Page 42 of Salvaged Heart
He just shook his head as if saying no. I could understand that, so I wouldn’t push, but to my surprise, he spoke, the words coming out hesitant and shy. “He was my whole world, and when he was gone…I thought about killing myself so many timesand tried a few times, too. Every year that's passed since then feels like a mockery. Jonah was so full of life, Beck, and he died. I’ve now spent more years than I knew him wanting to die, and yet I’m still here.”
I brought my hand to his, expecting him to pull back like he had been doing all week, but he took it, letting our fingers slide together. I had only known Anders briefly, but the idea of him not being in my life was a thought I couldn’t stomach.
“He would want you to live.”
“I know.” He held the coin up between us. “I’m going to keep getting these for him. One for every year I got to live, and he didn’t. Every year, I wasted. Maybe I will be strong enough to get them for myself by that point instead.” He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze.
“Can I hold you?” He stood from his chair slowly, moving to mine. It wasn’t big enough for us to sit side by side, so he ended up half in my lap, slotting between my right side and the chair’s arm, his head on my shoulder. I cradled him close, inhaling his scent. Citrus and cigarette smoke. It was a combination that should have been disgusting, but on him, it smelt like…home.
I nuzzled my nose into the side of his face. His hair was beginning to get long. The sides that were shaved short when we met now curled into soft ringlets, the mop on top, long enough to braid. I ran my finger through them, eyes closed, allowing the heat from his body to recharge me. I only now realized how draining the last few days had been, how much worrying about him had taken from me. Now he was pressed against me again, I finally felt like I could breathe.
“You can tell me anything, Anders. I promise I'll listen. I promise I won’t judge you for it.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Well, I do enjoy kicking puppies for fun. Hope you won’t judge me for that.”
I pretended to think about it for a second and scrunched my nose theatrically. “I’m sure it’s just the mean, ugly ones, right?”
The smile I felt against my chest lit me up inside. I wanted to make him smile every minute of every day. Wanted to keep him safe and warm and healthy. Wanted to make him happy and whole. Who was I kidding, saying I didn’t know what I wanted Anders to mean to me? At this moment, with him pressed up against me, the answer was glaringly obvious. I wanted him to mean everything to me, and I hoped I could mean everything to him one day, too.
There was still one thing burning me up inside, however, and it probably wasn’t the best time to push him on it, but my mouth was opening, spewing the words before my brain could intercede. “Now we’ve got theyou can tell me anything spielout of the way, I do have something to ask you.”
He let out a noise that was half groan, half oh-oh.
“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.” I took the slight nod against my chest as permission to continue. “Why won’t you let me touch you?”
“We’re touching right now, silly.”
“That’s not what I mean.” I pushed some of the curls away from his face, tilting his chin slightly where it lay on my pecs so I could look him in the eyes. “The night at the bar, when I reached for you, you said you’d already finished.”
“That was true. I was an uncomfortable, sticky mess the entire night. Have you ever tried riding a motorbike with cum coating the inside of your boxers?”
He was deflecting. “The other day in the kitchen, you were as into it as I was, but you pulled away again when I tried to unzip your jeans. You basically ran from the room.”
The seconds passed like minutes, cogs turning in his brain. I wouldn’t push him, I'd meant that, but I felt his need to tell mewas soured by his fear of how I might react. I kissed the top of his head in reassurance.
“Anything.” I reminded him.
He took another moment to gather himself, then said in a whisper that wouldn’t have been audible if we hadn’t already been inches apart. “Sex is difficult for me.”
Difficult?
I’d gotten the impression that Anders was pretty experienced. Still, now thinking back to all our conversations and interactions, I realized he'd never actually said anything for me to interpret that way. Well, except for when he’d jerked me off in the alleyway behind the bar. Nothing about that moment had seemed hesitant or like he didn’t know exactly what he was doing. He was confident and worked me over better than I could ever have done myself. But that didn’t mean he was experienced or even liked sex.
“Well, it’s not like I have any experience either… with men, I mean. We can take things as slow and as far as you’re comfortable with, and then…”
“No, you misunderstood me.”
Okay, then, maybe he couldn’t have sex. I didn’t know how drugs affected certain things, but… well, no, that couldn’t be true either. I had felt how hard he was against me on both occasions, and there were several mornings I’d woken to him curled up next to me with his erection digging into my thigh.
“The opposite, I guess. I’ve been with a lot of men, but… it wasn’t always safe or consensual.”
“Wait, what?”
Misinterpreting my outburst, he pulled away, trying to jump out of my reach. I tugged him back to the chair but allowed him as much space as a one-seater could afford.
“Well, I’m sure I said yes in the moment. But I woke up so many times, with no idea where I was, with people I had no recollection of meeting after a complete bender…”
“Anders, that’s not consent.”
