Daniel turns the lights out.
“Goodnight,” Daniel says, and Todd reaches out to squeeze his arm. It’s not exactly something you say yes to, but he thinks Daniel will understand.
He’s fast asleep before he can fret about it.
* * *
Todd wakes when fingers stroke his hair. Blinking slowly, his eyes focus on Daniel leaning over him in bed.
“Morning,” he says and removes his hand.
After a second of hesitation, Todd signs good morning and hopes that he remembers the movements correctly. Judging by the way Daniel’s smile widens, he does.
“Did you sleep well?”
Todd nods and squints at the sunlight flooding into the room. “What time is it?”
“Eleven.”
“And you’re awake? You’re smiling and awake?” he grouses.
“Have been for almost half an hour.”
“Oh, my god, go away.” Todd pushes at him without any effort behind it. He’d much rather grab Daniel’s hand and put his fingers back in his hair, but he doesn’t, for obvious reasons.
“I’ve made coffee.”
“I’ve changed my mind. You can stay.”
Daniel smacks Todd’s bare thigh where it’s been exposed, as he gets off the bed. “You might want to drink it before it gets cold.”
He turns away and disappears out the door before Todd can reply, but the promise of coffee makes him force himself out of bed and into his T-shirt and sweats to pad downstairs.
Daniel has made toast, too, and there’s a steaming mug waiting for Todd at the table, along with a plate. He doesn’t think hunger is the only reason that his stomach contracts, but he’d rather not think about that.
“Wow!” He sits and nudges Daniel’s foot with his. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“Sorry?”
Todd repeats the question.
Daniel smirks. “Probably nothing.”
“Rude.” Todd tries glaring, but the coffee smells way too good. He hugs the mug with his hands and watches as Daniel cuts his toast and stirs milk into his coffee.
The silence between them stretches, but Todd finds it comforting. He drinks his coffee and scrolls through the news on his phone, and Daniel is reading an actual newspaper he’s spread out on the table. The toast is incredible, but Todd is too distracted by the way Daniel refills his mug without asking that he forgets to enjoy the bite in his mouth.
Chewing on the crust, Todd puts his phone down and glances at the page Daniel’s reading. It’s finance stuff. Why is he surprised? He gives Daniel a gentle nudge with his foot to get his attention.
When Daniel looks up at him, Todd forgets his question.
“When do you want me to leave?” he asks.
With a shrug, Daniel sips his coffee. “When do you need to be elsewhere?”
“Tomorrow night,” Todd snorts, because that’s when Dad wants them to have family dinner again.
“Okay.”
That’s definitely not the reaction Todd expected, and he has to nudge Daniel under the table again when he returns his attention to the newspaper.
“I was kidding. I can’t stay until tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t want me to stay for two nights?” he puts it as a question, because Daniel seems completely fine with the idea.
“Why not? I’m home alone. Company is always nice. I have practice in a couple of hours, but you can come with or stay here if you like.”
Todd’s throat makes a weird sound. This is something he’d say to a boyfriend if he had one or to Mela. When Daniel says it, it sounds so simple and easy. Still, Todd’s heart is freaking out as if he’s been proposed to over coffee.
“Uh.” He taps his fingertips against the table. “Okay, sure. I didn’t bring any extra clothes, though.”
“What?”
“I didn’t bring any extra clothes.”
“I guess you have a tough choice to make. Either borrow something from me or stick to nudity.”
“You joke about it like I would never walk around naked in your house.”
Daniel quirks an eyebrow, and Todd caves immediately.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t.”
“I hope you’re never captured if there’s a war. You’d crack in two seconds.”
Todd makes a face. He’s not going to dignify that with an answer—he would do great.
“So,” he begins when he remembers talking to Evan. “I called my brother.”
Instantly serious, Daniel stops with his mug halfway to his mouth before he puts it on the table. “How did that go?”
Chewing his lip, trying to find the right words, Todd watches as Daniel folds the newspaper and pushes it away before he angles his chair toward Todd’s.
“It went… surprisingly well, actually.”
“How so?”
Todd has to divert his gaze to gather his thoughts. The crumbs on his plate are less distracting than Daniel’s eyes.
“I mean, at first there was a whole lot of crying.” He tries to say it as a joke, but when he looks up again, Daniel has that crease between his eyebrows and freaking concern written all over his face. “After that, well, we sort of talked it out a bit. He apologized. I’m sort of working on forgiving him.”
“There’s no rush, is there?”
“To forgive him?”
Daniel nods.
“No, I guess not.”
“I think you’re really brave for calling him.”
Todd squirms in his chair. “Did I mention the crying?”
Daniel smiles. “It doesn’t make it any less brave.”
“Says the guy who confronted my lies right away,” Todd mutters.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I said—” Todd straightens up and mentally slaps himself for not speaking clearly. “That you’re the one who confronted me about my lies in the coffee shop when you found out. I waited forever to do talk to Evan.”
“To be fair,” Daniel says. “We had met two times before that. This is your brother. I imagine that there are a lot more hurt feelings involved.”
“Yeah.” Todd hesitates, knowing that he’s already apologized once and that they’re friends now. “I’m still really sorry for how I behaved.”
“I know. We’re okay now.”
Todd claws at his face, but makes sure to uncover his mouth when he says, “Jesus Christ, why are you so nice?”
Daniel barks out a laugh. “Would it make you feel better if I punched you?”
Todd eyes Daniel’s arms through his fingers. “Probably not.”
The smirk on Daniel’s face fades into something more serious. “What did your parents say about you not talking to your brother?”
Todd hugs his knees to his chest. “I mean, they know me, so I don’t think they were too surprised that I shut him out. My mom wants everyone to get along, so she tried to make me talk to him. Family is important to my dad, and I think it worried him that we weren’t talking, but he didn’t express it the same way.”
“Your mom wants you to get along, and family is important to your dad?” Daniel checks.
“Exactly.” With a shrug, Todd diverts his gaze, careful to keep his face turned toward Daniel. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think his obsession with family dinners and spending time together and snooping around in my life comes from him leaving his entire family and, you know, culture behind in Monterrey. He had an entire life he left there, and then his kids were fighting, and I was annoyed with him.”
“Where? Can you spell that out?”
“Oh, sure, sorry.” Todd is incredibly proud of himself for managing to get the M and N right this time around.
“Monterrey, that’s in Mexico, right?”
“Yeah.” Todd
nods against his knees. “He moved here for my mom, when he was just done with college.”
“How did they meet?”
“She was on vacation, and my dad worked at a bar at the hotel where she stayed. He told me he proposed to her on the first night.”
Daniel smiles. “Wow.”
“She said no.” Todd snorts. “He had to propose four more times and then he gave up. She proposed to him a year later.”
That makes Daniel smile, and Todd can’t help but do the same. His parents might be annoying at times, but they could be a lot worse, for sure. He expects Daniel to mention something about his own parents, but he keeps questioning Todd.
“Is your brother your only sibling?”
“Yeah, thankfully. Are you hiding any others than Ava around here?”
“I think she’s enough to handle.” Daniel grimaces as though he remembers something.
“I think she might’ve learned from her brother,” Todd says innocently.
“From what I’ve heard, her brother is actually pretty great,” Daniel tells him.
Fighting to keep a straight face, Todd shrugs, hoping that it looks nonchalant. “When he makes an effort, maybe.”
Daniel nudges him with his foot. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I was joking about that she got it from you,” Todd says hurriedly.
“No, I meant after talking to your brother.”
“I think so.” He studies Daniel and sees his attention, as if he really cares about what Todd has to say. After so many conversations, Todd doesn’t know why that still blows him away. “I guess I’m kind of scared that he’ll get right back to his old ways in no time.”
“That’s a valid fear.” Hearing that makes the guilt in Todd’s belly ease somewhat. “Have you talked to him about it?”
“No. We didn’t talk for that long.”
“Do you want to talk to him about it?”
Taking a breath, Todd nods. “I think I should.”
“Do you want a hug?” Daniel sounds hesitant. Maybe he doesn’t offer hugs that often.
“From you?”
“I mean, if you’d rather have one from someone else, I’m sure I can find a random person on the street who’s willing.”
Todd snorts, but he’s freaking out a little bit. With the exception of Daniel using his legs as an armrest and that calf squeeze last night, their only physical interaction was when they kissed the first time they met. Todd imagines that Daniel’s hugs are firm and warm, but he’s scared to find out.
“I’d like a hug, thanks.”
And it’s awkward to get to his feet when Daniel does, just to get a hug. It’s almost a formal thing, as if he’s greeting his boss. But when Daniel envelops him, wrapping him up in his arms, Todd can’t do anything but melt against him. Strangely, not being able to communicate like this makes hugging easier. He doesn’t have to say anything. Instead, he puts his chin on Daniel’s shoulder and digs his fingertips into the soft fabric of his shirt at the small of his back. There’s a low whistling sound coming from Daniel’s hearing aid, but it stops when Todd moves his head away just a bit. Daniel is both solid and soft against him; his body is well-toned, but his embrace is gentle.
It seems like a long time, but probably isn’t more than a minute, when Daniel’s hold loosens and Todd has to step away.
“Thanks,” he says, because how the hell does one express gratitude for a hug? “I needed that.”
“Anytime.” Daniel smiles, but then he busies himself with clearing the table and Todd helps in silence.
He brings his phone to Daniel’s practice and a book he picked from Daniel’s bookcase. He’d rather sacrifice his hair to the humidity of the pool than be found hanging out alone in Daniel’s room if his parents came home unexpectedly.
Swim practice seems utterly boring. They’re doing laps upon laps, and Daniel is wearing shorts instead of his usual suit. Todd’s going to have to ask about that later. He’s in the bleachers, several rows up, because he doesn’t want Daniel’s teammates to get the wrong idea.
He checks social media and then starts on the book Daniel lent him. The background noises of the water and people talking are soothing. He suspects that he could’ve gotten a lot of school work done if he had brought it here, because there would be nothing else to do, nothing to distract him.
“Ready to go?”
Todd straightens with a jerk and finds Daniel standing in front of him, wearing his regular clothes. His hair is wet, probably after the shower, and he looks pretty tired.
“Sure. I didn’t even notice that you were done.”
“Just fifteen minutes ago or so.”
When they reach the doors together, Jesse catches up to them, places a gentle hand on Daniel’s shoulder, and stops them both in their tracks.
“Hey, Todd,” he greets, signing as he speaks, smiling in the same way he’s done since the night Todd first met him. “How’s it going?”
“Good thanks. You?”
Jesse’s smile grows wider. “Good, good. Staying for practice, huh?”
“I didn’t have anything else to do,” he explains, his neck growing hot.
“He’s staying until tomorrow,” Daniel fills in. Doesn’t he realize that that’s just making things even worse?
“Cool,” is all Jesse says, but his grin makes Todd want to create a sign saying We’re only friends and staple it to his forehead. “See you guys around.”
“Bye,” Todd tells his back.
“Hungry?” Daniel asks him.
“Very.”
“Do you like pasta?”
“Are there people who don’t like pasta?”
“Too many.”
“God, who allowed them to exist?” Todd says and then heaves a sigh for effect, proud of the way his words make Daniel smile.
That night, they curl up on the couch on Daniel’s floor and watch TV for several hours. It’s mostly reality shows that don’t engage them. Todd’s chest burns with the way they’re so close together, without actually touching much. Daniel’s arm brushes against his every now and then, when he reaches for his drink or the popcorn that almost set off the fire alarm. Half of the bag is in the sink, burnt into a black mess, but Todd managed to save the rest of it. It tastes like soot, but that doesn’t matter.
He nudges Daniel’s arm, and waits while Daniel turns off the TV and turns toward him on the couch.
“Why do you want to be a judge?”
“A judge?” Daniel checks, and, when Todd nods, he’s silent and his gaze grows distant before he looks at Todd again. “My grandfather told me I’d make a good one.”
It’s the same explanation Todd got the first time they met.
“Do you think you’d make a good one?”
“I hope so,” Daniel says, after hesitating again. “I looked up to him when I was a kid. He died when I was fourteen, lung cancer, but he’s the only one who’s always told me I can be anything I want. That I can do anything I want.”
“He must’ve been great.”
“He was,” Daniel nods. “A product of his own generation in a lot of ways, I guess, but he was always willing to learn. He’s the one who took me to my first swim practice and he’s the one I told that I’m bisexual before anyone else. I was terrified. He was dying in a hospital, and I felt like I’d been lying to him, because I hadn’t told him. I guess I was scared that he wouldn’t approve, you know?”
Todd knows that feeling. Even though he knows his family, before he told them he felt an ounce of fear that they’d turn out to be strangers, people he didn’t actually know. “What did he say?”
“I had to explain what it meant, and he just asked me: That’s it? I thought you were going to confess a murder.” Daniel smiles to himself, his gaze far away, as if he’s back in the hospital with his grandfather. “He told me that
I can be anything I want to be, because of who I am. Not despite, because.”
“I’m glad you had someone like him,” Todd says, when Daniel focuses on him again. “He sounds like a great person.”
“I honestly can’t imagine where I’d be without him. I know it sounds cliché, but he made all the difference for me.” Daniel’s gaze flicks to the black TV screen and then back to Todd. “I don’t remember what’s going on in the show we’re watching.”
The trip to the past is over for today. “Someone died and now they’re trying to find the murderer,” Todd says, laughing when Daniel shoves him, causing him to topple over on the couch.
He sticks his feet under Daniel’s thigh and proceeds to watch the rest of the episode lying down. Daniel doesn’t comment, and the silence between them is just as comfortable as last night.
An hour later, Daniel stretches, and Todd blinks sleepily at the screen.
“Are you ready to go to bed?”
“Are we sharing?” Todd asks, just to make sure. He isn’t usually this direct, but Daniel is pretty straightforward most of the time, and it makes things really simple.
“Sure,” Daniel says with a shrug. “We obviously managed last night.”
“We did.”
In a way, it is stranger going to bed with Daniel tonight, when they don’t have a TV show to watch together in bed. However, it’s a lot easier to just curl up under the covers than pretend to pay attention to the show on screen.
“Today was nice,” Todd tells Daniel, when he’s under the covers and turned toward him. The lamp on the bedside table is still lit, so communication still works.
“It was. I hope you didn’t mind the practice.”
“Not at all. I was kind of surprised of how nice it was there.”
“Come again?”
Okay, so the lighting might not be ideal. Todd grabs his phone from the nightstand and taps out his reply in the notes before he holds it out to Daniel.
“Thinking about taking up swimming?”
Todd snorts, and erases his first reply, only to type again. Are you kidding? I can barely swim like a normal person, let alone the shoulder-dislocating thing you do.
Brush Strokes Page 18
