I'll make you a believer
Oh. Oh.
The few few gestures warmed my heart, watching such an easy affection wash over them, as they found their places in the warm early morning against me. Comfort turned to an undercurrent of mild panic as they continued to extend those touching moments, almost threatening to leave me out in the process and I realized why he isn't worried that I'll fall in love with Sam and shut him out again, isn't worried that I want to divide my attentions all the time but also seeks him out, extends invitations without even checking with me first, folding Sam into our nights so easily.
Because Lochlan is in love with Sam.
I don't know if Sam is a life raft in Lochlan's sea of spiritual indecision or a concrete attempt to fill any space Caleb might try and occupy with someone he trusts. I don't know why Ben doesn't take this place as he and Lochlan are always loving and affectionate to a fault, possibly beyond with their grand displays some times and yet this is something different.
It's as if maybe Sam is Lochlan's security blanket. His safe harbour. His own personal Jesus, where Ben carries an air of vulnerability that makes you want to take care of him, in spite of his size and his easy humor in even the scariest of situations.
Maybe it has nothing to do with me, I think as I watch them look into each other's eyes as if they've never seen each before or maybe they have seen each other and they've come back hungry, looking for more.
Maybe it's that I've demanded Lochlan open his mind and accept having his personal space invaded on such a visceral level he's finally embraced it.
But only with Sam.
It makes me wonder if maybe some night I'll come back and my space will be taken, filled in a way I can never hope to fill it. With confidence and strength and righteousness. With a masculine security I seek out too.
But then my fears are smothered by their attention, all on me suddenly, as if they just had to figure out how to coordinate their efforts to bring together the well-practiced midnight choreography I crave so hard it hurts, and my jealousy evaporates in the early morning heat. Now that it's daylight I'm not sure if it really was jealousy after all, or just the usual fear of being left behind that developed at such a young age, imprinting on Lochlan like an orphaned ugly duckling and sticking to him ever since.
Those worries aren't necessary, Lochlan says, bruising his lips against my forehead, hard as ever, stubborn as always. It's just a safe place to get carried away. He winks at me. Lochlan likes to keep his freak flag flying indoors these days, trying to be a standup dad and husband (sometimes both at once with all the wrong people) and keeps his darker side hidden in dark places. Like our room.
I kind of love it. When I'm not scared I'll be replaced.
He laughs gently in the morning light. That's definitely never going to happen.
But what if it already has?