To Catch a Firefly

by Emmy Sanders

I was safe, and I had someone who was just mine, and…and he was always there for me. Even still, he’s always there for me.” “He’s your anchor,” Danil says quietly. “No,” I whisper, my eyes lifting to the full moon. “He doesn’t fight the tide. He controls it.” My coworker-turned-friend sighs, and I bring my eyes back to him. “A romantic,” he insists. Maybe he’s right.

“Tell me the truth,” he says. “Did you ever have a crush on your…friend?” My swallow is rough. “Maybe once upon a time,” I admit. It’s not exactly a lie, even if that crush never quite went away. “And Ellis?” Danil says. “He didn’t feel the same?”

Attraction can be swift, instantaneous and all-consuming, like wildfire. It can be slowly crafted and tended to over time, an ever-changing canvas, brush strokes built over one another until the picture is clear. It can be lost, I think, for some. But what makes one person look at another and think yes, this one. I want this one? What makes their heart beat faster? What makes their body react?

My cheeks ache with my smile when I see the name onscreen.

I make a sound of acknowledgement, but my mind is stuck on the image of Lucky spread out naked on silky smooth sheets. My heart picks up speed, my body heats, and there. There it is, that intangible, magnetic force pulling me toward someone I can’t even physically see.

We hold onto the memories from our past, don’t we? We cling to the pieces that made the whole of us, good or bad. Because if we don’t…if we don’t keep them close…we might lose that part of who we are.

I give him the two words that have never gotten easier in the three years since he’s been gone. “Night, Luck.” I keep the other two for myself. Miss you.

“He’s such a good boy. Man,” she corrects. “But I hate to see him put his own life on hold. At least he has a date to the corn festival this weekend.” It takes a second for her words to sink in, but once they do, I can barely breathe. “What?” I ask, my voice a hoarse whisper.

Ellis has a date? “You deserve that, too,” she says.

I have the distinct, overwhelming notion that maybe this is what Ellis feels like when his words won’t come. I nearly sob with the thought, heart aching, and I slap a hand over my mouth before I can bark an ill-timed laugh. What a time to realize how very much not over my childhood crush I am. Fuck. “I, um,” I manage. “No, I’m not seeing anyone. And I didn’t realize…about the date, I mean. That’s good. For him.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, but then there he is, coming out of the shed, worn jeans stretched tight across his thighs and a dark red t-shirt clinging to his upper body. He’s a good ways away, but he’s right there for the first time in months, and suddenly, I forget how to move oxygen through my lungs.

And it’s the weirdest thing, but for once, I’m worried about what I’m going to say to him. I’m scared of what might come out of my mouth. Scared about why I came back here. My palms are sweating, my body feels flushed, and now that I’m finally, blessedly here after a day of rushing toward this exact point in time, I can’t get myself to move a muscle.

“You never told me the man is a goddamn lumberjack-me-off-please. I mean, fucking hell, Lucky, he could swallow me whole.” He adds a whispered, “If I were so lucky.”

“It was never… He’s not like that,” I try to explain. “Not like what?” Danil asks. “Because, fuck, Lucky-boy, if I weren’t concerned about you stabbing me for the suggestion, I’d be begging to join you up that mountain.” I groan, scrubbing my hands over my eyes. “Stop, please.” “See? That,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger my way. “You feel some way about him.”

I forget, sometimes, when I can only hear his voice, exactly how big Ellis is. He is a mountain of a man but the gentlest soul I’ve ever met. And he’s… I blow out a slow breath. He’s beautiful; I can’t even deny that. He’s lovely in the way the natural world is lovely. Imperfect but vital. Roughly hewn and uniquely himself. He’s just… Ellis. He’s my Ellis.

And it’s then, when our gazes collide for the first time in half a year, that my worry fades, my tension dissipates, and I sway forward as every single part of me sings in rightness and relief. Because finally—finally—I’m home.

“Luck,” I manage. And God, the way he smiles. We reach each other halfway between our houses, and my arms are around him before I’ve even caught up with the fact that he’s here. It seems impossible. Like a dream. But it’s not a dream. The feel of Lucky tucked against my chest is enough to convince me of that. He’s real. And he’s here. Here. And I’m shaking with my want for him.

He looks up at me, eyes taking me in as if he’s reassuring himself I’m whole. I can’t say I don’t do the same.

Lucky is first up the steps, giving me a beaming smile that instantly transports me back to when we were sixteen. Or eleven or eighteen or twenty-two. It’s a million memories in one, that smile, and I’m swamped by them, overcome by the history we share. There are strings connecting us, so many of them. I don’t think we could ever be unraveled.

The smile he gives Lucky is personal—secretive—and Lucky squirms slightly in his chair. Instantly, I feel the need to defend him. “Would’ve…”—it takes me a moment—“done it, too.” I hope Dani understands what I mean.

“I always have it in my head,” Lucky says, “that this place is nothing but dirt and corn. In all of my memories, I couldn’t wait to get out.” I nod because I know that. “And then…” he goes on. “Then I come back here, and it feels like…” He lets loose a breath, eyes drifting shut. “It feels good. And I don’t understand that. I don’t understand how one place”—he flicks his eyes to me—“can feel like the starting point.

My heart is thudding inside my chest, and I reach over, slipping my hand over Lucky’s. Without looking my way, he turns his palm up, squeezing me hard.

So instead, I keep my hand in his so he knows I’m here. That he’ll always have a place to come back home to.

“As soon as you get home from work, we’ll—I don’t know. We’ll do something great.” I nod. Of course it will be great. It’ll be with him.

But none of my memories compare to the real thing. If I could, I’d bottle it in a jar—every glance of your hand on my arm, every small squeeze and brush of your fingers, every press of your chest to mine. I’d save them all so I could feel you when you go.

It was us against the world, Luck. The two of us, always. Me and you. We’ve grown. Of course we have. But still, always, I love you. Don’t stay away too long this time, my darling firefly.

“You love him,” Danil accuses in the morning.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I tell him. Because I can’t say no. I can’t lie. Not about that, no matter how much I try to deny it inside my own head and heart. Danil lets out a huff, arms at his sides. “You don’t need to tell me anything, Lucky, but I am here for you, you know. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean I’m not your friend first and foremost.”

“Why did you lie about him?” “I didn’t,” I say on autopilot. “You did,” he counters. “You said you had a crush, once. You belittled your feelings.” “Because it doesn’t matter,” I say a touch hotly.

“Even though he’s your big romance,” Danil says, emphasizing the words. I meet his eye, cheeks warm despite myself. “Ellis and I have never been that.” The look he gives me is smugly doubtful. “Right. The man—once boy—who showed up on your doorstep with two blue boutonnieres. That was prom, I assume? Surely nothing romantic about that.”

“You know,” Danil says slowly. “If he is, in fact, asexual, that doesn’t necessarily preclude him from wanting a romantic relationship.” I hate how my heart flutters hopefully at that.

“But your Ellis… Is it possible he does want a partner? That he wants someone to share his life with?”

I’d hoped, on more than one occasion, that Ellis might want me. I asked him, directly or indirectly, so many times. I gave him plenty of chances to show me he wanted me, too. But he never did.

I still don’t want him to want anyone else. Maybe that makes me an asshole, but I think I’ve earned the right. No one will ever know Ellis like I do. And yet there are things I don’t know, aren’t there? “You’re having a moment,” Danil says quietly. “Yes.”

“Would he leave you?” Danil asks. “Would he cut ties?” “No,” I whisper. I don’t think he’d do that. But he’d know. Could I bear it? “And what if,” Danil says slowly, “he said yes? What if he wants you, too?” I shake my head, not willing to hope. “He doesn’t.”

“Lucky-boy, in the half a year I’ve known you, I’ve seen your eyes light up in front of a dormant volcano. I’ve seen you run with a herd of buffalo, just to get the right shot. I’ve seen your fearlessness worn right on your sleeve, but until last night, I’d never seen your heart. Where is your courage now? Why are you running from him?” “I’m not—” “You are,” he insists, voice rising. “We came back here on a whim, but here you are, sitting in your parents’ house while he’s out there.” He waves his arm wide, gaze imploring. “Why aren’t you with him?” “I’m scared!” I finally yell. “I can’t lose him, Dani. I can’t.”

“I’m not—” He makes an incredulous sound before dropping his arm. “I’m being supportive and lovable. If I were trying to get into your pants, you’d know it.” My lips twitch as I open the bedroom door. “As if I’d even try right now,” he adds, following me down the hall. “Your Ellis could rip me in half. I’m not a small guy, Lucky-boy. But that man scares me.”

Do I really think shooting my shot with my friend of fifteen years, suddenly and out of the blue, is going to end well for me?

There’s a baseball hat on his head, and he gives me a smile that just about stops my heart. Beautiful.

“Luck,” I say quietly. He doesn’t turn around, so I remove my hat, slipping it in my back pocket, and, taking a chance, I step forward. Lucky’s arms are around his stomach, and I wrap mine slowly over his, bending my head and resting my forehead against his hair.

“This…the glass…was supposed to be…” I shrug a little, my arms brushing his shoulders. “Mine.” My way to keep Lucky close. My way to keep him here with me, even when he was in New York or halfway around the world. It was—is—my coping mechanism.

But it’s more than that, too. It’s my heart. A love letter I was too afraid to show Lucky. It was safer, keeping it to myself. Just like all those emails littering my drafts folder. Self-preservation is a strong motivator.

“I’m sorry, El. I shouldn’t have left yesterday.” I shrug, not wanting him to feel bad about it. It’s not often the pair of us fight, but Lucky’s not to blame. I did keep things from him, and that’s on me. I don’t fault him for being upset. “Did you…” He peters out. “Did you have a good day?” I think that over before nodding. It was fine.

“You,” Lucky says, a hoarse sort of chuckle in his voice, “are trouble.” I shake my head, clearing my throat. “That’s you.” He huffs. “Well, I think you’re catching up.” “Uh-oh,” I deadpan.

Finally, I say, “When you’re…gone, you… You share your life. With me. Your adventures and… And your joy.” I set my gaze on the corn as I go on. “It means the world to me, Luck. To be a part of that. I… Please don’t stop just…just because I was…” Scared, I can’t say. I can’t. I let out a small breath before continuing. “I don’t ever want to lose…the place I have in your world.”

He grabs my hand, and I swallow, tingles chasing one another up my arm. “You won’t lose me, El,” he says. “Not ever.”

“Do you want a partner? A, uh, romantic relationship, I mean. Is that something you want?” Ellis’s brow furrows slightly, and I’m not surprised. My question is coming out of nowhere. After a moment, he answers, “With the right person.”

“Do you want to?” If Ellis is wondering why I’m asking whether or not he wants to have sex, he doesn’t show it. “Right person,” he answers again. My pulse thunders. “And has there been anyone recently?” I ask, voice nearly a whisper. “Anyone who’s caught your eye?” Ellis doesn’t once look away, even as it takes him a moment to respond. “One,” he finally says. “One person.”

His arms come around me slowly, but it’s the most natural thing, the way we fit together.

I remember, without my permission, the feel of his skin underneath my palms when we were seventeen. When Ellis kissed me beneath a waterfall. My first kiss. My first love. Eyes stinging, I step back. “Bye, El,” I say quickly, turning away. His “Bye, Luck” trails after me.