9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
They spent the six hour drive alternating between chatting, comparing music tastes and podcasts, and enjoying the scenery. Sera switched off with him for driving, which broke the monotonous drive up and allowed Colt to get a little catnap in here and there. Mountain roads and foggy coastal forests slowly gave way to open rolling hills and, eventually, back into civilization proper. Having been in his hometown for well over a month, arriving in Whitehall felt a little surreal. Busy. Noisy. Overwhelming. Already, his soul ached for the trees.
They stopped to pick up takeout from a Thai place up the street from Colt’s home, then headed to the apartment. This, at least… Maybe he’d missed it a little. Or maybe he’d just missed his bed , and that nothing smelled like dust or mildew.
His apartment wasn’t anything to brag about. He had only the basics of furniture. The walls were bare. One bedroom, one bath. A porch balcony you could barely fit a pair of chairs onto. But the building itself was maintained decently, and he’d lucked out by getting one of the recently renovated units for the price of the older, outdated ones.
Sera wandered, looking everything over—not that there was much to see. They ate dinner on the couch, bare feet propped on the coffee table and a movie on, though they talked through most of it. There was only so much attention an eighties slasher movie required.
Aside from that, Colt quietly marveled at his own comfort. He’d had a few casual friends over a handful of times over the years, trying to build some kind of social life. All he’d gotten for his efforts was the realization he was vastly uncomfortable with other people in his space. Sera, though—he was a welcome presence that didn’t feel suffocating or overwhelming.
At some point, the inevitable topic of his dad came around. Colt retrieved a box from his bedroom closet, containing a modest collection of photographs.
“Dad never really got onboard with digital cameras or cellphones. He liked something he could get developed and hold,” Colt explained as Sera took his time looking through them. “Any time I found one laying around the house, I’d take it.”
“You were worried they’d get lost in the hoard.” Sera paused to smile at a picture of an infant Colt, naked and covered in birthday cake.
“Pretty much.”
“Maybe we’ll unearth more as we go.”
“That’d be nice.”
They lapsed into silence, save for Colt occasionally explaining the context behind a photo. When they reached one—a professionally shot picture from some school dance or another of Colt, with a boy on his arm—Sera paused and tipped his head.
“When did Glenn find out?”
Colt’s expression flattened. “Before I did, apparently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every time my Uncle Rob came to visit, he’d do the whole, ‘So, got yourself a girlfriend yet?’ bit. At some point, Dad got annoyed and snapped at him. ‘Jesus Christ, Rob, leave him alone, he doesn’t like girls.’” Colt smiled faintly. “I was so confused, thinking, ‘I don’t?’ But then it clicked into place. He was right.”
Sera laughed. “Maybe not the most tactful way to have gone about it, but… Supportive, none the less.”
“That was Dad for you.” They were already leaning into one another as they sat side by side. And now Colt found himself dropping his head to rest on Sera’s shoulder as he gazed at the photo. They flipped to the next one. A selfie of Glenn and a pre-teen Colt, standing in the same Christmas-lit streets he and Sera had been on their date. Sera lingered on that one. Something about that picture in particular struck something deep inside of Colt. Maybe it was the fact Christmas was approaching, and that’d been their holiday. Their favorite.
God, he wished he could’ve seen his dad for just one more Christmas.
“How did it happen?” he found himself asking softly. “Dad dying.”
He felt the slow, deep breath Sera took as though to steady himself. “Glenn’s health… I mean, it hadn’t been great for awhile. He’d been having ongoing problems.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Respiratory issues, mostly,” Sera replied, his voice soft but clear, a little distant. “He wasn’t sleeping well, developed a nasty cough. All that dust and mold… There’s just no way to keep a house like that clean. He was living in unsanitary conditions.”
Colt reflected back to a phone conversation. That cough. Glenn brushing it off when Colt asked about it. “Just that time of year. Cold season.” He pressed his eyes shut, as though it’d keep out the fresh wave of guilt.
“He was getting treatment. Kate was helping him navigate the medical stuff, trying to get him aid, I took him to all his appointments so he wasn’t alone. But it was like pulling teeth, getting him to leave the house. And it’s not like he’d allow any medical professionals to come to him,” Sera continued. “He caught a nasty cold. Insisted he was fine, didn’t need to go to the doctor…”
He trailed off, the memory seeming to trip him up. Colt saw the makings of shame and regret in his face.
“And when I came by the next morning to check on him, he was barely responsive. I called the paramedics, started clearing the way so they could even reach him.” Sera stared at the photo, though he didn’t really seem to be seeing it. “When he got to the hospital, the doctors told me he had COVID.”
“COVID? But he hardly left the house. How…”
A bitter smile pulled at Sera’s mouth. “I could barely get him to go to the doctor for something serious. You think I had any luck trying to convince him to get vaccinated?”
Not vaccinated, and already susceptible to respiratory problems… A disaster waiting to happen. And it had.
Colt said nothing for a spell, until, “… Thank you. For being there when I wasn’t.”
That earned him a bitter laugh. “‘Thank you’? Don’t thank me. If I’d brought him in that day, they likely would’ve caught it in time. But—fuck. Every outing was a fight. Glenn didn’t want help. It was like watching someone drown while refusing to grab the fucking lifeline.”
Sera’s words hung heavy with the weight of gnawing guilt and frustration and sadness. Colt’s mind raced with images of his father, sick and surrounded by the very things that were killing him, refusing help every step of the way. It wasn’t hard to imagine. He’d spent plenty of time angry at his dad in between the constant flux of emotions, and that anger surged brightly now.
“Yeah, well, screw him,” Colt said, drawing away, sliding a hand to the back of Sera’s neck, coaxing the taller man to look at him. “That’s not on you. Okay? I know how he was. My teenage years were full of the same shit. Begging him to get help, begging to do the bare minimum to take care of himself. I might’ve won a few of the battles, but getting through to Dad was a war I don’t think any of us would’ve claimed victory in.”
Sera met his gaze albeit reluctantly, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears that caught Colt completely off-guard. The raw emotion there worried him. Colt had viewed Sera as unflappable, a steady presence amidst the chaos. But now, watching him struggle to maintain his usual poise, it was all too apparent how deeply Glenn Grieves’ death had affected him.
“Glenn was a mess, we both know that. But he was there for me when I had no one else. He was the first person in my entire life that actually felt like family.”
The admission sang with shared grief and unspoken understanding. Colt wanted so badly to comfort him, to bridge the distance remaining between them.
Apparently, his bright idea on how to do that was to kiss Sera.
If he had a nickel for every time he’d initiated something with a guy, well…this would be his first nickel. And Sera was so damned still at first he immediately worried he’d made a huge mistake.
Then Sera leaned into it. One hand came to rest on Colt’s hip, before fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans, dragging him closer, positioning him until Colt’s thighs were straddling either side of Sera’s lap. It made Colt whimper. Made the heat that’d flushed to his face rush straight to his groin.
Sera kissed him, and it was tender yet laced with caution. Eager but restrained. Hesitant but, god, so warm . Sera’s arms slid around his middle; Colt’s arms slid around his neck. He buried a hand in Sera’s long, soft hair, just like he’d envisioned for weeks, and when his fingers curled, tugged, it was Sera who let out the softest of moans.
This is what I wanted, Colt thought. Just this. Just you.
He didn’t care if it was too soon, if it was the shared grief drawing them together. Colt didn’t want to wallow in his sadness forever. He wanted to come out the other side intact, better than before. He wanted to move forward and bring Sera with him. He grasped Sera, held fast to him, pouring all the complicated emotions into the kiss—everything he couldn’t put into words. And it was perfect.
At least, until Sera abruptly pulled away and dropped his head back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling. There they sat in a moment of silence disrupted only by their quickened breathing, and Colt tried to make sense of what was happening. “Sera?”
Sera licked at his lips. “I shouldn’t…”
Colt fought back every defense that wanted to slide into place. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Why not?”
“Because, we’re… I…” He closed his eyes. Breathed deep. Opened them again and looked at Colt. Again, Colt saw something unspoken in his eyes, words he was searching for but had yet to find. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I want this. I want you . There’s just… There’s something important I want to talk to you about first. And I’m still not sure how. I think I’d feel better if we waited until I figured it out.”
Oh.
Colt’s brow furrowed. Instantly, a hundred thoughts stampeded through his head about what that “something” might be, each thing worse than the last. He pressed back against it, desperate to hang onto this moment, to not let it turn sour.
“Okay,” he forced himself to say. And then, “Okay,” again, as he drew back, slid out of Sera’s lap, and stood.
It was fine. Sera had been nothing but patient with him, waiting until he could touch on a subject. Wasn’t it only fair that Colt extend the same kindness? Nevermind that his heart was racing and jittery with the anxiety of not knowing. That was his problem, not Sera’s.
“Okay?” Sera watched him carefully. “Is it really?”
Yes. It needed to be okay. Be a fucking adult, Colt.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s getting late anyway, and we have a long day tomorrow, so…”
Sera’s gaze averted, suddenly finding a random spot on the far wall interesting. Colt’s jaw tightened briefly. He couldn’t stand that look—that uncertainty. It broke his heart.
“… Does the waiting thing apply to sleeping in the same bed?” This time, his voice found its footing. Steady, soft, reassuring. Everything’s okay, I’m not mad, you did nothing wrong.
Once more, Sera’s eyes found his, surprised. Then all the pained edges of his expression faded, replaced by a smile.
“No. I don’t think it does.”
***
For the better part of an hour after they crawled into bed, Colt had stayed awake, making a mental checklist of all the new, unfamiliar things he experienced as he laid with Sera's larger body curled around his like some sort of protective shell.
It had almost been ridiculous, Colt thought, how Sera was all long limbs and just had to find a comfortable position for every one of them. He had a leg pressed flush up against the back of Colt's, the other budged inbetween Colt's thighs. An arm stuffed under Colt's pillow, the other wrapped around his waist, and his hand curled against Colt's chest with his fingers grasping the front of his t-shirt to make sure Colt didn't get up without him knowing. Sera had nestled his face into Colt's hair with a mumbled, "Goodnight."
He'd closed his eyes, focused on all the points of contact of their bodies. Sera was so warm, made Colt warm, made his chest flutter every time a bit of Sera's breath made Colt's hair tickle against the back of his neck. Colt had listened. At first to Sera's breathing, to the occasional shift of blankets and fabric as they adjusted to each other, figured out just how they best fit together. Onto the thudding of his own heartbeat, positive Sera could hear it—or feel it beneath his fingertips. And then, eventually—
Had he ever felt so in tune with—and so nervous about—someone in his bed before? Had any of his few brief relationships left him with anything other than a sense of unease and uncertainty, not knowing what to do with his arms, fighting sleep because it just felt so fucking crowded with another person shoved up against him.
But this was Sera, and Sera was proving to be the exception to a lot of things.
—Sera's breath slowing, softening, deepening, evening out into a soothing lullaby fit to caress Colt right to sleep.