In the Closet (boy x boy)

18. Things to Do on Your Knees

Sunday, April 9th

I learn a bunch of somethings today. The first something I learn is that whiteboard cleanser sprays with more pressure than you would be inclined to expect.

I screech, shielding myself with the cloth I intended to clean the board with. I obviously do a particularly poor job because a spurt reaches my eye. The bottle of cleanser meets the floor. The second something I learn is that said whiteboard cleanser is corrosive, therefore not a good choice of eyeball drenching liquid. The burn is immediate and far from dull, like a deep cut from a toothed steak knife. I blink, shuffle my limbs around as if it were any help to my wailing eyeball.

"The fuck you doing?" Tavish asks from somewhere in the class, wherever he chose to start his desk-cleaning.

"Ow, my eye," I whine. I don't see the way he reacts, not really. I don't reckon he would react at all. Until, I learn a third something. The third something I learn is that Tavish McCloud cares about my survival, somewhat.

His boots squeak against the floor and he rams into me. He holds my shoulders in a serious grasp, swatting my hands away to get a proper look. Through a blurry vision, I make out his handsome face, the fret in his gaze, the knot of his eyebrows, the gentleness of him. The fourth something I learn is that Tavish McCloud has a laughable skill in management of emergencies. I warrant myself a full, VIP experience of that skill when he flings me towards the sink, whams my hips into the counter and dips my head under cool running water. In the few seconds it takes me to comprehend what all the rough handling was about, I conclude that there are as many odds towards the burn subsiding than there are towards me drowning. I would have laughed, assuredly, if I was in any disposition to do so. I wasn't. I try to speak but all that can be heard is gurgling. I start to wonder whether this might only be a murder attempt to erase any threat I represent and whether the board cleanser was in on the job. Finally, Tavish decides to let me live and I forgot all about my eye already. He passes a hand over the side of my face to wipe most of the water away. Then he cups my jaw with both his palms and tilts my head just a bit. We're a couple inches apart. My skin yearns for more, I burn for him. But he backs away abruptly with an awkward heaving motion to his shoulders. He stares at a cabinet behind my head, to my right.

"You're fine," he tells me and I might believe it.

"Yeah. Doesn't burn anymore. Does it look alright?" His eyes flicker back on me to dart away as soon as they came. He chews his bottom lip, nods slowly.

"Looks good." Then I realize I don't look good at all. Half my hair is drenched, all of it is tousled. My shirt bears a couple damp spots, its collar all askew. I blink up at Tavish and pretend insecurity hasn't punctured my heart in a couple places.

He flicks his head to the side, gazing anywhere but at me. My stomach sinks to my feet. The fifth something I learn, not without surprise, is that Tavish's body reacts as waywardly as its host. By the time I catch a clear glimpse of the bulge in his pants, he's leaving the classroom and informing me that he's headed to the bathroom. I bite my tongue to will away the images I now associate with the bathroom. I rub my good eye to make sure I'm not hallucinating. I'm not.

"Oh, well." I swipe my cloth against the board, refusing to pick up the damned cleanser that tumbled onto the ground earlier.

---

The sixth something I learn is that the chess club's reserved classroom has gigantic windows.

"Is this a prank? A joke? A stunt?" I ask, neck craned to observe the window in all its length.

Tavish hums in approval next to me once his bathroom break is over.

"A— A— Nope, I got nothing." He shrugs, reaching in the trolley as if anything could help cleaning those monstrosities.