Can I Love Again? (Boyxboy) *Book 1*

12

-Loki's POV-
My parents made me start taking physical therapy again. Which means, less time with Drake because we also have finals coming up and graduation not too long after. Even though he says it's fine, I know he misses me as much as I miss him. It's weird to be away from him like this after so many months of being pretty much inseperable.
This therapy didn't do much help in the past, but now, I have more motivation than ever before.
* * * * * *
He smirks. "Graduation is coming up."
"I know."
He rolls his eyes. "That means Prom is coming up as well."
My face heats up. "So?"
"So what are the plans? Are we going or are we gonna stay home and watch movies and eat ice cream?"
"Well, Prom is a dance, so I don't think I'm planning on going if I just have to sit while everyone else dances," I state, trying my best not to sound bitter about it.
He nods, not pushing further. "Then we better make a list of movies we haven't seen before."
I nod along. There's a lot of movies I haven't seen. I'm not really into movies, but Drake loves them. He loves everything. Even me. And I don't have the guts to say it back.
His attention goes back to the TV, but mine stays on him.
This guy has dealt with all of my outbursts of anger and sadness for a long time. He hasn't faltered once. Not even when I went through a small fit of depression when I found out that Chase left town. I know he left because of me and I feel shitty about it. Thank god I have Drake. I'm sure I would've actually tried to "finish the job", as Drake says, by now.
My attention drifts back to Drake and I can't seem to take my eyes off of him at the moment. But, hey, I'm not complaining.
Why is it that all of the people I've ever known to be attracted to me have been so attractive themselves? Like, the few gay people I know all look like models. Well, aside from Charlie. He's got the cute exterior of a pug.
Thoughts going back to Drake, I take his hand in mine and rest my head on his shoulder.
I feel him shuffle a bit and he throws his other arm over my shoulders and wraps it wround me, pulling me closer to him.
We are sitting on the couch in what his grandparents call "the playroom". It's actually just the basement with his game consoles and his grandfathers air hockey table. They added couches when they realised that Drake might bring friends down here to play video games, or watch movies like now.
We are watching one of Drake's current favorite movies.
La La Land.
I'm not all that interested in the movie aside from the interesting musical numbers. I love musicals. I grew up on old and new Disney and let's just say that that may be the first sign that I'm gay. I'm not saying that every man who enjoys musicals is gay, I'm simply implying that that may be the reason most are.
I begin to pay attention to the movie and the couple is fighting with each other about the man being off on tour. I think she might be overreacting a bit. But I've learned from movies and the few TV shows I have seen that he shouldn't say anything about it. Some women are irrational. She seems to be that kind of character.
By the end of the movie, I have tears in my eyes. I look over at Drake and burst into laughter. He's full on crying his eyes out!
He glares at me as he wipes his tears away then smiles. "Shut up. That was sad."
My laughter dies down and I return his smile with my own. "I know. You just looked so cute and funny crying like that over a movie."
His face turns a light shade of pink. "Shut up," he mumbles. We both stay quiet for a while and just listen to the ending credits music. "How's therapy going?"
I shrug. "Not much progress being made. I get frustrated too easily."
He chuckles. "You can always just stop. I'm sure your parents would understand."
I hum, "I don't want to give up. If there's a chance I can regain mobility in my lower half, I've got to try my best."
"Just don't push yourself too hard."
* * * * * *
"You're distracted."
I glance over at Dr. Farley. "No, I'm not."
He ignores me and asks. "What are you thinking about?" I ignore him this time. "Who are you thinking about?"
"Probably his amazing boyfriend," my sister buds in from the corner of the room.
I glare at her and try to focus on the task at hand. "So, what. It's not like thinking about him has ever distracted me before," I mumble to myself.
"Ah, I see. That's what the problem is."
My head snaps up and I give him a hard stare. "The only problem here is my legs."
He holds his hands up as if surrending. "I'm just saying that you're probably losing motivation from something he might've told you."
I scoff. "Bullshit. He's been nothing but supportive."
Farley rolls his eyes. "But I bet he's said something like, 'I love you just the way you are.' Or, 'You don't need to change. You're perfect the way you are.' That's supportive, yeah, but it seems you're thinking deeper into what he's saying, though you probably shouldn't, and it's distracting you from getting any progress made."
I sigh, internally admitting that he's right. I'm trying to figure out what Drake means by it. Does he not want me to regain my ability to walk, or am I just thinking too much about nothing? Why do I do this to myself?
I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up at Farley.
"We'll end our session for today. I'll see you on Monday."
I nod and carefully make my way to my wheelchair once Hailey brings it closer.

As we make our way out to her car, I feel a burst of motivation. I'm going to work hard enough to at least be able to dance a bit. I'll do it for Drake.

* * * * * *
In my hands are my motivation.

A picture of me and Drake in one hand.

Two tickets in the other.

It's going to be a surprise for Drake. I'm not going to tell him until it's a week away. I'll need to spend even less time with him so I can make even better progress.