end .
Death was such a private matter, usually confined to hospitals or inside houses. Michael felt like he’d been let in on something intimate. About a hundred times more so than if he’d come over and he and Nicky had simply fucked.
“I mean about the religion thing.” Nicky wiped his hands on his jeans like he was embarrassed. “I don’t notice it anymore. She got a bunch of the stuff when her own mom died, but then it started multiplying in the last few years…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, and then on the back of his neck. The skin there had faded to pink.
Michael guessed Nicky hadn’t had much time lately to motorcycle in the sun. “Oh. That.” He shrugged. His own mom had weird crap all over the place, though in her case it was more likely to be plants, dream catchers and statues of Shiva. “I figured you were religious or something, and that’s why you never…” He didn’t want to say came out of the closet . Even with the television cranked to a level they practically had to shout over, Michael didn’t want to be overheard.
“I’m not religious.” Nicky went to the fridge and got out two beers. He handed one to Michael and opened the other for himself.
“Okay.” Michael downed a measure to have something to do with his hands. “You know, you don’t need to explain anything to me.”
Nicky glanced sideways, his lips pinching. “Like hell I don’t.”
The remark cut so fast that Michael couldn’t figure out where it came from. He gritted his teeth, trying not to rise to the bait. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Nicky rubbed his face, hanging his head and looking small, like maybe he’d shrunk recently. “It’s just, I know what you need. What you want me to do if we’re going to…”
Michael thought about stopping Nicky, telling him that tonight Michael didn’t need anything from him at all. But he wanted to hear this, to know how things looked between them from Nicky’s perspective.
“I can’t be like that right now.” Nicky’s chest deflated. “Hell, I can’t even be a regular person. Do regular shit like go to work or to the store without worrying. And I have to pack her stuff up tomorrow…” He swallowed, eyes wide open and his gaze a bottomless pit of need. “But, I want you here. I can’t offer you anything, but I want you here so much.”
Michael crossed the kitchen in a few steps and grabbed Nicky around the shoulders. He didn’t worry about Nicky’s mom out in the living room, or anyone seeing through the pitch-black windows, because what Nicky needed right now was a friend. No matter what Michael might want in the future, he could be a friend for Nicky. The guy who held him and patted his back, letting him shudder and maybe cry a little.
“Hey. It’s okay.” Michael rubbed Nicky over his short-sleeved shirt, not letting their skin touch, because if that happened, Michael would want to give Nicky a kiss. “It’s fine. Just relax.” In the week since they’d last seen each other, Nicky seemed to have grown more fragile. “Let’s have another beer, huh?”
Nicky’s shoulders bounced on a laugh. “Okay.” He wiped his face, pulling away. They were only a third of the way through their bottles, but he grabbed another two out of the fridge. With a sly smirk, he said, “We should tip into my mom’s schnapps collection.”
“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of party.” Michael sidled up next to Nicky, wanting like anything to touch him but settling for a hip bump. “Peach schnapps out of dusty bottles? Yum.” As much as Michael hated sweet drinks, he’d share a glass with orange juice if it kept the smile on Nicky’s face.
“No. Peppermint.” The way Nicky shuddered made it clear that he didn’t like schnapps any more than Michael did. “But we’d have to give Mom a nip. I swear she can smell that stuff like a bloodhound.”
The idea that the frail woman on the couch in the living room was a secret party
Death was such a private matter, usually confined to hospitals or inside houses. Michael felt like he’d been let in on something intimate. About a hundred times more so than if he’d come over and he and Nicky had simply fucked.
“I mean about the religion thing.” Nicky wiped his hands on his jeans like he was embarrassed. “I don’t notice it anymore. She got a bunch of the stuff when her own mom died, but then it started multiplying in the last few years…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, and then on the back of his neck. The skin there had faded to pink.
Michael guessed Nicky hadn’t had much time lately to motorcycle in the sun. “Oh. That.” He shrugged. His own mom had weird crap all over the place, though in her case it was more likely to be plants, dream catchers and statues of Shiva. “I figured you were religious or something, and that’s why you never…” He didn’t want to say came out of the closet . Even with the television cranked to a level they practically had to shout over, Michael didn’t want to be overheard.
“I’m not religious.” Nicky went to the fridge and got out two beers. He handed one to Michael and opened the other for himself.
“Okay.” Michael downed a measure to have something to do with his hands. “You know, you don’t need to explain anything to me.”
Nicky glanced sideways, his lips pinching. “Like hell I don’t.”
The remark cut so fast that Michael couldn’t figure out where it came from. He gritted his teeth, trying not to rise to the bait. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing.” Nicky rubbed his face, hanging his head and looking small, like maybe he’d shrunk recently. “It’s just, I know what you need. What you want me to do if we’re going to…”
Michael thought about stopping Nicky, telling him that tonight Michael didn’t need anything from him at all. But he wanted to hear this, to know how things looked between them from Nicky’s perspective.
“I can’t be like that right now.” Nicky’s chest deflated. “Hell, I can’t even be a regular person. Do regular shit like go to work or to the store without worrying. And I have to pack her stuff up tomorrow…” He swallowed, eyes wide open and his gaze a bottomless pit of need. “But, I want you here. I can’t offer you anything, but I want you here so much.”
Michael crossed the kitchen in a few steps and grabbed Nicky around the shoulders. He didn’t worry about Nicky’s mom out in the living room, or anyone seeing through the pitch-black windows, because what Nicky needed right now was a friend. No matter what Michael might want in the future, he could be a friend for Nicky. The guy who held him and patted his back, letting him shudder and maybe cry a little.
“Hey. It’s okay.” Michael rubbed Nicky over his short-sleeved shirt, not letting their skin touch, because if that happened, Michael would want to give Nicky a kiss. “It’s fine. Just relax.” In the week since they’d last seen each other, Nicky seemed to have grown more fragile. “Let’s have another beer, huh?”
Nicky’s shoulders bounced on a laugh. “Okay.” He wiped his face, pulling away. They were only a third of the way through their bottles, but he grabbed another two out of the fridge. With a sly smirk, he said, “We should tip into my mom’s schnapps collection.”
“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of party.” Michael sidled up next to Nicky, wanting like anything to touch him but settling for a hip bump. “Peach schnapps out of dusty bottles? Yum.” As much as Michael hated sweet drinks, he’d share a glass with orange juice if it kept the smile on Nicky’s face.
“No. Peppermint.” The way Nicky shuddered made it clear that he didn’t like schnapps any more than Michael did. “But we’d have to give Mom a nip. I swear she can smell that stuff like a bloodhound.”
The idea that the frail woman on the couch in the living room was a secret party
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