The first sound of the next morning was a distant hiss of shower water from the bathroom as he woke up alone.

Brooke, like Jeremy, seemed to be an early riser. He roused himself and trekked out of the room in favor of breakfast. The kitchen floor was cold under his bare feet. The dog licked his legs as he stood.

Brooke came into the kitchen several minutes later, running a towel over wet hair. He chewed on a peanut butter sandwich and watched the morning news. Neither of them mentioned the previous night.

Work ran slowly but comfortably for a Saturday. They took food from the diner home with them and spent their evening watching a college football game.

"Shit, Brooke cheered at the TV. "Wide receiver just ran like a bat outta hell. That had to be, what, 40 yards?"

"Maybe a little more," Michael said, chewing on a toothpick. "Fucker's fast. I'm impressed."

"Damn right. He keeps going like that he'll make the NFL."

Football was a primal sport; aggressive and dangerous. He didn't mind watching it from time to time but it was an entirely new experience seeing a game with Brooke. Her commentary made him laugh.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, signaling a text message.

Attentive as always, Brooke asked, "Is that Jeremy?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

Today 12:26 PM

come home.

No 'please'; it wasn't a question. Jeremy wasn't begging. He was telling him to be there. A chill crept ominously up his spine. Please be okay, he prayed.

"He says to come home," he said.

Wasting no time, Brooke leapt from the couch. "Well, get your shit together then. I'll drive you like, now."

"Okay," he said in a low tone.

He took less than five minutes gathering his belongings and stuffing them in his backpack. He accepted a goodbye kiss from the dog and followed Brooke to the car.

"You're the best friend I've had," he told her as he stepped out of the vehicle toward his and Jeremy's apartment.

"Damn right I am." Brooke grinned. "Don't screw things up with Jer, alright?"

"I'll do my best," he said. "Thanks, Brookie."

"Any day, pretty boy. I'll see you at work on Monday."


The apartment was dead silent when Michael went in. There was no music leaking from headphones or a record player; no scratch of a pencil against paper; no flutter of turning book pages. Only stillness.

Michael crossed himself and said a Hail Mary under his breath. He found Jeremy in the kitchen. The man sat on the floor with his head against a cabinet. A full bottle of vodka sat by his foot. He stared into the air with blank eyes, twirling a razor blade between his fingers. It glinted in the light with each rotation; a treacherous sparkle.

The man's eyes were dark and his mouth pressed together in a tight line. His legs sprawled carelessly across the tile. He hadn't even taken his shoes off from work.

"Jer," he whispered shakily. He eased down to kneel in front of him.

"Couldn't fucking do it," Jeremy said softly. "I wanted to, but I just couldn't. Couldn't face the idea of you knowing I'd fallen back down."

Michael touched his face. Jeremy sighed as his fingers ghosted his cheek and then his jawline. He thought of kissing him as he pursed his lips sadly. He didn't dare.

"You're stronger than that," he told him.

"Or I care too much," said Jeremy flatly.

"There's no such thing as caring too much."

Michael sat down next to him. He leaned his shoulder against Jeremy's and put his hand in his. Jeremy gripped his fingers and lifted their hands to stare at them. His face remained blank, except for a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.

They sat in silence until the man let out a soft sob. Tears ghosted his cheeks and stained his eyelashes. Michael held tight to his hands and pressed his lips to his forehead as Jeremy folded around him, crying.

The time spent on the kitchen floor with both of their tears and regrets felt like days.

"We can't keep this up," said Jeremy heavily. "It's stupid."

"Yeah," Michael agreed, unsure exactly which direction Jeremy was taking this.

"We both have a lot of baggage. But whatever is getting between us… We're better than that, Mikey."

"I know," he said.

They sat in silence a moment. Fear seemed to be the dominating emotion, mixing in a cocktail of adrenaline and certainty. They seemed at a standstill; touching innocently but not crossing the lines they'd had for so long.

Jeremy leaned his head against his temple and he sighed. The man's breath tickled his ear as he let out a small laugh.

"What the hell are you laughing about?" Michael chuckled.

"Oh just… questions."

"Well ask away, dickhead. I'm pretty sure there aren't any answers you don't deserve at this point."

Michael was reminded of the first day when he'd sat at the table and let Jeremy ask him everything under the sun.

"I just… you're my guardian angel. You know me."

"Yeah," Michael said.

"It's just weird. You said you've seen my whole life… Is that everything?"

"Pretty much. Nothing too, um… private, if that's what you mean."

"Good to know," Jeremy laughed. "But I mean… All those years."

"You process time differently in the afterlife," Michael said. "Years feel a lot shorter. More like weeks, really."

"Huh. That's cool. That time I was almost raped in the alleyway on Halloween…"

"Scary day for me," Michael said.

"All those years, I remembered the wicked look in that guy's eyes and wondered what kept him from raping me."

"I did," Michael said softly. "Just… nudged him in the guilt a little. Even evil men have souls."

"Wow," said Jeremy.

"I made damn sure it snowed every winter too."

"You're too hard on yourself," Jeremy said softly. "I know you feel bad. But I could never hold anything that's happened to me against you."

"I wish I could forgive myself the way you forgive me," Michael said.

"Me too."

Everything weighing Jeremy down and holding him back fell through. He questioningly gazed into Michael's eyes a moment and kissed him. The softest touch of his mouth against his and he felt his pulse rush. He kept it innocent, gentle; and then rested his forehead against his.

"I love you," Michael breathed.

"Me too. More than you know," Jeremy said.

The smooth, hard edge of the razor was placed in his palm as Jeremy surrendered his last defenses. Michael threw it toward the trash can and hummed as it landed with a clink against something glass in the bin.

He shifted onto his knees and wrapped his hand around Michael's neck. Jeremy's long fingers were steady behind his ear. The tile floor was cool beneath his palms as he supported himself, all but straddling him. His thighs were solid against his legs; teasing but not too much to bear. The deep contact felt like the wave of a white flag. A truce.

Jeremy kissed him hard. Michael felt a low noise escape his throat as he parted his lips and fell deep into him. For the moment, he let go of the guilt that shackled him. He lost himself in the warmth of his skin and the surety in his pulse. It was like a high as he felt Jeremy's breath against his cheek. Not like being drunk—he was too aware of each sensation. He tasted the last traces of salty tears on his skin and leaned up to wrap his hands around his shoulders.

"Easy," he hummed warningly as Jeremy began to work his mouth across his jaw. He groaned softly as he suckled at a tender spot behind his ear. "Not too fast."

"Okay," Jeremy said gently, breath cool against the wet spot he'd created on his jaw. He checked his watch. "It's late."

"Yeah. You should get to bed," whispered Michael.

"Come with me," a wince crossed his eyes. "Not… Not like that. Nothing much. Just stay."

"Alright," Michael said, rising to his feet.

Jeremy lead him to the bedroom. Michael realized he'd never been in there. There were clothes on the floor, discarded sketches, and open books. Much like Jeremy himself, it was a poetic sort of disaster. He stripped his jeans off for the night and found himself feeling briefly awkward in his boxers.

The gray sheets were cool against his bare legs and Jeremy was warm. There was an odd intimacy in sleeping next to someone. It required letting your guard down completely. No more walls or defenses.

The distant rush of cars passing on the highway seemed so far away. No one could touch them here. There was the dependable rise and fall of Jeremy's chest beneath his arm; the gentle caress as he toyed his hair between his fingers; the secure contact in the way their bodies intertwined. He didn't know where he ended and Jeremy began anymore. He didn't want to.