Jonathan's Hope (2 page)

Of course, he couldn’t let Jonathan freeze to death out there. Of course, he had to welcome him to his home, help him. Of course...
It’s what Sean would’ve done!

Sean, I miss you so...

Dan could hear the shower being turned on, water splashing.

Jonathan seemed to be showering forever, or so it seemed to Dan as his curiosity was getting the better of him. When the young man emerged from the bedroom, wrapped in nothing but a large towel, Dan almost lost it. His jaw dropped.
He’s gorgeous.

Jonathan’s blond hair, thoroughly washed and combed, was hanging almost to his shoulders, his tall, thin frame pale, the faintest hints of muscles discernible underneath his skin, tiny dark nipples and not a hair on his chest.
Oh my god, he’s only a child...

“I borrowed your brush. I hope that’s okay, but my hair was a mess...” Jonathan smiled, shaking his head, causing his hair to partially cover his face, his green eyes. But he smiled, for the first time. “Thanks for allowing me to use your shower. I really needed it. Is it okay if I sit like this for a while before I put my clothes back on? It feels so nice to be clean, even if it’s only for a little while...” His voice trailed, not daring to ask Dan for any additional favors.

“I’m so sorry, I’m such a miserable host!” Dan practically jumped from his chair, dashing into the bedroom, rummaging his closet for something Jonathan might be able to wear. He was obviously way too thin for Dan’s clothes, but maybe some of Sean’s old stuff might do the trick.

He found a pair of shorts, some socks, a sweater and a pair of sweats that might fit the young man, boy. He quickly returned to the living room with the clothes under his arm. Jonathan was sitting down on the couch again, legs pulled up, the cup back in his hands, clutching it as if to extract extra warmth from it. The picture was heartwarming, stirring emotions in Dan he’d thought he’d long lost.

Goose bumps were forming on Jonathan’s arms, and Dan got worried that the boy was freezing. “Here, put these on. They might fit you. They are my...” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Jonathan glanced up at him, his eyes gleaming with thankfulness. Setting the cup back on the table, he took the clothes and trotted back to the bedroom. Reemerging a few instants later, dressed in Sean’s old clothes, he almost broke Dan’s heart all over again.

“Thank you, you are so kind,” Jonathan said, as he sat back down on the couch.

They sat quietly, watching the fire for a long time. Dan added more logs to it, while Jonathan sat curled up on the couch, cup still between his hands, as if it provided him some sense of security and comfort. They both looked into the fire, Dan not knowing what to say next, Jonathan not daring to say anything, afraid of being thrown back out into the cold. Yet there were so many things in the air.
What about his old clothes? Should I offer to wash them? They really need to be thrown away. Who is he? How old is he? Why is he here?

Dan’s mind was racing, his emotions in an uproar, Sean forgotten for the time being. His heart conflicted with the attraction to Jonathan yet unable to give in, given his young age.
I’m not into kids, after all. How old is he anyway?

How am I going to get out of this mess
, he wondered, but continued to stare into the fire.

“Go ahead, ask...” Jonathan whispered, his voice weak. Dan could hear the fear in his voice. He glanced over at his uninvited guest, and ended up looking straight into Jonathan’s green eyes. He noticed the desperation, the fear.
Fear of what? Me?

“Uh, I don’t know,” Dan started. “I don’t know what to ask really. I don’t want to pry...” His voice trailed once again, feeling ashamed for being so easy to read. It had always been Sean’s forte, to read his lover. He could sense Dan’s needs, questions, objections long before Dan was aware of them himself. It made their relationship so easy, so casual, like an old sweater, comfortable. Dan never had to pretend, couldn’t, as Sean would see right through it all...

“Is there anything you want me to know?” Dan asked, trying desperately to turn the tables, not wanting to appear insensitive. Obviously Jonathan was in distress. Why else would he have turned up at his door, looking, smelling, the way he did? But it wasn’t his place to ask, to pry.

Jonathan finally put the empty cup back on the coffee table and turned to Dan. “It’s a long story. I don’t even know where to start. I’m 17 years old, I used to live in the city with my parents. I was going to high school. Two weeks ago, we were out here in the forest. My parents have a cabin just off the main road. There was a fight, and they left me in the forest, alone. I started walking, trying to leave, but I got lost. I know it sounds stupid, but I just didn’t know what else to do, so I kept walking. When I started to get cold a couple days ago, I had already been lost for ten days, sleeping on the ground, trying to find shelter, eating moss and nuts from the larger pine trees. At least water wasn’t a problem. It was a pure coincidence that I noticed your house today, and when I saw the lights on, I...” Jonathan was fighting tears, clearly exhausted, desperate. Dan could see how irresistible the lights from a cabin might be in the current weather.

So young
, Dan thought. At the age of thirty-one, Dan had already seen his share of tragedy in life, but it still seemed to pale against what Jonathan had endured. He felt no need to press for more information, although it was pretty clear Jonathan hadn’t shared everything. He was keeping some things to himself.
His secrets.
“Do you want another hot chocolate? You must be hungry.” Dan felt like an idiot when he realized the subtext of what Jonathan had just told him.

A weak smile from the boy confirmed what he’d thought. “I’ll make you a sandwich. Do you eat meat?” Dan wondered.

“I’ll eat anything, thank you,” Jonathan responded weakly.

Dan got up and walked over to the kitchen to prepare the sandwich he’d just promised. He heard a thump from behind him and just caught Rascal jumping up into the sofa to lie down next to Jonathan. He was about to protest because he didn’t like the dog on the couch, but when he saw the dog’s head buried in the boy’s lap and Jonathan petting it, he couldn’t bring himself to utter a syllable. Instead, he got to work on the sandwich, knowing Jonathan must be starving. He made four of them, knowing that the boy would probably want more later. He poured another cup of hot chocolate, turned around and was about to invite Jonathan to the table when he noticed that the boy had fallen asleep, right there on the couch, with Rascal’s head still in his lap.

The picture of the boy sleeping so peacefully in his living room, in front of his fireplace brought tears to his eyes. He looked so beautiful, the whole scene so serene with Rascal on his best protective behavior.

Feeling his own fatigue tugging at him, Dan put the sandwiches on the coffee table, and turned off the kitchen lights.
Thank god for electricity,
he thought, remembering the oil lamps of their early days out there.

He crossed the few steps back into the living room, trying to avoid making the wooden planks of his floor screech, and picked up a blanket that was casually tossed over his rocking chair. He unfolded it and spread it over Jonathan, whispering to Rascal to make some space. The dog jumped from the sofa and lay down just in front of it instead. The instant Rascal left Jonathan’s lap, the boy stretched out on the sofa, fully asleep, enabling Dan to cover him more easily.

“Sleep well, Jonathan. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, and walked to his own bedroom, turning off the lights as he left the living area. Dan never closed the door to his room because Rascal usually wound up on the bed and he didn’t want to be woken by the dog scratching on the door in the middle of the night. He got undressed, keeping his shorts on for once,
you’re not alone
, and slid under the warm covers of his bed,
mine and Sean’s.

His head had barely touched his pillow when his consciousness retreated to make room for a deep sleep, pushing all thoughts of Jonathan out of his mind. Along with the memories of Sean, and the painful first anniversary of his death.

THE SCREAM WOKE
Dan rudely from his sleep.
Scream? Who’s screaming in my house?
Still half asleep, his mind had momentarily lost track of the events from the evening before. He had forgotten all about the boy,
Jonathan
, who had shown up at his door, the stench, his story. He also forgot that the boy,
Jonathan
, had fallen asleep on his couch, guarded by Rascal, just before he himself had gone to bed.

Jonathan
. Repeating the boy’s name as if it were a mantra, slowly kicked Dan’s mind back into gear. He sat up in his bed, moved his legs out over the side of it and yawned.
Maybe I just dreamt the scream?
Then he heard the tears, and it confirmed to him that something wasn’t right out there in the living room. When Rascal came trotting into his room, licking his feet, trying to coerce him into following him back with him, Dan was finally wide awake and alarmed.

“Hey,” he said, as he walked into the dark living room, “is everything okay with you?” Turning on the light, he looked over to the sofa, where Jonathan was sitting, his head stuck in his hands, his upper body bobbing up and down, crying. Dan wasn’t sure how to deal with this. Sure, he’d seen Sean cry after they fought or if something else had gone way wrong, but Sean was an adult, and he’d never seen him that despaired.

He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Jonathan, unsure of what to do, what to say. “Did you have a bad dream?”

He knew it sounded lame, wishing he could’ve unsaid it the moment the words left his lips, but it was the only thing he could think of. Dan was fighting demons of his own at that very instant. Looking at Jonathan, unsure of how to deal with his tears, yet at the same time he was attracted to this boy in a man’s body while also being disgusted for having those thoughts.
I’m no freaking pedophile.

Jonathan’s response came muted, the syllable stuck somewhere between a sob and a snivel. “Yeah.” No more information, just ‘yeah.’
That was helpful
. Dan was at a loss on how to deal with this.

He remembered Sean’s closest call with despair. The night he got the call from the hospital, informing him that his grandmother had died. She had been ill for some time after a series of mini strokes that left her more and more impaired. Finally, she’d been unable to recognize Sean and Dan when they visited her at the hospital. Sean said his goodbye to her, knowing, after speaking to the doctors, that she wouldn’t last much longer. Yet when the call had come a week later, Sean completely lost it. Dan had never seen anything like it. The look on his lover’s face when he heard the news, looking completely devoid of blood, his mouth hanging open, barely articulating the responses necessary to keep the call going, his eyes staring into nothingness as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

When he hung up, he collapsed. Right there where he was standing, he just fell into this heap of flesh, lying on the floor. First Dan thought he was unconscious, but when he dashed out of bed to check on Sean, he noticed that he was shaking lightly, crying. His eyes still stared to some distant place, looking right past Dan, not acknowledging the hugs, the “ssssshs,” the rocking Dan did to Sean’s body. Dan held him tight, trying to tell him everything would be fine, because to Sean, at that very moment, it felt like nothing would ever be fine again.

They had been extremely close, Sean and his grandmother. Closer than Dan had ever been to any of his relatives, parents included. In fact, Sean and his grandma had been closer than any other pair of people Dan had ever known. Sean was in despair and it’d taken him months to recover fully. He did, of course, yet Dan forced himself not to think of that now, as the boy was still sitting next to him, crying.

Can I hold him? Should I? Would he take it the wrong way? Would he think I’m gay? Well, I am, after all, but what if he’s not? Will he think I’m taking advantage of him?

Dan recalled the story that Jonathan had told him the night before about the fight that had led to his abandonment in the forest.
Who does that? And why? Why would parents just leave their child like that?
It made absolutely no sense to Dan. None at all, it just seemed too crazy. Too whacko, and Jonathan hadn’t given any indication whatsoever as to what the fight had been about.

Letting his instincts take over as his mind was still racing, trying to make sense of what made none, Dan extended his arm over Jonathan’s shoulder, trying to comfort the boy,
young man
. Then the words came out of his mouth, before he could do anything to stop them, he instantly regretted them. “Were you dreaming about the fight with your parents?”

Jonathan’s reply, another heavy sobbing attack, confirmed that he’d struck a nerve. Feeling miserable at having provoked more sadness, he moved closer and took Jonathan in his arms, rocking him gently, as he once had Sean, all those years ago.

“Hey, listen, it’s the middle of the night. You need to get some sleep. We can talk about this in the morning, okay?” Dan tried hard to reach beyond the wall that was Jonathan’s crying, the tears, the nightmare, whatever had woken him from his sleep.

His next words thoroughly shocked him, and he silently cursed himself for them, but then again, he almost always spoke before he thought things through, it was who he was. “Listen, if you’re afraid of being out here by yourself, you can sleep in my bed. It’s king size, big enough for both of us...” Dan felt himself blush. He blushed more than he had ever before, leaving him feeling like a complete fool.
Now you’re picking him up, you idiot? What’s he going to think of you now? Huh? He’ll probably leave, thinking he’s better off in the cold than stuck with a horny old gay guy.

Dan was scared, afraid of how Jonathan might react, something in him not wanting to lose him, unable to pinpoint what that was. When Jonathan got up, moving like he was an old man, Dan’s heart dropped to the floor. He was certain that Jonathan would just walk over to his sneakers, put them on and leave him sitting on the couch, gently closing the door behind him. The freezing cold outside would be preferable to the disgusting proposal of spending even a single night in a king size bed with a stranger.
What were you thinking
?

Jonathan didn’t walk over to the door and he didn’t pick up his sneakers. Instead, he slowly moved to the bedroom, followed by Dan who, dumbfounded, trotted behind Jonathan just like Rascal had all night, turning off the living room lights behind them. Jonathan climbed into bed on Dan’s side, the side of the bed that had already been in use that night, pulled the covers almost over his head and closed his eyes, not saying a word.

Dan stood at his side, probably looking like an idiot.
You’re on my side, kid, move. I don’t sleep on that side, ever. That’s Sean’s side.
At the same time, his heart was beating so hard that he felt it in his throat. It was suddenly dry. He felt his heart beat on his temples, and he felt the oddest sensation in his groin at seeing the boy in his bed. What was it they said in the books?
Down boy, down?
Dan rolled his eyes, annoyed at himself for yet again thinking the unthinkable.

Not having much of a choice, he moved around the bed and climbed into it on Sean’s side, fully prepared for a sleepless night.
I can’t sleep on this side of the bed.

Next to him, almost anyway, he could hear the regular breathing coming from Jonathan, fast asleep. Dan turned to the side, away from the boy, trying to focus on his breathing. Before long, sleep released him from his thoughts. Thoughts of things that were, things that could have been, things that were supposed to be, things that weren’t going to be, and hope. Dan always thought of hope, no matter how hopeless things seemed.

***

Dan woke up to the first rays of sunlight seeping into his bedroom through the cracks between the curtains. Sean was lying behind him, his right arm locked tightly around his body. He loved waking up to his lover lying behind him, it was always so comforting to feel him like this, knowing that soon enough, Sean’s morning wood would inevitably start to grind against his butt cheeks,
and you know where that would inevitably lead...

Dan cherished the thought, the sensation of his lover’s erection against his back, his arm around him. Cherished the thought, loved it, baked in it, lost himself in it. He could fall freely, and although nothing scared him more than falling freely, he knew that Sean would be there, to catch him, hold him, save him.

His hands moved to hold Sean’s hand, to hold him tight and make sure he’d never let go. He just wanted to spend eternity like this. That’s when Dan noticed that Sean’s hand was odd. It was not as big as it was supposed to be, and it was hairless, smooth, the fingers long, so different from Sean’s hands.
And come to think of it, why is Sean wearing clothes? He always sleeps in the nude. And why does his boner feel too big? Not that Sean hadn’t been well endowed, but this was insane...

The dawn of realization struck like lightning, sending shivers down Dan’s spine. He almost fell out of bed. Sean had been dead for a year, he couldn’t possibly lie behind him, so who...?
Jonathan!

Oh my god, what are you doing,
he thought to himself, unable to let go of Jonathan’s arm, afraid he’d wake the boy.

Oh my god, Jonathan is spooning me, and he has a boner! He’s huge!
Dan grinned to himself, yet was scared to death at the same time.
This can’t happen, this may not happen. He’s a fucking minor
. Dan thought of all the gross things he could think of to will his own dick back into submission.
I can’t have a boner now, nothing is ever going to happen. Oh my god, what am I going to do about this?

Instead, Dan lay perfectly still, not moving a muscle, barely breathing, afraid to wake Jonathan, afraid of the consequences, whatever they might be.

At the same time, Dan felt good, oddly at peace with himself. While part of him was nauseated by the thought of a relationship,
relationship? What’s wrong with you
, with Jonathan, the young man he didn’t know twelve hours ago, he felt comfortable lying there, spooned by him. The warmth of his body against Dan’s, his breath against his neck, sharing body heat. The sensations were playing havoc with Dan’s brain, making synapses fire that hadn’t been fired in over a year, creating sensations from his small toe all the way up to his scalp, and along his neck, where his hair stood on end. Jonathan’s regular, calm breathing, blew along his back. He could feel Jonathan’s hard nipples through the fabric of his t-shirt, and down to his ass where Jonathan’s erection was rock hard in the sweat pants he wore, lined up perfectly against his ass cheeks tucked in his boxers.
Thank god I wore them last night
. He felt Jonathan’s legs against his own. He couldn’t notice whether they were hairy, like his, or smooth, like Jonathan’s arm, feeling only the soft fabric of the sweats Jonathan was wearing.

Dan’s entire body was in a heightened state. He could smell Jonathan. He could feel the heat emanating from his body, and before he’d realized it, Dan fell...

Just like he had all those years ago, when he’d first
fallen
in love with Sean. Dan fell, helplessly, he fell.
I can’t
he protested silently, but couldn’t help himself.

A shiver from behind him, and a change in the rhythm of Jonathan’s breathing, finally pulled him from his reveries. Jonathan untangled himself from him, ending the embrace, ending that moment, leaving Dan shivering from the cold air that rushed in where Jonathan had been a second earlier.

“Hey,” someone said. “Good morning,” someone responded, but Dan wasn’t sure who had said what. But it did elicit a response from the floor. Rascal took the opportunity to come to his master’s rescue, jumping up on the bed from wherever he’d slept that night, having been banned from Sean’s side of the bed, as Dan was forced into it. The dog didn’t really care as long as Dan was happy. Dogs sense these things, although they can’t really articulate it. Rascal was a smart dog. He knew Dan was content, so he was content sleeping on the floor.

Yet when master spoke, Rascal thought it was time for his morning walk, not to mention food. Jumping up on the bed was a not so subtle way of telling master Dan it was time.

“Get down, Rascal,” Dan scowled, a smirk on his face,
and thanks for saving me
. Looking over to Jonathan, he said, “Did you sleep well?” I love a good rhetorical question, Dan mused. “I’ll have to let the dog out and feed him. Do you want to join us?”

Jonathan was lying on his back, his arms behind his head, stretching, yawning. “Yeah, I slept like a log, thanks...” His voice trailed, unable to apologize for the, uh, position he’d found himself in when he had woken up. Not really knowing how to put in words what was going through his head. It was like a storm up there, a mixture between a blizzard of fear and a hurricane of hope slugging it out. Blushing, afraid of saying something to offend his host, he mumbled, “Do you mind if I stay in here just a little bit longer? I haven’t been in a bed for weeks. It’s just so nice, you know...”

Dan contemplated what Jonathan said with a nod, his request making total sense. He got up, put on a pair of sweat pants and a sweater and moved into the living room. Rascal trotted ahead, tail wagging, knowing what would happen next. Jonathan looked at the two. He watched Dan silently as he put on his boots, his thick, fur-laced, winter jacket, beanie and mittens, before putting a leash on Rascal. As he left, Dan cast one glance back into the house towards the bedroom. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before Dan averted his eyes, being pulled out of the house by an overeager golden retriever.