𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

you're not alone

Benji's POV:

Jorge slept through dinner again. I watch him lie on my bed, nestled underneath the covers.

It's the most peaceful I've seen him since he was kicked out of his home- Which was already a few weeks ago.

He's been quiet and reserved the whole time, seemingly stuck in his own head. I'm still not allowed to touch him, nor is anyone else.

Syd and I are so worried about him.

I brought a plate of macaroni upstairs with me. It's growing colder by the second as Jey's sleeping chest rises and falls.

"Jey?" I sit next to his pillow, causing him to stir.

"I brought you some dinner."

He looks up at me with dull eyes before resting his head once more. "I'm not hungry." He murmurs.

"I know you're upset, Jey, but I need you to eat something." I urge him. He hasn't had any food all day.

"I can't do it."

I'm used to this battle by now. He lacks the motivation to do the most basic of tasks at this point. He exerts all of his energy into going to school, and spends the rest of his time recovering from that.

It's no way to live.

Picking up the plate I brought upstairs, I start with one, single noodle. The sound of the fork against the glass brings Jorge's eyes to flutter open. I gently hold the fork to his lips, and he accepts the noodle. After a couple forkfuls I hand him the plate so that he can eat, himself. His hunger beats his fatigue as he picks at the dinner plate.

Jorge's POV:

I wipe out the macaroni before I even know what happened. I guess I was hungry.

Benji settles into his bed, sleeping with his head on the other side of the mattress, near my feet. He understands that I'm uncomfortable sleeping next to him.

Don't get me wrong, I'm so grateful for Benji. He helps me eat, shower, and get out of bed in the morning. He's amazing.

It's just, after what my mom did to me, it's hard to see any boy that way. Or anyone. The idea of intimacy or love of any kind, even between a man and a woman, makes me feel guilty and sick.

I look over at Benji. I know I love him. But the fact that I love him feels so wrong.

Tears begin to build in my eyes.

I hate myself. I'm so stupid.

My body shakes and everything feels out of my control. My heart racing, I try to choke down a sob.

I sense a movement on the other side of the bed. Benji gets up and kneels beside me on the floor.

"I'm right here, Jey. I'm right here." He soothes.

I cling desperately to his words, my chest heaving.

"You're not alone. I won't leave you. I love-" He pauses, and through the dark I can see him look sheepishly at the floor. "Sorry."

Suddenly it is that Friday night in the guest room all over again. I remember Benji holding me. I long for the comfort I felt in that moment. His arms were so warm-

Without my permission, my hand reaches out and holds Benji's. I don't feel gross. Or bad. I feel loved.

"Can I touch you?" Benji asks carefully.

I nod.

Benji scrambles onto the bed, cautiously crawling over me. He lies next to me and meets my gaze.

"Are you sure?"

I nod again, tears pricking my eyes. All I want is to feel him. To know someone's there.

He grabs me with gentle arms, as if I am made of delicate porcelain. Drawing me into his chest, my breath hitches. His body is warm against mine. It brings me peace, but also so much self hatred.

"Is this okay?" He asks.

I bury my head into his chest in response. I try to push out all of the bad thoughts as I breathe in the smell of Benji.

Stupid. Gross. Gay. Disappointing.

Benji runs a hand through my hair, causing me to shudder at the sudden touch.

"Can you tell me what upset you so much?" Benji asks, still holding me close.

"I love you, but I feel gross." I say through tears.

"You feel gross?" Benji inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"Like I need to wash my hands. To get it off of me." I attempt to explain.

I can tell that Benji doesn't understand, although he's trying to.

"Do you feel dirty right now?"

I nod. "But I'm trying not to, because I like this."

"If you ever want me to touch you- or not to, just tell me." Benji instructs.

"Okay." I nuzzle my head into the crook of his arm.

————

I wake up feeling warm. I push myself against the source, trying to absorb as much of the comfortable heat as possible. It shifts slightly, which makes me open my eyes.

Benji.

I fling myself away from him, memories of last night come rushing back. I go straight to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, and begin scrubbing my hands.

Benji's POV:

I sigh.

Jorge is back in the bathroom. I was hoping this wouldn't happen.

"Jey?" I lean against the door, hearing only the sound of rushing water.

"I'm sorry." Says a quiet voice from the other side of the door.

"Sorry for what?"

"F- For running away. And washing my hands." He stutters.

A wave of sympathy washes over me.

"No, don't be sorry. It's okay. Just please come out." I remove myself from the door.

The handle twists open, revealing a disheveled looking Jorge.

"Are you hungry?" My stomach rumbles.

He shakes his head.

I'm not going to fight him on this one.

"I'm gonna go grab some breakfast. I'll let you get ready in here." I say, moving towards the door.

"Wait- Benji."

I turn around.

"Thank you. For everything." He smiles at the carpet.

"Of course, Jey. I love you." I reply, warmly.

"I love you too, Benji."