The Meet-cute [A spin-off from The Advertisement] (Chapters 5/?)

[ichixshiro14]

Omg, can we just concuss Andrew so hard that he forgets about the blackmail and leaves??? He's seriously the worst. Derek and Kalen are perfect for one another!!! ❤️

[Not Telling]

@AntheaHolmes Hi lovely, as always thank you for your heartwarming and wonderful comments. I agree with your comments especially about Kalen. I am quite endeared by our sweet self-effacing cinammon roll hero. 

@dwaekki I'm right there with you. I think that's some of why updates have been a little slow, I kind of just want for Kalen and Derek to be together already, I'm getting impatient with the journey, but I also don't think it would be rewarding without the slow-burning build-up to get there. But.....never fear, we are getting there. Just, you know, we have things we must get through first. Hehe

@orange ❤️ Thank you! 

@ichixshiro14 Haha! That is definitely one option to write Andrew out of the narrative. I'm so ready for him to be gone that it is a tempting approach....🤔 

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Hello forum friends! This next chapter gave me fits. The initial part flowed easily and I thought surely I would have it post ready in no time at all then I gut stuck in a bit of a rut and the more I tried to drag myself out the deeper I sank but here we are. Hope you enjoy. ❤️ 

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Chapter 4: Kalen

I

It's been 6 weeks since the museum excursion with Derek. We’ve met for coffee at least once a week while he’s on his way to work or when he takes a break but any invites I’ve sent him to do another whole day or event thing he hasn’t been available. In the past week and a half the invites to meet him for coffee have stopped. While we still text practically daily, a part of me worries that he's been avoiding me. Yeah, it was me who had to decline two of his previous invites to meet him for coffee, but I wonder if maybe he's decided he doesn't have the capacity to deal with me. Between my allergies and that damn PTSD episode maybe he’s decided I’m better in small doses. It’s a good thing I've at least managed to not have a bad mobility day and gone for the entire trifecta of what’s fucked up with me- maybe he saw a side of me that made him rethink things.

But the other part of me, the logical rational part of me knows I’m being unreasonable. He’s still talking to me and he does make an effort to see me even if it can only be for brief periods of time. It's more likely that he's just busy and I’m reading into it far too much. I remember the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, how he comforted me during the PTSD episode. He didn't look at me with disgust, or shame in either case, he looked at me with tenderness and kindness. He was nothing but compassionate and full of acceptance that felt nothing but genuine.

He’d managed the entire scene better than most to be honest. So much so that I’ve come close to sharing with him about that day. About the simple reconnaissance mission that turned into an ambush, that I couldn’t defend myself or the men and my reaction time poor because I was in the middle of a silent sneezing fit, the IED that went off, taking my leg, and the real reason for my career in the army ending. But every time the story sits right on my tongue, I can't seem to spit it out. The longer I know him the harder it becomes rather than easier. I wish I hadn’t chickened out of telling him the entire sob story the first night in the bar. If it had freaked him out it wouldn’t have mattered, what’s the big deal if a stranger can’t accept you, now it feels like there’s so much more at stake.

In any case, I’m doing my best to combat the nonsensical part of my brain and not assume anything negative in how Derek is interacting with me, but I can’t help but shake the feeling that there’s something I’ve done to cause him to withdraw. Somedays we text so frequently that it feels like we’re having a face to face conversation and I think I’m just being paranoid. But then, somedays I text him in the morning and I don’t get a response until late in the evening and it's often short and clipped without any of his usual quirky personality. Those days feel different, like I did something wrong, said something I shouldn’t have. Those are also the days according to my sister that I mope around like a wounded animal.

His responses the past few days have been slow to come. He never leaves me on read but the duration between texts is progressively becoming longer and longer. He still hasn’t responded to the text I sent him yesterday afternoon and while I know my stress over it is decidedly uncool I can't seem to stop the unraveling. I’ll give it to my sister, she’s listening to my verbal freak out very patiently. Finally, when I’m done she replies.

“Maybe you should tell him how you feel?”

“And lose the only friend I’ve managed to make since my discharge outside of you and my recovery? No I’m not doing that Denny. He’s in a relationship, I have to respect that and imposing my feelings on him, and asking him to consider choosing me is wrong and unfair. He doesn't deserve that. The relationship he's in doesn't deserve that. And what if I do and he does choose me? If I was with someone I wouldn't want some new person sweeping in and trying to separate me from my boyfriend. I don't think I could respect myself having us start out that way. We'd be doomed before we even started. He's a friend and that's all he can be and I have to be okay with it."

"I know Lenny, I shouldn't have suggested that, you have too much honor and integrity to ever put anyone in that position, but are you truly okay with it? I've never seen you this way about anyone. Not even..." she trails off as she sees me flinch, giving me an apologetic smile.

"Yeah, I know" I say quietly. "I have to be okay with it."

She frowns. "But are you?"

I sigh. "I can't deny that I would love to be something more to Derek. I'm comfortable with him in a way that I haven't felt with anyone outside of you and my closest army buddies. He has this energy that is impossible not to be drawn to. He carries himself with a grace and confidence that I've never had. While he’s maybe a little self-conscious about his idiosyncrasies, he doesn’t deter that from being himself, he doesn’t try to hide it or conform to some obscure stupid standard of who he should be and he wouldn't accept someone treating him poorly because of who he is. I admire that. It's refreshing. While I was out in the army, I always felt like I couldn't be 'too gay' you know. Like it was one thing to be conceptually accepting of it but another entirely to be confronted with it in reality. And I know that's my failure, I maybe could have made remarks about some dude's ass when they were all extolling the virtues of tits and it wouldn't have been a thing, but I wasn't that comfortable, didn't feel secure enough to be able to do that.”

“I also just enjoy him. He's quirky, and nerdy, and funny, and kind, and caring, and so blindingly attractive in every sense on every level. And yes, I can admit that there is a part of me that wants to fight for him and claim him and let him know how I feel, but it would selfish of me to want that. He doesn't even know the entire circumstances surrounding my discharge or that I’m an amputee and I’ve avoided any scenario that would make it obvious and require me to tell him."

"So maybe you should start there. Trust him with the whole story, open up to him in that way. Even if he isn't for you romantically it'll be good to talk about it outside of me, your therapist, and people that already knew the circumstances of your discharge. The more you talk about it the easier it will get and so when the time comes to share it with someone that might become more to you it won't feel so daunting and from everything you've said about him, he sounds like he'd be an excellent first person to share your story with."

"I know I should. I know if we keep hanging out in person it’ll need to come out at some point. As it was, the last time we went out, I got lucky that I managed an entire day out without any noticeable or detrimental flare ups with my limb. I can't really explain what's holding me back. Like you've said everyone in my life that knows, found out through other means, I've never had to tell the story completely myself. It's....hard."

"I know it is. You say you're inspired by the way he's so unapologetically himself, this is your chance to accept yourself exactly as you exist today with no shame. You also say he shares your dark and punny sense of humor, maybe you could try delivering the news in that manner to add some levity to it, make it easier to share. The way I see it, you have a whole host of amputee jokes at your disposal that you haven't been using."

"Oh my god, you're right! Why didn't you make me see this sooner? The possibilities are endless!"

"I'm not sure you were ready to appreciate it before" she says kindly but it still makes me wince. She's not wrong, I was a mess when I first came home. Traumatized and heartbroken but also angry, resentful, frustrated and so lost. I hadn't just lost my leg, I felt like I'd lost my identity right along with it. It's been a journey to get to where I'm at today. Lynden is a big part of the reason why but I know those early days were emotionally taxing on her just as much as they were on me.

"Don't do that." She scolds knowing exactly where my mind went. "You went through a terrible loss and extreme trauma, physically, emotionally, and mentally, you had every right to feel the way you did. Don't forget that you approached your recovery with the same fierce determination and fortitude that has always driven you. I've seen you steadily stabilize over the past months since your return home, your mental health has improved significantly, you seem more comfortable in your skin and I'm happy to see you reclaiming your life and getting out more and making connections."

"Thanks sis"

"I love you Lenny."

"I love you too."

My conversation with my sister helps but by the afternoon when I still haven't heard from him the doubts creep back in. I cycle through every excuse in the book some more absurd then others. What I've currently landed on is maybe I’ve made him uncomfortable with our interactions. I might have pushed the boundaries of friendship too far. Despite my self-lecturing and trying to remain respectful of his relationship and keep things strictly as friends between us I can't help that I am very attracted to Derek and I might have found myself doing things that were perhaps not strictly between friends.

Being in the army the friendships and bonds you form are a little different than civilian friendships, there is in an inherent closeness that gets established really quickly and certain boundaries cease to exist by nature of the job. While I've had dalliances over the years I've never had a formal relationship, the closest I came to having one, it ended before it could truly begin. Our first encounter notwithstanding, I don't think my actions with Derek have been overt or inappropriate, but provided my lack of expertise, I suppose I don’t really have a good barometer. In retrospect, I wonder if maybe some of my actions haven’t been strictly friendly.

Which is precisely why I should not be pulled up at his house right now preparing to walk up the driveway and ring the doorbell. Not without his knowledge or approval to come here. He might not even be home, or he might be home but doing something with his boyfriend. In the history of the supremely stupid I take the cake and yet I'm still advancing towards the door. Go big or go home really shouldn't apply in this instance. I should just go home.

My feet carry me to the front porch despite my brain yelling at them to turn around and go back to the car. But they are stubborn, insistent, and determined to follow through on their plan and ring the doorbell. My heart is hammering in my chest as my finger hovers over the button. What am I doing here? Why did I think this was a good idea? Why didn't I ask him to come out instead?

"Oh for fuck's sake just do it" I mutter and ring the bell.

As the seconds tick by, my anxiety grows. He probably isn't home. Or he’s spending time with his boyfriend. Just as I'm about to turn around and walk away, the door swings open and there stands Derek.

"Kalen?" he says, his voice filled with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Uhhh...hi," I stammer shifting awkwardly my words failing me. For once my allergies swoop into rescue me. A breeze rustles the trees and I’m hit with a sudden and urgent need to sneeze. “’S-sscuse me” I just barely manage to stutter out before turning away and sneezing into my elbow.

Hhh’IsssT’Chu Hhh’EHT'ISSHU Hhiih’ItSsS’Cheww Hhh’IiiSss’Tchu Hhhii'IISSSHHoo!

"Bless you," he murmurs as I turn back around.

"Thanks." I reply and now I’m right back where I started. He’s looking at me expectantly and the sneezing reprieve didn’t grant me with some reasonable explanation for my being here. "Look, I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. I shouldn't have just showed up without any notice. I don't know what I was thinking. I can go."

"No, wait," Derek says quickly but softly "Would you like to come in?" He asks opening the door a little wider.

"I umm I don't want to impose, which I know my just waltzing over here without your consent is evidence of the contrary, in fact it's probably down right creepy, you let a guy know where you live once and he just decides to pop on over whenever without warning. I think there are restrain-"

Derek chuckles. "You're doing it again."

I pause confused "Doing what?"

"Stealing my thunder of awkward."

I laugh lightly. "Like I told you I have made some pretty hefty investments in that market. It's a bit of a process to make a withdrawal so usually I try to leave it alone allowing compounded interest to drive up my balance, but occasionally it cannot be helped and a withdraw has to happen."

He gives another small laugh but it quickly turns into a harsh cough drawing my attention. I assess his appearance. He's dressed in a baggy shirt and lounge pants, his curls appear even more wayward than I've grown accustom to seeing. His eyes look watery heavy and tired, his forehead is shiny with a sheen of sweat. He has a tissue bunched up in one hand and his nose is red and raw and come to think of it his voice does seem to be an octave lower. I groan, I can’t believe I didn’t notice right away. "Oh my god you're sick. Now I feel like even more an ass for showing up here."

He grimaces "Right, sorry I wasn't thinking, you probably don't want to come into the infestation."

"No!? Gosh no that's not what I meant at all. Colds don't render you unfit for duty, do you know how many men I've been around with the sniffles. It's like constant. I meant that you should be resting not trying to entertain me."

"Well, I should forewarn you I think this is more than just a case of the sniffles. Andrew, my uhh…..my boyfriend, he picked something up on the set of the movie he's working on and it seems, so kindly passed it on to me. If you do wish to come in you're welcome, but I do need to sit down, I'm feeling a bit dizzy."

"Shit-fuck. Of course." I quickly slip past him entering the house when I see him teetering I wrap my arms around him and lead him to the couch.

"Sorry, thanks." He murmurs as I deposit him down. "Feel free to sit down as well though you probably want to keep a fair bit of-" he trails off and I catch the expression on his face, one I know only too well, before he buries his head in his shirt collar.

Ah…Haah-choo! ... Huh-ksssshh ... Hah-Ssstchuu ... Ahh-ktschh

His sneezes are impossibly cute, a breathy build-up, soft, light, airy, and rapid fire. They’re adorable, just like the rest of him, and my heart melts. "Bless you," I murmur softly.

He glances at me sheepishly. "Thanks. Sorry, as I was saying you probably want to keep a fair bit of distance so you don't catch this."

"My immune system has built up a fair bit of tolerance over the years. I'm not worried." I say, settling next to him on the couch. "You on the other-hand" I say bringing my palm up to his forehead. "You feel feverish. Have you been taking anything? How long have you been feeling sick?"

He blinks at me, the words taking longer to process. "Uhh…Andrew used the last of the medicine we had." He offers by way of explanation.

"Okay” I draw out the word, not sure why that should have any bearing on why he doesn’t have any now “Can he pick up more on his way home?"

Derek bites his lip "Ummm, well actually when I started to get sick he said it was better if he wasn’t around me just in case. He can't afford to take any more sick days from the film he's working on."

"I don't understand, I thought you said he was the one who got you sick? How could he re-catch it from you?"

"It was just in case it was coincidental and we both got two separate illnesses, he didn’t want to take any risk."

"So he just left you alone? Without any medicine or anything?" I ask incredulous.

"It's not a big deal. I’ve been drinking a lot of water and I do have Advil."

I couldn't fathom how his boyfriend would just leave Derek to fend for himself. Maybe I wasn’t being fair I didn’t know him, but in my mind you don't walk away from the person you're with when they get sick. I only imagine that Derek tirelessly took care of his boyfriend while he was ill. The guy couldn’t be bothered to return the favor? Okay I have to stop this line of thinking, my judgment or anger isn’t going to help.

"Alright, you rest, let me go to the store and pick up some things."

"Oh you don't have to do that" Derek protests.

"I want to."

Derek opens his mouth to say something but seems to think better of it, giving a small nod. "Okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"I'll be back soon."

"There's a key by the door, feel free to take it to come back in."

I nod, grab the aforementioned keys and leave. I don’t know what he may or may not have on hand so I get an arsenal of items. An assortment of cold and flu medication, pain relievers, tissues, a thermometer gage, grocery store homemade soup, other various comfort foods and snacks, juice, honey and lemon to make a throat coat drink, a pack of electrolyte beverages, ginger ale, and several bottled pre-made smoothies, in case he doesn’t feel like eating - I know when I’m really sick, rare as it is, the last thing I want is food- so he can at least still get some calories, nutrients, and sugar in his system.

When I return, the living room is empty, the lights are turned off. He must have gone to his bedroom for better sleep. I decide not to disturb him, and instead start unpacking the groceries. A few minutes later the sound of footsteps alert me to the fact that Derek is awake.

"Hey, I thought you were sleeping," I say turning to look at him. He looks truly awful. I can’t believe I missed it initially. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame as if the simple act of standing is draining the last of his energy.

His usually expressive eyes are dull and glassy, framed by dark circles His skin, normally a healthy hue with a natural glow, is pallid and clammy. His hair is even more disheveled, sticking up in odd angles as if he has been tossing and turning restlessly. His posture is slumped, shoulders drooping under the weight of his fatigue. I notice his labored breathing, each inhale and exhale sounding wheezy and congested. His expression is one of utter exhaustion, his eyes barely able to stay open as he blinks slowly, trying to focus on me.

He shakes his head, but winces as if that little action hurts. "Couldn't ff-ff-fffaall-"

Hhuh..hhAh..Hah..hh’hh-Ktchu.. Heh-tschuu … Ahh-chioo … Hah-ktscho … Huh-choo!

"Fall asleep," he finishes.

"Bless you."

He waves a hand dismissively. "How much did the..." he trails off his eyelids falling closed.

Hehh-tshh ... Huh-ktschh!

"How much did the shopping cost?" He completes.

Now it's my turn to wave my hand. "Don't worry about it." He frowns. "Look the way I see it we’re even for you so kindly funding my groceries the other way.” I say before he can protest. He still looks unsure so I add “Tell you what, you can pay me back with your excellent company."

Derek snorts. "Yeah I'm exceptional company rr-rr-rr-"

Hheh..hh..hhh'Sss'Tchu … Huh-ktschh!

"Right now." He says dryly. "For fudge cakes, I'm sorry, excuse me."

I chuckle, his expressions are so endearing. "What, you think a few sneezes suddenly makes you unappealing company? If that's the case, what on earth are you doing being friends with me?" I joke.

"That's different. I’m not going to catch the plague from your sneezes." He says through a coughing fit swaying on his feet.

"Whoa there." I say moving to steady him as he continues to cough “Alright, let's get you back into bed."

He nods, leaning into me.

"I'll support you while we get you to your room, but you're gonna have to help me out." I say wrapping my arm around his waist.

"Mmmk" he murmurs but makes no attempt to move, snuggling closer into me inhaling deeply. "You smell so good, you always smell so good. I want to bathe in it."

Oh my god! He's killing me here. What the fuck do I do with this information? How am I supposed to process that? "Okay now I know you're definitely feverish, come on sweetie let's get you to bed." Oh great, pet names have entered the chat.

"Yes, sir." He salutes me, and then giggles stumbling a bit my hand tightens around him, pulling him closer into my side. "Whoops" he says his glossy eyes blinking at me before nuzzling his face against my neck.

So help me. I am a grown man, an army veteran, a former Ranger. I have seen some of the most harrowing things a human can witness and still remain in the land of the living, But never in my life have I felt a more powerful urge to swoon, just drop like a stone, all over this fever delusional man telling me with his sugary sweet, angelic voice, that he wants to bathe in me.

"Alright, change of plans, we're diverting to the couch," I say basically carrying him to the couch gently lying him down. “I’m going to finish putting things away, make you some tea, and we're going to get some medicine in you."

"You're such a good friend." He mumbles.

Friend. There's that word again. A word that's been haunting me, chasing me, tormenting me. A word I would do well to remember. I pull a blanket around him, running my hand through his damp curls on his forehead before heading back into the kitchen. When I come back out with a fresh mug of peppermint tea, a glass of water and medication in hand, I find him curled up in the corner of the couch fast asleep. I set the items down, and pull a second blanket around him, tucking him in. I watch him sleep for a few minutes. His chest rises and falls slowly and steadily. He looks so peaceful and innocent. I hate to wake him, but I want to get the medicine into him before his fever worsens and he gets even more delirious.

"Der?"

He stirs, but doesn't wake.

"Der, sweetie" I say more firmly, but keeping my voice low and gentle.

"Hmm," He mumbles, his eyelids fluttering open. He blinks at me a few times before his conscious brain seems to catch up as recognition sparks in his face his lips curve up in a slowly unfurling smile, as though the smile must fight its way through the exhaustion and discomfort of his fever but once it takes form, it is perfect, soft, warm, and genuine, radiating affection despite the pallor of his face and haze of sickness that resides in his expression. It steals my breath. As he comes to, he scrambles clumsily from his horizontal position. "I'm up, I'm up."

I help him prop himself up handing him a glass of water along with several pills. "Take these for me?"

He nods, obediently tossing the pills into his mouth. I hand him the tea next and he takes a few tentative sips.

"Thank you, that's really good." He says quietly.

"You're welcome. You think you can eat anything?"

He shakes his head.

"Okay, I’d like you to try to eat at some point, you need to energy so you can recover."

"Mmk." He mumbles settling back down on the couch.

"There's soup in the fridge from the market, I'm leaving all the medication out here and a couple of glasses of water. Is there anything else you need?

"Are you leaving?" He asks looking adorably confused.

"I don't want to overstay my welcome. You should try to rest, I'll head out and check in on you tomorrow."

He sits up straighter, shaking his head. "Want you." He mumbles.

Oh my god, he's determined to kill me slowly. Those are not the words I should be hearing from him, and yet they're the exact ones that make me the happiest. I swallow the lump in my throat. "Maybe….maybe you should call Andrew."

"Andrew isn't here, you are."

"I know, sweetie, but maybe he would be here if you told him how you were feeling, maybe he didn't realize how bad it was." As much as I want to, it isn't my place, Andrew should have the chance to be here.

Derek reaches for his phone unlocking it swiping at the screen before handing it over to me. It's a text exchange starting just over a week ago.

Drew: You think you caught a cold? You know how important this film is for my career and what I had to do to get here. I’m lucky they granted me the week off when I was sick. I think it's best if I don't stay here for the next week or so.

Derek: I understand I wouldn't want to compromise your work

Just yesterday another text had come in from Andrew. It was demanding and all about him, no genuine inquiry about Derek or how he was feeling.

Drew: Please tell me you're feeling better, I have a very important dinner that came up tonight. It's exclusive, red tie, and they expect partners to be there.

Derek: I'm sorry Drew, but I'm really sick. I’m not working, not even from home. I passed out on a conference call. I don’t have the energy and more I don’t want to expose anyone else to this.

Drew: Are you fucking kidding me Derek? You’ve been sick for over a week now, I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t stick around you, there’s no way you had what I had if you’re still sick, you must have picked up whatever you have at work.

Drew:  You know what, I’m calling you answer your phone.

That’s the last exchange. I’m stunned, Andrew seemingly doesn't care at all. "You’ve been feeling ill for a week, you passed out at work?" I ask panic infused in my tone.

"It’s not as bad as it sounds, I really only started feeling truly laid up awful a few days ago and as for passing out I've been working from home so I don't spread this around the office and started coughing got a little woozy on a call and boom down I went."

"Jesus" I respond handing him his phone back a million questions swirling through my mind about his and Andrew's relationship, none I have the right to ask.

"So you ss-ssss-sss-HheeH-"

HaH..Heh'sssS'Ktchh! ... Hhah’KkkSTchoo ... eh-tschuu ... Ahh-tschu!

He sniffs reaching for a tissue.

"Bless you" I whisper.

"Thank you. Will you please stay?" He asks resigned almost dejected.

My resolve completely crumbles, I run my hand through his hair. "Yeah, okay." I concede. "Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up.

"You will?" He asks his voice soft and filled with a longing that breaks my heart.

"Of course." I promise.

"Thank you," he murmurs snuggling under the blanket and drifting back off to sleep.

I situate myself in a recliner chair across from the couch, losing myself to my thoughts. Reeling at what I just read and what Derek just revealed to me. Seeing how Andrew so casually tosses him aside makes me seethe.  I don't understand how Derek can have a boyfriend who treats him that way, doesn't cherish him. It seems I'm not the only one who has been hiding things which is precisely why I can't say anything. He's been reticent about Andrew for a reason, and I'm sure if it weren't for his sick addled brain it would remain that way. I also can't base their entire relationship on one text exchange. It's suspect to be sure but it's possible that it is an isolated incident, or maybe the texts were taken out of context. I do know that trying to make it big as an actor in LA is cutthroat, if this is his big shot he's probably under a lot of pressure. I should reserve judgment without knowing more. What's more is it isn't my business to know more. All I can do is just show Derek that I'm here for him right now, strictly as a friend. I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a series of erratic inhales.

Hhah-SSs'Tchu!

There’s a 10 second delay and I think maybe it will be just the one sneeze and Derek will be able to settle back to sleep but right as I think that there’s another sharp inhale.

Hhuh…Hhah..Hh-EekSSs'Tchu!

The second expulsion is a bit more pronounced, more forceful and Derek stirs his eyes opening blearily.

Ah-kTSchhu ... Heh-chuuh … Tschh!

"Bless you," I say softly checking my phone for the time. He’d at least managed to catch just under 45 minutes of sleep. Enough time for the meds to kick in and hopefully alleviate some of his symptoms. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't ask,” he groans burying his face into the couch cushion.

"That good eh?"

"My throat feels like I swallowed a cactus and then threw it up."

I can't help but huff a laugh at that. "Well that's certainly quite the description." And so perfectly what I would expect from Derek.

He lifts his head just a bit, he opens his mouth to say something but his face contorts and he buries his face back in the cushion muffling a couple of sneezes.

Hhah-MmpK'Xshu ... Hh-Mmmp’sshue ... MmpTXk

"Bless you."

"Thanks."

"Let's see what we can do about your throat" I say getting up from the chair and walking into the kitchen grabbing some items and returning to him "Alright we have warm water with honey and lemon and ginger ale." I say with a flourish setting both down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He reaches for the mug of warm water first taking a sip.

"Mmm" he sighs, a look of contentment on his face. He glances over at me his brow furrowing. "You’re still in your shoes? Son of an aristocrat! Where are my manners, please make yourself at home. Get comfortable. I'm sorry I didn't offer earlier."

I chuckle "I think I can forgive you the lapse in judgment."

When I make no move to do as he says he frowns, blinks, and then goes stiff. "Oh right, you probably need to get going, I've kept you long enough. Thank you for the groceries."

Well shit, I definitely don’t want him thinking my balking is in anyway related to my not wanting to be here. "I'd like to stay if you'll have me. It's just if I'm going to get comfortable there's something I should share with you."

"You're not leaving?" He whispers.

"That was not my intention, no.”

He lets out a relieved sigh, the tension draining from his face.

I smile. "Is it alright to sit down?" I ask gesturing to the seat next to him.

"Please" He responds.

"So you know how I told you that I was medically discharged because of my allergies?"

He nods.

"It might have become so, but that wasn't exactly the reason why, or at least not the primary reason." I say hesitantly.

He blinks, then nods. "Oh, okay." I can tell he's curious but I appreciate that he doesn't ask for details he just slides closer to me holding out his hand in a silent show of support. I immediately take it. I take several steadying breathes while Derek waits patiently for me to continue.

"The truth is, I lost my left leg in a recon got bad. I’m amputated below the knee." I say pulling up the pant leg of my jeans to reveal the metal of my prosthetic.

He sucks in a breath his expression morphing through an array of emotions before he asks, "Would it be alright to hug you?”

I’d braced myself for any manner of well-meaning but sometimes offensive and thoughtless comments so it takes my brain half a moment to catch up. Do I want this immensely gorgeous and adorable man to embrace me while I share with him the most painful and difficult experience of my life?

"Yeah, that would be really nice actually." I say giving him a grateful smile.

He wastes no time pulling me into a tight embrace, holding me close. "I'm so glad that your still here, that you’re alive, and you’re safe and that I have had the opportunity to meet you." He says fiercely his arms squeezing around me.

"Me too." I whisper.

“Thank you for telling me, I appreciate the trust and the confidence. I haa-hhaa- ohh no-" he stammers pulling away from me reaching for several tissues and bringing them up to cover his face.

Hhah..hhah..Hhuh…Hhah..Hh’hh’Hhuh-TssT'Chu! ... Huh-choo ... Huh-ksssT’chu ... Hehh-tshh … Heh-choo!

"Bless you.”

"Thank you. As I was saying, I have a few questions, would it be okay to ask them right now?"

This has been the biggest thing I've struggled with since becoming an amputee, the questions, the wandering eyes when I'm in public, the stares, the whispers. It's why I've worked so hard to appear fully able bodied. It's why my handicap tag is stored in the middle console of my car and I don't use it when I do go out. It's also why I don't go out on days where I'm in too much pain or the prosthesis is too uncomfortable and I would need to use it. It's why I always wear pants to hide the prosthetic. I don't want the pity or the questions. But as I look at Derek and his open expression and kind eyes, I know that it's safe. I also appreciate that he asked if it was alright it makes me feel empowered in a way I never thought I would talking about it, so I nod. "Go ahead."

"Will it be more comfortable while you’re here to remove the prosthetic?"

Again he surprises me, of all the questions he could have asked that was not the first one I’d expected. "Actually, yes it would. I generally remove it when I'm at home. It helps against irritation if I don't wear it all the time. Since I'm also still relatively newly amputated I'm still adjusting to the prosthetic and am still at a stage where I’m at high risk of infection and other complications so it’s better for me not to wear it for extended periods of time all the time. I'm also more prone to swelling throughout the day which changes how well the prosthetic fits. So having it off when I'm just lounging around is beneficial."

"Well then, as your gifted ruler, I must advise that you should do so."

"Okay" I laugh. I lean forward and remove the prosthetic leaning it on the other-side of the couch leaning back into the couch with sigh.

"Better?" He asks and I can’t help but note that his eyes don’t immediately flicker to my stump, instead, they’re trained on my face without even a hint in his expression that suggests he wants to look. That means more to me then he could possibly know, sometimes people don’t look because they know it isn’t polite but you can almost always tell and see in their expression that they want to. I get it, I’m an anomaly in a world built for the abled, people are going to ogle, people are going to be curious, but some days being a spectacle for the masses can be a tough reality to accept. With Derek’s reaction, I already feel infinitely more relaxed about sharing this with him.

"Yes" I smile. "What's your next question?"

"Now that you've shared this with me, how can I best support you? What would that look like?"

I'm not sure what else I’d been expecting him to ask, but again it wasn't this. "That might vary from day to day, especially because until now you've only seen me on my good days, I’ve made sure of that.” I say a little sheepishly but he just nods in understanding.

“Primarily, don't treat me any differently please.” I continue “I think that's one of the reasons why I’ve been so hesitant to tell you. I’ve only just gotten to the point that I can function without it being glaringly obvious that I’m not fully able bodied and you’re the first person I've truly interacted with from that position and it was nice to interact with someone where I wasn’t being treated as different, or broken, or even special."

"That's understandable." He says squeezing my hand.

I squeeze back in response before continuing. “When it’s more visibly notable that I’m an amputee it is really uncomfortable to be in public. It’s very obvious that people don't know how to handle or address me, it's like my very existence makes them feel awkward and uncomfortable. I'm no longer just a guy. I'm a guy with a disability that no one knows how to deal or interact with. There’s a whole gambit of reactions none of which feel exceptionally good.” I pause collecting my thoughts, as I recall some of the more unpleasant interactions I’ve encountered.

“People either go over the top trying to accommodate me, they constantly try to help when it isn’t necessary, or they are afraid to be around me and act as if I'm made of glass, they pity me, or they attempt to say something that was meant to be well-meaning and complimentary that in execution is ableist, thoughtless, and harmful. It can be really isolating and mentally draining. Adapting to this life change has been extremely hard, and somedays it's endlessly exhausting to live in a world that isn't built for me, not being fully able bodied, and a lot of my life right now is dedicated to learning how I can fit in this way, but I am more than an amputee. I like that I can be that with you. I like that I've never been this disabled person that you have to try and navigate or manage. You and I got off on the right foot and I liked not being constantly reminded that I'm missing my left." I finish with a smirk.

He bursts out laughing which quickly transforms into a very bronchial sounding cough.

"Shit! Sorry." I exclaim passing him some water. "Guess we should save the amputation jokes for later huh?"

"It's fine," he wheezes out between coughs, taking a long drink from the glass before continuing. “That just means I can hit you with this. I understand what you’re saying, you can stand on your own two feet and don't need anyone treating you differently."

It's my turn to laugh and damn if it doesn’t feel good to laugh about this with someone. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I need. Thank you for joking along with me and not getting offended on my behalf. There’s this interesting phenomenon when you become someone with a disability in which you constantly feel like you have to make the able-bodied people around you feel comfortable so in an effort to ensure their comfort you make yourself smaller I guess is the best way to describe it. You're always censoring yourself, and intentionally drawing attention to the fact that you’re not able-bodied becomes this gigantic taboo.

“When it first happened I wasn’t prepared to accept the reality not even through humor but now that I’ve worked through initial shock, grief, and trauma, my inclination now would be to crack jokes about it. A lot of why I’ve refrained from doing so recently, comes from that inherent tendency to ensure that I don’t make those around me any more uncomfortable with my existence than is already there on a base-level. There’s this joke in the community ‘how can you tell an amputee from an able-bodied person? The amputee will laugh at the amputee jokes while the able-bodied person will claim their offensive.’"

Derek chuckles. "We as a society do have a nasty habit of becoming spokes-people for those we stigmatize and oppress. Savior complex at its finest. The best person to speak on what they need is the person itself, you are the authority on this, no one else. In which case the best thing that we can do, that I can do, is allow you to speak for yourself. You guide my through our interactions and what is appropriate or not. It's not my place to make decisions about what is right for you, nor is it right for me to speak for you based on my own able-bodied ideology."

"Exactly, thank you for getting that. Now, is there anything else you wanted to ask me?

“Not at the moment."

"Really? You don't want to know what happened." I ask surprised because that's what everyone wants to know.

"Do you really want to share that right now?" he quirks his eyebrow "I get the sense this was a lot for you to share with me already."

Yet again his response is so unexpected. I can understand the curiosity, the desire to piece together and understand what happened that made me this way, but in that curiosity, my experience is that people can be a bit tactless and insensitive. Derek has been nothing but considerate with his approach. "It was. I would like to share the whole story with you just maybe not today." I say carefully.

He shrugs "You don't owe anyone the story if you don't wish to share it. Of course I'll listen and give you whatever you need if and when you decide to share with me, but until that time it isn't my place to press for details. I’m grateful for the trust you’ve granted me, and I'm honored that you've felt comfortable enough to share this with me."

My emotions get the best of me and I pull him in for another hug. He readily accepts resting his head into my neck his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin making me shiver. I’m so lost in the embrace that I entirely miss the prelude until

Hah-MmpT’chu … HheH-MmpKtchu ... MmmpTch

He pulls back his eyes wide and face flushing. "Sorry, those hit rather suddenly" he mumbles.

I shake my head. "Bless you. It's okay, sweetie." And I really have to stop with that word.

"But I don't ww-www-wwaaant-"

Huh..Hah..Haa-kchu…Hh-SsT’Chu … Hih-ktsch’uu ... Heh-tsch ... Haa-shoo

"Excuse me. I don't want you to catch this."

"Why don't you let me worry about that, and you focus solely on getting yourself well okay?" He gives me a small smile nodding in acquiescence. "Good. Now speaking of getting you well, I think it's high time you ate something. I'm going to go heat some soup. Would you like anything else while I'm up?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, if you think of anything just holler."

In the kitchen I pull the chicken noodle soup from the fridge, placing a pot on the stove heating the soup, soup always tastes so much better when warmed over the stove than in the microwave. While the soup warms, I plate some saltine crackers. As I continue to prepare food I hear Derek begin sneezing from the living room. I'm not overly concerned until it doesn't stop. I’ve counted 12 sneezes and that was however many came before I began counting.

Hah..ha..ehh..hhh..Hh-tshhuuu... Hah-kshoo ... Heh-Kkss’chu ... Hehh-tchoo ... Huh-tshoo .. Hehh-tshieew!

I'm quick to leave the soup on low, setting the crackers aside, and immediately returning to the living room. I see him doubled over, his hands clutching a wad of tissues pressed up against his nose and mouth, his entire body shaking from the force of the expulsions.

Hah-tschuu... Heh-KkSshuu.... Ahh-tschuuh ... Huh-tchoo ... Hehh-tschoo ... Hah-chu ... Huh-kshoo ... Ah-tschuu 

"Bless you, are you alright?"

"Mmm-hmmm." He nods but his expression is still vaguely sneezy.

I sit beside him he leans against me, an invitation which I readily take to touch him. "I've got you," I whisper.

"Th-th-thh-Hhaa-kkSSsh'chu-thh-ank you." He stammers sniffling wetly before he's pitched forward with another volley of intensely rapid sneezes.

Huh-ktschu ... Hih-chiew ... Ahh-shoo ... Hehh-kchoo ... Huh-tschu ... Hah-tshoo .. Heh-tschuu ... Ahh-chioo ... Hehh-kscho ... Huh-ktschh!

"Oh my god, bless you." I say handing him another tissue. He takes it, bringing it up to his nose, blowing wetly.

"Excuse me." He says, his cheeks flushing crimson.

"Don't worry about it."

Huh-tschhu … Ahh-tschu … Hih-chiew ... Hhah..Aah..Hah-kshoo ... Hehh-tshh!

"Holy buckets. Now I know how you feel on a daily basis. Sheesh, I definitely have new respect for you hero."

I chuckle.

Hih-kschoo… Ahh-choo..Hah-chuushh!!

“Jeez-a-loo I am so sorry.”

"Derek, stop. Seriously, you're sick, this is perfectly normal, you have nothing to apologize for." I say and before my brain can catch up and tell me I shouldn't, I kiss the top of his head. Shit! It's far too easy to forget myself around him, especially seeing him like this. "I'm going to go check on the soup I'll be right back." I say quickly retreating to kitchen needing some distance to regain my senses.

In the kitchen I take several deep breathes. I need to get it together. I'm supposed to be here as a friend, a concerned and caring friend, but nothing more. I can't be calling him pet names, or kissing his head, or holding him for an extended period of time, or thinking about how badly I want all these little domesticities with him and how this is giving me a taste of something I can never have with him. I prepare a bowl of the soup, grab one of the smoothie's from the fridge, and with a final steadying breath head back out to the living room.

"Thank you" he says in that heart-achingly soft way of his when I put the items down in front of him.

"You're welcome." I say returning to the sofa but ensure I sit with the entire middle seat cushion between us. He makes it through most of his soup and all the smoothie before he says he can't eat anymore. Which honestly was more than I had expected him to get through. We throw on a movie and settle into a comfortable silence. I don't know how it happened but suddenly I find myself with a lapful of sleeping Derek. He'd managed to maneuver himself until his head was in my lap his arm wrapped around my thigh.

He's fast asleep. His chest rising and falling evenly, his cheeks slightly flushed. His features are completely relaxed, and despite my earlier resolve of needing to maintain distance between us, I have no intention of disturbing him now that he's finally found some sleep, my fingers twitch with the desire to run my fingers through his hair. As if on cue a couple of strands fall over his eyes. My hand immediately goes up to brush the locks aside. The motion is so automatic I barely register that it's happening. As soon as my fingertips graze his forehead he lets out a contented sigh. Oh, fuck it. I fully give into the impulse card my fingers through his hair, and he snuggles in closer. My heart stutters, skips a beat, and then hammers wildly in my chest. 

Romance has been out of the question since my discharge and even its sloppy cousin casual sex hasn't been around, too ashamed over my missing limb. Being around Derek though has both ringing on my door. He shifts nuzzling into me dangerously close to the inseam of my jeans, and yep, hello libido how have you been? This is about to get awkward. Once more my allergies rush to my aid.

Hhiihh’TXTCH!  HH’MppPTCH!  Hheh'NGTCH-uh! Hhhh' KNGTXch! Hhhh' KNGTXtch-uuhh!!

I stifle them as best as I can pinching my nose fiercely, also doing my best to keep myself mostly steady so as not to jostle him awake. He snuffles cutely before settling back seemingly undisturbed but my nose is not so ready to settle down. I check the time, sure enough, it's entered that time of day where my allergy medication is mostly wearing off.

Hhh’TSCHissh  Hhh’HMPPTSCH-ew!  Hhh’NNTCH! Hehhh'TXTCH-uu! H-Hih'NNXTCH-ew!  Hhhh’TSCHEEH-uh!

My nose is tickling insistently and I can feel the sneezes building up and coming closer and closer together. I'm able to contain most of them but can't keep myself from jolting with each sneeze, especially with how I'm stifling them the force still needs some way to exit my body, causing him to stir.

"What's going on?" he asks groggily.

"I'm just, uhh- Hhe'TSSSSSSCH-uu! Hh-Hhh'NTCH! Hehh'NXXTSCH-ew! Hhi'HHHTS'CHHue! -getting a little, heh'NghN'CH! -sneezy, nothing to worry about, I'm sorry I woke you."

He reaches for his phone "Cripes, is that the time? No wonder you’re sneezing. Your medication is probably wearing off isn't it?"

Hehhh'TNGTXCH! H-Hhhh'TTXSCH-ew!

"Well that answers that" he giggles but is interrupted by his own sneeze resulting in us simultaneously sneezing.

Hahh..Haa…Huh-tchoo … Haa-tschhuu ... Ahh-ktschuu!

He finishes before me

Heh'ISSHoo! Hih'TSSSHu! Hih’issssSShew! Hheh’ISSssTchHue! Heh’ISSHTchuu!

When my fit dies we both look at each other before bursting with laughter until he starts coughing. I silently reach for the glass of water and hand it to him.

"Thank you, it's easy to forget that I'm walking death warmed over when I'm with you." He says a wide smile still on his face. 

"Yeah, that's not me, that would be the medication doing its job. Speaking of we should get another set in you and then stagger the dosages so you have something active in your system mitigating the worst of your symptoms at all times."

"Sounds like a plan but umm I don't think that it's just the meds making me feel better. It's nice to have someone here, thank you." He says a little shyly.

"I'm happy to serve as a distraction. Being sick sucks."

"You got that right." He sighs.

After we get more medication in him we start another movie but the next thing I know I'm waking up to the sound of violent coughing. I sit up, Derek's hunched over himself holding his chest as the forceful gurgling coughs rack his body. The fit extends for literal minutes, he struggles to take gasping breathes in between, so much so his face turns red and he's gagging. "Jesus" I mutter sitting up to rub soothing circles into his back trying to comfort him but otherwise feeling utterly helpless. When it finally passes he sinks back into me. I don't think twice about wrapping my arms around him. "Are you alright?" I ask softly passing him a glass of water, checking the time it's just after 11 PM.

"Just dandy" he croaks.

"That sounded really painful." I say concern tinging my tone.

"I'm okay." He murmurs "Just want to sleep." He says.

"Do you want to go to your bed? You might be more comfortable there."

"Don't want to move. Want to stay with you."

"Oh."

"Is that alright?" He whispers.

I should say no, I should urge him to go to his bed, my brain is going to get ideas if we stay like this. Ideas it shouldn't have. But with his big sad puppy dog eyes looking up at me, I'm powerless.

"Yes, it's alright." I say softly rearranging myself to give him more room to lay on the couch but he situates himself so his head is on my chest his hand grabbing hold of the front of my shirt. It's not even ten minutes later that Derek begins coughing again. It's rough and deep and wrenching. He scrambles off me.

"Be back" he wheezes out rushing down the hall.

A few moments later I hear a horrible retching sound followed by a series of hacking coughs. I put on my prosthetic and follow him.

I knock gently on the door. "Der?" I call out softly. All I get is an answering groan. "Can I come in?"

There's a pause and then. "Please" he croaks before another wave of coughs consume him.

I enter and the sight before me makes my stomach churn. He's hunched over the toilet, his shoulders shaking from the force of the coughs. "Can't.....breathe...." He wheezes in between hacks his lips tinged blue.

"Shit." I whisper. I grab a washcloth and dampen it with warm water and kneel down beside him. "Let's see what we can do." I say gently placing the cloth over his forehead and running a soothing hand up and down his back.

"Ow" he mumbles after the last round slowly abates.

"Alright, I'm taking you to the hospital." I say.

"No...no...I'll be fine."

"Maybe you will be and you can lay into me later for over-reacting, but you've had symptoms for over a week now and correct me if I'm wrong but instead of getting better you seem to be getting worse. You're coughing so much and so hard your face turns the color of the queen's guard. I'd feel better if you got evaluated, if it's just a really nasty bug or something then we know, but it could be something worse, or at minimum something that requires prescribed treatment. Please?" I plead.

He takes a ragged breath, and nods.

"Okay. Thank you." I say, relieved.

Two hours later after they've taken imaging, hooked Derek up to IV fluids and administered a nebulizer treatment we're sitting in an examination room the doctor advising that he has whooping cough, and a fractured rib from all the coughing.

"We'll send you home with a prescription for antibiotics, I want you to suspend any over the counter cold and flu medication, especially cough syrup, you can take pain killers like Advil, the fracture will heal on its own."

"But I don't understand, I'm vaccinated against whooping cough."

"The vaccine while effective isn't 100% preventative, if you've been exposed to someone with it, unfortunately you can still contract it even if you're fully vaccinated. Symptoms are usually milder and less risky if you get it while fully vaccinated."

"Well, I don't think my body got the memo that this is supposed to be a mild case." he huffs through his umpteenth coughing fit since we've arrived.

The doctor gives Derek a sympathetic look "The antibiotics will help, but unfortunately there's no real treatment for the cough, you just need to let it run its course." She turns to me "Whooping cough is highly contagious, we generally recommend post-exposure treatment for any household members because of the high probability of being infected, do you live together?"

I know the question that will follow if I answer. I also enough about Derek to know he will feel infinitely guilty over my answer to said follow-up question. I also know that we will be told to self-isolate even from each other so as not to risk me being further exposed. The thought of Derek having to endure this alone is crushing so I do something I've never done - lie to a medical professional. "Yes"  I say. I can feel Derek's eyes boring into me but I refuse to look at him in that moment maintaining eye contact with the doctor.

She nods. "I'll write you a prescription for that as well. You'll both have to self-isolate while you're still contagious. You should be noninfectious after 5 full days of antibiotics but to be safe we recommend isolating for the next 10 days, and we want you-" she turns back to me "to monitor for onset of any symptoms. Do you have any questions?"

We both shake our heads. "Okay, I'll let the nurse know and she'll get you all settled and your discharge paperwork together. I hope you start feeling better."

"Thanks." Derek says hoarsely.

She leaves and once the door is closed Derek turns to me his brow furrowing. "Wh-why did you tell her we live together?"

I shrug "It was the easiest solution."

"What do you mean?" 

Thankfully the nurse enters the room at that moment and I don't have to answer, not so thankfully he doesn't let it drop and brings it up once we're in my car.

"So are you going to elucidate your reasoning behind why you lied to the doctor?"

I sigh. "Because, I knew that if I said no the recommendation would be that we isolate separate from each other and it didn't sit right with me for you to be alone." I don't tell him that if I said no the question about us living together the doctor would ask me if I'm at risk for developing a severe infection were I to get whooping cough which because of being an amputee I would have to reply yes to and that would definitely mean we would have to self-isolate separately. Perhaps it’s wrong of me but I want to spare Derek the guilt and regret he'd feel if he knew that fact.

"You, you want to stay with me for 10 days while I recover?" he asks thoroughly befuddled.

"Yes, well, if you'd like me to that is."

He blinks "No, wait hold-up. You want to stay with me for a full 10 days 5 of which will increase your risk of contracting this from me?"

"Yes, I do."

"Why? I don't understand why would you do that? I can't believe I'm saying this but it's looking like Andrew had the right idea to stay away from me through this, and it's turning out he made the right call. It really was coincidental that we got sick within days of each other, which reminds me I should message him so he knows to stay away for the next few weeks and he'll gladly take it but you, you want to willingly stay with me when you know how highly contagious what I have is. I just....why?"

I don't have an answer. Or more accurately I can't say the answer that is screaming in my mind and on the tip of my tongue. So I give him a partial truth. I'm getting really good at imparting those onto Derek in particular. "I care about you Derek and no one should experience a severe illness alone. The doctor prescribed me the preventative antibiotics as well which we can pick up tonight and you heard her, they're extremely effective in protecting against secondary cases. I can wear a mask as well. It'll be fine."

The silence stretches for an extended period. When he speaks again his tone is softer, more timid, his voice cracking with emotion "No one ever chooses me. No one ever wants just me. In the end they all leave."

My heart shatters for this exquisite human who has been made to feel so unworthy and disposable and so I give him a full truth. "Derek, in a line-up of a billion people I'd pick you every time. In a crowded room my eyes would see only you. If my options are being separate from you for 10 days while you recover from a contagious illness or staying by your side for 10 days while you recover, well I chose the latter. Ten days with you no matter the circumstances is always going to be better than 10 days apart."

His eyes widen and his mouth drops open a small 'o' before his eyes water and he quickly looks out the window. "I'd appreciate it very much if you stayed with me, Kalen." He whispers.

"Well then buckle up buttercup because for the next 10 days you're stuck with me."

The tension he was wearing melts away, a soft, cautious though still genuine smile lifts the corners of his mouth, "Okay, thank you."

My stomach flip flops. Ten full days, 240 hours of living with Derek. There’s no way I'll come out of this unaltered in some way. On the outside it will be imperceptible but I know that spending that much time with Derek will shift something in me on a molecular level and who I am ten days from now is going to be a different person from the me of the present.

~TBC~

Edited 7 hours ago by Not Telling
Grammatical and spelling errors

[AntheaHolmes]

Oh my god. My heart is so full for these two!!! Karen's story is so sad but I really liked the way Derek responded to his amputee history. I can also understand that Kalen has the desire to look able bodied being a soldier and all. It's just a big part of him but the way he takes care of Derek, gosh it presses all my buttons. Can't wait for more allergy sneezes from Kalen, maybe a bad day in regards of his leg as he and Derek are getting closer or a stuck together while being quarantined. And I hope that we all agree that Andrew can go f*** himself!!! Why can't he just disappear!!! He's not doing good for anyone! Not Nix and not Derek. He really should seek some therapy!!! 

[YuriY7890]

Oh my gosh!! I love this story! Derek and Kalen are just too cute 🥰 but yeah, Andrew needs to just go... I absolutely LOVE your writing!!! ❤️

[dwaekki]

Omg! The suspense 😫 I'm so happy that Kalen has started being much more daring in this chapter, but I'm worried about what will happen if/when Andrew finds out about the two of them. Let's get him out of the picture quickly please 🥰

I loved all the sneezes so much, especially Kalen's desperate attempt to stifle whilst Derek slept on his lap, I really am a sucker for big guys with tiny stifles. 

I hope you update this soon because I can't wait to see what happens! 💕

[ichixshiro14]

This chapter was so good!! I love how you normalize disability and show what a healthy relationship should be (even if they're not official). I so look forward to more! Here's hoping Andrew has a fit when he hears about the isolation and hits something so hard on set that it ricochets at him and he never returns 😜

[Mrs.Primrose]

Aaaaah, how am I *just* now finding this story? I love “The Advertisement,” and this is equally captivating!

Even pretending for a moment that there was no sneezing, you cover so many interesting topics and with such an informed perspective, like the disability experience and…I can’t remember, there were other things. I’d be really curious to learn more about you. 
Also, I was all set to tell you that whooping cough is viral and antibiotics won’t work, but I looked it up, and YOU WERE RIGHT! I’m vaccinated against it too, and I had no idea it was a bacterium. Thank you for teaching me something!

I can’t keep pretending that the sneezing wasn’t there, so thank you also for some amazing sneezing fits from BOTH the characters. I’m impressed!

[Not Telling]

@AntheaHolmes As always, thanks so much for your thoughts and comments. I'm so glad that Derek and Kalen are winning you over. I'll address your comment end to start. Definitely, Andrew is a toxic manipulative almost certainly a clinical narcissist that 100% requires therapy. Sometimes it's like you can read my mind and know what I have prepared for our lovies. 

@YuriY7890 Hi lovely, thank you for your comment. ❤️ It's sometimes funny how inspiration and stories hit. Kalen and Derek weren't a blip in the radar but while I was writing about Derek's character in The Advertisement I just knew he needed his own story. As soon as that thought materialized Kalen began to take shape, at first he was this more or less nebulous character - a self-effacing gentle military veteran plagued with allergies - but even then I knew he was exactly who I wanted for Derek because exactly as you stated they are so cute together.

@dwaekki 

On 9/16/2024 at 9:16 AM, dwaekki said:

Omg! The suspense 😫 I'm so happy that Kalen has started being much more daring in this chapter, but I'm worried about what will happen if/when Andrew finds out about the two of them. Let's get him out of the picture quickly please 🥰

 So I actually had this whole plan for how this storyline would unfold, which was completely decimated while writing this next chapter and it was forced to take on a completely different shape than my original intention. I have learned that sometimes, especially in the heat of creation, characters are just going to take on a life of their own and guide the narrative in a way that defies the original intention, unexpectedly shifting course. I'm just a mere vessel for the characters to speak, a conduit for their thoughts and emotions to be laid out on the page and I'm more or less left to their whims. I love this aspect of writing, this sort of colloborative effort and dance between creator and creation. For my own writing process I try to be open and receptive to desires, truths, and destinations the characters are wanting me to share, it can be disorienting when they completely overhaul what I had outlined in my mind. I struggle sometimes to accept their decisions and where their leading me, desperate to steer them back on the track that I original desired. Inevitably, every single time I'm compelled back in the direction that they want me to go in some fashion or another. Often the story being written in the way that I want stalls out and I get severe writer's block. As soon as I back-track and go down the deviated path the words flow effortlessly. Once I can let go of my original intent and plan I realize that their chosen path lead to a far richer, more authentic, and overall better narrative anyways. While I'll be honest and admit that I'm still marginally holding onto my original intent for how this would go down, I at least think you'll be in favor of the new arc. 

On 9/16/2024 at 9:16 AM, dwaekki said:

I loved all the sneezes so much, especially Kalen's desperate attempt to stifle whilst Derek slept on his lap, I really am a sucker for big guys with tiny stifles. 

The way Kalen sneezes was honestly one of my favorite things about him when he was coming to life. It's strange, or actually probably not strange, how sometimes the thing that trips me up the most with a story that I contribute on this forum is the sneezing. I will agonize over it to an absurd degree. I agonize over innocuous details like the puncuation - should I use dash or an apostrophe in between "syllables" and build-ups. How do I want to space and puncuate build-ups? Uppercase? Bold? I'll even go so far as to induce myself to replicate a sneeze aspect I'm planning on writing. Obsessive? No absolutely not, I'm just totally dedicated to this craft. 😅

@ichixshiro14 Yay! I'm so glad that you liked the last update. I was excited to have finally gotten to the chapter where I planned to reveal that Kalen is an amputee and I'm really glad that the aspects I really wanted to capture were there. 

@Mrs.Primrose Well hello! Better late then never as they say, glad that you did somehow find your way to this story and left this kind and wonderful comment. Thank you. ❤️ 

On 9/20/2024 at 8:55 PM, Mrs.Primrose said:

Even pretending for a moment that there was no sneezing, you cover so many interesting topics and with such an informed perspective, like the disability experience and…I can’t remember, there were other things. I’d be really curious to learn more about you. 

*blush* Thank you, trust me my characters are infinitely more compelling than me.  

I really appreciate you calling out how I've written a character that is in amputee. I put a lot of thoughtfulness, care, and sensitivity when introducing this element to ensure I was representating it accurately, not reducing him to just to his disability while also not over-simplyfing the experience of living with a disability, avoiding reinforcing harmful stereotypes, and not perpetuating ableism. 

On 9/20/2024 at 8:55 PM, Mrs.Primrose said:

I was all set to tell you that whooping cough is viral and antibiotics won’t work, but I looked it up, and YOU WERE RIGHT! I’m vaccinated against it too, and I had no idea it was a bacterium. Thank you for teaching me something!

Haha, yeah I think the fact that it can be vaccinated trips a lot of people up since the majority of vaccines are viral and there are only a handful of standard baterial vaccines. Bacteria is general far more complex organisms than viruses which make them more difficult to target. When incorporating aspects such as this especially in a contemporary setting I do try to be accurate. I'm willing to suspend disbelief on a number of things even when reading stories that take place in a contemporary non sci-fi setting, but especially in contemporary settings, I am actually a huge stickler about small details being accurate both in my writing and in my reading. If you're breaking mathematical, physical, biological, or chemical law in a universe where it wouldn't make sense to do so it irks me. I once read a book in which a character fell out of boat into the ocean and the author detailed that the water was -15 degrees and although up until that point I hadn’t had any major qualms with the story I could not get past the inaccuracy, it totally took me out of the story. Saltwater freezes at approximately 28 degrees F/-2C you literally cannot have water temperature that is -15 degrees in either F or C. It would not be water. Anyways, there you go, something about me. haha

_________________________________________

Hello forum friends. Welcome back to this story if you are returning and welcome if you are a new reader. Hope this finds you well. I am posting this much later than I had anticipated, but I'm committed now so here we are haha. 

First things first, content warnings for this chapter. We all know that Andrew is a manipulative, toxic, abusive *insert profane insult of your choosing* I have kept most of this off-page, however we do see more of his direct toxic behavior and how he mistreats Derek on page in this chapter. It isn't anything incredibly overt but there is verbal manipulation, coercion tactics, and low-key threats. While I did try to handle this with sensitivity, if this is subject matter that is triggering for you please take care of yourself. There are 2 conversations/scenes in particular that could be emotionally affecting. There wasn't a great way to call this out in the body of the work, I have indicated these parts by using the tag [CW] just before the start of the scene/conversation and the tag [End CW] when the conversation/scene ends. 

I did plan to say more about this chapter but I have been drafting this post for the better part of 10 hours so with no more gilding the lily and without further ado whatsover I present to you the next chapter. 

Please enjoy. ❤️ 

_________________________________________

Chapter 5: Derek

There’s this thing that I do, that I’m a bit of a master of, actually. I can converse with people without ever revealing anything too personal about myself. The art of it however, is that I am able to do this - sharing inconsequential information about myself, all while creating an illusion that I’ve imparted something deeply meaningful and personal about myself, lending to this perception that people are getting to know me when in reality everything someone knows about me is this carefully selected and intentionally doled out and curated tidbit of seemingly personal information that I chose to be shared and controlled to what extent. What I reveal is this carefully crafted and constructed image of myself that while not necessarily untrue, is specific in its presentation, and often does not provide visibility into the deeper stuff. If I was an iceberg, let's just say, I would be sinking ships far greater than the Titanic.

It almost brings me this sense of pride that I can operate with such a polished façade, a victory over vulnerability. It's just easier this way, what I've learned about people is they want the fantasy, they want the upgraded version that doesn't have any bugs or flaws to contend with on a daily basis and that functions optimally at all times, because the truth is, when reality sets in, everyone runs in the opposite direction.

It's only been one night with Kalen and I can tell being around him, while I'm sick, feeling a bit exposed, and not operating at peak function, is going to make maintaining this illusion nigh impossible. How am I expected to be with him for the next 10 days and not strip myself totally bare - and I mean that in more ways than one.

While I offered him the guest bedroom he had insisted on staying with me in case I needed anything during the night. Well I wasn't about to offer him the floor of my bedroom so instead we both took residence on the couch. While it wasn't the most ideal sleeping arrangement especially for someone of his size waking up in his brawny arms and nestled against his strong body was I’ll admit, everything.

"Morning" he mumbles into my back my. Oh sweet lord, his morning voice is deliciously rough, his deep baritone voice coming out all textured and sensuous.

I shift in his arms so I'm on my back turning my head to look at him and wowzers, I'm so glad I did, because in this moment his face is frozen in the sexiest pre-sneeze expression, his facial muscles holding tension, a blend of anticipation and discomfort, his eyes are narrowed, slightly squinted as if he's trying to focus on something just out of sight. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, his nose twitching, his mouth is partially open his upper lip curled upwards. Given our proximity I can tell how his breathing is becoming shallow, there's a brief pause where the need shifts from preparation to execution. He angles his head away from me and -

Hhh-HH'CHMPHT!! Hhih...Hh'KTSHHuh!! Hngh'KTXSssTK!! Hiht'XCHT!! Hehh' PFTCH-uh! Hh...Hiih'KNXTKCh!! Hih' XXKshhh!! Hhhh' TSSssCHoo!! Ihhh'NGCHh-uh!! Hhuh'XNgtSCH!! 'TSChHXkT!! Hhh'tTtSSHUE!! Hiih- XXTChhuh! Hih’XTSCHh!! Hh...HnG’TCHoo!!

His body jostles against mine with each discipline released. Oh what a torturous and delightful way to wake up. Should I beg for mercy or plead for more, such a conundrum.

"Oh god, ex-eeexcuuuse - Hhh'XxxKTch-uh - me" he stammers as soon as his nose allows him.

"Bless you" I whisper my cheeks warming.

"I'm so sorry, I can move." He says beginning to untangle himself from me.

I catch his wrist. "You can move if you want to, but only if you want to. If you're moving out of some sense of duty to spare me from your sneezing, then as your gifted leader, I would have you stay right where you are."

He chuckles. "As you wish, sire. I will not leave the royal sofa unless it is of your command."

"Well if you are in such an abiding mood I must also command that you not to stifle any remaining sneezes, it can't be good for you, or feel very good, or even alleviate the entire reason your body is driven to sneeze in the first place. Additionally, it would not reflect well upon me as your sovereign leader to start the day with your head exploding so you know, maybe you can do us all a favor and just sneeze freely."

"Your concern for my welfare is touching."

"It's just good politics hero."

"Ah, of course. Well, I will not refute your wisdom or dare disobey my benevolent and kind leader." He says with a smirk.

I barely let even the beginnings of a chuckle escape and immediately I am coughing, a literal bone shattering, body wracking fit, deep guttural drags of air that feel like they're being heaved from my chest, wringing out the air capacity in my lungs until they are nothing more but hollow vessels, the force of it doubling me over, each intake of breathe is accompanied by a sharp, high-pitched gasp that sounds like howling wind through a narrow gap. The cough becomes brittle tearing through me in jagged bursts that sounds more reminiscent of snapping branches than any human noise.

I'm only partially aware that Kalen is reorienting us on the couch so we're upright with my back to his front. He proceeds to slip off the straps of my mask around my ears - a measure, that despite his assurance that he was unconcerned and didn't mind, I had firmly insisted upon wearing while we were sleeping to ensure I wasn't a breathing biohazard in his face all night long. He must sense my imminent protest. 

"Just relax sweetie, you can put it back on later if you really want, but you're struggling enough to breathe as it is, and your mask is not helping."

I'm a bit too preoccupied to argue and I can't deny the relief that comes from removing the mask. While I continue to valiantly cross over into the afterlife from respiratory malfunction, Kalen soon becomes consumed with his own air expulsions, though his manifests from his nose rather than his lungs.

"Well we make quite the pair don't we." I say when the grim reaper decides to release me from his clutches and I've earned another day in the land of the living. Kalen has not been similarly released.

Hhhii'IISSSHHue! Hhhii'IISSSTCHHUue!! Hiihh...Hhih...Hhhh'issSTchue Hheh’TssSHU!!! Heh’ISSSsSTChu!

"Bless you"

He sighs, this sexy drawn-out audible trembling release of air, that bridge between the lingering aftermath of the fit and the relief that follows. There’s an unguarded honest vulnerability to it, the way it quivers softly, and gives voice to the reprieve he finds in that moment just after the prior powerful gusts of air.

"Thank you. Alright medication time" He claps his hands together reaching for the now empty glass of water on the coffee table "I'll just go fill this" he says maneuvering around me. I can't be sure, but it seems like he's maybe temporarily forgotten that he isn't wearing his prosthetic. His brain acting in accordance  with being the magnificently brilliant, yet stupid machine that it is, doesn't seem to remind him of the fact that he no longer operates with both limbs, until he's attempting to stand and his legs have no support under them. He loses his balance and starts tipping over. He instinctively reaches for something to brace his fall, which happens to be me, but between the way I'm sitting and his momentum it's too much for me to correct and support him while maintaining both our balance and we both fall to the floor. Thankfully it's not a far drop, we both hit with an oof, him on the floor and me awkwardly on top of him.

"Shit! I'm so sorry, are you alright?" He asks.

"Yep, everything is all good here. I’m a swan, graceful, even when I take a dive, absolutely nothing to worry about. 10 out of 10 for execution and technical ability The artistry was definitely lacking though. A mere 2 out of 10.” He smiles at me indulgently like he’s both endeared and amused. I’m pretty sure I can count on one hand the number of people that find my babblings anything of the sort and not a) confusing 2) annoying d) impossible. To have him fall in the former category, it doesn't just feel like a win, it feels like the ultimate win. I'm talking that capital W, I'm a star NFL player and I just won the Super Series Cup or whatever the appropriate championship is called.

“The more immediate question is are you okay?" I ask. 

"Yeah I think so, though I can't feel my leg."

"Code monkeys! Seriously? Do you think you damaged something?" I hastily begin to scramble off him until I catch the smirk on his lips.

"I mean my left leg." He says pointedly before we make eye contact and burst out laughing.

"You really are okay?" I ask when we've recovered.

"Yeah. The only thing a little worse for the wear might be my ego. God that was so stupid."

“Don’t sweat it hero, I have a tendency to make people a little weak in the knees, I just didn’t think we were quite at the stage where you would be falling for me just yet.”

“Yeah, well you’re one to talk, you got a leg up on me and you still fell." he volleys back.

"Only because you had me floored.” I return.

"Touche. What can I say, if I'm going down you're coming with me."

"I had no idea you were so cut-throat Mr. I just realized I don't actually know your last name."

He laughs "It's Mmm--Mmm-Ohh hh-hold on-"

Hhh'IiSSS'Tchu Hh'IiiSSSShuue HhIh'IISsSSTCHu! HhiiH’ISSTtHIUE!! Hih’IiiSTSHU! Hihh'IISSSHHoo!! Hhii'ISTtCHUE! Hheh'IiissstCHuh!! Hheh'TtSCHhu! Hh-Hheh'ISSSSHOOO!!

Okay I really have to stop finding myself in situations where he is sneezing whilst some body part of his is against me.

HhEh’SssTTiSHu! HhIIH’IISssTTTCHu! HhUH-Hh-Hhuh'IIISsSSTIssHHU!

On second thought, I should seek out all the situations where I find myself against him or him against me whilst he is sneezing.

"Whew, okay, excuse me. Where were we? Oh, right, my last name. It's Mmm-mmm-Ohhh come on – you’re ddd-dddoo-ddoone." He barely manages to wrestle out before a renewed fit bursts from him.

Hheh'IiissstCHuh!! Hheh'TtSCHhu! Hhh-HHII'ISSSSHOOO!!! Hhh'IIsSTchHO! Hhi'IiiSSSSch'tuh!! Hiih'IiissSTchu! Hh'IIsSTtHIUE!

"Jeez, I'm only asking for your last name not the codes to Fort Knox" I laugh.

He grins. "It's Miller."

"Well Kalen Miller, as much as I believe that people should try to stay relatively grounded in most things, I'm not sure we need to take that literally, perhaps we should get up off the floor."

"Agreed."

"Do you want help up or do you want me to get your prosthetic?" I ask.

"Prosthetic please, it should be on the other side of the couch."

I nod and grab the limb from where he says and hand it to him. "Thank you, now let's try this again." he says once the prosthetic is securely attached. He stands up with a flourish "Voila! What do you know, I'm still standing."

"In fact, better than you ever did, and you're looking like a true survivor, almost like Elton John." I giggle.

He does a little bow "Why, thank you your highness. Now how about our first dose of medication and some food."

As I'm following him into the kitchen my phone pings with a notification, the headline is for the movie that Andrew is working on, which reminds me that I still haven't messaged him. Guess I'm going to have to move that from the “noted for future procrastination agenda” onto the "I'd Rather Not" board. I unlock my phone and click on the article. I read in shock as it details that an outbreak of whooping cough has occurred on the set and all cast and crew have been quarantined and will remain isolated for two weeks.

"Well I'll be..." I mutter. So Andrew really had been the one to give this to me.

"Derek?"

I jump at the sound of Kalen's voice, having been so focused on reading the article. "Yeah?" I say looking up.

"Everything okay?"

"It's Andrew. Apparently there's been a whooping cough outbreak on his set and everyone's been quarantined and they're not permitted to leave for the next 2 weeks."

"Oh."

"Yep." I pop the P for dramatic emphasis.

"Do you want me to leave?" Kalen's voice pulls me back to the present.

I blink confused. "What? Why would I want you to leave?"

He gives a little shrug, not meeting my eyes. "If Andrew's quarantined as well wouldn't you prefer to spend time with him?"

No, no I most definitely do not want that. I would rather swallow nails with my hand in a blender while I walked over hot coals, and I'm not even sure that's hyperbole. "The article says to avoid further contamination and spread all cast and crew are required to stay on the set premises.” At that exact moment my phone rings. “Uhh speaking of that’s Andrew, I have to take this.”

"No worries, I'll just start getting our medication ready and get breakfast going. I saw you have eggs how does a nice scramble with toast sound?"

"Great thank you.” I say already walking away to my room. If I don’t answer on his first attempt this call is going to be ugly before it even begins.

[CW]

“Hey Drew” I say tentatively as I close the door.

"Der bear. Oh my god I'm so glad you picked up, it's miserable..." 

Okay so I'm getting 'needs all the attention, feel sorry for me Andrew'. I can work with this. I let him vent his spleen responding with little uh-huhs and hmms here and there. I know from personal experience if I'm too quiet that will set him off on a tirade about how I never listen and don't pay attention to him or his needs, yadda, yadda, yadda. 

"They've given us antibiotics I don't even get what the big deal is, I should be able to leave. Come get me, let me stay with you." He whines.

"The article I read said that everyone was to stay on the set premises so there's not further spread of infection."

"Pffft, what do those publications know anyway? Besides, I wouldn't be infecting anyone it would just be you. Come on."

 I pause deliberating on how I should respond. 

"Well!" He snaps. 

Ohhh that's not good, we're walking dangerously close to impatient territory which very quickly enters punishing wrathful territory. A make it a point to utilize any and all tactics to avoid that territory as often as possible. 

"Well uhhh actually I was just diagnosed with whooping cough myself. I was in the ER last night and got tested. So I'm also in self-isolation."

"Oh, so you infected me?" Andrew replies his voice dripping in accusation.

Well shit I walked right into that. In my avoidance I've willingly entered the blame game territory. A place where no matter what I do or say I will always be at fault and the reason for why things are going wrong for him. 

"What!? That doesn't even make sense, you haven't been around since I became ill and I got sick after you. " Flibbity flabbity flapjacks! I know better than to respond like that too. Of the possible responses I could have gone with in this scenario that was as equally as bad as going with "Fuck you asshole."

"I'll bet you gave gave it to me before you had symptoms." Right, yeah, I somehow gave him whooping cough during the week prior to when he got sick, when he spent every night at the film set and we didn't see each other. 

"I bet that's why the set got infected, you passed it to me and I passed it to them. I should report you for this. I'm sure this along with the news about your dear old dad would be quite the scandal if it got out. This movie is turning me into more of a household name, people will listen to me and what better way to introduce myself to the public eye than an expose my boyfriend's dirty little secrets. People will believe whatever I tell them. That you were reckless. That you put everyone at risk. Hell, they’ll lap it up, son of convicted embezzler and fraudster Maddox Steele infecting people with a highly contagious illness?"

“What could possibly be my motive for that?" Okay so it’s looking like sick brain has chosen stupidity today when interacting with Andrew.

"Motive? You over-estimate the intelligence of the general public. No one is going to stop and ask what your motive was, they won't care, a villain breeds villains. They'll fill in the blanks with any manner of reason. They'll want to believe whatever gets peddled for the drama, the intrigue, the scandal. And they'll listen to me, they'll hear me. Who do you have Derek, who will take your word over mine?"

"What do you want from me?" I reply flatly, resigned, there's no reasoning with a man like him because there is no reason to be had.

"Oh Der bear, I want what I've always wanted from you, it's not even that much, just your obedience. I could have taken this story to the press when I first found it, I could be rolling in book deals, a podcast, you name it. This could have advanced my career 2 years ago but I didn’t, I graciously decided to give you a chance, an opportunity to protect yourself. My price has always been fair. I've never demanded the equivalent of what I could get for selling out your story, I ask purely for what I need to pursue my acting and look you're directly reaping the benefits. This role is my big break and you'll be famous by association and I am a far cry from the association you have with your father.”

I don’t say anything, the best response right now is to zip that trap shut and disengage.

“You’re still so young, you have so much potential and life ahead of you, it would be a shame to have all that talent wasted." His tone drips with faux sympathy and superciliousness. 

"While I know your lauded for your intelligence and the position you hold at your age, you don't have enough clout to save you, in fact your age will be the very thing that will lend believability to the story and be your undoing. Think about it Derek? The only way you could have risen to your level at your age would be by using the same underhanded tactics that your father. Need I remind you that beyond my own reputation as an up and coming actor I still have connections in the financial industry and know people that will ensure you never set foot in an office building again. Now, I really don't want it to come to that Derek. I really don't. I care about you."

I bite back my scoff at that statement. The only thing Andrew cares about is himself and his own gains. There’s a reason he didn’t release my story immediately and decided to blackmail instead but it sure as hells bells isn’t because he cares about me and my potential. No his reasoning is selfishly centered, and based on his own calculations in which he determined that this option had the highest personal return.

"So you just continue to do what I ask of you, and we'll get through this just fine and I won't have to share that or who dear old dad is to anyone" He finishes.

I'm not sure how long the silence extends after he finishes talking. 

"Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes" I reply not even bothering to hide the defeat in my tone.

"That's my good boy. I'll talk to you later." He says hanging up.

[End CW]

I let the phone fall away from my ear, staring blankly at the wall. The fiery rage and fear simmering to a numb and distant despair, a feeling that has become familiar and mocking ever since my father's arrest and succeeding trial and conviction and amplified in the past two years since Andrew has come into my life. Will I ever stop paying for his sins? He's the shadow over my life that continues to haunt and chase me, no matter how fast or far I run, he's always there, this nebulous dark image attached to me. I'm in a sham of a relationship with a man I despise because he holds the ultimate power to destroy my reputation and black-list me in this industry.

I may sound like I'm being dramatic, but the simple truth is the finance industry is as volatile as it is lucrative. I have seen people's career's ended for far less a sordid history of mine. I could be ruined, my dream job and my future ripped from me in an instant. The fear of it has caused me to remain silent and compliant. Whoever said keep your friends close your enemy’s closer obviously was never in a position where they were blackmailed into dating their enemy because they sure wouldn't be handing out that nugget of advice if they had. I'd be happy if Andrew stayed quarantined far away from me, for life.

The real rub about it is, for everything Andrew is, for all his manipulative lies, the one sliver of truth among them is that I'm in this position at my own doing. I take a steadying breathe preparing myself to re-enter the kitchen but the breathe morphs into another coughing fit.

I’ve been coughing for what feels like hours, my lungs determined to hurl themselves from my body, my diaphragm a malfunctioning torn accordion, the air flowing through the hole, a wheezing broken gasp, each spasm agony on my broken rib. It’s becoming increasingly harder to breathe and I start to feel my stomach rebel against the intensity and force of all the coughing. I rush into the bathroom kneeling by the toilet.

After a few minutes I feel arms wrap around me, holding me steady, a gentle hand running up and down my back. "That's it, you're alright. I'm here." Kalen's deep soothing baritone whispers.

I'm not sure how long it takes for the coughing and dry heaving to finally ease, but when it does I slump into the comforting strength of his embrace.

"Let's get you into bed." he says. I nod, not having the energy to do much else. He helps me off the floor, and supports me as we make our way into the bedroom, he settles me in and makes sure I'm comfortable before going back to the kitchen and bringing me a glass of water, a damp facecloth, medication, and a plate of food.

"Here, take these." he says sitting beside me handing me the pills.

"Thank you." I reply hoarsely.

"Do you think you can eat something?" he asks gesturing to the plate.

"I'll try." I say

"Just take it slow, eat what you can."

I pick at the food for a bit, doing my best to stomach the food, but turns out that when the day starts with a reminder of your poor choices that have lead to blackmail and morale erosion there are only so many bites of scrambled eggs that you can tolerate before they begin to taste of existential dread and it would seem my digestive tract has gone on strike in solidarity.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything else?" Kalen asks, a look of concern etched in his features when he sees me push away the less than half eaten plate of food.

"No, thank you. I think I just need a nap" Or maybe a coma, some good old fashioned prolonged unconsciousness to escape my problems seems a reasonable solution.

Ahh-tSsSSCHU! … Hih-CHIEW! … Hah-kSSSSSHOo!

The sneezes catch me off guard, they're a little harsher than I'm used to, a little more wrenching then the usually light airy releases I’m prone to. The strain and stress launching me into another endless coughing fit.

"I have an idea" Kalen says vacating his spot next to me and only because it's been a harrowing day, will I admit that I emitted an audible noise of protest. I will not however, in any way, admit to the fact that it came as a pathetic, puppy reminiscent, whine.

He walks to my en-suite bathroom and I hear him turn on the water to the shower. "Do I really smell that bad?" I joke.

He peeks his head out of the door and raises his eyebrows. "Hmm, now that you mention it...."

"Hey!" I exclaim and then cough.

He chuckles. "Rest assured your highness your stench is not so offensive as to suggest a shower just yet. I'm doing this to get some flow of steam into the room and help your breathing and hopefully aid in alleviating your coughing."

"Oh, smart."

He exits the bathroom "The only thing is – HhEh - iiiitt's…gg-gggoing t-t-ttt-to mm-mm-AASssSSHHUE!-"

Heh'ISsssSHoo! Hheh’ISSssTchHue! Heh’ISSHTchuu! Hhii-IISSSShuu! Hiih-ISSSShhhUU!! Hi-hh-HHEhh-ISSTCHhu!

"-make me sneeze." He says rubbing his nose. "Oh god, excuse me."

"Bless you. Like I said, we make quite the pair, you're sneezing, I'm coughing we're like the PB&J of the illness world."

He chuckles resuming his spot next to me on the bed.

"Though I really hope that you don't become infected with this as well and turn into a goober peanut butter and jelly jar. While peanut butter and jelly might be a good combo you don't need it as one entity for purchase, they should be kept separate until you want them both together on something even then they should still each come from their own jar so you can proportion each substance how you want."

"So I assume jelly is sneezing in this case. I could see how a glob of jelly could have the consistency of snot. If I'm being given the choice I'll definitely keep my jelly and hold the peanut butter."

"Uhh yeah that analogy ran away with me a bit. The sentiment remains that I really hope you don't get this, I gotta admit it's not a great time." As if to punctuate my point I double over with another coughing fit.

He rubs my back "Yeah I can tell, has your soul left your body yet?"

"I'm fairly certain it's hitching a ride along the River Styx." I rasp in between coughs.

"Oh yeah, how is it?"

"Oh it's a pleasure cruise. Who wouldn't want to vacation here? It's full of all the finest amenities, the scenery is quite lovely and you have plenty of company, Charon is a bit of talker though."

"He's just trying to keep all the souls he's ferrying into the underworld at ease and trying to generate nice distracting conversation, a true Uber driver."

"I'll be sure to tip him generously and leave a 5 star review, so long as he safely returns me to the land of the living." I wheeze.

As the coughing slows I settle back into bed, the combination of the steam and the conversation working its magic as my breathing is a bit easier. "There you go, just relax" Kalen says. Despite knowing that I shouldn't, I curl into his side resting my head against his shoulder. Just for now, I want to pretend that this is my life. That Kalen is the one I'm with, that the nightmare of the past few years didn't happen, that Andrew isn't holding my agency and autonomous freedom hostage, that I can be in a healthy relationship of my own choosing, that my father didn't steal millions of dollars from innocent people and ruin lives in the process, my own included.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" I ask after I’ve sufficiently taken in the moment.

"Of course." He says.

"If you don't want to talk about it I understand, I get that it might be painful, but I'm wondering, because you seem so well adapted, how did you arrive at a place where you're okay with the career you worked for your whole life instantly being over?"

"Ahh I see we're going with the real heavy hitting personal questions."

"I'm sorry, you don't have to share. If it's too painful or-"

"Derek it's alright, I'm not offended, it's a perfectly reasonable question and I've been through enough therapy and personal processing to be able to speak about it now. I mean I better be, for how much therapist gets paid I would hope I'd be in a place where I can talk about it. Truthfully, I'm not sure I have a fully developed answer and maybe that's because I'm still working through it personally. Granted, I'm better than I was when I was first discharged I have more good days than bad ones but I'm not sure if I've quite landed on being fully okay with it. Grief is never linear and that's ultimately what you're asking about. Some days I'm bitter, some days I'm miserable, some days I mourn what I've lost, what I can no longer have, and other days I'm content to be alive and happy to have an opportunity to find a different path forward."

I nod.

"You know there's all this mental philosophy out there about radical acceptance, and viewing things with this nonjudgmental grace and some ideology that advises even being grateful for what happened to you no matter the circumstances. Where is the joy and acceptance in watching your brothers in arms literally die in your arms, how can you be grateful for war, famine, poverty? What is there to feel great about losing a career you've worked for your entire life? But everyone wants to tell you how you should feel about it. Everyone wants to tell you that it’s god’s will or that everything happens for a reason and that if this happened it obviously was meant to happen. I can't tell you the plethora of platitudes I heard along those lines when I was first discharged. And let me tell you they aren't the source of comfort everyone seems to think they are. They're dismissive and invalidating and sometimes condescending and not to mention all that helpful especially in the moment. I remember telling my sister if I heard one variation of triteness I was going to cut off their leg with a buzz saw on the same day they learn they're being let go from their job and then see what they had to say about it."

"Well I have to say, from where I stand, that sounds like a totally fair and reasonable threat. I think I'd be right there with you offering to hold the handle, or maybe pin them down."

He laughs. “I knew I liked you. Anyways the point is I think where I'm at today and how I got to this space is in fact acknowledging that it was shitty, and that it never won't be shitty. I mean, fuck! I lost my job, the only one I've ever had in my adult life. I lost my leg, and I lost a guy that I could have maybe had a future with but I never got to get there because he died out that day in the field, he died in my arms while I was trying to get him and the rest of the team out. I didn't and still don't see a scenario where I can just toss up my hands roll over on my back, expose my belly and say whelp, this was all meant to happen and I'm so glad that it did.” 

His eyes turn glassy as they well with moisture. He blinks rapidly keeping the visceral reaction at bay, a shaky unsteady intake of breathe and thick swallow belies his composure indicating that he's teetering right on the brink, his lashes now glisten with the unfallen tears.

While he doesn't allow the tears to fall he doesn't seem to shy away from the emotion, allowing the feelings and sensations to unabashedly move through him. It's such a beautifully fragile yet exquisitely fierce expression, raw and complex while still holding this composure and strength. The dichotomous simultaneous display of fragility and fortitude is captivating.

Despite my satisfaction in being able to conceal my emotions from people and hide behind a perfected affectatious mask, that I can weild my high octane energetic and hyper-active personality to disguise the pain and unpleasantry of existence, the despondency of my thoughts this approach is not without its detriments.

It keeps a certain disconnection and emotional chasm between myself and the world and while that is precisely the point. I have only seen that vulnerability is dangerous, it can be very lonely, not to mention exhausting. Living like this—constantly curating myself, layering pieces of who I am into something coherent and functional on the outside, managing the gap between who I am in a single moment and who I want to show in that moment can be very isolating. Most days I desire the distance, the control, but some days I feel like I'm suffocating in the persona. 

I almost envy Kalen this ability to feel and express himself with such unapologetic candor. It's as mesmerizing as it is compelling. This moment, with his eyes glazed and wet and haunted feels sacred, a glimpse into the depths of his soul. It feels too profound a moment to mar with heavy handed words. Instead I squeeze his arm in a silent show of comfort and acknowledgment of the magnitude of what he's sharing.

That's when I realize, I'm not sure when exactly, but somehow during the course of the conversation, we've both gone completely horizontal on the bed, Kalen on his back and me tucked into his side, my head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around me, my hand curled around it, my fingers absently tracing patterns into his skin. It feels so inexplicably right and natural.

He takes a final shuddering breath before continuing. 

“Allowing myself to acknowledge the reality of the situation, and the pain associated with it was my first step towards recovery. Once I stopped trying to minimize and deny the experience, only after I stopped pooling all my energy into accepting it as part of this master plan of my history and guilting myself for not feeling grateful about it, was I able to move towards a place where it wasn't destroying my life. When I arrived there, I discovered that while I couldn't control what had happened to me, I could control who I became because of it. You don't stop living after immeasurable loss and tragedy. The world doesn't stop turning, life goes on, and I wasn't going to keep waiting for it to catch up to me, I wasn't going to sit idly by and watch the rest of my life slip away just because what I had originally planned for my life fell through. I wasn't going to allow it to own me and keep me captive. I lost a chapter but that doesn't mean the whole story has to end. While I struggle to see the quote good in what specifically happened, I can be excited for my future. I can embrace a new career, a new dream. I can see the good and be grateful for what has happened to me since. Meeting you for one."

I can't stop the warmth spreading in my chest. "Really?" I ask more than a little astonished.

"Yes, really. You are a genuinely sweet guy Derek and I enjoy spending time with you, you've been the first real connection I've made with someone outside of people I already knew since my discharge."

"I've enjoyed spending time with you too." I say softly, my face flushing slightly at the admission. I remain silent, letting his words sink in. He pulls me out of my own contemplations over what he's shared smoothing his thumb over my lower lip which I realize that I'd been absently chewing. "What is it?" he asks.

"I uhh…well I have a umm, follow-up question but I'm not sure I should ask."

He shifts a little so now we're lying side by side looking at each other. His captivating hazel eyes holding mine. His fingers trail down my arm until they reach my hand where he entwines his fingers between mine and gives a light squeeze. It's too much, it feels like everything I've ever wanted and that I can't have.

If I were inclined to believe such things I would curse fate for introducing this remarkable man and arranging the circumstances so that I cannot pursue him. But I don't believe in such things, or a higher power that maps out humans lives like we're pieces in a chess game. I only have one person to curse for the situation I find myself in, only one person who is the architect behind this design and that person is the one I see whenever I look in a mirror. I don't need a higher power sabotaging my life, I possess a perfectly good ability to make epically poor decisions all on my own. I'm a playable character in this ship of life and everything I do is controlled by me, not some divine script and I’m the only one who has ad-libbed my way into disaster.

"You can ask, if I don't want to answer or can't provide an answer right away I'll tell you, okay?"

"Okay. I guess uh...well hypothetically, I mean, of course it's hypothetical, because I'm asking about the past and since we have yet to discover how to make time travel feasible we can only speak in hypotheticals -" TARDIS Toast my thoughts are meandering. Just get to the point Derek!

"Anywho, ignoring that unnecessary prelude, I'm wondering if you knew before-hand that your career, your life would change on the day of the recon, but you were given a way to ensure it didn't happen, but in doing so it would have personal consequences that limited your personal freedoms and led to a situation in which you were being extorted, would you allow the event to occur as it did or would you accept the blackmail consequences instead?"

"Wow." He says "That is an incredibly loaded and specific hypothetical." His brow is furrowed, his gaze curious and contemplative and it makes me feel squeamish almost like he knows why I'm asking.

"Uh yeah well...it was just something I read recently and you know it just got me thinking if people were in this position how they would handle it." Yep that wasn't an entirely sus way to explain why I'm asking that at all.

"Hypothetically, if I were to take the blackmail and not have the mission occur the way it did, what would be the consequences for me?"

"Umm, well you would have to remain in an uncomfortable and unpleasant situation indefinitely."

"Is it a dangerously unsafe situation or does it pose physical threats or risks to my safety?"

"It's more emotional and mentally threatening than anything but it would mean that you couldn't really pursue the things that you want, you couldn't live as your authentic self, and you would have to stay hidden in a lie that everyone else has to believe, and you would live in a state of perpetual fear that at any moment the terms and conditions could change at the whim of the blackmailer and your life would be ruined anyways -"

Okay, yeah as I'm speaking this out loud and laying it all out there I realize how absurd it is that I'm even asking. I feel like Chris Tucker acting as agent Carter and I should be asking myself right now very slowly with every syllable enunciated in a really loud exaggerated way 'do you understand the words that are coming out of your mouth?'

Yeah, I can't believe this shit either. Real talk, who would choose this over the alternative? Why did capitulating to Andrew and his manipulations feel like the only option I had? Losing my career and having to start over sure feels like a far superior option than losing myself.

"Umm, you know what forget the question, who in their right mind is actually choosing this option." I say trying to backtrack.

He continues to look at me and it's disconcerting how much I feel like an open book with him eyeing me like that, I almost see him putting the pieces together. My heart thunders, why did I have to open my big fat mouth? This wasn't on the menu of things that I was planning to offer up, I went entirely off-script. This is exactly the reason why I don't do improv. I revealed way too much, too much for comfort, more than I ordinarily would. This itchy irritating sensation skitters underneath my skin, like some sort of allergy, I guess in the more common vernacular it's known as anxiety. There's only one way to handle this, there is an update programmed on my OS that will prevent me from these slips and I have been scheduled for an automatic install and we are immediately shutting down.

"So, don't mind me, that was just my getting out my regular dose of crazy for the day, I guess you might as well see it now so you know what you signed up for the next week and half. Saddle up because this is going to be one bumpy ride." I say with a forced laugh.

"Derek-"

"You know what I think it's time for a movie, just a nice classic, I'm sick and need a feel good kind of movie." I saw jumping up from the bed and heading towards the door. Literally fleeing this conversation. It's an exertion level miscalculation on my part though and I'm coughing again.

Kalen is immediately at my side. "Easy sweetie, your ill you have to take things a little slowly." 

"Thanks" I reply weakly after a minute when the coughing has subsided.

He looks at me, the moment still far too heavy and weighted it's pinching at my nerves, constricting my throat, I'm trapped, cornered. I cannot handle this right now. After several agonizing seconds but what feels like hours just when I'm sure I don't want to hear what he’s going to say he replies,

"What movie do you have in mind?"

Instantly I can breathe without the pressing weight on my chest. I lead us into the living room where I select my classic ultimate feel good movie and hit play.

"This is one of my go-to feel good movies as well." Kalen says sitting next to me.

"Right!? So many good one-liners, and how the antagonist gets what's coming to him, epic. Don't mind me while I quote the entire movie." More tension leaves my body as we re-enter safe territory.

I make sure to not just re-place the road blocks but install spike speed bumps and vehicular damaging potholes, and erect an electrical fence around the topic of my questions, and the reason why they were asked to ensure that next time, even in the emotional heat of the moment, there will be no way around them.

"Bet I can quote more than you." He replies and there goes the rest of the tension.

"Oh you are so on!"

Just like that, the we slip back into my carefully moderated, monitored character, no more randomizing, I’m choosing every last element deliberately. 

"Ha! You missed that entire dialogue I take the lead by 10." I say over half-way through the second movie.

"Tthh-tthhaAAA - HeH'ISssSSTChu- - ccaann't cc-ccc-ccount Hhih – count, I - HhIh-Hheh-hh-IsssSShu! Hh-hi-HIIis-‘TtSTCCHhu! ww-would hh-hhaaAaaHSSHHUU!”

He gives up trying to talk around the fit and gives in wholly to the sneezy urge that has taken him. I miss count after 20.

"Oh my god, wow! Excuse me. What I was trying to say is you can't count anything I miss when I'm incapable of quoting. That's hardly fair, do you really want to be the winner on a technicality and not a firm lead?"

"Fine, fine I'll give you this one but don't think you can use your sneezing as an excuse every time. How can I know that you would have quoted the line or not? You could just be saying that and I wouldn't know. You know what in fact, new rule the movie gets paused whenever you’re sneezing, same goes if I'm coughing."

"That seems fair." he rushes to get out his voice tight and strained as he tries to talk over another building sneeze.

HhHHi-ISSSshhhhuu! HhEh-Hhh'IIIsSSSTChuiew! HhiSSSHHhhUE! HhEh-Hhuuhh'IIISsSSSTChu! HIISsSSHHHuUE!! Hii-HEHSST-Chue! Ah-Heh'ISSsSSSHU!

Or you know, several.

"Ohh mmm-mmyy ggg-gg-ggodDD - "

HhUuh'IIIsSSTTTCHU!! Hhh-Heh-HHEssSSHTchue! Hhh-Heh-hh'sSStTCHUie!! Hhh-HHeh-hh-HeeSSSHHhuue!!! Hh-hh-HEHEssssh-ShhhUUuu!! Hhh-Heh-h'sSshhhhhtcccCChhhuue!!

"Pp-pplease eeexxx-CCUUUSSSSHHhu - excuse me." he says rubbing his nose.

"Bless you." I say when I'm reasonably certain he's done.

"Jesus, wow! Thank you." He says rubbing at his watery eyes. He waits several more moments "Okay, I'm good, we're good, I think I'm done. You can resume."

As I'm reaching for the remote his breathe gives a singular hitch.

"Actually, hh-hHHEHoold on-" I turn towards him because I can't not watch how this plays out. He's aggressively pressing his pointer finger underneath his nostrils while pinching one side of his nose with his thumb. His expression suspended in a comical mix of anticipation, concentration, and confusion. After a long pause he releases the grip on his nose.

"Okay, we're definitely good now. You can start."

His nose twitches and his nostril flares giving away the lie.

"Yeah, somehow I don't believe you. Your nose gives you away Pinocchio."

His face is contorting in all manner of ways to prevent the sneeze from escaping. "I don't knnn....know......wwhhat....you're talk...ing about."

He successfully manages to get through the sentence without a hitching breathe but his cadence is broken, having to take extended pauses between and even during words. I have to give him points for effort even though I know this is a battle that will over throw him it's just a matter of time -

HhHuuh'IIIsSSSSHHEEWWUU! Hh'IIIsSSSTCHuuu! Hhehh-Hhuh'Hhh'AaAsSHHHUE! Heh'HEHSST'Choo! Hi'ISSSShhuue! Hih-'HhIISSTtCHU! Heh'ISSSHSHhuue!

"Excuse me" he says a little sheepishly as he pulls away his shirt from his face.

"Bless you." I say sliding over the box of tissues. He gives me a grateful smile extracting several tissues, turning away and blowing his nose.

"Ugh, thank you." he says after a moment.

"So uhhh do you have any more sneezes on deck preparing to launch or...?"

"No, no, we're definitely good now. I think blowing my nose helped."

I start the movie again and our little game resumes. When we break for food a little later my phone pings.

[CW]

Andrew: Since we're both sick with the same thing I got permission for you to come be with me in my trailer for the next two weeks! They're expecting you here and will give you special access by 8PM.

Even through text I don't miss the command in the message. At least we’re communicating via text, I have some processing time to collect my thoughts.

Me: I don’t think that would be wise, my doctor told me that I shouldn't be going anywhere whilst I am still contagious. I'm also having a pretty abnormally severe case for an adult and someone who is vaccinated and she advised that she doesn't want me putting any more stress on my body than is necessary, that would include leaving the comfort of my own home.

Andrew: I see, well if that's bad, you definitely gave it to me. My symptoms were not obvious, I didn't even get that tell-tale cough and I've been feeling 100% the past week. It was really just those few days.

I roll my eyes. Yeah, you zonked out zucchini, that's exactly why you spread it to me and who knows who else, because you were generally asymptomatic and interacted with people while you were contagious! I've been holed up at home since the onset of any sort of illness symptoms. It is far more likely that you were patient zero who were in close contact with all these people. Of course that thought is going to remain just that.

Me: Regardless, provided that my case is so severe ,even though you also have it, being around me could contribute to worsening symptoms for you. I don't want to make you or anyone else sicker or prolong your illness especially if you're feeling completely healthy. I would also hate to set back production. I know how much this roll means to you.

Andrew: If you knew how much this roll really meant to me you'd be here with me.

Shit! I should have seen how he would spin that sentiment, I temporarily forgot one of my critical rules in communicating with Andrew, don't share compassion out loud, his response is to only twist it and turn it back on me. I learned that early on.

Andrew: Derek, did you already forget our conversation earlier? This isn't a negotiation, get yourself here.

[End CW]

My stomach sinks.

"Hey are you alright?" Kalen asks.

"Yeah sorry, just reading a message, everything's fine. Just sorry, I have to deal with this for one moment. I'll be right back." I say retreating to my bedroom.

How am I going to play this? I know there's no version of my lack of compliance that he's going to be okay with, I'll have to deal with that separately, for now my main objective is to just wiggle my way out of this. I'm not going to spend two weeks in his trailer, not with the way I've been feeling, not with how he's been acting, there's no way. Okay, think, think, think Derek, you're going to have to go above Andrew to ensure this doesn't happen. Options. What are my options? I look up the hospital number and dial.

"UCLA Medical Center how can I assist you today?"

"Yes, hello my name is Derek Kaufman I was a patient in the ER last night and was diagnosed with a confirmed case of whooping cough. I was told to self-isolate for 10 days while the antibiotics I was prescribed take effect however my boyfriend who was also diagnosed has requested that I quarantine with him. The thing is he is currently on the set that was also just confirmed to be infected. I fear that isolating with him will only exacerbate his symptoms and anyone else on the set who is currently sick. I thought maybe if someone from the hospital spoke to the director putting an order that no new personnel who was not previously on the set cannot be admitted onto the property and to not let anyone who has a confirmed or suspected case of whooping cough on the premises."

"One moment sir."

I pace the length of the room waiting anxiously.

"Thank you for holding sir, I'm going to patch you through to our administrative director."

"Thank you." I say on an exhale.

I go through the process of detailing the situation with the director, she confirms that I’m correct and should remain in the premises of my home and that she absolutely will take the appropriate measures and have the appropriate communication with all necessary parties to ensure the movie set isn't allowing any of the cast or crew to invite their family to quarantine with them. I hang up relieved. 

I know Andrew is going to be pissed off at me and there will be some fall out for this, but hopefully once the set sees the official order, they will retract their previous granted permission and he won't have a choice. Jumanji you shit stain, game-over. I exit the room returning back to the couch. Kalen looks at me questioningly.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Just something that needed my immediate attention."

Two hours later my phone pings again I expect it to be from Andrew but instead it's a google alert. It's an article with the latest update on the situation on set. I skim the article stopping when I get to this line -

Star Andrew Sinclair reports that he believes he contracted the illness from his boyfriend Derek Kaufman,director of qualitative analysis for Pacific Horizon Capital, the largest institutional investment firm in the greater Los Angeles area. 'I am most aggrieved by his carelessness, I wasn't even aware that he was ill when I chose to spend a couple of days off set with him a week and a half ago.'

My stomach lurches. The rest of the article details his very implausible and inaccurate version of the story but it doesn’t seem to matter. The writer clearly takes his side.

Beyond that, I receive the message that Andrew is telling me loud and clear. I'm playing with the big boys and he will squash me like a bug. My small moment of triumph vanishing into the ether replaced with a sudden sinking feeling. My phone pings again, this time it is Andrew.

Andrew: Your little stunt was clever I'll hand it to you, but as you can see, I have the press in my back pocket. I'm fully prepared release another certain story to the press if you dare defy me again.

Perhaps it's because of the conversation I started earlier with Kalen or my illness and general feeling of exhaustion, maybe it's because I've been pushed as far as I'm willing to be pushed or maybe it's the fact that I'm tired of living a life of constant fear and dread but seeing that snaps something in me. I'm tired of being a pawn in his game. I won't allow him to control me and strip away my life anymore. My career is not the sum of my life. If I lose it, if he ruins me professionally, if he destroys my reputation, it doesn't have to be the end. I can thrive, I can see the good in the aftermath, like Kalen. I type out a single word response and send it.

Me: Understood.

That'll appease him, for now, he'll still think he has me in his clutces, he won't know or even expect that this is but the beginning of our end. I have 9 days to plan, 9 days to prepare and implement before my time expires. I'm going to get out of this and live my life on my own terms and I'm going to start right now. I put my phone down with a resolute finality and reach for Kalen's hand, his eyes find mine, his expression open and questioning. 

"Everything alright?"

I take a calming breathe trying to settle my heartbeat that’s pounding in my ears. "I have something that I'd like to share with you, about me, that leads back to the questions I was asking earlier, and why I asked them."

He turns off the television turning to face me, our knees touching, his gaze holding mine telling me that I've got his attention, that he's listening, and he's prepared to be open to whatever I share. It's a simple gesture, but it makes me feel stronger and braver than I actually am.

"Are you familiar with the name Maddox Steele?"

"The financial criminal?"

I nod.

"Yeah, I'm familiar with his name and his case, his investment fraud swindled a few families of military veterans that I know."

Oh well isn't that fantastic, that's going to make my admission infinitely harder.

"Right, well umm…you see he was, well I suppose technically still is, though he lost the title the day his schemes came to light, my father." Ordinarily I might insert some sort of Darth Vadar I am your father joke here to lighten the tension within me upon sharing this but I don't have the energy for that right now.

His eyebrows rise in surprise. "Oh wow!" He exclaims clearly not quite sure of what else he should say. I can’t say I blame him, I still don’t know how to react to that fact and I live it on a daily basis but then in true heroic fashion he saves me from my own absence of a joke. "I suppose there are worse people to learn that they are your father. Darth Vadar for instance, you come out of the lightsaber duel down a limb with some questionable life advice. Speaking from personal experience, can't say that I would favor family altercations that result in losing an appendage.

That pulls a startled laugh from me. I never thought I'd see the day where I could speak about my father and laugh about it. "Well your only 50% right I did receive the questionable life advice, and while I am thankful to have all appendages and limbs in tact, I'll admit to feeling a little cheated out of the a lightsaber duel." 

Kalen's chuckle joins mine, as it dies he stays silent giving me the space to continue.

"His arrest put me in a rather compromising and difficult position provided my own career path, but because I was still a minor when the news broke I was protected from the press. The height of his trial was while I was still attending university and couldn't afford to have the news get out of my association so I assumed my mother's maiden name, remained out of the public view, and kept my identity as his biological son secret."

"Understandable" he says nodding.

I tell him the rest of the story, about meeting Andrew, about how he learned my real identity, and how he threatened to destroy my career once he found out unless and that as part of the conditions of his extortion I've been playing the dutiful role of being his boyfriend so I can be at his beck and call.

"Which brings us to today, he wanted me to quarantine with him on set I took measures to ensure I wouldn't have to but he retaliated with a thinly veiled threat and I'm just at my wit’s end I don't want to live like this anymore. I love my job, I've worked incredibly hard to be where I'm at, and the thought of losing it is dreadful, but in meeting you, I'm seeing that the entirety of my life isn't my job. If I get blacklisted from the industry while it would be a terrible loss, it doesn't mean that I don't have options. I don't want to be subjected to his manipulations anymore. I don't want to live in fear that at any moment everything I've worked for could crumble before my eyes and at the hands of someone else. If this comes out, I want it to be on my own terms I want to control the narrative. I’m so tired of feeling trapped. He came into my life during a period where I was heart-broken and frankly a hot mess. I didn't feel like I was worthy of anything more the only thing in my life worthwhile was my job and I didn't want to lose that too. I don't think that's the case anymore and I'm giving up so much more by continuing to live this way.”

He squeezes my hand. "I'm so sorry that you've been carrying this burden and dealing with this. You don't have to live like that. We'll find a way to help you get out of this. He can't touch you for the next 2 weeks while he is also in quarantine right? So we have two weeks to figure out a game plan. What do you want or need from me?"

"Umm, well, for starters I think I could really use a hug. I've never told anyone about Andrew, obviously. I've spent the last few years feeling so ashamed that I so carelessly walked into this situation but also I've kept the identity of my father secret for the past 8 years and there's a lot of deep rooted shame associated with that as well. I am good at what I do, and I operate with the highest level of integrity and I don't want people to look at me and only see my father's actions. I don’t want inherit people’s doubts about my trustworthiness on the basis that I’m related to my father. This is, it’s a lot to share and it's just a lot in general and yeah I could really....I just need a hug."

"Come here." he says opening his arms and pulling me into an embrace.

As soon as his arms engulf me whatever remaining thread of control I have over myself unravels. It begins with a sharp watery hiccupping sob. The sound echoes in the quiet of the room behind it comes the heavy rain spilling out of my eyes, a hurricane of years of emotional repression and turmoil, flooding my face. It's the kind of weeping that’s deep, primal, chest heaving, so heavy it almost makes you dizzy. My tears fall unchecked, hot against Kalen’s shirt, soaking through the fabric, every drop a release of a memory, a burden, and a secret. With every violent gasping breathe a shackle breaks.

I press my face deep into him, clutch at his shirt, my fingers curling into fists gripping him to keep me from being lost to this tidal wave of emotion. Kalen’s hold tightens, steady. His body my anchor, his presence the lighthouse beam bringing me safely to shore from the thrashing tumultuous sea. He strokes my hair, whispering quiet reassurances, though I’m too lost in the storm to comprehend their meaning.

Everything - the guilt, the shame that clings to me like a second skin, the blame, the regret, the heartache – it all pours out of me. In Kalen's arms, I finally allow myself to feel it all, every buried hurt, every scar I never treated, every wound I ignored and never allowed to properly heal. For the first time in years, I strip back the layers, the pretense I so proudly adorn. I let the control fall away and just let myself be unrestrictedly me. 

Kalen stiffens against me immediately succeeded by a hitching inhale. I ever so slightly tigthen my grip knowing what's coming not wanting him to pull away from me but he makes no effort to pull away.

HhHH'IIIsSSshuu!

He catches his breath for half a second before unleashing the full force of the rest.

Hh-HHEHhh-ISSSHHHuU! Hh-HHeh-hh'AaAsSHHHhhuueee!! Hi'ISSSTChuue!! Hih-HHEHSstChhuuuee!!! Hh-Hheh-HHIissSCHhhuu!! Hhh-HiSSshuE!!! Hh-HiH'sHHSh'iiIsSShiU!! Hhh'IIIsstTCCCCHhuu! Hh'HiSSsShh!! Huhh'IIIisstTCHuuie!! Hh-HH'ISSsSSShhhhiuu!!! HEh-HHH'SHHHhiU!!!

"Bless you" I murmur. 

My sobs are quieter now, the violence of the storm dissipating, rounding out to a gently fortifying rain, the tears still flowing but not quite as intense, my breath evening out. I release the tight grip on Kalen’s shirt, flattening my palms over his chest. My head falls back against his shoulder, he shifts just enough to give me space to meet his gaze. His fingers caress over my cheek wiping away the tear stains. He cups my cheek in his palm, his eyes are gentle and soft as he speaks.

"You are not your father's mistakes, you are ssoo-sssso-oh damn hh-hold on ssorry hh-hhh-have to snneeEEze again-"

Hh'HH'IIissssshhuEee!! Huh-Hh'IISShhhhiu!! Hh'HHEsShhuue!! Hh-HHEhsstT'ChUu! Hhuh-hhhih-Hh'SSSTCHuuE!! HH'ISSSsTtIshhU! Hh'Heeh'ISSSShHiUUue!

"Sorry, excuse me, let me see if I can get this out now. You are so much more than the legacy of another's criminal choices. You share DNA that doesn't mean that you share his sins. Anyone who judges you based on your father's crimes is ignorant and unworthy of you. You don't have to live chained to his convictions. I'm so sorry you ever felt like you had to. I'm so sorry that someone saw you during a period of emotionally vulnerability and exploited it for their own personal gain. I'm so sorry you've been alone with this oppressive weight on your shoulders and you've been living under threats and manipulation for so long. Thank you for trusting me enough to share your truth. I am so incredibly honored and grateful that you shared this with me. I promise you, you aren't alone anymore."

He kisses my forehead then. The gesture is so tender, the way he's touching me and looking at me is so soft and affectionate, it fills the empty spaces of my heart that have been vacant, barren and parched for so long. I feel so incredibly seen, so completely safe, and so profoundly cared for in a way that I never have. I press a kiss to the scar on his cheek.

"Thank you." I whisper.

"Always." he replies. 

We spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. He helps me compile all the evidence of Andrew's extortion should I decide to pursue legal action against him also discussing the pros and cons of the various different approaches and how I could allow this to play out. He listens and gives his honest opinions. Together we strategize and discuss a potential timeline for coming out. It's a bit condensed provided that we're working against Andrew's 2 week quarantine but it should still be manageable and if all goes according to plan by the end Andrew will no longer hold any leverage over me, his power over me will be no more. For the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful about my future. 

~TBC~

Edited 6 hours ago by Not Telling
Grammatical error

[dwaekki]

Oh it's all going down now, I'm hopeful that it will turn out in Derek's favour, and I'm glad that he has Kalen to hold him steady and be a supportive pillar for him through this hardship. 

As I was reading I couldn't help wonder if Kalen's fits could be stopped if he stifled near the end of them? Maybe that's just me being greedy for more stifles but I've heard some people say that if they've having a long, drawn out fit that stifling a sneeze can help put a stop to it. Obviously we've seen and can tell that stifling the entire fit has no benefit whatsoever for Kalen, however i do love his stifles and wonder if he's ever tries using them as a more forceful end to his ongoing fits?

Anyway, I really do hope that Derek can make it out of this unscathed, he truly deserves everything for putting up with such a monster of a boyfriend and being such a lovely person in general. I truly loved seeing both Kalen and Derek get more emotionally open this chapter, especially nearing the end where Kalen just held Derek as he broke in his arms, there was something so special about that connection and I think Derek really needed to get that off of his chest. I'm happy that he doesn't have to suffer in silence anymore and has someone that he can open up to whenever he needs. 

I can't wait to see how this all unravels, I hope that soon Kalen and Derek can live in peace in an incredible relationship without Andrew ever being able to interfere.

Thank you for this, I hope to find out what happens very soon 💕

[AntheaHolmes]

Oh my god! This chapter is everything!!! It's giving me every emotion. Hope, laughter, hate for Andrew obviously but also it's so well written. I can't believe how caring are Derek and Kalen to eachother. They are so cute and adorable!!! Oh goodness. Karen's sneezes are amazing! The angst Derek feels because of Andrew, I cannot!!! He should leave them the f... alone!!! They deserve better! They deserve nothing but love and support!!! 

Thanks again for another wonderful chapter!