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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ELLIOT

The second I escape to Hank’s, relief washes over me. Hiding in his houseplant forest, no one else can reach us. The world can’t intrude.

I only get a moment alone with Hank, though, before he has to rush off to the office. I’m left in the quiet condo, and I immediately pull out my drawing tablet and my sketchpad. I set up at Hank’s kitchen table, and I put myself to work.

Marko and Taylor are taking a few days off from responsibilities, but next week, level-up summer is back.

The launch of Taylor’s new dance party will be here in no time, and Marko and Taylor are primed to help me build my illustration career.

This time at Hank’s gives me the perfect opportunity to catch up on my obligations and prepare for the next phase.

Hank calls at lunch to check in on me and make sure I’m eating the leftover veggie pasta in the fridge. He’s catching back up in the office, and my dad seems to have quickly forgotten I exist again, or maybe purposefully chosen to ignore the reality.

Regardless, we’re in the clear.

My stomach full, I work out a series of sketches, cyberpunk android erotica, and catch up on my email.

There’s even a message from a new potential client offering a major pay day and asking for more details.

It’s a total lifesaver. Before Hank gets home, I make sure the condo is tidy, checking over the kitchen and bathroom twice.

He’s had a busy day, and I want him to come home and feel as good as I’ve felt working here.

When Hank returns, he insists that he wants to cook dinner again. He agrees to let me help, though, so I end up at the counter, chopping onion and broccoli and peppers while we talk about our days and listen to music.

Hank looks sexy and competent in his undershirt, throwing together a tofu curry without any recipe. It makes it impossible to keep my hands off of him, and we brush together and kiss while we work in rhythm.

Dinner is exquisite. After, I clean up before I show my appreciation with a blowjob. Hank leans back in the kitchen chair, his legs spread, while I work him with everything I’ve got.

For once, we barely talk about the disasters, beyond quick confirmations that there’s no one outside his place, and that shady strangers still linger near my house.

Instead, we make our way to the couch, and I ask Hank to show me his favorite movie.

He pulls up something I’ve never seen, Wong Kar-Wei’s Happy Together , a lushly gorgeous nineties film about a gay couple with a tumultuous relationship.

I curl against Hank’s chest, and he holds me while we watch.

For the next two days, the thought of leaving the condo never crosses my mind.

Hank is taking on entire new responsibilities at work, and it impresses me how confidently he meets the challenge, reminiscent of his determination on the island.

Somehow, he still manages to have the energy to care for me, too.

I do my best to care for him in return. It’s easy enough to keep the place clean and jump in to help him when I see the opportunity, but I try to find my own special ways. I wake up before him to bring Hank coffee and yogurt in bed, and I rub his feet when we relax at the end of the day.

Thursday, I get inspired. When Hank returns from work, I’m in the living room with the vacuum running, wearing nothing but a clean pair of socks.

I glance over my shoulder. “Welcome home.”

Hank chuckles. “What is going on?”

I vacuum under the couch, arching my back to make my butt look good. “I was thinking about how hard you work all day,” I tell him and turn, holding the vibrating vacuum handle between my legs, “and I decided I wanted you to come home to an extra clean house as a reward.”

I vacuum closer to him, and Hank grins. He pulls off his work jacket and hangs it by the door, then kicks off his shoes and walks to me.

“That is a reward.”

My naked body brushes across Hank as I pass, but I draw out the pleasure.

I vacuum my way around the living room, posing and letting Hank drink in the view.

His attention gets me hard, as horny as Hank looks, but he gives in to temptation first. Pulling the vacuum out of my hand, Hank drags me into a deep kiss.

He pushes me onto the couch, groping down my leg as I groan in appreciation. His strong grip closes over my ankle, and he plays with my socks as I pull his pants open and hurriedly work at his shirt.

We kiss deeper and longer. Hank pulls my sock off, then the other, tossing them aside.

“Ready for you to be naked,” he says with a growl.

We go at each other fast and dirty after that. We’re all spit and grunts and groans of approval, thrusting together on the couch until we finish each other off with our hands.

After we clean up, Hank hums appreciatively and pulls me to him on the couch. “That was a nice surprise.”

I find my spot against his chest, and Hank strokes my beard lightly.

“Thought you’d enjoy it,” I tell him, smiling and proud of myself.

“It’s always nice coming home to you, Elliot.”

I hold his hand. “Yeah. It’s nice being here.”

My emotions nearly flood me. I wasn’t planning on initiating this conversation right now, but the moment feels right.

“I know this is early, but I think I’m falling in love with you, Hank.”

Hank’s grip on my hand tightens. “Elliot,” he says.

I expect him to caution against such a strong statement, to tell me it’s too soon to even consider that. But instead, Hank pulls me closer.

“I’m falling for you, too.”

I turn and meet him in a kiss, pleasure washing through me.

“We’ll take our time,” I assure him. “I don’t want to rush anything. But I’m not confused about how I feel.”

“You’re right,” Hank agrees. “I know what’s in my heart.”

We cling to each other. I think about everything we’ve been through, and how grateful I am for Hank. How lucky I am that I found him.

“I need to go back to my house soon and take care of some things.”

Hank nods. “It’s not the right time to go public. And your father seems to accept my work, but the office is tense. That means more sneaking around.”

“I agree.” I kiss the back of his hand. “I did decide to see my family for dinner in a couple days, as requested.”

“You’re ready?”

I nod. “I’m going to have a conversation with them that I should have had a long time ago.

I’m going to tell them that we need to reset the terms of our relationship.

I’m done accepting financial help, and I’m also done hearing their opinions about my life choices.

We’ll start on a new path forward, hopefully one that can work better for all of us. ”

Hank sits up, still holding me. “You’re taking control of the situation. I’m proud of you.”

“Hopefully, I end up with a family and financial independence, instead of destitute and needlessly alone,” I joke, although my stomach twists. “But if something goes wrong, I’ll have time to reset before we tell them about us.”

“Can I do anything to help?” Hank asks.

“You’re already doing everything.”

“And you’ll be okay turning down their financial assistance?” Hank asks. “You know if you’re in trouble, especially now, I can help you.”

I shake my head. “I’m going to do this for myself. But thank you for the offer.”

He nods, accepting that. We lie together on the couch a bit more and talk, then make our way to the leftovers for dinner. Tonight, we skip a movie and head straight to bed, where I fuck Hank long and hard before we pass out.

When I finally leave the condo the next day, it feels strange to have to sneak out, and stranger still to have to sneak back into my house. But after a few days at Hank’s, I’m refreshed and energized, and ready for the upcoming conversation with my family.

I need to draw some new boundaries, which means I’m going to have to put myself on the line, expose myself to potential rejection or worse. But I’m ready for this, ready for the change.

And I’m ready for a future with Hank, too. I never would have guessed when we were first castaway on the raft together, but he’s the man I love.

I manage to pay Taylor what I owe for utilities, even though it empties my bank account again. Some of my first-edition books sold online, too, which I package up before turning to my illustrations.

The next night, after another full day of work, I begrudgingly pick a suit that my family will approve of and arrive to dinner right on time.

After being greeted by employees at the door, I’m lead through the foyer and into the banquet room, where there’s seating sufficient for the entire family. Everyone mingles around a massive antique dining table, big enough for all unlucky thirteen of us, ages six to seventy-six.

No one turns my way, and after a moment, I raise my voice. “Hello?”

“Elliot,” my mother says, and she gets up to greet me.

I give her a half-hug, and she stiffens as she lays her hand flat on my back.

“I heard you wanted to see me?” I say.

She frowns. Her dress has a prim black color and cuffs at her wrists, and her dark eyeliner is stark against her pale skin.

“For the sake of the family, it’s best we all gather.”

“Elliot,” my father says, standing near the table. “Join us.”

At that, the rest of my family finally turns to take me in.

I look at them all. Refined taste, happy families, tired smiles. My grandfather’s face is pinched even more severely than my father’s, and my grandmother is weighed down with necklaces.

Anxiety churns in my stomachs when I take in my siblings. They all hated having a weird gay brother when we grew up, and not a one of them stood up for me to my parents as adults. But I still don’t want to lose them.

“Elliot,” my sister Lucinda says. “You did make it. And not even late.”

“Just exactly on time to eat,” my brother Jasper adds, completing the thinly veiled dig.

In an awkward pause, I almost flee.

My grandfather clears his throat. “Elliot Thaddeus,” he says. “It’s good to see you doing well.”