Chapter 18: The Truth in the Park
Kyle's eyes fluttered open to pink light and the smell of his own apartment. His head was foggy, but not in a bad way. Soft, weighted kind of fog, the kind that came from sleeping hard.
Something was wrapped around him. Someone.
He turned his head slowly and found Roha's face inches away, still soft with sleep. His long dark hair was loose across the pillow, catching the string light like spilled ink. His chest rose and fell steady under Kyle's cheek.
Kyle's heart did a little skip.
He'd stayed. Roha had actually stayed.
Kyle took a moment to memorize the picture, because he knew this might not last. Roha had said he was only in town temporarily, and some part of Kyle had been bracing for him to slip away in the night like some kind of beautiful ghost. But here he was. Solid and warm and real.
Kyle wiggled closer and pressed a kiss to Roha's shoulder.
Roha stirred, a hint of a smile crossing his face. His eyes opened slowly, grey flecked with gold, and for a second he looked at Kyle like he couldn't quite believe he was there either.
"Morning," Kyle said.
"Good morning."
"Did you sleep okay?"
"Yes." Roha's voice was rough and low and did things to Kyle's stomach. "I slept better than I have in a very long time."
Kyle grinned. "Told you. My bed's magic."
Roha's expression flickered. Just for a moment, something sad moved behind his eyes, there and gone.
"Hey," Kyle said, propping himself up on one elbow. "You okay?"
"Yes. I just..." Roha hesitated, his gaze dropping to Kyle's collarbone. "There is something I need to tell you."
Kyle's stomach twisted. This was it. The temporary thing. The "I'm leaving soon" speech. He'd known it was coming, had braced for it since that first night on the rooftop. Still, hearing the preface made his chest ache.
"Okay," Kyle said carefully. "Can we maybe do it over coffee, or does this have to be a bed conversation?"
Roha almost smiled. "A walk. Would you go for a walk with me? There is a place I would like to show you."
Kyle blinked. "A walk? Like, a nature walk? In the park?"
"If that is agreeable."
That was not what Kyle had expected. He'd expected sadness and goodbyes and the gentle letdown. Instead Roha was asking him to go on a stroll, like they were some kind of couple in a rom-com.
"Yeah. Totally. Just let me shower and grab some clothes."
Roha nodded, and Kyle got up, a little self-conscious about his naked walk to the bathroom. Roha didn't look away, just watched him with that quiet intensity that made Kyle feel like the most interesting thing in the room.
The shower was quick. Kyle threw on jeans and a crop top with a cartoon cat flipping the bird, because it was Sunday and he was feeling chaotic. Roha got dressed in the same orange and blue tank top from last night, and Kyle pretended not to stare at the way the fabric stretched across his shoulders.
They left the apartment quietly. Joaquin's door was still closed, and Kyle didn't want to wake him.
The park wasn't far, just a few blocks from the apartment. Morning light filtered through the trees, soft and golden, and the air smelled like cut grass and damp earth. A few joggers passed them. A guy was throwing a frisbee for his dog.
"So," Kyle said, kicking at a pebble on the path. "How much longer are you in town for?"
Roha didn't answer right away. He walked in silence for a few steps, his hands in his pockets.
"It depends on you," he said finally.
Kyle laughed. "So I'm in charge of your schedule?"
Roha glanced at him, and there was something heavy in his eyes. "More than you know."
Kyle tried to read him, failed, and decided to just enjoy the walk. The sun was warm. The park was pretty. And the most beautiful man Kyle had ever seen was walking beside him.
Roha led him off the main path, down a narrow trail that twisted through some ancient oaks. The noise of the park faded. It got quieter, stiller, like they'd stepped into a bubble.
"There is a place back here," Roha said. "I found it earlier in the week. It felt like a good place to think."
"Oooh a secret spot," Kyle teased. "This is getting serious."
Roha didn't smile.
They came to a small clearing, hidden by the trees. A fallen log served as a bench, and a shaft of light came through the canopy, illuminating the moss like a spotlight.
Roha stopped. He turned to face Kyle, and his expression was so serious that Kyle's teasing instinct fizzled out.
"Kyle," Roha said. "I need to tell you something."
Kyle braced himself on the log, ready for whatever came next. "Okay. Hit me."
Roha took a breath, deep and slow, like he was gathering courage from the ground itself. "I am a genie, Kyle. A djinn. I have lived for three thousand years, bound to a brass lamp. The night we met, you released me. And I am bound to grant your wish for whatever you desire."
Kyle stared at him. Then he laughed. Actually laughed, a real one, hand coming up to cover his mouth.
"Oh my god. You're doing the wish game." He pointed at Roha, grinning. "Okay, okay, I'll play. I wish..."
Roha moved fast. His hand came up and covered Kyle's mouth, his palm warm and broad, and his eyes were wide. Not playful. Not anything close to playful.
"Do not," Roha said. "Please. Do not say anything more."
Kyle pushed the hand down, heart picking up speed. "Roha, what the hell?"
"Every word counts, Kyle. Even a joke. Even a game. The magic does not care if you mean it." His voice cracked at the edges. "You have one wish left and you to be careful with it. Please, Kyle. I am begging you to make it count."
Kyle stepped back. A leaf drifted down between them, slow, catching the light. "Okay, this is... you're really committing to the bit, and honestly it's kind of freaking me out."
"Think," Roha said. "The alley where we met. The antique store. There was a lamp."
A flicker. Something at the very bottom of Kyle's memory, fuzzy and beer-soaked. He'd been so drunk that whole night was basically a music video with missing scenes.
"I remember an alley," Kyle said slowly. "I don't remember a lamp."
"You were drunk and weren't paying attention." Roha's hands were moving now, restless. "I came out of the lamp. I told you what I was, and you looked at me, and you said..."
Kyle watched him. Roha's jaw worked.
"You said, 'I wish you were my friend and would come clubbing with me.' And I have been bound to you ever since."
The clearing was very quiet. Kyle could hear his own pulse in his ears. Somewhere beyond the trees, the dog barked at its frisbee.
"That's..." Kyle shook his head. "That's insane. You're saying you're magic. Actual magic. Like, lamps and wishes and... genie genie."
Roha reached into his pocket. Pulled out the phone. He held it flat on his palm, looked at Kyle once, and then the phone collapsed inward, folding into itself like paper burning in reverse, metal flowing and darkening and rounding, until a small brass lamp sat gleaming in his hand.
Kyle's legs sat down on the log without asking him first.
The lamp was dented and old and real. It caught the light through the canopy and threw little golden flecks across the moss. Kyle's mouth opened and closed a couple of times.
"Holy shit... You... you... It's real?" he said. His voice came out thin.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Kyle was on his feet now, and his voice climbed. "We got tacos and went to clubs and you sleept in my bed, and you just let me think you were some guy who was new in town? What the hell?"
"I tried to tell you!" For the first time since Kyle had known him, Roha raised his voice. "That first morning. You asked what I did for work and I told you, I grant wishes."
Kyle opened his mouth. Closed it. Yeah. That sounded like him.
"And the wish," Roha went on, quieter. "The friendship wish. It binds me. Every time I got close to the truth, it prevented me from speaking freely. I stopped trying. I am sorry."
Kyle sat back down on the log. His skin felt cold despite the sun. He looked at Roha, this man he'd kissed, this man he'd slept with, this man he'd hoped could be something real. And something ugly and small started talking in the back of his head.
"So you only like me because of my wish," Kyle said. "That's the only reason you're here. The magic made you."
Roha flinched like Kyle had physically struck him. For a long moment, he just stood there, the brass lamp still in his hands, his grey eyes dark and unreadable.
"At first," he said. "Yes. It was like that at first."
Kyle's chest went cold. He opened his mouth, but Roha kept going, the words coming faster now, like he couldn't get them out fast enough.
"But that is not why I am here now. That is not why I stayed."
Roha set the lamp down on the log between them, his hands shaking slightly. "You are the only human in three thousand years who wanted nothing from me. No wealth. No power. No vengeance on their enemies. You asked for friendship. You gave me freedom to choose, Kyle. You let me decide what I wanted."
Kyle shook his head. "But the magic—"
"The magic binds me to you." Roha's voice cracked. "I feel things. I feel friendship because of you. You showed me what kindness looks like. What being wanted for who you are, not what you can give, feels like."
Kyle watched a tear slip down Roha's cheek.
"I do not want to go back to the lamp," Roha said, and his voice broke on the word lamp. "I do not want to go back to the darkness and the silence. I... I don't want to be alone anymore."
Kyle's throat tightened. He wanted to reach out, but his body wouldn't move.
"But I will go back," Roha said. "I will go back if it means I can grant your final wish and give you everything you deserve. I owe you that much, for allowing me to experience the world, dancing, food, and... your affection."
Kyle stared at the lamp on the log. It was small and dull and dented on one side, the kind of thing you'd walk past in a thrift store without a second look. It sat there between them like a third person in the conversation.
"Okay," Kyle said. His voice came out flat and strange, like it belonged to somebody else. "So I already used two wishes?"
"You have."
"What was the second wish?"
Roha laughed. It was a wet, broken sound, nothing like real laughter, but his shoulders shook with it anyway. He wiped at his face with the back of his wrist and looked at Kyle like he couldn't decide whether to cry harder or smile.
"You wished for a restaurant," he said. "Last night. You wanted corn dogs at two in the morning."
Kyle blinked at him. Slowly. He replayed last night, the sidewalk, Nell laughing, Joaquin saying something about the universe. His own voice, whining into the dark about fried food.
"The corn dog place? That was you?"
"I built it out of nothing. Two blocks away. I knew you didn't mean it. I tried to stop, but..." Roha's jaw tightened. "You said the word wish, Kyle. That is all it takes. I am compelled to fulfill your wishes. I do not have a choice."
Kyle pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He wanted to laugh and he wanted to throw up and both of them were sitting in the back of his throat at the same time.
"I'm so stupid," he said. "I'm genuinely, actually stupid. It's a real thing about me. My friends all know."
"You are not stupid."
"I wished for corn dogs. Out loud. In front of you. And I didn't even notice you making the thing."
Roha exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. "You were drunk."
"That's not better." Kyle dropped his hands and looked at him, and the full weight of it finally landed. All of it. The alley, the lamp, the three thousand years, the thing sitting on the log between them. "So that's it. I've got one left."
"One left."
"And when I use it, you go back in the lamp."
"Yes," Roha said. "The contract completes. I return to the lamp until someone else releases me."
Kyle looked at the dented brass, then at Roha's face. The tear tracks. The raw hope underneath all that resignation.
"That's not happening," Kyle said.
Roha blinked. "What?"
"Use my last wish for some mansion or a yacht or whatever, and you go back to being trapped?" Kyle picked up the lamp, warm and heavy in his hands. "No. I'm not doing that. I don't want that."
"But you could have anything—"
"I have my friends. I have my life. I have this weird, magic, impossible thing that's you." Kyle set the lamp down. "I'm not wishing. I'm just keeping you."
"Kyle..."
"No!" The word came out louder than Kyle meant, cracking through the clearing like a slap. He was still holding the lamp, and he thrust it back at Roha like it was on fire. "I need to think. I need to... just give me some space, okay?"
Roha's face crumpled, but he took the lamp and nodded. His mouth opened, then closed without a sound.
Kyle turned and walked. The path blurred under his feet, the trees closing in around him. He didn't know where he was going, only that he couldn't stand there one more second with Roha's eyes on him.