CHAPTER FIVE #2
“It doesn’t have to make sense. That’s just the way it is.
” Harris opened his arm for Wolf, and his friend settled in next to him.
Wolf clutched the sheet in one balled fist and tucked it under his chin while he laid his head on Harris’ chest, and Harris kept a protective arm around his friend.
“You’re safe. I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.
Not even in your dreams. I won’t fall asleep.
I’ll stay awake all night and watch you to make sure you don’t have a bad dream. ”
A tiny smile appeared on Wolf’s face. “You don’t have to do that.”
“OK. I’ll hold you all night. Feel that?” Harris squeezed Wolf tightly with both arms. “Nothing’s getting through my arms. They’re a barrier that’s going to protect you all night.”
A sigh left Wolf’s lungs, and he closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth slightly curled.
As they both lay quietly in the dark, Harris replayed the evening in his head.
A multitude of emotions were battling inside of him.
On one hand, his heart ached for this man.
The sadness and loneliness Wolf experienced made Harris want to cry—not just cry; he wanted to sob and scream to let out all the pain in his heart.
Wolf’s pain was now his pain. On the flip side, anger and hatred festered in his belly like a virus.
He couldn’t understand what kind of people Wolf’s parents were.
How could they traumatize a little boy so badly?
Why had no one held them accountable? He wanted retribution.
But the former half of his emotions won the tug-of-war.
More than vengeance, he wanted to console Wolf and make everything right in his world.
And that’s what he seemed to be doing. Satisfaction and fulfillment slowly invaded Harris’ body.
He wanted to protect Wolf, and he was doing just that.
It overwhelmed him, and moisture filled his eyes.
His mouth quivered, and it took all his power not to let out a sob.
He held Wolf a little tighter and whispered.
“It’s gonna be OK. Everything’s gonna be OK.
” A tiny tear fell down Harris’ cheek, and he drifted off to sleep with the man he loved in his arms.
In the morning, Wolf was a new man. He’d slept soundly, never stirring or leaving the safety of Harris’ embrace, and the lack of feeling in his arm proved it.
“Sorry,” Wolf apologized when he saw Harris rubbing his bicep. “Let me.” Wolf walked around to Harris’ side of the bed, sprouting fucking morning wood that threatened to take out anything in a quarter mile radius.
“What are you doing?” Harris asked, nerves vibrating as Wolf approached.
“This.” Wolf started kneading Harris’ arm and shoulder, much like Harris massaged Wolf’s neck and shoulder the day he got hurt on the Jet Ski.
It felt magnificent, but Harris’ eyes kept drifting down to Wolf’s crotch, and then his own morning wood sprung to attention.
“Don’t worry about it.” A tiny smile pulled at the corners of Wolf’s mouth when he saw Harris staring. “It’s nothing a quick tug in the shower won’t fix.”
Did Wolf just suggest they take a shower together and get each other off?
“How’s that?” Wolf gave Harris’ arm one last squeeze, then patted his shoulder, knocking Harris back to reality.
“It’s . . . great.”
“Mind if I hit the shower first? I’ll be quick.” Wolf didn’t wait for an answer and strode into the bathroom and shut the door.
Harris stood there staring at the closed bathroom door, listening to the shower run, and imagining exactly what Wolf was doing in there.
Oh God. He fantasized about casually walking into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes, and entering the shower where Wolf was pleasuring himself.
He’d push Wolf’s hand out of the way and take over, with the same words Wolf used a few minutes ago—“Let me.”
That was not a good idea, and Harris couldn’t stand there one second longer, so he used the bathroom on the first floor to take care of his own business. When he was done, Wolf was already in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in hand.
“Can we take a raincheck for breakfast?” Wolf asked.
“I have an insatiable need to get home and paint. Do you mind? I feel bad running out after you were so sweet to me last night. I can’t thank you enough.
” He wrapped Harris in an enormous hug. “Thank you,” he whispered in Harris’ ear.
“I mean it. You’re a great friend. And you smell good. ”
“You smell good too.” The entire scenario this morning had Harris’ head spinning, and he stood there, almost in a state of shock, as he processed everything.
“So, we’re good?” Wolf asked. “Rain check on breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
Wolf tugged on the T-shirt he was wearing—Harris’ T-shirt from last night. “Is it OK if I wear this home?”
Harris nodded.
“I’ll give you a call later.”
“OK.” After Wolf left, Harris rehashed their entire conversation upstairs in the bedroom. He didn’t know how much of Wolf’s words were innocent and playful or if the guy was teasing him. Or . . . maybe . . . Wolf was seriously hinting that he wanted company in the shower.
***
Harris’ phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call from Wolf around eight, and he quickly answered it. “Hi.” Wolf had blue paint on the tip of his nose, and it made Harris smile. “How’d the painting go?”
“Great. I just finished. I’m beat, but it clears my head.” Wolf opened and closed his right hand, flexing his fingers. “I haven’t had a session that lasted that long in a while.”
“What was your inspiration?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“You really helped me last night, and I had this vision in an early-morning dream. I wanted to put it on canvas before I forgot the details.”
Harris wanted to see it, curious about the image, but didn’t want to push since he knew Wolf was private about his artwork. “Do you mind if I ask what it was?”
Wolf’s eyes squinted as he looked off to the side. “It was more of a feeling the place gave me. I don’t know if I captured it, but I think I did. Can I bring it over?”
“Shit yeah!”
“I need to get cleaned up.” Wolf wiped his nose, smearing more paint on it—this time yellow. “Give me about an hour or so, depending on traffic.”
“I’ll be here.”
Ninety minutes later, Wolf was at Harris’ door with a plastic bag full of take out. “I hope you’re hungry. I got Panda Express.”
“I could go for Panda Express.” Harris wasn’t hungry, but he’d eat because Wolf went to the trouble of bringing food. He frowned when he saw nothing else in Wolf’s hands. “Where’s the painting?”
“It’s in the car. Take this.” Wolf handed the plastic bag to Harris and carefully retrieved the painting from his car.
Curious and anxious to see it, Harris held the door open and stretched his neck to get a glimpse of the painting, but Wolf held it at an angle.
“It’s still a little wet. Do you know how hard it was to drive while making sure this thing didn’t fall off the seat? Where can I set it down? I need to lean it against the wall or something.”
Harris cleared off the credenza closest to the door. “Right here.” He watched as Wolf set the painting down and then stepped back so they could both admire it. “It’s beautiful,” Harris stated.
Wolf shot a crooked smile at Harris. “You don’t know what it is yet.”
It seemed obvious. “It’s a river surrounded by mountains. Where is this place?”
“In my head. I saw it in my dream while you were holding me.” Wolf stepped closer to the painting and explained.
“The mountains represent you, and the river represents me. In the background, the mountains are big, overshadowing the water which is small and narrow. It almost looks like a stream. The ripples in the water show the current is moving forward toward the foreground, at the bottom of the painting where the mountains get smaller and the river is wide, almost taking up the entire width of the canvas.” Wolf indicated the top part of the painting where the mountains were the largest and the water the narrowest. “This part represents how I felt last night when we first went to bed. I felt small and helpless, and your arms surrounded me like a shield or a barrier, like the way the mountains are protecting the river so nothing can reach it. Then, as the water traveled, which took time to get from there to here.” He pointed from the top of the painting to the bottom where the mountains were small and the river wide.
“The water was exposed. Open. Bold and confident. But the mountains were still there on either side. Ready. Just in case the water needed protection again.” Wolf paused and stared at the painting, eyes dancing and animated.
“I love the way it came out. Do you see it now? How I came here last night scared and frightened, afraid to sleep alone. Then you held me and told me everything was going to be OK. That you were going to protect me. When I woke up in the morning, all those insecure feelings disappeared, and I wasn’t afraid anymore.
I felt like nothing could hurt me.” He moved his index finger in a circular motion in front of the low mountains where the ocean was at its widest. “I didn’t need protection anymore. ”
Harris saw the painting through Wolf’s eyes, and it was a complete revelation. “I can’t believe you captured all that in a painting. It’s astounding. It’s . . .” He made a motion with his hands as if the top of his head just exploded. “Mind-blowing.”
Wolf smiled so wide it was hard to believe he was the same guy who showed up here last night on the verge of a breakdown. “I want you to have it.”
“No. Wolf. It’s yours, and it means so much to you.” Harris was humbled and touched by the gesture, but he couldn’t take it. The gift was too much.
“You better take it.” Wolf socked Harris in the shoulder. “I don’t give artwork out lightly. It’s like a piece of me.”
“OK. I didn’t mean I didn’t want it. Of course, I want it. I love it. I loved it before, when I first saw it, but after you explained it to me . . .” Harris shook his head, unable to find the words to convey the epiphany that overtook him. “I’m speechless.”
Wolf nodded slowly. “That’s the best compliment I ever received. In a couple of days, we’ll get it framed. So, pick out a place where you want to hang it. Now, how about heating up that Chinese food. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch.”
After the late meal, they ended up watching Netflix for a couple of hours, and Wolf left around two in the morning, giving Harris a long hug. “Thanks again, bruh. For everything.”
And then he shocked the hell out of Harris by giving him a big, wet kiss on the cheek. It wasn’t romantic or flirtatious in the least, but the frivolity of it filled Harris with whimsy and good spirits and made him smile. “Anytime. Get home safe. Call if you need anything.”
Harris watched Wolf’s Ferrari head down the driveway.
When he shut the door, he went to the painting and leaned over to look at it.
He loved this fucking thing. It looked dry, so he touched the edge and checked his finger.
Nothing. He picked it up by the edges, the same way Wolf had done when he brought it into the house, and moved to the middle of the room under the ceiling fixture to see it better.
It was fucking beautiful. With the light illuminating the canvas from behind, he saw that something was painted on the back, so he turned it slightly to take a look.
In black marker, Wolf had written, “To my hero. Love you, bruh. Wolf.”