by Jude Sierra
“You are lovely,” Joaquim says, as surprised when the words come out as Reid’s face shows he is.
“Shut up. I’m a mess,” Reid says. Joaquim stops him from turning away with a palm to his cheek.
“I like your glasses.” He sits up, propped on one hand. His eyes flicker to Reid’s lips, and he traces Reid’s cheekbone and his ear before kissing him under it. Now when Reid’s hand touches his chest, the touch manifests his intention to keep Joaquim there for a very different reason.
“Do that some more, and maybe I’ll believe you.” Joaquim hears the teasing in Reid’s voice. He kisses him again and then kisses down his throat. Caught and suspended in sleepy desire, there’s nothing but them. Joaquim can keep Reid here, forgetting the world outside this door. Once they open it, Felix and whatever host of problems he’s brought into Reid’s life will be unavoidable.
Reid rolls on top of him and catches Joaquim’s lips with his own; every kiss tastes like desperation, every touch demands escape, and, although Joaquim doesn’t have the time, he’s dizzyingly hard in minutes. Reid’s body rolls easily against his, a sensual rocking and receding that’s impossible not to get lost in. Joaquim breaks out of another kiss, a bruising kiss, and gasps Reid’s name. Reid is impossibly here and real in his arms, but not nearly close enough. Joaquim fumbles with Reid’s clothes and Reid impatiently pushes his hands away and pulls their underwear down with fumbling hands. Reid is fire in his arms, whimpering and shaking, and, caught in it, Joaquim comes in seconds.
“Fuck,” he pants while Reid rolls off of him. “I think I may have been a little too loud.”
“Who fucking cares,” Reid says. From his laundry basket, he grabs a shirt, which he tosses to Joaquim. He strips his own shirt and grabs another; Joaquim can’t read his expression since his back is turned.
“Reid, you didn’t do that on purpose, did you?” Because that would be pretty fucking passive-aggressive of you.
“No,” Reid says, sitting on the bed next to him. His face is nothing but open, even a little hurt. “I wouldn’t do that. Well, maybe in the past. But not getting sucked into that dynamic with Felix is something I’ve worked on. I promise. That was just… that was all you.” Reid meets his eyes. “You make me forget so easily. It’s like there’s nothing but you.”
Joaquim doesn’t speak. He lets Reid touch his cheek and hopes, very deeply, that Reid can see on his face how much that means. Reid—oh, this boy; so much, too much, and so soon.
“You need a shower,” Reid whispers.
“You do too,” Joaquim points out. Reid shakes his head.
“I think that might be a little too much. For him. Salt in the wound and all.”
“Shit, sorry. I wasn’t even thinking—”
Reid kisses him. “Don’t worry, I know. Let me get you a towel.”
Sixteen
Felix is nowhere to be seen when they emerge from the bedroom. Coffee is brewed. It’s either an olive branch or yet another passive-aggressive move. Reid doesn’t much care, because there is coffee in his mug and he’s still warm from his morning with Joaquim. The shower starts, and Reid takes his coffee out onto the porch. He’s tempted to walk down to the water to see if Felix is there. Other than wandering the condo grounds, he can’t think where else Felix would go. It might be too much to hope he’s actually left.
Alone with the morning and his coffee, Reid acknowledges something he would never tell Joaquim: He doesn’t want Felix to be gone, not on the lingering notes from the night before and this morning. No matter how much he changes, he’s tied to Felix. It’s something like love, something like guilt, something sown in deep history. Maybe one day they’ll be ready for a goodbye that’s more than geographic space and the silence between texts. Some part of Reid can’t help but hope for a healthy friendship or a peaceful resolution. Rachel insists that this is why he can’t be free of Felix, that Reid is holding on for the impossible.
Felix appears, ascending from the beach. Reid can’t quite reconcile this shadow Felix, the ghost of so many aches, with the one with plain brown hair and a green shirt and hideous tan cargo shorts. He doesn’t greet Reid when he opens the screen door, but he does sit with him. They respect the quiet together. Reid doesn’t hide that he’s watching Felix; he doesn’t turn away when Felix catches his eye. Evaluating his reactions, Reid is relieved by the utter lack of attraction this boy has for him now. He doesn’t want Felix in the least.
What he does want is for Felix to stop coming back to him. He wants them to be at rest. Felix may not be resigned, but he might be at peace with Reid’s decision to break things off. Calling Joaquim last night served many purposes. Reid needed that grounding; later, he’ll examine how quickly he acknowledges the way Joaquim provides that. It also sent a clear message to Felix: This is over. I’ve moved on. Perhaps it’s not the nicest way to handle things. Maybe he used both Felix and Joaquim to set himself apart. Reid hopes, though, that for once, or finally, both he and Felix will feel the seismic shift in their relationship. They can learn how to build from there.
In the condo, Joaquim emerges from the bathroom. His hair is still wet, messy, and black. Reid turns to offer him a smile; uncertainty is written across Joaquim’s face. Reid crosses to him.
“There’s coffee,” he says, quietly. “I can put some in a to-go mug for you.”
Joaquim evaluates him before nodding. “That would be great.” Reid can’t say what Joaquim has gotten from the assessment, but he doesn’t seem upset with Reid.
Felix stays on the porch.
“Will you be okay? How are you going to get him to—”
“Don’t worry,” Reid interrupts. “I can handle this.”
Joaquim’s face clearly states that he doesn’t trust this. Reid swallows a seed of frustration. He’d been a mess when he called Joaquim last night. Of course Joaquim is worried.
“Listen,” he continues. “I was a mess last night. He took me by surprise. And yeah…” He checks to make sure Felix can’t see him. “…I don’t want him here. It’s not good for me. But I can handle this.”
Joaquim’s eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean it’s not good for you?”
Fuck. Think fast. “Would your ex showing up out of nowhere be good for you?”
“Okay. I see what you’re saying. I’m not trying to make you feel like you can’t handle this. Please just call if you need me?”
“You have class today, right?” He’s not sure why he doesn’t want to promise. Yeah, sometimes I fail, but everyone does, right?
“Yeah, and a night dive.”
“Don’t look upset. That’s awesome. A night dive sounds so cool.” Reid touches the line between Joaquim’s eyebrows lightly and rises on his toes to kiss him. “Call me when you’re done, okay? I wanna hear all about it.”
When Joaquim gathers him in, Reid lets himself go, puts his head on Joaquim’s shoulder, and sighs. He smells like Reid’s bath products; it’s not bad, but it’s not Joaquim’s smell.
A thump and a cleared throat announce Felix. “Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted more coffee.”
Like hell you did. Reid steps away from Joaquim slowly. He wouldn’t have minded that hug lasting longer, but the clock tells him Joaquim is dangerously close to late. Felix’s face is disarmingly neutral, almost blank. Reid recognizes the face Felix wears when people hurt him and he can’t expose himself by showing pain. He won’t.
A small pang bursts, but Reid has to swallow. I’m not doing anything wrong. I set limits. Over and over he’s read about the dynamics of their relationship. Changing codependence with someone who refuses to do so as well is hard. Reminding himself that Felix was unable to respect what Reid asked for doesn’t mean Reid has to feel guilty or upset.
“Go ahead,” Joaquim says, graciously. He puts his own mug down and, at the door, tugs his shoes on.
“No, here.”
Reid presses the to-go mug into his hands. “You’ll give it back when I see you again.”
Joaquim looks at Felix, who is blatantly staring at them. Reid’s sigh comes from deep in his belly. “Come on.”
Out on the small patio, the sun is brighter. Reid doesn’t drop Joaquim’s hand, but tugs him into his arms, hugs him, and gives him a small kiss.
“Careful, you’ll scandalize the old ladies,” Joaquim says, lips smiling against Reid’s. Reid cups Joaquim’s face. His eyes are warm and even in the sunlight. His lips, with their perfect cupid’s bow, and his lovely brown skin tug at Reid; he’s beautiful and charming and, right now, inexplicably, his. He kisses Joaquim again, more slowly.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he whispers.
“I’ll call you,” Joaquim says as he opens his car door. Reid nods, already backing up, hand on the doorknob. The sunlight is so clean; the sky is scattered with puffy, perfect white clouds. Even when Joaquim’s car has gone around the corner and is hidden by the trees, Reid lingers. Tension presses through the door behind him. He doesn’t want to go back to the anxiety and fear and that stupid ache Felix inspires, not when he’s found something like this. Reid’s struggles still exist here, in this place, in so many ways, but nothing here has been touched by home; his secret history is tucked away, unknown. It’s been easier to manage, even at his worst, than his life in Eau Claire.
Felix is on the couch flipping through the channels.
“Where’s the History channel?” he asks. Felix has a penchant for war documentaries. Fondness mixes with everything else inside Reid.
“I have no idea,” Reid says. He sits, too, but in an armchair, nowhere close to Felix. “I almost never watch TV, to be honest.”
“Really?” Felix raises an eyebrow, and Reid shrugs. Felix might be the only person in Reid’s life who knows how intensely Reid can binge-watch TV shows. He used to tease Reid incessantly about some of them, but in Reid’s room he was happy enough to curl up, watch along, and let the semi-dark hold them. They never had to talk, then. They could exist together in a temporary bubble. But something always popped it: Reid’s parents, or the incessant ring of Felix’s phone as his parents called him, or they themselves, with the stupid fights they’d have.
“I like how quiet it can be here,” Reid says. “The sound of the water.”
“This doesn’t seem like you, Reid. What about concerts? There can’t be any good places to see live music here.”
Reid shakes his head. It’s strange, having someone else remind him of who he is. Reid’s always loved concerts, loved getting lost in a crowd of people absorbing and experiencing the same moment, the same sounds. Reid used to go and see musicians and bands he’d never heard of. Here, he hasn’t missed that at all. Reid doesn’t want to lose such pleasures. He just doesn’t want them right now.
“Don’t you get lonely?” Felix curls a leg up on the couch and turns toward Reid.
Reid wishes Felix would mute the TV. “Maybe, sometimes.” Reid has to think about it. Even loneliness tastes better here. “I have a job, though. I took diving classes—”
“That how you met him?”
“Yeah,” Reid says, working hard to keep any fondness out of his voice. “It’s not just that. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone here. Or, I didn’t.” Reid doesn’t mention his slips; talking to his group doesn’t count. Felix wouldn’t understand. He doesn’t think he needs therapy. He always told Reid that their problems weren’t remotely the same. Reid can’t argue with that. After all, no one ever hospitalized Felix or sent him away. Reid understands that their need for help isn’t mutually exclusive. Just because Reid’s the more obvious mess doesn’t mean Felix isn’t a mess as well. Felix absolutely refuses to acknowledge this.
“Which means you haven’t told him anything,” Felix concludes.
Reid’s face flushes. He picks up a throw pillow. Its fringed edges feel good running between his fingers.
“How on earth are you keeping cutting from him when you’re fucking him?”
“Shut up,” Reid snaps. “That is so not your business.”
“You fucked him this morning when I was right here! God, that was such a dick move, Reid.”
“Okay,” Reid says. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to remain calm, even when a familiar anger eats at him. “That’s fair. I didn’t—it wasn’t on purpose or anything. For you to hear.” What more can he say? Any explanation would be unkind. Even less kind. I couldn’t help myself? It’s so good, when I’m with him; nothing’s ever been like this?
“What the fuck ever.” Felix picks up the remote to snap the TV off and tosses it back on the couch. His movements are jerky, and his eyes are bright.
“No, really,” Reid says. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Felix. I promise. When I told you I was leaving, you didn’t believe me. You told me I couldn’t do it and that I wouldn’t make it.”
Felix looks away.
“But I did do it. I am doing it. I am moving on and I’m sorry that you can’t do the same.”
“I could if I wanted to,” Felix says.
Reid almost scoffs but controls himself in time. “Felix, two people have to want to be in a relationship for it to work.”
“I don’t mean that. God, don’t patronize me!”
“I’m not trying to! But I don’t know what else to say. Dude, I wish this could be easier for you. For us. But it’s not.”
“You said we would still be friends.” Felix’s voice cracks, and no matter how Reid tries to harden his heart, it isn’t.
“And then you kissed me, and then we fucked, and after that you said being together was inevitable. That’s how it always went. How else could our relationship ever go, when we couldn’t let each other go?” Reid asks.
Felix presses his fingers under his eyes, catching tears before they fall. Reid wants so much to hug him. Hurting Felix is like hurting himself. They’re too tied together, still, but Felix can’t stay here long. He wasn’t lying when he told Joaquim that Felix wasn’t good for him.
“Look, Felix. I wish I could have it both ways. You in my life. Me getting better. Us being friends. But right now, it can’t be that way.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Felix asks again. Reid blinks, thrown off by the sudden redirection of the conversation.
“Tell him what?”
“That guy—” Felix jerks a thumb toward the door. “Seriously, can you honestly say that you’ll ever tell him everything?”
“What’s your point?”
“How will it ever be real with someone when they don’t really know you?”
“I don’t see how this is your business,” Reid says again. He’s been wondering that very thing ever since their first date. He’s worked pretty hard to hide everything from Joaquim. But this morning, in the sunlight, Joaquim’s kiss is his to keep. Reid knows in his heart that if he wants to keep more than that, he’ll have to reveal secrets.
“Don’t.” He stops Felix as he’s about to speak. “Don’t you dare tell me I can’t. I’m so tired of everyone telling me what I’m incapable of, of them not trusting me, not thinking I know what’s best for myself. This is mine to figure out, Felix.”
“Do you really think I don’t believe in you?” The question seems genuine.
“I think you think you do. But you act like you don’t. And your actions speak louder. They hurt more.”
Felix stands suddenly and pulls his phone out of his pants.
“What are you doing?” Reid stands too.
“Getting an Uber. Getting out of here.”
Reid gets to his feet and puts a hand on Felix’s arm. Felix shrugs it off.
“It’s okay, Reid. I guess this…” He gestures around them, and Reid has no idea if he means this place, Reid living here, or their current situation.
“This?”
�
�I don’t want to lose you completely either. I don’t, I’m sorry if I made you feel like that. I am. I’m trying to figure out my shit too.”
“You are?” Reid asks. They’ve never gotten to this point in any conversation.
“Yeah. And I wanted to do it with you. But that’s not right, is it?”
“Wanting to be with me?”
“Thinking it had to be with you. Assuming that’s what you would need, is me to help you.”
Reid can’t say anything, because Felix is right to leave. Months ago, Reid would have jumped at the chance to work things out together. Months ago, he didn’t know that there was no way for them to get better with each other.
“I guess,” Felix says, and this time he doesn’t catch his tears fast enough, “I wasn’t listening to you. But I am now. I’m going to show you that I can do this.”
Reid catches Felix’s wrist and, against his better judgment, hugs him. He won’t take it further than that. To his surprise, Felix doesn’t try to persuade him. Felix inhales, as if to capture a memory, to remind himself of things that are familiar. Reid lets him. Despite the pain of having to hurt Felix, of having to keep cutting the cords between them, Reid finally feels in his gut what’s been there all along. He’s free. It’s freedom that’s come with a price, freedom he has to keep working at.
Happiness is his to capture, and he can’t have it when he’s tied to Felix. He hopes that Felix understands that now, too. It isn’t only that Felix isn’t good for him. Reid isn’t good for Felix either.
Felix packs what little he’s brought with him while he waits for his ride.
“Where will you go?” Reid asks.
“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.”
“How could I not?” Reid asks. “I still care.”
“Yeah,” Felix smiles. It’s small and forced. “I’ll text you wherever I end up and let you know I’m okay.”
“Do you need money?” Reid asks. Felix presses his lips together, and Reid rushes to assuage the offence. “I have extra. It’s not a big deal; just…” All the work he’s done, will this undo it? “…let me do this one last thing for you. Please?”