The Quarantine Diary of Adam Garrett [mxm]

Day 10

Um... mission accomplished.

Not in the way I wanted, though.

Yesterday, I woke up really early on purpose to avoid Brad. Today, I woke up at my normal time, and it was clear that he hadn't woken up yet. His door was closed and the lights were off in the living room and kitchen. I went to brush my teeth and have a shower, thinking for sure that the lights would be on and he'd be making breakfast when I got out, but that didn't happen. As I made coffee and grabbed some breakfast, I noticed a low humming sound from Brad's room—he was on the phone.

He didn't come out, so I took my coffee and breakfast into my room and started my day. In the quiet moments, I listened hard for Brad, but he wasn't moving around and doing things like usual. I heard his voice a little bit, as if he was still on the phone. When I wrapped up for lunch, he was sitting out on the balcony, phone pressed to his ear. Every few minutes he said "Yeah" or "I know," in a soft, gentle voice.

Judging by the state of the kitchen, he hadn't eaten yet. So I made him a sandwich, tapping his shoulder and passing him the plate.

He turned and smiled up at me, looking so grateful, as if I'd just done him the ultimate kindness. His smile was genuine, but his eyes were puffy and red. You don't look like that if you haven't gotten some bad news.

As I ate and went back to work, I realized I know literally nothing about Brad. I know him as a high-energy, happy-go-lucky guy and ridiculously attentive roommate (and, like... as a guy I have a crush on), but I don't know anything about his family situation. My cousin, when she introduced us, just said he needed a place to live "ASAP." I wondered if the red eyes had something to do with that. I really wanted to know if there was someone I could go beat up for making him look like that.

When I was finished work, Brad was finally off the phone. He was making burgers and had some soft, sad acoustic music playing. Death Cab for Cutie, I think. He smiled at me when I walked in, but it wasn't the bombastic greeting I'm used to.

I asked what's up and he just came out and told me that his grandma died. She was in a home in Nova Scotia and they've been under quarantine for a few weeks. Once she had symptoms, it was only two days before she passed away.    

I asked if he was close to her.

"I suppose. I haven't visited in too long, since I moved out here. But I was on the phone with Mom and my aunts and cousins all day while they... take care of things. I'm the only guy left in the family so I always end up being the referee, somehow. And the therapist."

"You're good in that role," I said. "But it's got to be tough to be that guy."

Brad nodded and carried on chopping onions for the burgers. He was sniffling and blinking in a tell-tale way.

So I said, "Is it just the onions or do you need a hug?"

Brad didn't even say anything. He set the knife down, turned around, and I opened my arms and he pulled me into a tight hug.

I hadn't really realized how much bigger than me he is. He's tall, like six-foot three at least. I could just barely tuck my head into his shoulder, and I squeezed him as tight as I could because I wanted him to feel it. He breathed out slowly, like he was letting out all this tension, and I felt my eyes prickling. Maybe it was the onions. Probably not.

The hug lasted... god, I don't know how long. We readjusted, relaxed, then squeezed harder. I turned my head so I could breathe. Brad nestled his head down further against my shoulder. I concentrated on trying to squeeze as much love into him as possible, visualizing it as waves flowing from my body into his. I tried really, really hard not to get an erection. Because we were so, so close to each other. Like, pressed together from collarbone to knee. My mind was reeling. The closeness was intoxicating.

I always find that when I hug a male friend I'm not interested in romantically or sexually (or who I don't want to know I'm interested), I cup my hands or ball them into fists so my palms don't rest on his back. Subconsciously, it feels like my hands full-on touching him would signal interest. With Brad, it was only several minutes after initiating the hug that I realized my hands were spread, full-contact, against his shoulderblades.

I decided I would hang on as long as he did. The minutes crawled by. Brad leaned sideways until his hip was braced against the counter, but he didn't let go of me. Then he rolled, pulling me under him, so my lower back was pressed against the counter. My heart was pounding. It felt... different. It felt like we'd moved into different territory. Like, I was comforting him and he was clinging to me, and then he took control. Ugh, it was... amazing.

Eventually he whispered, "I'm sorry."

I don't remember exactly what I said, but it was something like this: "It's okay. I understand. It's a really shitty thing that happened. It's understandable that you feel bad. I'm here, though. I'm here."

Brad still wasn't letting me go. Now his face was burrowed against my neck. He exhaled and his hot breath went straight down my shirt. I was committed. I would hold on as long as he did.

It felt like forever had passed by the time he let me go. Everything had changed. I felt charged up, kind of frantic. I was closer than I've ever been to blurting out my feelings to someone, but it wasn't the time. Brad pushed his hands through his hair, making it stand up straight. He needs a haircut.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I don't have a magic trick for you today. I'm working on one, but it's not ready yet. I know I said I'd do one every day, but... ugh, I hate feeling unproductive."

I had to cut in: "Brad. You do more than enough. You're allowed to have an unproductive day. Especially on a day when you get bad news."

Brad nodded for a long time, looking kind of spaced-out. His hair was still standing up. I told him he needed a haircut and he asked if I could give him one tomorrow. I said yes, of course.

Then we ate dinner on the couch and watched a movie and went to bed. I can still feel the hug and how hard I was trying to fill him up with love. I can still feel his shaky exhale against my shoulder.

So Operation Touch Brad was a success. I just wish it happened under happier circumstances.