An emotion that Rye couldn’t identify rippled through him as the memory of that day almost a year ago came back, and he swallowed and nodded. “I remember. You... you were hurting so much.”
Jake stopped and set his foot back on the ground, frowning. “It was bad, and I’d run out of my meds. I was so grateful you were there.”
With a nod, Rye lowered himself off the bed and onto the ground so he was sitting more level with Jake. Jake’s frown turned into a tight smile.
“So, uh, you know, this is me,” Jake said, motioning to his bad leg. “And it’s not going to get better. I hope you won’t ever have to haul me up off the ground again, but I can’t guarantee anything.” He obviously tried for another smile, but Rye could see the strain in it, his uncertainty.
And so Rye shook his head. He didn’t really know what to say or how to say it, though for once, maybe, it wasn’t because his words were stuck. He looked down at Jake’s bad leg, which was now stretched out flat on the floor.
“You like me... even though I can’t always talk and even though I keep you up all night instead of sleeping and... and even though I can’t let you touch me sometimes. So I can like you... even though your leg hurts. And”—he looked back at Jake with a silly half-smile—“even though you snore.”
And just like that, all the tension left Jake’s eyes, and he laughed—one of those big, hearty laughs that always made Rye feel good. “Do Ireallysnore?”
Rye nodded, grinning a little wider now. “But I was thankful for it the last two nights,” he said, and with a little more seriousness, he added, “Silence at night can be hard for me... like the dark.”
Jake’s smile faltered, and he reached out his hand in invitation. Rye scooted closer, but didn’t take his hand. Instead, Rye moved until he was sitting along Jake’s side, still facing Jake but about even with Jake’s knee. He lowered his eyes to Jake’s thigh, and a tightness in his chest had him inhaling deeply.
“Would it hurt right now? If I...?” Rye lifted his hand and let it hover over Jake’s thigh, just above his knee.
Jake cleared his throat. “Uh, n-no. No, you can.”
With another small half-smile, Rye lowered his gaze. Then he slowly set his hand on Jake’s leg. Even through the thin pair of sweatpants Jake wore, he could feel the muscles in Jake’s thigh tense up, and his smile faded into a frown as he slid his hand gently from Jake’s knee to partway up his thigh, where there was a noticeable indent in the muscle. Jake sucked in a breath, and Rye froze with his hand still on Jake’s leg. When he looked up, Jake had his lips pursed and his eyes closed.
“Does it hurt?” Rye asked quietly, and Jake just shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why—”
Jake shook his head again with a soft laugh, and he opened his eyes to look up at Rye. “It, uh, feels good, actually,” he admitted, and Rye thought maybe helooked a little more flushed than he had a few minutes ago. “And also, uh, I’m not used to anyone touching me like that.”
“Oh. It’s okay, then?”
Jake nodded but didn’t say anything else, and Rye glanced back down. He slowly let his hand drift a little farther up Jake’s thigh, feeling what must have been a huge scar several inches long. He frowned, pursing his lips, and then paused, his thumb rubbing back and forth a few times along Jake’s outer thigh. When he lifted his eyes, Jake was watching him again, staring at Rye’s hand on his leg.
“Still okay?” Rye asked.
“Yeah.” Jake sounded vaguely breathless, which Rye found he liked for some reason.
He wasn’t sure why he had the sudden urge, but he repeated the motion, letting his hand rub back down toward Jake’s knee and then up once more, still gently. And Jake sucked in another breath.
Rye paused and swallowed, wholly unsure about the reaction his body was having to both touching Jake and to hearing the changes in Jake’s breathing. “Sorry... I should let you finish your exercises,” Rye said quietly.
“Hah, no, no, please don’t apologize for that. I liked it. A lot.” Jake reached down slowly and set his hand on top of Rye’s on his thigh. His fingers were warm, caressing gently across Rye’s skin.
It felt good.
And Jake seemed to agree. He smiled softly up at Rye as his fingers continued caressing the back of Rye’s hand. Then he said a breathy, “Thank you.”
Rye had no idea what Jake was thanking him for, but he nodded anyway, and even though he’d intended to get up so Jake could finish his exercises, Rye stayed there for another moment. This place he’d found—this place here, sitting on the floor with Jake, sharing these soft touches—was so comfortable, and he didn’t want to move. Because he’d just realized that for the first time since the previous morning, his mind had actually settled long enough for him to stop being pulled toward that dark, awful place. He still needed to talk to Jake—to tell him about it, about why he’d been so upset the night before, about how Jake’s unwanted touch had made him feel andwhy. But finally, for the moment, he only felt peace and quiet, and he wanted to hang onto that for as long as he could.
He opened his eyes and smiled down at Jake. “Can I... do the rest of your PT exercises with you? You have a few more?”
Jake looked confused, but he nodded. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure,” he said. “Just a few more.”
“’Kay.” Rye grinned. “Just tell me what to do.”
Jake stared at him for a few more seconds, then sat up slowly, his hand still on top of Rye’s on his thigh. “Okay, yeah. So, the next exercise is actually just a stretching exercise, and we’ll need to stand back up...”
