Chapter 24 - Everett
Everett
The walk to the Night Market is filled with quiet small talk.
LB tells me about the tattoos he has on his books this week, and I tell him about the ER and all the crazy that goes on there.
We talk about our current favorite songs, books, and movies.
Despite having known LB since I was a child, the man beside me now is a relative stranger.
I know him in all the ways that truly matter, but I’m enjoying getting to learn all the small things about who he’s become.
When the sounds and smells of the market reach us, I notice LB perks up a little, but when we round the corner and it fully comes into view, his face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Teddy!” he gushes. “Oh look! It’s so colorful!
” I purposely left out that the Night Market is put on by the university’s LBGTQ+ Alliance.
They use fairy lights in different colors to create a rainbow that stretches over the entire market.
“Mmmmm, and what is that smell?! I need two of whatever it is!” I laugh at his enthusiasm.
“C’mon, LB, why don’t we make a lap and see what all they have to offer so you can decide what you wanna get?” I should have known it wouldn’t be that simple. Cooper may be skinnier than my left thigh, but he’s always been able to outeat everyone.
We’re loaded down with caramel popcorn, a funnel cake, three drinks, a giant corn dog, fried pickles, gator on a stick, and the atrocity that is chocolate-covered bacon, before we even make it halfway through the market.
I guide LB over to a picnic table so he can sit comfortably without the risk of dropping any of his horde.
He bites into the bacon and does the cutest little happy dance.
The moan that comes out of his mouth is positively sinful.
I’m shocked by my thoughts tonight. I accepted my asexuality years ago, but something about LB brings out those feelings that are normally absent.
I want him, but telling him is out of the question.
I refuse to make him feel pressured. He may never want a sexual relationship, after everything he’s been through, and that’s perfectly okay.
If we never take that step, I don’t think either of us will feel like there’s anything missing.
However, it’s nice to know that if he ever does want more, physically, that I will be able to reciprocate.
While I may have accepted my sexuality, that doesn’t stop me from occasionally letting insecurities and the opinions of others make me feel like I’m broken. I’m not. I know I’m not, but sex—and the use of sex—is so prevalent in our society that sometimes it’s hard to not feel like the odd man out.
“What has you thinkin’ so hard over there?” LB asks, pulling me out of my own head.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a pathetic attempt at deflection.
“You’ve got your thinking wrinkle going on,” he says, lightly touching the skin in between my eyebrows. “You only get that when you’re lost in your head.”
I huff out a small laugh. “You got me there. I was just thinking about us, and a little about myself. I’m just glad we’re finally getting a chance to give this thing between us a real try.”
“Hmmm.” He hums noncommittally around the straw of his drink. “I can tell there’s more to it than that, but I won’t force it out of you. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” The sweet smile he gives me is ruined when he shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth. A laugh flies out of me.
“How can you be so adorable and so disgusting at the same time?” I ask.
“—sss a talent,” he slurs out around the food in his mouth.
Once LB finishes his mountain of food, we start a slow lap around the market.
He stops to chat at almost every booth, and watching him in his element is remarkable.
His face lights up, and he gesticulates wildly with his hands, bouncing gently on his toes.
Art has always made him happy, but this…
This is a lightening of his spirit. Almost like art sets his soul free of everything that normally weighs it down, and I feel lucky to be witnessing it.
He finishes talking to an older woman about wind chimes, of all things, before turning back to me, eyes glittering with excitement.
“Teddy! This place is so perfect. Did you see Mary’s beautiful display of necklaces?
Oh! And Ethan’s portraits are god-tier. He’s a magician with lighting.
Grace, here, makes these wind chimes out of completely recycled material.
Ugh! I just want to live in this market.
I never expected there to be anything like this in Kingston.
Thank you for bringing me.” His arms wrap around my waist, and then he’s surging forward.
His lips are on mine, and I nearly forget how to breathe.
Our first kiss. My first kiss. It’s sloppy and a little too wet but still absolutely perfect.
The kiss ends when LB pulls back like he was electrocuted. My fingers trace my lips as we stare at each other in shock. LB is the first to snap out of it. “I’m so sorry. I should have asked first.” He’s staring at the ground, chewing on his lip.
Slowly, I reach out and tilt his face until he’s looking at me.
Shame has burned all the excitement out of his eyes.
My hindbrain is in full control when I lean in and place another kiss on his lips.
This one is gentler, not as sloppy. I pull back, not enough to fully separate us, but enough for him to see the seriousness on my face.
“It was perfect, and you never have to ask to touch me. You would never touch me in a way that would hurt. If, for some reason, your touch was making me uncomfortable, I know I could tell you and you would stop immediately. I’m safe with you, and I hope that you feel safe with me as well.
” Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood, I wink and say, “Consider this my blanket permission to kiss me whenever you like.”
The tension leaves his body, and he leans back in, smiling against my lips. “And what if I never stop kissing you?”
“Then I’d live a life well spent.” This earns me a small peck, and I brush my thumb across his jaw, back and forth, back and forth, before pulling my hand away.
I don’t get very far before LB covers my retreating hand with his own and presses it back to his face.
LB’s eyes are begging me to be worthy of the trust he’s giving me.
I hope my own eyes express how willing I am to do whatever it takes to be that person for him.
He must see something in them that puts him at ease, because he releases my hand but tilts his head into my palm and releases a little sigh.
When I feel his arms loop around my waist, moisture pools in my eyes.
We don’t speak. We just stand there. Me cupping his face, and him holding on to me, gazes locked.
We’re encapsulated in our own perfect little bubble.
Here, we’re safe. Here, we never have to part. Here, we can just be. LB and Teddy.
The end of the evening came too soon. LB held my hand the entire walk back to his apartment, and now we’re once again standing in his doorway, unwilling to part. “Will I see you soon?” he asks, voice small as he fingers the hem of his shirt.
“Say the word, and I’m there, as long as I’m not at work.”
The drive back to my own apartment is somber. I already miss him so much my chest aches. He’s not going anywhere. Logically, I know that, but the organ in my chest can’t help but fear that he’ll disappear again.
I’ve just laid out my scrubs for tomorrow when my phone pings with a text.
LB: The word
I toss my stuff into a duffel bag, and I’m out the door in under five minutes, heading home.
That was four months ago, and I’m still here. There was no big conversation. No grand gesture. We simply fell back into the patterns of our childhood. We’ve always gravitated towards one another. Being within each other’s orbit makes breathing just a little easier.
The first month, I slept on the couch. My back constantly reminded me that I was getting closer to thirty, but sharing LB’s space was worth the ache.
By the second month, I’d moved to his bed.
He slept under both the sheet and the comforter.
I slept under the comforter but stayed on top of the sheet in order to minimize any skin-to-skin contact.
LB was able to touch me outside of the bedroom, but unanticipated touch while he was asleep still set him off.
Month three came, and I found my way under the sheet.
I purchased a body pillow to keep between us, but LB started to sneak his way past it in his sleep.
He’d always been a bit of a heat-seeking missile.
It was nice to see that some things never changed.
Now here we are four months later. When I go to bed every night, he usually crawls into my arms without hesitation, but there are still bad days when he needs space, and I find myself back on the couch.
Thankfully, those continue to grow further and further apart.