43. “Antidote”The sun beat in unmercifully. Light seeped in through faded blue curtains I’d found ages ago while rooting through someone’s pile of “free” stuff they’d left on the curb. The humidity had started to rise with the sun and when I had rented this apartment I really hadn’t thought about air-conditioning.
Caught glimpses of the cosmetologist as I went in and out to get mail and shit like that. She sat in the hallway where there was just a bit of a breeze and continuously drizzled water into her tank top. It seeped through the ribs and made it look like she was lactating. I was sure that there was some ulterior motive, because some of the other guys in the building had taken to winding up on this floor “accidentally” and she’d offer them a drink to be hospitable and...well, the thumping didn’t stop for what seemed like hours. They’d leave with lipstick traces along the backs of their necks and trailing down into their tank-tops. She’d come out a while later with her cosmetology text-book and study in the hallway, waiting for her next friend.
I would have sat in the hallway too, but I didn’t really want company and I didn’t want to be mistaken for doing the same thing as she was. So I opened the windows, all two of them, and hoped that there was a breeze. Of course there wasn’t.
Jay just laid there and covered his eyes with his hand. He was extremely reluctant to get out of bed even on good days, so I wasn’t really surprised that he didn’t get out of bed now. Even though it was boiling out, he’d still pull the sheets over himself and curl into a ball whenever I came into the room. I often joined him. Sleep was the greatest therapist in the world. But even he knew that there was only so much time he could spend in bed before the world intruded and burst the bubble of enforced separation. So really late in the day he’d drag himself out of bed for an hour, pretend to be interested in the world outside the apartment, and then crawl back. He never slept during the day though, he just sort of stared at the ceiling and played around with his bandages. Sometimes I could prod him to get up and we’d do something like go to the store and buy clothes...or go off to a thrift shop, but it never seemed to hold his interest for long. The ceiling, with its ever re-arranging collection of wet patches, that could entertain him for hours. I never told him how much it made me worry. I mean, I tried once, but he just sort of looked at me for a few minutes and then slumped back into the pillows.
The heat made my wristband stick to my skin and a welt emerge. I didn’t particularly want to stop wearing my wristband, for reasons I didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t like it was hiding anything. I had never worn it to hide...only as a sort of brace to shore up my weakening resolve. I watched as the welt swelled and then burst, leaving a trail of blood.When I went into the bedroom to check on Jay, he seized my wrist and then looked up at me like I had caused the whole thing. It took me a second to realize that he thought that I had cut again.
“Jay, it’s just...from the heat and the leather. I didn’t cut it.” I explained, pleading with him to look at me and not my wrist. Refrained from mentioning that I knew I would never cut it because I only cut on my left arm, never the right. We had to trust in each other, even if the evidence was against us.
It took him a while, but he finally lowered his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry...” he began.
“Don’t be.” Put my head on his shoulder. “It’s okay to be concerned.” Pulled back a bit and put my wrist between us. “See...the heat makes a little rash and then when it gets warm enough it sort of just bleeds.” He paid attention, touching my hand gently. I would have gone through a lot more to assure him that I hadn’t broken down again. “How’s your wrist?” Changing the subject was sometimes a good idea.
He touched it gingerly. The adhesive didn’t work as well in the heat. I’d been trying to get him to go places that were air-conditioned so that it didn’t come all unraveled, but he wouldn’t listen to me. “It’s still there.” said quietly while he laid back down.
I sighed and resisted the urge to join him in sleep. “Do you want me to look at it or change anything? It looks like it’s peeling.” I offered. He hardly ever refused...he hated the smell that the gauze soaked up of wet and mold. His wrist was shoved at my face. I got up and changed his dressing. It looked like it was healing, but it was still not something pleasant to look at. He pushed his head back into the pillows and closed his eyes. We never spoke about it anymore, except when I asked him if he wanted it changed. Any reference to that night, that stage, that mis-begotten tour was totally forgotten. Well, maybe not by the rest of the world, but we tried not to resurrect it.
Slept lightly that night, hardly wearing anything at all. We still slept in the same bed, but nudity was still out of bounds. Or at least I didn’t feel comfortable with him in that way just yet. I wasn’t sure what he’d done on tour exactly, and with whom. Calling Ryan up to find out wasn’t an option.He was at the other side of the bed facing away from me. I imagined that I could see the tension encased in his spine, feel it radiating out from him. But that didn’t matter.
I was somewhere in between dreams and being fully awake when I felt wet on my stomach. My first thought was that the water had finally made it through the paneling and was dripping down on us, but as it lingered I realized it wasn’t. Opened my eyes to slits and saw Jay slowly licking his way up my stomach. Squeezed my eyes closed and tried to hide my near instant hard-on. It had been way too long. And he knew it.
I hissed in a breath as he made his way around my left nipple, then nipped at it gently. His skin was warm to the touch for once, almost like all the blood he’d lost had come back for one final romp. “A...are you sure?” I whispered. He looked up from my chest and smiled shyly.
“I’m sure.” He gently touched my cock through my boxers and stroked once. My eyes rolled shut, it had been way too long and I was almost ready to come right now. “Unless you aren’t.” His hand left.
“Why now?” hissed out through clenched teeth. I didn’t want a pity fuck...I had to make sure that his intentions were honest. Not that he’d have to do much to prove that.
“Why not now?” He still had the smile, it didn’t look particularly forced. I could see Jay faking something like that to fulfill a perceived need that I had. I would have done the same for him.
“You’re not just doing this because you think I want it, are you?” His eyes slid closed and his hand slipped into my boxers. Breath hitched as his fingers met my cock. When I met his eyes again he was straddling me and staring down at me intensely. He meant it. Moaned and raised my head so that I could seize his lips in a kiss. My hand went instantly to snag his head and pull him down further, let my fingers slide down his spine and slip beneath the waistband of his boxers.
He tasted of disease and smelled of adhesive and wet gauze. The smell might have put me off had I not gotten used to it. Absorbed myself in other things, like the way that he was pulling down my boxers, the texture of his tongue, his scars. Shuddered as they met mine, they were still raised a bit. I didn’t want or need the reminder that we weren’t whole. Not that it mattered much now anyway. Devoured his tongue, sucked him down into me. So hard already.
Naked, finally, just skin on skin. Flesh to scarred and bruised flesh. The florets of pain that were gradually turning into little spots of white, almost invisible except if you knew where to look. I licked at his gently, letting saliva encase the healing skin. He was looking in the little shelf thing right next to the bed and he finally came out with some lube. “Why do we even bother getting flavored?” he whispered.
“That was just the first one I grabbed...now hurry up.” panted hard, he was stroking me at the same time. Tried to pull him back, but he was opening the bottle and smearing lube on his fingers. The smell of artificial flavoring hit my nostrils and assaulted my sinuses. I wondered why things never smelled the way they were supposed to. Those thoughts were pushed away by lube, fingers pushing on my prostate, massaging it, oh fuck... Head snapped back and I thrashed a bit, oh fuck it felt so good. I’d missed this so much, missed him.
Snatched his head, desperately made out with him while he stretched me. I just wanted him, not the stress, not the uncertainties, not the feeling that everything was going to hell in a rush of blood, not the necessity to lock up everything that was sharp. He entered me gently, it felt so good, let my legs drift up and surround him, clutching him to me as he thrusted. For a moment my eyes opened to slits and I could see his face above mine, perfect, almost free of stress. It seemed like such a rare sight. I tried to savor it, but at that moment orgasm took over and everything spun into oblivion.
Laid there next to him for a while, unsure of what to say, what to do. Finally just grabbed him and hugged him desperately, searching for a shared experience, a shared existence. He hugged back, as if gravity had stopped existing and I was going to float away.
When I woke up the next morning it was unbearably hot and it seemed like the sheets were coated with a film of sweat. As I flopped over to a more comfortable position I noticed that Jay wasn’t in bed and that his bandage was. It laid in the midst of the sea of black, the adhesive had given out and it was slowly unwinding itself. The gauze sat there and deflated. And Jay was nowhere to be seen.