Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Forty-Six: Take Or Leave What You Will 2/3

"I don't understand," Emery said, disbelief etched on his face. "You're the one who encouraged me. You're the one who found this studio."

"Would it have made more sense for me to try to convince you to stay where you were when there was no good reason for that, just because I'd miss you? When I know living there was never what you'd have chosen for yourself? When I couldn't even bring myself to forgive you before, but was still hoping to keep you tied to me, somehow?" The weight of all he could have lost was overwhelming. "I have no idea how you can even stand looking at my face after the way I've treated you all this time. I'm so sorry—"

"You?" Emery sounded baffled. "Josh, you've given me everything, you—"

"No," he interrupted. "No, I didn't. I just took. You keep selling yourself short, but you conquered everything on your own; all I gave you was a roof. You managed to pull yourself out of the hole Roger carved for you, and I'm so proud of you for that... I wouldn't ask you to give that up. You started looking as soon as you could afford it, and you couldn't seem to leave fast enough, and I... We can take this at whatever pace you want, for however long you want. I want you in my life — that's the only thing that matters."

Emery stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

"Did it never occur to you that I was accelerating my departure only so I'd stop imposing on your generosity?"

"Imposing?" It was Josh's turn to stare. "I told you I enjoyed having you there. I told you that from the get go."

"And I wanted to believe you. I did, for a time, but then... You became so distant after Mark's birthday, and I— I thought I was on the verge of overstaying my welcome. That you'd be glad to have your apartment back. You found this studio. You helped me move."

"And I'll help you move again, if that's what you want." He'd promised himself he wouldn't ask it of Emery, but he couldn't help it. Not when he could swear they both wanted the same thing. He took Emery's face in his hands again, stealing a kiss before getting up abruptly to locate his jeans. The key Emery had given back that morning was still in his back pocket.

"This is yours. I'm not trying to take away your independence — I'd never ask you to give that up for me. But my home is yours as well, and I don't want you wondering if you're welcome, not ever. It's yours to come and go as you please."

Emery's eyes flittered between the key and Josh, a look of longing in his features. "Josh, you— Please don't make sweeping statements like that one without thinking them through. Because you... I have no wish to overstay my welcome with you — under any circumstances — and what it seems you're offering—"

"What I'm offering is half of my life," Josh interrupted, feeling absurdly grateful that words were cooperating with him. "Take or leave what you will, but that's what's on offer. Having you living with me... You make everything better. I don't want to waste any more time not saying what I mean."

Emery rose to take the key from him with startling alacrity, looking fierce and strong despite his slender build. Expressive brown eyes flashed, resolute. "I don't want this apartment. I never wanted to live anywhere that didn't have you in it, but I didn't... You'd already given me so much, Josh. So much more than I'd ever deserved from you — the least I could do was not take further advantage. I always wanted to stay. It has nothing to do with independence or the giving up of it. Having my independence means the freedom to choose from the options available to me; it doesn't mean choosing the worst one simply to prove I can."

The studio was so small that everything was within easy reach. It took Emery no time at all to find his key chain and slide the key back where it belonged. They took a quick shower after that, likely the first and last time they'd do so in the studio. Soon they were negotiating the best way to fit on the couch so they could fall asleep, skin to skin, forehead to forehead, for what Josh hoped was the first of many nights spent with each other.

Despite how exhausted he felt Josh didn't want to fall asleep — he wanted to revel in the moment, in being here with Emery at last, together in near darkness. He smiled, wide and helpless. "I guess it's a good thing we didn't get much unpacking done."

"So it is," Emery agreed, voice soft. He was betrayed by a yawn. "I'd suggest we pack the rest now, but today was a long day even before..."

"Even before you made me forget my own name?"

"Did I?" Josh could hear the smile in his voice. "Good. That's good. I'd hate to be the only forgetful one of the two of us." Another one of his deep kisses, that made Josh wish he was eighteen again so he could do more than kiss back on such short notice. "But I'll endeavor to repeat your name more often next time, to ensure you're reminded of it. Josh."

A shiver ran through him at the sound of his name on Emery's lips, said like that. He laid a hand on Emery's neck, thumb caressing his jaw, and got lost in kissing back. His eyes closed and, slowly, he started to succumb to the call of sleep. Emery's voice brought him back, low and filled with emotion.

"The night I heard you in the park... At first I thought I was delusional. That the fever had spiked and was causing me to hear things that weren't there. The way I'd missed you — it wouldn't have been a surprise, that my mind had conjured you. But then you started screaming." A huff. "Screaming. As if it were safe, as if it were broad daylight. Do you remember what you screamed?"

Josh held him closer, pressing his lips to Emery's temple. He didn't much like reminiscing about the state he'd found Emery in. "I remember calling your name. I don't know if I yelled anything else — I was so afraid you'd moved on already, that I'd gotten there too late to find you..."

Emery caressed Josh's cheek, his touch infinitely tender. "You said, 'It's Josh. Winters, Josh Winters.'" An incredulous laugh. "As if I could have forgotten your voice. As if I wouldn't know who the madman was who screamed 'it's Josh' at that ungodly hour without your last name to help me place you."

Josh let out a breath, still unsettled by the memories. "I can't explain what I was thinking, beyond that it was probably my last chance to find you and I couldn't bear to picture you homeless and alone. I was terrified I was too late." A laugh that was all pain. "I keep being terrified I'm too late with you, but you're the one getting hurt. I swear I'll do better. Mark said I should see a therapist, and I will. I'll go. I'll do better by you."

"Josh," Emery said, then kissed him with an intensity that put all their earlier kisses to shame. After a deep breath he said, "I've been seeing one these past few weeks. A therapist, I mean. It's still too early to know if it'll be the right fit, but I'm working to be better. I was trying to be better for myself, but to have the option to be so for you as well, I... Josh."

How he had ever been so willing to miss out on this wonderful man in the name of illusory protection, Josh didn't know. "Emery, that's good. That's so good. You have one, I'll find one too, and we'll both work on it, On being better for ourselves and for each other. And I won't ever have to see you hurt the way I found you in that park."

"Agreed. I resented you, a little, back then" Emery confided. "For all that I'd missed you, all that I'd wanted to see you again, I'd gotten to a point where I was numb, and you... One look at you and I was feeling again. I'd worked so very hard to wean myself off of that particular habit, but you wouldn't take no for an answer."

He'd never forget how Emery had looked. The unnatural thinness, the bruises, the lice. The complete and utter lack of care for his own well-being, that first morning. Josh's arms tightened around him even though there was no more space between them. "No, I wouldn't. I couldn't. Not that time."

"What I'm trying to say is thank you. Even if you weren't here now — even if I'd never gotten to have you — you gave me back my life. My will to live it. That after all that you wish to share it with me, despite how much I hurt you, it... I have no words. I love you."

Josh couldn't let Emery keep seeing things like that. Not if he was trying to be worthy of having him. "You keep mentioning that — 'how much you hurt me' — but, Emery, you hurt me for one night. I left you to hurt for years, alone, and then I went and made it worse because I couldn't even ask why, and I love you, and I..." He exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. I'd never been in love before. That's my only excuse. I thought people were exaggerating when they said how it felt — I was in a steady relationship for years and it never felt like this. Not before you. It terrified me beyond belief."