His Tiny Sun

Chapter 8 - No Turning Back

CHAPTER 8

No Turning Back

Coming to the party had been a bad idea. Jonah didn’t know why he told Alan he would attend, but once he’d pressed send, it was too late to reconsider. Even though they didn’t know each other very well—or at all, really—Jonah couldn’t stand the prospect of disappointing Alan. Still, he should have just said no. It wasn’t like Alan had asked him on a date or anything. He only asked whether Jonah had been planning to attend, which he had not .

And yet, here he was.

Jonah had been considering leaving for a while, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was like he was stuck in his—frustratingly uncomfortable—chair. The university’s bar had the absolute cheapest furniture, which was no surprise, given how unhinged drunk students tended to be. He was pretty sure the wobbly table at which they were seated was held together with duct tape.

Once again, Jonah caught the beer that Sean almost knocked over and placed it back in the center of the table. It wasn’t like Sean to be so careless, but he was arguing with Isabel, which tended to hijack the majority of their neurons. Their animated babbling and dramatic gesturing were starting to get on Jonah’s nerves, though, and the awful music and overexcited crowd were not helping in the slightest.

And for what? Alan was standing all the way across the room—with Eric ,of all people—and had yet to come and talk to him.

I should have said no.

Jonah took out his phone to check a nonexistent notification for the third time, then looked back up, crossing Alan’s gaze for a split second before he looked away. Alan didn’t seem to have anyone to hang out with—apart from Eric, who was now flirting with some tramp—so why was he even here?

Jonah had never seen Alan attend one of these parties before. Jonah definitely would have noticed him if he was gravitating around Eric all those times; he’d been keeping an eye on the competition. Eric did not lack sex appeal, and it showed. He constantly had an entourage of men and women ogling at him and, in some cases, downright idolizing him. Jonah had not been one of them, though; he’d just been looking for a good, no-strings-attached fuck.

Which turned out to be a disaster.

Alan also wasn’t one of those people, obviously, so Jonah couldn’t help wondering why he’d wanted to come here at all. Surely, he’d been aware that Eric would ditch him for the first man—or woman , apparently—he could lure into his bed?

Jonah gritted his teeth as two obnoxious heads suddenly invaded his personal space.

“Who ya looking at?” Sean asked as he pressed his cheek against Jonah’s.

Isabel did the same on the other side, locking him into place. “Oohhh. Is it the cute blond holding his drink like he’s afraid someone will steal it from him?”

“Hey, I recognize him, he’s your new social media friend!” Sean shouted.

Jonah shoved him away. “Dude, you stalking me?”

Sean sat back down and gave Jonah a funny look. “Stalking people is exactly what social media is for.”

“I doubt you have many stalkers, though,” Isabel said as she sat back down as well, brushing her long auburn hair over her shoulder. “You haven’t posted anything in years.”

Jonah crossed his arms. “Fuck me for not wanting to share pictures of my breakfast with people who don’t give a shit. And that’s not even true; I changed my profile picture like two months ago.”

“That picture of you at the gym? A hundred bucks he’s already masturbated to it,” Sean said.

“ Shut up ,” Jonah hissed. “He’s just a friend.”

Isabel rested her chin in her hand. “He’s all alone, poor thing. You should go rescue him.”

“He doesn’t need rescuing ,” Jonah said a little too fast.

Sean’s buzzed head invaded Jonah’s personal space again. Already balding— and graying—in his early twenties, he truly hadn’t won the genetics lottery. “Then why is he constantly looking at you?” he asked.

“He’s not —”

He was.

Jonah sighed. “He came here with someone I’d rather avoid. It’s complicated.”

“Then just lure him away,” Isabel said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. She took a bag of chips out of her giant purse and started shoveling them into her mouth. “He clearly wants to talk to you. Is he of the shy type?”

Jonah hated talking about his personal life, but Isabel always managed to trick him into doing it anyway. He rarely regretted it, though; she gave surprisingly good advice for someone who’d never been in a relationship once in her life. “Yeah. I think he is.”

Isabel nodded pensively while she munched on her salty, greasy, deep-fried slices of carbs, a mischievous spark dancing in her brown eyes. “Sean?”

Sean whipped his head in her direction and they exchanged one of those looks that never failed to freak Jonah out a little. Sean and Isabel were like twins, even though they didn’t have a single relative in common. Jonah knew that for a fact because he’d checked one of those ancestry websites at one point after he witnessed what could have only been described as telepathy.

They nodded at each other, making Jonah’s apprehension skyrocket. They both snatched one of his hands and gave it a hearty lick before getting up and walking away, leaving Jonah staring at his hands in shock—and grossed out.

What the fucking hell?

Jonah sprang to his feet and rushed to the bathroom, while making sure to keep his hands at a safe distance from the rest of his body.

Why was he friends with those two pests again?

He washed his hands thoroughly while he looked at himself in the mirror. He combed his hair with his wet fingers, giving himself his favored slightly disheveled look, then sighed as realization set in.

Isabel had set a trap.

Alan would look their way and find the table empty, leading him to believe Jonah had left without so much as a goodbye. It was up to Jonah to intercept Alan now, before he walked out the door, thinking Jonah had no desire to talk to him. The situation was entirely in his hands. He had no choice but to make a decision.

Fucking Isabel.

How she managed to simultaneously be the stupidest and the smartest person in his life, he had no idea. Those two defied every single fact Jonah thought he knew about human psychology.

Jonah groaned. What would he even say to Alan? Jonah hated small talk, but with all the texts they’d exchanged in the past few days, Alan would certainly have some expectations regarding his conversational skills.

No matter , Jonah told himself as he dried his hands. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom like a coward just because he didn’t like discussing the weather. Letting Alan believe he’d left without telling him goodbye was the surest way of disappointing him. In comparison, boring Alan to death seemed like the ideal scenario.

Jonah exited the bathroom and immediately spotted Alan, who was heading his way. “Hey.”

Apparently, Alan hadn’t seen him, as he startled and spilled his drink on himself.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

There was an upside to having ruined Alan’s night, Jonah figured bitterly. He’d just set the bar real fucking low for whatever happened next.

Alan looked down at his T-shirt, which now had a huge, purplish stain. “It’s okay,” he said with a chuckle. “I was going home anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“By yourself?” Jonah blurted out.

Shit. He’d done it again. There was no way Alan wouldn’t soon start questioning his apparent obsession with not letting him walk back home by himself.

Shit. Alan was looking at him funny.

“I mean uh, I can give you a ride home, so you don’t have to walk all the way like that,” Jonah said, gesturing at his shirt.

“Didn’t you want to stay here with your friends?”

“I’d rather not,” Jonah said, jerking his chin in Eric’s direction. He truly didn’t give a shit, but Eric’s shameless make-out session was giving him a good excuse for suddenly wanting to leave.

Alan looked at Eric and gasped.

“I don’t care,” Jonah said, faking a tone of voice that suggested the opposite. “Doesn’t mean I want to stay and watch, though. What were you drinking anyway?” he added when Alan turned back around. “Grape juice?”

“Grape juice and amaretto. It’s really good, wanna try? ”

The way Alan held out his cup without even a split second of hesitation made Jonah smile. He was almost tempted to pretend to take a sip, but decided otherwise. He would rather not lie to Alan, he deserved better. “Thanks, but I don’t drink. I don’t judge people who do, though!”

“Yeah, I don’t really like drinking either,” Alan said, his excitement completely gone.

Jonah frowned as he watched him dump his cup into a nearby trash can. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut and taken a damn sip. It wasn’t like it would have killed him or anything.But it was too late now. “So, should we head out? I have a clean hoodie in my car I can lend you.”

Alan’s face lit up with a stunning smile. “You’re the best.”

“Just how much did you drink?” Jonah teased as he willed for his heart to stop doing what it was doing.

Alan raised two fingers. “Two and a half. But you were already the best before I drank,” he said, jabbing his index finger at Jonah’s chest.

Jonah was amused by Alan’s unrestrained enthusiasm. He was of the happy drunk sort, it seemed, just like Isabel—but less annoying. “Let’s get you home.”

Jonah had expected Alan to be chatty, especially after a few drinks, but silence followed them on their way to his car. It was okay, though; silence wasn’t inherently bad if both parties were comfortable with it. Alan did seem to be enjoying himself, judging by the size of his smile, which Jonah couldn’t help stealing glances at.

Alan hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t like drinking. His alcohol tolerance was seemingly nonexistent. He could barely walk straight.

Jonah kept a furtive eye on him just in case, but something didn’t feel right and he couldn’t put his finger on it. When they finally reached his car, it hit him; Alan had been repeatedly making the exact same awkward movement.

He’s limping.

A surge of anger seized Jonah at the realization. How the fuck could Eric get shitfaced and force Alan to walk all the way back home, knowing he was injured? Couldn’t he pull his head out of his ass for just one second, and pay attention to something apart from his dick?

Alan’s smile fell, as though Jonah had been thinking out loud.Had he been thinking out loud?

“You alright?” Jonah asked.

Alan’s smile returned. “Yeah. Rough week. I’m a little tired.”

It didn’t fool Jonah—‘I’m just tired’ was the most overused fake excuse—but he let it slide. They didn’t know each other nearly enough for him to pry. Still, he was glad he got to bring Alan back home safely.

Jonah popped open the trunk of his car and took out his hoodie from his gym bag. “Here.”

Alan took off his shirt and wiped his chest with it, then carelessly dropped it on the ground and put on Jonah’s sweatshirt. It looked gigantic on him, and Jonah felt his heart simultaneously melt and explode at the sight. He huffed a nervous laugh as he tried to tame the unexpected effect it was having on him. “It could fit two of you.”

Alan’s cheerfulness dimmed. “Yeah, I’m not…very imposing.”

Shit.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Jonah said, feeling a familiar pang in his stomach that forced him to look away. “But uh, if it’s something that troubles you, you could, you know, take self-defense classes or something.”

“Self-defense?”

Jonah shrugged. “You never know.”

“Yeah…that’s probably a good idea.”

Jonah was both relieved by Alan’s response, and annoyed with himself. Why was he so obsessed with Alan’s safety? They barely knew each other, and he had no reason—

“I’m pretty sure if I got attacked, I’d curl up into a ball and cry.”

———

Jonah stepped out of his car and took a deep breath. The air smelled of a fast-approaching storm—humid and fresh, as he liked it. A perfect way to end such a taxing day.

He leaned against his car under the soft glow of their porch light and closed his eyes as he took a moment to relax and listen to the cricket-infused silence. It was pure bliss after two hours spent in a packed, noisy, smelly place.

Jonah took out his phone to check the notifications he’d recently received. They were from the Lovable Dorks group chat, in which Jonah found a picture of Alan jabbing his finger at Jonah’s chest with a big smile on his face .

? Isabel: Yay! My plan totally worked!

? Sean: someones getting laid tonite

Jonah let out an exasperated groan as he typed.

? Jonah: I already told you, he’s just a friend!!

? Sean: ( ?° ?? ?°)

Jonah took a selfie of himself flipping Sean off, then muted the chat for an hour.

He opened his conversation with Alan, feeling a jolt of embarrassment as he was greeted by the image of a chicken breast with a side of grilled veggies. He didn’t know what came over him; taking pictures of meals was something attention-seeking losers did— not him.

At least he didn’t post it on his account for everyone to see.

? Alan Thomas: It looks so yummy! I’m having instant noodles :(

Jonah was dying to get his own place, but the penniless student lifestyle was a major deterrent. Not that he had expensive tastes—or at least, not anymore. The only stupid purchase he allowed himself was his coffee and omelet sandwich a few mornings a week because it made his workdays slightly less shitty.

He was saving a lot of money by not having to pay for rent, so the reasonable thing to do was to stay with his mom until he was done with university. It would be a pain in the ass, but he would always have fresh vegetables in the fridge, at least.

Jonah stared at his keyboard for a moment. He felt the need to say something, but what?

Hope you won’t be too hungover tomorrow—

Will you be at the café on Monday—

I noticed you were limping—

? Jonah Delamare: It was nice seeing you.

Jonah put his phone into his pocket and grabbed Alan’s T-shirt from the trunk of his car. The moment of bliss was over. It started to rain.

Jonah made his way toward the basement door. The separate entrance helped make living with his mom more bearable. It allowed him some semblance of privacy, and prevented him from waking her up when he came back late at night. The basement was almost like an apartment, really. The only thing he lacked was a kitchen.

Jonah went to the laundry room and put Alan’s T-shirt in the sink. He would let it soak overnight and take care of it in the morning; he was too tired now. He took out his phone as he made his way toward his bedroom, and smiled as a new text came in.

? Alan Thomas: It was nice seeing you too. Good night!

Jonah threw his phone on his bed, then undressed and joined it with a sigh of satisfaction. He was spent, but he didn’t regret going to the party after all. Especially knowing that Alan would have had to walk all the way back home with a limp if…

Jonah’s eyes widened. He opened the Lovable Dorks group chat and expanded the picture Isabel had taken of them, then zoomed in on Alan’s face.

How fucking stupid could Jonah be? Alan would not have had to walk back home with a limp if Jonah hadn’t attended the party…because Alan would have stayed at home .

? Sean: u know im right

Jonah hated to admit it, but Sean had been right. Well, except for the part about Alan masturbating to his picture. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d do that. Alan was definitely looking for more than friendship, though, that much was obvious now.

Jonah scrolled through his chat history and opened his conversation with Isabel.

? Jonah :I think I misled him

? Isabel: Surely you’re joking?

? Jonah :What’s that supposed to mean?

? Isabel: Jonah, I love you, but you’re so dense sometimes.

? Jonah: Well fuck you too

? Isabel: When was the last time you willingly sacrificed your own comfort for someone else?

Jonah huffed at the screen. Was putting himself first a bad thing now? Did he have to let the whole world trample on his well-being just because it was the socially acceptable thing to do? And to what end? People had to learn to rely on themselves instead of depending on—

? Isabel: Get off your high horse. I meant you’re doing it for him.

Jonah deflated. When had those two idiots gotten so damn observant? They’d clearly made a pact with the devil in exchange for telepathic powers, there was no other explanation. Isabel was right, though, and now Jonah didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t supposed to happen—how could he fail so miserably at finding a fuck buddy?

? Jonah: I don’t think I’m ready

? Isabel: Then tell him you want to take things slow. But for the love of god, please don’t push him away.

Jonah dropped his phone on top of his bed and let out a long sigh. Talking to Isabel had been a bad idea. She would never let it go. She was nothing if not persistent, and soon, Sean would join forces with her and they’d be on Jonah’s case twenty-four-seven. It would be a nightmare.

Maybe it was time Jonah found new friends. Or maybe he could just move to France and leave it all behind.

Jonah let out a frustrated groan when he felt his phone vibrate—he’d forgotten to mute his conversation with Isabel. He snatched it to do just that, but his irritation evaporated as soon as he looked at the screen. He was subscribed to Alan’s fanfiction account and had just gotten an email saying he posted a new story.

Maybe I shouldn’t be reading his stuff anymore , Jonah thought, as he opened the email. He’d gotten attached far too fast. He had to take a step back and think—

The story was titled ‘The Wallet Incident’.

They didn’t have wallets in that universe.

Jonah followed the link, his curiosity getting the better of him. He read the opening scene, his eyes widening when he saw that the story was based on what happened on Saturday…but with a notable divergence.

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

Jonah slapped his free hand across his gaping mouth as he skipped a few paragraphs to read further.

John’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.”

“Please, doctor,” Alain said as he gave him a seductive look, “administer your treatment.”

Jonah kept reading, his wide eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled. He had to stop now. It wasn’t too late to turn back. Why wasn’t he stopping?

Alain pulled him down onto his bed—

—firm and strong—

—hung like a—

—wrapped his lips around his—

—swallowed every last drop.

Jonah had failed miserably. It was too late now. He was in deep, deep shit.