21. Arik

Sleeping in each other's buses became our usual. We spent a lot of nights in each other's company. I felt a lot less alone, and I slept more.

Seconds ticked, and Varian didn't move.

I scooted an inch closer and then another until my arm was pressed against him again. My breathing eased, and my heart rate slowed down. I closed my eyes, thinking I could sleep like this.

But his lips found my ear, his hot breath kicking my body back into overdrive and giving me the feeling like I was sneaking around behind my parents' backs in high school. "How can you be okay touching me?"

I turned my head enough to catch his gaze without making him move, speaking into his cheek. "What's wrong with touching?"

"Most dudes would call you a slur for cuddling another guy."

"They can call me a fag if they want to. Fag's not a derogatory term, and it's not a fucking synonym for shitty. I'll call myself a fucking fag if they want to try that shit with me. You already called me out on it, and I don't want to subscribe to this toxic masculinity shit taking over the comments sections on fucking YouTube and Twitter." I don't know where the rant came from, but I wouldn't shy away from a word or even defend myself against it. It wasn't a fucking bad thing.Especially the way I was feeling. My chest heaved and I breathed hard by the time I realized Varian stared. "What?"

His brows rose. "You'll call yourself one? Are you gay?"

"It's not about that…" The thought of a dick had never done it for me—I couldn't do anything about that—but that didn't make me want Varian to touch me any less, and I wasn't ready to admit to what that could have meant.

"Then what is this?" Varian held something back.

I had to come up with a way to explain what was in my head, so he'd get it. "I don't think getting physical affection from a friend means I'm gay. I don't want to live my life based on some bullshit the world told us we have to. This feels good, so why wouldn't I want to do it? Why would I live my life around what other people tell me is right?"

He hesitated before speaking. "Most people see physical affection as having to do with attraction."

"I don't trust a lot of people, and I—" I didn't know how to word it. "I fucking miss it, Varian. I miss being held and touched."

"So why don't you let a girl do that?"

"Who? Let one of the groupies blow me or give me some sort of physical affection? She can't stay on the bus while we travel two hundred miles to our next show. What am I going to do, buy her a plane ticket back? And even if I had the cash for that, I can't even bring myself to let them fuck me." It was the most honest I'd been with anyone since Nicole and I broke up. I didn't want anyone but Varian touching me, but I couldn't say that. "I don't want to… No, I can't date someone. I don't know when I'll be able to again, so what's wrong with it? I trust you. I like when you touch me, but you always stop yourself."

"Are you surprised I stop myself? You've made it pretty clear you're straight. I'm not going to push your boundaries."

"I've never said…" I considered his words and my reaction, searching my feelings before I replied, "It was too soon after her, and anyone touching me made me uncomfortable. The times you've slipped…"

Have been my happiest nights on the tour.

"The times I slipped?" he prompted.

"Felt good. I want more of it," I said it with all the honesty in my chest, hoping he'd believe me.

He rubbed his cheek against mine. "Where are the lines?"

"What lines?" I asked carefully.

"You're not gay. We are best friends. Where is that line?"

"We aren't fucking each other. I think we can have a platonic relationship and have physical touch and comfort." I held my breath, waiting for him to turn me down. I didn't think he was into me anymore. It had been months, and even he'd agreed we were better as friends and that he wouldn't trade that for anything, especially not a hookup.

"That doesn't make it any clearer."

"What do you do with friends?" I asked, lightly placing my hand on the side of his neck.

He turned slightly to better look me in the eyes. "Not this."

"You don't have friends you cuddle with or, like, a girl who lays her head in your lap?"

"Some, maybe. My brother a bit." Varian put his hand over mine. "I need to sleep, and if I'm staying here, I need to text my brother that I won't be there for the bus."

I lingered a moment longer before detangling us.

He sent the text and then stretched. Despite the tiny amount of bunk space, we weren't touching.

I put headphones in and closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but I couldn't stop, thinking about how close he was.

"Neither of us is going to sleep like this."

I opened one eye. "Huh?"

"We are stiff. Barely taking up any room. I am on the edge."

"There is plenty of room between us..." I said, not sure what he was getting at.

He grabbed my arm and dragged me closer, getting more comfortable until we were both sprawled out and half draped over one another. "This is what I meant. Is this what you were looking for?" Varian's words were so defiant.It felt like a trap."Well?" he asked when I didn't answer.

"I thought we were going to sleep?"

"We are. But you're not getting out of answering the question forever."

How could I answer when I didn't know myself?