shelter_diner | Fic: Healing (Ch. 38) (Reply)

Title: Ch. 38
Characters: Zach, Shaun
Rating: PG13
Notes: I suppose if you've skipped the last two you'd skip this one as well. The tone/style is a little different . . I'm not sure how I feel about it

Zach lay alone, completely under the covers from head to toe. He didn’t want to move or think, he just wanted to stay in bed where it was safe and warm.

But Shaun pulled the blankets from his face and leaned over to kiss his cheek gently. “I know you’re awake,” he said quietly.

They’d just buried her the day before, and Zach had insisted they drive home that night rather than stay in San Pedro or at Shaun’s parents’ place, even though they’d had multiple invitations. He’d had enough of the pity and enough of the sorrowful looks to last him a lifetime, and one more day spent around other people was just too much for him to bear. Somehow he’d been able to keep it together relatively well up until then, going through the motions of their daily lives. But for whatever reason, this morning he did not feel the desire to get out of bed.

Shaun pulled back the covers even further and snuggled into the bed next to him. He was fully dressed and had obviously been up and about for some time.

“You don’t have to get up,” Shaun continued. “Cody and I took Maxy for a walk, and then he asked to hang out with Pete, so I called Saundra and she said she’d watch them for a few hours.”

Zach decided to open his eyes; he was not as good at feigning sleep as Cody was.

Shaun was attempting a grin but could not completely mask his worried expression. “There’s those beautiful eyes,” he said.

Zach summoned only a partial smile in response. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “For not getting up.”

“It’s okay,” Shaun replied, brushing his hand over Zach’s arm. “You’ve been doing really great, taking care of Cody and talking to everyone at the funeral. You’re entitled to a quiet day to yourself.”

“I don’t want to be by myself,” Zach said in a hurry.

“Fine, a quiet day with me,” Shaun laughed. He stroked Zach’s cheek softly.

Shaun had been by his side, every night and every morning, with that same compassionate look and those same gentle hands. The closeness they shared had been a large part of what had enabled Zach to pull himself together and face the world in the days leading up to the funeral. And yet, they had not been intimate since the night before Zach had received the life-altering phone call.

Zach figured that Shaun was keeping his distance out of respect. His sister had just died; he most likely assumed that Zach would not be able to think about such a thing as carnal pleasure. And at first, Zach hadn’t thought about it. He’d been content to rest in Shaun’s arms and feel his heartbeat against his own, gently lulling him into the relief of sleep. But gradually those human needs had crept back in, and now as he stared into Shaun’s eyes he realized he’d gotten to a point where he felt like he couldn’t think of anything else. He longed for that sexual connection, an affirmation of being alive in the face of the undeniable reality of death.

But despite his yearnings, he was unable to initiate anything. He had to admit that Tori’s diagnosis of his ‘condition’ was probably correct; a part of him felt that he didn’t deserve to be experiencing pleasure when others in the world felt only pain.

So he didn’t say anything about what he wished Shaun was doing right then as he continued to look at him. Zach’s lips twitched a little and he bit at them to stop the movement, aware that his expression had become somewhat pained.

“Zach,” Shaun whispered. “Would it be okay if I . . .” He didn’t finished the sentence, but his eyes traveled down the length of Zach’s body meaningfully.

Zach closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath and nodded slowly.

It was a quiet kind of passion, but that didn’t mean the pleasure was in any way diminished. And though he thought he might have felt guilty after release, instead the only thing Zach felt was thankful; thankful that he was alive, thankful that he had a man like Shaun who supported him and continued to give of himself in every way even when he received nothing in return.

He was so grateful, he almost cried. Sensing his vulnerability, Shaun quickly made his way back up to the top of the bed and gathered Zach into his arms. “I know you’re hurting, Zach, but it’ll get better. One day at a time it’ll get better.”

Zach shuddered and Shaun held him tighter. He lay there for several minutes before he realized he was probably taking advantage of Shaun by not reciprocating.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sniffling away some of the uncried tears and attempting to squirm out of Shaun’s embrace to return the favor, even though all he really wanted to do was continue to lie in his warmth.

But Shaun shook his head and kept Zach against his chest. “Don’t worry about me,” Shaun smiled. “I know you don’t have a lot of practice at this, but I just want you to think about yourself right now. And whatever it takes to make you feel happy again, that’s what I’ll be there to do.”

Zach closed his eyes. Again the surge of gratitude coursed his body, giving him nearly as much pleasure as the physical orgasm.

“Thank you,” he said.

***

Grief affects everyone differently. Zach was grateful that, for the time being at least, Cody seemed to take it the best out of all of them. He had the advantage of the resiliency of youth on his side, but both Zach and Shaun knew that his mother’s death would be something he would better understand later in life. He’d been sad, of course, when they’d told him, but somehow the relief that his parents were in fact not splitting up had tempered that sorrow dramatically.

Their holidays had been subdued, but luckily with the new house Cody had found enough pleasure in decorating and having his friends over that he really hadn’t seemed to notice any dearth in celebratory spirit. In the weeks that followed the three of them returned to the routines of school and work, though were it not for Cody, Zach wasn’t sure he could have summoned the strength to act like everything was okay. But somehow the need to make things normal for Cody was stronger than his desire to hide in his room while Shaun comforted him.

He found some solace through his artwork, which took on a more somber tone-- blues and blacks and shades of gray. But as is often the case with art, deep feelings produce memorable works, and his professors’ praise got to the point where they wanted to enter several of his pieces in various shows and competitions. But Zach was not ready to take any profit from his pain and he declined, continuing to use the venue as a place to sort out his own feelings, which Amber and others assured him was part of the healing process.

Shaun took it upon himself to be the rock in all ways in their relationship, and though they continued to be intimate nearly every night, there was still a solemnity to their passion. Zach craved the physical connection with Shaun more than ever, but he felt unable to take charge of that aspect of their relationship. He let Shaun lead, and every time he started to protest that he was taking too much, he was reassured that Shaun was willing to give him anything he needed for as long as he needed it.

***

The first time Zach thought he might be healing was two months after her death.

When he woke up that morning, Jeannie was not the first thing on his mind. He stretched out his hand to turn off the blaring alarm and set it again so that he could drift back to sleep, figuring he had a good twenty minutes before he actually had to get up and get Cody ready for school. Rolling back on his side he pulled the covers up over his head, but in that brief moment of consciousness he remembered that he needed to sign Cody’s permission slip for his upcoming field trip to the zoo. Before drowsiness could consume the thought he groggily got out of bed and padded to the kitchen.

He’d already pulled Cody’s folder out of his backpack and signed the slip before he suddenly remembered Jeannie, and a wave of guilt for forgetting her for those last several minutes washed over him. He froze for a moment in his remorse until Shaun appeared in the hallway, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, did you remember to sign Cody’s permission slip?” he asked with a yawn.

Zach looked down at the paper in his hand, then back up at Shaun, and he found his heart swelling at Shaun’s thoughtfulness. Even in this half-asleep state the man was still looking after his family; keeping track of all the little details that it took to make them work.

And they were still working, Zach realized. It was in that lucid moment that he knew things were going to be okay; he still remembered and missed Jeannie, but he also recognized that he had a family in the here-and-now that he needed to take care of.

Zach put the paper back in the folder and replaced it in the backpack.
”Yeah,” he said, standing up and walking over to Shaun. He lifted his hand and let it brush softly against Shaun’s cheek.

Shaun’s eyes smiled at the touch, and Zach was overcome with the desire to give this man anything and everything he could for the rest of their lives. Even if he wasn’t completely over his “condition” that caused him to doubt he was worthy of happiness, he knew that Shaun and Cody deserved to be happy, and for whatever reason, they would not achieve that without him.

He brought his other hand up to surround Shaun’s face and pressed his lips against him deeply, pushing him back against the wall slightly with the force of it. He only let up from the kiss when he ran out of air.

“What’s the occasion?” Shaun whispered breathlessly when they had finished.

Zach kissed him again. “I love you. I love my family. And . . . I’m happy,” he said.

Shaun’s chest rose and fell rapidly a few times, and he looked for a moment like he might cry. Zach kissed him once more and grabbed his hand at the same time, pulling him down the hallway towards their room. “We have a little bit of time yet,” he grinned.

And Shaun’s smile was the last thing he needed to take before he was ready to give again.

***