Steve, his smile no less genuine. He’s not stingy with his kisses. His hands hardly ever stop touching
his lover. But when Steve does his exercises to train his sense of balance, he can’t help but notice the
way Daniël bends over the bike, pedalling with furious aggression, his face set in full concentration.
Steve would even go as far and call it over-concentration, like his lover is trying to get away from
something as fast as he’s able to, without getting anywhere. There’s no fun, and certainly no joy, to be
found in the way he works his body to the point of exhaustion. His breathing becomes fast and
panting; sweat staining his shirt.
The physiotherapist notices it, too, but doesn’t comment on it. He reminds Steve to concentrate
on his own work, but that’s it. No questions, no concerned look, like Daniël’s uncontrolled explosion
of physical activity isn’t something he’s seeing for the first time.
Daniël needs longer than usual to take his shower and Steve knows all too well why. The
lingering musky smell of sex, of overpowering masculinity, is impossible to ignore. Steve feels he’s
not ready for this kind of aggressive sexuality, this blind need to take, to conquer. That doesn’t seeing
the loneliness in his beloved’s eyes hurt any less.
“I’m sorry ...”
What else can he say?
Daniël makes a helpless gesture. “I feel so...angry and helpless and frustrated. You work your
arse off, and what’s your reward? Getting around on crutches, reading books about a magic key, or
what’s it called. It took you so much courage to stay on that dentist chair. And I couldn’t even hold
your hand to help you, because I would have been in their way. And now I hurt you again by pleasing
myself under the shower. It feels like I’m cheapening you and your love for me.”
“Look at me, Danny. You can’t make the impossible happen. No one can. That’s why it’s
called the impossible. But without you, I don’t know if I would have the strength and the faith to do
even what is possible.”
Daniël gets up and starts to walk up and down the room before he sits again. “Now you’re
trying to cheer me up like you always do. What about you? How much more can you take?”
Steve looks at Daniël for seconds without saying a word. He can’t help asking himself the
same question again: will love be enough in the end? Or will love, however humanly inadequate, be
their only chance? Will it be the one thing that will always be there, when everything else fails and
crumbles apart, because it’s the one thing strong enough to carry the burden?
“I don’t want to know how close I am to desperation because that’s a truth I can’t face at the
moment.” His voice is flat and expressionless. But his hands are safe in Daniël’s.
“You’re with me. I’m with you. All the rest I can learn to deal with, somehow.” Daniël bows
his head, like he has done dozens and dozens of times, and kisses Steve’s arm.
“What if I’ll never learn to walk again like I used to? What if I can never again read at normal
speed? What if my speech stays this slow? What if ...”
Ghosts of years before them, when finally both of them realise things won’t be better in time.
Healing has stopped. Miracles come at a price.
Daniël shrugs. “Then I’m married to a guy who needs a bit of extra time for certain things. I
can live with that. But seeing you unhappy because you’re afraid I might find you less intelligent for
not being able to read like other adults,or scared during medical treatment, or think what your body
has to offer is no longer enough for me, that makes me so bloody sad and angry.”
“We’re never really alone, here. They’re good people, all of them, but this is not our home
ground. I think it’s time for us to go home and get married. I know I’m not finished with all the
therapies and I’m scared as hell, but do you think the doctors will be okay with us going after I’m
recovered from the operation?” Steve hears the hesitation but also the longing in his own voice.
Daniël smiles brightly. “I bet you’re not half as scared as I am. There’s so much we need to do.
We need a house, with things we both like. That’s what mum told me on the phone a few days ago;
make sure you start your married life in a house that really belongs to the both of you. Make a home.”
He pauses. “Am I going too fast?”
“Much too fast, but I like hearing you talking about a house that’s going to be our home.”
“Don’t forget a bed. One that’s comfortable and huge. You bet we’re going to spend an awful
lot of time in the bedroom, and lots of it won’t be for sleep.” Daniël’s eyes light up; he even blushes.
Steve isn’t aware of it, but from Daniël’s sudden change of mood, he concludes something
must be wrong with the expression on his own face. “What is it, Danny? You doubt I want exactly the
same thing?”
“I thought I was perhaps frightening you with my need and, you know, the reason why I jerked
myself off under the shower, an hour ago.”
Steve stops him with a kiss. “Never apologise for being a young, healthy man with matching
needs. And I’ll try not to apologise for being less strong and having far less stamina than before. We
both know you can give me everything I need from a lover, but I can’t do the same thing for you.”
“I need a good, hard fuck. I miss the feeling of your fat cock up my arse like mad. On some
days, I miss it so much it actually hurts. I’m honest with you about that. But I need you.”
“What about the other way around?” Steve has to ask, even if he’s uncertain about his own
feelings at this very moment.
“Is that even a question?” Daniël’s head a bit tilted, surprised. “I guess it is.”
“Tomorrow’s the operation. Will you sleep in my bed, with your arms around me? I’m so
bloody nervous.”
Daniël grins. “Not even half a dozen registered nurses and their fearsome matron will be able
to stop me.”
“Thank you. Oh, and another thing ...”
“Yes?”
“The next time you give yourself a little, you know, personal attention, warn me, so I can
watch and enjoy the view.”
Chapter 18
Daniël holding his hand while he falls asleep on the dentist chair is without a doubt the best
medicine to keep blind panic far enough at bay to pretend it’s not even there. And Daniël is holding
his hand when he wakes up again, if only for a few moments. The rest of the day is more or less lost in
painkiller sleep.
The first time he looks into a mirror, he sees a familiar face, but also more of a stranger than
he had anticipated.
“I don’t know, Danny...” Steve struggles for words.
Daniël, just as helpless, gently touches his lover’s face. “It’s you, believe me, it’s you.”
“What if I’ll never be the man I was when I walked into that park, even if I start looking like
him again?” He takes another look in the mirror.
Daniël cradles Steve’s face between his hands. “Still you, always you,” and kisses him.
Initially the kiss is chaste, but no more than a few seconds. Daniël is as curious as the first
time he kissed him with his teeth still in ruins. As curious as the very first time he kissed Steve. His
tongue teasing, exploring.
Finally they stop kissing; blushing a little, panting a bit.
“To me you couldn’t be unsexy if you tried,” Daniël whispers, “And believe me, what I’m
seeing now is sexy as hell. Those eyes and cheekbones and lips and... I wasn’t surprised when mum
told me all her friends are jealous she’s got such a handsome son-in-law. I would say, more than
ninety per cent is you being you, and the rest is added by a surgeon doing a pretty good job.”