I carried him straight to the kitchen, plopping him down onto one of the chairs at the table. “There you go. Eat up. And a thank you would be appreciated.”
At first, his stare was armed with daggers. He glanced down, looking at the food on his plate, then back up at me. When our eyes met again, every muscle in his face relaxed. The crinkles around his eyes softened, forming lines rather than cracks. “Thank you, Daddy. Seriously.”
I leaned down, holding the side of his face, and pressed a kiss right on the top of his head. “Anything for you. Anything and everything until there’s nothing left to do.”
My very ownmakeshift first-aid kit lined the bathroom counter, reminding me of the third scariest night of my life. Each piece called out to me with whispers of what could’ve, what should’ve, and what would’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up when I did.
The first night was the first night without my parents. Harrison and I had grieved enough for two lifetimes, not knowing what was ahead of us. Our tears had made an entire ocean—a harbor overflowing with nothing but deep, unmistakable sadness that held us with a sharp grip, its claws anchoring beneath our skin, not wanting to ever let go. At least our tears hadn’t been alone. We’d had each other to hold on to, both rocking on the floor of our childhood home, wondering what came next. Did they have a will? How did we plan a funeral? Not just a funeral for one person, but two? The two people who had meant the world to us.
When we were kids, we looked at our parents like they’d personally hung the moon just for us to look at. They were the superheroes in every make-believe story we could come up with when we played. They were the center of our universe, and suddenly, they were gone. Forever. And we were left with an empty house that wasn’t empty in the slightest. It had so much stuff and so many memories.
The second night was the night I’d found Harrison, and my world had stopped turning for a while. I’d become stagnant, my body in such disbelief that it couldn’t make a single tear fall frommy eyes. I knew how to plan a funeral. It was easier with only one person. I knew he didn’t have a will. I knew how he wanted to be buried, because we’d talked about it. We’d talked about us both making wills, yet he never did, and that pissed me off to no end. I still wondered, all this time later, if I’d done him justice. If I’d gotten every detail right for his send-off into the great unknown.
I had Olivia to share the grief with, yet I was lonelier than ever before. Another soul-crushing round of grief, this time for someone I’d shared my entire life with. I’d shared a womb with him, only parting ways for an entire sixty seconds before he’d finally come out with me. We were best friends. We were brothers. But on that night, we became nothing. I became the beta fish circling the waters, waiting to find his, forever going in circles with nowhere to rest.
And then Moon. My midnight guide with stars for a smile. If I hadn’t been there, if I hadn’t intervened…I was afraid to know what would’ve happened.
So, I looked away from the medical supplies and turned on my heel, watching as Moon slowly lowered himself into the tub. The cuts didn’t look too bad; all of them had scabbed over and were waiting for some TLC to heal all the way up. Now that they were cleaner, I was able to see exactly how deep it ran. There were old scars mixed with fresh ones. Some were a pinkish purple, while others were white. Some were long, some were barely more than a scratch. But there were no scars on his tattoos, only fresh wounds.
“Am I that irresistible? Not that I mind you staring at me, of course.”
“Sorry, I was just trying to see how the cuts were doing.”
He looked down, running a hand over them beneath the water. “They’re not bad. Just in really bad places.”
I kneeled to the floor beside the tub, grabbing a loofah and some of my body wash. “How so?”
“Oh, fuck no.”
The cap of the body washsnickedas I opened it and paused. “What’s wrong? I was going to wash you, but I don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“I am very comfortable with it, but you can’t use that to wash me with.”
“The loofah?”
He nodded. “Loofahs are the fucking devil. They catch on shit, and if you pull, they’ll tear shit out. Like these things.” He pointed to the barbells in his nipples, shivering as he said it.
I cringed, trying to imagine what that would feel like. “Yeah, okay, you’re right. Let me get a washcloth, then.”
Aside from literally everything about him, Moon’s nipple rings were one of my favorite things on his body. I’d only gotten to see them without his shirt on twice, both times far too sensitive ones to bring them up.
Grabbing a washcloth instead, I soaked it with the bath water and poured some of my body wash on it. “Care if I wash you, baby? You can just lie back and relax.”
He beamed up at me, resting his head against the wall behind him. “Please do, Daddy.”
There was nothing else I wanted more in the entire world than to take care of him at that moment. In all moments. I’d been so wrong in the beginning of our friendship, thinking I just wanted to be there for him. There was no way in hell I could ever justbe therefor him. I wanted to be there and take care of him in every way possible. I needed to lift the weight off his shoulders so he wouldn’t feel so heavy that he thought he had to bleed to alleviate it.
I scrubbed his arms gently, taking care to go over every inch of skin on them before running the washcloth up to hisshoulders and down his collarbones, meeting at his chest. I was gentle around his chest, making sure I didn’t do more than squeeze soapy water across his nipples. His eyes were closed, his head still planted against the wall as I lifted each of his arms and scrubbed under his armpits.
Cleaning him—removing the layer of hurt and anguish from the day before off his skin—was calming with an added sense of pride. This was my job. My responsibility. My way of making sure he was cared for, and his heart wasn’t too heavy for him to carry.
“Lift your leg, baby.” He kicked one out of the water, suspending it just above the surface. I cleaned each one like that, cleaning in between each of his toes. By the time the water had gone cold, Moon was squeaky clean and close to falling back asleep.
I pulled the plug from the drain and nudged him a little. “Come on. Let’s get you dried off, okay?”
He whined and frowned, but eventually let me help him stand up and into a towel. Instead of letting me help him dry off, he took the towel from my hands and did it himself, although slowly. “I guess I need to tend to these, huh?” He threw the towel over his shoulders, peering down at his thigh.
I was looking with him, one step away from grabbing the supplies. “Can I do it?”
