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Cal never expected Garrett would be standing at his front door. It’s one in the morning and pouring out there. There’s a big smile on his face as Cal opened the door like it’s okay to knock somebody’s door at this late. Garrett’s whole body was wet and he’s shivering as if the hinges on his knees were about to break.
"Can I come in?" Garrett begged while hugging his own body to keep it warm. His face was so pale—he’s like the walking dead. Cal stood still instead of saying something. "Uh, hello?”
Garrett’s voice broke his reverie.
"Why are you here?" Cal’s voice was shaking and his eyes couldn’t believe what they saw. Cal wanted to hug him, but his feet wouldn’t move even a step.
"Do you mind if I come over?" Garrett asked again. This time his smile was gone, he looked hurt.
Cal took a deep breath. He shook his head, taking Garrett’s hand and leading him to go inside.
No. Cal didn’t mind at all. His parents weren’t home, so it’s not a big deal. He’s just worried—why did Garrett knock his door at 1 am and get soaked in the rain. There’s a lot of questions hanging on his tongue, but Cal kept them for later.
The jock sat on the couch waiting for Cal to get him towels to dry him off. Garrett kept rubbing his body until Cal came back.
"Are you dumb or what?" Cal grumbled, wrapping a towel around Garrett’s shoulders. It’s not a real question, he’s upset. "It’s one in the morning, Garrett," Cal told him as he dried the blond’s hair with another towel.
Garrett said nothing. He let Cal dried his hair off instead.
Cal was sure there’s something wrong with his boyfriend. He really wanted to throw him tons of questions right now, but he refrained from it. He wanted to make him comfortable first. It’s more important to take care of him who was shivering from cold than his curiosity.
"Change your clothes," Cal said, breaking the silence between them. He stopped drying Garrett’s blond off. "I’ll make you hot cocoa.”
Cal handed Garrett a mug of hot cocoa after Garrett changed his rain-drenched clothes with his sweater that left out at Cal’s a while back. The steam of the hot cocoa warmed his face. He sipped it slowly. The complexion that was pale at first, slowly flushing pink because of the hot cocoa he drank.
"Thank you," Garrett spoke after being silent for minutes. The big smile on his face was back. "It’s tasty.”
Cal just smiled as a reply to Garrett’s gratitude. The blond sipped his drink again. Honestly, Cal felt relieved seeing Garrett’s pale face blushed a little bit. Garrett’s not as cold as he was before, even though he’s still shivering.
"Better?" Garrett nodded to Cal’s question. He gave him a gentle smile. "Do you want another hot cocoa?”
"No, thank you.”
"Do you have something to tell?”
Garrett fell silent. He stopped sipping his cocoa. He gritted his teeth.
Cal was right. Garrett was hiding something from him—he’s not okay. Something happened and Garrett was kind of person who didn't tell anybody what's going on in his head. Garrett liked to comfort others, to be there for them, but when it came to him, he chose to deal with his problem on his own.
"I’m sorry," Garrett said under his breath. He didn’t look Cal in the eyes. "I’m so sorry for bothering you. I should have not knocked at your door, waking you up. I—”
Garrett stopped saying when Cal took his hand and held it tight. Cal rubbed the back of his hand softly. Cal had no idea what to say—he’s not good at comforting someone with words—but he looked at him tenderly as if those eyes told Garrett that he’s here for him.
The bigger boy just sighed. Cal realized that Garrett was trying to show a part of himself which he's been hiding. The person that sat across from Cal wasn't a Garrett who would put his jock persona all the time nor a funny Garrett that made everyone laugh and shake their head at the same time. That's a Garrett whom Cal or probably the rest of the world had never known before. He's quieter than he always was.
One thing Cal hated about Garrett was he always acted like he’s big, happy-go-lucky jovial chap—or worse when he acted like a douche. As if he’s never sad nor getting hurt. He thought he could handle his whole life alone, but he couldn't. Garrett needed help.
"It’s getting late," Cal noted, still holding Garrett’s cold hand. "We have to go bed now.”
"I can sleep in your bathtub," Garrett told as he released Cal’s hand on his.
"No, you can’t." Cal shook his head, getting up from his seat. "You have to sleep next to me. I’ll cuddle you in, okay?”
Garrett just nodded, then following Cal into his bedroom.
Cal covered him up, snuggling into his side to keep him warm. While Cal rested his head against Garrett’s chest, his fingers traced the face of his boyfriend. Cal could hear Garrett’s heart beat slower while his fingers felt the warmth of Garrett’s breath. Cal really wanted to know what happened, but he didn’t know how to ask him.
"Thank you," Garrett’s voice was soft as if he’s whispering. Cal stopped caressing him. He looked up, frowning at Garrett’s sudden statement.
"For what?" Cal inquired.
"For letting me stay here." Garrett exhaled, looking into Cal’s eyes. He ran his fingers through Cal’s bangs. "For taking care of me.”
Cal didn’t say anything—he didn’t know what to say—just staring back at Garrett’s eyes. There’s something Cal realized; those blue eyes which always looked bright, they looked dim as if somebody stole the light in his eyes. Maybe Garrett was good at hiding something, but those eyes told him the truth: he’s in pain.
"What happened?" The question finally came out from Cal’s mouth. Cal wished he could understand him better, so he didn’t have to ask this kind of question.
Garrett didn’t answer the question straightway, he gave a light peck on Cal’s lips instead.
"Don’t worry," he tried to convince Cal, stroking his cheek. "I just had a fight with my father.”
Cal held Garrett’s hand to stop him from stroking his cheek. He found out that Garrett had bruises on his face as Cal stared at him too long. Those bruises looked obscure, but the more Cal paid attention to them, the more obvious they looked.
How couldn’t Cal notice them earlier?
"Your father did this to you?" Cal’s voice shattered the quiet before it, rumbling, trembling, almost dangerous. Rage flowed through him like lava as he kept staring at those bruises on Garrett’s face. "Didn’t he?”
Garrett gave him a blank look. He pretended like he didn’t know what’s Cal talking about, but Cal was sure—he’s really sure—that Garrett did know what Cal meant. He looked away.
"Gar," Cal whimpered, holding his breath. He cupped Garrett’s face and lifted it to make their eyes met. "Stop pretending like everything’s okay. You can’t always carry the burdens on your own. You’re not alone.”
Garrett rested his head on Cal’s shoulder as Cal touched a blue bump on his temple. The bruise must be painful. Cal already knew he’s hurt, but Garrett still pretended he’s not. He didn’t cry nor wince.
“He hates me,” Garrett mumbled, faking a smile to convince him he’s alright. There’s a pity in Cal’s eyes. “But I don’t care, anyway.”
That was a lie. Garrett couldn’t fool Cal twice because behind those words, it’s too obvious he’s hurt.
“How can he hate you?” There’s disbelief in Cal’s voice. For Cal, hating Garrett Laughlin was a load of bullshit. Garrett was one of the best people in his life. And for people hating him, they’re just wasting their time.
“I can’t be all he wants.” Garrett breathed out, moving his head away from Cal. “He thinks he owns me. I mean, yeah, I’m his son, but I’m my own person, right?”
“What does he want?”
“He wants me to stop playing soccer. He always says being an athlete doesn’t have a future. That’s the most ridiculous words I have ever heard!”
Garrett chuckled, but his voice sounded like it was about to break. Cal could feel his anger and disappointment through his eyes. Cal hugged him, caressing his back to calm him down.
“... But I won’t give up on my dream,” Garrett continued as he played with Cal’s hair. “I’ll show him he’s wrong.”
Cal gave him a chaste kiss. He’s proud of his boyfriend yet feeling sorry for him. After all this time Garrett never told anyone about his issue, he finally did. Cal wished he could know this earlier. Cal wanted to be there for Garrett like Garrett always was for him.
Cal kept his head away, he looked up, tracing Garrett’s face again to find other bruises. He found another on his jaw. “How could you get this?”
Garrett sighed. He closed his eyes as if it’s too painful to remember. Cal was a bit sorry for asking, but he’s really curious he couldn’t help.
“My father hit me with his bare fist a couple times.” Cal gave a small cringe as Garrett explained. “He knew about us.”
The silence suddenly filled the atmosphere. The only sound was from rain pouring on Cal’s roof.
Seconds later, Cal felt his stomach twist, his chest was tight, and his blood boiled under his skin. Cal gripped Garrett’s sweater even tight, he felt terribly guilty after knowing what the actual happened to Garrett.
“That’s because of me,” Cal murmured, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of Garrett’s neck. His voice was full of regrets. “I’m so sorry.”
“it’s not your fault,” Garrett declared, rubbing Cal’s back. He stared blankly at the ceiling. “Even if I’m dating a girl or a guy, it doesn’t matter—he will always be mad at me. He’s just an asshole.”
Garrett breathed in the fresh air as if it’s giving him the strength he needed. He added, “Well, I wish he could be a good father, but … I don’t know. He’s never proud of me. He never watches my game—not even once. So, it probably won’t happen.”
Cal didn’t know what to say, so he hugged him tighter in response. Cal sucked at comforting, he wished he could make Garrett felt better. It hurt him seeing Garrett like this.
“Cal?” Garrett whispered, looking down to see Cal—to make sure he’s still awake. The brunette raised his head so their eyes met. “What time is it?”
“Uh, 1:42 AM,” Cal answered as he glanced at the clock on the desk lamp. “Why?”
Garrett let out of a long sigh, instead of replying to Cal. There's a discomforting look on his face. Cal cupped Garrett’s face to ease his worry. Garrett looked down, couldn’t stare Cal in the eyes. He trembled a bit.
“I don’t know where to go when the morning comes,” he said under his breath, closing his eyes like he endured the pain.
“You can stay here.” Cal's voice was small like him and it’s soft, also like him. His fingers stroked Garrett’s bruises gently.
Garrett opened his eyes, wasn’t sure what he heard. So, he asked again, “Can I?”
“You can.” There’s not any doubt the way Cal said it. He moved his fingers from Garrett’s bruises to his hair so he could run them through it. “I’ll take care of you.”
There’s a long pause and for a moment Cal thought Garrett would never respond, but then a warm smile lifted the corners of his mouth as Garrett’s fingers cradled his face, pulling his head closer. Their lips connected in a subtle kiss.
“Cal?” Garrett called his name gently, their eyes were staring at each other.
“Yeah?” Cal responded as he touched Garrett’s chapped lips.
Garrett said nothing but shut his eyes. His breath was slow and his face was peaceful as if the burden on his shoulder was gone. He looked much better than when he stood at his doorstep. Cal couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Garrett slept next to him was like he’d never felt alive before. Cal started closing his eyes as well.
Before Cal fell asleep, he heard something almost like a whisper:
“You feel a lot like home.”