by Max Walker
“I don’t know… I…” Jonah looked down to his scuffed white sneakers, sand speckled across the tops.
And, for some reason I couldn’t pinpoint, I was overwhelmed with a sense of disappointment.
What the fuck was I thinking would happen? He’d come over and we’d realize our undeniable connection, and then we’d kiss and fuck and cuddle and fuck again until the sun came up?
If I could punch myself without being thrown into a straitjacket, I would.
“Listen, don’t worry about it. Have a good night, Jonah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I didn’t want to pressure him, and I certainly didn’t want to put him in another awkward spot. He could find a hotel and figure things out in private—no need to look to me for comfort.
I turned and started walking, every step I took stirring that oil spill of disappointment that spread through my chest.
11 Jonah Brightly
“Wait!” My voice cracked toward the end. Fox stopped. I was hurrying out of my office, locking the door and going down to the end of the hallway where Fox waited, the ghost of a smile playing on his face, highlighted by the bright office lighting that bounced off the light blue walls.
“Your ‘really comfortable fucking couch’ has my interest.”
Fox was smiling for real now. “All right, let’s get out of here. I only live a few blocks down from here, we can walk.”
“Let’s go.” I followed him out, shutting the lights off behind us. He locked up the main door, and we started down the street, orange street lights guiding our way down the relatively empty streets. We walked past a couple of bars that were still pumping music behind their big black doors, but overall, our walk was quiet. I was mostly thinking about what happened with Wendy, and Fox was… well, who knew what Fox was thinking about.
I wouldn’t mind knowing.
Fox was a little bit of a mystery to me, and I liked that. He had a big heart and always seemed to wear a genuine smile, but there were still walls there. He was holding back, and I wasn’t sure what that was or why he was holding it back. But there was definitely something there, and it was a huge something.
“Just down this street,” he said, his voice filling my senses. Fox did that. He had an all-consuming-type of presence. He took up the space in any room and seemed to get right under your skin somehow. I felt it from the second I met him for the interview, and I felt it now as we walked side by side down a well-lit street, palm trees swaying gently above us, colorful beach houses lining the sides of the street.
The back of our hands brushed against each other.
Sparks flew through my nervous system.
I suppressed the feeling, stuffed it deep down. No need to make things more complicated right now. There was already plenty I had to deal wi—
Again, hands brushed over each other, his knuckles grazing over mine.
Again, sparks shot through me, and again, I suppressed them.
Jesus, how narrow is this damn street?
It wasn’t narrow at all. There was plenty of space for us to walk with two other people between us. But neither of us seemed to be leaving any space for that to happen.
Like magnets.
And on top of the sparks, there was something else going on, too. It was a butterfly feeling that I hadn’t felt in, pfft, decades? Since I was a kid in middle school with a crush that seemed to be the center of my world.
Those butterflies dusted off their wings, blew off the cobwebs that clung to their spindly little legs, and started fluttering around their dusty cave inside my gut.
All because of the man who was walking next to me, currently leading me to his home.
All because of a man. One who I almost kissed.
A man who I desperately wanted to kiss.
“It’s this one.” Fox stopped in front of a one-story house painted a light pink, with white around the windows and a bright blue door popping underneath the street light spilling over the area. It was… not what I was expecting from Fox, but I loved it.
He pushed open the gate of a white picket fence and led me up the short stone path to the door. There were two lawn flamingos on either side of the path, another playful touch that I wasn’t quite expecting.
“Meet Frankie and Freddie. They’re my guard flamingos.” He gave a playful pat to one of them. The pat must have been extra hard because Frankie wobbled and toppled over onto its side. “Wow,” Fox said with a laugh as he crouched down to fix his fallen flamingo.
This had the effect of stretching his pants against his ass. My eyes dropped to the target like an arrow finding a bull’s-eye.
“Need help?” I asked, just to give me something to do besides stare at this man’s ass. Obviously, he needed zero help, the flamingo back on its thin metal pole in a matter of seconds. I pried my eyes off the curve of his ass before he looked up and caught me.
“I’m good,” he said, getting back to his feet.
What the hell is going on with me?
It wasn’t the alcohol; I wasn’t really feeling much of that anymore. So what else was making me feel like I was intoxicated on some crazy strong jungle juice? I should have been mopey and upset, having just broken things off with my long-term girlfriend, but… for some reason… I was… I was happy? I was happy to be single, but also happy to be spending time with Fox.
It’s exactly what he said. I had felt like a brand-new world was opening up to me. Like I had gotten a second chance at finding my one true match, instead of forcing myself into a fit that was clearly not for me. Wendy and I had been in denial for far too long, and tonight had been the last straw.
So instead of anger and sadness, I was feeling a bright hope light up inside me.
Another thing I was feeling? The tightness of my briefs as I began to swell, Fox’s ass having a little too big of an impact on me.
Whatever, we’re just two good friends. That’s all. He’s attractive, sure, but that doesn’t mean…
Fox unlocked his front door and pushed it open, stepping aside so I could go in first. I thanked him and walked in, the lights coming in soon after, Fox having followed me in and flicked them on.
We stood inside a quaint living room, with soft white walls and a couple of hanging prints that showed beautiful photos of colorful geodes in sparkling blues, bright purples, and crystal pinks. There were three tall and thriving plants sitting in big white ceramic pots, made taller by the polished wood stands they were held in. There was a large flat-screen hanging up on the wall, across from a charcoal-gray couch, which I will fully admit looked comfortable as fuck.
“All right, all right,” I said, gravitating toward the couch.
“Try it out. You’ll see I wasn’t full of it.”
I smiled as I plopped down on the couch. Except it was closer to a cloud than a couch. “Holy shit.” I laughed as I kicked my shoes off and lay down, fitting comfortably with my feet up. “This is better than my bed!”
Fox gave a deep laugh and walked over. “This part comes out. Here, get up.” He lifted the cushion I was sitting on and expanded the couch to turn it into an equally comfortable-looking bed.
“I’ve got a guest room, but it’s a disaster zone. If I knew I’d be taking in a stray tonight, I would have gotten it ready.”
“Not a problem,” I said, finding myself having to look away from those big hazel eyes before I got permanently lost in them.
Want to hear something funny?
I could barely remember if Wendy’s eyes were brown or hazel.
What the absolute fuck? Something’s wrong with me…
I started to feel guilty. My body felt stiff, and my lids were like anchors, falling heavy on my eyes. “Where’s your bathroom?”
“Right over there,” Fox said, pointing down a hallway toward an open door, a bright blue room peeking through the crack.
“Thanks.” I went to the bathroom and closed the door behind me, resting my back against the wood and taking a deep breath. I looked up, as if an answer to all my questions wo
uld be written on the ceiling.
At the sink, I let the water run for a minute, leaving my hands under the warm water and avoiding my reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, all my insecurities were grabbing me by the throat and thrashing me around like an old chew toy inside the jaws of a Rottweiler. I grew up as a pretty confident kid, but after a bullet almost rearranged my skull and subsequently forced me to rearrange my life, well, my confidence also took a hit. Especially early on, when I’d drop everything I grabbed, when sentences were hard to form. My confidence had taken a nosedive, and it was only recently that I’d been able to start picking it back up again.
Now, though, it was back in a free-fall.
Was this a mistake? Should I have gotten a hotel? What did he see in me? What did I care what he saw in me?
Why was a huge part of me shouting that a hotel would have been a terrible idea?
Why was a huge part of me shouting for Fox?
Why? Why was this happening to me? Why now?
So many questions, but I wasn’t about to fuck up Fox’s water bill over them. I turned the water off, took another deep breath, let it out, and told myself I was going to be okay.
I exited the bathroom, feeling a little steadier even though I still lacked all the answers, and was surprised to see that the couch-bed had been transformed with a big blue comforter and a couple of fluffy pillows sitting next to a folded-up gray blanket, the extra-soft and extra-fuzzy kind.
I turned to Fox, who was now wearing a pair of white basketball shorts and a snug-fitting T-shirt. “Wow, you really didn’t have to, Fox.”
“Oh, this? Don’t worry about it, this is for me.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, I tried out the bed and turns out there’s a spring that’s a little wonky.”
“Oh…”
“So you’ll get my bed. I’ll crash on the couch tonight until I get someone to fix it tomorrow. Here, you can change into these.” He handed me a pair of black shorts and a white shirt, but I was still hung up on his offer to sleep on the springs.
“No way, I’m not taking your bed. Thank you, Fox, I really appreciate it. I appreciate this all so much… No one… not many people… this is one of the nicest things that someone’s ever done for me. So I’ll sleep on springs even if it means getting devirginized at some point in the night, but I’m not taking your bed. Maybe turn it back into a couch; I’m good with that, too.”
Fox seemed slightly caught by surprise, his eyes wide, and then he laughed loudly. “All right, we can fight about this later.” I realized then he had something in his hands. I was trying so hard not to look at the basketball shorts, which were particularly full around the crotch area. “I figured maybe we could have a drink to cap the night?” He lifted the bottle of rum, the amber liquor sloshing around the midway mark. His eyes were glinting with a mischievous energy, one that intrigued me. Most of my body was crying out for sleep, but I ignored that part and nodded instead.
“Let’s do it,” I said, clapping my hands and kicking off my shoes. “I feel bad—I’m taking up space in your place, and now I’m taking your liquor. I’m going to owe you big-time, Fox. And just know, I’m the kind of guy who always repays any debt I have.”
Fox shook his head. He walked over to the kitchen and placed the bottle down on the counter with a loud clunk. He opened up a cupboard and pulled out two shot glasses, small and round. I watched him. Watched the way his biceps fit snug in the sleeves of his light-blue shirt. And how his big shoulder blades shifted and danced under the fabric. And how the shorts fell off the curve of his ass, the way his crack seemed to swallow the thin material.
This isn’t right. I can’t take my eyes off him. Can’t stop my dick from getting hard at the sight of him…
Annnd that’s when I knew I was in trouble. Something was going on and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Mainly because I wanted to put my whole fucking hand on it.
12 Gabriel “Fox” Morrison
“No! No fucking way, I’m not doing that.” Jonah was laughing, his arms flailing in the air. “Nope.”
“Okay, fine, fine.” I was laughing, too. It was hard not to when the sound of Jonah’s cheer was so damn infectious. “All right, instead of barking five times like a dog before you drink, you’ve got to… bark three times.”
“What? No! I’m not bargaining barks.” He looked at me, still laughing, and slumped his shoulders. He raised his glass, and still with a smile that basically said “fuck you,” he barked three times and then he drank.
In between us was a solid ring of playing cards, facedown and spread out. In the center of the ring was a double shot of rum. The clock behind Jonah read two thirty in the morning, although it felt like the night only just started. I definitely wasn’t expecting us to start playing Ring of Fire from offering Jonah a drink, but I was quickly learning that time spent with Jonah was full of the unexpected.
And I liked that. A whole fucking lot.
“Good boy,” I teased. He got red in the cheeks, flashed those pearly whites, and then flashed his middle fingers. He went for another card, pulled it out while being careful not to break the circle, and then showed me the card.
“An ace. We gotta waterfall.” I lifted my beer bottle and clinked it with Jonah. He smiled and put his bottle to his lips, starting the waterfall. I followed, chugging the beer and keeping an eye on Jonah. I couldn’t stop until he stopped, and that bastard was not stopping. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he glugged his beer, some of it dripping down his mouth, leaving a shiny trail. My bottle was almost empty, but I kept going, and finally Jonah put his down, the empty bottle sounding against the floor.
I stopped and took a big breath. “Holy shit,” I said. “You can chug.”
“I rushed a frat in college,” Jonah admitted, wiping at his mouth with his forearm.
“That explains it. Did you like being in the fraternity?”
His lips tightened. “Eh, it wasn’t my favorite thing in the world. I was a junior in college and kind of lost. Didn’t feel like I had a solid group of friends and thought a fraternity would be a good way to find a group.” He shrugged. “It was fun, and the parties were crazy, but I didn’t really click with any of the guys. I never finished pledging.”
I nodded. “I could understand that. It’s tough trying to find your tribe, but I think I found a good one in the Stonewall family. Even harder, though, is trying to find your ‘one.’ I’m still working on that.”
“How has a guy not locked you down yet? You’re tall, dark, and sexy. You’ve got tattoos, you’ve got a great smile. You can make people laugh and feel comfortable and…” Jonah stopped himself, some kind of realization setting in on his face.
“Thank you for all that, you’re really kind. And also really full of shit.”
“No, no, I’m not.” He sounded sure of himself, even though his face looked like someone who spilled some kind of secret.
“Well, thank you… How did you know I have tattoos?” I cocked my head, eyes locked on his, my lips twitching up into a smile.
“I… well, you know… it was… through your shirt earlier. The bright colors pop.”
Something about the idea of him sneaking glances at my bare chest made my pulse quicken. “I’ve got a big chest tattoo that goes up over my shoulder and ends halfway around my bicep. You can’t see it unless my shirt’s off, that’s why I was surprised.”
“I’ve got good eye,” Jonah quipped, smirking.
“That’s why I hired you as a Stonewall detective.”
“That’s the only reason?”
I cocked my head and licked my lips. “The only one.”
He laughed, his eyes dropping to my chest. “Can I see them? I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but I’ve always been kinda nervous about putting something so permanent on my body.”
I stood up and worked my shirt up over my head. Jonah looked up, his jaw dropping, eyes going wide.
“Jesus, Fox. That’s beautiful!”
He followed me up onto his feet and moved closer to me, being careful not to mess up the cards on the floor.
“Thank you,” I said, my eyes dropping down. On my chest was a blast of bright color that slowly transformed into a black-and-white piece as the tattoo went onto my arm. The colored part going to just below my nipple was a scene of bright pink and blue flowers with a couple of green-and-red hummingbirds placed strategically throughout. The watercolor effect gave the piece a surreal quality, made stronger by the transition into black and white on my arm, which was tattooed with the dark outline of a strong fortress, wrapping around my arm, stopping above my elbow. There was a dragon roaring from one of the top spires on the castle, a bright red burst of flame the only piece of color on that arm.
“Wow,” Jonah said, a little quieter as he admired the tattoo. “Does it mean anything?”
“It does,” I replied, already feeling my chest tighten. “I started it on the second anniversary of my mom’s passing. These flowers, lilies and roses, were my mom’s favorite flowers. I remember growing up and the house smelling like a fresh-cut garden every single day. The scent filled the air, and I loved it. I loved seeing the overflowing vases she would always keep around the house. And the ones outside would always attract hummingbirds.”
Jonah’s eyes drifted up from my tattoo to my eyes. “They’re beautiful…” he said, a touch of sadness in those blue eyes. “When did she pass?”
“It’s been five years now.” And the pain was still as raw as if it happened yesterday.
Some silence followed as Jonah continued to examine my tattoo, as if he wanted to memorize every little detail about them.
“And what’s this part of the tattoo mean?”
His fingers came up to lightly brush over my bicep, over the dark symmetrical lines of the castle walls. It was a flash of a touch, and it still hit me like a bolt of lightning.
“The castle and dragon represent the stories she’d always read to me as a kid. They were books I still sometimes read to this day.” It also came to represent my closed-off self, something I felt had grown worse over the years.