Jonathan Sims

Eliot feels a little bad, squeezing into the backseat with them, but the alternative is unpleasant for several reasons. First, he worries it’d give the impression that the boys are in trouble, or relegated to the back like cargo, and erode the trust they seem to now have in him. Also he couldn’t possibly hold a conversation with Aiden, whether fielding questions or just making small talk as if everything is normal, when he’s far too rattled for that. But more than anything, Eliot simply wants to be close to John and Martin, to provide whatever comfort they might need.

It’s an awkward arrangement, and he especially would never impose on John like this if he was his normal adult self, but the situation as a whole is already so absurd and mortifying that Eliot hopes this little indignity doesn’t register as much as it otherwise might. And when John leans into him from the inertia of a turn in the road and stays there, Eliot feels…gratified in a way he cannot place at first. He looks over to check on Martin, snuggled up on John’s other side, and exchanges a glance with him and smiles, and realizes. They feel like a family.

When the car finally pulls up outside Candlewood Eliot sighs, and clambers out to hold the door for the boys with one hand while opening the Hytch app with the other. “You were an absolute lifesaver,” he says to Aiden with a nod. “I wish you all the best.” He’s getting a five-star rating and Eliot will figure out how to reliably teleport before he risks using a rideshare service again.

The elevator at least is mercifully brief, and once inside the apartment Eliot is quick to gather up the abandoned bags from the deli before John and Martin notice. Their combined mastery of blame-taking would probably set one or both of them crying again, and Eliot can’t let that happen.