His Tiny Sun

Chapter 27 - Feeling It

CHAPTER 27

Feeling It

Alan exhaled a happy sigh as he put his fork down, then his hand against his stomach. “It was so delicious. Merci 6 !”

Jonah’s mom beamed. “My Jo-Jo didn’t tell me you spoke French!”

“I don’t really,” Alan said with a chuckle. “I only know twenty-three words.”

Jonah smiled. It was just like Alan to know exactly how many words of a new language he’d learned.

“The first twenty-three are the hardest,” she said with a wink. “After that, easy-peasy.”

Jonah leaned close to Alan and stage-whispered into his ear, “She’s lying.”

“How dare you call your mom a liar!” she scolded him, then gave Alan a mock-offended look. “You carry them in your belly for nine whole months looking like a big round patate 7 , and that’s how they choose to thank you!”

Alan looked at Jonah, his smile so big, his eyes had turned into two thin crescents. Jonah loved that face, and the man who was—

“Be right back,” Jonah said as he sprang to his feet, then walked toward the bathroom as naturally as possible.

He closed and locked the door, furious at his palpitating heart. His psychologist had told him that such stray thoughts were nothing to be concerned about—so why couldn’t he stop randomly freaking out already?

Dating was new to him, so naturally, he didn’t yet know how to label many of the emotions he hadn’t felt in five years—or potentially ever. There was nothing wrong with that.

‘What matters is that you’re feeling it.’

Jonah exhaled a deep sigh, then muttered under his breath, “I’m feeling it alright.”

They’d come up with substitute sentences during their last therapy session, in case the ‘L’ word tried to slip out over the weekend.

‘I like spending time with you’

‘I like your smile’

‘I’m happy to have met you’

Even though it had seemed like a good idea at the time, Jonah couldn’t help being uncomfortable; they weren’t the kinds of things he would naturally say.Alan was observant. He obviously already knew something was up—and had been nice enough to pretend he didn’t.

Still, no matter how understanding Alan appeared to be, Jonah would much rather avoid the risk of hurting his feelings.

Anxious as Alan was in general, Jonah presumed his unpredictable behavior was making him at least a little nervous.

Jonah finished pretending to pee, then walked out of the bathroom, only to freeze and grit his teeth as he took in the scene. “ Mom ! Did you really have to?” He should have known that if he left her alone with Alan for two minutes , she’d take out her picture albums.

“You were so cute!” Alan exclaimed as he looked up, giving him a starry-eyed smile.

Jonah groaned in annoyance. Every single time someone was over, she had to take out that album, and show the whole world pictures of when he drew over his own face with a sharpie, and that one time he’d sneaked in her bedroom to play mommy dress-up.

“It’s as big as your head!” Alan enthused, pointing at one of the pictures, in which Jonah’s toddler self was seated in front of a gigantic pile of French toast.

“Jo-Jo has always loved his maman 8 ’s French toast.”

Alan turned the page and gasped. “Aww, look at you! All curled up with your horsie plushie.”

Jonah sighed as he sat back down next to Alan at the kitchen table.

“Can I take a picture?” Alan asked.

“Of the photo?”

“Yeah!”

How could he say no to that face? “Sure. As long as you promise not to show anyone.”

Especially not Eric.

“I promise!” Alan said excitedly as he took his phone from his pocket and opened his camera app.

“He cried so hard when I told him real horsies didn’t know how to talk,” Jonah’s mom said, “he lost his voice for two days.”

Jonah glared at her.

“Aww,” Alan uttered, giving him a mischievous look. “Did little Jo-Jo have a bad temper?”

She huffed. “You have no idea.”

Jonah stood up and started clearing the dirty dishes from the table. He might as well keep himself busy while they teamed up to ridicule him. “Does your mom keep a whole album of humiliating pictures of you too?” he grumbled as he put their plates into the sink.

The deafening silence that followed Jonah’s remark hit him like a ton of bricks. He turned around to look at Alan, finding that he wasn’t smiling anymore.

Shit. You stupid moron.

“Well, um,” Alan began, his voice now small and weak.

“Why don’t you boys go downstairs?” his mom interjected as she stood up. “I’ll call you once dessert is ready.”

Jonah wiped his hands and rushed to Alan’s side, guiding him toward the basement with a heavy heart. He should have known there was a reason Alan never talked about his mom. How much of a self-centered half-wit could Jonah be?

“Sorry,” Alan choked out as soon as they reached the last step.

Jonah fought the urge to shout at Alan to stop apologizing all the time—especially when he was the one who’d gotten hurt. Instead, Jonah pulled him into his arms and held him close, keeping his mouth firmly shut until he could trust himself not to make things worse.

“I didn’t mean—to ruin—our m-meal,” Alan stuttered.

That did it.

“Alan, stop . You ruined nothing. If anything, I did. If I wasn’t so focused on myself all the damn time, I’d have realized that was a stupid thing to ask. ”

“It’s my fault, I should have told you.”

“Shh. Let’s go to my room,” Jonah said, motioning for Alan to lead the way. He closed the door behind them, then sat on the edge of his mattress and spread his arms, his heart sinking at the deep sadness he saw in his tiny sun’s eyes.

Alan dragged his feet closer, the muscles in his neck taut as though he were trying to hold back his tears. Jonah took his hands and gently pulled him closer, guiding him to his lap.

Alan straddled him and sat down on his thighs, resting his head on Jonah’s shoulder as he held him close. Alan felt even smaller than usual in Jonah’s embrace.

“You don’t have to tell me now,” Jonah whispered as softly as he could muster, despite all the anger he felt toward himself. “I won’t ask any more stupid questions.”

Alan took a few deep breaths, then said, “It happened a very long time ago. I’m not usually…it’s just…” He wrapped his arms around Jonah’s torso and squeezed tight. “Your mom…she’s so nice—I…”

Jonah gently rocked him in his arms as Alan wept against his shoulder. How many times had Jonah rubbed in Alan’s face the fact that his own mother was still around, by constantly complaining about her like the ungrateful jerk he was?

It was now Jonah’s turn to wish he could get punched in the face.

“I lost my parents when I was very young,” Alan murmured, as Jonah started rubbing his back. “My uncle raised me, but…he also passed away a few years ago.” He sighed, then straightened up to look into Jonah’s eyes. “But I’m not alone. Eric and Marina are my family now.”

Jonah finally understood why Alan tolerated so much of Eric’s bullshit.

Still not trusting himself to open his mouth, Jonah cupped Alan’s wet cheek and stroked it softly with his thumb, hoping his eyes would do the talking for him. It seemed to work, as Alan’s lips curled into a small smile, just before he leaned close and gave Jonah a soft kiss.

“I—like your smile,” Jonah blurted out awkwardly, his heart brimming with untamed affection that wanted to burst out of his chest.

Alan’s smile widened. He rubbed the tip of his nose against Jonah’s, then pressed their foreheads together. “I like your smile too.”

Jonah exhaled a long breath through his nose as he relaxed. It went much better than he’d anticipated. “We don’t have to go back. We can stay here.”

Alan pulled away, the look in his eyes making it obvious he would rather stay downstairs, but felt awful about it.

“The dessert is ready,” Jonah said. “She just said that to give us a reason to escape. She’ll understand.”

“Are you sure? She’s been so kind and welcoming. I don’t want…”

“I’m sure. She raised a little Jo-Jo with a shitty temper, remember?” Jonah said with a lopsided smile. “How many times a week do you think I had to escape to my room to calm down?”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. I’ll go grab us some dessert. Then we’ll watch a movie or something.”

Alan’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay…but I feel bad about eating her dessert…”

“It’s my dessert. I made it. New York-style cheesecake with a graham cracker crust, fresh strawberries, and homemade strawberry coulis.”

Alan’s face lit up. “And the oven didn’t even explode?”

“Of course not,” Jonah scoffed. “I’m a phenomenal baker, I’ll let you know.” He patted Alan’s hip to prompt him to get up.

Alan stood up, then sat on the edge of Jonah’s mattress. “Please tell her I—”

“—I will,” Jonah interjected, not wanting to hear another one of Alan’s apologies. “Be back in a minute.”

Jonah left his room and climbed the stairs, then made his way to the kitchen, where he found a service tray with two pieces of cake, utensils, and cute napkin origami on the kitchen table.

The fact that he wasn’t surprised about it at all made Jonah realize just how much he’d been taking her for granted.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, as she scooped some tea leaves into their teapot.

Jonah sighed. “No.”

“Poor soul. So young,” she murmured as she filled the kettle with water and turned it on. “I prepared a tray, in case you two prefer staying downstairs.”

Jonah circled the table and pulled her into his arms. “ Je t’aime 9 . ”

She hummed as she hugged him back and stroked his back. “ Je t’aime aussi. 10 ”

They embraced each other until the kettle beeped—longer than Jonah remembered having ever done. She gave him a warm, motherly smile, then proceeded to pour some hot water into the teapot, before putting it on the tray with two cups. “ Va prendre soin de lui. 11 ”

Jonah kissed her forehead, then took the tray and made his way down the stairs, toward his room. He found Alan sitting where he’d left him, his sad face lighting up as soon as their gazes met. Jonah stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring the beautiful man who’d turned his life upside down for the better.

I’m feeling it alright.

“What?” Alan asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Nothing,” Jonah said as he stepped into the room. “I’m just…happy I met you.”