Chapter 15
Jeremy wandered around the living room while Harrison finished cleaning up in the kitchen. He’d offered to help but Harrison wouldn’t hear of it. “I want you to relax,” he’d said, pressing a quick kiss to Jeremy’s lips. “I won’t be long.”
The apartment was smaller than Jeremy’s, but newer. It was neat, the kind of home that had a place for everything and everything in its place. He tilted his head sideways to read some of the titles on the bookshelf beside the entertainment unit. Jeremy always gravitated toward the bookshelf first when getting to know someone’s home. Books gave the best clues about the people who lived there. Their interests, hobbies, favourite genres. You could tell a lot about a person based on whether they read space operas or true crime novels. On Harrison’s top shelf, books on stoicism by Seneca and Marcus Aurelius were side by side with books about superhero origin stories. Below that was a wider variety of topics: resilience, emotional intelligence, neuropsychology, and a collection of comic books. Jeremy pulled out a couple of the comics—every one was from a different series with no obvious connection. The mix was interesting, but rather than giving him concrete clues about Harrison’s personality, the collection only deepened the mystery.
Giving up on the bookshelves, Jeremy noticed a frame hanging on the opposite wall that looked to contain a poem. As he wandered closer he recognised Harrison’s hand in the strong shape of the letters and the way the words were laid out on the paper. The fact he’d gone to the effort of creating such a beautiful piece of artwork, and put it up on the wall, told of its importance.
Jeremy stood in front of it now, reading the words so artfully placed there.Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, For my unconquerable soul…
He recognised the poem, had studied Henley’s work in high school. At the timeInvictushad inspired him to live his life exactly as he was, without shame or remorse. He’d never felt he was caught in ‘the fell clutch of circumstance’ or anything so dire, but he knew as a young gay man he would have to choose between living discretely, to avoid backlash from what at the time was still basically a homophobic society, or living his truth out in the open. He’d chosen the latter and doing so had made him feel brave.
Harrison approached, coming to stand at his side.
“Are you the master of your fate?” Jeremy asked him, his gaze still riveted to the immortal words. “The captain of your soul?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Harrison’s chin lift a notch. “I am today.”
Turning to face the other man, Jeremy reached out to takes his hands, lacing their fingers together. “Thank you for dinner, and for the wine. Now, I would like to finish my tour of your home.” He took a step backward, leading Harrison to the short hallway leading to the section of the apartment he hadn’t been in yet. “I’ve seen the living room and the kitchen, but I haven’t seen—”
“The bathroom?” Harrison teased, steering him a little to the left.
Jeremy smiled. “Come now, Harry. Don’t be coy.”
Everything stopped. The teasing glint in his eye. The slow, measured steps. “Don’t call me that.” The humour that had coloured his voice—it was gone, too.
“Don’t call you Harry?” Jeremy frowned, taken aback by the vehemence of his reaction. “Why not?”
“Just don’t.”
“All right.” Jeremy straightened his fingers, though Harrison continued to grip onto him. “You’re holding on too tight.” Release came instantly. Cool air met Jeremy’s damp palms and he realised how deep Harrison’s reaction to the seemingly innocuous nickname ran.
Jeremy took a step closer, disturbed by the haunted look in his lover’s eyes, but at the same time longing to chase it away. “I can think of better things to call you, anyway.”
Harrison swallowed hard. “Like what?” he whispered.
“Like, sexy.” Jeremy placed a kiss on the corner of Harrison’s mouth. “Talented.” Another kiss, to the other corner. “Generous.” Harrison chased his mouth when he backed away, stealing his own kiss. “Funny,” Jeremy added to the list.
Pulling back, Harrison seemed nonplussed by that last one. “Funny?” There was a sense of wonder in his eyes, as if no one had ever called him funny before and he liked it.
“Yes, you’re funny.” Jeremy brushed the tip of one finger against the end of his nose. “You make me laugh.”
Harrison made a strange noise that might have been approval.
“I’d like to hear you laugh some time.”
His eyes slid away. “Maybe I laugh like a donkey and that’s why I don’t do it,” he suggested. “Too embarrassing.”
Chuckling, Jeremy shook his head at him. “See,” he said, as if Harrison’s words proved his previous point, “you are funny.”
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he murmured in a low voice.
Catching Harrison’s face between his hands, Jeremy smiled. “You’re forgiven.” Harrison gazed into his eyes, and Jeremy could see the last vestiges of regret still lurking there.
“Let me make it up to you.” The rough words were barely out of Harrison’s mouth before their lips were pressed together. Jeremy opened his mouth instantly, inviting Harrison inside, showing him acceptance without words.
Harrison’s hands found his again, lifting them up so their palms were touching. He didn’t hold on this time, only using the contact to guide Jeremy backward until they’d entered the bedroom and made their way to the side of the bed.
The room was dark. Heavy curtains blocked out any sign of moonlight. Harrison moved away for a moment and then a bedside lamp came on, chasing away the worst of the dark.
