Feelings

Feelings VII.

VII. Going inside

Neither of us spoke during the drive, but the silence was not uncomfortable. At last we were able to be together in the same space and not balk at each other, and I was thoroughly enjoying it. I occasionally glanced over at him, taking in his shiny hair and pensive eyes. But I was mostly lost in thought. I thought about the recent events, and the way they had changed me. And then Tommy had come along to unknowingly fill the void the death of my parents had created. Even if he never loved me back, I'd be forever grateful towards him. In a way, he had probably saved me from myself.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, jolting me back to reality.

"Uhm.. No reason," I replied, looking over at him. His gaze drew me in and I had to consciously tear my eyes away and back to the road.

"You look different when you smile," he commented.

I do?

"How's that?" I asked, trying to focus on the road.

He paused before answering.

"You just seem so serious and stony, most of the time. But you turn into a completely different person when you smile."

I blushed slightly and hoped he didn't notice.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good. You almost look friendly," he answered. I couldn't decide whether he was joking or not.

"If you say so..." I replied lamely.

He shook his head with a grin.

"So you and Jason are buddies?" he asked.

"Uh-huh" I answered absently, still absorbing his comments.

"Good friends?"

"Yeah, best friends," I told him, wondering about his curiosity.

"Funny, you two seem very different," he observed.

"I guess maybe we are. But we were brought up together, our parents used to... I mean... get along very well, so we shared everything. We're practically brothers..." I answered. I looked over at him again and noticed his face had gone very pale.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yes," he said shortly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. My ankle hurts is all."

"Oh. Okay." I answered.

I drove us home in silence

"Want a drink?" I asked as Tommy took a seat in my kitchen.

"Sure, if you're having one," he seemed shy as I opened the fridge.

"Apple juice?" I offered.

"Sounds good." I poured the juice and placed the glasses on the table before taking a seat in front of him.

"So when do your parents get in?" he asked after gulping the juice. Cringing, I stood up and served him some more, carefully avoiding his eyes.

"They're away" I said tautly.

"Oh. Business?"

"Not really," I said evasively, debating whether to tell him or not.

"Okay," he said, giving me space, and I decided it could wait. We sipped in silence for a while

"Jeremy?" Tommy said abruptly.

"Yeah," I said.

"I just wanted to say thanks for sticking up for me during lunch today. It really meant a lot to me, even though I know I seemed ungrateful, " he said, not meeting my eyes.

I smiled a real smile.

"You're welcome Tommy," I said. "I'm just sorry Kimmy did that to you."

He said nothing.

"Want to tell me about it?" I asked carefully.

He sighed.

"Maybe I will... Not right now though..."

"Okay," I said, not willing to push it. I didn't want to badger him.

"Also...." He paused for a moment and fixed his eyes on mine. "I'm sorry I behaved like a jerk recently. You're the only person who's been nice to me since I arrived, and you deserved a lot better. I know I'm a complicated guy, but that's no excuse. I'm just hoping that I haven't screwed up too badly and that you're willing to give me a second chance." He looked at me expectantly.

I thought before answering, trying to choose the right words.

"Tommy, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm no happy camper myself, and many people don't like me. But deep down I know I'm an okay guy, not perfect or anything, but okay. And I'm just sorry I didn't show you that side of me. Maybe things would have been easier for both of us then."

He interrupted:

"You don't have to tell me you're a nice guy. I already know that."

"How?" I asked, curious.

"I just do," he replied. I sighed.

"I'm sorry Tommy, I really am."

"Hell, I'll forgive you if you forgive me," he smiled.

"I do," I said sincerely, really meaning it. He laughed and moved his hand across the table. I reached out, expecting a mock handshake, but was surprised when he took my hand in his and squeezed it lightly before releasing it. I felt tingly and warm, and maybe it was contagious.

"I won't give up on you just yet," he said.

Neither will I, I thought.

I reached across the table for a small beat up radio which held memories of my mother whistling to random tunes as she cooked breakfast in the morning.

"Do you mind if I get some music going?" I asked, trying to slow down my breathing.

"Nah, go ahead," he said.

I turned it on and searched through the stations, finally deciding on a mellow song that sounded familiar.

"You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged, Oh I realize it's hard to take courage. In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all, And the darkness inside you makes you feel so small."

I listened to the lyrics thoughtfully, feeling them cut into my senses. One of the most special things in life, I think, is finding a song that you can relate to and making it a part of you. You might forget it temporarily, but it'll play again when you least expect it and bring back a part of your life. I regretted turning the radio on; I imagined having a life in a few years time that didn't include him , bumping into this song and becoming undone by it. I doubted I'd ever forget this moment.

"I love this song," he said quietly. I just nodded.

"Show me a smile then, don't be unhappy, Can't remember when I last saw you laughing. If this world makes you crazy, and you've taken all you can bear, You call me up because you know I'll be there.

I see your true colors and that's why I love you. So don't be afraid to let them show. Your true colors, true colors, True colors are beautiful like a rainbow."

I met his eyes and wished he understood.

The hot spell had set in once again, and giving way to winter did not appear to be in its agenda. Tommy and I had been lounging around the living room for a while, watching a "Friends" rerun on cable. Actually, let me correct that last statement: HE was watching a Friends rerun, and I was watching him. I honestly couldn't take my eyes off his incredible face, no matter how hard I tried. His laughter seemed to fill my heart with happiness, and this was something I had never experienced before; of course I'd heard corny lines such as "your joy is my joy" and such, but I'd always dismissed them as nonsensical chatter. At that moment, though, I truly understood their meaning as I forgot about my own pains and shared his smiles. I laughed out loud.

"What's so funny," he asked, looking at me.

"Huh?" I asked, confused. I focused on the television and realized that a commercial was on. I just shook my head.

"Hey, why don't we go down to the beach?" he proposed after a while. " This episode is a century old."

"The beach?" I asked incredulously. "Now?"

"Yeah, why not," he said. "You promised the last time I was here." I cringed at the memory of his last visit.

"But you're ankle is swollen," I pointed out. "Prolly not a good idea."

"I just want to get out of here for a bit," he said, pouting. . How could anyone resist.

"Okay, if you really want to..." I gave in.

"I do," he laughed. "Unless you want to finish watching the show first. Seems to me you were pretty involved with it."

I blushed, and he laughed again.

"I think someone here has the hots for Jennifer Aniston," he teased. I frowned and looked away. How could he say that? I knew it was meaningless talk, but I could already see where this friendship was heading. Loving him in silence would be torture.

"Anything wrong?" Tommy asked, sounding concerned. I turned to him, forcing a tight smile.

"I'm not exactly into Jennifer Aniston, you've got it all wrong" I said, watching his expression change. I shifted slightly. "It's Courtney Cox," I whispered impishly as I stood up and helped him to his feet.

"Oh, I get it, so you're into petite brunettes," he decided as he followed me to the kitchen. "Don't you like tall blonds?"

I opened the back door and sighed almost inaudibly, glancing at him.

"It depends," I said grimly.

I hadn't realized it was so late until we stepped outside. The sun hovered in that weird position where it seems to consider whether it should hang out for a few more minutes or just haul ass and allow nighttime to set in. I found myself wishing it would hold on right where it was for a while longer, as I didn't want this day to end. In the past I hadn't mourned the passage of days; I had craved it even, as a part of me hoped that the rapid succession of present into past would somehow lead me to a happier future. But right at that moment, I didn't want a single second to die, mostly because I knew this day would be etched in my memory forever. It was the first time in my life I really felt I was living the moment, and tonight I wouldn't have to search for Tommy in my dreams. And that made me happy.

"Uhm, it's kinda late, don't you think? Maybe we could put this off for another day?" I said.

"Are you kiddin?" Tommy exclaimed. "I love sunsets."

"How come?" I asked.

"They give me hope," he stated, and didn't elaborate. He didn't need to, I understood perfectly.

The path leading to the beach was pretty steep, so I had to help Tommy along the way. Not that I was complaining. He hadn't showered after gym class, and I had never realized that the scent of sweat could be so sweet. His arm draped around my shoulders, he suddenly asked me to stop walking.

"Look at that," he whispered. I did.

The usually stormy sea was glitter, lapping the shores tamely and melting into the sand. The sun reluctantly hovered of the waters, pouring a deep golden trench that seemed to scar the sea. It glowed hazily as the air condensed over the waves, beginning as a coagulated drop of yellow that churned a wild swirl of colors across the cloudless sky. The land behind us thickened in darkness.

"It's...." I started. No words could describe it. We stared in silence. For a moment only the two of us existed.

"The sky is all color, man, there's not a hint of blue in it" Tommy said.

You're right, I thought, all the blue in the world is in your eyes.

"Let's get down there before the sun sets," I said instead. He nodded.

The sand trickled warmly between our toes as we finally hit the beach. The air was still pretty balmy.

"Hey, help me out with this, would ya" Tommy said as he tried to strip off his tee shirt. Huh?

"What are you doing?" I asked dubiously as he struggled with his top.

"I want to take a dip," he said. " But I don't want to get my shirt wet," he added informatively.

I hesitated for one second before wrapping an arm around his waist to help him stand. As the white cotton glided over his upper body, my palms struck his warm skin. It felt soft and tender as his flat stomach pressed against my hand with each of his breaths. My fingers struck a hint of fuzziness around his navel, and I had to fight to control my breathing. My hand rested on his body for maybe a second too long.

"Thanks," he said; I managed a nod.

"You coming?" he asked.

I tried to act nonchalant as I removed my own shirt. My body isn't too bad, especially considering my now non-existent workouts, and I've been blessed with a naturally slim disposition. However, none of these facts gave me confidence as I bared my upper body. I looked at him through the corners of my eyes, and was both relieved and disappointed to see him staring out at the ocean.

" What the hell were you expecting? Were you actually hoping to find him checking you out? Puh-leaze!" a sarcastic voice mocked me silently. I narrowed my eyes, determined not to mess up again.

"Are we gonna do this or not?" Tommy interrupted my thoughts with a big smile.

"Sure, if you're up to it," I replied, trying to sound offhanded.

He just laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder again.

"Take him to sea, Captain," he said.

"Okay, okay," I chuckled, and for a moment my attraction towards him ceased as I understood that, above all, he was my friend.

The water was colder than I expected; Tommy had better be thankful for small favors, as I'd only risk pneumonia for him.

"Oh man, it's freezing" Tommy cried, as if I needed his reports to realize. His hand gripped my shoulder tightly as we braved the waves, heading further into the surf.

"Gawd, I know. Maybe this isn't such a hot idea after all," I said, hoping he'd call it off.

That wasn't in his plans, however. He suddenly wrapped both arms around me and dove into the waves, dragging me along. The shock of cold water seemed to stop my heart for a few seconds, but his submarine embrace quickly warmed me up again. Soon enough, though, I felt his arms slip away from me as we surfaced.

"You asshole!" I spluttered as we broke out into the surface, choking and gasping. "You trying to drown me?"

"Hey, they say that it gets better after the first dive," he defended himself; I hunted for double meanings once again.

"Yeah, you should know about that," I muttered as I tried to be angry, but I knew that my face betrayed me. "How's the foot?" I asked, surprised to realize just how much his answer mattered to me; I wasn't asking to be polite: I really cared.

"Happy as a clam," he answered, and I groaned at his lame joke. He playfully slapped his hand across the water, spraying my face.

"Hey, stop that!" I protested weakly as he did it again. Salty water stung my eyes as small waves lifted my body effortlessly.

"Make me," he taunted, smiling impishly.

Gladly, I thought.

"Nah, not today," I said loosely. He just shook his head with a smile.

At that very moment an unusually big wave rolled towards us; the crest curled menacingly for a few seconds before crashing down on us.

I choked, feeling my lungs strain with effort as I held my breath. The current tossed me around underwater for a few moments before suddenly subsiding. I surfaced, coughing salty water out of my burning throat. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, blinking rapidly.

I heard Tommy spluttering behind me, so I turned to him.

"Some ride," he said wryly.

"I hate when that happens," I complained. "My ears are full of sand and my eyes sting."

He suddenly burst out laughing.

"You're such a grouch!" he exclaimed. I blushed deeply, knowing he was right. Still, I wasn't going to admit it.

"Am not!" I defended myself.

"Oh yes you are," he told me. "Whiny too. Bitchy even." I tried to hide my smile. Had anyone else said something like this to me, there would have probably been heads rolling by now, but this was Tommy. I just found it cute.

"At least I'm not a slutty blond," I barked, then immediately wished I could take it back. I hadn't meant to reference his escapade with Kimmy. I both loved and hated the way I just whipped out whatever came to mind when I was around him; I would normally think three times before talking, always processing the consequences.

This shut him up, and he blushed slightly. I kicked myself for creating yet another uncomfortably moment.

"Maybe we should go home," I suggested awkwardly. "I'm getting kinda cold."

"Yeah," he said. I began wading back to the shore.

"Not so fast though," I heard him say.

"Huh?" Before I knew it, I was underwater again as Tommy tackled me.

He somehow managed to pin me to the sandy ocean floor, pressing down on my shoulders. I looked up at him, and I could see his face perfectly despite the water. His hair floated around his head, looking like an angel's halo, and his lips curled into a smile. He held me down for a second before releasing me. It was a surrealistic moment.

"What was that for?" I demanded, gasping for breath.

"Just wanted to show you who's the boss around here is all," he said smirked.

"Yeah, right," I laughed.

"Got a problem with that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Actually, I don't.

"You bet your ass I do," I said as I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him under. We horsed around for a few more minutes before heading back to the shore.

Afterwards, we relaxed. Seven o'clock rolled by, and Tommy showed no signs of leaving -- I wasn't complaining.

"Are you staying for dinner?" I asked him as we entered my bedroom.

"Sure, if you want me to," he said. It felt like he was testing me somehow.

"Yeah, that would be okay by me," I replied, sounding neither reluctant nor eager as I reached for a pack of cigarettes sitting on my desk; I took a cigarette and tossed the pack towards him. He caught it with one hand.

"Thanks," he said as I offered my lighter. He puffed smoke, wrinkling his nose slightly, before stretching out on my bed. I sat on the edge of the mattress, feeling very restless. We didn't speak for a while, but the silence felt good. I wondered about his thoughts.

"So what are you thinking," he asked, propping his head up with his hand. I raised my eyebrows, surprised, but I didn't tell him.

"Dunno, just... stuff," I said, letting the phrase hang.

"You think a lot huh," he said. I didn't know what to say, as a lot of people seem to believe that "thinking" is not an asset. Then again, I didn't want to sound shallow either. I finally decided to just be myself.

"Yeah, I do," I said sincerely, almost defiantly.

"I can tell. I'm the same way I guess, but I don't know if it's a good thing."

"Why?" I was very curious. He sighed.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not really living reality, like I'm trapped inside my own self. It's hard to explain," he whispered, almost talking to himself. He took a deep drag from the cigarette.

"I..." I hesitated. "I know how you feel, I guess. God knows I do." I could feel my throat contracting, so I stopped talking.

"Yeah," he said, staring at the floor intently.

"Thank you," I blurted suddenly. He peered at me through dark eyelashes.

"What for?"

"Just... Thank you," I said sadly. He smiled, burying his head deep into the pillow.

"Mind if I grab a quick shower?" he asked after a while. "I didn't get one after gym, and I'm covered with salt and sand and grime and goddamn chocolate."

"Sure, you can use my bathroom," I said. "I'll take one too, after you've finished" although I longed to join him under the water again.

"Okay, cool." He got up and stretched lazily, then headed for the bathroom, limping slightly.

"Towels inside the cupboard," I called as he closed the door.

"'Kay," he called back.

I stretched out where he had lain, resting my head on the pillow. His body had warmed up the sheets, and the pillow still carried his scent. I closed my eyes, and my heartbeat slowed down to the rhythm of the running water.

"You can borrow clothes if you like," I said when he emerged from the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and smelling of soap. "Just take anything you like."

"Thanks," he said as he dried his shoulders. I tried not to stare too much at his lower body, which was wrapped up with a white towel. He had a small black mole on his right shoulder that looked very sexy.

"Oh, and order a pizza or something, would ya? There are a few phone numbers on the fridge downstairs," I added as I walked into the bathroom.

"Okay, I think I can do that," he said with a nice smile.

Tommy wasn't sloppy: the bathroom looked spotless, and there were no messy puddles on the white floor tiles. His dirty clothes were neatly folded, sitting on the long counter. There were no hairs in the tub.

I peeled my clothes off and dumped them in the hamper; the air was thick with steam by the time I'd brushed my teeth and cleaned my nails. I enjoyed the hot water hammering my back as I closed my eyes, sighing in deep pleasure. I shampooed my hair and soaped up slowly and thoroughly, using a wet hand towel to scrub my face, thinking about him using my own shower just a few minutes before. I sighed.

He wasn't in the room as I walked out of the bathroom, a yellow towel hugging my waist.

After drying off, I slipped into blue jogging shorts; the white tee shirt I chose was soft and clean. I rolled some deodorant on, and tousled my hair messily because sometimes I like the slightly undone look.

A sharp scent invaded my nostrils as I walked downstairs, so I supposed the food had arrived. Maybe my shower had taken longer than I had realized.

"Food here?" I called as I walked towards the kitchen. I stood still and gaped as I entered the room.

Tommy was standing by the kitchen counter, feverishly grating cheese. Tomato sauce bubbled inside a pan, and a heavy pot steamed on the electric range. The man could cook. I melted.

"So what's this about," I finally said.

"Oh, hi. Shower good?" Tommy looked over at me. "I thought you'd drowned in there."

"Never mind that, what are you doing," I said. Duh.

"Cooking," he said matter-of-factly.

"Wow, when I asked you to get the food I didn't mean you had to cook it," I laughed.

"I just figured it was the least I could do, seeing that you've been putting up with me all afternoon," Tommy said adorably.

"You never mentioned you could cook," I said, still amazed. He blushed.

"My ole man usually works late during the week, so I usually wind up eating alone every evening. And you can eat pizza so many times before you start growing cheese and olives in your ears, so I just kinda taught myself to cook. It's no big deal," he shrugged.

"Well, I still think it's pretty incredible. I just wonder what other hidden talents you have," I laughed. He blushed even deeper, until his face matched the color of the simmering sauce.

"I just hope you like it," he muttered bashfully.

"I'm pretty sure I will," I reassured him. "I love pasta."

"Yeah, me too," he said. I studied him, taking in the sight of his sheer beauty. He'd chosen an old striped shirt of mine that would have looked appalling on anyone else, and he hadn't bothered with the top buttons; the sleeves were rolled up, and he hadn't tucked the shirt into the white shorts that didn't cover much of his long tanned legs. He was barefoot and sexy, and painfully unaware of it.

I walked towards the pan and smelled the sauce; it smelled delicious; tomatoes seemed to have aphrodisiac properties.

"Seems good," I said as my mouth watered. Tommy moved closer, spoon in hand. He scooped up some sauce and held it to my mouth.

"Here, taste it," he said. I did, sliding my lips all over the spoon.

"Hmmm," I sighed. It was truly good, sweet and slightly peppery.

"Like it?" he asked eagerly.

"It tastes amazing," I said honestly. I rudely snatched the spoon from his hands and dipped it into the sauce.

"No you don't" Tommy exclaimed, grabbing my arm. "Wait until dinner is ready."

"I can't, I'm starving," I whined, pouting. He just laughed.

"Shoo, get out and let me finish."

"Okay, okay, I know when I'm not wanted," I said, wishing I was only joking.

I was busy answering emails by the time Tommy finally called me; I was trying hard to slow down and keep focused on the fact that he'd been with Kimmy just three nights before. What bothered me the most (aside from the fact that he wasn't gay) was that he wasn't willing to tell me about his relationship with Kim. Sure, we weren't exactly best buddies, not even friends really (we'd been on friendly terms for all of five hours); but still, I was upset about his secrecy. I needed him to trust me, and I somehow knew that I'd be supportive towards his feelings even if it meant giving up on my own. If loving Kim made him happy I'd try to help him out. For the first time in my life I was completely unselfish, and all thanks to love. I smiled despite my hurt.

"Hey, I've been calling you for like five minutes," Tommy said softly as he entered the dining room.

"Sorry, I was just catching up with some stuff," I said as I closed my laptop.

"That's okay," he smiled. "But the pasta is getting cold."

"Let's go eat then," I smiled back. He led the way to the kitchen, and I followed him like a lost puppy.

I was glad he'd made himself at home as I surveyed the cozy kitchen table. He'd laid the table, placed napkins and served the food without even asking. In a way, I reflected, he probably did trust me.

We ate mostly in silence; I hadn't had someone cook for me in a long time, and I really enjoyed it. I was so damn tired of returning to an empty home, grabbing anything I could out of the fridge and watching TV during dinner.

Tommy was very polite at the table; he wasn't delicate or anything, but he just seemed to carry himself so well. I'm really turned off by people who chew noisily and don't user serviettes. I don't expect guys to be feminine or anything (in fact, I'm very turned off by that too) but I do like manners.

When we finished eating, I thanked him again for cooking.

"Quit thanking me already," he exclaimed, smiling.

"Okay okay," I said. "I really mean it though,"

"I know you do. But I've received the message by now. Besides," he added, "I was hungry too." I laughed and cleared the table, dumping the dirty dishes and pots in the dishwasher.

Out of habit, I went over to the pantry and grabbed a bottle of Scotch. I paused when I noticed Tommy eyeing me uncertainly.

"Want a drink?" I reluctantly asked.

"I don't drink," he answered.

"But you were drinking at the party," I pointed out. He looked away.

"That was different," he said touchily.

"How so?" I asked although he'd made it pretty clear that he didn't want to talk about it.

"I don't wanna talk about it, if it's okay with you," he told me tightly. Jeez.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, immediately regretting my question. He nodded.

"It's complicated," he answered feebly.

"I understand," I said, nevertheless feeling stung. He sighed.

I reached for a glass and poured myself a drink, then headed for the den; he didn't follow me. I dimmed the lights and made myself comfortable on a sofa as I stretched out and faced the TV, not paying any attention to whatever show was on.

Teddy Bear, my cat, suddenly climbed on to my lap, startling me.

"Hey there kid," I said as I scratched his ears; he immediately plunged into a purr-fest, rubbing his head on my lap delightedly, and I was once again surprised by how easy it was to make him happy. If only it were so easy for us humans...

"You love me, don't ya," I crooned as he climbed up my chest and purred into my ear, tickling me. His fur was soft and warm as it rubbed against my cheek. "Yeah you do, I know you do."

"I bet he does," Tommy spoke up. I looked at him, a silhouette at the doorway. He hobbled over and plopped down near me.

"Hey," he said softly, staring at me. He had poured himself a drink after all, and he rested the glass between his legs; the dusting of blond hair gleaming in the blue TV haze.

"I thought you didn't drink?" I said.

"I don't normally, but tonight I'm making an exception," he told me as he lit a cigarette. He handed it to me, apparently wanting to share it.

"Fine by me," I said as I took a drag of the cigarette, feeling the moist filter and thinking about his lips on it. His hand brushed mine as he took the cigarette. Something seemed to be on his mind, so I let him be, allowing him to elaborate.

"Jeremy, how do you feel about honesty?" he eventually asked.

"What about honesty?" I asked, uncomfortable.

"I mean, how important is it to you?"

"Very important," I said right away, because it was.

"Are you honest with me?" he asked carefully. I thought about it.

"I've never lied to you," I lied, feeling like shit.

He didn't say anything for a bit.

"I was just wondering," he finally said sadly because he knew I was lying. I nodded, unable to meet his eyes, sipping the dry drink. He offered the cigarette and I shook my head, unable to share anymore; he pursed his lips and stubbed it in an ashtray.

"I have a problem with sharing," I admitted, not referring to the cigarette.

"I can tell," he said. "I just hope someday I'll earn your trust."

I bit my lower lip, feeling cornered even though I shouldn't have.

"This is not about earning my trust," I said. "By default, I trust almost no one," I confided without even realizing.

"Well, I see you trust me enough to at least tell me that," he said, not joking.

I nodded.

"You're weird," he stated the obvious. "But then again..."

"You are weird too," I finished off for him. He looked over, startled. I flashed a quick smile and he smiled back.

"It takes one to know one huh," he laughed. I shook my head and glanced at my watch. I thought of something:

"Hey, shouldn't you rub some of that stuff on your ankle?" I asked him.

"Shit, yeah, I forgot," he exclaimed, getting up. I got up too.

"I'll get it, you stay here," I offered.

"Okay, it's in backpack," he answered.

I ran up to my room and reached for the backpack. I opened it and peered inside, feeling slightly guilty. He kept several notebooks, a pack of cigarettes, a wallet. I shook my head and snatched the bottle, quickly closing the backpack.

He was walking out of the kitchen, carrying a fresh glass of drink.

"Don't get drunk" I smiled.

"Nah, I won't," he laughed, but he seemed to be slightly buzzed. I handed him the bottle as we walked to the living room.

He sat down again and raised his injured foot, propping it on his knee. I looked at his legs as I sat down next to him, my eyes straying up to his crotch; funny, no tan lines from long swimming shorts.

I felt his eyes on me, so I casually averted my eyes and took another sip from my drink.

"It's pretty swollen," he informed me. I gagged, caught off guard and dirty-minded.

"What?" I stammered.

"My ankle," he told me.

"Right," I said, blushing. I stared at his ankle, and it did look pretty bruised; I felt extremely guilty about the "accident". He shifted around awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable position. I bit my lip, wondering if I should offer him some help. He looked at me.

"Would you..." he gestured feebly.

"Sure," I said quickly, taking the cream.

"Thanks," he said. I squirted some cream on my hands, wrinkling my nose at the pungent smell. I felt shaky as I reached out and took his foot in my hands. I gingerly began rubbing the stuff in, blushing and slightly drunk. Neither of us said anything as I moved his foot around and placed it on my lap. He lit another cigarette.

I rubbed more confidently, but I kept my eyes on his neatly trimmed toenails, not wanting to meet his gaze. My hands strayed slightly higher than they should and I blamed it on the alcohol. I was slowly inching closer to him, almost unconsciously.

"All done," I finally said, wiping my hands on my legs and looking over at him. He had closed his eyes, but he wasn't sleeping.

"Thanks," he whispered. He kept his leg draped over my lap, smoking lazily. I noticed that his drink was all gone, and that the cat had settled on his chest.

"No prob," I answered hazily. I reached for a remote control and got some music going. Tori Amos' voice was soothing as she whispered about Jupiter.

"That's my dog's name," Tommy said. "Jupiter."

"Cool name. I love Hey Jupiter," I added.

"Yeah," he said, stubbing his cigarette. I looked at him and wondered if this was what love meant.

"Guess I thought I could never feel the things I feel. Hey Jupiter, nothing's been the same, so are you gay, are you blue, thought we could both use a friend to run to..."

We remained silent as the song finished and a laser beam decoded the next one.

"She really loved him," Tommy finally said, eyes closed. I nodded, loving the way he was so sensitive and receptive to the music. A lot of people wouldn't have understood the song.

"Yeah, she must have felt so much pain when he left her," I said.

"Love is all about pain," he murmured. I was instantly alert.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously. He didn't answer, and I was startled to notice his deep, even breathing. He was asleep. Talk about being out as a light. I reached out and gently shook his shoulder, and his eyes fluttered open again.

"Jeez, someone's sleepy," I said, trying to keep the tenderness out of my voice.

"God yeah, long day," he breathed. "Also, I'm not too adapted to alcohol."

My good sense debated with my feelings.

"Wanna sleep over?" I finally asked as the latter won.

"You don't mind?" he asked.

"Nope..."

"Okay, sure, I'll stay over then."

"Okay, get up... You can sleep in my bedroom, or in the guest room."

"I'd rather sleep right here," he told me. "This sofa is pretty comfortable."

"You sure?" I asked doubtfully. I turned the music off.

"Yeah," he said.

"Okay, hold on... I'll get a couple of blankets for you."

I quickly walked to the laundry room and grabbed a few blankets, plus the cordless phone so he could call home.

He was already asleep on the sofa, and I paused, looking at him. He looked peaceful and beautiful, so perfect to my eyes. How I ached to be a part of his world, to share his dreams... I knew it'd never happen.

Sighing, I unfolded a blanket and wrapped it over his body, making sure he was properly covered because I didn't want him to be cold during the night.

He shifted slightly and opened his eyes hazily.

"Thanks," he murmured sleepily.

"Welcome... Call me if you need anything, okay" I got up quickly, overcome with lust, love and sadness.

"Hey... Would you mind staying for a bit?" he asked softly. I looked down at him reluctantly.

I relented, and sat down again. "Anything wrong?" I was worried.

"No. Yes. I just need a friend," he said. I bit my lower lip, moved by his confession and wishing I had the guts to be as vulnerable.

"I'm here for you," I whispered.

"I think you are," he mumbled. "Stay, would you?"

"Okay," I blamed the alcohol. I sat there as he slipped back into his dreams. I watched his facial expressions change as he glided through unconsciousness, and I wished I understood him. I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, soothed by his even breathing. A while went by, I don't really know how long..

"If only you could see me now," I whispered inaudibly as my love for him grew too strong to keep silent. "The real me. This wasted guy who's falling apart because of you. He only cares for you. Not for himself, not for any other person. Just you."

I sighed and got up, and the blanket slipped off his lower body, revealing his beautiful legs. I stared at his lower body briefly with a sexual rush, then shook my head. I refused to be cheap, there was no way I'd take advantage of his slumber. I reached for the blanket and covered him again, tucking the edge under his hips.

He suddenly whimpered and I was instantly by his side again. I knew that he was having a bad dream because his face was contorted and restless. He mumbled words that meant nothing to me. I gently took his hand in mine, wishing I could make both nightmares go away. Loving him was a nightmare. I stayed by his side until his mare galloped no more, and left, silently wishing I could deal with mine.

Tbc

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for the support!

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Comments welcome, and very much appreciated. Blue_dude@hotmail.com