“Maybe?” The last thing they’d eaten was finger sandwiches at the party the day before.
“Is toast okay? We’re out of eggs.”
“Seb?” Martin checked over his shoulder. “Is toast—”
Seb was in the living room, standing next to the couch, still unfolded like Martin had been there all weekend. Seb took off his coat and let it drop to the floor. He pulled things from his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone. The screen flashed an incoming call as he set it on the coffee table.Oliver, it said. They were probably waking up—Oliver, his parents—only to find Seb and Martin both gone without so much as a note.
Seb dropped to the mattress like a puppet whose strings were cut. Martin was half afraid that Seb might be crying, and then half afraid when he realized he wasn’t.
“Maybe we’ll skip breakfast,” he said.
“Are you sure? I can—”
Martin put a hand on his brother’s arm. “We’ll be fine.”
Brian left them to go back to work. Finally being alone was a relief. He followed Seb’s example, losing his coat and emptying his pockets. He toed off his shoes. He should have suggested Seb do the same, but the hard line of Seb’s spine appeared taught enough to break. So instead, Martin lay down on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. A spider was making a web inside one of the pot lights.
Seb still hadn’t moved. His body held too much tension for him to be asleep, but he clearly didn’t want to talk.
Martin rolled, pillowing his arm under his head. He slid forward until his knees were tucked under Seb’s, and his chest was pressed to Seb’s back. He waited for Seb to push him away, but like on the street, he gave no response. When Martin slid his hand under Seb’s soft T-shirt, his heart thumped steadily, like nothing was wrong.
Martin kissed the nape of Seb’s neck and was rewarded with a shiver: the only sign of real life Seb gave him in hours.
It was enough.
They stayed like that until Martin fell asleep.
* * *
When he woke up, it was cold again, but different than on the street. Not cold that came from standing outside for hours in the dark. Just uncomfortable, like someone had stolen all the covers. Or like the body warming him wasn’t there anymore.
A soft voice came from the kitchen.
Martin rolled, and the smell of smoke filled his nostrils, wafting off his clothes, his hair, everywhere. He stared at the ceiling. The spider was still there.
Seb was hunched over the kitchen table. His phone was pressed to his ear, and he held a pencil in his other hand, doodling on the back of an envelope.
“Okay,” he said, to whoever was on the phone. “Yeah. No. Yes.” Single syllables. He glanced up when Martin passed through the doorway but didn’t return Martin’s smile. “Yeah. I understand, Kenny.”
Martin waited, but the conversation kept going, and eventually he wandered away.
The shower was good. He let the hot water roll over the back of his neck and down his spine. His suitcase was still in the rental car downtown, including his shampoo, so he borrowed the cheap stuff Brian liked. He soaped his hair twice, until the manufactured masculine smell covered the smoke.
He kept clean clothes in a dresser Jess must not have wanted in the old guest room. Thinking of Jess made him picture Brian, looking defeated on the front porch. Had that only been two days ago?
Clean and dressed, Martin checked the kitchen, but it was empty. Seb’s phone was still on the kitchen table, showing another call coming in from Oliver. Martin hesitated. He should answer it, let Oliver at least know what had happened.
The screen went dark, and concern over Seb got the better of him. He made his way back down the hall to the den, where Seb was on the pullout again. His shoes were off, but the rest of him was in the same place as before.
“Seb?”
“I’m kinda tired.” His voice was flat. The words formed little shards of ice in Martin’s chest. He knew those words. He’d used them so many times.
“Oh. Okay.” He lay down on the mattress again, their bodies making little squiggles against each other. This time, Seb squeezed his hand when he pulled them together. Martin listened and waited. In minutes, he felt the tension ease. Seb’s body sagged, and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep.
His hair smelled like smoke.
* * *
