by Marie Sexton
But in the end, I do.
I imagine it’s his dark hair tangled around my fingers and his mouth on me and his hands hangin’ on tight to my hips. I wonder how it would feel to let him kiss me. And then I come like I haven’t done in years.
“Fuck!” It comes out almost a yell, and I know I sound pissed as hell.
“What’s wrong?” I look at the guy, and I immediately feel bad.
He looks embarrassed and a little bit sad. He thinks I’m disappointed.
I make myself smile again. After all it’s not his fault. “Nothin’ wrong, man.” I get my pants done up and make sure I keep smilin’.
“Just really needed that.”
That makes him smile again.
We leave the coffee shop. Feels like I should say somethin’, so I say, “Have a good night.” Before he can say anything back, I turn and walk away. Not toward the club. I’m walkin’ the other way, headed for the gas station, where my shift starts in twenty minutes.
Now I really let myself think about Zach. Can’t let this go on anymore. Never goin’ back to that store. Not ever gonna see him again. I know that’s what I need to do. Just gotta stop now, before I fall for him so fuckin’ hard I can’t ever give him up.
I tell myself that’s what I’m gonna do.
I know I’m full of shit. I know it’s already too late.
Zach…
I FELT bad when Angelo left. I hated feeling like he was disappointed in me. And I had to admit, I was starting to wonder if maybe he was right. For better or worse, I ended up having extra time to think that night.
Tom was forty minutes late.
“Hey, baby,” he said as soon he was in the door. He kissed me, then started undoing my shirt. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Don’t you want a drink or something?” I asked in annoyance, as he took off my shirt and started undoing his own. “I have wine.”
He grabbed me and pulled me against him, his hands going to my ass and squeezing hard. “No, baby. I just want you.”
“Do you have any interest in me, beyond sex?”
“Of course I do, baby. How can you ask that? I’m crazy about you.” He kissed me again. “I’m just so hot for you tonight, I can’t stand it. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
I wanted to push the issue. I wanted to make him spend time with me out of bed first. But as he kissed me more, I couldn’t help but respond to him. He was so good-looking, and his body was amazing. I wanted him. Even now. I hated myself for it a little bit, but my body didn’t care about my pride.
He kissed me more as he unbuttoned his pants, then took my hand and placed it on his erect cock.
“Zach, please don’t make me wait. I can’t stand it tonight. I need to come.”
“Tell me what you want,” I said in resignation, knowing as I said it that I would never hear him say it back.
“Your mouth.”
I dropped to my knees in front of him and pulled his pants down out of the way. I ran my tongue up the bottom of his shaft and around his head. Then I took him in my mouth as far as I could. He was rocking into me, and he grabbed my head with both hands.
“Baby, let me do it. Let me fuck your mouth.” I nodded. His grip tightened, and he started pumping in and out of my mouth. I kept one hand on the bottom of his shaft to keep him from gagging me. I got my pants undone, pulled my cock out with my free hand, and started stroking myself in time with his thrusts.
“Oh, baby. God, that’s good. You make me so fucking hot.”
Of course he was talking, another endless stream of meaningless words. His grip on my head was tight, and even with my hand holding him, he was slamming into my mouth pretty hard. But it was working for me too. Knowing he wanted me that much was a wonderful aphrodisiac, and I gripped my cock tighter, kept stroking, feeling my own orgasm growing closer.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Oh God.” He was panting hard.
When I glanced up at him, I could see a sheen of sweat on his face.
“That’s it, baby. Goddamn, your mouth is so sweet. I love to see those blue eyes while I fuck your mouth.” The look on his face was a little bit vulgar, very arrogant, and not at all pleasant. I closed my eyes again, pushed it out of my mind. “I’m close, baby. I’m gonna come soon.” I thought undiplomatically how this was the longest he had ever lasted with me. Too bad we hadn’t actually made it to the bedroom.
“Beat yourself faster, Zack. Faster.” I obliged, and he moaned, his fingers clenching in my hair. His thrusts started coming harder.
“Oh God, you make me hot, Zach. I can’t believe how hot you make me. I want to see you come. Do it, Zach. Do it now. Come for me, baby.” And without making any conscious decision to do it, I did, and when he saw it, he groaned, and then he came too. He held my head as far down on his shaft as I could go, and it felt like I was going to choke on all that wet saltiness squirting into my throat. I tried to pull back, but he was holding me too tight. I swallowed fast, feeling like I couldn’t breathe, hoping I wouldn’t gag, and still he held me there, until I pushed hard on his legs and pulled myself away, coughing.
“What’s your problem?” I gasped. I had managed to swallow it all, but my throat burned from it.
He pulled me up and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I just couldn’t stop.”
I pushed him away. “Whatever,” I managed to say, but my voice still sounded a little rough.
“Where’s that wine? Let me get you a glass.”
Wine didn’t seem like the thing to soothe my throat, but I didn’t complain. I had already opened the bottle anyway. I went into the bedroom to change my pants, since the ones I had on now had a big wet spot on the crotch. When I came out, he handed me a glass, and we sat down on the couch.
I sipped the wine and tried to figure out what I was feeling. He really did turn me on. It was like I couldn’t keep my body from responding to him. Still, I had to admit to myself that this wasn’t exactly what I had been hoping for when we first started seeing each other. Despite his words to the contrary, it was becoming more and more obvious that he was only in it for the sex. And the sex wasn’t even that good. I felt cheap. I felt used.
I felt like a fool.
I thought about the movie and why Angelo had picked it. That made me even more ashamed of what had just happened.
“Did you buy your ticket for Folk Fest yet?” I asked him.
“Not yet. First thing tomorrow, I promise.” He pointed to the table with the puzzle on it, sitting off to the side of the living room.
“Why’s that in here?”
“We moved it in here so we could watch the TV while we worked the puzzle.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Me and Ang.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t have sounded less interested. “Who’s Ang? Your sister?”
Seriously? I had told Tom about my sister Lauren, who lived in Chicago, and I had certainly mentioned Angelo plenty of times. It only proved how little he actually listened. And how little he cared.
If I had been a different man, I might have punched him. I wished for a minute that I was Angelo—that I could think fast and lash out with my words. Instead I closed my eyes, fought back my anger.
Suddenly I knew exactly what I was going to do.
I looked over at him. “Yeah, Ang is my sister,” I said as casually as I could. “She came by last night. I was telling her about us going to Folk Fest, and she decided to come too.” Obviously a lie. But I had a theory, and this was the test.
“Sure, baby. Whatever.”
“The thing is, I’m not really out with her.”
“So we can’t spend the weekend together?” He didn’t sound annoyed, exactly, but he didn’t quite sound sympathetic either.
“Of course we can. We just have to play it straight. It’s no big deal, right? We’ll still have fun. And it will give us a chance to get to know each other better.”
I got up and turned on some music, then sat down at the table and started working on the puzzle. He sat and watched me for a couple of minutes, then drained his glass and said, “Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
That, at least, I had no doubts about. I didn’t walk him to the door.
I finished the bottle of wine, catching a pleasant buzz in the process, then went in the bathroom and took a scalding hot shower. I washed it all away. The evidence of my activities with Tom, dried into my pubic hair. The taste of him in the back of my throat. All of my anger and bitterness and resentment. I let it all go. I didn’t hate him. But I sure as hell didn’t need him either. He was nothing to me.
It surprised me when I realized that.
The phone at the store was ringing the next morning, five minutes after I arrived.
“Bad news, Zach. We have this—”
I interrupted him. “You’re not coming.” It wasn’t even a question.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to—”
“Sure thing, Tom. See you later.”
It seemed like I should be upset, but I wasn’t. I was relieved. I knew now exactly where I stood. It felt great. I couldn’t wait to tell Angelo that Tom wasn’t going, and I hoped he was still willing to go with me. I knew we would have fun together.
I was surprised, though, when the start time for his shift came and went, and he wasn’t there. Angelo had never been late before. In fact he came in early more often than not. I wasn’t mad. I knew he would have a good reason.
He arrived twenty minutes late, and he barely looked at me when he came in.
“You’re late.” It wasn’t an accusation at all. It was more of a question.
“Yeah. So what?”
“So nothing. I just wondered if everything’s okay.”
“What the fuck do you care, Zach?”
I was taken aback by how angry he sounded. I was used to feeling two steps behind in my conversations with Angelo, but this was something else entirely. I had no idea what was going on.
“What’s wrong, Ang?”
For a minute he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at one of the displays. I could tell he was wound up tight. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight fists. Finally he said,
“This isn’t workin’, Zach.”
“What isn’t working?”
He finally looked at me. “This!” He practically spat the word at me, as he gestured around him. “You. Me. This fuckin’ job. I can’t do it anymore.”
“You’re quitting?” I felt like that was a terribly stupid question, but it was all I could come up with. My head was spinning.
He hesitated, like maybe he hadn’t really meant to say that and had to decide whether or not to take it back. But then he said, “Yeah. I’m quittin’.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t okay at all, actually, but I was too stunned to say anything else. I didn’t want him to quit. He was great at the store. The customers loved him. And we were friends. The thought of losing him was more upsetting than I would have expected.
He stayed there for a minute, looking at me. All the anger was gone now. He just looked sad. He pushed his hair out of his face, shoved his hands in his pockets, and said quietly, “See you ’round, Zach.”
He was at the door by the time I found my voice. “Angelo, wait!”
He stopped, halfway out the door but didn’t turn around.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I really don’t want you to go. I need you here. And I….” And I’ll miss you like crazy. But I didn’t say that part. “You know this place is going to fall apart without you.” I thought for a second he was going to say something to that, but he didn’t. “If there’s something going on, and you need time off, you can have it.” There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
“Anything you want, Ang.” He still wasn’t looking at me, but I knew he was listening. He was just staring at the ground. “Come back, though, when you can. Please.”
He stood there for a minute in the door. I waited. I was practically holding my breath.
And then he just walked away.
…Angelo
NORMALLY I get five hours of sleep between the gas station and the video store. Didn’t sleep at all last night, though. Spent all five hours agonizin’ over whether or not to go in today. Don’t even remember makin’ the decision to go. Must have, though, ’cause I find myself walkin’ in the door. Can’t even look at Zach. Don’t want him to be mad. Don’t want him to be all friendly and understandin’ either. Mostly, though, don’t want him to look in my eyes and see I’m so torn up over him that I can’t even fuckin’ think straight.
“You’re late.” He says it lightly, like it’s a question. Like maybe he doesn’t know for sure. ’Course he’s not mad. Almost wish he was.
“Yeah. So what?”
“So, nothing. I just wondered if everything’s okay.”
What can I say? No, man, everything is not okay. Not anymore. Not since last night. Not since I realized how I feel. I know he’ll never be able to love me like I love him. “What the fuck do you care, Zach?” I see that he’s confused and a little bit hurt, and I’m glad.
“What’s wrong, Ang?” Why’s he gotta be so nice about it?
Make this all so much easier if he would just be a dick back to me.
This part, though, I thought out already. Turned the words over and over in my head last night. “This isn’t workin’, Zach.”
“What isn’t working?”
“This!” And when I turn to look at him, the hurt expression on his face is almost more than I can stand. “You. Me. This fuckin’ job. I can’t do it anymore.”
“You’re quitting?”
Yeah, I thought about those words all night. Thing is, I never really intended to say them. Can’t take ’em back now, though. And maybe it’s for the best. He’s still watchin’ me, lookin’ like he’s just been sucker-punched, which I guess isn’t too far off. “Yeah. I’m quittin’.”
“Okay.” I know his simple answer isn’t ’cause he doesn’t care.
I know he’s still tryin’ to catch up. I gotta get out of here before he does.
“See you ’round, Zach.”
I’m halfway out the door when he says, “Angelo, wait!”
I stop. Know I shouldn’t. But I do.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I really don’t want you to go. I need you here. And I—” He stops short, like he almost was gonna say somethin’ but thought better of it. “You know this place is going to fall apart without you.” I smile a little bit when he says that. Can’t help it. My back’s to him, though. He doesn’t see. “If there’s something going on and you need time off, you can have it.”
He stops for a second, then says, real quiet, “Anything you want, Ang.” And I’m tryin’ real hard all of a sudden not to cry. “Come back, though, when you can. Please?”
I want to go to him. I want to put my arms around him and have him comfort me like I’m a little kid. I want to just cry like a fuckin’ baby.
Clearly not an option.
Instead I just walk away.
I go back home. Crawl back into bed and sleep the whole day away. Wake up feelin’ lots better but have to hurry to make it to the gas station in time for my shift. Night shift mostly consists of sittin’ on my ass, starin’ out the window. I have a lot of time to think ’bout Zach.
Seemed like a good idea this mornin’ to cut all ties. Get away and just forget all about him and that stupid store. I been alone my whole life. Never intended to change that. Thing is, it feels wrong now. Guess I’m sorta accustomed to him, after workin’ with him every day and hangin’ at his house at night. Feels good bein’ with him, even if what he feels isn’t what I feel. Zach doesn’t look down on me for bein’ a dropout or a fuckup.
Never acts like he’s better than me. Never acts condescendin’ or assumes he knows stuff I don’t. Treats me better than I’m used to bein’ treated.
And crazy as I am over him, I realize part of the reason I want him so much is because he isn’t attracted to me. Met a whole lotta guys over the years who only wanted to get me into bed. Felt sometimes like that was all I was good for. Zach’s the first person who treated me like a friend, not just a potential lay. Means a lot to me.
After my shift I go home and go back to bed but wake up earlier than usual. Not used to sleepin’ so much. I almost go in for my shift at A to Z. Walk all the way to the store, stand there starin’ at the door for a long time. Chicken out in the end, though. Not sure what to say to Zach.
I go back home and spend the day sittin’ ’round my apartment thinkin’ ’bout him. Not sure why I been makin’ this so hard. It’s simple, really. There’s no reason to run away. Just ’cause I finally accepted I’ve fallen for him doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.
Maybe eventually Zach will want to be with me. Maybe he won’t.
Maybe I’ll quit feelin’ like this. Doesn’t matter.
Never really had a friend like him. No way in the world am I lettin’ him go now.
I check the clock. I know Zach’ll just be gettin’ home. I stop by A to Z on my way to his house, pick up a movie.
Can’t believe how nervous I am ringin’ his doorbell. He opens the door, and I make myself look up at him. He’s smilin’ at me like I’m fuckin’ Santa Claus finally brought him the damn pony he’s been askin’ for.
“I got you curry,” he says.
And for the first time since I knew him, I think I’m the one tryin’ to catch up. All I can say is, “Thanks, Zach.”