Page 50 of Touch In Excess

Rami shuddered, then kissed him again before picking up his hands and kissing his palms. “Your language is beautiful here.”

Skye’s cheeks and ears went red. He looked for a moment like he wanted to argue, but then he reached up and plucked his hearing aids out of his ears. ‘Thank you,’ he signed.

Rami nodded, then tugged him into the bathroom for what he hoped would be the best shower of his life.

“Can I ask about your family?” Skye said when they were back in bed. Rami had set up a tea tray and a couple of towels to protect the sheet from crumbs, and they were finishing off the man’oushe and labneh, and he liked that Skye didn’t like the lemons because they were his favorite, and he hated sharing.

There were only a few Arab grocery stores within a reasonable distance, so Rami tended to hoard what he couldn’t make on his own.

He nibbled on some of the rind as he nodded. ‘Anything,’ he signed, though Skye had put his hearing aids back in.

Skye’s brows furrowed like he was considering his words. He peeled off a strip of bread and dipped it into the yogurt and olive oil. Rami felt something like peace in his chest when he realized Skye hadn’t been lying about liking his food.

Rami had only brought a few friends home over the course of his life, and all of them had acted like he was serving them alien cuisine. One friend—the one his mother had personally kicked out—had taken a single bite of dolma and actually spit it on the table before yelling at Rami for serving him something “so disgusting.”

Rami had been mortified at both his friend and his mother and had refused to go to school for a week. He was convinced that Andrew was going to tell everyone what happened and the whole school was going to hate him.

He was also convinced that his mother was going to refuse to let him bring anyone else to his house after that.

Neither of those things had been true, but the trauma of that fear had stuck with him.

“So, you don’t speak with your parents?—”

“Wait. I speak with my parents,” Rami said with a frown. He didn’t mean to interrupt, but he couldn’t help it. “Did I say I didn’t?”

“You said you were the family disappointment.”

Rami snorted and set his half-uneaten lemon down and reached for his water. “Everyone who didn’t become a doctor or a lawyer is the family disappointment.” His fingers began to tingle, so he gave in to his urge to stim. He tapped each one to his thumb, then wiggled them in the air, watching them dance. “It’s a stereotype, but it’s accurate in my family. In a lot of families. My sister is a psychiatrist. They didn’t love that at first, but she got her MD, so they were happy. And my brother got his doctoral in audiology. My grandfather was a lawyer, but he retired when he moved here, and my mom blamed him for me wanting to be an artist. But she knows it’s just…” He paused and tapped his temple.

Skye reached over the tea tray and brushed a curl away from his ear. “But this is a very good mind.”

Rami bit his lip and shrugged. “I know. And they think so too, even if they still wish I did something different with my life. I love my parents. They’re very good to me, and I think I’m making them really sad by not speaking to them right now.”

“Is it because of your channel?”

Rami looked up, feeling a sense of panic in his chest. “Yes. They can never find out. I can’t…it would…” He hummed in distress.

Skye quickly moved the tray from between them and shifted over so he could curl around Rami. “Hey. They’re not going to find out. You’re careful, right? And it’s not very likely your brother or sister watch FanCore, is it?”

“No,” Rami whispered, then shook his head so Skye would understand. He cleared his throat and felt himself relax. “Sorry. No. They don’t even know I have a tattoo. You’re the only one.”

Skye smiled and touched his jaw. “I like that being our secret.”

Rami nodded and took a few more deep breaths. “My parents wanted us all to be successful because they love us. My mom and dad were afraid me being Autistic would make my life hard. And being gay would make it harder. Being an artist…life would be broke if I wasn’t careful. And they weren’t wrong.”

Skye nodded, brushing a touch up and down his arm. “I have the typical American stereotype family. Roof over my head, food on the table, a car at sixteen, and an eviction notice the moment I graduated high school. If I ever needed money, my parents would send it, but they don’t call to ask me how I am. They don’t invite me over for Christmas. I haven’t seen them in years, and I think it’s just because they’re so busy with their own lives after kids they forgot to remember me.”

Rami felt his whole body jolt. He’d heard about that happening, but he couldn’t imagine that being real. How did someone just throw their kid out at eighteen? Their brains weren’t even fully formed. They were children.

And how did they never call? Not evenonce?

“Do they not love you?”

Skye sighed and shrugged. “They do. As best they can, I suppose. We don’t talk, and I like it that way. I have my own family now at the Tower. I have unconditional love I didn’t get growing up.”

“The Sins,” Rami said.

Skye nodded and wrapped his arms tighter around Rami. It was obvious he carried pain from that, even as he tried to say it didn’t matter, so Rami hugged him back. He felt an ache inside that Skye hadn’t known the kind of love he felt growing up. He hadn’t realized saying he was the family disappointment to Skye meant something wholly and completely different.

---