Thank you so much for the comments on the first part of this story! They inspired me to keep writing, even with computer troubles. I hope there weren't too many mistakes there, or here. I am very new to writing and haven't mastered anything- especially editing. Anyway please enjoy!
I woke up feeling disconnected. I tried to swing my legs out of bed, but found them stuck. My eyes were blurry, hard to keep open. I pushed myself up and blinked waiting to wake up more. When I did the first thing I noticed was Peter. He was sleeping on my bed on top of the covers; his eyelids were red and looked bruised around the lashes. He looked unbelievably sad and defeated. He was curled into a tiny ball around one of my pillows under a throw from his bed. It took a moment for me to remember why he was so sad, when I did it hit me like a hammer.
I ran my tongue around my mouth, the gums were still sore. A blush rushed to my cheeks. I was so embarrassed I felt sick. I had to do something, I knew I had to talk to Peter, and call my therapist, but first I had to do something, anything to take my mind off the burning humiliation.
Moments later, teeth gently brushed, lazy day glasses on, and bleach in hand I went about cleaning the bathroom, when I finished that I moved into the kitchen. When I was finishing the sink and thinking about cleaning out the fridge Peter joined me.
"Jax, I really hope-" I looked up from polishing the front to look at him. He looked even worse than I did. His eyelids were bruised and his eyes bloodshot. He looked like he was ready to cry again.
"I'm really sorry." I interrupted. I felt much calmer, ready to at least think about talking. The scent of bleach was in the air, and it made me feel better, but I was ready to take a break. "Do you want to get breakfast?" Peter shook his head. I blinked at him. Peter never said no to food.
"I want to stay here. I don't really feel well." I thought back to what I had said. I didn't think I was overly mean, but Peter looked like he did after each new breakup.
"Peter, I am really, really sorry-"
"Jax, I know you are sorry, you can stop saying it. I'm sorry too." I didn't know what to say. Maybe I had ruined everything. That was what I was trying to avoid. Maybe it wasn't that I was too standoffish, or that we were just meant to be friends. Maybe I was just too crazy for Peter to deal with anymore. I felt my calm slipping away and tears gathering in my eyes. I couldn't loose Peter. I wouldn't have anything left.
"I'll try harder!" It burst from my lips before I could think, but it was true. I could try harder. I could go to therapy regularly like I was supposed to. To keep my only friend I would even try the personality stealing meds. "Peter I will try harder. You can't give up on me." It was worse than whining, I was begging, but all of it was true. I would try harder- I would try anything. Being faced with no more Peter was motivation to do anything. I opened my mouth to go on-
"Jackson. Shut up." I closed my mouth. Everything was changing, and I didn't like it. "You don't have to try harder. You are just fine. But I think you're right. I don't think we are really good for each other anymore. I thought about it, and even though you are the best friend I could ever have, I am not that good of a friend. I've just been using you all this time, what do you get out of being friends with me? I get everything, but you never seem to get anything. I need you, but I need to learn to not need you." Tears began falling, but I was angry now, using? I thought I was being nice, that's what friends did.
"What do I get out of being friends with you?" I whispered to avoid my voice cracking, it didn't work. "I get everything too. We have been friends forever; you are my only fucking friend. You can't just give up!" Peter shrugged. He looked so defeated it was impossible to yell at him, to stay mad.
"I love you. I always have, like I told you." He shrugged again. "Once is better than nothing I guess. I've imagined waking up next to you for years, and in a way I guess I got to, but I don't think it will ever happen like I imagined. I think now I will be-"
"Why not? Why can't you do what you imagined?"
"It's stupid, it will never happen."
"Tell me!" Peter blushed and looked away from me. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was messy, but clean.
"I always imagined waking up with my face buried in your hair." He looked directly at me tears dulling the fire in his eyes. "I imagined kissing you awake, sucking you awake, fucking you awake. I imagined opening my eyes and having you be the first thing I saw. I imagined making breakfast with you before we even got dressed, covered in sweat and cum and too hungry to care. I imagined-" I looked at the gloves protecting my skin from bleach. I tried not to imagine what he was describing. Kissing before brushing? Not showering after- well. Cooking without clothes? I shuddered I resumed cleaning. I breathed slowly. In through the nose out through the mouth. I wouldn't panic. It wasn't going to happen, it wasn't going to happen.
"See, you aren't even listening." I turned back to Peter, he had still been talking. I hoped I had missed all the dirty thing he had been describing.
"I was, Peter, I can't- I can't even imagine-" My breath caught in my throat, I resumed polishing, more zealously than before. I hated myself. Why couldn't I just be? Let the dirt and germs be. Most of them weren't hurting me. I knew that. I forced myself to take a deep breath.
"I think I love you too. I can't let myself, but it is too late. But I can't imagine- Peter please I can't not be your friend." I turned back to watch his answer. It was a while before he spoke. The polish was drying on my rag. I could have gone back to polishing, but this was more important.
"Jackson, I can't just wait forever. I feel like I have, and finally when I- well you know what happened." More tears gathered in my eyes.
"Please give me another chance. You have to be a little patient with me. I've never-"
"Oh I know." He laughs, suddenly happy. The whole room brightens with his smile. I feel lighter, and I don't even know his decision. "Jackson, I think we want the same thing!" He laughs again, then sobers suddenly. "I have no idea if it could work. I don't think it can. I don't know if I would survive breaking up with you. There would be no one to eat ice cream with, to cry with me, to tell me I told you so. Jax, I don't think I can risk it."
"You don't have to worry. No one else could deal with me. Peter I don't know how to be with someone, but I've been with you forever already." Maybe this wasn't going to be the worse day of my life. Jet planes did training exercises in my stomach, completing several before I saw Peter's smile.
"Would you still eat ice cream with me if this doesn't work out?" I nodded. This was happening, what now. I loved Peter, but was I in love? Could I deal with all the touching and- other stuff couples did? Would Peter expect me to- do stuff now. I had gone so long without anyone without anyone. I was the oldest virgin I knew. I didn't even know how to kiss properly. I took a deep breath, in through the nose out through the mouth. I had a whole new thing to panic about.
**
We did end up going out, but to lunch instead of breakfast. Peter grabbed my hand as soon as I locked the door to the flat and grinned at me.
"This is just like I imagined." I smiled back. Holding hands I could do. Plus I had seen Peter wash his hands before we left. Maybe he was right about clean things we could do. Maybe I had been too worried about everything. This was perfect. But anything perfect can't last too long.
We were finishing a yummy lunch of pizza; I ate mine with a knife and fork, but shared with Peter, baby steps. I never got over an attack right away; it would be a few days before I wasn't constantly thinking about all the dirty things everywhere. But the sun was shining, and for the first time in my life I was on something that could be called a date.
