Something Like Spring

by Jay Bell

  There it was. An ultimatum. If you want to stay here, you’ll go to church. Simple as that. No matter what Michelle said, that was the deal. Maybe they wouldn’t openly state the reason for sending him away later, but they would find some other pretense.

  Jason heard the front door open, saw Caesar poke his head in the living room and take in the scene before making a face of mock terror. Then he retreated. If Jason was sent back to the group home, dating Caesar would become much more difficult. Jason didn’t have a car, and not all foster placements were in Houston. Even if Caesar were willing to pick him up from time to time, they wouldn’t see each other every day. Not like they did now.

  From next to him, Michelle stopped tapping the file and huffed. “Mrs. Hubbard—”

  “I didn’t think of it like that,” Jason interrupted. “I know you tried explaining it to me before, but I didn’t understand. Now that I do, I’d be happy to go to church with you.”

  Michelle turned to him in transparent disbelief, but he ignored her. Mrs. Hubbard remained skeptical too.

  “Do you mean that, Jason?”

  He nodded. “I’m not used to being wanted. Sometimes the idea scares me. That’s silly, I know, but…”

  “It’s not silly,” Mrs. Hubbard said, the ice leaving her voice. “You’re wanted here! This is your home!”

  Jason hadn’t seen his home since Child Protective Services took him away from his mother, but he smiled as if relieved anyway. Michelle went through some formalities next, her tones much more muted. He felt guilty about that but hid his feelings until he was walking Michelle to her car. Even then he kept his back to the house so his face couldn’t be seen.

  “Thanks for throwing me to the wolves,” Michelle said, looking more puzzled than angry.

  “I know,” Jason said. “I’m sorry. The thing is, I want to stay here, and me sitting through some boring sermon for an hour every week is a small price to pay.”

  “You don’t have to,” Michelle said. “Foster care is never about changing yourself to please anyone.”

  “I won’t change. I promise. I’ll wear earplugs while in church or something.”

  Michelle remained tense. “Well, if you have second thoughts and need someone to fight for you, I wouldn’t mind another go at Mrs. Hubbard.”

  “She’s a lot of fun, huh?”

  “None of my other kids will be coming here,” Michelle said, quickly adding, “which is totally unprofessional of me to say in front of you, so please forget I did.”

  Jason wanted to tell her that things between them didn’t need to be professional, that she could swing by anytime and hang out with him if she wanted to, but he imagined that would probably make her feel uncomfortable or obligated. Instead he stood there with his hands in his pockets as she unlocked the car door.

  “Still have my number?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Don’t be afraid to use it.”

  He watched as she pulled out and away, allowing himself a sigh before he put on a fake smile and went back inside to be part of the family. Doing dishes with mom, playing dolls with Amy, and sitting next to Peter while he played on the computer. Everything but what he actually wanted to do. Maybe at night, when the house had fallen silent, he would finally be free to take that journey down the hallway again.

  * * * * *

  Jason gently knocked on the door, wincing at how loud his soft raps seemed to echo through the silent house. He turned to make sure no bedroom lights had switched on, and ended up banging his guitar against the wall. He was still grimacing when Caesar opened the door.

  “Not exactly stealthy.”

  “Sorry,” Jason replied.

  Caesar jerked his head, signaling that he should enter. Jason did, noticing the room was tidier than usual, a candle lit on the side table. Casual, but still suggestive. He fought down a feeling of panic as he sat on the bed.

  “Here to play me a song?” Caesar asked.

  Jason nodded but left the guitar where it was—resting between his legs. He watched Caesar expectantly, taking in the muscle shirt hanging off the bare skin of his shoulders, and hoped for proof that this morning wasn’t a fluke or a delusion. Caesar picked up on this, chuckling before rewarding Jason with a kiss. His breath tasted minty fresh, implying that he had done the same as Jason and made sure his teeth were brushed.

  “So what was all that downstairs?” Caesar asked, sitting on the bed next to him. “Standard check-up or trouble?”

  Jason rolled his eyes. “You’re looking at Houston’s newest altar boy.”

  “My parents aren’t Catholic,” Caesar said after a pause, “but I think I catch your drift. Mom’s pressuring you to go to church.”

  “It’s that or pack my bags,” Jason said.

  If Caesar found this surprising, he didn’t say so. “So that’s it? Your smoking hot caseworker came here to make sure you go to church?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Jason said, but he found himself distracted by the implications. “You really think she’s hot?”

  “Yeah! I don’t know if she has kids or not, but MILF!”

  Jason cocked an eyebrow, not that it could be seen behind his bangs. “So you and Steph, that’s not an act?”

  Caesar shook his head. “I’m bisexual. I like girls.” He reached over and tugged on Jason’s earlobe. “And I like guys.”

  “How does that work?” Jason asked. “I mean, when you get married or whatever, what do you do about the part of you that wants something else?”

  “It’s called restraint,” Caesar said. “The part that wants to wander is always there, even for straight people. But commitment is commitment. Once I sign on the dotted line, I’ll devote myself to that person only.”

  “I think I have a pen around here somewhere,” Jason said, patting his pajama bottoms like they had pockets.

  Caesar grinned. “Save it for Vegas.” Then he grew more somber. “Listen, whatever this turns out to be, we’re going to have to play it carefully.”

  Jason swallowed. “Your parents?”

  “Exactly. I’m not a closet case or anything. My mom knows. She doesn’t really like it, but she knows. If she found out that my brother and I—”

  “Don’t call me that,” Jason said. “Even as a joke. It’s creepy.”

  “Yeah, okay. Anyway, I think she’d find it even more offensive than you not attending church.”

  Jason nodded. “What about your dad? Does he know?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure he does, but we’ve never talked about it. You might want to play straight while you’re at home, just so they don’t draw their own conclusions.”

  Jason shrugged. He didn’t care if the Hubbards knew the real him or not. “What about school?”

  “What about it? You want to go to the prom with me or something?”

  “Yeah,” Jason said defiantly. “I do.”

  “Fine, but you have to convince me to ask you.” Caesar flopped onto his back.

  Jason’s stomach felt tense. Was he supposed to… “Convince you how?” he asked with a dry mouth, which certainly wouldn’t make this any easier. In the corner of his eye, he could see the dark hair on Caesar’s legs, the boxers that probably didn’t cover much, not that he’d let himself look.

  “You can start by playing me a song.”

  Jason nearly exhaled in relief. Instead he picked up the guitar and strummed it gently, creating a lazy sort of sound a cowboy and horse might mosey along to. He smiled when this made Caesar laugh, picking up the pace and adding a bit more oomph as the imaginary horse broke into a gallop. Getting into the music, Jason paused to pull off his shirt so he could feel the instrument against his chest. Then he played more seriously, plucking out Every Breath You Take by the Police. Stripped of its lyrics, the song sounded playful and optimistic, and less like a stalker’s anthem. Not that he was one to judge.

  At the end of the song, he transitioned to freestyle tunes, letting his hands move almost of their own accord as he slow
ly lost himself in the sound. When he felt fingers touching his back, he seized up. Caesar’s hand slid around to his ribs and tried to pull him backward.

  “Wait, my guitar,” Jason said, setting it down, but he didn’t make an effort to lie down afterwards.

  Caesar responded by scooting next to him and kissing his neck, shoulder, chin, and lips. Finding himself in somewhat more familiar territory, Jason threw himself into that kiss, nearly reaching the same blissful state he did when playing music. Caesar stroked the top of his hand, taking hold of it and moving it to his lap. Jason felt flannel boxers, something warm and hard beneath them.

  “Uh,” he said, pulling his hand away.

  “Something wrong?” Caesar asked.

  “No.” Jason’s cheeks were burning. All of this was too soon. Not that he didn’t want to! That wasn’t the problem. He just wanted it not to be the first time. If he could somehow skip over that initial awkwardness, be skillful and confident so he could impress Caesar…

  “Am I moving too fast for you?”

  “I don’t know,” Jason answered.

  “You don’t— Oh!” Caesar chuckled, but it didn’t sound cruel. “First time?”

  “Nah, I’ve been with tons of guys,” he lied. It was clear Caesar didn’t believe him, so he added, “I just don’t put out on the first date. Or before the first date.”

  “Minigolf doesn’t count?”

  “Nope.”

  “Go-karts?”

  “Nuh-uh.”

  “I took you out to dinner and a movie. What about that?”

  Jason looked at him incredulously. “Lunch at the mall doesn’t count.”

  Caesar still had bedroom eyes. “Very well. Tomorrow, after my wrestling meet, I’m taking you on a date. And no hot caseworkers or annoying parents will stand in my way. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “Good. Now you should probably go back to your room.”

  “Why?”

  Caesar pointed at his crotch. “So I can take care of this.”

  Jason allowed his eyes to flick downward at the tenting fabric. “Oh wow!” he said without thinking.

  Caesar smirked. “Oh wow yourself.”

  Jason glanced down at his own crotch, then grabbed his guitar in panic. As he stood and headed for the door, he held the instrument in front of him like a shield. Hormones flooding his system, he almost turned around, threw aside the guitar, and gave into what his body wanted. Luckily—or perhaps not—enough nervousness remained to see him to the hallway. As he shut the door behind him, he tried not to imagine what was happening in his absence. At least, not until he was safely shut in his own room. Once there, he spent the next half hour imagining all sorts of things.

  Chapter Seven

  “Going on a date, huh?”

  Jason tore his attention from the padded mat where Caesar had a guy pinned on his back. He was surprised. Not because Steph was here. That happened often enough. But he didn’t expect her to know about the date tonight.

  “Caesar told you about that?”

  Steph nodded, rolling her eyes and clapping at the scene below, meaning Caesar must have won. “There isn’t much I don’t know about him. I’ve known he was bi since the first time he flirted with my older brother. But I thought you were straight.”

  Jason blinked. “Even though I’m sitting right here every Tuesday and Thursday?”

  “Well, when you put it like that.” Steph laughed. “Unlike Caesar, you aren’t the most forthcoming guy. You’re kind of mysterious.”

  “Yeah, I do that on purpose,” Jason joked. “So, uh, you don’t seem upset.”

  “About you two hitting it off?” Steph shrugged and exhaled. “I figured Caesar would find some other girl eventually. That you’re definitely not a girl makes it easier somehow. Besides, maybe now I’ll finally move on.”

  Jason gave a sympathetic smile. “So any tips? Anything I should know?”

  “About Caesar?” Steph smiled slyly. “Trust me, he’ll tell you everything you need to know. Just try to keep up with him.”

  Jason wasn’t sure what that meant, but seeing as the wrestling meet was coming to an end, he was on the verge of finding out.

  * * * * *

  “A picnic?” Jason asked.

  “Yup!” Caesar walked around to the passenger door of the car and opened it for him. “We’ve already covered all the typical dates: movies, minigolf, shopping… A picnic is next on the list.”

  “But it’s nighttime.”

  Caesar glanced around and nodded. “I can see that. Let’s go. I wanna get started.”

  Their destination wasn’t far. Caesar drove them to a public park that included a playground, a generic sports field, and farther back, a duck pond surrounded by trees. Caesar grabbed some loaded plastic bags from the trunk after tossing a blanket over his shoulder.

  “I can carry something too,” Jason said, closing the trunk for him.

  “Nah, that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me. Or very ladylike of you.”

  “If you think I’m the girl in this relationship,” Jason said, “you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “You speak from experience?”

  “No, but…”

  Caesar shot him a grin as they headed across mowed grass. “Tell you what. We’ll wrestle. Whoever ends up on top gets to be the top.”

  “I might leave you wrestling yourself again tonight.”

  Caesar groaned. “What’s the point of this picnic if you’re not going to put out?”

  “To feed me. I’m starving.”

  When they reached the edge of the pond, Jason grabbed the blanket from Caesar, kicking away a few rocks and sticks before he spread it out on the ground. He plopped down cross-legged on one corner, salivating as Caesar did the same and started unpacking the bags.

  “We’ve got potato salad. Fruit salad. Real salad.” Each item he pulled out was in a plastic container, straight from the grocery store deli. “Loaf of bread. Disposable forks. And of course, something to drink.”

  From out of the last bag a six-pack appeared. Even in the limited light, Jason could see silvery print on the cans and a swooping font that spelled out a few words, one of them magical. “Beer?”

  “Yup.” Caesar yanked one free from the plastic rings and handed it to him. “You drink, right?”

  “Yeah, of course.” As of this moment, at least. “Where did you get this?”

  “I popped over to the grocery store during lunch.”

  “But how’d you get the beer?”

  Caesar cracked open his can and smiled. “I have my ways.”

  Meaning he probably strolled into the liquor store oozing confidence and walked out with whatever he wanted. No doubt his life always worked that way. Jason opened his can, foam splattering his hand, and held up the beer when Caesar raised his in toast. “What are we drinking to?”

  “To tonight,” Caesar said, a wicked gleam in his eye. “By which I mean later tonight.”

  Yeah, that confidence probably got him everywhere. Jason was tempted to play hard to get, just to deny him something. Then again, the way Caesar opened the potato salad, dunked in a finger, and licked it clean gave Jason other ideas. Assuming he didn’t get freaked out again. He brought the can of beer back to his lips, chugging down as much as he could tolerate. Did people really like drinking this stuff?

  “You better eat something too,” Caesar said. “I want you loosened up, not blitzed.”

  “I told you, I’m not the girl.”

  “That’s not what I meant by loose!” Caesar said, tossing a slice of bread at him.

  Jason deflected it and smiled, reaching for a fork and the fruit salad.

  Caesar considered him as he speared and ate a few chunks of watermelon. “You don’t have to do anything tonight,” he said. “I’m just teasing. Take your time.”

  Jason glanced up, feeling a mixture of relief that it didn’t have to happen and panic that it might not. He just wanted to get it over with so it wouldn’t be s
uch a big deal anymore. Being experienced like Caesar must be nice. “When was your first time?”

  “You mean with a girl?”

  Jason shrugged in response.

  “I was fourteen.”

  Fourteen. Jeez! That meant Jason was already years behind him in experience. “What was it like?”

  Caesar thought about it over a bite of potato salad. “Lame. Some older girl I met at a party. I don’t even remember her name. We went up to her room, and I was desperate to get laid at the time, so, uh, it didn’t last very long.” He chuckled while rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, I wasn’t very impressed. It felt good, but not much more than jacking off did. The next time… that was really something.”

  Jason felt more intrigued than jealous, so he motioned for Caesar to continue.

  “The second time was with Steph. We were together for about a year and she was still a virgin. To her it was a really big deal. She used to talk about saving herself for marriage, but eventually she said she didn’t want to wait. Her parents were out of town, and we tried to make it special. We had this silly rule about keeping the lights off the entire night, even during dinner. She cooked for me, which was nice, and I did dishes.”

  “In the dark?” Jason asked.

  “We had candles. We lit every single one we could find until the house glowed. Anyway, the time finally came time and Steph got super scared. When I put my arm around her, she was shaking. I ended up holding her the entire night, telling her—” Caesar swallowed. “I told her how I felt about her. My body was dying for action, but I ignored all that as best I could. The sun was coming up when she finally calmed down. She was ready, and I found that I was too, which I hadn’t been the first time. Not emotionally. And it was amazing. That night with her was special.”

  Once again, Jason wished he could trade places with Steph. He was beginning to worry less about his sexual performance and more about competing with her emotionally. How could he ever take her place? He mulled over the details, finding himself at a loss for words. What could anyone say after hearing a story like that? Luckily, the silence was filled for him.