Page 63 of Doubts of the Egoist
I wonder if Yugo would get rid of my things with such haste.A thought cleared the fog of his mind, reawakening the poisonous snakes of recent memories.Maybe he had alreadydone it to avoid causing Mio any distress.
He snorted with a hint of contempt.Isn’t it funny? He’s already moved on, but I’ve been struggling for years. Fucker… If that’s all it took, why did he even look for me? What did he expect? That playing with me would be as much fun as he remembered? Or that I’d warm his bed, no questions asked? He must be gravely disappointed then…
Kuon cringed, remembering Yugo’s plan to introduce him to his circle and his own response.
Didn’t I tell him this is exactly what I want? Then why am I so disappointed? I’ve always known Yugo only cares about himself. All he needs is a doll that plays by his rules, obeys him, and satisfies his desires. He doesn’t need anything he can’t control. Even that game, Simon Says, only confirmed that. I didn’t expect anything else, did I?
His eyes grew hot. The vanity sink blurred.
This is stupid… Why am I so upset? When did I hit my head and start wanting something more from him?Kuon grimaced, feeling like an idiot.Why did I even think it was a good idea to live with a man?But his inflamed mind had already shifted to a more pressing question.Can men even form an item? How can two natural rivals have a lasting, faithful relationship? How yielding do one have to be to make it work when I’m already a fucking pushover, and yet it didn’t? Maybe it’s impossible? What happens between men when the passion cools off, when there’s nothing left to hold the relationship together, no kids, no ties? Nothing, right?
Kuon wasn’t sure. He’d never talked to anyone about it, never bothered to research, thinking it pointless. Now, he wished he had.
Should I be happy with how it ended and that I was allowed to leave? It would have happened sooner or later, anyway. I didn’t expect it to last forever, did I? It’s good he burned out first. Otherwise it would have been a lot worse…
Kuon swallowed the coppery taste, losing his confidence. Even to himself, his thoughts didn’t sound convincing.
I wonder how much more I should have submitted to Yugo if it still wasn’t enough?
He wasn’t sure, but he realized, Yugo never made any concessions. He let Kuon win small, unimportant fights to appease him, but never truly gave in.
If I had submitted any more, what would have remained of me?Kuon recalled the footage of himself writhing under his abuser’s touch and shuddered.Maybe that’s what happened to Mio. He chased Yugo for so long that he no longer knows who he is without him. Is that why he fights so hard for his attention?
Kuon made a face, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.Why am I still thinking about it? It’s none of my business.
A hand on his shoulder pulled him away from the sink. As if fighting through the thick fog, Kuon turned around, removing his hands from under the stream.
“I called three times,” Rick said in an apologetic voice. Kuon blinked, staring into the worried face drained of color. The tiny muscles around Rick’s eyes tightened as his pupils blew.
To see what caused such a reaction, Kuon glanced in the mirror. The rims of his eyes were irritated, his short eyelashes clumped and glistening with moisture. His hands werepink from wrists down, with pruney skin on his fingers. Rick also examined him until their eyes inevitably met through the reflection.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine. I just washed my face, that’s all.”
“You have been in here for forty minutes. Yet, you are still dressed, and your eyes are red.”
“I spaced out. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately,” Kuon offered a half-truth, unable to think of a better excuse. Despite the doctor’s orders, he rubbed the back of his hand over his eye to wipe away any trace of weakness. The last thing he needed was for Rick to see him even more vulnerable than he already was. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Kuon licked his lips, then tugged at his hair, threading his fingers through it. He was too exhausted to keep up the façade. “Can we not do this right now? I’m tired, that’s all.”
Rick nodded, but his critical gaze traveled down Kuon’s body. He bit the inside of his cheek and his eyes glassed over; Kuon followed his gaze downward.
His jeans, a little too long for him, formed loose folds around his ankles. After the two-hour walk, the fabric was fraying where the hems grazed the ground. Dirt clung between his toes, and spruce needles stuck to his soles. His right big toe was cut and bleeding. He could hardly make out the wound, but the dark, nearly black color suggested it was clogged with mud.
Resolution etched into Rick’s features as he stepped closer and said, “It needs to be cleaned and disinfected…”
Kuon took a step back. Things he’d accepted during hisdisability now felt awkward. “I’ll manage.”
“You had forty minutes,” Rick countered as he reached back over his head and pulled off his T-shirt. “I’m not leaving you, so get in the shower before the infection sets in.”
With no energy left to argue, Kuon shucked off his clothes except for his boxers and stepped into the shower. He turned on the water and pressed his back against the cold wall. Lifting a foot, he rubbed dirt off with his fingers, face turned away from the water jets.
Rick didn’t look at him as he grabbed a clean hand towel and joined him in the walk-in shower.
“Rick, this is really unnecessary,” Kuon protested, watching water soak into Rick’s gray sweatpants, leaving darker patches.
“Let me or you’ll never finish.” A familiar scent of mandarins and lavender wafted in as Rick crouched, took his foot in his hands, and pressed the soaked towel to it. The touch stung. Rusty-red streaks spread across the white terry cloth as Rick carefully wiped away dirt and blood.
