Finding Eden (17 page)

* * * * *

“You didn’t tell me he was an abuse survivor.”

Danny worked on cutting the onions in front of him as his eyes stung. This whole cooking thing was harder than his mother made it look. It didn’t help that the room was swimming from the level of his exhaustion.

“I thought it was obvious,” Danny said when he realized Jason was waiting for a response. “I figured the little episode the other night screamed
issues
as far as Paul was concerned. Why?”

“Just…” Jason started, seeming to choose his words wisely before he finally sighed. “No reason, I guess.”

“Shit!” Danny shouted, throwing the knife into the sink in fury when he cut his finger. He sucked on it, wincing over the sting from the cut mixing with onion juice and then leaned back against the counter. He rubbed the palms of his hands against his stinging eyes. “Why can’t I—” Danny gasped, feeling as if he’d just blinded himself when the onion juice ended up in his eyes. “Motherfucker!”

“Flush your eyes out.” Jason jumped out of the chair at the kitchen table to come to Danny’s side. He ran the water as Danny leaned over the sink, his eyes watering. “It’s just a little onion. It won’t kill you.”

“Suck me,” Danny growled, wanting to lash out as an outlet while he worked on flushing his eyes out as Jason suggested. “I can’t make this soup. I can’t even cut the fucking onions.”

“What kind of soup is it?”

“
Caldo Gallego
,” Danny said, still trying to flush out his eyes. “My mom says it cures anything.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Green soup,” Danny simplified for him. “Collard greens, beans, ham—”

“Onions,” Jason offered, sounding amused.

“Yeah, and fucking onions. It’s good. If I could make it, you’d like it. I should’ve picked her up and had her make it. I just didn’t want her to see Paul. She loves him. There’d be no way to keep her out of that room.” Danny finally stood and then pushed his hair off his forehead, the tips of it wet from the sink as his eyes continued to water and sting. “I guess I could have her make it at home and pick it up.”

“Is that your solution for everything?” Jason asked, raising his eyebrows at Danny. “Call your mother?”

“No, actually it isn’t,” Danny said, feeling too tired to bother being irritated by the accusation. “It’s really hard for me to do. I just know it makes me feel better when I’m sick or depressed. The soup, I mean.”

“Not your mother?”

“No.” Danny felt tears sting his eyes in a way that had nothing to do with the onions. He reached for the recipe his mama had written down for him, staring at it as the words swam. “Not my mother,” he lied.

“How old are you?” Jason pulled the recipe out of Danny’s hands and set it on the counter. Then he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He took out a bandage and worked on opening it. “And don’t lie to me.”

“You carry bandages in your wallet?” Danny asked, a smile tugging at his lips despite everything.

“Right next to the condoms,” Jason said, grabbing Danny’s hand and putting the bandage over his finger that he had forgotten was bleeding. “How old?”

“Oh,” Danny said, feeling as dazed as Paul for the moment. “I’m the same age as Paul. College just isn’t my thing. I hate teachers.”

“Okay.” Jason squeezed Danny’s injured hand softly once he finished bandaging it. “When was the last time you slept?”

“What?”

“Sleep? When was the last time you had some?” Jason repeated, raising his eyebrows as a sad smile tugged at his lips. “This place is showing vast improvement. I can tell you’ve been cleaning all weekend.”

“And I went to Ybor City with my mom,” Danny added, temporarily forgetting he left Paul with Jason for the outing. “She has credit at the Spanish market there. We had to use it because my father’s a controlling bastard.”

“Your mother’s Cuban?”

“Mmm,” Danny hummed, blinking at the floor, seeing the dirt on the floorboards. “I’m gonna get a job and fix the floor. I’m not asking him for the supplies. I’m doing it myself.”

“Not today, you’re not.” Jason pulled Danny away from the sink. “Have you slept in the last twenty-four hours?”

Danny shook his head, finding himself walking through the house with Jason, who had a firm grip on his elbow.

“The last forty-eight hours?”

“I dunno,” Danny admitted. “I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.” Jason opened the bedroom door and ushered Danny inside. “Take your shirt off.”

“Why?” Danny asked, tugging his shirt over his head rather than argue, the effort making him dizzy. “You want me to use the condom you got hiding next to the bandages?” He grinned as he tossed his shirt aside, seeing with satisfaction that Jason was staring. “You like to look at me. I’m hot, right?”

“Yes, you are.” Jason shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Now get into bed, doctor’s orders. It’s what
both
of you need.”

“Why?” Danny asked, pulling back and frowning at him. “I’m making soup.”

“You haven’t slept in days, you’re probably not eating and you’re dealing with an extreme case of shock. Unless you sleep, you’ll end up sick too and unable to help Paul, who, despite what he says, needs one person around he’s willing to let take care of him.” Jason fell down on his knees next to the bed. He brushed at Paul’s hair, feeling his forehead. “The calling card of every young stud. You think you’re invincible. It almost breaks my heart to ruin the illusion.”

Danny crawled into bed rather than argue because Paul was there and he was better than soup. He wrapped his arms around Paul, a sigh of relief bursting from the center of his chest as he savored the warm skin under his fingers. Danny pulled over two hundred pounds of muscle with him when he rolled onto his back, leaving Paul draped across his bare chest, his breath hot against his collarbone.

“You left me alone with Dr. Feelgood,” Paul mumbled. “Asshole.”

“Shut up.” Danny felt the tension leave his shoulders for the first time in what felt like years as Paul stayed where he was. Against his will, Danny remembered everything that happened as his fingers brushed against stitches on Paul’s lower back. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tears threatening again. “Go away,” he growled at Jason.

“Okay,” Paul whispered, making a futile attempt to get up.

“Not you, idiot.” Danny’s grip on him became vise-like. He purposely forgot about Paul’s injuries as he used his legs too, tangling himself up in his best friend. “I never want you to go, not again,” he choked, the words he struggled for two weeks trying to find suddenly there. “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry.”

Paul was silent for a moment before he ran a hand down Danny’s arm and then intertwined his fingers with his. “Ditto.”

That worked for both of them, and Danny fell asleep to the sound of Paul’s soft snores against his skin before Jason even had a chance to leave the room.

* * * * *

Still feeling hazy and not himself, waking up sprawled over a hard, male chest didn’t seem nearly as strange as it should to Paul. Even sick, and unnaturally cold, he knew it was Danny. He blocked out his father’s voice in his brain, the one that told him it was wrong to sleep with a man, let alone seek comfort from one. Paul buried his face in the curve of Danny’s neck, seeking warmth as his skin prickled with goose bumps.

“You’re burning up,” Danny mumbled in response to his snuggling. “I’ll getcha something.”

“I just need the blanket.” Paul tugged the blanket tangled around his waist higher, covering both of them with it. “This is good.”

“No, s’not good,” Danny argued in a voice heavy with sleep, making an attempt to untangle himself from Paul and the blankets. “Come on, I gotta find your medicine. Shit, I forgot what we did last, Tylenol or Motrin, and you need more antibiotics. Lemme up.”

“Don’t leave.” Paul slipped a hand under Danny’s back to hold him closer. Danny’s skin was cool against his, but Paul knew he’d be considerably colder alone in the bed. More than that, he enjoyed lying there with him. It reminded him of being tangled up with Eve after sex. The lazy feeling always let him taste the man he would have been if his childhood hadn’t fucked him up. Happy and content, with someone he trusted completely, Paul could pretend he had no problem letting another person love him without tensing up and feeling as if he might throw up. Telling himself he’d be stronger later, he breathed against Danny’s collarbone, “Stay with me… Please.”

Danny ceased his struggles, taking a shuddering breath as his head fell back heavily against the pillow. “Shit.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing he was hurting Danny. “I know I’m fucked up.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Danny’s fingers found their way into the hair at the nape of Paul’s neck. “Most of the people on this planet are fucked up in one way or another, you just do it better than most of ’em. What’s new?”

Paul laughed, feeling his heart swell in adoration for Danny. It would be nice to find a happily-ever-after with him. His chest hurt when he realized how truly impossible it was for them. “I wish I could be normal for you.”

Danny was silent for a moment before his fingers tightened in Paul’s hair. He tugged Paul’s head back, studying his face with hunger shining in his dark eyes. “You remember when you said some people like you for being different?”

“Yes,” he said, knowing his voice was soft without making a conscious effort to do it. “But you don’t—”

“I’m one of those people. I was just scared of being me. I’m still scared.”

Paul raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, as if confessing a dark secret. “I’m just—” He swallowed hard, looking away from Paul. “A total control freak, worse than my father could ever be. When I first started fucking guys, I tried being a bottom.”

Paul pulled a face. “I don’t want to hear about that.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Danny laughed at Paul still looking down at him in horror. “I tried telling myself it was only fair. I’d never have a real relationship if I couldn’t learn to give and take a little, you know? But Christ, some guy on top of me, fucking me…” Danny shuddered. “No way. Every time I tried it, I froze. Then I got angry. I wanted to punish them for even thinking about trying to own me like that.”

Paul licked his lips, looking down at Danny as the warm feeling of being enthralled rolled over him. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Punish them?”

“Not in the way you’re accustomed to, no.”

“What’d you do?”

Danny shrugged, avoiding Paul’s eyes again. “I fucked them instead and I wasn’t exactly gentle about it.”

“Did they enjoy it?” Paul asked curiously.

“Of course they enjoyed it,” Danny said, looking insulted. “I was angry, but I was still good. I’m
always
good.”

“Then what’s wrong with that?”

Danny gave him a look and spoke slowly. “I’m an asshole, Paul Guy.”

“Sometimes,” Paul agreed, letting his gaze run over Danny’s handsome face, seeing he hadn’t shaved in a long time and had dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes. “But there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re just different. There are people out there who would like you for being you. Love it even.”

Danny quirked an eyebrow as a smile tugged at his lips. “Know anyone like that?”

“I do, actually,” Paul said, feeling his heart hurt all over again as he looked away. “But he’s not good for you. This stupid fever is fucking up my thinking. Just tell me where the Tylenol is and I’ll take some.”

“I’m flattered,” Danny said, actually laughing at Paul. “But I don’t need you to decide what’s good for me or not and I wouldn’t exactly call you an authority on that subject in the first place.”

Paul felt his cheeks flame in a way that had nothing to do with the fever. “I hurt you.”

“I think we’re pretty even in that regard,” Danny said, his voice suddenly sharp. “And to be honest, if we never talk about it again I’d be okay with that.”

“Okay,” Paul said, more than happy to agree. “The fight never happened. I wouldn’t mind forgetting a few things myself.”

“Fine. Now get off me. You’re so hot I’m sweating my ass off. It’s like sleeping with a space heater.” Danny shoved Paul off him and crawled out of bed. “Lemme get your Tylenol.”

Paul watched him go, pulling the covers tighter over him, resisting the urge to tug them over his head like he did when he was little and sleep hidden from the world, as if the thin veil of material would protect him from life.

He looked to Danny instead, craning his neck to see him in the bathroom washing his hands before he reached into the medicine cabinet. He pulled out two bottles, opening them and pouring the pills into his open palm.

“Lemme get you some water.” Danny walked out of the bathroom to hand Paul the pills. “I’ll be right back.”

Paul held the pills, letting them get sticky in his hand as his eyes closed. With Danny gone, he gave into the weakness and tugged the blanket over his head. He started falling asleep almost instantly with the false feeling of security surrounding him.

“I never understood how you could sleep like that.” Danny sat back on the edge of the mattress and tugged the blanket away from Paul’s face. “Doesn’t it feel like you’re suffocating?”

“Mmm,” Paul agreed, sitting up and taking the cup of water from Danny. “Maybe I was always a kinky bastard. Sorta like breath play.”

“What’s breath play?”

“Don’t ask,” Paul said, taking the pills and downing all of the water, finding that he was extremely parched.

“I’ll ask Jason later.” Danny took the cup from Paul and set it on the floor. “Move over, it’s the middle of the night. No wonder I’m so fucking tired. Jason must have let himself out.”

“Don’t ask him what breath play is,” Paul said as he scooted over. “He already thinks we’re both head cases and I’d hate for that asshole to have more on us than he already does.”

Danny rolled up next to him so they were face-to-face in the semi-darkness. “What is it then?”

“It’s for people who get off on being choked, lack of oxygen.”

“You don’t—”

“No, it’s not my thing.” Paul felt too tried to think of something better and just said, “Saying that was just easier than admitting the truth.”