“No! Jesus, Zach, you’re freakin’ me out here. What the hell is wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Zach answered, then realized he’d said too much. His heart was pounding so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. “I mean, nothing’s wrong. I just gotta go.”
“You’re clammy and you’re pale and you’re scaring the shit outta me,” David said anxiously. “Jesus, what’s wrong? You’re sick? Siddown and let me call your folks. Shit, let me call 911….”
“No! No, I ain’t sick! It’s nothing!” He had to hold it together until he got away from here. Outside it would be cooler—there’d be more air for God’s sake—and he’d be able to breathe. He heard himself wheezing. Shit, he was already hyperventilating. “It’s….” he wheezed, trying to speak, but the words weren’t coming; his lungs were too busy trying to get air.
He saw David with his cell phone in hand and lunged for it, knocking it onto the floor. “No!” he managed. “Not….”
“You’re having a heart attack or something. Jesus, Zach!” David grabbed him as he stumbled.
“No. No.” Zach hauled in as deep a breath as his compressed airways could manage. “P… panic attack,” he said, and sobbed for breath as the room spun dizzily around him.
“Jesus!” David breathed, but managed to shove him onto the bed before he fell. “Can I get you anything? Water… you got meds?”
“Jeans….” Zach waved at the pants he’d dropped when he stumbled.
David picked them up and went through the pockets, pulling out Zach’s prescription meds and the inhaler. Zach grabbed the inhaler gratefully.
The adrenaline in the inhaler relaxed his bronchia, and fresh, sweet air flooded his lungs; using the inhaler focused him, and the hyperventilation eased as well. He was still shaking uncontrollably as he took the third puff, but not as hard as he had been. “Thanks,” he said wearily.
“Valium?” David said, holding up the prescription bottle from his other pocket.
“Should have taken it earlier,” Zach said. “Not much good in the middle. But I don’t like it.”
“You take this when you’re drinking, you’re gonna wake up dead,” David said soberly.
Zach, still trembling, merely nodded.
David knelt on the floor at Zach’s feet and put his hands on Zach’s knees. “You’re still shaking,” he observed. “Anything else I can do?”
Zach shook his head. The hysterical crying that was the most embarrassing part of his usual panic attack seemed to be holding off for now, and he was grateful. Bad enough he was so humiliated in front of David without having to cry like a baby as well. But he was exhausted, so he lay down on the bed, not even caring that his head wasn’t even near a pillow.
DAVID KNELT beside the bed, feeling his own heart slowing. This panic attack had terrified him. He’d heard about them, but had never witnessed one before. He’d thought they were just nerves or something; he didn’t realize that there were actual physical symptoms, let along such severe ones. He’d been certain Zach was having a heart attack; his skin had gone gray and clammy and he’d obviously been short of breath. It was weird. Worse than weird: frightening. “Does this happen a lot?” he asked Zach softly.
Zach didn’t answer right away, and David was just beginning to think he’d fallen asleep when Zach said in a drained, exhausted voice, “Yeah, too often. Started when I was first in the hospital.”
“It’s scary,” David admitted.
“Try being the one on the inside,” Zach countered. He raised a trembling hand to cover his eyes. “Sorry. Yeah, it’s scary. Scarier than you’d think. ‘Panic’ attack doesn’t cover it. And ‘anxiety’ attack is way off the mark. ‘Terror’ attack, yeah. Maybe. And the worst fucking thing is that it’s nebulous. I don’t know what the fuck I’m scared of.”
“It looks like a heart attack.”
“Feels like one, too. Like your heart’s about to explode.” Zach rubbed his face again. “Sometimes if I’m quick enough, I can get out of wherever I am and away from whatever’s causing the stress. And then it doesn’t happen. But sometimes I can’t, it happens too fast.”
“Being here—being with me—triggered it?” David felt sick.
Again, a long moment of silence; then Zach said in a voice completely devoid of any emotion, “Yeah.”
David turned and sat with his back against the side of the bed. Shit, he thought in distress. Maybe Zach was right. Maybe this wouldn’t work. He thought about what Zach had said yesterday—Jesus, was it only yesterday?—that he didn’t “have a thing” for David. But David had pushed it; even though Zach had told him that he didn’t let anyone kiss him, he’d forced the kiss on Zach last night, and the sex on him this morning. Sure, Zach had gotten into it, had even blown David spectacularly, but shit, Zach was a twenty-two-year-old guy. Blowing David was probably just a friend’s way of compensating for fucking a guy who’d never had anyone’s dick up his ass before. He hadn’t wanted David last night or this morning; he’d only wanted sex. He didn’t want any kind of relationship; David knew that. It was David’s fault Zach had had the panic attack, David who’d pushed him when he didn’t want to be pushed, David who’d demanded more than Zach was willing to give. He felt like having a panic attack of his own.
So what if Zach said something about not knowing what he was doing in a relationship and not wanting to fuck it up? What he really meant was that he didn’t want to fuck up his friendship with David—which was exactly what David was doing to him.
Fuck.
Then he felt gentle fingers touch his hair. “I told you I was fucked up,” Zach said, his voice as raw as David felt. “But you know, lots of things trigger the PAs. Things that I eventually get used to. You know when I had my first one?”
David shook his head. Zach’s fingers brushed his cheek. “When I first saw my parents again.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Any time I feel trapped, or not in control of the situation, or when I don’t know what’s gonna happen next, or how I’m supposed to act, or feel… shit. Pretty much any time I’m not in absolute control—I freak out.” He touched David’s nose gently. “I was on the verge of one last night when you hit me. I hate to admit it, but it stopped it.”
“So, what? Next time I see you start in on a panic attack, I punch your lights out?”
Zach said dryly, “Uh, no. I’d really prefer that you not. It hurt like hell.”
“So, basically, if I want to avoid this, I just don’t put you in a situation like that,” David said. He reached up and drew Zach’s fingers to his lips, pressed them lightly, then released Zach and got up. “I’m going to go down. Mom left sweet rolls in the freezer, and I’m going to put them in the oven and have a cup of coffee. You go ahead and sleep for a while more. You’re tired. Can I get you anything else before I go downstairs?”
“You can do one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Stop treating me like a fucking invalid.”
“Sorry,” David said, and bit back a smartass reply. Instead, he just gave Zach a vague smile. “Just come down when you feel like it.”
“Yeah,” Zach said, and closed his eyes.
David stood there a moment, then went out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen.
ZACH TRIED to get back to sleep, but despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded him. The pillows smelled like David, but he missed David’s warmth. He remembered that day months ago when it had been enough to just lie here in David’s bed, how it had comforted him then. It didn’t comfort him now. Instead, all he could think about was the loss in David’s voice when he’d asked if the panic attack had been because of him, because of what they’d done together. He should have said no, should have come up with some other innocuous reason for freaking out like that, but that “yeah” had escaped. He’d tried to soften it, to explain, and David certainly hadn’t acted like he was mad, but had kissed his fingers gently and been kind.
Even yelling would hav
e been better than kindness.
He got up and went into the bathroom. The face that greeted him in the mirror was certainly nothing to please a lover with: drained and ashen, except for his reddened eyes and the reddened nose that was already beginning to show bruising. Nice. No wonder David went running downstairs. No, to be fair, bad as they were, it wasn’t Zach’s looks that had chased him away, just Zach’s charming personality. Zach washed his face with cold water, trying to reduce the redness, but it didn’t do much good; he blotted himself dry and went back into the bedroom to skin out of the sweats and put his own grubby jeans back on. He left on the T-shirt David had given him and bundled his own still-damp one under his arm, then followed David downstairs.
DAVID WAS sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the Sunday paper. The smell of baking cinnamon rolls perfumed the air. He glanced up, a puzzled look on his face. “Up already?”
“Yeah,” Zach said. “I couldn’t get back to sleep.” He laid the wet T-shirt over the back of a chair.
“The rolls’ll be done in about five minutes,” David said, and started to get up. “Coffee? Just cream, right?”
“No thanks,” Zach said politely. “I don’t need anything.”
David sat back down again and regarded Zach with a serene expression that Zach hated on sight. “Do you want to read the paper?”
“No, I don’t want to read the fucking paper,” Zach said mockingly in the same serene voice.
David closed the paper and folded it, then looked up at Zach. Expectantly. Like he was waiting for something.
Zach swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Whatever it was David was expecting, it apparently wasn’t that. He looked surprised. “What for?” he asked curiously, his eyebrows raised.
“What not for?” Zach said. “For freaking out. For being a dick. For God-damned fucking you when I know that’s not what you wanted. For all of it. For being born.”
“Shut up,” David said, still calmly. “You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. Not a terribly effective method, or a convincing one.”
“Is this how you do it?” Zach demanded. “Is this how you piss off your lovers? Just slide into this serene, untouchable thing? Act all superior over people who don’t have your fucking emotional control? Cuz if that’s how it is, I can see why they dump your ass.”
David sat silent through Zach’s diatribe, his eyes resting composedly on Zach’s face. When Zach stopped, he said, “Well, that has to be the quickest relationship I’ve ever been in. From fucking to recriminations overnight. What’s it been, about eight hours?”
“Fuck you,” Zach said bitterly.
“You already did that,” David replied. “Let me know if you want a repeat and I’ll pencil you in.”
“God damn it, Taff,” Zach exploded, “I don’t fucking want a repeat, not if it’s gonna turn out like this every time.”
“Look, Zach,” David snapped, his composure suddenly gone, “I didn’t want this to begin with. You came over here spoiling for a fight. I kissed you, that’s all. Where it went after that was as much your doing as mine, so don’t fucking blame me for all of it. Yeah, I pushed you where you didn’t want to go. I’m sorry. I didn’t know, and I won’t do it again. I know you didn’t want me, you just wanted to fuck someone and I was available. I made myself available,” he corrected, his voice as bitter as Zach’s had been. “I pushed you too far and it’s my own fault for that.” He shook his head, hard, as if to scatter his thoughts. “Okay, I’m wrong. I am to blame. I should be the one apologizing, so here it is. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“What won’t?” Zach demanded. “You confuse the hell out of me, Taff!”
David stood and rested his hands on the table top. “I won’t kiss you again. I won’t try to push you into a relationship when you’re not interested. I won’t make demands of you. Is that enough?”
“Yes. No. Jesus!” Zach shook his head. “God, you make me crazy.”
There was silence for a moment, then David said quietly, “I don’t mean to confuse you, Zach. I just don’t want to hurt you and I don’t know if I can avoid it.” He swallowed and went on, his voice strained, not at all that calm, complacent voice Zach hated. Zach didn’t like the strained voice much better. “I screwed up last night. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you—shouldn’t have pushed you, should have just let you go right away the way you wanted to.”
“I didn’t want to go,” Zach said.
David looked up, his face as lost as Zach felt.
“I didn’t want you to let me go. I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted to do everything we did—except the panic attack and the punch in the nose, those weren’t so much fun. But everything else…. Jesus, Taff, waking up next to you was the best feeling I’ve ever had.” Zach clenched the back of the chair in front of him. It took an effort of will to look up, into David’s solemn dark eyes. “I lied yesterday when I said I didn’t want you. I want you. I want you so bad it’s killing me. But I’m not what you want—I can’t be what you want. God, you’re so beautiful, you could have anyone. Why would you want someone like me who’s as fucked up inside as I am outside?”
“Maybe because I love you?”
The words hung in the air between them. David waited for Zach’s response, perfectly still, not even breathing.
Zach felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. He gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered.
All expression drained from David’s face. He sat down again and opened the newspaper. “Yeah,” he said flatly, not looking at Zach, “That’s kind of what I thought. Don’t worry about it—I’m not going to press the issue.” He flipped over a page.
“Jesus, Taff, you’re like hot and cold running boyfriend,” Zach complained. “I’m not surprised your lovers dumped you—I’m surprised they didn’t murder you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe by the time they dumped me they didn’t care anymore, either,” David said indifferently, turning another page.
Zach reached out and grabbed the newspaper, yanking it out of David’s hands and throwing it over his shoulder, so it scattered all over the flagstone floor of the kitchen. “God-fucking-damn-it,” he yelled, “pay attention to me!”
David shot to his feet. “I don’t want to pay attention to you!” he shouted back. “I don’t want to stand here and listen to you if you aren’t saying what I want you to say. And you’re not going to say it, so why the fuck are you wasting my time?”
“What do you want me to say?” Zach demanded. “Just tell me!”
David stared at him, breathing hard. “I don’t want you to say anything you don’t feel,” he said finally. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve had enough of people telling me what they think I want to hear, just to make me happy or make me stay or make me feel something I don’t feel. Say what you want. I’m not going to put the words in your mouth. Or don’t say anything. Just… go away.”
“Do you want me to go away?”
“Fuck!” David screamed at the top of his lungs.
Zach burst out laughing.
David stared at him as if he’d lost his mind and dropped back down into his chair. “You fucking asshole,” he said finally. “You louse. You dick. You did that on purpose to make me crazy.”
“Just the last part,” Zach chortled. He came around the table and leaned against it next to David. “No kidding, Taff? You love me? I mean, love love me? Not just cuz we grew up together or any of that shit. But like love, real love?”
“Like love I’d-marry-you-if-it-were-legal-in-Colorado kind of love,” David said soberly. He leaned forward and rested his head against Zach’s abdomen, curling his arms around Zach’s hips and resting them on the table behind him. “I’ve been in love with you for seven fucking years, Zach Tyler, ever since you kissed me, and I don’t care if you’ve got scars or cooties or the screaming heebie-jeebies, I love you and I want you. You can run and hide and pretend if you want to; I ain’t
asking for anything from you, but I want you to know what I feel. I know you aren’t ready for any kind of relationship and that’s okay. I can wait.”
Zach ran his hands through David’s tousled hair, toying with the streaky strands. “You’re completely wacked, you know that, Taff? I don’t know why the hell you’d want someone like me. I’m completely fucked up; I think you know that after last night. But Jesus, I want this. I really, really want this. I’m just kind of scared.”
“I know. Me too.”
They stayed in that position a long time, Zach playing with David’s hair, running it through his fingers; David with his cheek pressed to Zach’s belly, his arms tight around him, Zach’s warmth solid and comforting beneath his cheek. Then the buzzer on the stove went off, and David released Zach to go and get the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. He set the baking sheet on top of the stove and used the spatula to slide the rolls onto the cooling rack before turning to put the pan into the sink.
Zach came up behind him and put his hands on the sink edge to either side of David’s waist, trapping him there. His lips settled on the side of David’s neck.
“Mmm,” David murmured, leaning back against Zach.
“I do love you, I think,” Zach said softly. “I’m not sure what it is. I mean, I want you and trust you, and like you, and…. Shit, Taff. I don’t know what I’m saying. Am I screwing it up again?”
“No,” David said, and turned in his arms, winding his own around Zach’s waist. “Just—you don’t need to say anything. Can I kiss you?”
“God, yes,” Zach breathed and David did, fitting his mouth to Zach’s. Zach put his arms around David, pulling him in close with a faint, contented sigh.
David explored Zach’s mouth leisurely; Zach’s tongue rubbed along his gently, with none of the hurried, anxious urgency of the night before. Oddly, Zach seemed almost hesitant, almost uncertain as he kissed back, always following David’s lead eagerly enough, but never initiating. David drew back and rested his forehead against Zach’s. “Are you okay with this?”
Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits Page 16