So this story actually wasn't supposed to have a second chapter, but I had someone specifically request this little addition because they wanted to see more of Asher and hear more about his story. I like writing Asher. Still not entirely caught up on the show but I hope so far the characters are accurate. There probably won't be a third chapter after this, unless of course I get another request. Thanks for reading :)
There was a soft knock on the wooden door to the bedroom, where the last few flickers of evening light cast dark shadows through the dimness. Though he didn't indicate to the knocker that they could enter, the handle turned and the door opened hesitantly. "Are you in prayer?" a quiet male voice murmured. The very idea of praying at this moment made Asher's blood boil. Prayer. How could he even dream of being in prayer right now? This supposed 'kind' and 'merciful' god just ripped the best part of the entire world away from earth—away from him. Asher shook his head but didn't look up. He heard his father step inside and approach his bed. "Scripture tells us that death is just a step closer to becoming more spiritual with God." he said, moving to put an arm around his son. But Asher pulled away with a shaky breath. He didn't want words from the scripture. He didn't want to pray. He didn't want to hear about how Izak was now better off because he was closer to God. Didn't his father understand that?
But Rabbi Wolke did seem to understand that Asher wasn't feeling very receptive to anything at this moment, because he dropped his arm and instead folded his hands in his lap. Asher kept his eyes cast downward and willed them to not let any tears fall—if he started crying, his father would want to try to comfort him, which would keep him in the room longer. He just wanted to be alone. "I know he was a close friend. Tomorrow morning at yeshiva you can move to a different chavrusa and study in a triplet. At least until another pair can be arranged." Rabbi Wolke said gently, reaching out yet again to Asher's back. At this point though, Asher wanted to scream. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs that finding another Torah study partner was the least of his concerns, that he couldn't even think about tomorrow, that no one could ever replace Izak. No one could ever replace Izak. Asher felt a squeezing bubble of sadness burst right in his chest, causing him to close his eyes and draw in a shivering breath. It was impossible not to cry at this point. He felt his father move a bit closer and wrap both arms around him now, pulling him into his chest. For a brief moment, it almost worked—Asher almost felt slightly comforted. A tiny part of him wanted to accept his father's embrace so he could just cry and sob and grieve and be honest about his emotions. The soft scent of spice mixed with cotton enveloped him with a familiar calm. How many times in his life had he been anxious, or cried about something, and immediately run into his father's arms for that compassionate embrace so that everything would be alright?
Why didn't it feel the same way now?
Asher turned his face away to hide the redness in his eyes as his father gently hushed him. "Hamakom y'nachem etchem b'tach sh'ar availai tziyon ee yerushalaim." he hummed softly into his son's hair. Asher felt his heart started to pound harder now—the anger was building yet again. He didn't want a blessing. He didn't want 'God and the mourners of zion' to comfort him. He didn't care to hear the Hebrew scriptures of loss. But just as he was about to nearly explode in rage, he felt the taller man release his hug and instead stroke the back of his head twice before he stood up from the side of the bed. "Mama will be in soon to put the children to bed. Your brothers and I will be in the study for tzais hakochavim at 7:52 for you to join us." he said softly. Asher followed him with his eyes as he stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. There was no way he was going to prayer later. No way. No one would make him. He had nothing to say to God—his brain felt so indescribably blinded by rage that if he opened his mouth to pray, only cries would come out. But he also didn't want to stay sitting here on the bed, because soon his younger siblings would be coming in to sleep and they would want to talk to him and play with him. He wished he could disappear. He wished that if he closed his eyes for long enough, he'd evaporate into the air.
Asher pulled his backpack open and took out his folded clothes from earlier so that he could add them to the pile of things to wash after that long shift at the hospital. He just wanted to shower at this point. The sun rays were beginning to peak through the blinds covering his window—how could it be morning and yet his workday be ending? It was at that realization that the overwhelming exhaustion began to overcome him. Asher went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower, waiting until steam hazed the air before he quickly shed out of his scrubs and stepped in. He'd told himself for so long to not bring this up anymore, to stop thinking so hard about something that couldn't and wouldn't change. Death was permanent. That's all there was to it. But recalling everything while talking to his patient bubbled up so, so much emotion. Just remembering the way Izak's face looked as he slipped into seizure after seizure brought on nausea. Asher drew a deep breath and quickly passed the washcloth over his shoulders a final time to get the last of the soap suds off. He turned the water off and wrapped himself in a towel, reaching for his phone on the sink as he stepped out of the shower. Please don't let there be any pages calling me back to work right now, he thought tiredly. But no, thankfully, just a message from a guy he'd been seeing occasionally. Asher let out a sigh. He slipped into some comfortable clothes and fell onto his bed.
Asher opened his phone absentmindedly, hoping to use it to maybe numb his racing brain from the whirlwind shift he'd just endured. He tapped on the unread message. 'I woke up thinking about you,' it read. He sighed. This guy had come over a few times before; they weren't exclusive, but they did enjoy the time they spent together otherwise. Before replying, Asher paused for a moment. He had pushed down the memory and feelings he'd had for Izak for so long—now that pandora's box had been opened and they were just as raw and refreshed as they were when he was a teenager, he had the chance to feel them all over again. Emotionally, and…possibly physically? Asher sat up on his bed and weighed his options. Maybe he could close his eyes and pretend he was with Izak. Maybe then he could feel like he finally got that chance to be with this person that existed only in his heart, in his memory. 'Come over please' he replied.
It did not take Tyler, the man Asher had been texting, long to arrive at the doorstep of the apartment. With the morning light behind him, he greeted Asher with a smile. "Good morning," he said. But Asher knew that the less talking there was, the better. He just wanted this. He just wanted to keep his focus on his memories. He pulled Tyler inside by taking his hand and letting the door fall shut as they began kissing and roaming their hands over one another's bodies. Asher let a soft sigh escape as Tyler lifted him up and wrapped his legs around his waist to carry him to the bedroom.
Asher smiled shyly as he felt Izak's fingers lay atop his on the grass. He quickly looked up and caught his eyes, causing both of their faces to blush. Izak cleared his throat softly. "I like being here with you," he murmured. "There's nothing to worry about—no Hebrew, no studies, no tzais prayers, no siblings…" Asher intertwined his fingers with the other boy's. He felt purely peaceful, just sitting here in front of this tiny pond with only the ducks and his favorite person. "Thank you for sneaking away with me," he replied. "I just wanted a place where I could kiss you whenever I wanted." Izak's soft giggle made something in Asher's stomach leap. He felt as if his actions weren't even his own as he reached over and put his hand gently behind Izak's head and pulled him in for a sweet kiss…
Asher gave a whimper at the feeling of Tyler's lips on his neck. He wasn't exactly sure when his shirt had come off, but he didn't complain as the kisses continued down to his collarbone. It had been years since he'd left home, since he decided not to follow the strict Halacha rules of Judaism, but even still he got a bit of a thrill when consciously making a decision that he knew would not technically be allowed. He put his arms over his head.
Izak was trembling. It made Asher feel slightly better though, because he was trembling too. It was late at night and they'd planned for weeks to not go directly home after school, but stay out and take their relationship a step further. So here they were, hiding out in a dark sidestreet outside of their neighborhood, wrapped in each other's arms, scared to death. "I-I'm not shaking because I'm afraid…" Asher reiterated to break the tension. "I-I'm just…just…cold." It was summer. There was no way to be cold. But Izak nodded in agreement absently anyway. They'd already cast off their kapota coats and were now facing one another with their cotton white shirts and tzitzit. It was understood mutually that once the tzitzit were removed, so was part of their purity and commitment to their faith life. Asher drew in a deep breath. He pulled the four-pointed garment over his head and held it for a moment before he dropped it onto his coat. Within just a moment or two, Izak followed suit. From there, they nervously worked at the buttons on one another's frock until their chests were exposed. Leaning in again, they kissed. But this time, they allowed themselves the thrill of letting their chests touch scandalously for the first time.
Asher let his head fall back as Tyler continued his ministrations. He squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to picture the little Manhattan apartment bedroom that he and Izak had planned to wake up in and do this together. He tried to put himself there. Asher coursed his fingers through Tyler's hair to tell him to keep going, earning a moan and a quick nip on the inner thigh. No. Izak wouldn't do that. That wouldn't be Izak's way. He'd be too timid for any biting or special attention. "Ah, gentle please." he whispered. He heard Tyler whisper a soft apology before returning to his original ministrations. Asher took a deep breath and tried to return his focus again.
Izak smiled as he reached towards the stroller for the baby's tiny outstretched hands. He and Asher and a few members of each of their families were visiting Manhattan for the morning that Sunday, and while waiting to cross the street, they'd met a woman with twin babies in a stroller. Of course, it prompted a conversation between her and Asher's mother, who'd also given birth to twins. But while the adults were talking, Izak and Asher were drawn to the baby who was reaching towards them in curiosity. As they bent down to interact, Izak whispered softly, so that only Asher could hear, "Someday you and I will have children of our own, and we will walk them in a stroller every day around the city—maybe even in Central Park!" Asher's face flushed and all he wanted to do in that moment was throw his arms around the boy and never let go. Just thinking about their plans for the future gave him hope. Brought him lightness and happiness in the dark, dull days spent sitting in yeshiva. Gave his mind somewhere to drift to during long Shabbat prayers and quiet Shabbos days. Provided a foundation for the dreams he would happily drift into after late nights of studies. Izak meant the world to him.
Asher aligned his breathing with Tyler's rhythm, keeping his mind focused on what this would be like if he'd been given the time to experience it with his true love. Izak would be gentle, timid, tender. Asher imagined having such a close connection with him during this moment. Like they were one. Izak would kiss him during this intimacy, whisper sweet things into his ear. He'd remind him of exactly why he loved him. Loved him. Izak would have loved him. Suddenly all of those other emotions that Asher had been trying to suppress came up again, and they weren't fitting into his mental picture of this time together. Tears were building. Tyler's breathing caught just in time as their time together came to a finish, giving Asher the distraction he needed to quickly wipe at his eyes before Tyler could see that he was becoming emotional. He immediately attempted to put on his satisfied face complete with sultry eyes as Tyler flopped down on the bed beside him. Suddenly the room felt very cold—Asher felt a chill climbing up him from his toes to his head. Whatever he was hoping he'd feel during this endeavor, it didn't happen. Nothing felt resolved. Nothing changed. Izak was still gone, Asher would never get this chance with him. "That was amazing," Tyler gasped from beside him. Once again, Asher bit his lip—that wouldn't be the first thing that Izak would say afterwards. He'd say something along the lines of, I love you, or, thank you for making that so special, or, let me help you get your .
Before Asher could realize it though, Tyler caught him. "Are you…wait, are you ok?" he asked, sitting up to brush tears off of Asher's cheeks. "Did I hurt you? Was…was it too rough? I thought you liked it a little rough. I'm sorry…" But Asher sat up too, frantically trying to wipe his face and play it off. "No, no." he murmured with an attempt to steady his voice. "No it was great. I just…I just had a long day at work. I'm sorry. I think I'm just…overtired. I guess I, ah, thought I was more awake and hyped than I actually was when I called you." Tyler let his hand rest on Asher's face for a moment as he studied him. A brief moment passed. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asked. Asher took a deep breath and nodded, trying to fake a quick smile too. "Just need to go to bed, I think." he replied. Tyler nodded and let go of his face as he reached down for his clothes again.
The pair dressed in silence, which wasn't unusual after one of their meetings; however this time the quiet was heavy. Asher stood up to walk Tyler to the door. But Tyler took his hand before they even left the bedroom. They just stood staring at the floor. Unable to look at one another. "Do you want me to stay?" Tyler finally whispered. Asher felt more tears coming—he absolutely didn't want to be alone right now, but that wasn't something he was ok with admitting to a casual partner. "Please let me stay," Tyler breathed. Another tense moment passed. This wasn't going to be a time to pretend; he could no longer act like this was a dream with Izak that he could just switch on and switch off whenever he wanted. Obviously that didn't work. He had to put all of the emotions, all of the grief, all of the false hope back into the mental box and move on once again. He'd done it once before, couldn't he do it again? Asher glanced up into Tyler's eyes and gave a nod. Without another word, Tyler led the way back over to the bed and pulled back the covers. As soon as Asher climbed back into the bed, he allowed himself to be covered up gently as his companion slid in beside him and put an arm around him.
Asher closed his eyes and this time instead of imagining the alternate reality that his heart craved, he allowed his mind to accept that life had once again taken him down another path. He'd been ok navigating on his own before, he could do it again.