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The mall is in fact not a place Christian and Julian typically go and by that they mean ‘haven’t been in almost a decade’, but it’s Black Friday and they’re traveling in a place that happens to have one that’s three stories high with over 1000 stores and two food courts. That sounds like a way to spend a day.
They weave in and out of stores, touching soft fabrics and trying on silly things they’d never wear. Julian buys himself a pair of slacks as apparently cargos aren’t dinner appropriate and when he sees a little stuffed hippo, he buys that too, sneakily hiding it under the pants and planning to present it to Christian later. At 28, he won’t admit it to even his parents, but Christian needs to hold something while he sleeps. And he loves hippos.
They eat orange chicken from one of the Chinese stalls and crispy eggrolls from another. Fries and wings from some place called Chicken Chunk and share a Cinnabon the size of their heads. They laugh and hold their stomachs, unable to believe they packed away so much food, let alone things they haven‘t eaten since they were kids.
“I forgot how good mall food is!” Julian leans back in his chair, gawking at the tall and intricate ceilings, already decorated with massive Christmas balls the size of cars.
“That tangy orange chicken and poorly cooked rice,” Christian smiles nostalgically patting his stomach.
Julian sits up suddenly, empty look in his eyes. “I want to be a kid again. You know maybe just for a day. Or a while…” He leans on the table, eyes far away. “Your parents and mine bringing us to the mall in Ravenscourt during Christmas season, running around all day buying presents to take home and playing in the arcade.” He rests on his elbows and plops his chin in his hands. “Eating in a food court just like this… All of us. Laughing and playing with little toys on the table.”
Christian reaches his hands across the table and grabs Julian’s in his. “We can always go home again. My parents are still there and they’re your parents too. Always.”
“I know, I just-!” Julian shouts and the people near them drop their flimsy forks to look.
He shakes it off and picks up both his and Christian’s empty food containers. “Let’s go find an arcade or something, I’m getting sadder by the minute.”
Christian pushes back his chair and stands up, brushing off his clothes and tucking the noisy chair back under the table. “Sounds fun.”
There’s no arcade to be seen. Not even a carousel.
“What, kids don’t play games anymore?” Julian pouts, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.
“Guess not…” Christian sighs, shifting on his feet at the tingle in his stomach.
“Guess we’ll have to try on more clothes…” Julian spins, looking into the seemingly never-ending building made almost entirely out of glass. “I need to buy you more Christmas presents; wanna split up?”
Christian feels his blood pressure spike at those simple words. He shakes his head quickly, fighting the urge to scoot closer to Julian and burrow in his side. “Not really.”
“Really? You don’t want a full suit for Christmas? Shocker.” Julian grins and Christian does his best to match it but he’s feeling awfully… clingy. And weird. And kind of like he wants to go home.
“Wanna head out? We can find some place else to crash.”
“Um…” Christian looks around and this time does scoot closer.
“You okay?” Julian tilts his head to get a better look at Christian’s face.
He nods.
“Mm, I dunno, you look a little pale. A bit…”
Julian’s voice sounds far off as Christian swallows down a heavy feeling in his chest, crawling up his throat.
“Christian.” Julian says again and his words are warbled, large hand on his shoulder feeling too hot and too heavy.
He tries to shrug it off but the movement doesn’t come through, both his hands going to his stomach. He feels Julian wrap a hand around his bicep and start to walk him presumably to a bathroom, damned man reading him in mere seconds. In his first step he feels his stomach lurch and he lifts one hand to his mouth but it all rushes out his other end.
“Christian?” Julian peeks at him over his shoulder, his handsome face marred with worry.
Christian doesn’t move, he doesn’t dare breathe and he surely doesn’t speak. He curls his fingers into his shirt, tugging on the material as he doesn’t know what else to do; Julian staring, his insides flipping with screeching pain as still, it flows out of him.
He clenches down and in the most sickening realization, his muscles give out completely, a torrent of diarrhea rushing into his jeans with a repulsive, loud gush. The hot mess runs down his legs, soaking through his pants and puddling in his boots.
Christian’s face is a picture of horror. His lips quivering as they hang open, his eyes glossy and pupils shaking, delicate, blond eyebrows yanked together in a furrowed heap. He wants to cry in frustration, he wants to hide in mortification, he wants to scream ‘why, why now, why me?!’
He simply doesn’t breathe.
“Christian…” Julian whispers slowly, scrambling to piece together then line up in order what the hell just happened.
It only takes a moment for people to notice.
“Did that guy just shit himself?!” A man says a bit too loudly.
Two ladies look over and turn toward each other with wide eyes and gracefully ringed hands over their mouths, shushing and whispering. A group of teenagers snicker and slap each other on the arms as they struggle uselessly not to burst up in fits of loud laughter.
Julian is seething. He looks over and sees Christian’s bottom lip quivering. With his heart wrenching, he wants to tell him to ignore these jerks, but already, a flood of tears is running down Christian’s face.
“You all can go fuck yourselves,” he glares into the crowd and grabs his best friend by the hand, hurrying him away.
Julian shoves through people and veers them down a hall, spotting a pair of bathrooms at the end. He slams open the door and drags them inside.
“Anyone in here?” His voice echoes in the dingy, two-stalled dungeon.
Silence.
He flips around and clicks the lock shut.
“You can’t just lock the door!” Christian sobs, his voice wrecked with tears. “What about others?”
“Fuck them,” Julian’s already grabbing handfuls of paper towels in one hand and holding Christian’s hand with the other, towing him along into the large stall.
“Julian-“ Christian gasps.
“It’s okay,” his hands are already on Christian’s button, flicking it open and unzipping his jeans.
Christian shields his face with his hands and sobs deeply, the anguish shaking his body. Julian sweetly quiets him, offering soft words of solace and love. Christian tries to replace Julian’s hands with his own but Julian gently eases Christian’s hands onto his forearms and connects their gazes. Christian quickly looks away.
“Can I help you get them down?”
He expects his best friend to contemplate the question and its every path and how it all affects their outcomes but he’s quickly nodding his head and already pushing down his pants. The thinnest of his mess runs in rivulets down his legs but the rest sticks to his skin like mud. Christian moans in both pain and revulsion at the view of what really happened to him.
“How?!” He wonders out loud.
Julian allows Christian to mumble expletives to himself as he separates a few of the wet paper towels and starts wiping Christian’s thighs. Christian jumps at the feeling and Julian tries his best to quickly clean what he can, tossing the heavy napkins in the small trash can.
“I’m not done-“ Christian panics as his stomach still rumbles and cramps.
“I know. You’ll fly off the seat with your legs like this though.”
He whines and wraps his arms around his stomach, his legs shaking as he holds on to what little decency he has.
“Christian?” Julian peers up quickly, worry streaking his face.
Christian gasps, feeling sweat prickle his scalp. “I can’t hold it.”
He rushes to swat Julian’s hands away before his muscles give out and a mess rushes from his body, spraying the back of the toilet. Christian heaves out a thick sob and hugs his stomach tighter, the sharp convulsions of his insides causing more tears to fall. Julian shushes him gently, enclosing his hands around Christian’s waist and slowly lowering him onto the seat.
“I’m so sorry, Christian,” Julian wraps his arms around the man’s shoulders and hugs him tenderly.
Christian gently shrugs Julian off and hangs his head low.
“Don’t be so shy around me.” Julian sits back on his heels, legs holding him up in a squat. “Please.”
Christian says nothing, bobbing his legs rhythmically with his arms circled around his middle.
“Can I at least rub your belly?” Julian keeps his hands on his own legs.
Christian shrugs.
“I’ll just wait here with you.” He places one rough hand on Christian’s knee.
Christian’s voice is so soft when he says it, Julian has to lean in to hear. “You should just leave me here. Go shop or something.”
“Are you crazy?! Why the fuck would I leave you anywhere?”
Christian shakes his head, sniffling up thick globs of snot. “I’m gross. I need to be alone. Please.”
Julian pulls out a length of toilet paper and winds it around his hand. He reaches up and wipes up Christian’s snotty nose. “I don’t want to shop. Ever. I’m only at the mall because you’re at the mall. We’re here together. So we’re also here,” he motions to the grimy bathroom, “together. Wouldn’t rather be anywhere else and I mean that. I’d rather sit here at your feet and rub your stomach while you shit your brains out than be in fucking France or something. I mean I’d go if it’s with you… It’s all only worth it cause I’m with you.”
Christian dares a small peek through his eyelashes and sees Julian’s smiling face, eyes sparkling with love. “Me too.” He gazes down at their connected hands. “I’m only alive because of you.”
“Go any farther and you might have to propose to me.” He hears the teasing in Julian’s voice.
I would.
In perfectly dreadful timing, his stomach gurgles loudly and a violent surge of diarrhea forces its way from his body.
“I’m so sorry,” Christian pants, hugging himself tighter. “Oh gods…”
Julian combs his fingers through Christian’s damp locks, gently separating little tangles. As he feels Christian relaxing into his touch, he slowly moves his hand down to his stomach and begins lovingly rubbing in circles. Deep rumbles echo through the stall as much as Julian feels them under his palm, the incessant bubbling like a pot boiling over.
For minutes on end, Christian makes a wreck of the toilet and apologizes relentlessly for it, Julian shushing him every time. He rubs his hands up and down Christian’s arms, pressing nimble fingers into his tight shoulders then back down to his stomach, gently kneading into the strained skin.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you. I know this sucks.”
Christian doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even breathe louder than necessary, his miserable huffs for air wheezing out of his nose.
Julian pulls his teary face into his shoulder and gives him a hug.
“I can sue the food court,” he murmurs into Christian’s shirt.
“Oh my fucking god.”
Julian cracks up laughing and rubs a calming hand up and down Christian’s back.
“Is it okay if we go home?” Christian asks meekly, hands balled in his lap, looking almost tiny and delicate.
“Gods- yes, of course,” Julian says as if that was an obvious.
He stands up and brushes off his clothes, clicking open the lock on the stall door. “Let me wet more paper towels.”
“You don’t have to-“
“Shush, Christian, please.” Julian sends a little heart with both his hands to calm the blow of his words.
Julian’s pulls out thick handfuls of napkins and soaks them under the sink, making sure the water feels comfortably warm. He’s wringing out the excess water and peering up at himself in the mirror when the door rattles on its hinges with two heavy pounds that send the metal lock clattering in the frame.
“Busy!” Julian shouts over the water.
“It’s not a family restroom! Open the fucking door!” A deep, angry voice precedes more furious punches against the door, perhaps even a weak kick.
Julian starts making loud retching noises, gagging on nothing. He turns the water back on to really sell the show. After a few moments he stops and assumes the man left.
He strolls back into the stall, paper towels in hand. “What an asshole.”
Christian laughs through tears, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, Julian.”
“All for you,” he ruffles Christian’s sweaty hair and Christian shakes out his locks, the sweat plastering gummy pieces to his cheeks. Julian squats down and pushes them out of his face, looking into Christian’s eyes. “I would do anything for you,” he whispers.
Christian glances up, his pale eyelashes cold and heavy with tears. “Me too.”
Julian smiles and holds up the damp paper towels like a prize. “Ready to clean up?”
Christian rolls his eyes, “I’ve got it.”
He tries to wrestle the makeshift wipes from Julian’s grasp.
“You sure?”
“I can at least wipe myself.”
“Of course.” But Julian’s blush says something else entirely.
“Don’t tell me you wanted to wipe me?” Christian’s scornful eyes nearly cause Julian to go up in smoke. “Like I’m a baby?”
Julian keeps his head firmly down. “I would do anything for you, Christian. I meant that.”
It’s quiet for so long they grow uncomfortable and Julian shoots to his feet suddenly, not once making eye contact with Christian.
“I’m gonna go find you some clothes,” he’s already pushing open the stall door.
“We always have extras of quite literally everything in the car,” Christian reminds him sweetly, feeling in control of this situation for the first time.
“Right,” Julian struggles to shut the metal door between them. “Of course, right.”
“Locks from the inside.”
“Yeah, right, of course,” Julian scuttles away, mumbling.
Christian smiles softly to himself. Then he starts laughing, cackling even, struggling to cover his mouth with the back of his forearm. They may not be lovers, they may not even be blood family, but they’re closer than any human relationship can define. They’re something no one else can understand.