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Bourbon snapped out of sleep, sitting up fast, and his mind exploded in eight directions at once. Things weren’t right. The walls weren’t right, they were too close together, and the bed was all wrong, and the space around him felt open and constricted and it yawned around him, and it was dark, and he couldn’t figure out where he was or why he was there, and there was someone touching him, and he reached to the person, grabbing their arm hard, searching for clues, for anything. He realized he clung to his pillow in his other hand, and he was covered from the waist down with his blanket, and the bed felt wrong because he was on the floor. And the person… Bourbon relaxed his grip. His ears dropped, and he lowered his head. He pulled his legs up, resting his arms on his knees, and hid behind his shoulder.
“Hi,” Farly said. He had crouched down in front of Bourbon, his blue eyes watching his steadily. He wasn’t afraid, and Bourbon found he couldn’t look at him. Farly rubbed Bourbon’s shoulder. “You’re OK,” he said. “You’re OK.”
Bourbon nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry,” he said, his voice just over a hiss.
“It’s OK,” Farly said. They sat together a moment, Farly’s hand on Bourbon’s shoulder, not saying anything. Bourbon shuddered, the adrenaline shaking out of his system, and Farly moved his hand up, resting it where Bourbon’s neck met his body. Bourbon had missed that touch.
“Do you want to come in?” Farly asked.
Bourbon looked up at him. He hugged his knees and nodded. Farly stood and offered his hand. He was only dressed in his boxers, his usual sleeping clothes. Bourbon blushed. Any other time he would have consered that an invitation. He took Farly’s hand, and they closed themselves in his room.
They seperated. Bourbon moved away from the door, folding his arms across his stomach, and he hugged himself, not looking at Farly. The mutt leaned against the door, his arms folded, radiating all kinds of hurt and anger. Bourbon whimpered.
“Farly, I’m really sorry. All I’ve been thinking about since the party is you. I was stupid and I feel really bad and-”
Farly placed his hand over Bourbon’s mouth. “Stop.” He drew his hand back. “You really hurt me.”
“I know, and I didn’t mean for the group at to party to be that-”
Farly did it again. “No. You. You really hurt me.”
Bourbon looked away. He started shaking again, and more than ever, he wanted to die. And he knew he didn’t deserve a quick death, like getting hit by a subway or bus, but something slow. Lava, maybe. Lava was probably best. It took all his strength to keep from breaking down.
“I can take being made fun of,” Farly continued. “That, I’m used to. And it’s not like those people haven’t been mean to me before. It was the promise.” Farly sat down on his bed. “I trusted you.”
Bourbon slid down the wall until he was on the floor. He couldn’t stop shaking. He held his head in his hands and stared at a spot between his feet. “I’m sorry,” he managed to force out.
There was movement above him. Farly sat down next to Bourbon, and rubbed his back, moving his hand in slow, comforting circles. He kissed Bourbon’s neck, and rested his head on his shoulder.
“I know,” Farly said. “I don’t want you hurting yourself like that. That was the promise. And when you hurt yourself, you hurt me.” He circled his arms around Bourbon and pulled him close. Dark lines streaked down Bourbon’s face. He didn’t look at Farly. When Farly brushed the tears from his face, he closed his eyes.
“I love you,” Farly said. Bourbon nodded.
“I love you, too.” He couldn’t make himself say it louder than a whisper. He fidgeted, then fell forward, hugging Farly tightly. Farly held him close, burying his nose in Bourbon’s soft headfur. Bourbon wished the day could end there. He squeezed tighter. For a moment, the room was still. Bourbon could have stayed like that all day. Farly pushed him up, and he placed a meditative kiss on Bourbon’s mouth. Farly smiled a soft, relieved smile when they broke away.
“Farly…” Bourbon said, finally looking at him. “You’re hurt.” He brushed his hand over the mutt’s face.
“It’s nothing,” Farly said. He turned away a little, away from Bourbon’s touch.
“I should have been there.”
Farly shrugged. He climbed back into bed and pulled Bourbon up with him. “It’s not your fault.” He kiss Bourbon again, longer this time. They snuggled against each other, holding each other close, and they dozed until the sun lit the city.
[g]
