Page 70 of Ship Happens

“You didn’t talk to Dr. Travis about switching to gels before you left, did you?” Owen asks as he rips open a sanitary wipe.

“You already know the answer to that,” Jacob says. And he’s right, Owen does. “I just kept putting it off, then we left for Dover and it was too late.”

Owen shakes his head, readying the dosage in the syringe.

“Been too busy with those squid to get over your fear of needles?”

“I’ve got a lot on my plate,” Jacob adds defensively. “Besides, I thought having to do it alone would be some kind of immersion therapy.”

Owen pauses. “Who does it for you at the lab?”

“Caleb,” he replies. “He’s another trans guy on the team.”

“Oh . . .” Owen ignores the pull of jealousy he feels. Why would another man be there to touch Jacob, to do this for him? This used to be Owen’s responsibility. It almost became a routine: Gathering in the bathroom every few weeks, Owen would do his gel and his Humira injections, and then he’d help Jacob. Sometimes it was enough to just be there, hold Jacob’s hand as the needle pierced skin. Most of the time, however, Owen had been left to do the injection for Jacob. Not that he ever minded. There was something so intimate about getting to do this for Jacob.

This has always been his job. No one else’s.

“Yeah, he and his girlfriend are pretty funny. I think you’d like them.”

“Right, right . . .” Owen nods, feeling silly for letting himself get so jealous over a man he’s never even seen a photo of. “Okay, ready?” Owen asks.

Jacob closes his eyes, nods.

“I’ll go on three,” he starts to say. “One, tw—”

Halfway through the number, he surprises Jacob and pierces his thick thigh, pressing on the plunger quickly. Jacob grips the counter, gritting his teeth. “You’re a liar.”

“Sorry,” Owen apologizes, not meaning it for a second. “You’ll have to forgive me.”

Pulling the needle free, Owen carefully deposits it into the same bag he usually tosses his Humira injector into before he puts a Band-Aid over Jacob’s injection site.

“How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Okay.” Jacob nods. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Owen says, taking a shaky breath.

He can’t really ignore that Jacob’s naked anymore, no matter how hard he tries.

“So . . .” Jacob starts to say, seemingly realizing that the moment is awkward.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Owen asks, refusing to lose this chance.

Jacob smiles, like his relief is instant. “Want me to go get snacks?”

“Sure,” Owen tells him, standing with the help of his cane. “I’d probably put on pants first, though.”

An hour and a half later, they’re both what Jacob would call politely stoned, thanks to the edible from Owen’s stash that they split, and almost sick from all the candy that Jacob came back to the room with, the first of Christopher Reeve’s Superman movies playing on the television.

Jacob’s favorite movie.

He’d first taken Owen to see it on their fourth date. The Alamo Drafthouse in the Mission spent an entire summer playing every Superman movie. From the first serials like Atom Man vs. Superman and Superman and the Mole Men, which had been edited to be one continuous story. Despite not being a fan of superheroes, Owen had a good time.

Especially when he saw the look on Jacob’s face as the movie started playing on the big screen, the classic Warner Bros. logo appearing, the words June 1938 opening up the film. And Jacob didn’t stop smiling for the next two hours.

“Was that the first time you’ve seen it?” Owen asked as they both walked to the bus stop afterward.

“Nah, I think my mom and I watched it at least once a month when I was growing up; it was always my favorite,” Jacob said with a fondness that told Owen the memory was one Jacob held close to his heart. “But that was the first time I’ve seen it in the theater like that.”