Chapter 28

I look down at the piece of paper in my hand. It feels like years ago that I wrote it, even though it's only been a few weeks. Maybe not even a month. It's like time has been standing still, and going by at the speed of light all at the same time.

I slowly read through each number, trying to make sense of it, and yet nothing on it matters anymore. I don't care about half the stuff now that E.J. is standing by my side. Most of all, I don't care about number ten. I don't want endings. I don't want anything to end anymore. I just want forever to come, and to last for, well... forever. Every second, minute, hour, spent with E.J. by my side, fighting in the snow, dancing in the rain, laying in the middle of a field with the sunlight kissing our faces, until the world stops spinning, and even then I don't want it to end. Even then I want us to go on forever. But forever is a long time, and we still need to fit a lot in between now and forever.

"So... You need to make a decision Brody. What stays on the list? What goes? What does the future hold for you; for us?" E.J. asks, putting his hand over mine as we look out over the city lights, the cold wind tickling our faces as we tower over the ants below us where we are standing on the hotel balcony.

"I don't know. I had this plan. Well... I thought I had this plan. This plan to just do some things and then making it all stop. Making it end. And now, here I am, and I don't want anything to end, so it kinda makes the rest of the list seem a little bit pointless I guess," I answer as I draw a finger over each and every number on the list, wondering why I held each number so very close. Why each and every thing on the list was so important to me and now means less than nothing.

"Okay. What about you go and take a shower. I will take a bath. And after dinner with Cameron and Will we can look at it again?" E.J. suggests.

It's been days since I declared my love to E.J. Days of thinking back and forth where my life would go from here. Two more gay clubs later. Twice more of seeing Lady Lalaland perform to the crowds that seemed to adore her. Days of having a groupie following us in an antique Ford Anglia with a numberplate stating that he is POTR007, which he only leaves when we stop for meals and he can look into Cameron's eyes while sharing Harry Potter trivia which makes Cameron laugh and blow kisses at him. I would have never guessed that Cameron was such a nerd, but here we are as he holds on to every word making their way from the Wizarding World.

***

"So, are we gonna go and see him handsome?" Cameron tries to say through a mouth full of spaghetti.

"Who? What?" I ask, looking up from the pasta in my plate and trying to remember what the conversation had been all about. I have been out of it quite a bit. As much as I try, I can't help but being pulled back to the list that's now in my back pocket.

"Elijah. As in the Elijah! As in the most brilliantly somber, saddened soul who creates the most powerful sentences of macabre depressing literature," Cameron answers, looking over at E.J. as he smiles.

It's not like I have forgotten. It's all anyone has been talking about. The amazing Elijah. The brilliant author, and apart from seeing his face when E.J. is watching another interview of him on Youtube, I can honestly say I have no idea who this guy is.

"I have to admit something," E.J. says as he puts down his fork in his plate. "I've met him before. It was a while back. I gave him a manuscript. Something I wrote."

I could not help my mouth falling open.

"You write?" I ask as as Cameron interjects.

"What?! The!! Hell!!!" he screams, his Lady Lalaland voice coming through as he knocks over a ketchup bottle. "You have met Elijah! As in met him and spoke to him and had him read something you have written?"

"It probably wasn't that good. It's not like I heard from him again," E.J. says as he picks up his fork again, lowering his head and starts eating without answering my question.

Slowly I put my hand on his underneath the table, always cautious not to make any sudden moves.

"You write?" I whisper.

"Just a little bit. Or I used to. I thought my story would have been worth telling the world, but seriously. It doesn't matter," E.J. answers as his fingers curl into mine.

Before I have time to answer Cameron breaths in again, not allowing me to tell E.J. that I would love to read his work.

"Is he as sexy in real life? I heard he is actually very short. Fuck girl! You had words that you wrote in his hands. Under his eyes. Oh my gawd!!! I think I am getting wet!"

"Are you talking about me?" Will says as he returns to the table from the restroom.

"Oh honey, you wish you could make me as wet as Elijah-fucking-Turner! He's a bloody god!" Cameron answers. I let out a sigh of relief, hoping that they will continue the conversation and allow E.J. to catch his breath again.

"Would you like to get some air?" I ask, looking out the window.

With a nod from E.J. and a quick excuse I lead him out of the restaurant and pull him closer.

"You really wrote about what that monster did to you?" I ask, lifting his chin with my finger, hoping that he would be okay looking me straight in the eyes.

A small nod confirms it and I can't help but feeling a coldness run down my spine, making my knees want to buckle, but I lock my knees. I stay upright. I have to. For him.

"You are the bravest person I have ever met E.J. Beyond that... You are the strongest person I have ever met, and probably will ever meet. I barely deserve someone as brave and strong as you. But I guess that's probably why some guardian angel sent you on my path. They knew I would need someone to stand by me and keep me strong some day," I whisper to him, keeping him in my gaze, willing him to know that I mean each and every single word.

"How can you say that?" he asks, pushing his chin against my finger, wanting me to let him break eye contact, but I refuse, keeping my finger where it is with the softest of pressure.

"You went through everything you went through twice. You wrote it all down. You shared it with someone. I could never imagine writing about what I have been through. It would be too hard. I'm not strong enough to do that," I answer, feeling the tears burn behind my eyes. Feeling the fear clutching my heart just at the thought of ever having to relive what I have been through, even just in memory. But the thought of reliving everything again makes me want to vomit from fear. Recalling all those memories and then making them real, in black on white on a page in front of me. I would never be able to do that.

"Sometimes writing it down makes it feel like it happened to someone else. A character you have created," E.J. whispers. Fog starting to appear from his mouth. "I didn't want to relive it. I wanted to get rid of it. There's nothing strong in that. I hoped that in writing it I would be able to run away from it. But it didn't quite work that way."

"I bet," I sigh, releasing his chin and pulling him close to me. "What that monster did to you... Things could have turned out so differently."

"I don't think I will ever be able to have sex with you," E.J. whispers in my ear. "I don't think I want to. Not now. Maybe not ever. And if that's someday going to be a problem, I need you to tell me. I'd like to walk away now. Before that becomes an issue Brody. Understand that I don't want to be hurt again, and also that I don't want to hurt you."

"I told you... It doesn't matter. That doesn't matter," I answer, feeling the tears starting to roll down my cheeks as I pull him closer to me.

"But we need to talk about it. I need you to understand why. Like really understand why," he says, his voice ringing clearly in my ears.

"We really don't. I understand, and I won't change my mind. I promise."

"You are going to see me naked someday, and you are going to wonder what it would feel like. To hold me like that. To kiss me all over. You will think about penetration. You will wank in the shower, beating off while you think I am asleep, and you will feel guilty every single time you do that. And I don't want that for you. I don't want you to have those feelings. So if we are going to make things work between us, we need to come up with some sort of plan. Okay?" E.J. says pulling out of my arms and sitting on the curb, gesturing for me to take a seat next to him.

"This kinda feels like one of those situations in a movie where you take out a cigarette," I try to make a joke as I sit down, but I don't even find it funny, and clearly E.J. doesn't either.

"Don't you want someone you can make love to someday?" he asks.

"I want to be with you E.J." I answer.

"Take out your list," he orders.

I stare at him for a moment before I lift myself up and pull the crumbled piece of paper from my back pocket.

"Read number nine," he instructs.

"Have sex," I read out loud.

"So you can't tell me it's not something you want. It's on that damn bucket list of yours," E.J. says before allowing his head to fall into his hands, leaving me to look at him, feeling the guilt he just tried to describe that I would someday feel.

"That's what I wanted. When I wrote the list. I never thought you would be my world. That in a few weeks I would give up everything on this list just to be with you," I answer, knowing that it is only a half truth, but willing to lie for the rest of my life, live with guilt every time I mastrubate without him knowing, willing to give it up if I really had to, just to be with him.

"Don't lie Brody. I'm a guy to remember. Did you forget I'm a guy? I also get urges. I also wank. And I feel dirty and like some sort of fucktup piece of shit every time that I do. Every time I see that sticky shit shoot out of me I want to scream. I want to fucking kill myself, because just like him I could not control myself. Couldn't control my urges. I'm never in control! I can't even control myself! And I am scared. I am scared to hell that someday I might lose control completely, and then I will allow you to go further, and somewhere while I am making love to the person who means more than the world to me I will see his face above me. I will make a connotation between him and you. And then I will hate you to. And I don't ever want that to happen. Never."

I rested my hand on his shoulder, feeling him shake beneath my fingers, but not a tear came, even though I was expecting it. He didn't seem sad as much as he seemed angry now.

"See! He didn't just take my virginity. He didn't just rape me for years. He took any fucking chance I would ever have with someone. He took away an expression of love others think is normal. He took away my right to love you in a certain way. He told me... He told me once... That no matter where I was, he would always be there. And he was right. I didn't want to believe him, but he was right. He will always be the shadow looking over my shoulder, just waiting to cast the darkness where I find the light."

E.J. breathes in deeply, almost like he had been under the water while he was speaking. Like air didn't want to go into his lungs unless he forced it in.

"Give me a chance E.J. We will work something out. I promise we will," I answer, not knowing what else to say. What can I say?

"Promise me that we can have an open relationship. That when you meet the right person you won't turn down sex. Because you deserve everything, even if I can't be the one to give everything to you," E.J. answers and at this a tear actually does escape his eyes as I once again pull him toward me, not wanting to see his pain, but rather want to take it away, even though I know that no amount of hugs would ever to be able to take away the pain he would probably feel for the rest of his life.

"Sometimes a relationship is about sacrifice. So maybe once a week you can give me some private time for an hour or so. Just me and my hand. That way I don't have to feel guilty and neither do you. Who knows... Maybe someday it will be so okay that we could both be in the same room. But even if that never happens I don't care. Because sex doesn't mean jack shit. I get that a dick governed your world, and that sex became the thing that hurt you the most, and that you think it is something very important. But just as you think it's important, I don't. Gosh... I would cut my dick off if I knew that would always make you feel safe when I am near."

A giggle sounds from my shoulder as E.J. pushes me away to look at my tear stained face.

"You don't have to cut off your dick. Maybe there's some off chance that I might get some actual help someday, and then I might just want to use it," he says with a smile before he pulls me closer, hugging me tight against him.