Not The Sun - 7. Chapter Seven: Mirage

07 ~Mirage~

Brandon didn't want to go to school the next day. He was still embarrassed and a little bit hurt. He would have felt better if Jordan had just straight out rejected him, even cruelly, but the frightened tone of voice that he had heard after making his confession bothered him a lot and made him feel bad. Did Jordan think that he would hurt him, that he would try to force him into something he didn't want... like Keith had done with him? Never. He felt like Jordan didn't trust him, and after all the time they had spent together during the weekend, that hurt a lot.

He didn't skip school; it was a cowardly and immature thing to do. He had endured school when he had been facing worse problems than this, and he would now. He didn't want to, but he would. If he did miss school, Jordan would be worried or think he was being weird, and Brandon didn't want to further complicate an already uncomfortable situation. Besides, deep down, he wanted to see Jordan, even a little, even if Jordan didn't want to see him. He was deeply thankful that all he had alluded to that day was sex and not love. If he had said the L word and had gotten that reaction... God, he didn't know what he might have done.

He made sure to be up and out the door in time to catch the bus. He didn't want a long, uncomfortable ride to school in Jordan's car, and he didn't even know if Jordan would still be willing to pick him up.

Jordan settled that concern shortly after Brandon had arrived at school, approaching him at his locker, grabbing him and spinning him around to face him with an aggressiveness that surprised Brandon. Jordan looked angry as hell.

"Listen to me," Jordan said, his voice low and tight. "I know you are bothered by what happened yesterday and I'm sorry if I can't reciprocate your feelings right now. But that can't get in the way of our partnership. I was hoping it wouldn't get in the way of our friendship, but maybe that can't be helped. You need to get your damn feelings under control and not let them affect what's going on right now." Jordan's voice dropped. "Do you hate me now or something?"

"No," Brandon said, surprised. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset. I was---I was worried about making you uncomfortable."

"You don't make me uncomfortable," Jordan said, his expression relaxing slightly.

"Not even yesterday?"

"Not even then."

"Damn, well maybe I should try harder," Brandon said, teasing and testing him at the same time. Jordan smiled and Brandon instantly relaxed.

"Listen, do you want to get together today and talk about Leia?" Jordan asked. "We kind of took the weekend off, but we need to do something."

"That's fine."

"You want to head over to my place after school today? Would that be all right or do you need to watch your sister?"

"She can take care of herself as long as I give her a call to let her know why I'm not home," Brandon said. "She's really old enough to stay by herself now."

"Okay. See you."

"See ya."

They parted ways to go to their respective classes and Brandon wondered why he hadn't seen Andrew or Alexis waiting near his locker like usual. He went into his English classroom where he saw Alexis sitting at her desk, in tears, surrounded by several sympathetic looking classmates. Brandon, instantly concerned, started towards her when a hand landed on his shoulder. He turned and saw Christine, a girl he never really knew that well, with tears running down her face. "Oh Brandon, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry about what?" Brandon asked, looking around. Everyone in the classroom was standing up, conversation buzzed, and the teacher wasn't present even though the bell had rung several minutes ago.

"What, you haven't heard?" Christine asked, drawing his attention back to her. "Leia died over the weekend."

~~~~

Brandon wasn’t sure where he was or how he got there. He knew he was in a familiar area, but he couldn’t place the street name, where he was in relation to his home or school, even though he was sure he would have no trouble on a normal day. His head was empty, not able to hold on to anything. Even the simplest of thoughts slid from his grasp, like smoke through his fingers.

He wasn’t aware that he had made it to the park until he was sitting on a swing, watching the patterns his boots made in the sand as he sat on the small rubber seat, twisting back and forth aimlessly. He didn’t even think of how strange he must look, a Goth teenager in a park in the middle of a school day, young children running around him while their mothers chatted on the nearby benches.

Her name -Leia Leia Leia- ran through his head and that was it. Nothing else existed, nothing else was allowed. Just his feet in the dirt and her name in his head. Anything else and his mind, which felt both fragile and overwhelmed, would break like glass and he would be lost.

“Brandon?”

He lifted his eyes up from his feet and saw Jordan standing there. He looked worried and Brandon didn’t know why. “Jordan?”

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“Leia.”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry man. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Your place, okay? You don’t need to be wandering around like this.” Jordan grabbed Brandon's hands, pulled him up off the swing and led him to the street where his car was parked. Brandon got in, leaned his head against the window, squinting as fierce sunlight streamed in through the window and windshield to heat his face. He closed his eyes, the sun burning through his eyelids and coloring his darkness red.

Jordan walked around to the other side of the car, biting his lip. Shit, what was he supposed to do? Take care of Brandon first, he guessed. He opened the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “Brandon?” he said again, softly. Brandon opened his eyes and glanced at him, then stared straight ahead. Jordan resisted a shiver. Those eyes were blank, empty. “I’m taking you home, okay?”

Brandon didn’t answer. Jordan started up the car and drove back to Brandon’s house, which had been one of the first places he had checked. A couple of times he glanced over at Brandon, who had his eyes shut again.

He pulled up next to Brandon’s house and parked, then walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door. “C’mon, let’s go inside.” Brandon didn’t move, so Jordan took his hands, pulling at him until he got up out of the car and allowed Jordan to lead him up the driveway to the front door.

“I need your keys,” Jordan told Brandon. Brandon stared at him for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, staring at them blankly in the palm of his hand. Jordan took them and unlocked the door.

Brandon didn’t move, so Jordan put an arm around his waist, led him upstairs and to his bedroom. Brandon sat down on the bed and Jordan knelt down in front of him. “Are you okay?” he asked, softly. Brandon didn’t answer, his eyes seeming to look right through him. He had brown eyes... Jordan had never noticed before. Jordan lifted his hand, touched Brandon’s face. "Say something."

“Leia, she's dead,” Brandon said. Jordan sighed.

“Yeah, I know. Listen, Brandon, I’m going to make a phone call. Just... stay here, okay?”

Brandon didn’t answer and Jordan figured that was the best he was going to get. “All right,” Jordan muttered under his breath. He walked out into the hallway where he could still see Brandon. He pulled out his cell phone and called his brother.

“Dylan,” his brother answered.

Jordan had to grin. “What happened to all the Mr. Dyson crap I used to get when I called you at the office?”

“Caller ID. I knew it was you, bro. What’s up? It better be important for you to be calling during business hours. And why aren’t you in school?”

“I need the phone number of Dr. Parachini.”

There was a long pause. “Why? What is going on?”

“A close friend of mine has just had a really, really important person in his life pass away. He left school and I went after him. I found him, but I’m worried. He's really freaked... I think he’s in shock or something. I’m not sure what to do-should I take him to the hospital or what?”

“I don’t know. I think he’ll be okay if you just take him home, but ask Parachini. Let me get her number... are you ready?”

Jordan pulled a Sharpie out of his pocket and wrote the number down on his hand as Dylan read it off. “Okay, thanks.”

“Jordan-“

”What?”

“Nothing. Just-never mind. I’ll see you tonight, I guess?”

“Sure. If I can’t make it home, I’ll call you.”

He disconnected the call and stared at his phone for a minute, then dialed the number Dylan gave him.

“Deborah Parachini, how may I help you?”

“Hey, Deb. It’s Jordan.”

“Jordan! Sweetie, how are you?”

“Good, good.”

“I’m so glad to hear from you. Do you need to set up an appointment?”

“Not right now. I actually need some help.”

“What is it?”

“Um... I just picked up a friend of mine. He just found out that someone he was really close to has passed away, and I found him at a park pretty far from his house and the school. I think he might be in shock. I’m not sure what to do," Jordan said, glancing at Brandon, who still hadn't moved from where Jordan had left him.

“Where are you now?”

“At his house. It’s on Amber Drive.”

“Okay. Listen, I just got off shift, so give me a few minutes and I’ll swing by and take a look at him. If it’s a mild case of shock, he should be okay in his home, but I would feel better if I could take a look at him. What’s the street address?”

“Fourteen twenty-five.”

“Fourteen twenty-five Amber Drive?”

“Yes.”

There was another long pause. “Is that the William's house?” Dr. Parachini asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh dear. Is it their son? Brandon?”

“You know him?”

“Yes, I do, a little. I’ll be right over.”

“Okay. Thanks, Deb.”

“No problem.”

Jordan flipped his phone back shut and shoved it into his pocket. He looked in the bedroom as Brandon slumped over onto his side. He went back inside. “Brandon. Come on.” He lifted Brandon’s legs up on the bed. Brandon closed his eyes and Jordan rolled his. Tending to other people wasn’t his strong point. He felt lost, had absolutely no idea what to do. Why hadn’t one of his so called friends gone after him?

“Brandon? I’m going to get you undressed a little so you’ll be more comfortable,” Jordan said, unbuckling Brandon’s heavy boots and pulling them off. He moved up next to Brandon on the bed and removed his coat and tie. Brandon curled up into a ball, shivering. Jordan pulled the blankets up over him and went back downstairs to wait for Dr. Parachini. Jordan knew her to be a friend of Dylan’s, and she had been to the house several times for dinner when they first moved in. Jordan liked her because she was kind and friendly, very pretty. And since she was a doctor, he knew she had to be smart.

He ran a hand through his hair. He had heard about Leia’s death around the same time Brandon had and had gleaned a few more details. Leia's death was a suicide. She had hung herself from a tree in her own backyard last night. He knew that she and Brandon had been friends, but after seeing Brandon's reaction, he was beginning to get the feeling that their relationship had more depth than he had originally given credit.

He heard a knock at the door and opened it, feeling an overwhelming surge of gratitude as he saw Dr. Parachini on the other side holding her medical bag. “Hey Deb,” he said, smiling.

“Jordan.” She stepped inside, put the bag down and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, loving the way she felt against him, strong and soft, and the way she always smelled like baby powder.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as she released him.

“No problem. Where is he?”

“Up in his room. I put him to bed.”

“Okay. That’s good. Are his parents at home?”

“No, I think they both work. He’s usually the first to get home, then his younger sister.”

“All right. Well, I’m going to head up and talk to him. Technically, he's still a minor, so if you can find a phone number where one of his parents can be reached, I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best.”

He lead Dr. Parachini upstairs to Brandon’s room, pausing to give her another glance before heading back downstairs. She could give him a full examination anytime she liked as far as he was concerned.

He went back outside and searched his car for Brandon’s bag; he remembered seeing it when he picked him up at the park. It had been plain blind luck that he had seen him there while driving around... If Brandon had gone to hang out by the slides or jungle gym, Jordan never would have seen him from the road.

He dug through Brandon’s bag until he located Brandon's cell phone and turned it on. He scrolled through the contacts until he found a listing for “Mom’s work”.

“Bingo.”

Jordan and Brandon’s mother were waiting for Dr. Parachini when she came back downstairs.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with Brandon?” Mrs. Williams asked.

“He’s grieving, that's all,” Dr. Parachini said calmly. “He has a mild degree of shock, but it's emotional, not medical. I’m going to write a prescription for a sedative, which he can take if he wants to. He is dealing with a loss, so he will be under a lot of stress the next several days. I’m going to leave you the number of a grief counselor, if you want some more information. The best thing for Brandon right now is to make sure he has a good support system: friends, family, people to talk to.”

“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Williams said, turning to Jordan anxiously. “I don’t understand this.”

“Did you know the deceased?” Dr. Parachini asked, pulling the prescription off her pad and laying it on the table.

“Not well, just that she was a friend of Brandon's. She was such a nice girl,” Mrs. Williams said.

“May I ask how she died?” Dr. Parachini asked.

“Suicide,” Jordan replied.

Dr. Parachini sighed and shook her head, and Jordan felt his groin stir as he watched the way her hair brushed against her neck. She wasn’t wearing a wedding band and he wondered why. The woman was sex on legs.

“That’s so sad. So terribly sad.” She gave the card with the number of the grief counselor on it to Brandon's mother. “She’s a professional; she can answer most of your questions. Unfortunately, I’m only qualified to take care of the body, not the soul. But physically and mentally, he is all right, just shook up.”

“Okay... thank you,” Mrs. Williams said and walked with Dr. Parachini to the door. Jordan glanced at the stairs as Mrs. Williams came back inside. “Thank you so much for bringing him back, Jordan, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Mrs. Williams. I’d like to go back up and talk to him, if that’s all right?”

“Sure. Thank you. He would like that. I’m going to go get this prescription filled in case he needs it since you're going to be here, all right?”

“Sure thing.”

“Okay. Thank you again, Jordan.”

Jordan went back upstairs once Mrs. Williams had gone and checked on Brandon, who was burrowed under the covers.

Jordan sighed and sat down next to him. “Hey.”

“What?” Brandon asked, his voice muffled by the layers of blankets wrapped around him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Christ, why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“‘Cause we care about you,” Jordan said. “I know that you’re hurting; I know how you feel and I want to help.”

“Don't tell me how I feel. Don't you dare tell me that you know what I'm fucking feeling. You don’t know how I feel.”

“Brandon, I know what you’re going through.”

“Fuck that!” Brandon sat up, snarling. “How the fuck would you know how I feel! Did you lose your best friend?”

“Yes."

That alone deflated Brandon's indignant anger, and he sat there, slightly stunned. Jordan made eye contact with him and kept talking. "I lost my mom, my dad and my younger brother when I was eleven years old. When I was thirteen, I lost my best friend Sam. I know plenty about loss, Brandon.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s okay to be angry. I was, too. It’s a part of dealing. It’s natural. I was a wreck for years.”

Brandon felt ashamed. “No, really. I'm sorry. I didn't know you had lost your entire family.”

“I haven’t lost my entire family. Dylan is still around to take care of me. And it doesn’t matter if it’s a friend or family, it still hurts to lose someone you care about.”

“I just-“ Brandon scrubbed at his face. “I still can’t believe it. God. I freaked out so bad.”

“I know. I know.” Jordan climbed up onto the bed next to him. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard about my parents and Mattie. That was my younger bro. I was just stunned. I walked around like a zombie for days.”

“Can I ask you something?” Brandon asked softly.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“I left school right after I heard, but- do you know what happened to her? Leia?”

“Yes. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but I want to know. I’d rather find out from you than someone else.”

“Leia- God Brandon, I’m so sorry, but they think it was suicide.”

Jordan heard Brandon’s quick intake of air. “How?”

“Brandon, I don’t-”

“Tell me, Jordan.”

“She hung herself. This weekend, in her backyard.”

Brandon had been staring at Jordan, but at that, he shifted his eyes away, closing them.

“Brandon?”

Brandon looked back over, his eyes empty and bleak, filled with tears. “Thanks.” Brandon shifted. “Thanks for bringing me home and everything, but I’m just going to go back to sleep now.”

“All right, that’s fine,” Jordan said, pushing Brandon's hair back from his face as the teenager closed his eyes.

Jordan went back downstairs where Brandon's sister--God he couldn’t even remember her name right now--was sitting in the kitchen, eating an orange.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” Jordan said, sitting down. She offered him an orange and he took it. He was slightly dizzy and beginning to get shaky... a definite sign that he needed to eat something.

“My mommy told me that Leia died. Is that true?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That sucks. She was really nice.”

“Yes, it does suck and she was very nice.”

“Is Brandon sad?”

“Very.”

“Mommy told me not to bother him right now. Is he okay?”

“He’s sleeping. Sometimes when people get really sad, it makes them tired.”

The girl looked thoughtful, then shrugged and took another bite of the orange. “My mom said that you can stay for dinner if you want. She likes you.”

Jordan smiled. “I like her, too. And you. And your brother.”

She regarded him and took another bite. “I’m glad.”

When Brandon woke up, the first thing he noticed was that it was growing dark. The second thing he noticed was Jordan, reading something under the dim glow of his desk lamp. Brandon groaned and sat up, wandering what he was doing asleep before everything that had happened that day caught up with him.

Leia. Leia's dead. Dead.

Jordan turned when Brandon groaned and was now next to his bed. “Hey,” he said.

“God,” Brandon said, sitting on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. “What time is it?”

“Quarter 'til nine,” Jordan said. “Your parents are here and your friend Alexis stopped by. Left you a note.” Jordan nodded to his bedside table and Brandon saw a piece of paper with his name on the front. He picked it up, read it without really seeing the words, then refolded it, letting it drop to the floor. “Why are you still here?” Brandon asked.

Jordan shrugged. I thought you might need me. “I thought you might want to talk or something.”

“About what?” Brandon turned his head and looked at Jordan. “About how much easier things are going to be now that she’s dead? Now that you don’t have to worry about her anymore? I bet you’re glad she’s dead."

“I’m not. You know that.”

"Fuck you. I know you're glad to be rid of her,” Brandon said, standing up. “Now that she is gone, you can get the fuck out. Out of my house, out of my business and out of my life.”

“You don’t mean that,” Jordan said quietly, and the steady calmness he heard in his voice when Brandon himself was on the verge of falling apart pissed Brandon off even more.

“The hell I don’t. You’re glad she’s dead, so you don’t have to deal with me anymore. Hell, you probably gave her the idea yourself just so you could go back to your fucking perfect normal life and wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore, didn’t you. Didn’t you?!?!” Brandon lifted his hands and shoved Jordan away from him. Jordan stumbled back. The edge of the window sill hit him in the back of his knees, and if it hadn’t been closed, he would have taken an uncomfortable two story flight to the ground below. As it was, he still hit the back of his head against the hard glass.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you!” Brandon shouted, the ache of missing her already unbearable. “She’s gone and it’s all your fault and I hate you. You took her away from me, you-“ Brandon couldn't hold the tears back anymore and started to sob. “She’s gone, Leia, oh my God, she’s gone.”

Brandon collapsed on the floor, all of the anger suddenly gone. Nothing left but a big gaping hole in his heart where Leia had always been and was now gone forever. He pressed his face into his knees, his lips twisting into a grimace as he cried.

Jordan was right there, gathering Brandon’s unresisting form into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I’ve got you,” Jordan said softly. “It’s all right, I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Brandon couldn’t do anything but cry, sob through all the pain, all the misery, all the hurt, all of the deep aching loneliness. Over Leia, poor Leia, who obviously thought she had no other options but death itself.

Jordan got Brandon up, helping him back to bed after his crying fit. Brandon protested, but without much conviction behind it.

“Jordan, I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“It’s all right. Just rest now.”

Brandon was so exhausted he couldn’t even keep his eyes open, but he reached out blindly, grabbing Jordan’s wrist. “Jordan.”

“I’m right here.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I’m glad. Go to sleep. I won’t go anywhere.”

Jordan stayed where he was, watching Brandon sleep. Brandon looked very young and vulnerable with all his makeup gone, his face puffy and pale from crying and grief. He sighed and sat back down, tilting his chair back, trying to remember how he had acted when his parents had died.

There had been angry outbursts, tantrums, he was sure, but all he could remember from those days were sleeping a lot, crying a lot, feeling small and lost and ignored as people, some he didn’t even know, bustled around the house-“making arrangements”. How it hurt so much he could only cry, cry and wish he was dead so he could be in heaven with his mom and dad and baby brother. When Sam had died, it was hard to feel anything. He didn't know which had been worse.

He glanced at the note Brandon had dropped on the floor. Alexis had brought it by, looking about as wrecked as Brandon had. Jordan wasn’t curious about other people's business, didn’t like to be considered nosy, but he wondered what that note said. He glanced at Brandon, who was deep asleep, and reached over to grab the note, reading it in the dim gloom.

Brandon

I guess you’ve heard. I still can’t believe it. Poor Leia. I know how close you guys were. I wish there was something I could do. I noticed you weren’t in class later. I guess you went home. I think that was a good choice. Trust me, it wasn’t fun to be here.

They are having a memorial service for Leia on Wednesday at school. Andrew and I are going over to Leia’s tomorrow to help her mom with making funeral arrangements. She sounded pretty bad when I spoke to her earlier. You’re welcome to join us if you want, but don’t feel obligated if you don’t want to, we understand.

There was something I wanted to talk to you about today, something that’s important (to me at least), but considering the circumstances, I guess it can wait. I really hope... never mind. If there is anything I can do...

Love Alexis.

Jordan read it and folded it back up, putting it back on the bedside table. He felt guilty and ridiculous for peeking. The note was perfectly innocent. He got up and paced the room nervously. He rather liked Brandon's room... posters of System of a Down and Slipknot were crowded in next to DaVinci's Vitruvian Man and Van Gough's Starry Night. Art supplies littered every available surface and even the floor--pens, charcoals, colored pencils, and oil paints. Pieces of his artwork were everywhere, some posted on the walls, and sketchbooks sat in piles on the floor. Crammed in with all that was a small stereo and a laptop computer. It was a cluttered, disorganized mess and Jordan rather liked it.

There was a light knock on the door and Mrs. Williams came in. “How is he?”

“Grieving and angry and depressed,” Jordan said. “He mostly sleeps. I guess that’s best for right now.”

Mrs. Williams shook her head. “I feel so helpless. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this... I don’t know what to do.”

“No one really does,” Jordan said. “It just takes time, mainly. My parents and little brother died seven years ago... I still haven’t really gotten over it.”

Mrs. Williams smiled gently and squeezed his shoulder. The action was so motherly that Jordan felt himself swamped by emotion, missing his own mother so badly; it was a physical longing, a familiar ache. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jordan shrugged. “It’s something I just had to deal with. I kinda know what he’s going through.”

“I’m glad you were here for him today. You’re a good friend.”

Jordan wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just shrugged again.

“It’s awfully late. You can stay here for the night, if you want, but please call your... guardian so they don’t worry.”

“My brother knows where I am, but I’ll call him all the same.”

“All right. I’ll make up the spare room for you.”

“Thank you.”

He stared at Brandon a little bit longer, feeling more disconcerted the longer he stared. He was unnerved by his urge to touch him, to push Brandon's hair back out of his face, to touch his lips, to take that slender body in his arms again, like he did earlier, to hold him until all the pain bleed out of him, even though he knew it never would. He closed his eyes. This was only because Brandon was hurting and he wanted to help him. Help him because he knew what a cruel animal grief could be. Nothing beyond that. Nothing.

Jordan slept poorly that night, waking up after only a few hours, plagued by a familiar nightmare. Screaming metal, shattering glass, blood on the pavement, shining in the pulsing blue and red lights of nearby police cars. He hadn’t been anywhere near the scene of the accident that took his parent's life and that of his baby brother, but his imagination painted a vivid enough picture in his subconscious mind.

He sat in the unfamiliar room, surrounded by the dark, his breath coming in harsh, quick gasps, and the coppery taste of panic in his mouth. He shivered and kicked the sheets off his legs, getting out of bed. He blinked in the darkness and made his way to the door, cursing under his breath as he tripped over something... probably his own shoes. He opened the door and felt his way down the hallway until he found the bathroom. He went inside and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his sweaty face, letting the cool water wash away all the panic, the fear. He cupped some in his hands and drank.

With a heavy sigh, he turned off the faucet and turned back around to head towards the guest bedroom. He stopped right outside the room, hesitated, and then went to Brandon’s door. He opened it slowly, peeking inside.

Brandon was awake, unsurprisingly, sitting in his bed, his head on his knees, his body shaking with sobs. Jordan bit his lips. Brandon hadn’t seen him; he could just turn around and go back to bed. But his conscience pulled him into the room.

He didn’t say a word, but quietly sat next to Brandon on the bed, resting a hand on his back. Brandon didn’t even lift his head, just continued to cry. After a while, he sniffed and wiped at his face. “God, I can’t-I can’t deal with this.”

“It’s hard. It’s so hard,” Jordan acknowledged.

“Will it ever get better?”

“Not really. Eventually it might get easier to deal with your loss, but it’ll never go away completely. It shouldn’t, because that means we have forgotten them.”

“When does it stop hurting so bad?”

“I can’t say. It’s different for everybody. It will hurt less eventually, but until then, let yourself grieve as much as you want. You can always talk to me if you want. Or Alexis or Andrew.”

Brandon, to his surprise, chuckled. “I didn’t even know you knew the names of my friends.”

“I know more about you than you think.”

Brandon looked at him, slightly puzzled. Jordan felt himself blushing. Why had he said that?

“Did you know Leia? Like outside of me?” Brandon asked.

“Not really. I knew of her, but I never approached her on my own.”

Brandon chuckled dryly. “She would have blown you off.”

Jordan smiled. “Would she have?”

“Yeah.” Brandon broke into a new round of sobs. “Oh Leia,” he moaned through his tears. “Oh God, Leia...”

Jordan still couldn’t see how the human body could hold the capacity for so many tears. He wrapped his arms around Brandon, pulling him up against his chest and holding him. His heart beat hard against Brandon’s back as Brandon’s hands clutched desperately at Jordan’s arms. He was suddenly aware that Brandon was dressed the same way he was... boxers and no shirt... and that his skin was so warm against his. Jordan's face was so close to Brandon’s shoulder and neck... all he would need to do is shift his head slightly to let his lips brush over that skin.

Jordan willed his mind away from those thoughts and let out a small sigh. Brandon shivered as the puff of breath danced across his flesh, and Jordan felt his grip tighten slightly. This was quickly spiraling out of control, fueled by raging emotions, the slow, easy intimacy of late night encounters and the comforting privacy of the dark broken by nothing except slender silver moonbeams.

Brandon turned his head, trembling, saying Jordan's name softly, and letting it float on the still air. Jordan could feel something inside him breaking-- his self restraint, his pride, maybe even his heart as he lowered his head and let his lips brush over Brandon's.

It was a gentle, chaste kiss, no pressure and no expectation, just a gentle brush of lips over lips, then it was over.

Brandon said his name again, in a gentle inquisitive voice.

“Shh,” Jordan said. “Go to sleep now. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He felt Brandon relax in his embrace, and Jordan gently maneuvered him down onto the bed and sat there for a long time watching him sleep, occasionally running a hand through his hair. Deciding he already had too much on his mind, Jordan promised himself he would get everything sorted out tomorrow. He had every intention of going back to the spare room and his bed, but when sleep found him, he was still in Brandon’s bed, his arm around Brandon’s waist like it was always meant to be there.