Jay
I gaze out the window behind the kitchen sink.
Reese spreads compost over the plants in his garden with a rake.The orange glow of the sunset makes his beard and face appear the same color.He’s so beautiful in this moment. He doesn’t look like he belongs in the realworld, but in a painting.
His serene expression as he tends to his work is so differentfrom the look he had when he had that episode at the factory two days ago. Itwas devastating watching him fall apart, but I was just glad he let me helphim. That he didn’t keep pushing me away. I was worried he wouldn’t accept thehelp. I would’ve acted the same way if that had happened to me. But we’ve cometoo far, and he needs to know that we’re in this together. That I want to behere for him, and I want to let him be here for me.
I enjoy watching him outside for a few moments before I continuemarinating the steak we’re having for dinner.
Reese’s place is starting to feel like home. Some days I forgetI live fifteen minutes away. I still have to swing by to pick up clothes, butCharlie’s teased me saying that I’m the best damn roommate in the world. “Allcash, no hassle,” he joked last time I was there.
When Reese comes inside, covered in sweat, he gives me a gentlekiss before heading to the bedroom to shower off. He returns while I’m settingthe table. He’s just in a towel, his body fierce as ever.
I’m jealous of how big his muscles are. I go to the gym too, butdamn, I could never have his chest, which is so big it practically makes the topbuttons of his shirts bust off. We sit down at the table and eat. He slides thecomics section from the center of the table to beside his plate and asks mewhich ones he needs to read, and I eagerly offer recommendations. We chat aboutwork and then what movie we want to watch tonight, but I can’t keep fromscanning his body, appreciating it, appreciatinghim.
“You don’t have to treat me like a piece of meat,” he teaseswith a smirk as he notices my continual glances.
“I’m fine with that as long as you’re willing to treat me likeone.”
He gets up out of his chair and opens his towel, revealing hisstiffening cock. He approaches me slowly, a determined look in his eyes as hecloses his towel, hiding that part from me.
“Why don’t you help me clean up this mess so we can make a newone?” he asks.
“I like the sound of that.” We take care of the food and dishesbefore freshening up in the bathroom.
I’m already lying in the bed when he steps out of the bathroom,having brushed his teeth. He removes the towel, sliding beside me. He grabs thesheet and pulls it up to cover his prosthetic. He glances at me awkwardly.
“You don’t have to hide anything from me,” I say.
I haven’t had the guts to say anything before. I never wantedhim to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable about it. But I’ve noticed he stilltries to hide it when he can.
His lips twist into his dimples. “You’re not the one I’m hidingit from.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no.” He slides the sheet down to reveal it.
“It’s just a habit I’ve gotten into. It’s always made me feellike there’s something wrong with me. Just reminds me, not just of how I’mbroken-down there, but in my head, too. But I don’t want to live my life tryingto hide it from myself. I realized that when I had that episode and the guyscame in. I can’t keep living in fear. This is my life. This is who I am. Andit’s not so bad. Not anymore. Not now that you’re in it.”
“Whatever. You were fine long before I came along.”
“I was fine, but you’ve changed a lot in my life in such a shorttime, and I appreciate that so fucking much.”
“You’ve changed a lot with me, too. Who would’ve thought I wouldbe getting invited to dinners with my co-workers considering how we startedout?”
He smiles. “But it’s because you’re an amazing person. Adefensive prick sometimes, but an amazing person.”
His words heal something within me—mend the broken person thatI’ve been all these years.
His eyes shift for a moment before he says, “I was going to waitto share this with you, but I think now’s actually a really good time.” Heslides off the bed and hurries to the closet. I enjoy watching his ass cheeksshake about.
“Another thong?” I tease. Not that I’d have any problem withthat.
He turns to me, beaming as he retrieves an envelope from the topshelf. He returns, handing it to me.
“What is it?” I ask.
He just smiles. While he gets back in the bed, I open it. It’stwo print-outs. Tickets to the Louis C.K. show.
