Patience

Jonathan watched him carefully as he sat alone on the beach. He had on a light tan sweater that protected against the cool ocean breeze. The wind blew his hair in and around his face as he stared out into the restless waves. He had his knees drawn up, ankles crossed, his arms wrapped around his legs. He'd been out on the beach for over an hour. He needed time to think and Jonathan allowed him that privy. Sighing, he took a swing of the amber ale from the dark brown bottle in his hand.

He wanted to go out to him, but he was hesitant to interrupt. He sighed again, the decision made, set the bottle on the deck table, and began walking toward where the water met the sand. Jonathan sat behind him, his long legs bent at the knees, entrapping his love entirely as his arms followed around his middle. Mayson, having known Jonathan was there long before he sat down, smiled at the contact. Normally, he'd have shied away from the touches, from the affection, but he leaned back into Jonathan's chest, his arms winding around Jonathan's at his center. Jonathan smiled and kissed the side of his neck, resting his chin on Mayson's left shoulder.

"Hi," Jonathan said.

Mayson smiled. "Hi."

"I got lonely. But I can go back to the house if you wanna be alone still."

Mayson shook his head, his breath catching at the sound of Jonathan's low rumbling voice in his ear. Suddenly at the thought of his arms no longer around him, Mayson tensed and tightened his hold, his fingers digging into the skin of Jonathan's forearms. It was a foreign feeling, this want of touch. Not feeling afraid constantly.

"Sh, Sh, my love. I'll be here as long as you need me."

Mayson found himself beginning to relax at this place and around Jonathan more than he'd ever had before. It both terrified and exhilarated him, these new feelings. If he were honest with himself, he'd always felt this way with Jonathan. He remembered the day they met. The day he began falling in love.

Jonathan looked up as the front door opened. He'd heard there was a new kid coming to the home and hadn't given it much thought. He was never in one place long and made a rule not to get too close to anyone. Though he'd now been here three years, he never got too close, knowing one of them would soon be gone. That's how the system went. But now he was transfixed as the boy appeared before him. He was covered in bruises, too thin, and terrified.

Mayson looked around this strange place. Everything had happened so fast, his ending up at this strange home with strange people. He hugged himself tightly, the bruises protesting against his grip. He looked around as much as he dared without raising his head. Not allowed. Don't make eye contact. Don't speak. Don't touch. His eyes scanned over the room landing on a boy who was watching him intently with a mixture of emotions written clearly on his face. It scared him that he wasn't scared of this strange boy. He jumped away from the hand that landed on his shoulder, a shriek of fear emitting from his diaphragm as he dropped to the floor.

Jonathan watched as he curled up into a small ball and crawled backward under a table. The look in his eyes was feral and beyond any fear Jonathan had ever seen. He wasn't even this bad at his first home, and that was no easy feat. For him or the family, he was placed with.

The woman of the house, Mrs. Scully, was a nice lady in her mid-thirties with light brown hair and eyes to match. They reminded him of liquid amber. She tried, to her great failure, to calm the boy down. She was not told he had an aversion to touch, or much of anything. He was an emergency case that needed placement immediately, with little-known details other than the obvious.

"Mamma Scully?" The woman looked to her right where Jonathan sat at the kitchen table, just to the left of the front door. "Do you mind if I try?" 

She smiled kindly. "Baby, if you think you can calm him down, please. The last thing I want is the poor thing to be afraid here, too. I'll leave you to it. He might respond better without my hovering."

Jonathan watched her go into the kitchen. It was approaching dinner time and there was another mouth to feed. Jonathan smiled. She was a great cook.

Jonathan sat slowly on the floor before lying flat, slowly army crawling over to where the boy sat hunched under a long-legged in-table used to keep a bowl where the house keys go.

Jonathan smiled and waved, wiggling his fingers. The boy glanced up before quickly averting his eyes.

"Hi. I'm Jonathan. What's your name?" He waited a moment for a reply but continued when none was received. "Listen, I know you're really scared. I was, too, when I went to my first placement. But Mamma Scully is really nice. She doesn't even yell...not even a little bit...crazy, huh?" Jonathan smiled inwardly. He had the boy's attention and the whimpering died down significantly. "Mamma Scully, that's what I call her cause it makes her laugh, she's the greatest lady I've ever known. She's making dinner right now. We usually sit at the table, and you're more than welcome to sit down with us. You're part of our family now. But if you feel safer right there, I can bring you your plate when it's ready."

Mayson almost smiled but he caught himself. Food. It was almost too good to be true. He glanced toward the kitchen when the smells hit him, making his mouth water. He looked at Jonathan when he spoke but quickly looked away.

"Yeah, that's for you, too. You can eat whenever you're hungry. No punishments." He paused a moment, frowning. "I, uh, have to go to the bathroom. You gonna be okay here a second?"

Mayson's eyes filled with tears at his words. He didn't want to be alone. But he couldn't say that. He couldn't say anything.

Jonathan's eyes softened. "Hey, it'll be okay. Look," he turned and pointed to the hallway behind him. "The first door on the right. That's the bathroom. Be back in two seconds."

Mayson watched the door Jonathan had gone behind silently begging him to come back. He did moments later and when he sat back down, Mayson let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding.

"See? Told you I'd come right back." He smiled gently. "You wanna try coming out from under there? Only if you want to. You won't be forced into anything here." Mayson met his eyes hearing the double meaning behind the words. He bit his lip. "Want to try?" Jonathan slowly extended his hand out in an attempt to not scare him. His palm and fingers were pointed downward, his fist lose. Mayson watched, jumping back slightly in reflex. "I won't hurt you." The words were whispered sadly. Mayson dared to look into his eyes and saw a familiar pain. He reached out and took his hand.

Jonathan kept a loose grip as he helped Mayson out from under the table.

"There ya go. Much more spacious out here, huh?" Jonathan chuckled at his own wit. When they were both standing, Mayson latched onto Jonathan's arm, wrapping his arms around it like a security blanket.

"You're safe here."

Mayson took those words to heart. For some reason, he knew he could trust those words. And the person who spoke them. He knew as he clutched Jonathan's arm within his arms, he was safe.

"I've just been thinking, is all," Mayson told him as he watched the waves. He was warm with Jonathan wrapped around him. Warm inside and out. He was completely relaxed, safe, and he never wanted the feeling to end.

"Yeah? About what?" Jonathan kissed his shoulder, nuzzling the space by his neck. He smiled at Mayson's reactions.

"Aren't we nosy?"

Jonathan chuckled and the sound was doing things that Mayson would rather not think about. He'd long ago come to terms with his attraction to men, Jonathan in particular, but the thought of sex made him want to hide. Sex had never been for his benefit. Only what he could bring to the other party.

He'd imagined many times how it would be with his best friend. His only friend. His past taught him you can't trust anyone. People only want from you what they can take, then they'll toss you out like yesterday's garbage. But not Jonathan. He knew somehow that Jonathan would be gentle and giving. But Jonathan's hands or not, he was terrified that they wouldn't be his hands for long.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jonathan's voice cut through his darkening thoughts.

Mayson shook his head as if to clear his mind like a dog shakes water from its fur. "N-nothing. Earlier...before you came out...I was thinking about you."

Jonathan turned his head slightly to see his face. He was blushing fiercely and smiling. He wouldn't look at him, his eyes fixed distinctly on the water. "Oh, yeah? What about me?"

Mayson heard the laughter in his voice. He was happy.

He shrugged. "Just...you. Everything you've done for me." He paused. "No one has ever...shown me any real affection. I've never known what love is. My mother, she..." He swallowed visibly and scooted back further into Jonathan's chest, who in turn tightened his hold a bit.

"Sh-she...she would come into my room after my dad passed out drunk and...Sh-she, she...wh-when she was done she would say she loved me."

Jonathan watched a tear fall from his eye and slowly make its way down his cheek.

"That and my dad's fists were the first introductions of love I knew. And every one after that...my whole life...was the same. Except you. And..." he paused again and took a deep breath before continuing. "And you have no idea how much that scares me, Jonny. And with as much as I..." He laughed, but it was far from jovial. "With as much I love you, I'm scared that I'd drive you away. I'm...not...good enough. I'll never be good enough...and I'm scared that you'll eventually figure that out...and..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. He turned his head into Jonathan's shoulder, who started rocking gently.

"Easy, my love. You, Mayson Alexander, are the most beautiful man I've ever seen. Beautiful inside and out. You've got a caring soul and such a big heart."

"My heart...what's left of it is scarred and cauterized. I'll never understand what you want to do with it if it's not to finish what was started."

Jonathan kept up the soothing movement. "This. This right here, my little duck." He kissed Mayson's arm before continuing. "Love isn't always about sex. Love isn't about violence, or being in control or fear. It's about this. Comfort when you're upset. Arms to be held in when you're scared. To be shown all the things within yourself that you can't see."

"I'm scared, Jon."

"Of me?"

He shook his head. "No. Never of you. I'm just scared. I'm scared of love. Of all those things you just named. I'm scared of the prospect that you won't hit me. That...that I wouldn't have to worry about if we argued that you would hit me. That's all I've ever known. And...it scares me." Jonathan didn't say anything, knowing words weren't needed, he just kept up his gentle rocking.  "The truth is...I've loved you since I took your hand when you helped me out from under the table. But I'm not good enough for you...for anyone...so...I never said...an-anything."

Jonathan tightened his grip a bit. "Mayson, can do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Stop saying you're not good enough."

Mayson tightened in his arms and took a breath. "They've all told me that. That I'm not good enough. That I'm only good enough for pleasure to be taken, or to be used as a punching bag. How am I supposed to come to believe that that's not all I'm worth?" He sounded so lost that it broke Jonathan's heart to pieces.

"With love, baby. Patience. Mayson, nothing will happen that you're not ready to happen. I would never do anything to hurt you. I am not after your body. I am not interested in controlling you. I love you. I'm in love with you and all I want...all I want is to love you. To show you what real love is and to keep that smile on your face that lights up every dark corner of my soul."

Mayson smiled shyly. "I can't promise anything, Jonathan. But...show me what love is. Just...promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Be patient with me, Jonny. This isn't going to be easy for me. I'm gonna wanna run sometimes. Don't let me push you away. Don't give up on me."

"Never. You've got me, Mayson. I'm not going anywhere. I won't let you go, either."