Dad frowns. “I see.”
“I wanted to help him, to make sure he knows he has support and that he doesn’t need to be treated that way, and… I guess I found myself liking him a little differently than I intended to. He’s a good man, bà ba. He’s kind and strong and sweet.”
“He seems very shy,” Jin says.
“That’s a byproduct of his home life,” I explain. “I think he’s like that around most parents because he expects them to demean him the way his do.”
My father’s eyes narrow.
“When I tell you that parents here can beverydifferent from back home, I don’t always mean that in a good way,” I say. “I can’t tell you how many guys I’ve met who have stories that would horrify you. It’s sad. When Felton confided in me, I was sad for him and wanted to make sure he knew he isn’t those things and he doesn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“And he showed you who he really is,” Mom says.
I nod. There’s a lot I could tell them. So much more I could say to make my father understand. But I’ve already said morethan I think I should because I need my parents to understand. I need them to accept him because it’s going to be a really long week if they can’t.
I already know I won’t give up on Felton. That man is mine. I’m going to make him mine. Life will be much simpler if my family supports it.
Finally, my father nods. “It’s not safe at home for you two,” he says.
I sigh. “I know. While I’d love for him to see home… we’ll see. It’s not to that point yet. I really just wanted to make sure you know I wasn’t intentionally keeping something from you. This isn’t a secret. It’s just very new. Our friendship isn’t, that’s been growing for a couple months. But this other thing—that’s new. Like… days. Maybe only hours.”
“Very well,” Dad says. “We can talk in the morning. Go to bed.”
I incline my head and then kiss my mother’s cheek. After grabbing a couple waters, I head back into my bedroom.
Seeing Felton curled up in my bed, I feel this profound sense of home. This is how I want to go to bed every night. To find him with a soft smile on his lips as he falls asleep.
Careful not to wake him, I grab a pair of shorts and head into the bathroom for my own nighttime routine. Seeing his clothes from the day in the basket makes me feel ridiculously happy. It’s dirty laundry! Who’s happy about that?
Me. The answer is me.
I love this brand-new integration of our lives. Even if it’s temporary. Seeing his toothbrush in the cup by the sink—his sink. Seeing the sink wet, having recently been used. A wet washcloth on the bar and a damp hand towel hanging on the hook.
And Felton’s clothes that he wore today in the hamper. I refuse to be one of those people who picks up his shirt and smellsit. Instead, I very determinedly strip down and toss my clothes on top of his before slipping into the shorts I sleep in.
Felton’s eyes flutter open as I climb into bed. I feel better having been honest with my family. Even if Felton says nothing about his family, I think I’ve said enough that they’ll witness themselves how his relationship with his father specifically has shaped him.
He’s not confident in anything. His seeking approval isn’t a vain need to make people like him. It’s an innate need forsomeoneto tell him he’s not a fuckup. He’s not a disappointment.
“Is everything okay?” Felton asks as I slide closer to him after I turn the light off.
Bringing him into my arms, I smile when he immediately wraps his arms around me. “Yes.” There’s no need for a further explanation tonight. The LGBTQ climate back home and why I needed to talk to my parents tonight can wait. There’s no need to put that kind of worry and pressure on him. “Just saying goodnight to my parents.”
“Do they like me?” he whispers.
It breaks my heart to hear the insecurity in his voice.
“Yes,” I tell him because I have no reason to think otherwise. “Anyone who knows you likes you. If they don’t, they’re not really looking at you at all.”
Felton sighs. We don’t talk again. I wrap myself around him, keeping him as close to me as I possibly can. I don’t want even a second to pass where he thinks he’s alone. Felton needs to feel me everywhere. He needs to know that no matter what time he opens his eyes, I’m going to be right here.
I’ve sleptwith Felton before. But it was a kind of unintentional sleep. When he showed up in the early hours of the morning and we slept on the couch. When I tucked him into the spare room and held him in my arms.
This is very different. None of those were purposeful. Last night was the first night we shared a bed intentionally.
He didn’t move at all. When I open my eyes, Felton is still tucked into my chest just how we fell asleep. I think he’s awake because I can feel the way his eyelashes move against my skin.
He seems peaceful this morning. It doesn’t feel like anything is hanging over his head. There’s no residual tension from outside pressures; he’s completely relaxed in my arms.
