Anything neck or above is off-limits, unless you‘re romantically involved. He read this in a book a long time ago and it resonated with him. You have to keep some things private. Now he laughs just thinking about it, but it stuck. Your lips can’t touch mine. It’s his only rule. When the girl at work tries to mess with his hair he backs away. You’re such a vain bastard. It’s become a joke.
Sometimes he’ll wake in the night, heart pounding. Fingers pressing into his lower back, searching for that hollow spot. Waist in a tight grip. Relax. His skin recognizes the cold titan ring, the over-sized watch, those nails. He knows their shape without even looking. Less rounded than a woman’s, manicured and clean. There are thousands of memories stored in his body. One day it’ll all come gushing out and catch everyone by surprise. You’re so uptight. I like you better when you’re drunk. It makes him want to cry. This is why his nails are always bitten down to where it bleeds. He won’t shower or bathe on those nights, thinking it will keep him safe. Too repulsive to touch. The smell of stale sweat on the bedsheets, irritating his nostrils. Heart racing, brain racing. Ears ringing. All senses heightened.
We need to have a talk about boundaries.
I’m an adult, I don’t give a shit.
Being an adult has become the best excuse ever. All those grownups who said he was headed for tragedy can’t do a thing anymore. It’s strangely satisfying. I love you. You know I care about you, right? I wouldn’t let you stay otherwise. I’m doing you a huge favour by letting you stay. Not many people would. You want to go back there? A guy your age needs his independence. You like your room, don’t you? It’s a different room in the daytime. Bathing in sunlight. His books arranged alphabetically, clothes neatly folded away. Everything in place. Tall windows, high ceiling, closets with shelves. It’s everything he ever wanted. But the door doesn’t lock. Yeah, of course I do.
You’ve seen the way he looks at other men and it makes your stomach hurt. He’ll find someone better-looking, you know he will. Someone even more desperate, who’ll say yes to anything. You know he’ll tire of your body eventually. There’s only so much you can give him. You’re terrified of being on your own, aren’t you kid. The fear is stronger than any humiliation he’ll subject you to. You love playing the victim. Have you already forgotten? If you say yes once there’s no going back. And every time you emerge from the shower, towel barely covering your ass, what's running through your mind?
