68. Chapter Sixty-Seven
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Jake
Jake lay in bed, Rye cuddled up in his arms, and he worked to control his breathing. He’d been working to control his breathing, among other things, for a good couple of hours now, as Rye continued sleeping. Peacefully. Quietly. His head lying on Jake’s chest and his blond curls falling over his forehead.
The sight tugged at Jake’s heart. Again. And Jake closed his eyes and took another slow, deep breath.
He hadn’t been so sure about this when he’d agreed to it. He’d thought Rye wouldn’t be able to handle being this close, this intimate, letting Jake hold him while he slept. God, it didn’t get much more intimate than this, did it? And yet, Rye had barely hesitated. He’d curled up right beside Jake, his hand finding its perfect spot right on the center of Jake’s chest, and he’d closed his eyes. Within only minutes, it seemed, Rye had been asleep.
Jake, however, hadn’t slept another wink. But he also wasn’t that tired. Especially now.
Rye stirred, stretching, and hummed a quiet sound. Then he tensed, his hand pressing into Jake’s chest.
“Hey,” Jake said softly. And he brought his hand up to cover Rye’s, hoping the touch would comfort his boyfriend. Sure enough— thankfully —Rye let out a breath and seemed to relax as he buried his head deeper into Jake’s shoulder. Jake let his thumb rub across the top of Rye’s hand, and then he leaned in slightly and pressed his lips to Rye’s forehead. “You were sleeping for a while. How are you feeling? Better?”
Rye took another few breaths and then nodded. “I think so.”
Jake waited for him to say more, but he didn’t, and so, Jake shifted onto his side. His bad leg ached from how he’d been lying there—usually he shoved a pillow under his knee if he was going to be lying on his back for any length of time—but he ignored it and lifted his hand to gently brush back the hair falling over Rye’s face.
Something in his chest fluttered and stuttered, and he bit his lower lip as he repeated the motion, tracing his fingers along Rye’s forehead and back to his temple.
Rye’s eyes were closed, but he sighed, and as far as Jake could tell, it was a happy sigh. He smiled, leaned in, and kissed Rye’s forehead one more time, and he let his hand caress down Rye’s neck and shoulder and then to the bare skin of Rye’s upper arm.
“Mmm,” Rye hummed as Jake’s fingertips grazed along Rye’s skin, stopping at his elbow.
“Mm-hmm,” Jake agreed, and he heard a quiet laugh from Rye.
“Mmm, what time is it? How long was I asleep?”
“Ah, I’m not sure. My phone is on the nightstand behind you,” Jake explained. He had some idea—he expected it was probably around eight thirty or nine, but he wasn’t entirely sure. And Rye didn’t move to check. Rye’s hand kept pressing against Jake’s chest, though, and Rye made some other sound of contentment—another hum of sorts—that sounded all too beautiful.
“Do we... still have time to go out onto the beach and see the tide pools?”
For whatever reason, that question made Jake’s heart fill with so much joy. He kissed Rye’s forehead again. “Let me check the time?”
Rye nodded. So Jake pushed himself up onto his elbow and started to reach over Rye for his phone, but he froze when Rye gasped and tensed, his hand pushing away from Jake’s chest as he brought his arms up to cover his head. Immediately, Jake recoiled, shifting himself back and away from Rye.
“Sorry. Ah, I’m sorry, Rye. What happened? Are you okay? Did I... god, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He hated all of those questions, but they came out in a rush, and he couldn’t really stop them. Shaky and unsure, Jake scooted back another couple of inches, frowning.
Rye was almost cowering away from him now, both arms covering his head, with his chin tucked down against his chest. He shook his head, somehow, but Jake didn’t know which of his lunkheaded questions Rye might be responding to.
“Rye, I’m sorry,” he repeated. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I didn’t mean to...” He trailed off, unsure what had even happened.
“N-n-no, n-no, it’s—it’s—it’s . . .”
Jake watched helplessly, his heart breaking, as his boyfriend stuttered and stammered a bit more, unable to say anything of any real substance, still cowering away from him. And he pursed his lips as he replayed the moment. He’d just reached up over Rye. Nothing more. He hadn’t even... he hadn’t even touched Rye.
But, god, Rye’s reaction . . .
“Rye?”
Rye took several deep breaths, long and slow, and then let his arms come down a bit as he cautiously lifted his eyes to look at Jake. When their eyes met, Jake’s heart broke even more. Rye was terrified. Of him. Or... of him when he’d... been over top of Rye. When he’d stretched up and over Rye. Almost covering him.
His stomach dropped. “God, I’m sorry,” he said one more time, and he settled all the way back down so he was facing Rye with his head on his pillow, at Rye’s level again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“I didn’t either,” Rye said, shaking his head hard. “I didn’t know that was going to happen. I can’t always... I can’t control it sometimes. And I-I hate that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It felt sudden and scary, like I was back there, back with—with him, and like he was going to—”
Rye cut himself off and, to Jake’s surprise, scooted over and wrapped his arm around Jake’s waist. His head pressed into Jake’s chest.
“I’m okay now,” he said quietly, and his voice shook. “But please don’t do that again.”
“God, no. Of course not. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” The apology seemed like it wasn’t enough. But Rye nodded into him anyway and somehow held onto him tighter. And when Jake returned the embrace, his arms surrounding Rye as gently and lovingly as he could, Rye’s body shuddered, and he cuddled up against Jake even more.
“This is better. I’m... I’m better now. Thank you,” Rye said.
Jake fumbled to find any words, and when he failed, he just nodded and kissed the top of Rye’s head. And they lay there for another few minutes while Jake’s racing heart slowed. Eventually, Rye pushed away and turned over to grab Jake’s phone and check the time.
“It’s nine fifteen,” he said, and he turned back to Jake, frowning. “Does that mean it’s too late?”
“Hmm, no, not if we go now. The tide’s all the way out at ten, and it’ll be good for maybe an hour or so?” Or at least, he hoped. He’d only glanced at the tide chart online a few days ago. He started to push up onto his elbow, but promptly stopped himself. “Hand me my phone, and I can check?”
Rye gave him a tiny smile that looked hard-fought, then reached back behind himself again to get Jake’s phone. He handed it to Jake .
“Thanks.” Jake unlocked it and opened up his internet browser, then sorted through the sea of tabs he had open until he found the tide chart.
Just as he was about to confirm that he’d remembered correctly—the tide would be the lowest from ten to about eleven thirty, he heard Rye chuckle. He lifted his eyes to see Rye staring at him, his cheeks pink. Rye shook his head, and Jake grinned at him. “What?”
“Your... hair,” Rye said. Then, he scooted closer to Jake and reached up to run his fingers through Jake’s hair. “It’s worse in the morning than when you’ve been wearing your beanie.”
“My beanie?” Jake narrowed his eyes, but when Rye repeated the motion, his tongue peeking out the side of his mouth as he carefully brushed Jake’s hair back and flattened it, Jake groaned quietly. “God, why does that feel so good?”
Rye laughed a little. “I... like it when you, um, touch me like this too,” he admitted. “And, yes, your beanie. When you take it off, and your hair is all over the place, I think...” Rye’s cheeks flushed, and his hand fell back to Jake’s chest. “I think you look really silly. And... and really... adorable.”
Jake closed his eyes as heat flooded his cheeks, and he dropped his chin. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever called me that before.”
“Silly? Oh, Kris does all the time, I bet.”
“No. Adorable.”
Rye chuckled, and Jake felt a kiss on his forehead this time. “Well, you are. And you’re also...” Rye’s hand shifted a little lower on Jake’s chest. “You’re also, um, really... handsome. I hope... that’s okay for me to say.”
The blush in his cheeks got hotter, but he lifted his eyes to Rye again and nodded. “It is,” he reassured. “It’s okay when I call you beautiful, too, right? Because”—Jake shook his head once—“because you are .” He brought his hand up slowly, carefully, and let his fingers run along Rye’s jawline as he held Rye’s gaze. Stormy blue eyes that were also bright and eager stared back at him, until Rye blinked and looked away with a tiny nod.
“Yeah. It’s . . . okay.”
Jake’s thumb smoothed along Rye’s cheek, and he gently encouraged Rye to tilt his head back. “Can I kiss you?”
Rye’s expression softened, and he managed another of those hard-earned smiles. “Yes, please.”
He shifted forward just a little, being sure not to raise himself up off the bed over Rye, and they kissed. Slow and soft and sweet. And when he pulled back, Rye whimpered a little, dipped back in for another quick kiss, and then laughed.
“If we don’t get up, we won’t catch the tide pools before the tide comes back in?” Rye asked, and Jake nodded .
“Yeah, you’re right, yeah. You want to go?”
With a smile that looked maybe a little easier than his previous ones, Rye pushed himself up onto one elbow and nodded. “I do.”
“Alright,” Jake said. “Let’s go, yeah.”
He waited until Rye sat up all the way and started to stand before pushing himself up too. And when Rye disappeared out the door and down the hall to get changed a moment later, Jake stood and headed to his dresser to find some clothes to wear.
Jake carefully sidestepped around the small pools of water, using his cane to help himself balance on the rocks while simultaneously trying not to step on anything that looked like a living creature. Ahead of him, Rye was kneeling down, motioning frantically.
“Jake! It’s a... a starfish! Look, look! Hurry!”
With a deep laugh, Jake shook his head. “If it is a starfish, it’s not going anywhere. I’m almost there, hang on.”
“It’s almost . . . it’s purple! Is that normal?”
Jake laughed again and stopped just to the side of Rye, glancing down into the pool of water. Sure enough, there was a small sea star clinging to a rock at the bottom of the pool, alongside a couple of urchins and an anemone. He grinned.
“Ah, that’s a bat star. They’re usually orange, though.” Slowly, and with the help of his cane, Jake knelt down next to Rye to get a closer look. The sea star was smaller than his palm, and its distinctive shape—with the central body portion being wider than the arms were long—made it easily identifiable. “These are very common around here, but not in this color. Ah, this is neat. Nice find.”
Rye beamed with the praise and then repeated the name of the sea star. “A bat star, hmm. Ah, wait until I tell my mom. This is so neat. And what’s this?” He pointed to the urchin. “An urchin, right? But what kind?”
Jake smiled again. He loved Rye’s enthusiasm. It was so innocent, so beautiful. “You won’t believe this. Ready?”
Rye glanced up at Jake, a silly half-smile on his lips. “Yeah?”
Jake’s heart fluttered, and he winked at Rye. “That sea urchin right there, the purple one, is called—get this—a... purple sea urchin. Not to be confused with the much more rare red sea urchin. ”
Rye’s eyes narrowed at Jake before he shook his head, grinning. “You think you’re funny. But you’re not.”
“I dunno, you seem to laugh at my dumb jokes most of the time.”
“I’m just being nice.”
“Oh, I see.”
Jake couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore, but he also didn’t trust his leg in this position, so he quickly pushed himself up to stand with the help of his cane, and then he let himself laugh, shaking his head.
They continued around the tide pools, finding more sea stars and urchins as well as some crabs, a few sculpins, and several different types of snails. As the tide began to come back in, Rye and Jake carefully picked their way back over the rocks to the shore, and then they started back toward home, Rye’s hand slipping into Jake’s. They walked side by side, maybe a little slower than usual, which was good—Jake’s leg hadn’t exactly loved all the kneeling and walking on uneven surfaces that much. But he’d have done it a hundred times over to see the beautiful smile on Rye’s face.
He squeezed Rye’s hand, and when Rye looked up at him, his hair blew back out of his face with the gentle breeze coming in off the water. His blue eyes sparkled with more of that same enthusiasm.
“That was neat, huh?”
“Very,” Rye said, and his smile grew before he pulled his gaze away, back to the sandy beach in front of them. With a quiet voice, Rye said, “I’m sorry. About this morning, I mean. I... guess I didn’t realize how much yesterday affected me. And... and that I can’t... have you over me when we’re in bed together. I’m—” Rye stopped walking, and Jake stopped next to him, his heart aching as he watched Rye close his eyes tightly and shake his head. “I’m sorry I’m like this, I wish—I wish I was just... normal. For you. So you could be—”
“Don’t say ‘happy,’” Jake interrupted, “because I am happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, a million times over. And I love you. Right now. Just as you are. You don’t ever need to apologize for anything, or explain anything, or try to be anything else for me. I love you just like this.” He wanted to make sure Rye believed him, and so he lifted his hand up, as he had so many times now, and he touched Rye’s cheek, smoothing his thumb along Rye’s soft skin. And he bent down, slowly, and kissed Rye’s forehead and his cheeks and then his lips with the most tender, softest kisses he could manage.
A tear slipped down Rye’s cheek, and he shook his head, though he didn’t pull away. “But, I... This morning, I... I’m not...” Frustrated, Rye shook his head again. “Everything is so hard with me. Nothing is easy, nothing is—”
“Rye,” Jake said, stopping him gently with another kiss to the forehead. “Rye, loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I don’t want anyone or anything else. Just you. Only you. Forever.”
Rye looked ready to protest again, but Jake shook his head.
“Anything we have to work through, we will. Like this morning. It doesn’t bother me to have to be careful about certain things, it won’t scare me away. And you’re worth it. You’re everything to me. This”—Jake lowered his forehead to touch Rye’s—“is worth everything. I love you.”
Rye sort of... laughed, but it was a rough laugh that was followed by a few more tears falling and a quiet sniffle and then a small shake of his head. “I have a hard time believing all of that. Not that... not that I don’t believe you. Just that I don’t understand how I could be enough for you. Or for anyone. I... I-I’ll keep trying, though. To believe you, I mean. I... I want to.”
A warmth settled deep in Jake’s chest, and he lifted his chin and dropped another tiny, light kiss on Rye’s forehead. “Should we get back?” he asked softly, and Rye nodded.
“Yeah.”
They started off again toward the fifty-three stairs that would take them back up to the house, Rye’s hand clutching Jake’s a little bit tighter than it had been before.