His Tiny Sun

Chapter 6 - The Fictional World of Fantasies

CHAPTER 6

The Fictional World of Fantasies

Alan pressed both hands against his mouth as soon as Jonah left. He focused on his breathing, counted to twenty, then let out a squeal that his palms barely muffled. He hoped Jonah hadn’t paused on the way down to tie his shoes or something because everyone in the building had definitely heard.

Alan had theorized that the insulation in the walls was composed entirely of crumpled newspaper. He’d gathered no evidence to disprove his hypothesis so far.

He carelessly kicked off the shoes he still had on, then rushed to his bedroom, where he let himself collapse on top of his bed after closing the door. He rested his right hand on his chest and let out a long, calming breath. His heart was pounding so hard against his rib cage, he’d been worried Jonah would notice as they hugged.

Jonah would have been even more worried about his health and would have said something about it, and then Alan would have died from embarrassment.

Or…

Maybe he would have carried me to my bed , Alan mused, his cheeks warming up at the thought. He closed his eyes and smiled as he imagined the scene:

“Your heart is racing,” Jonah said as he placed his strong hand against Alan’s chest. “You need to lie down. Here, let me carry you.”

Alan didn’t have the time to pretend to protest, as Jonah immediately bent down and scooped him up in his strong arms and pressed Alan’s body against his strong chest. Alan reached up to hold on to Jonah’s strong shoulder—not because he was afraid he’d drop him, though—then rested his forehead against Jonah’s neck, relishing his warmth, his scent, and the safety of his strong embrace.

Jonah carried Alan to his room bridal style—and didn’t even bump his head or feet against the door frame—then gently laid him on top of his bed as though he were a delicate, precious thing. Jonah sat on the edge of Alan’s mattress and placed his palm on Alan’s cheek while looking into his eyes with deep concern. “You’re hot. ”

“So are you,” Alan said confidently.

Jonah’s eyes widened in surprise for a second, but then he smiled and inched closer. “I now have all the information I need to form a diagnosis,” he said with a lustful spark in his eyes, “and I happen to know just the cure.”

Alan was abruptly pulled back to the present when he heard the front door open and close. Eric was home.

Alan moved his hand away from the hardness in his pants and gripped his blanket as he forced himself to calm down. He’d almost broken his own promise to himself.

As long as Alan didn’t have clear confirmation that they’d broken up, he couldn’t in good conscience masturbate while thinking of Jonah. It was just wrong.

Alan sighed and took out his phone. He was greeted by Jonah’s social media profile picture—the last thing he’d been looking at before he ran back home. Jonah was standing in front of a mirror at the gym, wearing a tank top and shorts that didn’t leave much to the imagination. His skin was glistening with sweat, and his hair was just the perfect amount of disheveled. He was so hot.

Maybe just this once , Alan told himself as his free hand traveled back down.

No!

Alan threw his phone across the room and winced as he waited for the impact, but it miraculously landed on his beanbag. Eric would definitely have barged into his room to check on him if Alan’s phone had exploded against the wall.

Alan groaned as he rubbed his face with both hands. “I’m such a mess,” he murmured to himself.

He let out the biggest sigh, then glanced at his laptop. Perhaps he could continue the story he’d started writing the previous morning after Jonah sat down with him at the café. It was just fiction after all…what harm could it do?

Just fiction.

———

Alan ended up masturbating to John, who’d been behaving exactly like Jonah in the story he wrote, but it wasn’t Jonah, it was John. It was fiction. It was fine.

He’d been hoping it would help him get it out of his system, but if anything, he was even more fixated now. And horny. So horny. He’d spent all Saturday in bed, writing erotica. New ideas just wouldn’t stop popping into his head. He’d never written so much in such a short time.

Alan had been afraid Eric would knock on his door and notice the trash can overflowing with tissues, but he’d locked himself in his room as well, blasting loud music most of the afternoon. Eric was not one to stay in one place for long, so Alan knew he wasn’t feeling all right, but Alan hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to offer him any kind of support. After all, Alan had been secretly hoping they’d finally broken up.

Alan had felt awful about it at first, but then realized that his attraction to Jonah didn’t change the fact that Eric deserved to be with someone who genuinely made him happy. Jonah wasn’t that person. Alan couldn’t pretend to really know him, but Jonah didn’t seem like he was entirely himself when Eric was around. Some people just brought the worst out in each other—a reverse chemistry of sorts.

Alan put his laptop and his books into his backpack, then grabbed his coffee and left their apartment.

He’d woken up to a note from Eric saying Marina had forcibly dragged him out of bed to go hiking together. Alan was relieved. At least one of Eric’s friends was offering him support.

The weather was nice, which kind of sucked because Alan would be cooped up in the library all day studying. He had some catching up to do; the previous day had not been productive.

Alan looked at the sky and smiled. He took a picture of a bird-shaped cloud with his phone, then pressed the share icon and sent it to Eric and Marina.

? Alan: Can you see it?

It was his favorite game, back when they were kids. Whenever Eric was able to stay put for more than ten minutes, all three of them lay down in the grass and searched the sky for what they used to call fancy clouds . They still sent each other pictures from time to time; it never failed to put a smile on Alan’s face.

Alan listened to his Study Time playlist to set the mood as he walked toward the university. The library was packed when he got there, which was expected, as the semester was soon coming to an end. Alan still managed to find a spot to sit down, thankfully. He didn’t trust himself to study at home.

He set his books and his laptop on the table, then felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and frowned.

? Eric: Are you just friends with Marina now? :(

Huh? Wait.

Why was the cloud picture missing?

Oh, no.

Alan opened his conversation with Jonah, and surely, there it was. He let out a groan of despair—why couldn’t he ever be normal in his interactions with Jonah?

Alan stared at his screen for a moment, debating whether he should send another message to let him know that the previous message had been meant for someone else. He sighed as he typed, then erased, then typed again, and just as he was going to press send, he got a reply from Jonah that made him squeal. He swiftly shut his mouth when he remembered he was in a library, then bowed his head to ignore the glares that were aimed in his direction.

A big smile crept on Alan’s face as he took a closer look at the image Jonah had sent him. It was the very same cloud picture Alan had taken, but with an illustration of a seagull drawn on top that said: ‘Gimme your fries and nobody gets hurt’.

? Alan Thomas: Wow! You drew that yourself?

He mentally facepalmed—of course Jonah drew it himself.

? Alan Thomas: Sorry, stupid question. You’re very talented.

? Jonah Delamare: Haha thanks. It’s what I do all week (sorta) I work as a graphics designer.

? Alan Thomas: That sounds fun!

? Jonah Delamare: It’s alright.

Alan pouted at his phone. How was he supposed to respond to that?

? Jonah Delamare: What do you do when you’re not studying or taking pictures of fancy clouds?

Fancy clouds!

Alan put his phone down for a moment as he tried to keep his bubbling excitement contained. Jonah had looked through his picture albums on his social media account. Nobody did that unless they wanted to know someone better, right ?

Alan’s phone vibrated once more, and when he picked it back up, his smile and excitement faded.

? Eric: Are you angry at me?

Oh, no.

He’d forgotten to reply to Eric.