The Story

By: KellyCRocker59

It's been an eternity since I've done any work with these two, but I've been working on this for the better part of half a year, so it's all finished and I'll be updating frequently. There are about 25 individual vignettes that make up the whole plot, and I'll post three to five each chapter.

Opening Departure

There once was a man named Sean Jackson. He was strong and stoic. He was a professional football player with a large fanbase. He had some really close friends and a lot of casual friends. But Sean Jackson held a lot of sadness deep in his heart.

Sean Jackson was gay. He had been gay since he could remember, but the problem was that no one else knew he was gay. This was problematic, because there was no one with whom Sean could confide. He was left grappling with many emotions that he could not comprehend. Loneliness filled his heart, and he began to drift away from his friends and family.

Then one day when Sean Jackson was drinking alone at a bar, he saw another man. He saw other men all the time, but this one seemed different. The bar was crowded, people were swarming amongst Sean, but he kept his eyes on this elusive man. The man stood and disappeared into the crowd, and Sean drew a breath and took a long drink, attempting to lead his mind astray from the man.

However, the man later returned to his seat. Sean had been drinking for quite some time, so he was not quite aware of the time. He was, however, aware of the desire boiling beneath his skin. Due to this, Sean stood and crossed the room toward the man. The man had an inward tilt to his shoulders and peered into his half-emptied glass.

"Hey." Sean acknowledged.

The man looked up from his glass, brow tightening above his eyes, lips falling loose. "Hi?"

Sean was not this sort of brave individual. He was very brave in the traditional sense, brave in almost every sense of the word, truly. But when it came to men, Sean was not brave in the least. However, there was alcohol pounding through his veins, and so Sean became a very brave man indeed.

"Are you here with anyone?" He asked.

The man shook his head. Sean wished he were better at reading expressions in that moment, because something flickered behind the other man's eyes. Sean thought it was very similar to a light, one that did not shine, but burned.

"What's your name?" He asked, unfazed.

"Holden." The man replied, turning to face him, which made Sean feel like a bit more brave, still.

"Can I buy you a drink, Holden?"

Holden nodded. "I would like that."

Sean smiled, because in truth, he had never bought a drink for a man that he liked. So Sean bought Holden a drink, and they decided to spend their night talking beside the bar. As people began to leave the bar, Sean was able to sit, and so they stayed and talked for several more hours.

Sean learned Holden's favorite color, his favorite animal, why he hated seventh grade, where he went to college, his best friend's daughter's favorite television show, and Holden's favorite food. Sean unraveled with Holden's words, soon finding himself thoroughly entangled in the other man's companionship.

This was the night that Sean Jackson and Holden Wilson began their story.

Take Care

In a beach house far away from reality but not so far away from society, there lived a football player named Sean Jackson. Sean had many friends, but he was often alone in his spacious residence. Sometimes, he got very lonely, sitting and watching television or ordering food from a napkin with a list of phone numbers scrawled in his handwriting. Some days, he would sit and think, maybe put a pen to his machinations.

Then one day, Sean met a man named Holden Wilson. Holden was a kind man with a hunger for success but a heart for friendship. He did not know Sean by first and last name as so many people did. Instead, Sean was simply Sean, which made the football player very happy. He took Holden on dates and one day when they were standing outside of a vacant restaurant, Sean decided to kiss him. Holden seemed very surprised, but he kissed Sean back. A lot of kissing happened after that.

After kisses came a drawer of Holden's belongings at Sean's house, and then came weekends spent with both of them lying stitched together in Sean's bed, and later still, finally, came Sean, hefting heavy boxes of Holden's household necessities up many stairs and into his bedroom. Holden helped as well, and soon they had a home together.

Now that Holden lived with him, Sean began to realize how accustomed he had grown to being alone. Holden could cook breakfast and grab dinner from a nice restaurant or sometimes he would cook dinner as well. He would roll over in the morning and kiss Sean's open mouth. He would smile just when Sean looked at him. Sean was not used to the attention. Sean was a self-sufficient man, but with Holden, he no longer needed to deal with the repercussions of that lifestyle.

Sometimes, Sean would sit on his balcony and stare out at the ocean. Sometimes Holden would spend many hours at a desk, studying papers and tapping at a calculator, things Sean was not used to doing. During these times, Sean would spend his time alone. He relished it in the way someone may relish a night of laziness on an otherwise manic vacation. Then Holden would come out of the study, hair messed up in all directions, eyes blinking rapidly, and Sean would pull him onto his lap. Holden would rest his head on Sean's shoulder, and Sean would breathe into Holden's hair while he closed his eyes and rested.

You see, Holden took care of Sean all the time. So sometimes, Sean enjoyed taking care of Holden.

Hanging On

There came a time in which Holden Wilson began to drift from Sean Jackson. This could not be pinpointed on a timeline. Sean could not recall the exact moment or place when it began, but he did remember when he recognized it. There came a day when Sean Jackson was sharing coffee with his lover and he caught a flicker of light diminishing behind his eyes. It halted his thoughts, words falling from his lips unsaid. By the time Sean realized he was losing his love, it was too late.

Refusal and denial were Sean's first instincts. In bed, he would pull Holden so close to him that he could feel both of their heartbeats. When they made love, he held on with all of his might, his fingers marking and bruising the other man. Holden did not complain. Holden did not say much, in truth. Afterward, Holden would fall onto Sean's chest and take a deep breath before dodging away and curling into himself on their bed. Sean would meld his body with Holden's, and Holden would allow it. But he was a ragdoll beneath Sean's fingers, moving as he was directed, speaking when spoken to, doing as he was asked.

Sean came to accept this. He was not the type for confrontation, never one to start a fight. Even as he felt Holden slipping through his fingers, he resolved that Holden would never leave. That some force of the universe, some higher power, had bound their souls together. So when he arrived home and found Holden's bags by the door, when he saw Holden standing there in the living room with his hands clenched and head down, he felt every inch of his skin burn and go numb.

He called out to him. As Holden took his belongings to his car and packed them into the trunk, he stood there, pleading, saying words he had kept to himself, promises that he should have made long ago, finally fighting.

Holden only spoke once. As he was getting into his car, he turned to Sean and raised his hand to the other man's cheek. Sean grabbed it but Holden pulled away, shaking his head. He sat down in his car and looked up at Sean. The blazing in Sean's chest was his alone now. As their eyes held, Sean searched for any ember, any spark, but found none.

"I'm sorry, Sean. I just can't keep hanging on."