Raphael was helping me pack. It seemed like my suitcase no longer had the same amount of surface area as it did when I first bought it.
"Sit on it," he said. "I'll try to zip it up."
I sat on my suitcase and watched him try to put on a neutral face as he struggled with the zipper.
"Careful," I said. "You'll break it."
He glanced up. "Maybe that's my aim."
I caught his eye, refusing to look away until he did.
He looked down at the zipper again and went back to moving it around, arm muscles bulging with effort until the zipper pulled away.
"You broke it," I stated.
He dropped the broken zipper in my hand. "Oops."
"Raphael," I started, curling my fingers around the broken zipper.
"I'll fix it," he said, interrupting me. "I can fix things, you know. I'm not completely useless."
"I know."
"So," he said, "stop freaking out. I got this."
He reached for the zipper but I clenched my fingers around it before he could grasp it. "Maybe we should take a break. We've still got some time."
He took a deep breath and stood up from where he was crouching by my side. "I'll get a glass of water."
"I'll come with you."
He hesitated before nodding, and I watched his shoulders slowly relax.
Raphael slowly filled two tall glasses with water, and I leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter as I watched him do it carefully. "You could always visit."
"So could you. Which makes more sense because Scarlet and Dan would be here too."
"They could go with you."
"Doesn't matter." He turned around and handed me a glass. Sweat dampened the roots of his hair, a result of staying cooped up in my room with no air conditioning or fan in the middle of summer. I slowly sipped the cold water and watched him gulp his own like he hadn't had a sip in a very long time.
"I still haven't met your friends."
"It's kind of too late, don't you think?"
I ignored him. "Do you tell them things about me? Like how you tattooed me, like how you helped me out, like how you've been staying over almost every night since Scarlet left but you keep insisting on sleeping on the couch even though her bed is empty and I don't mind sharing my own."
"They don't know anything about you."
"Why?"
"Because it doesn't matter if they do, does it? Your flight is tomorrow, it's not like they'll ever miss you."
"What about before? Why didn't I meet them before you knew?"
"I've always known, Jake. I knew when I sent the email, and I knew when you left, and I knew when you came back. Can we talk about something else?"
I looked down at the glass in my hand. "Okay. Will you come with me?"
He shook his head and left his glass of water on the kitchen counter before walking away.
"Is that a no?" I called after him.
He flipped me off without turning around.
â
That night, I watched him set up the couch as he readied for bed. "I'll drop you off at the airport," he was saying as he tucked the bed sheet in between the folds in the couch. "So you won't have to go alone."
"Are you sure?" I leaned against the nearest wall as I watched him after he rejected my attempts at helping him.
He didn't say anything as he struggled with the stiff pillow.
"You don't have to do that," I said.
"I want to."
"I mean sleep here."
Raphael dropped the pillow and turned to me. "I want to."
"I'm leaving in the morning."
"Yes, we've already established that a while ago."
"I mean," my fingers clenched. "We don't have to do anything. It would be easier, in my room. We could wake up together."
I knew I sounded desperate. Even pathetic.
But Raphael must have found some kind of comfort in that, and he abandoned the thin folded up blanket by the foot of the couch.
Leading him into my room was more awkward than I had initially pictured it to be, like I was leading him there for the first time. I stretched my hand out to flick on the lights.
"No need for that," he said.
My hand fell limply to my side.
Raphael was better at composing himself, or better at acting like it, as he pulled off his shirt and disappeared into the connected bathroom.
I decided to leave my t-shirt on and pushed off the covers before settling on my side. My eyes fixed on the digital clock by my bedside table, something else I would either have to leave behind or remember to pack last minute.
Raphael reemerged and stood by the opposite end of the bed like he was waiting for an invitation.
A moment passed before he lifted the covers on his end and eased against his pillow.
I didn't want to stare, but I felt his gaze in my direction and I couldn't not look.
When my eyes fell on his figure, they fell directly at his lips.
It was the slowest, and the most sober we've had it since I left.
I was aware of all of it. Of the moment his hand stretched out, the moment our lips grazed, the moment his hand did more than just stretch out, and we were curled around each other like our bodies were forged that way.
I didn't want to think about leaving the following morning, but I was heavily aware of it. Even when he let me push him down and gaze at him. My slightly over-sized t-shirt hung around my torso and slightly brushed over his naked chest. It was warm, but now it was warmer as he tugged me back down for another kiss. His tongue tasted like peppermint toothpaste and left a tingling feeling where it moved.
I was still aware of leaving when he mentioned it, too.
"Would you let me touch you like this if I went with you?" and his fingers pulled down my boxers.
I would, but I didn't say it because he wouldn't come with me. Instead, I twisted us around and watched him climb over my legs as he got rid of my shirt, and I was more naked than he was. It was unfair, but his fingers made up for it, and I let it go.
When he bent, and his lips roamed over my chest, my shoulders, my neck like he was searching for something he couldn't taste on his tongue, he said quietly, "Just for a while. I can go for a while and we can test it out and play it by ear."
My fingers were peeling the rest of his clothes off, and we twisted around again, and again. We couldn't decide which way to go for the last time. I wanted the lights on, I wanted to see the new tattoos, I wanted to see all of him, take pictures of him. Maybe I could see him again, but he might look different then, and I wanted to remember him now. With his hair glistening, even in the dark, at this length, his cheeks flushed and soft from this morning's shave. He wanted the lights off, and to never remember this again. Or to remember it with eyes squeezed shut, so only his fingers would know how it felt when he finally let me in with his back pressed against his sheets, and his legs spread beneath me.
His nails raked down my back, and he pulled me closer to him so he grazed his teeth against my ear. I could feel his warm breaths hit my skin, and his tongue forming words that didn't make sense. I closed my eyes, so I could feel him like he was feeling me.
I didn't want to think about what would happen to his apartment, his tattoo machine, the life he lived here before I tumbled in.
"Just for a while," I said.
What a mess. What a hot, hot mess.
THE END. THEY ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER. I'll runaway and live in a cave now until I figure out what I want to do next. Raphael's chapter will be up soon. ok BYE. (Update: it's up under "extras"!!)