When We Were Us

Chapter 11

The two men stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, neither able to speak as the heartbreaking words hung in the air. Unable to say much else, David stood and set his shaver on the counter.

"I'll get a bath ready," he whispered, turning the faucet to full blast and dropping some bubbling shower gel in the water. He adjusted it to the perfect temperature and hurried to grab a clean towel and washcloth, also setting out a pair of lounge pants on the bed for Jon.

He re-entered and tried to avoid looking at Jon's wounds too much for fear of his emotions unraveling. He did notice, however, that Jon was skinnier and his arms were dotted with needle marks.

"I'm...I'm sorry you have to see me...like this, D," Jon murmured as he dropped his head, hiding his shame.

"Just happy you're okay," David replied, setting the towel on the toilet seat and shut off the water when the tub was full. "I'll...give you some...privacy..." He turned to leave, staring at the floor.

"No!" Jon said, reaching out to grab onto David's arm with as much strength as he could muster, "Stay...please? I don't want to be alone..."

David swallowed thickly and nodded. He helped Jon into the tub, giving him a small smile when he visibly relaxed in the hot water. "Do you...um...want me to sit here or...?" He pointed at the small bench.

"Can you bring yourself to get in with me?"

"If you want me to." Jon watched as David slowly stripped off his jeans and shirt, showing off his time at the gym and the muscles in his arms flexing. David stepped in and sat opposite Jon, both examining the bath bubbles with awkward interest.

"I'm sorry," Jon said softly, "I'm sorry for all of it. For fucking things up with Richie. For not dealing with James better. For not trusting anyone enough to help me deal with it." He sniffed as his tears dropped into the bubbles, "For fucking things up with you. For embarrassing you at the hotel." His shoulders shook as the sobs broke through the emotionless walls he'd built up over the past couple of weeks, "I'm sorry that you had to see me like this; a drug fucked cock whore."

David bit his lip and held out his arms to Jon, who cried and crawled into his embrace. "Jonny, if anyone needs to be sorry here, it's me. I should have helped you figure out the bullshit rather than blame you for everything. I told you...I'm terrible at relationships. Things get tough and instead of being there for you, I tell you to fuck off and run to my ex." David sighed sadly and picked up the washcloth. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Jonny."

He wet the cloth and let the water cascade over Jon's chest and shoulders. A little bath gel and David worked up a nice thick lather, up to Jon's neck and down his arms.

Jon hissed and pulled away when one particularly fresh bite wound was cleaned. He couldn't remember who or when that one happened. Last night? Last week? It had all become a blur as he had tried to kill his memories and numb his pain with alcohol, drugs and mindless, nameless sex.

David caressed Jon's cheek with his fingertips, noticing how much more pronounced his jawbone was. "I'll make sure we order food for you. You've lost a lot of weight...too much."

"Coke doesn't have much nutritional value," Jon said blandly, "I can't remember the last meal I had." He started scratching at his scabbed skin as the last of his coke from the night before began to leave his body.

"Fuck, Jonny," David breathed, his tears betraying him and spilling over. "I'm not going anywhere. We'll get you through this..." He forced Jon to look him in the eye, "Together."

Jon held his gaze for as long as he could before wrapping his arms around David and buried his face into his neck. Finally, he felt safe enough to grieve over the love he had single-handedly destroyed. "You don't need me, Lema. I'm a liability. I won't stop you if you want to leave the band. You deserve your own time in the spotlight."