In Between Days: Raising Jordan (boyxman)✅

Nothing But Flowers

"I don't think you're fucked up," he said. My hands slid down his back as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"And to think, not too long ago you couldn't stand to be touched," I said. "Now you can't get enough of it." He kissed my forehead with a smile on his lips. Down below, the front door opened and closed. Jordan immediately pulled away from me and jumped off the bed.

"Tim's home," he said. Without looking back, he ran out of the room. Tim really needed to get a life because to me it was a little too early to call it a night. I heard Jordan scamper down the hall, eventually closing his bedroom door. Although tempted to find out how Tim's night went, I decided to stay in my room and draw for awhile. The only vision in my head was Jordan and his dark chocolate eyes. As I put my pencil to paper, there was a knock on my door. Did Jordan come back already? Just in case it wasn't Jordan, I threw the sheets over me, covering my naked body.

"Come in," I said. It wasn't Jordan, but Tim.

"Hey," Tim said.

"Hey," I said. "How was your date?"

"Alright," he said, clearly not willing to further discuss it. "How was Jordan?" As my cheeks burned, I really hoped he didn't notice me blush. Fortunately Tim didn't notice such things.

"Good," I said. "We just hung out and listened to music."

"Him and his music," he said. "I'm glad he wasn't any trouble. Well, I'm going to bed. Good-night."

"Good-night," I said, overcome with guilt as Tim closed my door. I knew he was going to kill me, or worse, possibly end our friendship if or when he found out about us. Like Jordan said, Tim still thought of him as a ten year old kid. He needed him to stay young and dependent on him. He didn't know anything else.

***

As I slept on my stomach, I hugged the pillows to me, only awakening to a voice in my room, a very familiar voice I looked forward to hearing everyday, just not at seven in the morning. Those first few days of my stay he hid upstairs in his room or outside, venturing out intermittently, never at seven in the morning like now. During the school year, I had to get up by six to make it to work by seven. It was summer vacation, though; I didn't have to get up if I didn't want to.

"Do you like the Talking Heads?" That familiar voice I loved so much said. I would have laughed if it wasn't so early and if I hadn't been asleep.

"Huh?" I yawned.

"Talking Heads. My mom loves them. I don't know. I think David Byrne is overrated. I like Psycho Killer and Once in a Lifetime, but I can't stand Burning Down the House. What do you think?"

"I think you talk too much," I said, throwing a pillow at him. "What happened to you, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"You barely talked when we first met. You hate talking. Isn't it supposed to be really hard for you? Now you don't shut up and talk when I want to sleep." Opening my eyes fully, I smiled, seeing Jordan standing by my bed, wearing a Red Sox t-shirt. I didn't know he was into baseball or any sports for that matter. Here it was, July, and we hadn't watched one baseball game. Frowning, he folded his arms across his chest as if he were annoyed with something I said. "I'm sorry," I said, crawling to him. "I know you don't like to be teased, but sometimes it's fun." The shirt was too big for him, hanging down to his thighs. I wondered if it was his dad's; it was too big for Tim. Looking down his body, I realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath. "Where's the rest of your clothes?" I asked. He just shrugged. "You went downstairs like that?"