Throwaways
by SalientLane
Chapter 5
The East Hastings branch of the Vancouver Public Library smelled like old paper and floor cleaner, with the slight hint of "vague East Vancouver bad smell" underneath. Jamie trailed his fingers along the spines of graphic novels, scanning titles with practiced ease. Three rows over, Eli hunched over a massive science fiction tome, his forehead creased in concentration. Their weekly library visits had become a ritual of sorts, two hours of peace in a world that had rarely offered them any.
Jamie pulled out a thin hardcover, its cover depicting surreal landscapes in vivid blues and oranges. Arzach by Moebius. He flipped through it, eyes widening at the dreamlike illustrations. No dialogue, just pure visual storytelling. Perfect.
"Found something?" Eli appeared at his side, clutching a brick of a book with a spaceship on the cover.
Jamie held up his find. "Moebius. Probably not your thing."
"Try me." Eli smirked.
"Fine. Weird French guy draws even weirder shit. No words."
"So, pictures for people who can't read. Got it."
Jamie elbowed him, fighting a smile. "What's yours? Another thousand pages of spaceships shooting at each other?"
"Alastair Reynolds," Eli said, holding up the book like it was precious cargo. "And it's not just spaceships. Doomsday machines called Inhibitors. It's a story is about how fragile life is in the huge, empty galaxy."
"Nerd."
"Proudly." Eli's eyes softened. "You getting that one?"
Jamie nodded, then turned back to the shelf. "Gonna grab one more. The graphic novel section's a little weak today."
They wandered to fiction, where Jamie found a paperback copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? He showed it to Eli.
"Philip K. Dick," Jamie said. " Blade Runner was based on it."
"I know who Philip K. Dick is," Eli said, bumping his shoulder against Jamie's. "Maybe you're the nerd."
A voice behind them interrupted their banter. "Great choice. The book's better than the movie, though that's sacrilege in some circles."
Jamie turned to see a tall, slim man with espresso skin, close-cropped hair, and rectangular glasses. He wore a cardigan over a button-up shirt – casual but put together. Beside him stood a slightly shorter man with auburn hair and freckles, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves.
"Personally, I think they're different animals entirely," the second man said. "The book asks different questions than the film."
Eli shifted closer to Jamie, instinctively protective. "You work here?"
The first man shook his head. "Just regulars. I'm Mark, and this is my husband, Steven."
Jamie noticed the simple gold bands on their fingers. A married gay couple, talking to them like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it was, he supposed, outside his father's twisted worldview.
"I'm Eli," his boyfriend said cautiously. "This is Jamie."
Steven smiled. "You guys have good taste. I've been trying to get this one into Reynolds for years." He nudged Mark with his elbow.
"Too many pages," Mark said, rolling his eyes. "I need plot before page three hundred."
Eli's face lit up. "But that's what makes his world-building so good! He takes his time developing the universe before he throws you into the action."
Mark laughed. "See what I deal with? Now there are two of them."
Jamie found himself relaxing. There was something easy about these men, something trustworthy. They weren't trying too hard or treating Jamie and Eli like broken things that needed fixing. They were just... talking to them. About books.
"You read Moebius?" Jamie asked, holding up the graphic novel.
Steven's eyes widened. "The Heavy Metal guy? Man, I haven't seen his stuff in years. His visual storytelling is incredible."
"That's what I was saying," Jamie said, shooting Eli a triumphant look.
"By 'saying,' he means 'weird French guy draws weird shit,'" Eli clarified, making both men laugh.
"Succinct but accurate," Steven agreed. He looked at them both with genuine interest. "You guys come here often?"
"Once a week," Jamie said. "We're at the crisis center down the street."
He wasn't sure why he offered that information so freely. Maybe because these men seemed safe, or maybe because he was tired of hiding who he was and where he came from.
If Mark and Steven were surprised or put off, they didn't show it. Mark just nodded. "Good program there. I've worked with them before, through my job at the youth advocacy center."
"And I run a book club here," Steven added. "For 2SLGBTQ+ youth and allies. Thursdays at seven. We're reading The Song of Achilles right now." He smiled. "You two would be welcome. No pressure, though."
Eli and Jamie exchanged a look, having one of their silent conversations. Jamie raised an eyebrow: What do you think? Eli gave a small shrug: Could be okay.
"Maybe we'll check it out," Eli said cautiously.
"Great," Steven said. "No obligation to talk if you don't want to. Some kids just come to listen. And there's always snacks."
"He bribes with food," Mark said, shaking his head fondly. "Classic teacher move."
"You teach?" Jamie asked.
"High school English. Hence the book club." Steven glanced at his watch. "We should get going. Board game night with friends." He pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to Eli. "My contact info, if you have questions about the club. Or books. Or anything, really."
Eli took the card, studying it before slipping it into his pocket. "Thanks."
As Mark and Steven walked away, Jamie caught them holding hands, their shoulders bumping together comfortably. It struck him how ordinary they seemed – two people who loved each other, built a life together. No drama, no hiding, no shame.
"They seem cool," Jamie said, watching them go.
Eli nodded. "Yeah. But we don't know them."
"I know." Jamie understood Eli's caution. Trust came hard when you'd been hurt as many times as they had. "Still might be worth checking out that book club, though."
"Maybe." Eli's expression softened. "The short one knew his graphic novels."
"Steven," Jamie corrected. "And you're just saying that because he agreed with me."
Eli slung an arm around Jamie's shoulders as they walked to the checkout desk. "You caught me. I'm biased toward anyone who thinks you're smart."
Jamie leaned into him, just slightly. "Guess that explains why you like me, then."
"Among other reasons." Eli's voice was light, but his eyes were serious when they met Jamie's.
Jamie felt that familiar flip in his stomach, the one only Eli could cause. He held up his books. "Let's get these and head back. Dinner's at six."
Jamie checked his watch and tapped Eli's shoulder. "Gonna hit the bathroom before we go." He made his way past the reference section toward the back of the library where the restrooms were. He pushed open the heavy door, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. The place was empty, and Jamie took his time, splashing cold water on his face after washing his hands. He was drying his hands when the door opened behind him.
"Well, look who it is. Little Jamie all cleaned up."
Jamie froze, the paper towel crumpled in his fist. He knew that voice. His stomach dropped as he raised his eyes to the mirror, confirming what he already knew.
Xan.
He stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, a lazy smile on his face. Xan didn't look like what people expected a dealer to look like. No flashy clothes or obvious signs. He wore dark jeans and a plain gray sweater that probably cost more than Jamie had ever held in his hand. His black hair was cut short on the sides, longer on top, falling over one eye in a way that looked careless but definitely wasn't. Everything about Xan was calculated.
"Xan," Jamie said, his voice steadier than he felt. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a public library." Xan's smile widened. "I read."
Jamie tossed the paper towel in the trash, trying to act casual. "I gotta go. Eli's waiting."
"Ah, yes. Your watchdog." Xan stepped further into the bathroom, effectively blocking Jamie's path to the door. "How is dear Eli? Still playing hero?"
"He's fine," Jamie said tightly. "We're both fine."
"So I see." Xan's eyes traveled over Jamie, taking in his clean clothes, his healthier appearance. "Heard you two got picked up by social services. Living in that center on Burrard Street."
Jamie didn't ask how Xan knew. Xan always knew things. It was part of what made him good at what he did.
"We're doing great," Jamie said, trying to move past him. "Excuse me."
Xan shifted, not exactly blocking him but making it impossible for Jamie to pass without touching him. "Don't be rude, Jamie. We're old friends, aren't we?"
Friends. Right. Jamie had given Xan nearly every dollar he'd managed to scrape together during those dark months on the streets. Had done things he couldn't bear to remember to earn those dollars. All for the sweet oblivion Xan sold.
"What do you want?" Jamie asked, his mouth dry.
"Just to catch up." Xan's voice was smooth as silk. "I've missed you. The streets aren't the same without your pretty face around."
Jamie's cheeks burned. Xan had always called him pretty, had always made him feel both special and small at the same time. It was a talent.
"I don't do that stuff anymore," Jamie said.
"So I've heard." Xan nodded, looking impressed. "Clean and sober Jamie. It suits you. You look good."
Despite himself, Jamie felt a flicker of pleasure at the compliment. Xan had that effect on people. Made them want to please him, want to be worthy of his approval. It was how he'd hooked Jamie in the first place, back when Jamie was fresh on the streets, scared and alone.
"Remember that night under the bridge?" Xan asked, his voice dropping lower. "When it was pouring rain and I let you crash in my car? You were shaking so bad. I wrapped you in my jacket."
Jamie did remember. Remembered how kind Xan had seemed that night, how safe he'd felt. Before he understood the price of that safety.
"That was a long time ago," Jamie said.
"Not that long." Xan moved closer, and Jamie backed up until he hit the sink. "I was good to you, wasn't I? Took care of you when no one else would."
Jamie swallowed hard. "I need to go. Eli's waiting."
"Always Eli," Xan sighed, shaking his head. "He's got you on a tight leash, huh? Doesn't let you have any fun anymore?"
"It's not like that," Jamie said, anger flaring. "He cares about me."
"And I don't?" Xan put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me, Jamie. After everything we've been through."
Jamie didn't answer. There was no point arguing with Xan. He just needed to get out of here, get back to Eli, get away from this pull he could still feel, this magnetism that had once dragged him down so deep.
"Anyway," Xan continued, reaching into his pocket. "I got you a little something. A welcome back present."
He pulled out a small plastic bag containing several white bars. Alprazolam. Xanax. Jamie's heart rate spiked. Heaven in a little white bar. It was impossible not to remember the floating, peaceful feeling it gave.
"I don't want that," Jamie said, but his eyes stayed fixed on the bag. "I told you, I'm clean."
"Just a gift, Jamie. No strings." Xan held the bag out. "For old times' sake. Take it or don't, your choice."
Jamie knew he should walk away. Push past Xan and get the hell out of this bathroom. Get back to Eli, to the library, to the safe, clean life he was building. But Xan was still blocking the door, still smiling that knowing smile. And Jamie just wanted him gone. Wanted this whole encounter to end.
"Fine," Jamie said, snatching the bag from Xan's hand and shoving it deep into his jeans pocket. "Now leave me alone. I mean it, Xan. Stay away from me."
Xan raised his hands in surrender, but his smile never faltered. "Whatever you say, pretty boy. But when you get tired of playing house with Saint Eli, you know where to find me."
He stepped aside finally, giving Jamie a clear path to the door. Jamie pushed past him, careful not to let their bodies touch. He could feel Xan's eyes on his back as he left.
In the hallway, Jamie leaned against the wall, his heart hammering. The Xanax in his pocket felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He should throw it away. Find a trash can and bury it deep where no one would see. He should tell Eli what happened, right now.
But then Eli would know he'd been talking to Xan. Would know he'd accepted drugs, even if he had no intention of using them. The disappointment in Eli's eyes would be unbearable.
No, better to get rid of the pills himself. Later. When Eli wasn't around to see. He'd flush them down the toilet back at the center. No one would ever know.
Jamie took a deep breath, composing himself before heading back to where Eli was sitting at a computer. His boyfriend looked up as he approached, smiling that smile that made Jamie's chest ache with how much he loved him.
"Ready to go?" Eli asked.
Jamie nodded, trying to smile normally. The weight in his pocket seemed to grow heavier with every step they took toward the exit.
Their room was quiet except for the soft rustle of clothes being removed. The day had been long – classes in the morning, therapy after lunch, then the library visit that had left Jamie with a knot in his stomach that wouldn't go away. Eli yawned and pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing it into the hamper by the door. Jamie unbuttoned his jeans and let them drop. He stepped out of them, bending to pick them up, when something small and white fell from the pocket and bounced upon the floor.
Time slowed to a crawl. The Xanax bar lay between them like a loaded gun. Jamie's blood turned to ice as Eli's eyes fixed on it, his expression shifting from confusion to recognition to something Jamie couldn't bear to name.
"What's that?" Eli's voice was low, dangerous in its quietness.
Jamie couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. The bar of alprazolam sat accusingly on the floor, its presence undeniable.
"Jamie." Eli's eyes lifted from the pill to Jamie's face. "What. Is. That."
It wasn't really a question. They both knew exactly what it was. Jamie stood frozen in his white briefs, his discarded jeans still in his hands, feeling more naked and vulnerable than he ever had.
"I..." Jamie's mouth opened and closed, but the words wouldn't come. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might crack his ribs.
Eli took a step back, putting more distance between them. His face had gone pale, his eyes filled with a hurt so profound it made Jamie sick to his stomach.
"Tell me you didn't," Eli whispered. "Tell me you didn't go looking for that shit again."
"No!" The word burst from Jamie with desperate force. "No, Eli, I swear. I didn't—I wouldn't—"
"Then how is there a freaking Xanax on our floor?" Eli's voice rose slightly, trembling with emotion. "Did it materialize out of thin air?"
Jamie dropped his jeans and took a step toward Eli, who flinched away as if Jamie's touch might burn him. The rejection sent a stab of pain through Jamie's chest.
"I can explain," he managed, the words coming out choked and broken. "Please, just let me explain."
Eli crossed his arms over his bare chest, his jaw tight. "I'm listening."
Jamie took a shaky breath. The weight of Eli's gaze was almost unbearable. "At the library. When I went to the bathroom." The words came in fragments, his brain struggling to piece them together coherently. "Xan was there."
Eli's expression darkened at the name. "Xan."
"I didn't know he'd be there, I swear to God," Jamie said quickly. "He was just... there. When I came out of the stall."
"And he just happened to have pills on him," Eli said flatly. "And they just happened to end up in your pocket."
"He wouldn't let me leave," Jamie said, desperate for Eli to understand. "He blocked the door. Kept talking about the old days, about how he took care of me. I told him I was clean. I told him I didn't want anything to do with him anymore."
Eli's posture was still rigid, but something in his eyes had softened slightly. "Go on."
Jamie sank onto the edge of their bed, suddenly exhausted. "He pulled out the pills. Said they were a gift, no strings attached. I told him no, but he wouldn't move. Wouldn't let me leave." Jamie looked up, meeting Eli's eyes. "I just wanted to get away from him. I just wanted to get back to you. So I took them. I put them in my pocket so he'd let me go."
"And you didn't think to tell me this earlier?" Eli asked. "We were at the library for another few minutes. We walked all the way back here. We had dinner. Group. Free time. And you didn't think to mention, 'Hey Eli, my old dealer cornered me in the bathroom and gave me pills'?"
Put like that, it sounded so stupid. So obviously wrong. Jamie's eyes burned with unshed tears.
"I was going to flush them," he said quietly. "When you weren't around. I just... I was afraid you'd think..." He trailed off, unable to finish.
"Think what?" Eli pressed. "That you were using again? That you were lying to me?"
"That I wanted them," Jamie whispered. "That I'm still that person. That I'm weak."
The admission hung in the air between them. Jamie stared at his hands, unable to look at Eli's face. He'd worked so hard these past months. To get clean. To be worthy of Eli's love, of his own life. And one encounter in a bathroom had brought all his shame and self-loathing rushing back.
"Tell me everything," Eli said finally. "Don't leave anything out."
So Jamie did. He told Eli exactly how Xan had approached him, what he'd said, how he'd made Jamie feel small and trapped. He described the way Xan had reminisced about their time together, the subtle threats beneath his words. How taking the pills had seemed like the fastest way to escape, to end the encounter before anyone – especially Eli – noticed how long he'd been gone.
"I didn't want them, Eli," Jamie finished, his voice raw with emotion. "I don't want them. I was going to get rid of them tonight, I swear."
Eli was quiet for a long moment. Then he crossed the room and knelt down, picking up the Xanax bar from the floor. He turned it over in his palm, studying it with a detached sort of interest.
"How many did he give you?" he asked.
Jamie hesitated, then reached for his jeans. He dug into the pocket and pulled out the small plastic bag with the remaining pills. "Five," he said, holding them out like an offering. "Including that one."
Eli took the bag, adding the loose pill to it. He closed his fist around them, then looked up at Jamie, still kneeling on the floor.
Jamie couldn't breathe. He'd laid himself bare, told the whole truth. Now it was up to Eli to decide if that was enough. If he was enough.
"I'm sorry," Jamie whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Eli stood slowly, still holding the pills, his eyes never leaving Jamie's face. For the first time since they'd met, Jamie couldn't read his expression. Couldn't tell what he was thinking. The uncertainty was excruciating. Jamie sat down on the bed again, looking utterly defeated.
"I believe you," Eli finally said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything between them. He set the bag of pills on their desk and sat down next to Jamie on the bed, close enough that their shoulders touched. "You don't have to keep apologizing. I know you didn't go looking for that stuff."
Jamie should have felt relief. Eli believed him. There was no accusation in his voice, no disappointment in his eyes. But the knot in Jamie's stomach only tightened. He didn't deserve this easy forgiveness. He should have told Eli immediately. Should have thrown the pills away the second Xan was out of sight. Should have been stronger.
"I should have told you right away," Jamie said, his voice barely audible.
"Yeah, you should have." Eli didn't sugarcoat it, but there was no anger in his tone. "But I get why you didn't."
Jamie shook his head, not looking at Eli. "I was weak. Just like before."
"Bullshit." Eli's voice was firm. "Taking those pills to get away from him doesn't make you weak. It makes you smart. Xan's dangerous. You did what you had to do."
Jamie wanted to believe him. Wanted to accept the absolution Eli offered so freely. But shame burned too hot in his veins. "I saw him and I just... froze. Like I was that scared kid again, desperate for whatever he was selling."
"But you didn't take them," Eli pointed out. "They're still in the bag."
"This time," Jamie said. The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
Eli sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let's just go to bed, okay? We'll flush them in the morning and forget about it."
They crawled into bed in silence, neither bothering to put on pajama bottoms as they usually did. The air between them felt charged, heavy with things still unsaid. Jamie stayed on his side of their pushed-together beds, turning away from Eli to face the wall. He curled in on himself, making his body as small as possible.
He heard Eli settle in beside him, felt the mattress dip under his weight. For a moment, there was just the sound of their breathing in the dark room. Then Eli's arm snaked around his waist, pulling him back against his chest.
"Don't," Jamie whispered, trying to pull away. He didn't deserve Eli's warmth, his comfort. Not after today.
"Don't what?" Eli's breath was warm against the back of Jamie's neck.
"Don't be nice to me." Jamie's voice cracked. "I don't deserve it."
Eli's arm tightened around him. "That's not for you to decide."
The simple statement broke something in Jamie. A sob escaped him, then another, his body shaking with the force of them. Eli turned him gently until they were face to face, pulling Jamie against his chest and holding him while he cried.
"I'm sorry," Jamie gasped between sobs. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was better. I thought I was stronger."
"You are better. You are stronger." Eli's hand moved in soothing circles on Jamie's bare back. "One bad day doesn't change that."
Jamie pressed his face into the crook of Eli's neck, his tears hot against Eli's skin. All the fear and shame he'd been holding since the encounter with Xan poured out of him. "I didn't want them," he said, the words muffled against Eli's skin. "I swear I didn't."
"I know." Eli's voice was steady, a lifeline in the storm of Jamie's emotions. "I know you, Jamie. Better than anyone. Better than Xan ever did."
Jamie's sobs gradually subsided, leaving him drained but somehow lighter. Eli's hand never stopped its gentle motion on his back, a constant reminder of his presence, his acceptance.
"You're the strongest person I know," Eli said softly. "You survived things that would have destroyed anyone else. You got clean. You're still clean."
Jamie lifted his head to look at Eli, their faces inches apart on the pillow. Even in the dim light, he could see the sincerity in Eli's eyes, the unwavering faith.
"Only because of you," Jamie said.
Eli shook his head. "No. I was just there to witness it. You did the hard work yourself."
Eli's hand moved from Jamie's back to his face, gently wiping away the tears with his thumb. The touch was so tender it made Jamie's chest ache. How had he gotten so lucky? How had he found this boy who saw all his broken pieces and still thought he was worth saving?
"I love you," Jamie whispered, the words inadequate for what he felt but all he had to offer.
"I love you too," Eli said. "Nothing changes that. Not Xan, not pills, nothing."
Eli's lips found Jamie's, the kiss gentle at first, then deepening as Jamie responded. This was familiar territory – they'd been kissing for weeks now, learning each other's rhythms, the push and pull of desire tempered by their mutual agreement to take things slow.
But tonight felt different. The raw emotion of their conversation had stripped away barriers Jamie hadn't realized were still there. He pressed closer to Eli, their bodies aligned from chest to thigh, only the thin cotton of their briefs between them.
Eli's hands were in his hair, on his back, mapping the contours of his body with a reverence that made Jamie tremble. Jamie's own hands grew bolder, trailing down Eli's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
"Is this okay?" Eli whispered against his lips.
Jamie nodded, unable to form words. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than to be closer to Eli, to erase any distance between them. His hand slipped lower, tentative at first, then growing more confident as Eli's breath hitched.
They moved together, learning each other in this new way, their breaths mingling as hands explored and bodies pressed closer. It was clumsy at times – they were both new to this – but there was a perfect rightness to it that transcended technique.
When they finally came together, Eli's name was a prayer on Jamie's lips, a benediction that washed away the last of his shame and doubt. For this moment, there was no past, no future, only the present – only Eli's body against his, only their shared breath and racing hearts.
After, they lay tangled together, sweat cooling on their skin, neither willing to break the spell with words. Eli's fingers traced lazy patterns on Jamie's back. Jamie's head rested on Eli's chest, the steady thump of his heart the most comforting sound in the world.
"You okay?" Eli asked eventually, his voice hushed in the quiet room.
Jamie nodded against his chest. "More than okay."
He felt Eli press a kiss to the top of his head. "Me too."
There would be more to deal with tomorrow – the pills to flush, the memory of Xan to contend with, the constant work of staying clean. But for now, in this bed, in Eli's arms, Jamie felt whole. Felt worthy of love. Felt, for one of only a handful of times in his life, truly at peace.
Morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow over their tangled bodies. Jamie woke first, Eli's arm heavy across his chest, their legs intertwined beneath the sheets. For a moment, he just lay there, savoring the warmth of Eli's skin against his, the comforting hardness pressing against his thigh. But then his eyes caught on the small plastic bag sitting on their desk. The pills. Reality intruded on the peaceful moment, a reminder of what needed to be done.
Jamie shifted, and Eli's eyes blinked open. "Morning," he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.
"Morning," Jamie replied, nodding toward the desk. "We need to get rid of those."
Eli followed his gaze and nodded, instantly alert. "Yeah, we do."
They dressed quickly, Jamie pulling on a T-shirt and sweatpants, Eli in basketball shorts and a hoodie. Eli grabbed their bathroom kits while Jamie picked up the bag of pills, slipping it into his pocket. The weight of it felt different today – not a burden of shame but a remnant of a past they were choosing to leave behind.
The hallway was quiet, most of the other teens still asleep. Early morning was the best time to shower without waiting. Eli checked that the bathroom was empty before they went in.
"Should we do it now?" Jamie asked, pulling the bag from his pocket.
Eli nodded, locking the door behind them. "Why wait?"
Jamie approached the nearest toilet stall, Eli right behind him. He opened the bag and held it over the bowl. Five small white bars, so innocuous-looking. Hard to believe something so small had nearly broken them apart last night.
"Goodbye, Xan," Jamie said quietly, upending the bag. The pills dropped into the water with barely a sound.
Eli reached around Jamie to flush. They watched in silence as the water swirled, carrying the pills away. It should have felt more momentous, Jamie thought. But there was something fitting about the simplicity of it. No fanfare, no drama. Just a quiet decision to choose each other, to choose life.
"That's that," Eli said, his hand finding Jamie's.
Jamie squeezed his fingers. "Yeah. That's that."
They showered quickly, side-by-side in the communal bathroom. Despite what had happened between them last night – or perhaps because of it – there was a new awareness in their movements, a heightened consciousness of each other's bodies. Glances held longer, casual touches lingering. By the time they finished and headed to breakfast, Jamie felt lighter than he had in days.
The morning passed in its usual routine – breakfast, classes, individual therapy sessions. But everything felt subtly different to Jamie. The world seemed sharper, colors brighter. He caught Eli looking at him during English class and felt heat rise to his cheeks, remembering the feel of Eli's hands on his skin last night.
By the time group therapy rolled around after lunch, Jamie was in a strange state – relaxed and tense all at once. He and Eli took their usual seats in the circle, but they sat closer than normal, their knees touching.
Dr. Chen arrived with her clipboard, smiling as she took in the group. "Good afternoon, everyone. Let's start with check-ins. How are we feeling today?"
Zoe went first, talking about a phone call with her aunt that had gone well. Danny mentioned struggling with nightmares again. Marcus complained about the cafeteria's attempt at tacos. The usual.
"Jamie? Eli?" Dr. Chen prompted. "How are you two today?"
Jamie glanced at Eli, who smiled softly. "I'm good," Jamie said, surprised by how much he meant it. "Really good, actually."
"Me too," Eli added, his knee pressing against Jamie's.
Dr. Chen nodded, but her eyes were shrewd. "You both seem... different today. More settled, perhaps?"
Jamie felt heat creep up his neck. Was it that obvious? Could everyone see the change between them? He remembered Eli's hands on his body, his breath against his neck, the way they'd moved together in the dark.
"Just had a good night's sleep," Eli said, his voice impressively casual.
Marcus snorted. "Yeah, right." He looked between them, a knowing smirk on his face. "You two finally moved past wank and thank, didn't you?"
Jamie's face went from warm to burning in an instant. Beside him, Eli made a choking sound.
"Marcus, that's inappropriate," Dr. Chen said, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
"What?" Marcus spread his hands innocently. "Look at them! They're practically glowing."
The other teens were staring now, some giggling, others looking embarrassed on Jamie and Eli's behalf. Jamie wanted to sink into the floor. But then Eli's hand found his, fingers intertwining deliberately, publicly.
"Our relationship is none of your business," Eli said, but there was no real heat in his words.
Jamie looked at their joined hands, then at Eli's face. Eli was blushing too, but his eyes were steady, unashamed. In that moment, Jamie felt a surge of love so powerful it nearly took his breath away.
"Alright, let's move on," Dr. Chen said, redirecting the group's attention. "Today I thought we could discuss future planning. You're all approaching the end of your initial program here, and it's time to start thinking about next steps."
The conversation shifted to talk of school options, job training programs, potential living situations. Jamie listened, but part of his mind remained focused on the warmth of Eli's hand in his. Next steps. The future. For the first time, those concepts didn't fill him with dread.
As the session ended, the teens filed out of the room. Marcus passed by Jamie and Eli, giving them an exaggerated wink. "Use protection, kids," he said, just loud enough for them to hear.
"Fuck off, Marcus," Eli called after him, but he was laughing.
Jamie leaned against Eli as they walked back to their room. "So much for keeping things private," he said.
"Does it bother you?" Eli asked. "That they know?"
Jamie considered the question. A year ago, even months ago, it would have terrified him to have others know about his relationship with Eli. His father's voice would have been too loud in his head, the shame too overwhelming. But now?
"No," he said, surprised at how true it was. "It doesn't bother me."
Eli smiled, that soft smile that was only ever for Jamie. "Good. Because I'm not interested in hiding how I feel about you."
As they reached their room, Jamie pulled Eli close, not caring who might see. "Neither am I," he said, and kissed him – briefly but firmly – right there in the hallway.
They had flushed more than just pills that morning. They had washed away the last of Jamie's shame, the last barrier between them. Whatever came next – whether it was more jokes from Marcus, decisions about their future, or inevitable challenges – they would face it together, no longer hiding any part of who they were or what they meant to each other. The world, more each day, felt not like a threat, but like a possibility.
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