Finding Eden(5)

He held it out after a few puffs, but Danny shook his head. “Go ahead and keep it.” He lit his own cigarette, tilting his head back to blow the smoke toward the ceiling. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Paul said numbly, still smoking, an indulgence for him. He gave them up when football started to be more than a passing phase. Danny hadn’t seen him take more than a few puffs since sophomore year. Paul slid down, sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. “I feel like I’ve lost my heart, that it can’t even beat anymore. I dunno how I’m gonna survive without her.”

Paul was rarely prone to dramatics. Seeing him so emotionally raw left Danny floundering. He picked up his ashtray off the nightstand and then crawled out of bed. Setting the ashtray between them, he sat shoulder to shoulder with Paul, not really knowing how to make him feel better.

“I pulled some bass out of the pond in the back,” he finally said.

“Yeah?” Paul asked, his voice heavy and flat, but he turned to look at Danny curiously. “We haven’t caught anything from your pond in years.”

“I know.” Danny rubbed his eyes once more, attempting to wake up more fully. He was sitting there in his underwear, never a great plan with Paul around, and was still half hard, but he was a little too tired to give a fuck. “We could try it out later if you want. Bought some bait yesterday.”

“Okay,” Paul agreed, tapping his cigarette against the palm of his hand, the embers glowing against his calloused skin.

Danny stared at his palm, smelled the first hint of burning flesh and pulled a face. That was a trick Paul used to do in middle school and it was still equal parts disturbing and impressive.

“I have an ashtray.” Danny pointed to it on the floor. “That sorta freaks me out, Paul Guy.”

“Pussy,” Paul snorted, the echo of his father sounding in his voice, as if he didn’t have any other way to function.

He was falling back on programming instead of the compassionate personality that made him an oddity in his family. Danny recognized the survival mechanism for what it was, and decided a little burnt flesh was the least of Paul’s problems.

He just smoked with him in silence, smelling the decadent tang of sex and sweat on Paul, knowing he probably fucked Eve all night. It was a strange moment for Danny, his heart being broken over Eve leaving, while soaring over the knowledge he had Paul to himself now. Not that it made tons of difference. He would never get what he really wanted from him.

Paul was his dirty secret, his clandestine indulgence.

Danny was so in love with him, he willingly let Paul date Eve rather than hurt him. He understood Paul’s position more than he realized. He practically wrote the book on loving enough to let go. At least he knew Eve liked cock. Paul had absolutely no interest. Choosing to cater to Paul had left Danny in the miserable position of loving two people more than air and having neither.

Oftentimes Danny wondered if he liked men because of Paul. If his secret indulgence in cock was a pathetic attempt at a replacement. The same could be said for Eve and his tendency to go from one shallow cheerleader to the next. Danny’s reality was one meaningless sexual encounter after another with admirers who would never be able to give him what he really craved.

Still half asleep, with the scent of sex literally bleeding off Paul, Danny was actually dizzy with the wave of adrenaline-induced desire that washed over him. It took huge amounts of willpower not to turn to Paul and comfort him the only way he knew how.

“You probably need some sleep,” Danny finally said as he reached over and put out his cigarette. “Come lie down with me for a little bit.”

“I’ll just sleep on the floor,” Paul said, stubbing out the cigarette in his palm, not even flinching at the burn. “Your father really will think we’re boyfriends.”

Danny couldn’t help the way his shoulders stiffened in defensiveness impossible to hide this early in the morning. “Ask me if I give a shit what he thinks.”

Paul dusted his hand, doing it carefully over the ashtray, being vigilant not to get any ashes on the ground despite the fact Danny’s room was less than clean. “Whatever,” he finally sighed.

Danny crawled back into bed and tried not to stare at Paul’s broad chest and the lines of hard stomach muscles when he tugged his shirt over his head and then kicked off his shoes. Wearing only jeans, he got into bed. It had to be the exhaustion that had Danny letting down his guard to the point that he rolled closer, draping an arm around Paul, hugging him from behind.

“What—” Paul started, his body stiffening in Danny’s arms.