Page 32

ARUSH

Julian’s fingers combing through my hair threaten to put me to sleep.

I’m incredibly relaxed as I lie on the couch with my head in his lap.

We’re watching a cooking show. It’s an older show, but one of the best as far as Julian is concerned.

There’s no fanfare and no smack talk, just simply cooking.

The competition shows today are all about show and pomp.

I’ve never watched cooking shows, so I can’t compare personally.

This one is a lot of fun, though. They move around so quickly, and their dishes look amazing, high-quality, and unique.

Today, their ‘ secret ingredient ,’ which must be the star of every dish, is wreckfish.

I don’t know what that is, but from what I see on television, it’s a normal black fish.

There’s a commentator who seriously knows everything . He’s ridiculously impressive and a little quirky, too. I adore him.

We’ve been binging the show since we got up this morning for no other reason than that it’s nice to lounge around. We were going to head down to the gym two hours ago, and yet, here we are. Fortunately, the gym in the building never closes, so we can go at any time.

Julian’s phone rings, and he shifts to reach for it. I know from experience that Julian paces when he talks on the phone, so I lean forward, allowing him space to get up. He does, leaning down to kiss my forehead, and then answers the phone.

“Hey.”

I lean back on the couch, bringing one of the throw pillows under my head so I can still watch TV, but my focus is on Julian as he wanders around.

I’m not sure who he’s talking to, and at first, the conversation sounds like hockey talk. Which means unless I’m hearing both sides of the conversation, I have no idea what they’re talking about. I’m not well enough versed in hockey to even guess.

Instead, I just listen to Julian’s voice. His laughter. I watch his facial expressions as he smiles, laughs, and just listens.

But their conversation turns to something else, and I concentrate a little more on what he’s saying.

“It went really well. The kids are definitely motivated and spent a lot of time commenting on the season and players in the league. They’re betting on Vegas to win the Cup this year, which means they’re not paying attention to Toby. They’ll learn eventually.”

In reference to the kids, I’m guessing he’s referring to the group of high school kids in a hockey league that he met up with for a hike a few days ago. I’m not sure who else he could be referring to.

“Nah. You know, I almost called you,” Julian says. “They started asking some weird, almost provoking questions about being on a team with gay men and your junk being checked out.”

I raise a brow. What the hell?

Julian laughs. “Nah. As it turns out, someone there is gay and apparently… I don’t know.

Had some misgivings about whether he’d be accepted on a team?

I never truly understood what Keno meant, but once I realized that the guys asking the questions weren’t being assholes, but trying to reassure someone else there, it felt… heavier but better at the same time.”

I frown. Why didn’t he say anything to me about this? I specifically asked how the hike went, and he did talk about it, but he didn’t say anything about this at all.

Once more, a pit forms in my gut. Shouldn’t these be the things that partners share?

“Yeah. It felt good to confirm that having a gay man on the team is no different from having a straight man on the team. But I was so irritated at the questions initially, I was borderline chastising them. It felt like irrational anger I couldn’t quite control, though I immediately felt better once I realized why they were asking. ”

If he was upset, why didn’t he talk to me about it? I close my eyes and try not to let it bother me, but this moment reminds me of the time he introduced me to his friends as his friend. It’s like we keep taking steps backwards, and I’m not sure why.

Did I trigger this? Was it something I said? Am I trying to move us too quickly, and this is his way of pulling back a little?

My stomach twists, and I tune out his words. Instead, I listen to the tone of his voice mixed with the television commentary while trying to convince myself that this isn’t something I need to be concerned about. I’m getting ahead of myself. Everything is fine .

It is fine. That’s the absolute truth.

I let those words run through my head like a scrolling marquee. I’m startled when the couch dips and my eyes fly open. Julian smiles as he climbs on top of me, lying on my chest and wrapping his arms under my shoulders.

This means something more than him not telling me when there was a conversation that upset him. Right? He’s choosing to take comfort from me. He doesn’t seek comfort from anyone else.

I hug him tightly, kissing the top of his head. I hook the leg he’s not pinning beneath him over the back of his calf.

“You know,” Julian says quietly, “I’ve wished for this very thing for so long.

People talk about being touch starved or whatever, but I don’t think that properly describes what I feel.

It’s not about touch. It’s more about affection and taking comfort in a specific someone’s arms. Does that make sense? ”

See? This is fine. Everything is perfectly fine! I take a breath. “Yes. I agree.”

“You okay?”

Am I brave enough to say something? I’m shit at initiating conversations when something is bothering me. But I need to. That’s what you do in a relationship.

“Why didn’t you tell me that something about your hike bothered you?” I blurt, hearing the hurt in my voice. “Why aren’t you comfortable enough to confide in me?”

Now I’m holding my breath. It feels like everything inside me is filled with pressure against glass and it’s cracking. Getting ready to shatter.

Julian adjusts his arms under me so he can push himself up onto his forearms and look down at me. I try to keep the emotional tears from my eyes. When I’m frustrated with myself, tears form. Which only frustrates me more. It’s a vicious cycle.

“I’m sorry,” Julian says. “I promise, it has nothing to do with whether I’m comfortable sharing something with you.”

“This is going to sound very childish, and I can’t seem to think of a way to modify it and lose that tone, but why did you tell your friends just now and not me when I asked about the hike four days ago ?

” I ask. Oh my god, I feel like an idiot.

I’m sure my cheeks are heating with embarrassment, too.

I’m surprised when his lips press against mine. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Arush,” he says quietly, gently pressing his lips to mine, my cheek, my jaw. God, he’s going to make me cry. I already feel like a child.

“A few summers ago, Keno drunkenly kissed Etna on the beach and the news got hold of it and started outing him as gay. At the time, neither of them identified as anything other than straight, and though Keno tried to set the record straight with the media, he realized it was a losing battle, so he stopped trying to correct it, but he also didn’t confirm the claim either.

The league put him into the Gays Can Play initiative, which advocates for the inclusion of LGBTQIA+ in professional sports.

One of the LGBTQIA+ youth events Keno was involved in had a deep impact on him.

I was reminded of him sharing that with us when Etna asked about the hike because I think I understand why it had such an impact on Keno. ”

“I’m not sure which question to ask right now… I’m stuck between how Keno and Etna went from straight to married, and still not understanding why you didn’t tell me if it made an impact on you. I guess… I feel less important.”

Julian sighs. “You’re not less important,” he says, kissing me over and over.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.

I guess… maybe I was still processing the conversation.

Processing how it makes me feel, and that has zero reflection on you for why I didn’t say something about it. ”

I nod because I think that’s the best I’m going to get from him. I’m not sure the answer satisfies the way my gut twists, though. I hate this feeling.

“You’re the most important person in my life right now,” Julian murmurs. “I’m sorry that I made you feel less than that. I’ll happily talk to you about it if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to if you don’t want to.

” I wince at how that sounds. Fuck my life.

When did I become so needy? But it is exactly what I said because if he doesn’t want to talk to me about it, then I don’t want him to feel obligated to do so.

I want him to want to talk to me and share things.

How do I say that without sounding whiny?

It’s not meant to be sulky or needy. It’s just the reality that I want to be that person for him.

His lips brushing against my cheek make me shiver. His hot breath on my skin makes me warm. I’m trying not to grip him in a pathetically desperate way. Truly, I’m not.

“What I’ve gleaned from the questions asked, though I didn’t try for clarification, is that someone on the team is gay and they’ve been made to feel like they’re not welcome to play hockey, though it doesn’t appear that the comments have come from someone on the team itself.

I would think it’s likely they’ve probably been made to feel less capable of playing well, being successful, or maybe only being tolerated on a team because of their sexuality.

These are things Keno has repeated about others in the GCP group having experienced growing up, and given the nature of their questions, I’m guessing there have been people making this individual feel that way. ”

“That’s… awful.”

Julian nods. “I was angry at the line of questioning at first because it felt like an attack. I took it more personally than I might have two years ago because some of my closest friends are gay or bisexual or whatever. I became heated. But then I realized this group liked my anger and my response, which told me they were making a point to someone. It wasn’t until we started hiking again that the equivalent of an ‘ I-told-you-so ’ exchange confirmed my suspicions. ”

“If the team didn’t make him feel that way, who did?” I ask.

“Bigotry is a learned behavior,” he says, shrugging. “I’ve always said that the most fragile masculinity and tenuous sexuality is that of a self-proclaimed straight man. When you’re a child of one of these individuals, you learn their behavior.”

I get that. There are other reasons for that behavior, too, though. Like religious teachings and whatever. As long as there’s someone there justifying the behavior, it will continue.

“Anyway. When Etna asked me about the hike, I couldn’t help but think how good it felt to know that, at least with the team I’d had the pleasure of hiking with and learning their names, this generation isn’t going to sit quietly in a corner and exist, letting the world around them keep their friends down for something as stupid and uncontrollable as your sexuality.

I think in a way, I understand how Keno’s experience impacted him because that realization has stayed with me, too.

And this wasn’t even an LGBTQIA+ event.”

“They sound like great kids,” I say.

He nods, picking up his head to look into my eyes. I feel like I’m on display right now. Like I just made a fool of myself for no reason.

“They are great kids. I’m hoping to take them hiking again later this summer. Do you want to join us?”

My breath stills, and for a second, I can’t breathe. “Really?”

“Yes. Really. I was going to ask you at some point, but I haven’t made plans with the team yet. Just a suggestion that we all agreed on. I want to share experiences with you, Arush. Not just tell you about them. Please believe that.”

Okay, the dam inside me that holds back ridiculous emotion was loosened with my frustration minutes ago, and now tears are in my eyes again. I nod, afraid that if I speak, he’s going to hear something embarrassing, like my voice cracking or something.

“They’re going to love you.”

I close my eyes. I doubt they’re going to love me. I have no contribution and only the barest understanding of hockey.

“Are you okay? Do I need to convince you it was a misunderstanding, and I didn’t mean to make you feel unimportant to me?”

“I’m sorry,” I gripe. “I feel so childish.”

“Don’t. I want you to tell me if I make you feel like that. I swear to you, it wasn’t intentional. I’m not always sure how much involvement you want in my hockey life, and I don’t want to bore you.”

I huff. “How can I be bored when I still don’t understand what I’m watching or what those guys are talking about?”

Julian grins. “Not understanding usually translates to boring for a lot of people.”

“Not me. I’ll figure it out. Besides, this is your career, and it’s important to you, right?” Julian nods. “You really love the sport, not just playing it, right?” He nods again. “Then I should take an interest in it. That’s what partners do.”

“It’s equally okay if you legitimately don’t like hockey, you know. We aren’t required to have the same interests and passions. Contrary to what so many people are led to believe, we’re allowed to be our own people with our own likes and dislikes.”

I smile. “I know.”

“Good.” Julian rests his head on mine. “Now… for your other question—how two supposed straight boys fell in love and became couple goals. It’s sickeningly sweet, so I hope you have a vomit bag ready.”

I laugh as Julian settles back on top of me, pressing his face into my neck. I hug him tightly and listen to him talk, still feeling childish and maybe ridiculous, but also like a boulder was lifted from my shoulders because we had a conversation about how I was feeling.

Maybe the next time something bothers me, I can remember this feeling right now. I can remember that Julian likely doesn’t mean to make me feel unimportant to him. He did say I was the most important person in his life right now.

“It began as a joke,” Julian says, and I settle in for story time.