by Trina Solet
"That would depend on how many beers he's had. Pete is my roommate from college. As two nerds, we had a lot in common except for one thing. He's straight. I was sure we would drift apart after graduation, but he made sure to keep in touch. One drunken night in our dorm room after my grandparents died, I told him all about myself and how I didn't have any living family and few friends. He said he would make sure I always had at least one old college buddy I could count on."
"He sounds like a good guy. Did you have a hopeless, unrequited crush on him?" Colin asked, leaning forward and staring at Wes accusingly.
Instead of saying anything, Wes put up a picture of Pete on one of the monitors. There he was in all his glory – glasses, beard, baseball cap, beer belly and all.
"Your friend Pete is Peter Jackson! Or is that Michael Moore? I have trouble telling them apart."
"Still jealous?" Wes asked him.
"Jealous? What are you talking about?" Colin said waving his hand dismissively then he frowned. "You're not into big, scruffy bears, are you?"
"No," Wes said as he showed him another picture. "That's the two of us on Halloween. A few people nicknamed us Bigfoot and Yeti. Pete talked me into dressing the part," Wes said as Colin cracked up.
"It's perfect! Put that on my phone. It's going to be my screensaver," he demanded.
Since Wes was basically unrecognizable in the costume, he indulged him. He remembered that the costume had been incredibly hot and scratchy, but the night had been fun.
Colin showed him a picture on his phone.
"That's me as a mummy," he said.
"How do you know? That could be anyone," Wes said since he was completely wrapped up.
"Just take my word for it. We ripped up an old sheet, and Tim wrapped me up and poked me with safety pins a million times. Our mom was working late. We turned off all the lights, and I jumped out and scared her. She threw her purse at me. Got me right in the nose. Then she recognized my voice going, 'Ow, ow, ow.' So she consoled me and yelled at me. Tim got the classic, 'You should know better.' He always got the worst of it, but I was the real troublemaker." Colin started out smiling at the memory, but then his smile faded. "I wish I had been a good kid. I should have made my mom's life easier, made her happy."
"I'm sure you did," Wes told him. He could see tears in Colin's eyes.
Colin looked at him like he wanted to believe him, but he just couldn't. He probably felt guilty for every little prank and misbehavior that didn't matter in the least. He was burdened with small transgressions that his mother had forgiven and forgotten as soon as she looked into Colin's eyes. Wes was as sure of that as if he had been there to see it.
It felt good to sit with Colin in the evening as it got dark outside. Usually it was already night when he got home. There was something sweet about being with someone as darkness fell. Maybe it was the assurance of not being alone. It did come at a price though. Colin got to choose what they watched. Wes always vetoed the horror movies. That took care of Colin's top contenders. So it was 80's action movies again. It was a little disturbing that Colin could quote so much of the dialogue.
As the credits rolled at the end of the movie, Colin muted the TV. During the movie, Colin had shifted little by little until he was leaning against Wes. The length of his body along Wes's side was hot and tempting. Wes deliberately stilled his hands and willed himself not to turn to Colin and lay him flat, not to spread his legs and fit himself between them so he could grind into him. He took a slow, deep breath. Colin noticed his struggle for self-control.
"You're fighting this too hard. This can't just be about my age and how much sex I've had and the even more sex that I haven't had," Colin said.
"It's not."
"Then tell me about it. You told Pete your life story, why not me."
"So you are jealous of Pete."
"Whatever. Talk."
Wes considered it and realized that he wanted Colin to know and understand.
"Are you sure you want to hear about it?"
"I'm a terrible listener. But yes, I do."
Wes had been raised by his grandparents while his mother went in and out of mental institutions. On top of her mental issues, she was also a drug user. It might have been her way of medicating herself, but it only worsened her condition.
Wes's grandparents were already middle-aged by the time they had his mother. Having already given up on having a child, they were surprised and overjoyed when they finally had a baby daughter. They felt blessed until she started having episodes in her teen years. She often ran away to come back unsure of where she had been. This went on for years.
When she was in her twenties, she came home with a new, unexplained change in her. Her parents noticed that her belly had grown. She was pregnant, but she refused to believe it. She was convinced that she had a tumor and wanted it cut out. During the rest of her pregnancy, she was committed to an institution so she wouldn't hurt herself or her unborn baby. She couldn't name the father of her baby of course.
Once the child was born, Wes's grandparents took custody of him. They named him Wesley. Though they didn't see it that way at first, eventually they looked at Wes the same way they had looked at their daughter when she came so unexpectedly. Wes's grandmother often told him, "You're our second blessing." She whispered it to him while she stroked his hair before he went to sleep. But Wes felt more like a curse. He had stolen the peace of their last years. He did everything he could not to make them worry about him, but for the rest of their lives they were afraid that he would end up like his mother.
As he listened, Colin guessed that Wes lived with the same fear.
"You're afraid you'll end up like her," he said.
"I was more worried when I was younger. But so far so good."
"That explains so much."
"I don't need to be explained," Wes objected.
"Yes, you do. You're afraid to be happy with someone because you think that one day you'll start acting crazy."
"There is a time bomb in my genes."
"Your jeans, mmmm," Colin said as he looked down and grinned.
He had turned a deadly serious conversation prurient without batting an eye. But really he was a good listener.
"What happened to your mom?" Colin asked, turning serious again.
"She fell down a flight of stairs and died."
"I'm sorry. Did you know her?"
"Not really. My grandparents never allowed her to be alone with me. They were afraid she would hurt me. Before I was born, she tried to cut me out of her belly." Wes paused. "When I think back to the look in her eyes, I'm not sure she even knew I was her child. Since she didn't know what I was, a tumor or a baby, I wouldn't expect her to know who I was either."
Colin hugged him. He said nothing just held on to Wes tightly. Holding his breath, Wes resisted hugging him back. This was exactly what he was trying to prevent, this disquieting closeness. Feeling the warmth of Colin's body fully against him both calmed and aroused him. Colin was very still. Wes could tell he wasn't coming on to him. He just wanted Wes to feel his strength and take as much as he needed.
Chapter 8
That picture of Wes dressed as The Abominable Snowman made Colin want to check his phone every second. There was Wes under all that white fur, looking stoic and a little bewildered, or maybe drunk. Every time Colin looked at it while he was at work, it made him smile. He liked seeing proof that Wes had a playful side especially after hearing about his sad life. He wished Wes didn't always keep himself under wraps around Colin. They did have fun at the karaoke place. That was a positive sign of things to come. What Wes told him about himself was even more important. That wasn't exactly a fun time, but it meant a lot.
It was probably supposed to be a warning, but there wasn't a chance in hell Colin was going to give up on Wes. All Wes did was let him know what he was fighting, and Colin was ready for a fight.
Even when they were doing nothing, Colin was happy to be with Wes. It surprised him that he
felt so good hanging out with someone who was so quiet and serious. He would have never in a million years guessed that big, blond, and silent was his type. Who would have thought it? Colin had accidentally stumbled over the one man for him, and he was even living with him. If only there was any sign of thawing from Wes. But it wasn't really that he was cold. He was closed off, and Colin now knew one more reason why Wes refused to get pulled in by Colin's personal vortex. How the hell did they go from here's three hundred now bend over to this complete sexual standstill?
As Colin was mulling over the conundrum of Wes and wiping a table, something reflected in the diner window caught his eye. Someone was lingering behind him. Even without turning, he recognized the reddish blond hair and the sneer Brad put on just for him.
Colin turned to face him. "What the fuck do you want?"
"Not to eat in this dump, that's for sure."
"Where the fuck do you get off? You're a wannabe pimp. And I have a real job now so go find someone else to pimp out," Colin told him.
"Real job?" Brad said. "This? Cleaning grease off tables?"
"It's better than anything you have to offer."
"You think you're too good for that kind of shit? You're just too chicken. You don't want Tim to know what you really are. He still thinks you're his sweet little baby brother."
"Fuck off, Brad. I'm working," Colin told him.
Brad looked around with a disgusted expression and swaggered his way out.
A few minutes later, Wes stopped by to walk home with Colin. Brad had cleared out just in time.
Colin didn't like that Brad brought Tim into it. If he knew what was good for him, Brad wouldn't start anything with Tim, not even long distance. Brad just had to say one bad word about Colin, and Tim was likely to come at him like a freight train. Of course he might come after Colin right after that. Seriously, lighting a fire under Tim was the worst thing for all of them. Colin wished he could be sure that Brad knew that.
Though Wes let him fret and stew over Tim and Brad on their walk home, Colin's preoccupied state of mind didn't go unnoticed.
"Did you have a bad day?" Wes asked him as they hung up their jackets by the front door.
"Just a nasty visitor. That guy I told you about who kicked me out for not wanting to sell myself."
"What did he want?"
"To be a jerk. Maybe he thought after a taste of homelessness I might have changed my mind. Whatever. I told him where to shove it."
"Why were you living with someone like that?"
"Tim and I couldn't afford to be picky. Anyone who let us have a room or two was a good enough roommate. There was our drunk uncle. We lived with him for a while, but he had trouble controlling his temper especially around me. Then we moved in with this girl who was all hot for Tim, but kept hinting that I should get lost. At one point Tim was pretty sure she was trying to get herself pregnant. Like Tim needed that. So we ditched the crazy girl and ended up at Brad's. He was Tim's good buddy. Tim didn't know he was a creep."
"And he still doesn't know because you refuse to tell him."
"It's not like Brad is dangerous or something. He's just a sleazeball. Maybe he wants to build a porn empire or something."
"Porn?"
"First he wanted me to do stuff over webcam," Colin told him.
"It seems to me you would have been safer doing that than going home with strangers," Wes lectured him.
"I never did that," Colin said defensively.
"You came home with me," Wes reminded him.
"You offered. And you were all big and blond, so my dick said yes."
"Next time, don't let your dick answer."
"When a guy like you offers himself up, my dick does the talking," Colin told him.
"And what happened with your uncle?" Wes wanted to know as he made them grilled swiss and ham sandwiches.
"Uncle Hal was a drunk. It only got worse after our mom died. When I was still in high school, he let us live with him, but he didn't like it. I tried to stay away from him, give him his space."
Despite Colin's best efforts to steer clear of him, more and more Uncle Hal looked at him with mean eyes. It was a look that mixed disgust with rage. It was a look that promised a beating if Colin gave him any kind of excuse.
Colin kept his mouth shut around his uncle like he never had before in his life. Partly it was for his own sake, but it was also because of Tim. Living with their uncle took some pressure off Tim. As long as they lived with Uncle Hal, Tim could save some money and maybe go back to school. If Tim knew that trouble was brewing and that their uncle hated Colin, they would have to move out. Tim would be stuck working even harder to pay the rent, and going back to school would be just a fantasy.
To avoid his uncle, Colin stayed out of the house as much as he could. But Tim didn't like him roaming the streets. Colin couldn't tell him it was for the best. He did try to put his time to good use. Hoping to help Tim earn enough money to get them out of there, Colin picked up as many odd jobs as he could. He couldn't earn much. In the meantime, their uncle's drinking got worse. It got so that Tim saw for himself that Uncle Hal had it in for Colin.
"I'll get us out of here," he promised Colin. But he couldn't get it done soon enough. One night Uncle Hal snapped.
"He tried to smash my head in with a booze bottle because I had the TV turned up too loud," Colin told Wes. "Tim stopped him. He wanted to kill Uncle Hal. I barely managed to talk him down. That's when we moved out. We struggled to make ends meet after that, but it beats getting your head caved in."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Wes said.
"When we lived with Uncle Hal, I was just starting to figure out I was gay. Call me dense. But I swear that Uncle Hal figured it out too. I think that's why he had it in for me." Colin wasn't sure about that. "Maybe I was just paranoid."
As he was trying to sort out facts from suspicions, Colin noticed the very grim look on Wes's face.
"Are you doing an impression of my brother? Because that's who you look like right now," Colin said.
"I don't like that someone tried to hurt you," Wes said simply.
"I'm still in one piece so you can relax."
"Of course," Wes said, letting go of his anger. "I'm glad your brother was there for you. It makes me think that your parents must have been good people."
"They were the best parents I ever had," Colin joked, but he couldn't escape the sadness even the best memories of them still carried. "Even after we lost our dad, I didn't know we could lose our mom too. I believed we were safe from any more bad things happening." Colin thought of it as extortion, buying protection. He forgot that with extortion, you have to keep paying. He didn't realize it even when their mom got sick. "When my mom went into the hospital, I thought all we had to worry about was the hospital bill, not that she would never come out of there. I was so confused when they told us she was gone. I knew they made a mistake. I barged into her room. They were unhooking her from all the machines, but I still didn't believe it. I felt this shaking, but I was so out of it, I didn't know what it was. It was Tim. He had grabbed hold of me, and he was shaking with sobs. That's how I knew it was true, because Tim was crying, and the only other time I had seen him cry was when our dad died."
Wes grabbed Colin's hand, startling him. Then he startled him even more by pulling him into a hug. In his life Colin had never felt anything so good as being held by him.
Chapter 9
It was the lull between lunch and dinner. Becky had stopped by, and Colin brought her a plate of fries and sat down with her. While Becky munched on fries, Colin was bitching to her about how he wasn't getting any traction with Wes. They had gotten closer in some ways, but Colin was still sleeping alone.
"You should just climb into bed with him and sit on his dick. Then he won't be able to reject you," Becky told him as she dipped a fry in mustard then ketchup.
"You give the worst advice. Is that what you would do?" he asked her.
With a mouth full
of fries, she nodded.
"I forbid you to make any more decisions. Ever," Colin told her. Actually, he was pretty sure her advice would work, but it wouldn't get him what he wanted. What Colin wanted, just as much as Wes's body, was his heart. Wes's heart seemed so frozen, but Colin knew a fire burned inside him. Colin just wasn't sure it would ever burn for him. Though he lived with him, Colin felt like he was always standing outside the door yelling, "Let me in! Let me in!"
As it got dark, Colin noticed that the weather outside the diner windows was getting worse every minute. Good thing Becky had already gone home. With the thick snow and strong, lashing winds, few people were coming in. The manager of Penny's decided to close up early so the staff could get home. Not having far to go, Colin wasn't worried. He still took a deep breath before he stepped outside and braced himself against the blizzard. Snowflakes were almost too small to see. Driven hard by the wind, they were whipped up, blinding him and pricking at his exposed skin. By the time he stepped into the lobby, his face was frozen. Walking into the apartment, Colin found Wes was putting on his jacket.
"You're not going anywhere in this weather," Colin told him.
"Was that an order?" Wes asked as he got out of his jacket and hung it up again.
"Yes. Where were you going anyway?" Colin wanted to know. He wasn't in a hurry to take off his own jacket until he warmed up a little.
"I was coming to get you," Wes said. Colin could tell that he didn't like admitting it.
"Nice," Colin said and let Wes help him out of his jacket. He kept his gloves on for a little longer and slapped his hands together.
"Do you need better gloves?" Wes asked him.
"No. These are good. They're Tim's old ones." Tim had forced them on him while he bought cheap ones for himself after Colin lost his. Replacing them was like saying Tim's gloves weren't good enough. That was out of the question.
Wes nodded and smiled. He seemed to understand without any sort of explanation why Colin had to keep the gloves Tim gave him.