Page 33 of Revive
“Great,” Spook huffed. “I really didn’t want her seeing me like this. I don’t want her thinking it’s her fault that I’m…”
“Struggling. I think she understands that. Don’t go looking for excuses to feel shit.”
“More shit, you mean. I already feel shit.”
“Shit’s a valid emotion.”
That got a wry huff out of him.
“It beats wallowing in the void.”
Spook remained quiet a moment, before saying, “I suppose.”
After a few more minutes, Xane flopped onto his back. It only took about thirty seconds for Spook to roll over and nestle into the crook of his shoulder. Xane kissed the top of his blond head. “Get you anything?”
“No.”
“Want me to stay or go?”
Spook answered with silence.
“That’s a very loud yes. You can say it, you know.”
“I don’t like stealing your time like this, it just makes me feel shitty.”
“I believe we just covered that. Besides, a day spent in bed with you is always a treat.”
“Don’t make light of it.”
“I’m not. I’m serious. I don’t have to be here, Spook. I chose to be here. I’m still choosing to be here. We can lie here as long as you want. Cuddle. Talk. Stare at the ceiling. When you’ve had enough of me, just tell me and I’ll naff off, and I won’t leave seething or irritated. “You’re my friend, and I love you. I wish I could tell you it’s all going to be okay, but I’m not psychic. Happens that I think it will be, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t going to be dark days. I’ve just realised this is the first one you’ve had since Alle arrived. Something about her is obviously keeping you afloat.”
“I don’t want to talk about Alle. Can you just shut up and hold me?”
“Got it.” he replied and dropped another kiss on the crown of Spook’s head.
When Xane woke for the second time—dark rooms and endless stillness seemed to switch him off like a light—it was to the sensation of circles being drawn on his abs. Round and round in endless loops, no start or end points.
“Your stomach’s been growling like you swallowed a grizzly bear,” Spook informed him.
“I don’t suppose there’s anything to eat in this place.”
“Bread and cheese downstairs, if you want it.”
“That okay?”
Xane satisfied his hunger and exchanged a couple of texts with Luthor before going back upstairs. This time, he shed his shirt before climbing back into bed. Spook settled back into the crook of his arm. Minutes and hours spent like this had worn away the barriers between them, made language redundant to understanding. Forty minutes to an hour in—time was elastic in the dark—Spook’s attention strayed to Xane’s nipple rings, then on to making circles again, before plucking at the fastenings of Xane’s jeans.
“This, okay?” Spook asked, as he traced the lines of him through the fabric.
“Depends why you’re doing it.”
“I want to suck you.”
“I’m not sure I have it in me to fight you over that, but for the record, I know what you’re doing, and it doesn’t work. At best, it’s a fleeting moment of satisfaction, and then you’re right back where you were, steeped in self-loathing and anxiety, only with the addition of guilt.”
“Shut up, Xane.” He obligingly did precisely that.
Spook’s hand didn’t move from Xane’s fly. After a moment, he said, “Either tell me you’re okay with this or fuck off so that I can find a different release.”
