bsumone | ❝ What am I? ❞

The hardest part about adjusting to Silvio’s house was how quiet it was. Well, maybe not that exactly. It was how different the ambient sounds were. Simon’s always live in urban areas so the sudden change to a much more rural area was jarring, to say the least. He never realized he’d miss traffic noise until there was nothing but bugs and birds screaming into the night.

In spite of the change of scenery and a friend to look after him, Simon still wasn’t doing well. He was getting out of bed once, maybe twice a day – for a meal and a shower, usually. For the most part, Simon stayed holed up in whatever room Silvio plopped him down in after absconding with him.

The worst part? He felt like he owed Silvio an explanation. But how to do that without opening about some things he’d rather not think about? What had not thinking about those tings gotten him? Wasted in some bar and fucking a stranger in some back alley. Not his finest moment, for sure. And then the guilt and self-loathing set in. Wasn’t he better than that? Wasn’t he stronger?

Finally, he shuffled out for breakfast – up and active before 10am? Amazing! Simon’s barefoot in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and a tank top that doesn’t leave much to the imagination when he padded into the kitchen.

“Silvio, can we talk?”

Silvio hadn't been expecting Simon to be up so he was moving around the kitchen wearing only a pair of low hanging sweatpants. Humming a little to himself, he kept sniffing the air and hovering his hand over things to make sure he was cooking them properly. Nothing he made was ever gourmet but he was actually pretty decent in the kitchen. It also helped that Simon never actually asked where the meat and eggs came from, of course.

Hearing Simon behind him, he tilted his head then got the food onto plates to bring to the table rather than his room. He probably could have told his friend that was his bed and he'd taken to sleeping on the couch instead but he hadn't wanted to make him uncomfortable. The guy was already going through a lot.

Waving for him to sit down with him, he pushed one of the plates to him.

"Yeah. What is it?"

Simon’s not about to complain. Silvio’s been nothing but kind in choosing to look after him. It may not be Michelin star level meals, but Simon never expected that. It was tasty and warm and sat well in his stomach even when his appetite was absent. It smelled good which gave him an excuse to close his eyes and breathe it in (instead of staring at his friend’s very nice body).

No, stop. Don’t think like that. That’s what got him in trouble to begin with.

He sank into one of the chairs, eyes fixed on the plate Silvio set in front of him. It took him a moment to compose his thoughts and he sucked in a long breath before he spoke.

“I owe you…” What? An explanation? Wasn’t it just a dumb excuse? “An explanation, at least. That’s going to require some transparency and… It’s not wholly comfortable for me to talk about it. But when it’s done, if you don’t want me here, I’ll understand.”

Silvio didn't agree that he was owed an explanation but he knew that Simon wasn't going to feel okay until he gave one. So he took a bite of food and nodded for him to go on. He was here to listen to him and be there for him. Ever since he met him and started running with him he'd really come to care about him. Like him.

"I'm not throwing you out no matter what you say. But I'll listen."

It took him a moment, in which he shoved some food in his mouth, to sort out where to begin. Some history was needed.

“You remember the time you asked about dancing with me?” Simon’s reaction hadn’t been the best, to say the least. Surely Silvio hasn’t forgotten.

“Um, I guess the best place to start is by saying my family’s very religious. And very conservative. I grew up in the middle of America, in Kansas City. My folks didn’t care much for my interest in dance. They thought it was indicative of a certain, uh, character flaw.”

That’s what they always called it. A character flaw. Something that, with enough self-awareness and discipline, could be corrected.

“Are you familiar with conversion therapy?”

"Yeah." And he'd wait as long as it took for Simon to dance with him too. Tilting his head, he wondered what that had to do with anything, frowning as he listened. What he heard? He really didn't like. A character flaw? What the fuck?

"No. What is it?"

Whatever it was he already hated it.

“Basically, it’s a set of practices to ‘cure’ people of… same-sex attraction.” His voice grew quieter, full of emotions he didn’t often – actually ever – share with others. Not only was it incredibly uncomfortable for Simon to admit he’s gay, but there’s also a lot of bad memories and feelings hanging over his parents’ insistence that he needed to be fixed.

“It was torture,” he muttered oh-so-quietly. “That’s how I spent every summer break for six years…” Six years of being shamed and, for all intents and purposes, abused. Not the most ideal thing for a teenager to have to face. It was so damaging and yet formative.

Simon probably should’ve sought out some legitimate form of therapy to deal with all that… Instead, it led him to a life where he constantly felt ashamed, sometimes disgusted with himself. It sent him into dark patches, times when his depression was so bad he pondered just giving up. That’s gotten worse as the end of this career approached.

Rationally, logically, Simon knew how damaging all that was. Does that change the fact that shame and disgust were drilled into him? Or that he feels weak or that he’s somehow failed if he so much as thinks of another man in a romantic or sexual way? Not at all.

“So… I’m kind of broken, I guess. I’m always afraid and ashamed and… when I get weak, it’s just so much guilt and disgust..”

Silvio had been drinking a cup of coffee and the cup smashed in his hand in his anger over what had been done to him. He was furious that someone could have hurt Simon this badly. This man with his beautiful heart and... It took everything him not to let out a beastly growl and he didn't even noticed the pain in his hand as the ceramic had cut him.

Instead, he closed his eyes to calm himself, drawing his tongue over his lips before opening his eyes again. A deep breath and then he spoke. "You are not broken, Simon. What your family did to you was cruel and the worst thing one could ever do to a child. There is nothing wrong with you liking men. I know you will have to find a way to heal from that but there is nothing wrong with you for falling for who you do."

Reaching across the table with his good hand, he rested it on Simon's arm. "I want to hurt everyone who ever hurt you but I know that won't change the past. All I can do now is support you. I know I'm blind but I don't see weakness in you. I see someone who has survived and is finding his own path to walk on now. And if you want to do that here then I swear I will always protect you. You are not disgusting, you are not weak, you are not broken. You're a man who has a right to be hurt by all you've been through."

Simon started when the cup shattered. He was almost on his feet to get a towel when Silvio began to speak. He stared, still wide-eyed, but listened to everything Silvio had to say. No one’s ever told him there was nothing wrong with him. Possibly because he’s never told anyone there was something wrong with him. He didn’t bring his sexuality or his fraught relationship with it up in casual conversation. Even the rest of his dance troupe didn’t know and they’re the people he spent the most time with.

And on some level, Simon longed to hear that – that he wasn’t something broken that needed to be fixed. It’s hard not to believe it, though, when he’s been programmed since he was thirteen to think there was something horribly wrong with him. Something that made him incompatible with his family and his (their) faith. Simon hasn’t been interested in religion since he left for LA. Why should he be when that’s what made him feel so worthless? When it was drilled into him that God couldn’t love him as he was.

Simon swallowed and slowly rose up to finally get that towel. In addition to the shards of ceramic, he worried whatever coffee was left in the cup may have burned his friend. He moved around to crouch beside Silvio and took his hand to examine it for any injury. “Are you okay?”

"I'm fine." He could smell his own blood but the wound was probably healed already. Being a werewolf definitely had advantages. And as soaked as his hand was? The burns didn't exist anymore since they'd healed first.

Silvio's focus was on his friend. He'd heard the way his heart had shifted when he'd said what he had. Simon had probably needed to hear those words for so long. Letting him clean his bloody hand, he left out a sigh.

"Simon, you deserve to be happy. You're an amazing person with a big heart and so much talent. No one should have ever told you that you're broken or flawed." Reaching out, he cupped his face to encourage him to look at him. To look into his eyes even if Silvio couldn't actually see him.

"You're wonderful. I'm so lucky I've been able to meet and get to know you. Thank you for trusting me with this. I'm going to work harder to make you happy and protect you knowing this."

Needless to say, Simon was surprised to find no cuts or burns. Maybe the blood was from something superficial. Well, that’s a good thing! And the worry for his friend gave him something on which to focus. Something other than his trauma dumping on the guy in an effort to explain why he’d turned into a blanket burrito for several weeks.

Simon blinked at the touch. Though he didn’t pull away, Silvio probably felt the way his instincts told him to wince away. And the way Simon fought them to accept that affection.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” he admitted quietly, looking down. “But… You’ve been so good to me. I felt like… I don’t know, like you deserved to know, but also that I could trust you.”

Silvio felt it but he didn't pull back. He knew that Simon probably craved this affection even if he'd basically been trained to not want it. So he was going to let him have it, let him finally enjoy something he'd been denied for so many years because people were too cruel to accept him for who he was.

"You're a very special person to me, Simon. The fact that you wanted to tell me means a lot but please understand that you never owe me an explanation for anything. As much as I want to understand you better to be there for you and to help you? You don't owe me." He smiled at him and then reached out to gently take the cloth.

"Go eat. I'll go get washed up and clean up the mess I made."

Simon did crave affection. The kind that made his heart beat faster with equal parts hunger and fear. He wanted it so badly but the implications terrified him. It was ingrained in him that it was bad; that the want for it was bad. The he should feel bad for it, feel guilt and disgust for it.

But, oh how he wanted it. After half his life keeping people at arm’s length, he finally let someone in. While he had complicated feelings about that, he couldn’t imagine trying to pull away from Silvio now.

He nodded with a quiet, “Okay.” Almost as soon as he was on his feet, he looked back to Silvio and added, “Thank you. For everything.”

Washing his hands, he came back and cleaned everything up. It was like nothing had ever happened to his hand at all. He was totally fine. Silvio smiled at him when he thanked him then shook his head.

"Thank me by letting me be there for you. That'll be enough for me."

Then he finished cleaning before coming back to sit down again. "So I could feel how tense you got when I touched you before. Is it okay if I touch you more often? Show you that it can be okay to have a friend have contact with you? It was something I did a lot with my family before I lost them. Didn't matter what gender we were, we were constantly having contact and cuddling close."

While Silvio tended to himself and the broken cup, Simon returned to his seat to eat more. He still wasn’t eating much, but something was better than nothing at all. Mostly he moved the food around on the plate between taking bites. It tasted good and eased his hunger quickly.

“You already have been there for me. I appreciate it.”

He paused as Silvio’s question, feeling a little warmth come to his face. He had a feeling that if he got too uncomfortable with anything, Silvio would back off. He’s astute and Simon’s not shy about telling Silvio when he’s uncomfortable.

“I’m willing to try.”

"That's all I ask for."

And he'd back down any time he felt Simon getting too tense. When real discomfort was setting in rather than just being unsure. He smiled warmly at him then had another bite before nodding to Simon's food.

"Try to get a few more bites in. Your body is still recovering from being in bed for so long so you need the extra nutrients."

Simon nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to keep eating. “I can feel my body atrophying. I need to get back into the studio soon.” Which meant commuting back to the city… somehow. Simon knew himself well enough to know he’d get lost trying to navigate these woods on his own.

"I'll take you when you feel up to it. And I can move things out of the living room so you can practice there for now until you do." That way Simon would have the chance to dance if it turned out he could only handle Silvio for the time being. Keep his body in shape and moving well.

“Thanks.” There’s audible warmth in his voice. Silvio’s been nothing but kind and supportive, even before Simon spiraled. He’s never had many close friends, not since childhood, and it actually felt pretty good to have one now. Somehow, after confiding in Silvio, he felt somehow lighter.

Not only was he able to share his past with Silvio, Silvio’s attitude toward him didn’t change. He didn’t find Simon weak for the programming that’s been drilled into him. He certainly didn’t look at him with pity or disgust. He couldn’t, being blind. But his face never showed any sign of either. It was a relief and… Something Simon couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Maybe we could start with a walk. I’d like to eventually learn my way around out there on my own.”

Silvio gave him a bright smile and finished up the last bite of his food. Pushing his plate aside, he rested his arms on the table. A walk to show him around huh? Damn right he'd love to do that with him. Since Simon lived here now he wanted to be able to show him all the beautiful parts of the forest.

"Sure. When you're done eating I'll show you around a bit. There's beautiful parts of the woods out here that I think you'll really like. Even if you are more used to city life."

“I won’t be long,” he promised. It took a few more minutes for him to finish what he could stomach. The rest? That could be saved for later. Once he’d had his fill, Simon also pushed his plate to the side, certain that Silvio heard the subtle scrape across the table.

“Did you want any help cleaning up before we go?”

Simon still needed to get his shoes on and a proper shirt for going out into the woods. Sure, he’s used to the hustle and bustle of the city, what with spending so much of his time in it, but he can appreciate why someone would prefer this setting. It’ll just take some time for him to get used to the quieter, more subtle ambient sounds of the forest.

"I'd love help. Might be better than me sniffing the plate for food particles over and over again."

Silvio laughed and gathered up his plate before bringing it to the kitchen. Grabbing things to pack away Simon's food for now so he could eat the rest later if he wanted to, he pointed to where things were for washing dishes. "You know, it's nice to have help again. It's been awhile since I last had someone around. Almost forgot how much I missed it."

Simon chuckled softly as he waited for Silvio to finish packing up his leftovers. Once that was done, he took the plate, along with any other dishes still on the table, to join the others by the sink. Since it was just the two of them, it didn’t take very long to get the dishes and pans washed, dried and put away. He did have to ask where most things went – partly because he’s been living in Silvio bedroom and also because he wanted to put them exactly where Silvio wanted them so the wolf could find them later.

“I’m happy to help. It’s the least I can do while I’m here.” He doesn’t mean to imply this living arrangement is temporary. Simon simply doesn’t want to assume it’s permanent and not ‘until you’re feeling well enough to shower and eat without someone prompting you to.’

“Can you give me a moment to get something else on before we walk?”

"While you're here? You planning on leaving?" Silvio gave him a 'look' despite the fact that he couldn't actually see him. Then he reached over to pat him on the back with a laugh. "When I moved you in here, I meant that you lived here now."

Another pat and he laughed again. "Now go change. I could go out without a shirt but I'll go grab one too."

With a wave, he made his way toward his room so he could grab a shirt from the closet.

He should’ve known that would be Silvio’s reply. He said ‘you’re coming to live with me.’ Live. Not ‘stay’ or ‘visit.’ Simon couldn’t help smiling just a little when Silvio gave him that look. It felt good to be welcomed and wanted in this space. It may not be what Simon’s used to, but it felt warm and lived in – very unlike his own home.

“Okay,” he answered, that faint smile audible in the single word.

Simon toddled off to the bedroom to find a clean pair of pants, jeans, and a t-shirt. He could’ve gone out in his sweatpants, but he wanted to sleep in them one more night before discarding them as ‘dirty.’ If he went out wandering in the woods with them, he might not be able to do that. He tugged some socks out and made his way to the door, shoes in hand.

“I’m ready when you are.”

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CW: HOMOPHOBIA, SOME IMPLIED ABUSE

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continued CWs for the duration of this coversation

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