Merch Boy (boyxboy)

*Seven: Oliver*

*Seven: Oliver*

I jumped up from my seat at once. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, holding Luke’s face in my hands and wiping at his tears with my thumbs.

Lucas wrapped his arms around me tightly. “I’m so sorry, Oliver,” he said quietly, his voice shaking.

I wasn’t sure why he was apologizing, so I looked at Dr. Thurman for help. “We just discussed why Lucas might feel more satisfaction hurting you than hurting an inanimate object,” he informed me. “And we also discussed exactly how you might feel when he hurts you.”

“Wow,” I acknowledged, handing my list of concerns back to Thurman. Lucas very rarely cried. I was more of the crier in our relationship.

“We’re done here for today, boys,” Thurman told us. He nodded at Lucas. “I’ll see you in a week. And remember, communicate with each other more. Communication is key.”

Luke nodded. “Thanks.”

We went outside and started our walk home, and both of us were strangely quiet. That was kind of an emotional experience for both of us. I guess it was supposed to be.

“What did he say?” I asked Lucas curiously. It wasn’t easy to get him to cry like that.

“Well,” Luke said, looking down at the ground as we walked. “First he asked why I don’t punch pillows or furniture instead. And I said I didn’t know, because I really don’t. And then he said it might be because I want a cause-and-effect sort of thing to happen…in the moment I want to see something or someone hurt, and I can’t get that from hitting a pillow. And you’re usually the only one around, so…that’s what happens.” I nodded, understanding. I had a feeling it was something like that. “You understand that I want to stop, right?” Luke asked, looking at me. “I mean, it’s not like I get enjoyment out of…hurting you. That would be sick.”

“I understand, baby,” I assured him. “I appreciate that you’re trying for me.”

“And he said, uh…” Luke continued with hesitation,  “that I might remind you of your dad when I…”

“You could never be as terrible as my dad,” I told him. “The difference is that you actually love me, and I know that. That’s what I need from you.”

“So you’ve really never thought about…you know, leaving me?” he asked quietly.

“God, no,” I frowned. “I hate the thought of that.”

Lucas smiled for what seemed like the first time in a long time. “I love you,” he said, holding my hand.

I squeezed his hand and smiled back. “I love you, too.”

***

Over the next few weeks, I began to see a gradual but discernible change in Lucas. He started to kiss me more and snap at me less. I received more hugs and fewer harsh words. There was even one scenario where he began to get visibly angry at me, but instead of coming at me, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, then left the apartment without a word. I stood there in the kitchen for a minute in slight shock. Several minutes later Lucas called me, saying that he’d be at the gym for a while. I guessed that was a tip from Dr. Thurman, that Lucas should work off his anger at the gym. He was being very serious about taking Thurman’s advice. Things were still far from perfect, but it was obvious that our relationship was on the road to recovery.