“Even if it was to hurt you?” Cypress’s voice was quiet, tense.
Tom swallowed too much wine, and his throat throbbed from trying to choke it down. He set the mug on his dresser, looking around the disaster that used to be his room as he tried to think the question over.
He couldn’t help but recall how physical Junior had been that day in the parking lot, but he still couldn’t imagine…
“No,” Tom said at last. “Junior knows my whole schedule. He would have known I was gonna be at work. Whatever he wanted here, it wasn’t me.”
“What if he was high?”
“I don’t know,” Tom replied, blindly picking out clothes. Most of them were on the floor, courtesy of whoever had searched his home. His overnight bag was still at Cypress’s, so he shoved everything he grabbed into a big laundry bag.
“I’m sorry,” Cypress said, crouching down to put the drawers back into the dresser. “I’m not trying to upset you.”
“I know. I guess… I don’t know what to think.” Tom grabbed the wine to take a drink. “When it comes down to it, I have no idea what anybody is capable of, I guess.”
“Same goes for you, my little tiger,” Cypress reminded him with a smile. “You’re so much stronger than you know, and we’re going to get through this.”
“Heh, I’m glad one of us thinks so.”
“Hmmph. Iknowso.”
The wine was making Tom’s head swim, but he felt calmer now. Maybe not quite up to tiger status but better. He tied up the end of the bag and chugged the rest of his mug. His cheeks were hot, and he let out a long sigh. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“You don’t need anything else?”
“If I do, we can always come back, right?” Tom looked around, grimacing. “I don’t even want to deal with any of this right now.”
“We can come later, and I’ll help you clean up,” Cypress promised. “Okay?”
“Thank you,” Tom said, hugging Cypress hard. He smiled as Cypress’s strong arms held him, grateful for the sweet affection to keep his worries at bay. “Pretty shit first day of being my boyfriend. Heh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Cypress chuckled. “Mm, you can make it up to me later.”
“Later?” Tom could imagine a lot of different ways to make all of this up to Cypress, and they were all much more appealing than worrying about the current disaster. “Like, tonight later?”
Cypress smiled coyly, teasing, “We’ll see.”
Tom stuck the unfinished wine in the fridge after Cypress assured him that he had more and carried Tom’s bag out to the van. The drive to the flower shop was quiet, and Tom tried to ignore the dread hanging over him.
He was happy to see Mister Doodles, taking her for a walk while Cypress took everything upstairs, including the rest of the groceries he’d bought earlier.
Tom found himself wandering around the little driveway as he let Mister Doodles explore, glancing out to the neighborhood around him. He kept the back door in sight for a convenient retreat in case Junior appeared like some leering monster out of the bushes to grab him.
It was peaceful here, and he was still a little buzzed from the wine. He didn’t want to worry about cleaning up his house—it didn’t even feel likehisanymore. He couldn’t quite articulate how wrong everything felt now, and he wasn’t looking forward to putting it all back together.
But he didn’t have to do it alone.
Cypress was going to be there to help him, and Tom was suddenly grateful for Junior’s nefarious embalming fluid scheme. Tom may not have ever had the courage to ask Cypress out on his own, and though the start of their relationship was a bit questionable, he wouldn’t trade this for anything.
“Hey!” Cypress called out from the door, poking his head out. “You okay out here?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Tom started walking back to the house. “Was kinda zoning out.”
“It’s okay. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Cypress led Tom and Mister Doodles inside, all of them crowding upstairs in the foyer to take off their shoes and Mister Doodles’ leash.
Tom trudged right to the sofa, stretching out with a groan.
Cypress went into the kitchen with Mister Doodles at his heels, and he came back with a glass of wine. “Is it okay if it’s not in a coffee mug?”
