Platonic (6 page)

“Yet here you are, with your perfect, tight little ass, saving me from myself.”

Mark pulls a face and rolls his eyes.

“So why the mess?”

Mark figures he can bear to tell a little more of the story, but doesn’t admit to himself how much he’s enjoying Patrick’s attention.

***

There was a day, months after the letter arrived and months before Daniel left, that was just Mark and Daniel and Daniel’s bed and the joys of discovering just what their bodies could do. They were slow to begin touching when they first started dating, so focussed instead on kissing for long enough to feel it in their bones, but Mark knew that soon he wouldn’t even be able to hold this boy’s hand. So on that day he pushed boundaries a little harder than he usually did, concentrating on remembering everything, eliciting as much and as many responses as he possibly could.

Daniel, he thought, hadn’t noticed the coming change. Daniel just seemed happy to be naked and feeling so good and blissed out that the awkwardness and newness didn’t matter; he was only marginally self-conscious and had quickly discovered that whatever he wanted to take from Mark’s body, Mark would happily give to him.

Afterward, they lay in bed while Daniel talked about New York and the people he thought would be his roommates because they were all headed for the residence halls, which were like buildings full of artists in the heart of the city.

Daniel sighed happily, and Mark felt cool toes scrunching up against his thighs. “I already have so many people and places to introduce you to when you get there.”

Mark tugged him closer where they lay, all skin and stickiness, and he didn’t mean for Daniel to see his eyes flicker and his throat work as he swallowed. But he knew Daniel had seen for a half-second, and so his smile when he matched Daniel’s grin was extra bright.

We are going to do this.
We’re forever
.

Mark knew Daniel could feel his hands heavy and tight on him, and he wondered if Daniel could feel the murkiness just beneath everything, could hear the phantom screaming that something was wrong.

Daniel stared right at him, his smile dropping away as he carefully spoke, clearly hoping it was the right thing to say: “You know I’m going to wait for you. It’s going to be so much better when you’re there with me.” And he was watching, not blinking, so he couldn’t miss Mark’s reaction.

For that split second before he collected himself and slid a smile into place, Mark couldn’t hide the sharp twist of bitterness and terror in his belly. The look on Daniel’s face ripped at his heart, and months of hiding the pangs of discontent were suddenly undone. In that moment Mark knew Daniel, who knew him so well, could guess just how upset he was even if he could never understand it. Now Daniel’s face mirrored the worry and hurt.

Daniel whispered, “Mark.” He looked terrified.

But Mark smiled more strongly, knowing nothing he could say would be worth saying, and hugged Daniel close, kissing his cheek affectionately and sounding sure when he said: “We are forever. I’m just going to miss you is all.”

***

“Holy shit.” By now Patrick is cooking: bacon, eggs and mushrooms that smell delicious. The story has slowed and Mark keeps getting lost in the retelling, biting his lip as he tries to remember the exact day of the week when things happened, the weather. Patrick hasn’t objected, has just slipped quietly to his feet and started to cook while Mark looks elsewhere and slouches deeper into the couch.

“What?” Mark tries to keep the tension out of his voice. It’s been so many years since Daniel, and he knows he should be able to tell the story with fewer words and fewer feelings. He looks across at Patrick and then stands up and makes his way toward the stools near the kitchen counter to get closer to him, to try to read his face. “What?” he asks again. Patrick is just staring at the eggs and frowning.

Slowly, Patrick looks up, and his expression shifts into a smirk. “You broke up because you suck at asking for what you want.”

“We didn’t break up.”

Patrick shakes his head and goes back to cooking, choosing not to dignify that with further questioning. “I’m just saying—I’m calling it now—I don’t know shit about Daniel, but I know you pretty well, and you do not ask for the things you want. Not in bed, not at restaurants, not when I’m getting in the shower and I turn the TV on for you and ask you what channel you wanna watch. You just say you don’t mind even when you clearly do.” He plucks a mushroom from the stove and eats it. “It’s because of your dad.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about that.”

“Well, you should. Is that why it went to shit?”

Mark doesn’t want to admit it, but having thought so much about the breakup he knows exactly where it went wrong; and Patrick—ever-quick, ever-clever Patrick—has hit the nail on the head.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got to ask for things when you need them. And in a relationship you’ve got to ask for things you want at least half the time.”

“I hardly think you—”

“Am I wrong?”

Mark sighs and sips coffee from the cup Patrick has given him. He isn’t about to argue with Patrick, but he’s pretty sure Patrick is underestimating the complexity of romantic relationships entirely. “Anyway…”

***

The night before Daniel left for New York, Mark stayed over. They were both too quiet and too sad as they ate dinner with Greg and Molly and they held hands as tightly and as often as they could.

It was stupid, really. It was only going to be a few months apart, at worst, and they would have all the contact they could want emotionally, just not physically. And it was hardly as if their relationship was based on sex. They loved each other. They were overreacting.

Daniel’s door closed, and before Mark could mumble a word, could even think about how impossible it would be to try to have sex while he felt like this, Daniel was crying with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, the roundness of his cheeks and his chin wobbling.

It’s so stupid. It’s only a few months.

But Mark pulled Daniel to his chest anyway and didn’t say it was stupid, just let his heart break and his shoulders shudder as he felt the pain rip through him. Right now it had nothing to do with losing Daniel for a few unimportant months and everything to do with seeing him like this. Daniel burrowed his body and face into the warmth of Mark’s embrace, crying hard but quietly, sniffling and drawing sharp breaths as his eyes continued to well up and he blinked away the tears dripping down his cheeks and into the material of Mark’s cotton shirt.

“I don’t want to go,” Daniel said.

Mark clicked his tongue against his bottom lip and steeled himself. “Don’t say that.”

When he’d stopped crying, Daniel said it again: “I don’t want to go.”

Shaking his head, Mark pushed Daniel back so they sat cross-legged across from each other on Daniel’s bed, their knees touching. Their hands were near enough to find each other but they didn’t touch. “Daniel, you want to go. It’s New York.”

Daniel stared at him, mouth opening and closing as though he wanted to say something. His eyes were still wet, and he looked miserable. “Do you want me to go?”

Mark didn’t even hesitate. “Of course I do. And I hate seeing you like this. You’re going to go to New York and it’s going to be fantastic,” Mark said, sounding certain and fierce. “And tonight is our last night together, and we should be making the most of it.”

Daniel slumped in on himself even farther and curled his arms around his waist as he shook his head minutely. His pain and regret was obvious and Mark knew that all Daniel wanted to say was that he had changed his mind, that he was staying in Illinois one more year, that he would work with his dad at the factory and maybe take some night classes and wait for Mark. Mark didn’t want to hear it, but he’d dreamed the conversation before, and the way Daniel shuddered and swallowed his breath made it seem suddenly so real. The idea had at first been a fantasy for Mark, somewhere to escape to, but the guilt of wanting that, of denying Daniel his chance, had crept in and made the fantasy turn sour. And now it was happening, except Mark wouldn’t let it; and Daniel wasn’t saying any of it out loud. Because he couldn’t. Because staying in Illinois for a year was just as stupid as leaving.

Then Mark was up on his knees, sliding both hands across Daniel’s cheeks and pulling him in for a heart-wrenching kiss, soft and slow and as though it was the last chance for a kiss like that, forever.

Daniel met him after a long second of fighting it, up on his knees pulling Mark’s shirt out of the back of his pants and pushing his fingertips into the dimples at the small of his back.

He moaned into Mark’s mouth and sucked on his top lip, and every little movement, every pull and push and frisson of electricity ached. Mark got him naked somehow. Then he stood at the end of the bed and watched Daniel with determined green eyes as he tugged his own shirt over his head and pulled his jeans down his legs along with his underwear and stepped out of them. He climbed back onto the bed, moving with practiced ease as Daniel rolled onto his back and waited for Mark to kiss over his heart and slide up and over him.

They stared at each other for too long, trying to gauge the tone of the night to come and the year beyond that. Then, Mark dropped gently and pressed skin to skin as he moved, spreading heaviness and heat and kisses along the line of Daniel’s neck.

That was when Daniel started crying again in soft little sniffles and caught breaths, his bottom lip shaking and tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. The sweat and the friction wasn’t nearly enough to make him forget, and Mark made a frustrated growling noise and pulled him in tighter.

One last time. One last time, he wanted. Before he let him go.

It didn’t work, and they ended up hugging the covers to themselves and staring across the distance of the pillows. “You’d think we were never going to see each other again,” Mark attempted to joke, but it was one of the truest things he had said in weeks.

“I’ll be back for Thanksgiving.”

You’ll call me every single day. You’ll try to make it seem like I’m there with you.

“I wish I’d waited for you,” Daniel said after a time. “We could have gone together in a year.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

Daniel began to speak, but Mark couldn’t stand it anymore.
“
Don’t. I hate seeing you like this. It’s stupid. This is…it’s a year. One year. It should be the best year. And it should be about New York and you and… and art. You’re going to
love
it.” He shushed Daniel again with a look and the tips of his fingers over his mouth.

“And stop saying you’ll call me every day. That you’ll tell me everything. This is your
dream
, Dan! Go out and meet people and do
everything
.” He gritted his teeth. “I never wanted to be the kind of person who held someone as amazing as you back. It’s not fair to either of us if you miss out on things because you feel obliged to miss me, to keep talking to me.”

“But—”

Mark shook his head and pressed his fingers harder over Daniel’s lips. “Promise me you’ll live like you’re not waiting for me to catch up.”

Daniel’s thoughts stuttered and it was plain from the look on his face that living like that had never occurred to him.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you ask me to forget you like that?”

Mark shrugged. “Because for a decade, maybe more, this has been all you wanted. And if I weren’t here, tying you down, you would be so happy instead of crying and saying you don’t want to go anymore. I know how brave you are. I know how much you want this. And it’s my fault that suddenly you don’t. I’m not going to let you be miserable because you left your boyfriend back in Illinois.”

Daniel’s mouth closed slowly and Mark finally pulled his fingers away. They both inched further apart, pulling the blankets up higher and tighter around themselves.

“What does that mean?” Daniel eventually asked, trying but failing to keep his voice even.

Mark was halfway through swallowing thickly when he understood what Daniel was asking and he choked around his answer. “No. Oh God,
no
—”

He was not breaking up with him, he didn’t mean that, but Daniel’s eyes were wide, his lips thin, as he tried to close himself off and not show his anger or his fear. Mark swallowed again and licked his lips. “What you’re thinking isn’t what I mean. Not at all. I’m not…”

Oh God, Daniel, I could never do that.

He steadied himself and reached out for Daniel, ignoring the flinch as he laid his hand, heavy and awkward, over Daniel’s arm.
“
I just don’t want you to be miserable. I want this to be the best year of your life.”

Mark’s words weren’t placating Daniel at all: His eyes were still wide, his mind racing behind them as he turned Mark’s words over again and again. His voice was sharp and accusing as he shook off Mark’s hand and snapped, “How is it going to be anything good if you’re not there?”

Mark scrambled. His heart ached because he was making it
worse
. “Look, no, you don’t understand—”
Worse
. “Daniel, please—”
Worse
. “I’m not saying…” Daniel flinched again, and Mark reached for him as Daniel’s gaze slipped around the room, searching out his clothes. “I’m saying—”

Daniel looked hard at him, just once, and then his eyes went back to a spot behind Mark on the wall. “What, Mark?” he snapped again.

Mark took a deep breath and then sucked in another, fighting down the hot twist in his stomach as it clawed up his throat. It reminded him of the panic attacks he used to have at debate competitions.

Another breath: “I’m saying, all I want is for you to be happy,” he stressed. “If that means you don’t call me for a few weeks because it hurts too much, so be it. If it means I have to keep up with your adventures along with everyone else by reading Facebook updates, then… so long as it is because you’re too busy having fun, I will be able to live with that. I can’t stand to think of you miserable.”