He Made Me Stay

by K. Webster

Wednesday, he gave me one that was in the shape of an award that said, “Only cried a little. Yay.”

  Thursday, he gave me a silver one that said, “Stay weird.”

  Today, he gave me one in the shape of a bowl of guacamole that said, “I know I’m extra.”

  With each passing day, more and more people gravitate toward him. I’m the only one he gives pins to, though. I’ve been putting them on my backpack to show them off. Kit always gets a stupid happy grin on his face when he sees them. That stupid happy grin makes my chest hurt in a good way.

  He made good on his promise to tell me what he said to Eric. Apparently, Kit just wanted to let Eric know that if he needs support coming out, he would be there for him. I was stunned because I didn’t even know Eric was gay.

  Kit also made an impression on my parents. My mother thinks, and I quote, “He’s the cutest thing I ever did see. Can we keep him?” This was after she and Leesa snuck away for a few minutes at dinner. Both of them came back red-faced from crying.

  Each day, I’ve postponed my exit, plucking a pill from the bottle, dreading deep down that my supply is dwindling. It doesn’t matter. Twenty-four should still do the job. When I think about what happens after tonight, I feel sick to my stomach.

  I miss Julian.

  So fucking badly.

  But I also know Mom’s getting closer to having the twins. I don’t want to miss out on them. Not seeing Kit each day is also becoming a big pill to swallow.

  I like him.

  Last night, I stayed up late trying to imagine how he’d take the news when they find me gone in the handicapped stall. He’d be crushed. His all-too giant smile would be non-existent. I would have done that to him.

  Rather than thinking past tonight, I focus on Kit.

  Loud. Bright. Beautiful Kit.

  As we leave first hour, Kit’s hand holding mine, I feel like I’m in a daze. I want to spend the entire night looking at him. Memorizing his face. Kissing and touching him.

  “Darrow,” Eric’s loud voice booms, making me startle. “A word?”

  Kit gives me a nod and lets go of my hand. I follow Eric to a row of lockers where no one is standing.

  “We need to talk,” he grits out.

  “Okay.” I frown. “What’s wrong?”

  He sighs and then leans in, his voice low. “I’m gay.”

  “That’s nice.” I don’t betray Kit in letting him know I already knew.

  “While it feels really good to admit that,” Eric murmurs. “That’s not what I wanted to say to you.” He sucks in a sharp breath that has me meeting his stare. “I, uh, I was in love with your brother. Unrequited and sappy, I know. He was straight. I was a closet gay. I just…” His voice cracks. “I’m so fucking sad he’s gone.”

  My heart feels as though it’s been whipped, but the need to comfort him is strong. I grip his shoulder. “I miss him too.”

  His eyes tear up and he looks at the lockers so no one will see him. “I know you and Kit are a thing…”

  We’re a thing?

  A thrill of pleasure shoots down my spine.

  “Yeah,” I agree because I want to be a thing with Kit.

  “I just…I wanted to know if…you can say no.” He frowns. “It’s just he saw it. Me. What I am. I want to tell my parents and I think I want to do it for the Homecoming banquet when the court is announced since they’ll be there watching. I thought I could…fuck, this is hard.”

  “Tell me,” I urge.

  “I want to ask Kit to the Homecoming banquet and dance. As my date.”

  The breath is sucked from my lungs. A swell of possessiveness washes over me. My gut instinct is to tell him no, but Homecoming is in October. I’ll be long gone by then.

  But we’re a thing.

  How long does a thing last?

  “I, uh, I…” I rub at the back of my neck. “What does Kit want to do?”

  “I wanted to get your blessing first. He’s your boyfriend.” His eyes are panicked, as though he wishes he could reel back in all his words. “It would be platonic, Jasp. I wouldn’t try to kiss him or anything. I just want to let my parents know who I am and that I can still be on top. I’ll still be a badass football player who’ll go to Notre Dame. I need them to see.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “If Kit wants to, I don’t mind. He’ll want to help. You’re his friend.”

  He grins at me. “You’re the best, man. I swear I won’t let you down, either. I’ll pay for his tux and everything. Hold doors open and shit.” He rubs his palm down over his face, more panic glittering in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do about the diabetes stuff, though. Do I like have to give him a shot or something?”

  This week, Kit has boldly told everyone he comes in contact with he has Type 1 diabetes and isn’t afraid to eat his snacks in class, check his monitors in front of people, or whip out his insulin pump if the moment calls for it.

  “Kit takes care of himself,” I tell Eric. “Just watch and make sure he doesn’t wear himself out. If he gets tired, he should go home. You can call me if you need to…” I trail off as the horror of my words hit my brain.

  No more promises, Jasper.

  “Thank you,” Eric rushes out, relief in his voice. “Mom will shit her pants over this, but it’ll be hard for her to go psycho on me in front of the entire school.”

  It makes me glad my parents were so accepting of my sexuality.

  “We’re going to be late,” Kit says, his hand finding mine. “Hey, Eric.”

  “Hey, Kit.” Eric’s cheeks turn pink. “See you guys around.”

  Eric walks away, back over to his group of friends—my old group of friends. As soon as he’s gone, Kit looks up at me.

  “Everything okay?”

  No.

  I’ll only have you for tonight and then it’s all over.

  Mom will have lost both boys. Dad will have no one to geek out over music with. Kit will have a thing with Eric and not me.

  “I don’t think so,” I admit, my voice raspy. “Not okay at all.”

  Kit stands on his toes so he can reach me, boldly kissing me in front of everyone. “We just have to make it through today. Then, we can talk about it. We can fix it.”

  Not this.

  There is no fixing this.

  But then Kit smiles with his silly grin and his twinkling eyes.

  I wonder if maybe there is.

  The house is quiet when we enter. I shoot Kit a confused look and he shrugs. Each day I’ve come over after school, it’s been a madhouse. Worse on Wednesday and Thursday when Leesa was at work. Tad’s a cool guy, but he lets the four little ones run wild.

  “Homeslice, you’re a murdering beast,” Kit chides as he stops to pet his cat. “Vesper will never forgive you for that blood bath you left on her bed.”

  We both chuckle. I didn’t know a girl could scream that high-pitched.

  “Snacks,” I remind Kit.

  With Kit, he’s all about the routine. As long as he follows his routines, he does better. I like helping keep him on a schedule and looking after him, watching for any tells he might not be doing well. It gives me purpose.

  Soon, we’re upstairs, in our favorite spot. His bed. This time, the house is quiet, but my head is loud.

  “Where is everyone?” The churning in my gut worsens with each passing minute.

  “Dad took the kids after school to Showman’s Pizzeria. He likes it because he can buy a bunch of tokens and let them run hog wild. We won’t see them for a couple of hours.” His fingertips skim down my chest. “Can we talk?”

  Kit is silly and rarely serious, so when his voice lowers and the concern bleeds through, guilt overwhelms me.

  What will he do without me tomorrow?

  Absently, I clutch onto my pill bottle through my jeans.

  “Did you take your medicine today?”

  I nod, my throat aching too much to speak.

  “Do I need to call Carla?”

  M
y eyes snap to his. “No. I want to kiss you.”

  His brows are knitted together. I miss his smile. “Jasper…”

  “Please,” I whimper. “I need you. You’re the only thing that…”

  “That what?” he implores.

  The only thing that keeps me here.

  A sob claws its way up my throat. I desperately try to swallow it down, but it escapes without remorse. Hot tears burn my eyes and then leak down my temples. The ache for my brother that has been carved out of my chest now stings from new loss. A loss that hasn’t happened yet.

  Kit.

  His lips rain kisses down on my cheeks and forehead and nose. He then presses a soft kiss to my lips. A needy moan rattles through me as I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him to me. Our tongues meet greedily, each of us eager for the other. He kisses me hard, but unlike the other days this week where we kissed side by side, Kit makes good on his promise to touch me. His body settles on top of mine. I spread my legs so he can rest between them. He ruts against me each time his tongue swipes across mine. Pleasure sears hot through me as our dicks rub together through our clothes.

  “I want to feel you,” I plead through kisses.

  He sits up and pulls off his shirt. His insulin pump is attached to his jeans and the monitor is affixed in place on his stomach. Despite his disease that clearly does its damnedest to take him from me, he’s so strong and fierce. I struggle my way out of my shirt, happy when we’re both naked from the waist up.

  His lips crash back down on mine. I skim my palms over every curve of his toned shoulders and biceps and pectorals. I want to touch him everywhere all at once. When my fingers tug at his button of his jeans, he pulls away, his green eyes electric with need.

  “I want you in my mouth.”

  His raspy words that tumble out of his pink, pink strawberry lips have me wanting to explode with need. All I can do is nod way too eagerly. My heart does a backflip in my chest when his grin breeches his face, looking equal parts elated and mischievous. He runs a palm down my chest. I suck in a sharp breath when he reaches the button of my jeans. With ease, he unbuttons my pants and draws the zipper down slowly. Since the house is so quiet, all I can hear are the sounds of our breathing and the soft click of the zipper along each of the metal teeth.

  My dick is straining against the material, desperate for his hot mouth. Rather than touching me like I want, he pulls my jeans down my thighs. He takes his time removing them completely along with my shoes and socks. Pre-cum wets through the material of my boxers as I wait helplessly for whatever he’ll give me.

  The other guys I’ve been with never felt like this. As though they were in it for more than just my body. Like they wanted my heart too. Kit never does anything half-ass. He plays a big game, and in this one, that includes every single part of me. He dips down, nuzzling his face against my dick, inhaling my scent. I groan at the feel of him but needing more. I’m unable to keep from touching his soft, curly hair. I stroke and pet him like he’s mine to adore forever.

  Only…I don’t have forever.

  I only have now.

  Bitterness rears its ugly head. It’s unfair. How is it I meet someone like Kit only to be teased with happiness? I feel like I’ve made my decision to leave, but now I have hooks in my back trying to get me to stay.

  My mind drifts to Julian, a hollowing ache forming inside of me.

  All thoughts dissipate, though, when Kit pulls my boxers down. He only pulls them down far enough to reveal the crown of my cock that seeps with need. His cherry-red tongue flicks out to taste me. The intense pleasure of it has me moaning.

  Jolly Rancher green apple eyes glow at the sounds escaping me. It emboldens him. He sucks the tip into his mouth, teasing me in an insane way. I whimper and lift my hips, desperate for more.

  “Patience, quark.”

  His silly pet name for me—a physics term that means a fundamental part of all matter—has my heart warming like never before.

  I want him inside me.

  On me.

  Everywhere.

  He’s life and energy and perfection. I want to feel it and breathe it and know it with every cell of my being.

  My boxers get pulled down farther. Kit sucks my dick deep into his mouth while stroking the base of my shaft. It feels so good—so insanely good—that I come without warning. I cry out as cum jets into his mouth, my balls drawing up tight.

  I come down from my high all too soon. Kit lies down on his back, seemingly winded. He checks his monitor and then relaxes. His playful eyes grow serious and hot when I gently unclip the insulin pump from his jeans, setting it beside him on the bed. I try to take care of him like he took care of me.

  “Jasper,” he murmurs. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  Here now? In his bed?

  Or here in life?

  Rather than reading into his words, I undress him and then do my best to give him an amazing blowjob. His groans and hip thrusts are telling that he absolutely enjoys my mouth like I enjoyed his. He lasts longer than I did and my jaw begins to ache, but then he lets out a ragged groan. I swallow down his seed that’s more sweet than salty before dropping onto the bed beside him.

  “Can we talk now?” he whispers, drawing my naked body up against his.

  “Just hold me.” I swallow hard. “Please.”

  “You’re still going to stay, right?”

  Tonight?

  Forever?

  I can’t answer him. All I can do is silently cry, unable to make sense of my life anymore.

  Jasper

  The mirror mocks me.

  It’s the twin who survived. The wrong twin.

  Julian should be here. He was older by a few minutes, better looking, stronger, and nicer. My brother was going to do great things. Be a man people would never forget.

  Instead, it’s him who’s gone and not me.

  If he were here, he’d pull me into his arms, press his forehead to mine, and remind me we’re brothers through and through. An unstoppable team. Forever friends.

  It’s why I have to go be with him.

  So he won’t be alone.

  Kit will be sad, but he has friends at school, a great family, and maybe even a thing to look forward to with Eric.

  My eyes water at the thought of leaving him. Sickness roils in my belly. An ache that doesn’t want to go away forms inside my heart.

  It’s cruel to do it at his house.

  For him to find when he wakes up.

  Somehow, though, I always knew it would be him. When I found him in that handicapped stall giving himself an insulin injection, it felt poetic. Tomorrow morning, when he gets up to go to the bathroom, he’ll find me. I imagine he’ll cry, but he’ll hold me and tell me he understands.

  I’ll be with Julian soon.

  I pick up the pill bottle from the counter and unscrew the lid before dumping them into my palm. Not as many as I began with, but still enough to get the job done.

  I’m so tired of the pain.

  So tired of being hollow from the loss of my brother.

  Everything hurts and the only time it’s better is when I’m with Kit.

  Memories of the evening tease at me. The blowjob he gave me rocked my world. It was the best parting gift a guy could have. I couldn’t have asked for more. But then, later after his family came home and went to bed, he kissed me everywhere in the dark. We didn’t have sex, but we rubbed our dicks together while we made out, making a mess all over his bed. I fell asleep in his arms, happy and sated, but woke up at three in the morning gutted by the painful reminder that yesterday is over and today is now.

  Tears streak down my cheeks, hot and fast. I’m trembling and stalling. It’s what I want. Going to Julian is what I need. So why does it feel wrong? Why is it so much scarier in the early hours of a Saturday morning than it was on Monday? Too many what-ifs plague my brain.

  What if it’s not enough?

  What if I throw them up?

  What if I don’t di
e but end up in a coma?

  What if it hurts worse than the pain I feel?

  What if Kit hears me crying or puking or dying?

  What if I’m not ready to go?

  The last question hits me hard, crushing into me like the blunt force of a hammer. I fist the pills, bracing myself on the counter so I don’t collapse. My eyes are bloodshot and rimmed red from my tears.

  “Jasper.”

  The name is soft, barely a whisper.

  A plea.

  At first I think I imagine it, but then I hear it again. It’s Kit. He’s calling for me. Alarm rattles through me and I shakily put the pills back into the bottle. For now. I close the lid before setting it back down. Once I swipe away my tears, I open the bathroom door and stagger out. Light shines onto the bed from the bathroom, revealing Kit’s form.

  Something seems wrong.

  My pain for my brother gets chased away by worry for Kit. I rush over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Low,” he croaks out.

  I know what this means. Quickly, I fumble for the lamp to help him check his readings. The numbers don’t look good, so I rush out of the room to wake his parents. They must be used to this sort of thing because they don’t question the boy who’s not theirs, standing in his boxers at the foot of their bed, and both leap out, rushing past me.

  “I’ll grab some juice and fruit,” Tad tells Leesa.

  Leesa hurries into the room and begins talking to Kit. She takes one look at his monitor before she curses. The seconds drag on for hours and my heart feels as though it’s stopped beating. Leesa whispers assurances to him. When Tad returns, I let out a breath of relief. All I can do is watch intently as they care for him, paying attention to each detail because maybe one day it’ll be me who needs to help him.

  A fierce need to protect and watch over him curls around my heart. If I leave, I’m not sure anyone cares about Kit like I do. Eric likes him as a friend and wants to be his date, but he doesn’t have a thing with Kit.

  Kit’s mine and I’m his.

  “If he’s going to exert himself before bed,” Leesa says, her voice tight with discomfort, “he needs to be checking his levels right after. He might need to eat something.”