Chapter 12 #2
“It did,” Joshua agreed. “But we can’t expect every stop to be like Farmville. Some towns will be welcoming. Some won’t. Our job is to show up anyway and do our best.” He shrugged. “The rest is in the hands of… well, whatever hands are out there.”
They got ready for bed—brushing teeth, changing into sleep clothes—the comfortable routine of six years together. When they finally climbed under the covers, Joshua curled against Colin’s side, head on his chest, one hand inching under his T-shirt.”
“Thank you for doing this,” Joshua murmured. “I know it’s hard. But it matters. These kids—they need people like you who understand what they’re going through.”
Colin pressed a kiss to his hair. “And I need people like you who keep me grounded.”
Joshua watched as Colin turned to stare out the window at the darkening sky. His body was rigid, every muscle still on alert.
“You’re still working,” Joshua said quietly.
“I’m fine.”
“Colin.” Joshua propped himself up on one elbow. “Your jaw is clenched. Your shoulders are up around your ears. You’re light-years away from fine.”
Colin exhaled slowly. “Just thinking.”
“I know.” Joshua’s hand found Colin’s chest, palm flat over his heart. “But you don’t have to think right now. You don’t have to fix anything or protect anyone. Not for the next hour. Can you let me have you for just an hour?”
Colin turned his head, and in the dim light from the parking lot, Joshua could see the exhaustion in his eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard to turn it off.”
“I know,” Joshua said again, softer. His fingers slid over Colin’s skin, his touch tentative but firm.
“So, let me help.” He made it a command, not a plea, and at first Colin only blinked at the dark ceiling, jaw clamped shut.
The lines along his mouth and brow stayed deep as if Joshua’s hand were pressing him down, not holding him up.
But the heat and weight of that touch, the surety of it, seemed to slow Colin’s heart by fractions.
After a minute, Colin’s hands, which had been curled into fists on top of the blanket, relaxed.
He let them flatten, one after the other, and felt the comfy cotton pilling under his palms. Joshua shifted, drawing the covers up higher around both of them, and Colin didn’t resist. He let himself be tucked in.
He even turned toward Joshua, seeking his body’s warmth while Joshua’s hand continued to move in patient, methodical circles, never rushing, nails grazing through the hair on Colin’s chest, then smoothing it down.
His heartbeat, fluttering at first, settled under the steady pressure.
Joshua worked his hand up to Colin’s neck, then the tense line of his jaw, fingers gentle, as if negotiating with a frightened animal.
The room was so quiet, every sound magnified: the shush of car tires in the lot, the air conditioner’s faint hum, and the steady, involuntary rhythm of their breathing. Colin’s was clipped at first, but it lengthened, got heavier, and after a while, he let his head fall back against the pillow.
Joshua leaned in. “Let me?” he said, barely above a whisper.
Colin’s eyes met his, and he nodded. When he opened his mouth, nothing came out, and Joshua didn’t wait for more, didn’t need declarations—he brought his lips to Colin’s, gentle at first, then searching for heat, for proof of life.
Colin let it happen: the slow press of Joshua’s mouth against his, the way their noses bumped, the catch of Joshua’s breath when Colin finally kissed him back.
He’d forgotten how soft Joshua could be.
There was a patience, a reverence, as if Colin might shatter if touched wrong.
Joshua’s hands mapped his face, down his neck, over his shoulders, leaving sparks behind; with every pass, some part of Colin’s armor loosened.
He didn’t remember when the blankets got pushed aside, when Joshua’s thigh slipped between his, or when Joshua’s hands slid under his shirt; he only knew that when it happened his entire body flamed and melted.
He let his lips part, just slightly. Not an invitation—but enough.
He tasted the air, felt it catch in his throat.
Joshua waited, his face close but not touching, his breath warm against the stubble of Colin’s cheek.
Colin closed his eyes. When Joshua’s lips met his, featherlight, it was almost a relief.
They moved together, neither urgent nor tentative, finding their rhythm.
Colin’s hands found Joshua’s back, then his hips, pulling him closer.
Joshua shifted, rolling them so Colin was beneath him, and the weight—the solid, undeniable presence of Joshua’s body—seemed to be what Colin needed. His breath hitched, then steadied.
“Stay with me, yedid,” Joshua murmured against his neck. “Right here. With me.”
Colin’s answer was wordless, his hands tightening on Joshua’s shoulders. The tension was still there, coiled in his muscles, but Joshua worked at it patiently until it finally cracked.
It happened all at once. Colin’s breath broke on something that was half-gasp, half-sob, and his body went slack beneath Joshua. His eyes squeezed shut, and when Joshua kissed him again, Colin kissed back with something that felt like desperation, like he was drowning and Joshua was air.
“I’ve got you, my darling boy,” Joshua whispered. “I’ve got you.”
“Tá mo chroí istigh ionat,” Colin whispered, his voice a rasp in his throat, but Joshua smiled.
“I know, my yedid. I know.”
Afterward, Colin shifted, his lips seeking the familiar hollow of Joshua’s throat.
Joshua pulled him close, one hand coming to rest on his back.
Colin’s arm draped across his waist, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion.
The bedding lay kicked to the foot of the bed.
His breathing was deep and even for the first time all night.
Joshua’s fingers traced slow patterns on his shoulder blade. “Better, my love?” he asked quietly.
Colin was silent for a moment, then: “Yeah.” His voice was rough, scraped raw. “I needed that. Needed you.”
“I know.” Joshua pressed a kiss to his hair. “You don’t have to carry everything alone. That’s what I’m here for.”
Colin lifted his head enough to look at him. In the dim light, his eyes were clearer, the haunted look finally gone. “God, I love you,” he whispered, his lips pressed to the sweet curve where Joshua’s neck met his shoulder.
“And I love you, my beautiful Irish lad,” Joshua murmured in return, settling back against Colin’s chest. “Now get some sleep, love. Tomorrow’s another day on the road.”
Colin settled back down, his body loose and heavy with exhaustion. Within minutes, his breathing shifted into the steady rhythm of sleep. Joshua lay awake a little longer, one hand still resting on Colin’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.
Tomorrow, they’d get back on the road. Tomorrow, Colin would probably tense up again, start planning and worrying about Wise. But tonight—for this one night—he had found peace.