Let It Go

Chapter 5
Five

Cradled in Trip’s arms, Joel falls against his friend’s chest, wrapping himself around him, though both of the tyke’s hands only reach to Trip’s shoulder blades. A cuddle on the couch sounds perfect to him. He can’t recall feeling so relaxed and carefree.

Trip fails to restrain an audible “aww,” his cheeks flushing red at Joel’s sheer adorability. He values his little friend’s hug quite deeply. Maintaining his composure, he sits upon the couch, cradling Joel in his arms.

“No more responsibilities for you,” Trip reiterated. “You’re now on a permanent vacation.”

“‘m I gonna back to school, though?” Joel mumbled sleepily, curling up, crinkling slightly.

Trip slides his thumbtip along the side of Joel’s forehead as he cuddles him, smiling at the quite evident crinkling and watching as a few of the dirt bikes on his friend’s Drynites sink into the baby fat his tummy had developed.

“I think you’ve got enough stuff in this head of yours,” says Trip. “You won’t have to worry about school. Unless, someday, you decide you really want to. Gotta make new friends sometime.”

Joel hums and leans deeper into Trip, losing himself. It’s almost too hard to believe that his fantasy has come true-- almost, aside from how natural it already feels. He mumbles something about being okay with school but the words come out drowsily and borderline incoherent.

Trip rocks his buddy gently to him, cooing and smiling at his subdued, babyish proclivities. He is inclined to sign Joel up for school-- Trip knows his friend’s mind, and it would be a terrible thing to waste. Perhaps the registration could wait, though. Trip’s not sure his little boy’s newfound lack of any responsibility whatsoever is a sensation that should be squandered.

The older boy slides his fingers gingerly through Joel’s hair. “Does someone need his racecar bed, or does he just want to fall asleep in Trip’s arms?”

Barely awake in Trip’s embrace, Joel murmurs, “Arms first... then racecar bed.”

Pressed against Trip’s shirt, Joel can smell him, and it’s oddly comforting-- a primal, childish association with safety; everything truly is taken care of.

Trip clutches his friend in his embrace, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. At times, their thoughts seem simply to connect. “You better believe it, Joel. Everything is taken care of.” He rocks the boy slowly, cooing to him, touching his chin gently with his fingertip and feeling so lucky to have such a wonderful little dude in his arms. He touches Joel’s feetsies, not to tickle him, but to add a little more comfort.

Joel moans and crosses the threshold into sleep and the childish dreams that go with it.