“Hey! Hope work went well. Miss you. Call me. :)” From a contact saved as “<3”. His name was Merikh. He was a tall Greek and Slavic man that Blithe had known since high school. He was my first love. Whether or not Merikh felt the same was confusing, however. He was not openly queer but was a lot more friendly with me than he was his other friends. We held hands, hugged, etc. But he never did these things with his other friends.

It was best if I stayed on my own anyway. There was no way I could comfortably love someone and care for them with the job I have. It would be irresponsible and far too dangerous for Merikh if I tried to bring him deeper into my life.

Was it really though? Maybe I’m just telling myself these things because I’m scared. Merikh is the only person I’ve ever been nervous around. Him and that smile. Such a distraction.

“Sure, let me finish cleaning up.” I typed out and sent back, tucking my phone back into my pocket and running my hands through my long dark hair to swipe it from my face.

Stepping away from the counter I stretched my arms above my head and scratched my jawline gently. Merikh’s eyes always had this puppy look to them when he looked at me. The way the Dark brown irises, tan skin, and bright white eyes contrasted from each other just took a bit of my soul to comprehend.

I made my way to the kitchen to finish some dishes before I invited Merikh over. I knew “can we call” was just a code word for “pls invite me over”. I knew, and he found it rather charming. Every time Merikh texted those words, about 10 minutes later I would say “Wanna come hangout?” I always asked, Merikh always came.

I worked on the dishes for about 5 minutes before the minimal plates, cutlery, and mugs I used had been cleaned and set aside to dry. I pulled my phone out to send off Merikh’s obligatory invite over. Give him 10 minutes, and he’ll be knocking at my door.

I opened the fridge to make certain some of his preferred drinks were here, and then I sat upon the counter to wait.

A soft rap came at the door, and the door handle clicked open before I could approach. Merikh’s stalky and dense figure filled the door frame as he entered. I hopped off the counter as soon as I heard his knock; opening the fridge to grab him and I drinks.

“Hallo Merikh.” I called out behind myself as I twisted open the drink for him. My burner phone buzzed softly in my pocket. I ignored it. I handed him the drink and gave him a gentle side hug, something friendly, but still a big step for myself.

He dropped his iconic duffle bag and it hit my wood floor with a thud. He always brought a nighttime bag because he never knew if it would be a day where he could handle his alcohol or not. His sad little alcohol tolerance was never predictable.

I plopped myself down onto the couch in my spot, kicking my feet up onto the table.

“Hannibal?” I asked as I picked up the remote, turning on the usual show we watched when he was over. Merikh soon plopped himself down next to me, his drink in hand.

I leaned against his side as the show babbled in the background. I didn’t always pay the closest of attention, however Merikh was always lost in the episodes.

My burner phone buzzed again, and I decided to step away. I stood and set my drink on the table, further stepping off into the bathroom. I pulled the phone out; news articles had been sent to me regarding the man I had taken care of earlier.

“Former schoolteacher found deceased in abandoned park. Police say his death was not an accident.” I scrolled through the article, reading the details I already knew about before setting the burner onto the bathroom counter. It was all working out as intended.

I washed my hands again, no real reason to other than cover up. I tucked the phone back into my pocket and returned to the couch with Merikh. I settled myself back into his side, and we continued watching our episode.

During an ad break, I saw that Merikh had finished his drink, so I got up and grabbed him another, opening it as I made my way back to the couch. He always got hot when he drank and ended up sitting in a tank top and shorts. I waited for him to strip off the black hoodie he had on so I could steal it. I always got really cold when I drank, but then again, my tolerance is really high, and it would take me more than a case of what I was drinking to get tipsy.
As the show continued, I found myself more and more interested in the episode. Something about the specific episode just kept me hooked. The only disturbance of my gaze was when Merikh shifted to pull of his hoodie and set it aside.

Once it was mindlessly draped over the arm of the couch, I made my move. Throwing myself over him and snatching the hoodie in a swift movement. It was on me in a second. It wasn’t too long; we were the same height. The space in it was what I enjoyed. He could find clothes that were meant for bigger guys and holy moly they were so much more comfortable. Merikh was a bigger guy himself. Although we shared height, he carried about twice my weight. He wasn’t fat or anything, just burly.

His clothes were nice to sleep in because my house never had the heat on. In the winter, it was cold enough I’d find myself shivering at night. Now you may think, “Oh but you make so much money from the jobs you do.” I make plenty, I just don’t think I could let this house go.

I grew up in this neighborhood. Mom and Dad worked their butts off to get this sad little house, and honestly, I love it. It’s been my home for as long as I can remember. I’m saving the money to remodel the place, and I’ve saved over half of what I need. The hope is to get myself started on the renovations within the next year. Hopefully then the central heating and air will cooperate with me.

* * *

The episode ended and Merikh was 4 drinks in. He was sweating bullets and swaying in his seat. I glanced over at him and tilted my head teasingly.

“Doing alright buddy?” I remarked snarkily. His flushed cheeks and loose expression returned the snarkiness.

“Doing smitten, mein junge”1 He chuckled softly and mocked my accent. He went to stand, stumbling over his own feet and the table I had my own drink on.

“Down boy down!” I laughed as he stumbled around. He finally settled against the counter next to my stove with a soft huff.

“Pizza?” He asked quietly, looking lazily over his shoulder towards me.

“Ja, sure. Pizza.” I pulled out my burner phone by accident, quickly stuffing it back into my pocket before pulling out my cell. I used an app and ordered a pizza. I knew Merikh saw my burner, but he always refused to intrude so I knew he wouldn’t ask.

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and crossed my arms over my chest, leaning against part of the counter adjacent to him and looking at his half lidden expression. I shook my head and chuckled softly. “Go sit back down, Merikh.”

"Mein Junge" = "My boy"