Paul awoke, confused for a brief moment. This wasn’t his apartment. He looked around at the small, cluttered bedroom, and tried to remember where he was. Then he felt the warmth of the person lying next to him.
Roy was still asleep. He was turned on his side, his head nestled in the crook of his elbow. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Paul could see the fuzzy hair the speckled Roy’s chest.
He wanted to reach out, to let his fingers touch it, to gently tickle Roy’s chest, and wake his bed mate up.
He didn’t.
Instead he turned, let his feet hit the cold hard wood floor, and quietly began to search for his clothes.
How many times had he woken up in this situation? How many times had he said it would never happen again? He had lost count a long time ago.
He knew how Roy felt about him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to admit that he felt the same. He might very well be able to love Roy, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t give up everything he had worked so hard for just to be with someone he wasn’t sure he even loved.
Paul’s toe connected with the leg of the bed. Pain shot up his leg. He bit his lip, trying to muffle a scream.
"You okay?" Roy sat up, his eyes still half closed with sleep.
"Fine." He spoke through gritted teeth. The pain was still strong. He prayed it wasn’t broken.
"Sit down. Let me look at it." Roy got out of bed, grabbing his big, white cotton robe off of the ground, and throwing it on.
For a brief second Paul was able to see what he was to drunk to remember from last night. Roy’s body was so thin, almost frail looking, and covered in a light layer of black, curly hair. Paul leaned forward.
"You don’t have to. It feels better already." Paul was lying.
Roy just looked at him. His face was blank. Paul knew that Roy wasn’t buying it. He knew how badly Paul wanted to get out of there. Still, Roy pulled open the drapes, flooding the room with the early morning sunlight.
He walked over, squatted down, and lifted Paul’s foot.
The toe was already turning black and blue.
Without making a sound Roy walked into the bathroom, and a few moments later he returned with some gauze and tape. He returned to his earlier position, and began to bandage Paul’s toe.
"You don’t have to do this." Paul felt almost ashamed for trying to leave so quickly.
"It’s broken. Just take it easy for the next couple of days." Roy didn’t look up at him. "I don’t care that you want to leave. Just don’t nearly kill yourself next time, okay?"
"It’s a broken toe, not a broken neck."
"Well, who knows. You go stumbling around in the dark, and next time you might break your neck. I don’t think a little wrap is going to fix that one." Roy finished working and stood up, walking into the bathroom.
Paul could hear the water turn on.
He knew that was his que to leave, but suddenly he didn’t want to. Yeah, he didn’t want a relationship with Roy, but he didn’t want to leave him pissed off.
Carefully Paul made his way into the bathroom, stripped out of whatever clothes he had managed to find, and slipped into the shower.
Roy didn’t acknowledge his presence. Gently Paul placed his hands on Roy’s shoulders, and felt the muscles first tense, then relax.
"You don’t have to take care of me. It’s not your problem." Paul spoken softly, his thumbs working small circles on Roy’s shoulder blades.
"It’s not a problem." Roy just leaned back, pressing his back against Paul’s smooth chest.
They didn’t talk, but just stayed there, under the warm water. Paul leaned down and kissed Roy’s neck. He didn’t know why he was being so affectionate. He knew this was going to send all the wrong signals, but he also hated seeing his friend angry at him. So he let his arms wrap around Roy, and just held him.
"Thank you." Paul let his chin rest on Roy’s shoulder.
Roy didn’t answer. He reached up, letting his hands wrap around Paul’s.
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