He panted for breath. In all of the fantasies, he hadn’t ever imagined it being quite this sweaty.

He didn’t even have his breath before Nate was kissing him again, pushing him down against the bed. His hand ran through the thin line of Nate’s chest hair. Nate smelled so good. No products really dominated, there wasn’t a heavy sweat smell. It was just Nate.

Tristan broke the kiss, panting for breath again. Nate leaned in to kiss him again, and Tristan had to pull his head back. “I’m out of breath. Give me a second. What got into you?”

“I missed you.” Nate’s fingers stroked Tristan’s hair.

Those words made Tristan choke up just a bit, which didn’t help with the fact that he’d barely had a chance to breathe.

Nate bit his lip, then reached down for the button of Tristan’s jeans.

A reversal of months ago.

Tristan helped with the removal of the jeans. He kicked them off.

The moment was very still. He felt Nate’s hand.

Nate leaned in close, kissing him. The hand moved to Tristan’s neck, instead.

“Sorry,” Tristan said, as the kiss broke.

“No pressure.”

“I can’t.”

“No worries,” Nate said. “It’s been a har—a tough few months.”

“It doesn’t feel right, I think. That’s why—”

“Shh. What would feel right?”

“It sounds lame, but… can we just hold each other?”

“Anytime,” Nate whispered, stroking Tristan’s hair. “Always.”

⊙

Day 60

Tristan knocked.

“Tristan! Come in. Please. Sit.”

Tristan obeyed, entering Dr. Wall’s office, shutting the door firmly behind him, then seating himself on the couch. Such a cliché, that there was an actual couch.

“I know we didn’t make an appointment.”

“My door is always open, provided I’m not already talking to someone.”

Tristan nodded. The fingers on his right hand trembled. He seized them with the fingers of his left, and the nervousness seemed to multiply. His two clasped hands trembled together. He unclasped them, and he smoothed down the lap of his pants before gripping his knees.

“What’s on your mind, Tristan?”

“Everything,” Tristan said.

“Well, that will only take about ten billion years to the twelfth power to get through. Do you have the secret of immortality? Or do you want to narrow it down some?”

It was said in a joking tone, but Tristan didn’t feel much like laughing.

“I did it,” Tristan said. He looked at the therapist.

“What?”

“I killed my brother.”

Dr. Wall nodded.

“Maybe you misheard me? I said—”

“I heard what you said. I’ve been expecting this visit for a while.”

Tristan shivered, whole-body.