Chapter 4 – Burn Me Again

With his drink in hand and his eyes averted, Eliot sat at the rear of the bar.

The volume of the music was high. People danced and laughed. But in the gym, Eliot could only hear the kiss's echo. Jaxon's mouth against his. The fire. The misunderstanding.

He detested it.

He detested the fact that he still felt it.

A voice said, "Hey."

When Eliot turned, he saw a man standing next to him. Tall, kind, and smiling well. "Are you here by yourself?"

Eliot gave a nod. "Yes."

The man slid onto the seat next to him and introduced himself as Mason.

They conversed. Mason had a sense of humour. Assured. It's easy to be around.

Eliot also wished to forget. Only for a short time.

One drink became two. Then they were outdoors, sharing a kiss in the darkness behind the bar. He had Mason's hands on him. His breath was warm.

However, Eliot's thoughts were solely focused on himself.

Jaxon.

He touched him in a certain way. The expression on his face. The kiss that caused Eliot's heart to accelerate and his knees to become weak.

This was different.

Eliot retreated.

"What's wrong?" Mason enquired.

Eliot smiled artificially. "—I believed I could pull this off."

"You're not prepared?"

Eliot gave a headshake. "It's not you."

He left with a sorrowful heart. He was unsure about his desires. He knew it wasn't this, though.

Worse yet?

He recognised the person.

Eliot strolled down the campus hallway the following day with his head down. He hadn't answered the phone. In class, he hadn't looked at Jaxon. He was making an effort to move on.

Making an effort.

However, Jaxon appeared out of nowhere as he was turning the corner.

"Eliot."

Eliot stopped. "What are you looking for?"

"I simply must speak."

"You don't," Eliot stated icily. "You simply enjoy playing with people's minds."

With a step closer, Jaxon remarked, "I didn't plan any of this." "Not the texts. Not the kiss. Not one bit of it.

"You kissed me. You had an affair with my girlfriend. All of this began with you!

"I understand," Jaxon said quietly. He spoke less loudly now. Softer. "And I apologise."

Eliot's chest was constricted as he looked at him. "Sorry doesn't make things better."

For a moment, Jaxon seemed unsure of what to say and looked down. Then he looked up, his eyes uncooked.

"You believe that I am the bad guy," he said. "And perhaps you're correct. Perhaps I am.

Eliot remained silent.

Jaxon went on to say, "But I never faked how I feel about you."

Eliot gasped in surprise.

Jaxon did not await a response. He took a step back and left Eliot alone in the corridor, his heart racing.

He felt like screaming.

He felt like punching something.

He wanted to think this was all nonsense.

However, what is the reality?

He also had a feeling.

He was dying as a result.

Throughout the day, Eliot didn't SMS the number.

He considered it. A hundred times, he stared at his screen. Composed messages. Removed them. Again and again.

However, something inside of him gave in at night when the rain began to drum against his window.

At last, he typed:

"Have you ever had the feeling that nothing makes sense?"

The response arrived quickly:

"At all times."

"So why do we act as though everything is fine?"

"Because we're afraid of who we'll become if we stop acting like that."

With that message, Eliot looked. Then one more arrived.

"Come on over."

Eliot didn't even inquire as to where or who. He simply knew. He managed to get to Jaxon's dorm somehow. He knocked once, his hands shaking.

Slowly, the door opened.

Wearing sweatpants and a black tee, Jaxon stood there with unfathomable eyes and somewhat dishevelled hair.

They both remained silent.

Jaxon moved out of the way. Eliot entered.

The only sound in the room was the rain outside.

Jaxon said, "I didn't think you'd come," and closed the door.

"I nearly didn't."

"What made you do that?"

"I'm not sure."

Jaxon took a seat on the bed's edge. Eliot folded his arms and stood close to the desk.

"Even when you are surrounded by people, do you ever feel lonely?" Jaxon asked abruptly.

Eliot gave him a look. "At all times."

Jaxon raised his head. "Me too."

A pause occurred. Hefty, brimming with unsaid realities.

"I'm sorry it's you," Eliot said.

"I'm sorry it's me, too," Jaxon answered.

One more quiet.

Eliot moved in closer. Then another. Jaxon remained still. He merely observed him.

They remained silent as Eliot eventually took a seat next to him. They sat cheek to cheek and pretended that their hearts weren't pounding.

"I am unsure of our course of action," Eliot said.

"I don't either."

"But I'm present."

"That's sufficient," Jaxon declared.

The rain continued to fall gently and steadily.

Eliot looked over at Jaxon. They looked at each other.

The kiss came more slowly this time. Softer. Eliot's jaw was cupped by Jaxon, who seemed hesitant to hurry. As if he were afraid Eliot would vanish.

Eliot returned the kiss. Gently. Then more deeply.

They remained silent. Did not have to. Urgent, tender, and lost, their mouths spoke for them.

Eliot didn't stop Jaxon from sliding his fingers under his shirt. He allowed it to occur. It had to happen.

Piece by piece, clothes fall to the ground. Every action was cautious but necessary.

Their weight caused the bed to creak. Jaxon drew Eliot in and gave him another kiss on the lips, neck, and chest. Eliot's nails dug into Jaxon's back as his fingers gripped it.

Heat wasn't the only thing. There was a storm.

Eliot lay on his back, panting heavily, until it was finished. He felt his chest rise and fall. Sweat adhered to his body.

Jaxon remained silent next to him, gazing up at the ceiling.

Despite the warmth, Eliot felt abruptly cold and sat up, drawing the blanket over his lap.

He said, "I have no idea what we are."

Jaxon remained still. "We are the error you will continue to make until it seems correct."

Eliot felt his heart pound.

He didn't respond.

Because he secretly dreaded that Jaxon was correct.