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He was supposed to help Shayne get to sleep.
Damien pulled the keys out of the ignition. His music cut out at the same moment, leaving Damien suddenly alone in the quiet of his car. He looked around the garage of the apartment complex and thought about how many times he’s sat in this exact spot after getting a late night call. He thought about how quick he was to come back. How he knows the exact length of the drive from his place to Shayne’s in minutes because of how the CD always ends up on the same song.
Damien opened his car door to the bright blue of fluorescent lights and the sharp, low buzz of electricity throughout the car garage. He moved slowly to the elevator, each step heavier than he remembered them being. Like his legs were years older than the rest of him. He imagined they’re falling in the exact spots as they did the time before this. His imagination let him think that by the end of everything, he’ll have worn a trail in the cement from the guest parking space to the elevator.
He relished the moments in the elevator he had to mentally prepare for seeing Shayne again, after a few months of thinking things between them were finished. The short period of time had taken a toll on him- his tired, baggy eyes and messy hair can be blamed on being roused out of bed so late at night, but there’s something else about him that he knows is wrong. The bones of his cheek and jawline were clearer, and he knew it wasn’t because of the gym. Damien hadn’t been keeping care of himself and whenever he did eat it wasn’t vegetables. He sighed, and tried to straighten out the fit of his clothes on his body before the elevator opened.
Slowly, with the heaviness of his footsteps setting in again, he walked to Shayne’s door. He knocked abruptly and loudly for the time of night, and waited.
He felt uncomfortable just facing the door, so he turned towards the hallway in both directions and fiddled with the straps of his jacket. He felt self-conscious even though he was completely alone in the hallway. He tried to make his movements casual, in case Shayne decided to peek through the peephole. Damien hated how uncomfortable he was in his own body, how nervous he was to see Shayne again after their argument months ago.
“Hey”, Shayne said from the door.
Damien jumped a little, having been caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the door open. He took a second to look at Shayne for the first time in a while. His eyes were red. His hair was greasy and he looked like he had only put on clothes to answer the door, and just boxers and an old t-shirt.
“This is the last time.” But as soon as he spoke he could feel the familiar heaviness of words he hadn’t realized he’d said before. He felt them sink into his stomach and he hoped he had spoken with some sense of finality.
Shayne slowly nodded. “Yeah. Last time.” His eyes moved towards the ground. “I promise.”
Damien moved past Shayne into the apartment. His eyes passed over the familiar nighttime glow of Shayne’s living room. He couldn’t remember the last time he had come over when it was clean.
He turned back towards the door to see Shayne staring at him from the hallway. He felt heavy. He broke eye contact with Shane and sat down on the couch on top of old clothes. He ran his eyes over the room without settling on anything, to pass time. He noticed a drained bottle of vodka on the coffee and a glass.
Out of Damien’s eyesight, Shayne turned off all of the living room lights. The glow of the city from the window and the light from the kitchen was enough to make out Shayne’s silhouette moving towards the armchair across from Damien.
Shayne let his body fall into the recliner and settle before moving his feet into Damien’s lap. Shayne moaned as Damien began working his fingers into Shayne’s soles. They stayed quiet like this for a while. Until Damien spoke.
“Come sit in my lap.” It was a direction, almost a command. Shayne got up immediately, as if he’d been waiting, hoping, yearning for Damien to break the tension.
Shayne drunkenly plopped onto Damien, he was warm and smelled like liquor. Damien snaked his hand under the back of Shayne’s shirt, tracing a line up and down along his spine with just the tip of his finger like he had done a hundred times before- something his mother had done to him as a child to calm him down before bed. Shayne moaned into the touch and Damien to feel the tension in his own body build as Shayne’s body relaxed. Damien had missed that sound, and he clenched his eyes shut in the darkness to avoid looking at Shayne’s silhouette on top of him.
He was supposed to help Shayne get to sleep. Nothing else.
“I still have feelings for you,” Shayne said. Damien turned his head. Shayne was slurring his words and looking at the lights of the city through the window.
Damien was tired. He could feel the weight of his eyes and he couldn’t think clearly, like he was being dragged down. He tried to think about his and Shayne’s on again, off again feelings for each other. How their arguments had affected their friends.
Damien also thought about Shayne’s boyfriend. The long distance boyfriend who visited once or twice a year, the one Shayne was in love with. He thought about how only 8 months ago he and Shayne got drunk with their friends and made love for a whole night. How Boze had to break the news to him over coffee the next day that he helped someone cheat. He remembered Shayne’s reaction to Damien telling him he had a crush on him, a month into their first try of whatever it was they kept trying to be. How Shayne had laughed at him. He remembered all the times he tried to break things off with Shayne, especially the third time, when they tried living together after 5 months. How much of a wreck they were together.
He thought about the codes he and Shayne spoke in, Shayne’s refusal to commit to whatever it was they were, and how he just wanted someone to call him their boyfriend for once. All Damien wanted was for Shayne to give all of himself, like he had. To not be ashamed for people to know they’re together. To not have to hold hands under the table at the office even though everyone knows they’ve been having sex for months.
But then he thought about a different Shayne. The Shayne that clung onto him after sex, the Shayne that texted him out of the blue. The Shayne that took him to restaurants he thought Damien might enjoy. The Shayne that was smart, and careful, and funny. The Shayne drunk on top of him.
And suddenly the white noise of Damien’s thoughts cut off. He focused on the warm weight of Shayne on top of him, reached out and gripped Shayne’s hand, and laced their fingers together.
“I still have feelings for you too.”