Unquiet (27 page)

They went shopping, bickering amicably over furniture choices and the color of the guest bath towels. It was… it was normal, and Eliot took a quiet joy in it. Loren had bought him a small messenger bag of his own, and they sat down one evening and sorted Eliot’s meds into small reminder containers, storing them in Eliot’s new bag so he’d always have them on hand no matter where they were. Eliot’s watch would beep, and he would disappear into a bathroom stall or private corner and take the allotted dose with the bottle of water he always carried.

It was working, and it was all going to be all right. The side effects were small, but annoying—an occasional hand tremor, dry mouth, an increase in appetite. Eliot could tell he had gained weight, and when Loren nuzzled his face against Eliot’s abdomen one night after making love, Eliot brought it up.

“Would it matter to you if I got fat?” he asked. “Psychotropic meds are notorious for that, Loren.”

Loren lifted his head from Eliot’s stomach and gave him a reproving look. “I’m insulted that you even have to ask that, El,” he said. “I want you stable. That’s all that matters—your quality of life, not whether you have ripped abs or not.”

Eliot smiled, stroking his fingers over Loren’s fierce expression and smoothing it out. And then Loren continued, “But if it’s going to bother you to the point that it makes you not want to take your meds, let’s find a gym, hire you a personal trainer, sign you up for fitness classes, whatever it takes, baby. Don’t let this be a stumbling block, because no matter what, I will always desire
you
and not your abs.”

He kissed his way back up Eliot’s body and settled against the pillows, and Eliot put his head down on Loren’s shoulder, loving the way Loren pulled him close.

“I’d like to take you away somewhere this weekend,” Loren said quietly, running his hand up and down Eliot’s back. “Just the two of us. Spend some time together, get away from it all.”

Eliot pushed up on his elbow and looked down at him. “Really?” he asked. “What did you have in mind?”

“Wherever you want. San Diego, Vegas. I need to be back on Monday, but that gives us four days, including travel time.”

“I’ve never been anywhere, not really,” Eliot said, his voice wistful. “I told you about going to New York with that dude one time, but it’s not like that was a vacation. Drugged and crazy shit doesn’t count. Got an up close and personal tour of a holding cell, though. I
have
seen lots of those in my life.”

“No holding cells allowed on our vacation,” Loren teased, kissing Eliot’s temple. “Why don’t you sleep on it, baby, think about what you might want to do. We can just stay here if you want, but I thought it might be fun to go somewhere.”

Eliot flopped to his back, crossing his arms behind his head. “No, I definitely want to go somewhere. This might sound weird when you’re offering me the beach or Sin City, but how about the Grand Canyon? It’s one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and it’s in our state, after all.”

Loren propped himself up on some pillows and grabbed his iPad. “That’s perfect.”

Before long Loren had a hotel reservation all set for the next night, and he reached over and flipped the bedside lamp off, settling Eliot against his chest once more.

“I love falling asleep with you in my arms,” Loren whispered, and Eliot snuggled in, sliding one of his legs in between Loren’s and getting as close as he could possibly get.

When they woke the next morning, they packed an overnight bag and headed north on I-17. Eliot was amazed at the view out his window, craggy rocks and towering saguaro cactus eventually giving way to the pine trees of the Coconino National Forest.

In Flagstaff, they stopped for gas, and both of them shivered at the cold bite in the air. They ran by a sporting goods store to buy some fleece pullovers, and Eliot goofed off with a couple of plaid hunting caps, complete with fuzzy earflaps. He grinned at Loren, trying to keep the hat from falling forward into his eyes.

“You look about twelve years old,” Loren said drily. “That hat swallows you whole.”

As Loren reached out to take it off him, he stroked his thumb along Eliot’s cheek.

“I love to see you smile, to see you happy,” he whispered. He grabbed a simple knit cap and pulled it over Eliot’s head, fussing with it a minute before saying, “Much better.” Eliot scanned the room and, not seeing anyone, stretched up to give Loren a kiss.

Soon they were on the road again heading north, and Loren took Eliot’s hand, twining their fingers together and resting their joined hands on his knee. Eliot could sense Loren was turning something over in his mind, so he just waited.

“
Are
you happy, El?” Loren asked at last. “I’ve seen so many different incarnations of your moods, but I honestly don’t know if I’d recognize happiness in you.” His voice held a faint note of apology for asking, and Eliot glanced at him, surprised but pleased by Loren’s candor.

“I don’t know if I’d recognize happiness either, Loren,” he admitted, rubbing his thumb over the back of Loren’s hand when he threw Eliot a stricken look. “Hey, hey,” Eliot said reassuringly. “I don’t mean that the way it sounds.”

Eliot blew out a breath, thinking about how to explain this. Loren waited, but his lips were pressed together in a tight line, and Eliot squeezed his fingers.

“Usually when I wake up in the morning, I’m afraid,” he said, and Loren opened his mouth to speak but then didn’t say anything. Eliot glanced at him again, then continued, “I feel the craziness, the madness lurking, just waiting for me. It feels like it’s attached to me, that when I get out of bed, I’m dragging it with me. It’s always there, ready to pounce and swallow me up.”

“Oh, El,” Loren whispered.

Eliot stroked his hand. “And this morning when I woke up, I wasn’t afraid. I think that’s what it feels like to be happy. It’s enough for me.”

Loren didn’t say anything, but a lone tear slid down his cheek. Eliot reached up and wiped it away with his thumb, stroking Loren’s jaw tenderly.

“What’s the matter, honey?”

Just then the sign for a scenic lookout appeared, and Loren took the exit, parking the truck. He stared through the windshield, blinking fast, more tears welling up.

“The thought of you for all those years, waking up afraid,” he whispered brokenly. “And I wasn’t there, Eliot. I wasn’t there.” Eliot could see Loren’s throat working as he fought not to cry, and with a soft exclamation, Eliot opened his arms, gathering him close. He stroked Loren’s hair, feeling the hot wetness of tears against his neck.

“But you
were
there, Loren. Shhh,” he soothed.

When Loren calmed a little, Eliot pulled back and took Loren’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“I’ve been in a lot of therapy over the years, and they always ask me the same thing, what my best memories are, what memories do I have of feeling happy or safe. I’m supposed to bring them to mind when I’m stressed or scared or angry. It’s part of cognitive therapy, learning to readjust your thinking, to focus on good things and not negative things.”

Eliot caressed Loren’s face. “And Loren, there’s a lot I don’t remember, but what I do, every single one of those types of memories is about you. Being kids, riding our bikes, playing with toys, laughing at stupid jokes. Then later the way you held me in the dark after a nightmare or sat with me when I was so sad and hurting that I wanted to die. The way you… the way you
loved
me, loved my batshit crazy and fucked-up mess.

“You’ve
always
been with me, Loren, through my memories. Always.”

Loren lost it then, and Eliot let him cry it out, murmuring to him, rocking him, reveling in being the one to comfort, to soothe, of being able to shore up the man he loved when he needed it.

Finally the storm passed and Loren pulled away, sitting up and scrubbing his hands over his face.

“I’m glad, El,” he rasped, clearing his throat several times before starting the truck and pulling back onto the interstate. “I’m glad I’m your best memories.”

“SO MUCH
for it being just a big ditch in the ground, huh?” Eliot’s voice was dry, teasing, and Loren made an effort to snap his mouth shut as he took in the sheer vastness and indescribable beauty of the Grand Canyon.

It was truly awe-inspiring, a kaleidoscope of colors and layers stretching as far as the eye could see. Far below them the Colorado River winked in the sunlight, and the wind that swept up from the depths was crisp and bracing, some of the freshest air Loren had ever smelled. It was cold out, and a light covering of snow on the ground crunched under their feet. As he gazed out over the Canyon, Loren felt so small, so insignificant next to it all, but he knew he’d never forget his first sight of this most wonderful of the Seven Wonders.

“I—I stand corrected,” Loren replied. “Wow. Just wow.”

Because of the cold and snow there weren’t a lot of people around, and as they walked up to the edge of the lookout, Loren watched Eliot closely, fiercely glad for the protective guardrail that ringed them.

They didn’t know if it was the altitude affecting how he metabolized his meds or what, but earlier, after Eliot’s morning dose, he found that he was shakier than usual, actually walking into the walls of their hotel room a couple of times because of severe double vision.

Loren didn’t want to hover or show pity, but seeing Eliot pale and sweaty with nausea, unable to walk straight, his hands trembling like he had palsy, broke his heart. Eliot tried his best to reassure him, saying, “This is nothing worse than anything else I’ve experienced over the years. It’s ugly, but it’ll pass, honey. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

They took breakfast in their suite rather than try and face a public restaurant with Eliot in this condition. When room service arrived, Loren’s first thought was to take Eliot’s plate and cut his omelet into small bites to make it easier for him to manage, but he forced himself to step away and let Eliot deal with it. Donovan had cautioned him against infantilizing Eliot, warning Loren that doing so would make Eliot begin to resent him.

“Don’t take his dignity away, Loren,” Donovan had said. “It’s horrifying to see the one you love struggle like that, but that’s a reality of life with these types of meds. Reward him for putting himself through it by letting him keep his pride.”

Loren held Donovan’s warning in mind as he watched Eliot struggle through his breakfast. He kept the conversation light, patiently waiting for Eliot’s responses, not looking away from him, yet not acknowledging he’d noticed Eliot spilling every third bite into his lap. Once, when he reached for his glass of orange juice and knocked it over, Loren just grabbed some extra napkins and sopped up the mess, refilling Eliot’s glass without a word.

At last the symptoms settled down as Eliot said they would, and they’d ventured out to do some sightseeing. Eliot’s hands only held a faint tremor now as he rested them on the guardrail and looked down at the ribbon of river thousands of feet below them.

“It’s so beautiful, so seductive,” he said in awe. “I feel like I could jump off the edge and fly to the other side like an eagle.”

Loren resisted the urge to reprimand him for that sort of talk, knowing Eliot wasn’t expressing a suicidal ideation, but a fantasy, a feeling of wanting to soar above the vastness. Still, Loren stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Eliot’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. “I’m cold, warm me up,” he whispered, and Eliot leaned back against him, a reassuring, solid weight in Loren’s arms.

Eventually the cold wind drove them from the lookout, and Loren found a trail that wound along the edge of the rim, shielded from the wind by the tall trees. They wandered down it a little ways, hands entwined, exclaiming over the beauty of each new vantage point they came across. The rest of the day passed in the same vein as they explored, finally heading back to the visitor’s center to take in some of the nature talks from the Park Service rangers and then spending a pleasant few hours in the various gift shops looking for the perfect souvenir.

Loren loved Eliot’s quiet enjoyment of everything they saw and did, and after a lovely intimate dinner in the hotel’s restaurant, they sat out on their balcony and looked up into a night sky so clear, so vast, that Loren could see satellites passing overhead.

“I’ve never seen the stars look like that,” Eliot exclaimed. “So many of them, like a blanket of stars covering us. Imagine being pioneers and stumbling across all this.”

“I would have shit myself, coming through the trees only to see that epic ditch at my feet,” Loren teased, warmed by Eliot’s snort of laughter.

Eliot finished his hot tea and set his mug down on the small table next to where he was curled up in a chair.

“No matter what happens, I’ll never forget this weekend, Loren,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt so—so normal. So accepted for who I am. Thank you.”

Loren stood and pulled Eliot to his feet and into his arms, cupping his cheek and stroking his thumb over Eliot’s bottom lip. “And I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel that way, baby,” he said in a gentle voice. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever had.”

He lifted Eliot’s chin and kissed him, then took his hand and led him inside their suite.

“I’ve always wanted to make love in front of a fire,” Loren whispered, resting his hands on Eliot’s hips. Eliot held Loren’s eyes as he slowly undressed himself, then Loren. They sank to their knees on the soft rug, kissing, roaming hands everywhere.

Loren would never forget the sight of Eliot on top of him, his flawless pale skin glowing in the firelight. He took Loren deep inside, his hands braced on Loren’s chest as he moved, his head thrown back, his mouth slack with pleasure. His dick was only half-hard, but that didn’t matter anymore, and all Loren saw was Eliot’s incredible strength and bravery, his beauty and grace. Loren felt choked with emotion, like he couldn’t breathe.

He jackknifed up into a sitting position, wrapping Eliot up in his arms as he gasped into his ear, “I love you, Eliot Devlin. I love you so fucking much.”