More Than Just Friends

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More Than Just Friends Page 6

by Max Hudson


  "Yeah, I missed being here," Lance said with a nod, looking over at Mrs. James. "I guess I was too busy most of the time, but I feel bad now. Just because I like going out doesn't mean I don't like you guys."

  Stefan's mother laughed now. "I didn't assume you meant it that way. I know how much you enjoy going out all the time, seeing more people, being around noise."

  Stefan nodded. "Yeah, it's you."

  "Oh, I thought you might have been insulted," Lance replied.

  "No, you're just like that," she said dismissively. "It's who you are. I wish Stefan was more outgoing like you are, a bit more normal."

  Stefan scoffed. "As if you do anything with your free time except craft and watch shows."

  "Well, then do as I say and not as I do. Didn't Lance turn out a fine young man?" she asked.

  Stefan was blushing again. "Yeah, he did."

  It was odd, now that they were talking, they seemed to be talking at each other's expense. But it didn't feel like an argument. They were talking quietly, smiling, neither disproving what the other said about them. Usually people didn't take these things in good humor, but it seemed that in this family it was the norm to be so relaxed about criticism.

  As they sank back into silence, Lance wondered if someone so blunt and honest could drop hints. He felt like Stefan's hand on his leg had been a hint, and his suggestions. Maybe it was just being polite? If he wanted Lance in his room, Stefan would probably say so. Lance had already offered to join Stefan and been rejected. He wanted to ask again, but he felt he was imposing a bit too much already.

  Stefan had protected him and helped him move out. They had let him into their house without asking any questions. They had set up a bed for him in Mrs. James's private crafting room, and they were feeding him at their own expense. Beggars can't be choosers.

  And it wasn't like sleeping together meant anything. It was just some experimentation, right? Just a bit of fun. It wasn't like Stefan had to start going out with him just because they had sex and liked it. It didn't need to end the friendship, or change it. Even though Lance had wanted it to change very, very much.

  As they finished eating, Mrs. James went and collected all three plates. "Let me get these washed and put away," she said, sounding a bit more tired than she seemed comfortable with.

  "Are you sure?" Lance asked. "You have both done a lot for me already. And I can wash some plates if that needs doing. It's not a lot."

  "Nah, I'll do the dishes," Stefan said. "You're the guest. Go make yourself comfortable. You want to have a shower? I find a shower makes me feel better after a weird day."

  Mrs. James raised an eyebrow. "I thought I said I would be doing the dishes?"

  "You've had a long day too," Stefan insisted. "I haven't had it so bad. I can wash some dishes."

  Lance wasn't about to deny that he was tired, and it seemed Stefan was resolute. As Stefan and Mrs. James argued over the dishes, he went to the craft room. The soft, freshly made bed smelled of a flowery detergent and looked downy and inviting. He needed to have a shower; about that, Stefan was right. So he went straight for his bags and found a pair of clean pajamas. He would need to sort the laundry later too. There were way too many dirty clothes. Knowing Stefan and Mrs. James, they would insist on doing Lance's laundry for him too. He would wait until they were not around and get all his laundry handled in one go.

  In the shower, he eyed the controls. Half the time it was impossible to operate a shower you haven't used before. Thankfully, this was the other half of the time. It had a fairly easy to read temperature and pressure dial set. He started the shower, and by the time he was undressed, the water was running hot already.

  Getting ready for bed, he couldn't help but wonder if Stefan regretted last night. Or was just trying and didn't care anymore. Lance cared though. Lance felt like Stefan was someone to him. Someone he wanted to be with. To play with. To date. They had been friends for so long that Lance had developed feelings for Stefan. The sex had just cemented the love he had been quietly growing all these years. He wished he had noticed sooner. He wished he hadn't spent so much time chasing girls who weren't right for him, he wished he hadn't avoided the one man who was right for him, just for those girls.

  It all made sense in hindsight. Then again, it usually does. Now, in hindsight, Lance was realizing that his emotions, his love for Stefan, was his own problem to deal with.

  Stefan had gone dancing with him, but just as a friend. Stefan had sex with him, but just to try it out. Lance had to deal with that. Stefan was probably dealing with his own, entirely different emotions regarding their friendship. At least they were still friends after all that. Some people would not be able to sustain such a friendship. He should be grateful.

  Freshly showered, he saw that Mrs. James had already gone to bed, and Stefan had changed into a dressing gown and was sitting on the sofa, watching an episode of some TV show which Lance had never seen before and couldn't care less about. Though, it was a chance to be alone with Stefan, and Lance would relish it.

  "Can I sit with you?" Lance asked Stefan.

  "Uh, sure," Stefan replied, flushing a little and moving aside, making some room among the many pillows, which had appeared from somewhere. "Mom likes the pillows when guests are around," Stefan explained.

  Lance nodded and sat down beside Stefan. It was nice. Even if it wasn't all he wanted, it was nice. Stefan clearly didn't want to talk, but it felt a little tense this time. Lance leaned over and rested his head on Stefan's shoulder. At least Stefan didn't push him away this time.

  Sitting on the couch, he couldn't pay attention to the show. Stefan smelled amazing. He looked amazing. He might be quiet and shy and sweet, but those were the sort of things Lance liked in women, and it seemed he preferred men like this too. It was such a shame that Stefan seemed to be losing interest in their relationship already.

  As the show ended, Stefan passed Lance the remote. "You can watch what you want."

  "Nah, I'm just chilling. You can choose what to watch," Lance insisted.

  "I'm going to bed," Stefan said, gently patting Lance's shoulder as he moved.

  "Oh, okay." Lance sat up, letting Stefan stand. He watched as Stefan stretched and made his way to his bedroom.

  "Goodnight," Stefan said, waiting in his doorway, making eye contact.

  It was so tempting to try and follow him in. It was so exciting to think of walking up to Stefan, kissing him, and falling into bed together. Lance didn't do it. Stefan smiled as he shut his bedroom door. There was a click as it locked, then another click as he apparently remembered he would not lock the door and subsequently unlocked it.

  After a few more seconds staring at the ads on the TV, Lance yawned. He needed rest.

  As he walked to the spare room door, his eyes lingered on Stefan's door. Stefan didn't want him in there. In the spare room, Lance got under the covers, feeling how cool the sheets were. He would rather they were warmed by Stefan's body. He would rather be able to roll over to Stefan and nestle into his armpit, feeling those strong arm muscles hold him in place, protective and possessive.

  Lance took one of the two pillows and pulled it into his arms, embracing it gently, imagining it was Stefan. Lance usually slept alone, so he wasn't sure why he hated it so much tonight. Perhaps because the alternative was such a wonderful thought. It was easy to sleep alone when the alternative is lying in bed with someone strange, or annoying, or who snores. Sleeping with Stefan had been the most peaceful rest Lance had experienced while still in bed with another human being.

  He buried himself under the covers, holding the pillow so tightly that it was compressed down to the size and hardness of Stefan's actual arm, and tried to go to sleep. He knew that making an effort to sleep was counterproductive, but he couldn't think of anything else. He was painfully aware of his own wakefulness. Until he wasn't.

  Chapter Ten

  Stefan's mind was running wild all night. Now he was sure that the previous night was just a mistake. Lanc
e was straight, after all. They had just been lonely and emotional, that was all. Everyone probably tried something like this from time to time. How would Stefan know what was normal or not, after all? He was hardly social. Maybe extroverted people like Lance felt that these things were just normal aspects of friendship. There were whole worlds out there beyond Stefan's experience.

  Hell, even he was beyond his own experience. When it came to sexuality, he wasn't even sure what he was. He wanted to experience that over again. He opened a porn site on his phone and looked for men giving blowjobs. Perhaps it was that he was gay. Or bisexual. Or perhaps it was just an itch he needed to scratch.

  As he scrolled through, he didn't feel anything much. It was like he was just scrolling social media. Nothing drew him in, and, even though he tried his best to massage himself to erection, he felt almost numb as he did. He just wasn't into it. Loading video after video, he felt confused again. This wasn't what he wanted. Not want he needed. It wasn't about any of these guys, or about the male body after all. Looking at other people wasn't the same. The sex wasn't what he was missing. He was missing Lance. He wanted to be close, even if there was no sex or anything else involved.

  He closed the tabs and opened Lance's social media profiles instead. He didn't even want to masturbate any more. He just scrolled through Lance's pictures and posts, wondering if Lance would want to be closer to him some day, perhaps be his boyfriend.

  Stefan had never really wanted to date anyone. He had never really cared about such things. He'd had a few girlfriends, he'd had sex, but it had always been more a case of going with the flow. He had never chased anyone. He had never asked anyone out, or initiated sex. Perhaps that was why, despite being a fairly good looking young man, he had so little experience. And he didn't mind. Not most of the time.

  He minded now.

  The next morning he woke up to the smell of his mother frying eggs. Stepping outside, the sound of the sizzling pan echoed in his ears, but nothing else. The house was fairly silent, as always. Lance wasn't up yet, or if he was, he was still hiding in the spare room. Stefan knocked on the door.

  There was a little grumble. Stefan decided that Lance was probably still resting. Heading into the kitchen, he hugged his mother. "Eggs on toast?" he asked.

  She laughed a little. "Sure thing. If you make the toast."

  Stefan nodded and went to get some bread.

  "You know, it's nice that you help out, but you really need to wake up early enough to make your own breakfast," she said.

  Stefan nodded again. "I know." Not that he would ever manage to wake up as early as his mom. She was some sort of early morning superhuman.

  "So, who is going to be your Valentine? The girl you went to the dance with?" she asked as she turned the heat off, leaving the eggs to finish in the warm oil.

  Stefan felt a heat spread across his cheeks. The toast sprung into the air, making him jump. He fumbled to get both slices out and on his plate. "I don't have a Valentine," he finally replied.

  "Oh, did the dance not go well, then? I assumed since you didn't come home that night—”

  "I didn't go with a girl. I was with Lance," Stefan replied, trying to hide his blushing face by overly focusing on buttering the toast.

  His mother seemed a little surprised, then burst out laughing.

  Stefan said nothing. He wasn't sure if she was laughing because she knew, or because she had no idea. He didn't want to let her find out if she didn't already know.

  "So you two just went together and hung out, eh?" she asked. "I'd gotten my hopes up there."

  Stefan shrugged, taking his plate over to the eggs and placing one on each slice of toast. "I don't know what to say. I was with Lance."

  "No, I should have guessed," she said. "Like you'd finally get a date after trying for so many years. No offense, but it was a bit out of character."

  "A date?" came a voice from the kitchen door.

  Lance was standing there, hair a total mess, slight bluish lines under both eyes, pajama buttons partially undone from a night of restlessness. He looked amazing.

  "I thought Stefan took a girl on a date for that dance," Stefan's mom said with a chuckle. "I should have known better. Even both times he had a girlfriend, they never went on dates."

  Stefan felt the heat returning to his cheeks. Lance seemed surprised. He hadn't known. Of course he hadn't. It wasn't like they compared notches or anything.

  "Wait, you've never gone on a date?" Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. "I always thought someone as good looking as you was wrecking it out there."

  "I've had girlfriends, I just, I dunno, I don't like the whole public romantic stuff," Stefan said, putting his plate down on the kitchen counter and preparing to eat it there.

  He heard his mother cracking more eggs into the pan. "One or two, Lance?" she asked.

  "Uh, two," Lance replied.

  "Good boy," she said as she made her way to the toaster.

  "So...you've had girlfriends, too, but never gone on dates? How does that work?" Lance asked, pouring himself a glass of milk from the jug on the side, which was still cold enough to have condensation drops on the outside of it.

  "I just didn't date. Girls asked me out, so we sort of hung out and did stuff and then both went our separate ways when we got bored," Stefan explained.

  "Then they didn't ask you out, because you didn't go out," Lance said with a chuckle.

  Stefan just shrugged. "Don't you get on my back too. I don't feel like dating, okay? When I do, I'll try."

  Lance's face seemed to fall a little. "Oh, okay then."

  "Perhaps you ought to go out with each other for Valentine's too," Stefan's mother said with a chuckle as she handed Lance his eggs on toast.

  The two young men fell silent, both focusing on eating, as Stefan's mother took her plate to the front room, turning on some morning show to watch as she ate.

  "I don't get why it is such a big deal if I don't want to date," Stefan said as he placed his empty plate in the sink. "Everyone is different, right? Does it matter if I don't want to see anyone for Valentine’s Day?"

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," Lance replied, cheeks flushing. "I just... It doesn't match the idea I had in my head. I knew you weren't romantic, but I thought you were playing the field, having loads of girls, that stuff."

  "Never been interested in it," Stefan insisted. "It isn't insulting, just frustrating. I mean, I wouldn't mind going out for dinners and stuff, but all the fluff round the edges is stressful, you know? Not everyone enjoys it."

  "Well, I could take you out for dinner," Lance mused. "I still have a reservation at Gianni and Pedro, so it would go to waste otherwise."

  Stefan froze a little. He wasn't sure what to reply. He felt embarrassed. On the one hand, it was true that he hated public outings, the very idea of dates, and would have never chosen to go out for dinner with Lance. On the other hand, it was Lance, and Stefan deeply wanted to make Lance happy.

  "I paid for the reservation," Lance insisted. "I mean, I might get the money back if I cancel, but probably not."

  Stefan nodded. "Okay, I'll go. It's not a date. Just a meal and stuff."

  Lance smiled. "Sure thing. It's Gianni and Pedro, so you're gonna like it anyway. Ever been?"

  "Nah," Stefan replied with a chuckle. "I don't go out much. What do they do?"

  "Fusion. Mostly Italian stuff, but some French, some Mexican, some American. Really good," Lance explained.

  Well, at least Lance was right that Stefan enjoyed that sort of stuff. It was a shame it involved going out on Valentine’s Day. But Lance and good food would make it worthwhile.

  Stefan was just glad his mother had dropped the subject of him getting a "proper" girlfriend. He was getting tired of it. She had been going on about it since his first girlfriend left him. She was baffled that he wasn't particularly hurt, that he didn't want her back, that he wasn't dating anyone else or hitting the town. She never had understood her son. She loved him dearly
, and wanted the best for him, but she didn't understand.

  He never had the words to explain it to her. To explain how uninterested he was in romance and sex. How it wasn't even a matter of aversion or disgust, a matter of morals or preferences. He just didn't want to unless it was for someone else's sake. And how was he supposed to want to date when he didn't even want to kiss a girl?

  Well, he did want to date. He wanted to date Lance, but that seemed to be out of the question now. So, he may as well carry on as before, like nothing had even happened. He went to get his bag with his folders.

  When Stefan emerged, his mother had left for work, and Lance was already lying, stretched out on the sofa, watching the morning cartoons.

  "You got classes today?" Lance asked, looking over the back of the sofa.

  "Yeah," Stefan replied. "You?"

  "Nah, nothing," Lance said. "Well, maybe in the afternoon. I'll double check."

  "Best do," Stefan agreed. He wanted to get going, but it was hard to make himself move. He just wanted to stay there, watching Lance, but that would be weird.

  "Looking forward to our date?" Lance asked.

  Stefan laughed a little. "Is it a date?"

  "If you want it to be," Lance replied.

  "Maybe," Stefan said, feeling nervous again.

  It would be nice to go out for dinner with Lance. If the reservation money couldn't be gotten back, then it would be okay, probably. He wasn't sure whether it was the smart thing to do. He was already building his hopes up after only a few words.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to—” Lance began before stopping himself. He was flushing a little.

  Stefan shook his head. "It's just... Are you sure you wanna date me?"

  "Maybe. I like you," Lance replied. "Is there any harm in seeing where it goes?"

  Stefan wasn't sure if Lance was being honest or not. It was probably just a joke. After all, Lance was healing. He had pulled away from Stefan a few times now. Or maybe Lance wasn't sure of his own feelings. Stefan didn't like it. He usually didn't mind someone treating him as some sort of social experiment, a way of working through their own problems. However, Stefan actually loved Lance, and every time Lance pulled close or pushed away it was hurting. If this kept happening, before long, Stefan's heart would be torn in two.

 

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