FicWad

Chapter 1
I sat on a park bench in a pair of shorts and a gray wife beater. It was unseasonably warm for the middle of March, and around me little kids ran around, screaming nonsense and putting a smile on my face. It was the kind of day that made you want to do nothing and see everything.
In my hands was a bouquet. It wasn't much; it wasn't even of flowers. It looked like wax roses from afar, but really it was candy-coated chocolate. Chemicals and artificial sugar. My mouth was watering just thinking about it. However, these weren't for me. They were for Jay. I wanted to get flowers, big, beautiful blooms, but then I remembered the only way Jay would let flowers in the house was if it was for his funeral. This was better, much better, and we could even share them. In my mind, I drew up a scene with us on the sofa, sharing a cocoa petal between our teeth and tongues. It would be a cute anniversary gift.
I stood up and started to walk the path that led onto the street, which sported at its leftmost corner a small Colonial with pale green shutters. And then I stopped. I checked my phone. It was four thirty; he'd almost have reached the bus stop soon. I should go home, put the flowers in the fridge, shower, change, and go pick him up. He must be tired from the trip. He'd be happy to see me.
I was at the front door before I had realized I had started walking. I didn't have the key with me, but Jay always remembered to keep one under the mat. Inside, I was suddenly, spastically aware that everything was in a state of disarray. There was a small hill of dishes in the sink, papers all over the wood floor, clothes draped over everything and ants. Ants were king and I was the anarchist; try as I might, my poisonous protests failed to topple anything besides a few plates. It reflected my inner chaos well. I tried to move things, maybe even attempt to actually clean, but I could tell it would be futile. Instead I spent the time cleaning myself up. I scrubbed, rinsed, dried. I put product in my hair, and cologne on the polo and jeans I decided to wear. They were a little wrinkled, but I didn't want to try ironing them. That never went well.
The phone rang; it was Jay.
"I'm back."
"I'm coming."

The bus station is about twenty minutes away from our house. The road to it is winding, leading my little grey Honda past department stores and towering trees with budding flowers. Spring was really breathing life into everything. The fields of grass that were quiet when covered with snow were now bursting with animal chatter; even the streets themselves seemed somehow brighter, livelier. As I got close to the station, I saw a couple holding hands and kissing lightly as it started to sprinkle. The girl started laughing, pulling her man closer as the water crept onto their scalps and made the hem of their shirts damp. Their hair was draped over their faces as they leaned close, not touching but sharing heat and oxygen like twins in the womb. They were close, they were in love; I wondered if he had ever hurt her. I wonder if she still would love him, anyway.
Jay was sitting on a boulder outside the station. He was wearing a black shirt and sweatpants; his hair clung to his head in wet clumps. The skin under his eyes was gray. I smiled; his sister must have been working him to the bone. He looked like he just woke up after the only sleep he's had all week. He was so disoriented, he didn't notice my car, and he didn't notice me walking up to him.
"Jay!"
He looked up, and a grin spread on his lips. "Hey." His eyes took in my face, my clothes, my shoes. The pupils refocused, and he saw the flowers. "Are those for me?"
"Of course." I held them near his nostrils, letting the smell of cocoa waft towards him. He grinned.
"Chocolate? God, you know me too well."
I laughed, and took him in my arms. It felt unreal to have his body against mine, his breath ghosting over my neck. "Fuck, I've missed you."
My hands cruised his curves, his crevices of skin. I let my hands slide down his back, and though he tried to still it, I felt him tense up. A small sigh of protest escaped his lips.
He rubbed his forehead against mine, trying to stop the floodgates from bursting. My eyes were quivering in their sockets; I could hardly stand to look at him, or anything else.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Jay..."
"It's okay," He whispered into the pores of my cheeks, his lips massaging my muscles.
"No, no it's not. Didn't...didn't it hurt?"
"Just forget it," He snapped. "It's over. You made a mistake, and it's over. It‘s all okay now."

I grabbed his bags and threw them somewhat carelessly into the back of the car. Jay curled up in the passenger seat and fell asleep immediately. He leaned against the cool pane of the window instead of leaning on my shoulder. There could be a lot of reasons for that. I could think of only one.
The melting, sticky chocolate lay on his lap, wrapped up in that shiny gift wrapping paper that reflected the blueness of the sky outside. He hadn't bothered taking off the plastic yet. I wouldn't have, either. It was a stupid gift. I don't know what I was thinking. What was he, five? Adults can't be bought over with candy. I wasn't really trying to pay off my guilt, but in the back of my mind, I knew I was.

We got home, and I woke Jay up. He yawned, stretched, and sleepwalked his way into the house. He collapsed on the living room sofa, on top of shirts and socks. I sidestepped the plates and bugs to sit beside him, my hand resting on his hair. His chest slowly rose and fall, rose and fall; I wanted to write a poem about it. "You're gorgeous," I said out loud. I don't know if he heard me, but I the midst of his sleep, he smiled.
I broke off a piece of chocolate and held it in my closed palm. It was gooey and warm. Was this what love felt like? I slurped a little into my mouth. Was this what loved tasted like? I positioned a small crystal of it near Jay's lips; obediently, he opened his mouth, and I gently let it float inside, onto his tongue. I couldn't see it flow down his throat, into his bloodstream and filling the valves of his heart, but Jay was smiling, reminding me of cherubs and weddings.