With about a month left in this life where he is free, Sean still shows up to his job every day. Technically, if he is changing everything back after his birthday, he couldblow off work and bills, but working makes him proud. And his coworkers comment that grumpy-storm-cloud Sean is suddenly the office's beam of sunshine.

But besides work, Sean Diaz carpes-the-shitout of some diems.

In the mornings, he runs. He is woefully out-of-shape, but after a week, his lungs no longer scream "We want to die!" as his heart explodes, and he begins to feel that "runner's high" he would get in high school.

He visits art museums. One in particular, he visits three days in a row and literally sees everything in it, and it feels like completing a grand quest from one of the fantasy books he read as a kid.

He still gets high but intentionally, no longer to escape life but to savor it. His best time is a trip to the planetarium, where a presentation on constellations makes him feel like he is walking among the stars. And then he goes out to the balcony, stares out over the lights of the city and feels connected, like everything in life has meaning.

He splurges on a pair of skate shoes that he would have longed for in high school; back then, he settled for cheap pairs of Vans, since that is all Dad could afford. And he does not care if the shoes get messed up by puddles or daily life, so he wears the fuck out of them. Sean goes to a skate park, and after fifty minutes, popping his pinkie back into socket, and almost rolling his ankle, he lands a kickflip. Hells yeah.

When Misty Mice plays a show at a small club in downtown, Sean lets himself become part of the music as he sweats and dances against strangers as the thrashing guitars and drums wash over him. He almost texts Lyla about it . . . but remembers she, like Claire and Stephen, hate him for what happened at Daniel's graduation. But it's okay. In the other life, he is cool with all of them. He'll call Lyla, first thing, and then insist Daniel bring their grandparents for a visit. That one will work itself out.

But Sean does call Ellery. It starts as a message on social media to find out if the dude has the same number. Ellery is shocked to hear from him, and though the conversation starts awkwardly, rusty from years of neglecting their relationship, they end up talking for two hours because Ellery is Sean's oldest friend and some good things aren't taken away—they only disappear for a while.

Sean eats at his favorite restaurants and tips more than he can afford. He listens to his favorite albums and watches his favorite movies. He walks barefoot along the beach and howls, like he did on his first day after changing the past. Mostly, he lives the normal life that he yearned for from prison.

Obviously, a month isn't time for everything. But, as Sean goes to bed exhausted each night, he feels at peace.

And, after all that has happened before and knowing what will come next, every night of peace is priceless.

# # #

A few days before Sean leaves for Seattle to spend his twenty-sixth birthday with Dad, Toby comes over with sushi and a bottle of champagne. Toby is appalled Sean has never had champagne and refills Sean's red solo cup each time its empty, and Sean's head becomes bubbly like the drink. They eat the sushi while sitting on Sean's shitty futon, and after dinner, they make out. Shirts come off. Then pants. Boxers are pulled down as they stumble towards the bed.

On top of his sheets, Sean travels the familiar lines of Toby's body with fingertips and lips, delights at each touch that changes Toby's breath, savors the way Toby tastes.

Then Sean lies on his back and makes quiet murmurs as Toby's lips wrap around him. His brain floats from champagne and pleasure, and he smiles dumbly, watching Toby's head bob between his legs.

It's starting to feel real good when Toby wipes saliva from his lips then reaches under the bed for the shoebox Sean keeps on the floor. Toby pulls out a condom and a bottle of lubricant and says, "You ready to stick your candle in some cake, Birthday Boy?"

Sean rolls his eyes . . . but his teeth pull at his lower lip. Sean knew he and Toby would have sex tonight, and Sean has something to ask. But saying it aloud makes him feel . . . uneasy . . . So he watches his bruised pinkie twirl the sparse chest hair his lovers usually play with and asks, sheepishly, "Would it be alright if we, uh, did it the other way tonight?"

Toby's eyebrow creeps to his forehead. He sits up on his knees, and Sean's eyes fall to Toby's hard-on, framed by the stars tattooed on Toby's thighs. "What do you mean?" Toby asks.

Ugh. Toby must know what Sean means, and Sean turns, stares at the empty bottle of champagne by the futon. Maybe I'm ruining the moment. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up.

"Hey, don't do this—don't get quiet on me," Toby says gently and lies down, running a smooth palm over Sean's chest, then stomach, then stopping just above Sean's pelvis so that Sean's breath catches in his throat. "Tell me what you wanted, Sean. Use your words."

"Okay, you know how when we, like, do sex . . . not with our mouths, but . . . the other way with lube and condoms. . . " Sean squeezes his eyes shut. Although Toby is curled up against him and blood is throbbing in his lower half, he mostly feels his own fingernails biting into his forearm. "Usually, I do you, but tonight I was wondering . . . if you could do me."

"Oh?" Toby says. "Oh!"

"Yeah . . . "

Toby grins. "So you want me to fuck you in your 'boy pussy'?"

"Oh my god, please don't call it that," Sean says, pressing his palms against his eyes.

Toby laughs, and Sean's maybe-boyfriend kisses his neck with warm lips then pulls Sean's hands from his eyes. "Is there a reason you want to do this tonight?"

And the question makes Sean's heart ache because he has an answer that he can't put into words Toby would understand. So instead, Sean shrugs and says, "I just want to."

Toby says that's good enough and tells him to go clean up so they can "do this right."

Sean can count on one hand the number of times he has been penetrated—he and Toby have done it like this before—and as he cleans himself in the bathroom, he feels hot with embarrassment, and that discomfort is the reason he rarely asks for this and exactly why he asked for it tonight.

Because this is his last night with Toby.

And his last night to be with someone for a long time.

And he needs to feel it. Being penetrated makes him feel vulnerable. And that is exactly what he wants right now, raw, naked vulnerability because he doesn't get to be vulnerable again after next week. Not for a while. And maybe prison will break him, leave him so calloused and scarred that he'll never open up to anyone again. And it sucks that he cannot explain that to Toby, that he wants to feel because soon he has to go back to being numb.

When Sean emerges from the bathroom, staring at his toes, Toby hugs him, and Sean apologizes for trembling, for being nervous. Toby says it is okay. Smiles. Kisses Sean's head. Seems to find Sean's awkwardness charming instead of annoying. Toby reassures him that they will go slow, so Sean lies in bed on his stomach, and Toby massages Sean's back, whispers, "You're safe. You're okay."

You're safe. You're okay.

Over and over.

It sounds like a foreign language after everything. But Toby keeps repeating it, his touch firm-yet-gentle on Sean's shoulders until finally Sean believes it.

I'm safe. And I'm okay.

He closes his eyes. And relaxes.

Then Toby uses his tongue in a way Toby has never used his tongue before, and Sean's body shifts both from the surprise of it and how much it likes being touched like that. Toby lets out a small laugh, and he keeps going as Sean whimpers into his bed sheets and pulls a pillow over his head, somehow extremely self-conscious but not wanting Toby to stop.

And after Sean's body is sending so much electricity through him that he shudders at each touch, Toby lies down on his back and takes the pillow from Sean's head. He smiles, and Sean smiles back, as Toby unwraps the condom and puts it on.

Sean lowers himself onto Toby's hips, and it takes a moment for the dull ache that flows through Sean's insides to feel good. But it does feel good. Intensely so. At first, Sean goes slow, but as those good feelings flood his body, he gives up control, let's Toby takeover. Sean sets his hands on Toby's shoulder to keep from doubling over. He tries to talk, but all he can do is babble.

It's almost overwhelming. But as every nerve in his body lights up, Sean tries to take all of it in. Every low moan. The way Toby's grip tightens on his hips. Every sensation. Even the smell of their sweat.

Because this is the last time, and Sean wants to experience all of it.

After Toby climaxes and finishes Sean with his hand, they clean up and lie back down together on the bed, giggling.

"You made some interesting noises," Toby says, grinning.

"Shut up," Sean laughs. "You make noises too."

"My noises are masculine grunts, though," Toby says. "You say 'oy' in this high-pitched mouse squeak."

Sean's face burns, and he almost 'oh gods' his way back under the pillow, but Toby adds, "I like the noises you make. They're cute like everything else about you."

And Sean sighs as his sparse chest hair is twirled by Toby's fingers, and the warmth of Toby's brown eyes makes him feel safe. And okay. It's funny. Toby was the first person he spoke to in this new life, and next week they will be . . .

Well, "they" won't be.

"Do you believe in alternate realities?" Sean asks.

"You mean like when Biff gets the almanac in Back to the Future Part II?"

"Yeah, like that. What if you met a version of me, one from an alternate timeline. Let's say I only had one eye. Would you still think I was cute?"

Toby laughs. Covers up his own eye. Arghs like a pirate.

"For real, though," Sean says, trying not to sound desperate. "If we had never met, and I showed up on your doorstep, thirty-years-old, glass eye, just out of prison—do you think you would still like me?"

"What is with this grim-dark, 'edgy' version of Sean?" Toby asks. "What could possibly happen to your sad ass to make you so hardcore?"

"People's lives can change in an instant, Toby. It only takes one bad day. And I just wonder . . . in this hypothetical, what if I had one bad day that spiraled out into fifteen years of bullshit. I know you wouldn't know me if I showed up on your doorstep, but . . . do you think you would give me a chance?"

"Oh shit, I wasn't thinking" Toby says. "I'm sorry, Sean. I didn't—is this about your brother?"

Kind of. In the way everything is about his brother. "It's about . . . the Diaz brother that went to prison," Sean says. "I just wanted him to have a good life."

"It's not your fault, what happened with Daniel," Toby says, pulling him into a hug. "But I gave you a chance when you were a self-absorbed shithead in college, and that worked out for me. Maybe I could give this Rob Liefeld-assed, alternate-reality Sean a chance too."

They cuddle after that, not talking about anything in particular—cartoons and movies and shit, mostly. But Sean knows that what Toby said, about giving one-eyed, fresh-out-of-prison Sean a chance isn't true. It's dumb to think Toby would wait for him . . . especially in a life where Toby does not even know him. But what they did just now was so intimate, and a week from today, Toby will be a stranger and Sean will be cold and embraced by concrete and metal bars instead of this dork's boney arms and nobody will touch him, not with gentle kindness anyway, and if Sean is vulnerable people might hurt him and . . . and . . .

Soundtrack: "Rivers and Roads"

by The Head and the Heart

Sean sobs.

They're in the middle of debating if Sokka or Zuko is hotter in Avatar: The Last Air Bender, and like his father did in the wing restaurant, Sean holds up a hand. Says it's nothing. But a second sob rocks his body, and then he is crying into Toby's collarbone, Toby shushing him like the big, stupid baby Sean is.

"I'm sorry," Sean says, wiping his eyes with his fingers.

"It's okay," Toby says cautiously.

"I don't know why you put up with me," Sean says. "I know I'm hard to love."

"Dude, you are, like, the easiest person to love," Toby says.

"You don't have to bullshit me to make me feel better," Sean says.

"Honestly? You're not always the easiest person to be in a relationship with, but you are not that shithead I hooked up with in college anymore. You are kind without thinking about it. You notice things others don't, and you love people with this quiet intensity. You never half-ass things. Like, you work harder than anyone I know. And you are adorable." Toby's thumb grazes Sean's cheek. "I know you are going through a lot with your brother, and the fact that you keep it together—most people who aren't you would break. This whole time I have known you, you have always sucked at seeing yourself the way other people see you. Everyone loves you. And I te amo you."

"Tu español es muy malo," Sean laughs. "But thanks. For saying all that. Te amo también."

Toby sucks on his lipring for a moment, like he does when he's thinking. When he has something important to say.

"What's up, Toby?" Sean asks.

"It's nothing," Toby says, ominously.

# # #

Toby's breathing shifts as he dozes off. And for the first time in a month, Sean feels exhausted but not peaceful as he lies in bed. Goodbyes are hard, especially when you cannot tell your not-really boyfriend that this is goodbye. Since he talked to Max, whenever he does feel down, Sean flips through photos and old videos he has saved on his phone, studying them like he can burn their images into his brain because in that other life, he only has memories.

Sean has too many regrets to rank, but tossing his cell phone full of pictures and videos of his friends and family is high up there.

He puts in a pair of earbuds and pulls up a video from a Christmas over a decade ago.

In the video, Dad calls Daniel into the room. Daniel is small and his eyes light up when Dad hands him one more Christmas present, says Daniel has been "good" this year (Daniel was not good that year). Daniel excitedly rips open the package, and the crushing disappointment on the kid's face when it's only socks and underwear—Sean laughs in the video and in his bed.

Toby stretches and blinks in the cellphone's dim glow. "What are you watching?" he asks dreamily.

"Shit. Sorry," Sean says, pausing the video. "It's . . . a video of my brother getting his PlayBox for Christmas. When we were both still kids."

Without a word, Toby squeezes Sean's hand. So Sean squeezes back.

"Hey, Toby," Sean says, "what were you wanting to say to me earlier?"

"This isn't the best time," Toby says.

"There's never a 'best time,'" Sean says, eying his Dad and brother on the phone's screen.

Toby sits up, hugs his bare knees to his chest. "Well, I, uh, need to talk to you about something."

And Sean's heart stops. Toby's tone—this is a serious conversation. And Sean knows he is about to get dumped. Which, maybe it doesn't matter, he's bailing on this life anyway next week, but, shit, he wanted to leave everything in a good place. Be able to pretend good things are out there for him, even if he doesn't have them.

"So the last few times I stayed over," Toby says, "leaving your apartment in the morning didn't feel right. Like, I don't think I want to leave your apartment in the morning anymore."

Yeah, this definitely sounds like a we-should-stop-sleeping-together conversation. Fuck.

"So I was wondering," Toby says, "if you would want to move in together?"

"What?"

"It's okay if you need time to think. I wanted to bring it up when I moved to LA, but everything was going on with your brother, and I didn't want to be one more thing and—"

"Toby, I would love to move in with you," Sean says.

"But?"

But I'm going back to serving a prison sentence next week, Sean thinks. However, he says, "There's no but."

Toby lunges at him, wraps Sean in a hug. He babbles about how long he has wanted to bring this up and how together they can afford to live in an apartment that doesn't suck and how he can finally stock Sean's bathroom with lotion and real shampoo and conditioner instead of the shitty two-in-one stuff Sean cheaps out on.

And, sure, this is not going to happen. Good things like moving in with his boyfriend don't actually happen to Sean Diaz.

But Sean Diaz is trying to accept that he deserves them, so for now, he pretends this will work out.

And who knows? Maybe one day, a lifetime from now, something actually will.

"Anyway," Toby says, after he is done rambling about moving in together, "can I watch the rest of your video with you?"

Sean chews on the inside of his lip. This is the video he watched at the motel, after calling Lyla, after meeting Brodie, after getting fucking kidnapped by Hank fucking Stamper. When he realized he was no longer a kid. That he had to look out for Daniel. That it was all on him.

At that point in his life, he had never felt more alone.

But before Sean can answer, Toby takes one of the ear buds and places it in his ear. He lays his head on Sean's shoulder, and Sean hits play, and they watch the joy in Daniel's face as he realizes there is a PlayBox beneath all of the disappointment.


rivers and roads

rivers and roads

rivers til i reach you

rivers and roads

rivers and roads

rivers til i reach you