Page 2 of Last Resort

“Those are pretty cool.” Erik looked up. “Where do you want to put them?”

Erik had been generous welcoming Ben into the apartment, but Ben didn’t want to overstep. “Let’s unpack stuff and then decide. I’ve lived without these things for quite a while, so this might be a good time to purge.” Some of the boxes hadn’t been opened since his move from Newark, taken from the back room of his rental unit to the storage room at the store.

“If something’s important to you, we’ll figure out how to display it,” Erik told him. “This is your home now.”

Ben felt grateful for Erik’s repeated assurances, but old insecurities were difficult to put to rest. He enjoyed seeing the action figures again as he handled them, but had already started thinking of which to keep and which to sell now that he realized some had lost their appeal.

The next two boxes held graphic novels, and Ben knew he wanted to look those over more closely. A third box held tabletop role-playing games that he used to enjoy with a group of friends in Newark but hadn’t thought about since his move.

“I’m willing to learn how to play those if you’ll teach me.” Erik glanced up from the box of paperback books he had opened.

Ben smiled. “That could be fun, something to do when Sean and his friends are in town.” His cousin had been Ben’s first gaming partner. “Some of these were better than others. I think I can cull a few. Same with those paperbacks.” Ben nodded toward the books Erik stacked nearby. “I’m not going to re-read a bunch of those, shouldn’t have packed them all.”

“Whatever you’re worrying about, stop it,” Erik said as he cut the packing tape to flatten a box.

“Who says I’m worrying?”

“The little squinch between your eyebrows.” Erik gave him the side eye.

At thirty-five and five-foot-ten, Erik was two years older and three inches shorter than Ben, blond and blue-eyed compared to Ben’s dark hair and green eyes. Erik’s hair fell in a natural wave, while Ben preferred a shorter fade. Together, they seemed to prove that opposites attract.

“I just don’t want to take up too much space,” Ben admitted. “I love the idea of living together. But now that we’re trying to find a place for everything, I’m afraid it’ll seem like I’m taking over.”

“Was that why you hid your statues in the office at first and didn’t put anything in the living room or our bedroom?” Erik raised an eyebrow.

Busted, Ben thought. “Everything looked very pulled together in those rooms. My stuff didn’t match.”

Erik’s background in art and art history, plus his time working for museums, gave him eclectic taste reflected in his choice of prints of famous paintings that spanned from the Renaissance to present day. While Erik shared Ben’s love for pop culture and had never disparaged Ben’s choice of décor, Ben couldn’t help feeling like his taste lacked sophistication.

“Like I said when you moved in—who says anything has to match?” Erik challenged gently. “Our stuff is a reflection of us, and we fit together just fine.”

“Mine isn’t as classy,” Ben admitted.

“You do realize that ‘classical’ artwork was the pop culture of its time, right?” Erik leaned against the couch. “People just think it’s snooty because it’s old. And what pop culture lacks in pretention it makes up for in passion. But most of all, it’s something that you love, and I love you. There’s no need to hide anything. Our home should reflect who webothare.”

It had taken some convincing, but Ben and Erik had worked together to mesh their favorite things, and now Ben loved the mix of décor that was uniquely them, blending Batman with Basquiat.

Erik set one box aside and started to open another. “I knew what I was asking when I brought up moving in together. We’ll figure it out. I didn’t like saying goodnight and watching you drive away.”

That had happened less and less often the longer we dated, Ben thought. Still, having him give up his rental to move in was a different level of commitment—and risk—than staying overnight, knowing there was somewhere to go back to in the morning.

“I didn’t like that part either,” Ben confessed. “And I know things will sort themselves out. I want this. I want you. I’m still just a little out of my comfort zone.”

Erik opened the next box and then paused with a troubled expression. “Um, maybe you’d better do this one. I’m picking up a strong resonance from some of the pieces.” Erik’s ability as a psychometric meant he could read the history and emotional resonance of objects by touching them. That wasn’t usually an issue with everyday items, but sentimental possessions often packed a wallop.

“Let me see,” Ben said, and Erik slid the box to him. One look brought back memories. Old photos of him and his now-estranged mom, stepdad, and half-brothers. A few pictures with former boyfriends or friends he had lost touch with. Commendations from the police department in Newark before he was betrayed by someone on the force. An emotional minefield of things he didn’t want to remember and couldn’t bear to get rid of.

“You okay?” Erik asked after Ben sorted through the box in silence. “I didn’t get happy vibes from whatever’s in there.”

Ben tried to shake off the memories. “Yeah, I’m fine. This is actually good—I should have gone through this stuff long ago.”

“Time helps make decisions.” Erik picked a box with more paperbacks. “What’s hard to deal with at one point turns out not to be a big deal when you come back later.”

It took less time than Ben expected to find a place for his belongings. He’d always prided himself on “traveling light,” but confronted with the evidence, Ben wondered if he hadn’t kept himself a little too ready to move on.

Not anymore. Maybe someday we’ll outgrow this apartment and get a house we don’t have to share with the shop, but I’m not going anywhere without Erik.

By the end of the afternoon, they had found shelf space for the books and knickknacks Ben wanted to keep and re-filled several boxes with items he no longer wanted. He glanced at his phone and was surprised to see it was already time for dinner.