Chapter 2
Parker
Song: Bros by Wolf Alice
It’s been two days since I suggested the platonic cuddle arrangement.
I know I told Reid to take his time, but he hasn’t brought it up since, and I can’t help worrying.
I’ve been trying to keep busy so I don’t obsess.
Moving my body, or at least having an idle task to do with my hands, usually helps keep intrusive bullshit at bay.
Although, I’ve been careful not to fall into one of my compulsions as a way of dealing with the anxiety that I irreparably damaged our friendship with my offer.
So cleaning of any sort has been off-limits.
I also have resisted the urge to backtrack on the offer or badger Reid to make sure he doesn’t think I crossed a line.
Logically, I know that if I’ve done or said something to make Reid uncomfortable, he would tell me—he’s not one to hide his feelings or to be passive-aggressive.
Out of everyone in my life, he’s the one person I can count on to say exactly what he means.
But that doesn’t stop the voice in the back of my mind that doesn’t sound like me.
Intrusive thoughts are a bitch like that.
The semester is over, so I don’t have any studying to do.
And I don’t have my old front desk job at the physical therapy office either.
When I decided to go back to school, my boss was supportive and said my job would be waiting for me over the summers.
She also said I was welcome to pick up shifts during the winter break between semesters, but I decided not to.
I wanted to give myself time to rest and recharge, which seemed like a great idea at the time, but now I’m regretting it because I have nothing else to focus on.
So instead, I’ve been playing a lot of Minecraft.
My sister would probably call it a little childish, and my therapist might argue that it scratches the same need for organization and control that cleaning does.
But it’s fun, at least—way more fun than a bunch of little blocks has any right to be.
It’s also kind of cozy if you play on peaceful mode, which I do.
I have zero patience for dealing with creepers that might destroy something I spent hours working on.
I’m sitting on the couch, trying to find my way out of a cave, when Reid comes into the living room.
He’s changed out of his work clothes into what he refers to as his “inside clothes”—usually grey sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and some form of cozy sweater.
Since it’s December, his cozy sweaters have been holiday themed, all gifted to him by his grandma.
He thinks they’re all ugly, even if they’re cozy, which is why he never wears them outside of the apartment except when he visits his grandma for Christmas.
I would say it’s a shame, because some of them are absolute gems—like the T-Rex wearing a Santa hat one he’s wearing now—but I also kind of like that I’m one of the only people that gets to enjoy seeing how adorable he is in them.
He also seems to have showered, judging by the way his dark brown hair seems more tamed than the usual fluffy, un-styled look he has. I must have been laser-focused on the game because I didn’t hear the shower go on at all.
“Hey, how was work?” I ask.
“Quiet.” He gestures to the TV. “Minecraft again?”
I nod. “I’m almost finished making that castle if you want to see.”
“Sure,” he says as he makes his way to the couch. “But first, I was wondering if we could…”
He trails off, and I set the controller down on the coffee table so I can give him my full attention. “What’s up?”
“I thought about your offer. The cuddle offer,” he says.
I knew what he was talking about immediately, but I’ve always appreciated his need to be specific. “Okay,” I say, not sure what to say. I settle on, “What were you thinking about?”
He takes a breath and blows it out, almost to steel his nerves. “I want to try it. Cuddling. I don’t know how comfortable I’ll be with it, but I want to see.”
Two days of anxious tension starts releasing from my shoulders. Oh, thank God I didn’t fuck things up.
“That is, if the offer is still on the table—”
“It is,” I say in a rush before smiling. “When did you want to start?”
His posture relaxes, and he offers me a tentative smile—the soft, unforced one that rarely makes an appearance outside of this apartment. “Well, I thought maybe now, but you’re doing something, so it can be later.”
“No, now is good with me,” I say. “Now” is the answer I was hoping for, actually.
“I don’t want to interrupt you,” he insists. “I can read instead.” His gaze drops to his hands, which are fiddling with the end of his sleeves. One of his nervous stims.
Slowly, I reach my hand out, giving him time to see the touch coming. He lifts his head, and his eyes don’t quite meet mine, instead landing on the general area of my chin.
“Can I?” I ask, my hand hovering over his.
He glances between my chin and our hands before nodding. With permission granted, I settle my hand on top of his.
“We could do both,” I offer.
“Both?”
“We can cuddle while you read and I continue to mine,” I clarify.
“That would be okay?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say. “But first, how do you want to do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, how much physical contact are you okay with?” The last thing I want to do is make him uncomfortable by moving too fast. I’m a bit of a cuddle slut, so I need him to take the lead on this one.
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “That’s part of why I want to do this. I want to figure out what I am and am not okay with.”
“Then why don’t we start slow?” I grab the controller again and sink back into the couch before patting the cushion next to me. “Come sit closer to me.”
“Um, let me grab my eReader first,” he says, and I nod.
He disappears into his room and is back less than a minute later with his eReader and his lap-sized weighted blanket. He settles down next to me, his thigh brushing against mine. Then he looks at me uncertainly. “I don’t know what to do next.”
I smile a little, endeared by how straightforward he can be even when he’s uncertain about something. “Give me your arm?”
He holds out his arm, and I thread it through mine. “Is this okay?”
He hesitates for a moment then, without prompting, he leans into me so we’re pressed together from elbow to shoulder, and my smile widens. “Yeah, I think so,” he says.
With a nod, I grab my controller again, and he takes the cue, focusing on his book.
We sit in companionable silence, him reading, and me finally figuring out how to get out of this fucking cave I found myself in.
After a while, I feel him shift next to me.
I keep my focus on the game, not wanting to make him feel like he’s being watched, but out of the corner of my eye I check for any sort of discomfort.
I haven’t been timing this little experiment, but judging from my game progress, at least twenty minutes must have passed by now. Maybe that’s his limit?
But instead of scooting away like I expect, he snuggles closer and rests his cheek on my shoulder.
I can feel a hint of his facial hair through my shirt, which is a new feeling.
Not that it’s an unwelcome feeling. I’ve just never cuddled with someone with facial hair before.
Actually, even though I told Reid that platonic cuddling is completely normal, I’m just now realizing that I’ve never cuddled with a guy friend before.
All of my platonic cuddling has been with girl friends.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say because despite the realization that this is new to me too, it feels right. “How about for you?”
“It’s…” he trails off for a long moment, and it takes me a moment to remind myself not to hold my breath waiting for his response. He’s just trying to find the right word.
Everything is fine.
Finally, he decides on, “Nice.”
I squeeze Reid’s arm into my side and tip my head to the side to rest it on top of his for a moment.
It’s such a simple word, but yeah, this is nice.
I’ve always loved the evenings we spend simply existing in each other’s company—parallel play, according to an article about expressions of love in neurodivergent friendships.
But something about having Reid’s warm body tucked against my side makes it even better.
Maybe I’ve been a little touch starved too.
The eight months I’ve lived with Reid have been the longest I’ve gone without a girlfriend since high school.
And with how busy I was during the semester, I haven’t even had time to have a movie night with my sister.
Actually, I can’t remember the last time I talked to her for longer than five minutes.
I should fix that during my winter break.
“Parker?”
“Hmm?” I ask, shaking myself from my internal rambling. “Sorry, were you saying something? I zoned out for a minute there.”
“Yeah, I could tell when your little pixel guy didn’t move for a bit,” he says—not with any sort of judgement. Just an observation.
“Steve,” I supply.
“Steve?” he repeats.
“The Minecraft guy. His name is Steve.”
“I didn’t realize he had a name.” He sets his eReader down.
“Are you done reading?” I ask. “We could turn something on, if you are.”
“No, you can keep playing if you don’t mind me watching.”
“Not at all,” I assure him.
He cranes his neck to look at me without lifting his head. “You could show me your castle now,” he suggests.
“Yeah, sure,” I agree, smiling.
He lets out a soft sigh and relaxes further into our pseudo-embrace as I turn my attention back to the game.