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"I'll never feel the heat of the s-s-sun. Or the warmth of an embrace. It seems neither s-space nor society need me." Coat-guy, as I'd called him, said in between puffs of stilted breaths.
It seems neither space nor society need me.
The statement resonated somewhere deep within me, perhaps called out to my neglected, younger teenage self. I took a drag of my half-burned cigarette as I leaned against the doorframe to my living room. I remembered the time in high school where I'd told myself almost the exact same time. High school seemed less like three decades away and more like a lifetime ago, especially after the sun decided to singe whoever stepped foot under its light.
I took another drag as I stared at the cold, pale, almost blue man in front of me. He shivered with each laboured breath, eyes always averted whenever I talked to him.
Someone coughed in the background and cleared their throat, probably the tall man I'd let in the night before.
"Take off your jacket," I said, probably for the 4th time since I'd let him stay in my house 2 nights ago. Normally, such a suggestive statement would've made me blush, but after seeing horror after horror from my house's windows, those things no longer bothered me.
My mind grew more restless with each passing second. I flicked the cigarette ash to the floor before taking another puff. I didn't have time to play games, not with four other lives that resided in my household. Couldn't this neurotic guy understand that?
"I don't have time for whatever you're playing. I need to test your armpits." I spoke clearly as I flicked the cigarette butt to the floor and crushed it beneath my boots. The ashtray was in my bedroom.
After another long pause, Coat guy finally stammered out, "Mm.. I.. I need a m-moment."
"Enough," I snapped, drawing the looks from the other two people in the room, "If you're too shy to do it here, you can come to my bedroom and show me," I said, clutching his jacket before he could reply. The layers of fabric felt incredibly soft in my hands, my fingers gripping down tightly to feel no discernable skin or bone.
"No. W-What're you doing," He said, barely muttering out each syllable before my hold on his folded arms dragged him into the hallway, towards my bedroom.
"I'll leave! Please, I w-wont bother you," He whispered feverently as I continued to drag him through each corner. I wasn't even sure if he tried resisting, but I doubt I would've noticed it against his frame. He was skinny, more than feeble, despite his rounded, puffy cheeks.
Even his fingers felt fragile and boney. Somehow in the short distance, my hand had made its way down his arm to clutch his palm instead.
"Just l-let me leave. M-maybe the sun will f-finally warm me up," He added just as I swung open my bedroom door. The moment I let go, he immediately folded his hands back behind his elbows like he did before.
I walked around the perimeter of my bed and felt around in the dark for the switch to my night lamp. I wasn't going to let an innocent man just go, and probably end up dying in the morning light. I couldn't imagine any other residents willing to let such an eccentric man into their home. Perhaps what he said earlier just resonated with me, but I couldn't let him go until I was sure of his inhumanity.
My fingers finally found the switch as the lights flickered on. I'd find out whether he liked it or not. I turned around to stare at him defiantly, the first time I took a good look at him since the living room. The intimate, warm glow of my bedroom shades seemed to humanize the man, adding a little colour to his skin.
He stood frozen right where I let go of him, his shoulders bunched together tighter than they were before. He chose to half heartedly take a look around, although there was nothing much to see, his eyes flickering across the wooden planks that lined the walls to the TV that faced my bed.
Finally, his eyes landed on me, for what seemed like the first time ever, I met his sullen, possessed stare. "W-W-What are you gonna do?" He asked, seeming almost afraid but impassive to whatever fate awaited him. For the first time in this exchange, I felt a pang of guilt. What was I going to do? It felt- No, it was wrong to just strip him down forcefully.
The idea made my cheeks flush. In the intimate darkness of my bedroom, away from the other guests, I realised how insidious my intentions must have seemed. Another wave of shame washed over me, no wonder Coat guy looked so afraid. He probably thought I was about to do something entirely different to him, rather than just check for signs.
It's not like he's moving away, a despicable part of my brain told me, although I swatted the thought away quicker than I would a fly.
"I.. I don't want to throw you out. I'm not going to. I just need to check your armpits for the sign," I confessed more softly this time, "I thought being away from everyone would help you somehow."
"Mm.." He started again, "Y-You can... Just quickly l-l-look."
I paused for a moment, waiting for him to take off his jacket and show me, but he simply bowed his head down and unfolded his arms. Was he waiting for me to take his jacket off? Did he except me to undress him?
I pushed my spiralling thoughts aside and stepped closer, as if the movement itself asked the question I couldn't say. His head remained bowed, eyes staring at my feet as I was met with the crown of his head, where the roots of his hair blossomed out to form his silky hair.
He was slightly shorter than me, so I reached down to tug at his puffy outer jacket. The heavy jacket slid off easily from both his shoulders, falling to the floor with a thump. At this distance, I could smell the sweet, earthy scent emanating off Coat guys body. Of course, he smelled like sweat and filth since he refused to shower, permanently under the layers of clothing, but I found it all oddly pleasing. Above all, I could not just hear, but feel each shaky breath that vibrated across his body.
My hands barely touched his body as I took off his jacket, but even with a passing brush, I could feel the intensity of the tremors that afflicted his body. It confirmed that he really wasn't lying about being cold all the time. Was it some neurological condition? Maybe just a severe intolerance to the winter?
Without his puffy jacket, he was left in his undercoat, a long turtle neck that loosely fell below his fingertips. I doubted he wanted me to take that off too, as I asked him tentatively, "How.. How do you wish to go about this?"
I felt like slapping myself for stammering like he did, though I doubted he cared or noticed. I suddenly had felt confused and out of place. This was my own home, my own room for Godsakes. Why was my heart hammering in my chest?
"It's l-l-loose enough. Here," he said, rolling up his sleeves as if to demonstrate. It easily bunched around his wrists, it was definitely loose enough to check his armpits if I rolled it all the way and stretched it slightly.
But even attempting so might've been an issue as I felt my mouth go dry once he revealed his delicate wrists. His skin was marked and even paler than his face, and his wrist bone jut out like he were a skeleton in a poorly disguised flesh body. The sight made my heart rate double.
I felt like taking back what I had said, instead telling him that there was no need to check his armpits anymore, that his eyes would suffice. I knew it would be a pity of an excuse, since I checked his eyes yesterday. I was too far in to back out.
With my heart in my mouth, I held the fabric of his sleeve in both my hands. It was a soft, comfortable cotton, nothing like the outer jacket he wore. My fingers idly rubbed the fabric as I wondered if he could feel its sensation against his skin, or if the cold removed his ability to feel texture at all.
Slowly and gently, I guided the sleeve across his skin, my fingers hovering over where his actual arm laid. Bit by bit, it unsheathed his bare skin, much like unwrapping a present. Fuck. An unmistakable, electric sensation shot down my stomach and into my crotch. An uncomfortable hardness had started to form in my pants.
Before I could think of how to hide it, the man before me spoke up, "Q-Q-Quickly." HIs head was still hung between his shoulders and he seemed to grow tenser by the second. I needed to hurry.
The sleeve was already at his forearms as I tried to quickly tug it up further. The swift movement caused my thumbs to brush against his biceps, sending another jolt of electricity through my body. It struck me hot, right into my core, and I had to fight back a whimper from escaping. It had been weeks, perhaps months since I had gotten laid- At least that's the excuse I told myself.
Ignoring the growing hardness in my pants, I bit my lip and pulled up the sweater across the final stretch of skin, revealing the armpits I had wanted to inspect. One quick look told me everything I needed to know. That despite it being gross, fungal infected and flaky, the test was inconclusive. Like all the other ones I'd conducted so far.
I let his sweater fall with a sigh, my palm brushing against his arm as my movements grew careless. This time, there was no electric jolt, only the weight of another person colliding with my chest, pushing me back onto my bed.
I looked up in shock to see Coat guy, eyes big as saucers staring at me right back.
"S-Sorry- You- Felt w-warm," He said, looking away once again after the moment passed that. Hurriedly, he bent over to pull his jacket back on, showing more emotion than I'd ever seen from. He seemed genuinely surprised at his own reaction. Had he.. ever felt that before? Used another's body to feel warm? It might've been years since he last touched another person.
Before he could put on his jacket and go back into his shell, I exclaimed, "Wait," My hand seeming to reach out on instinct.
He froze, one arm already halfway into his coat.
"Was it me?" I asked, my mind racing, "I felt... warm?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. What was the point asking that, what answer was I hoping for?
He nodded.
Again, my mouth moved faster than my mind could catch up to, "You can come here. I can warm you up. I.. I don't mind."
First he hesitated, before closing the gap between us with careful, measured steps. He stopped just a foot away from me, lingering by the edge of the bed.
Closer to the bed, beneath the glow of the night lamp, I could see his face more clearly. Round, innocent doe-eyes that'd make him look younger than he was if it weren't for the deep eyebags under them. Short, squirrel-like eyebrows drawn together in a way that made my breath stutter.
He reminded me of a skittish animal, but the look of yearning in his eyes betrayed him.
"I think it'd be better if you took off your shirt," I added, too quickly, "You know... So I can better give you warmth." I flushed at my wording and the half hard tension in my pants only made matters worse.
He shook his head, "N-N-Not yet" He remained in his turtle neck as he slid onto the bed beside me, stiff and tentative.
When I'd dated before, I went for twinks with sleek, lean builds and a shining, extroverted confidence. He was nothing like that. All sharp edges and angles, a delicate fragility I felt I could break in my hand, looking more malnourished than anything I should find attractive.
And yet, I did.
Unsure of what to do next, I lay back and opened my arms as a silent invitation. It seemed like his self restraint snapped, as he settled against me like a mole burrowing into its home.
His head was tucked into the nook of my neck, one arm wrapping around my waist like it belonged there. The contact was chaste, innocent even. I felt him relax against me as we hugged each other in a silence that was between comfortable and awkward.
It felt like I was in high school again.
Just before I fell asleep, I heard the murmur of his voice, low and close to my ear, "Thank you."
This time, he didn't stutter.