Room for Recovery

by D. J. Jamison

  Wade shifted in his seat to look at Beau’s profile. He was beautiful, even with all the damage Jeremy and Billy had done. Everything about him was warm: from his brown eyes to his caramel skin to his spirit, so giving and caring.

  For the first time since he was fourteen, Wade said the words. Well, whispered them, at least.

  “I’m gay.”

  He barely heard himself, but Beau rewarded him with a wide smile.

  “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

  Wade huffed a small laugh. “You have no idea.”

  “So, tell me.”

  To Wade’s great surprise, he realized he was ready. Haltingly, choosing his words carefully, he shared for the first time his attempt to come out to his father and his father’s response.

  “I told him I was gay,” Wade said. “It was the day before he died.”

  Beau’s eyes widened, instantly understanding the implication. “You don’t think …”

  “That it’s my fault? I don’t know. For a long time, I did,” Wade admitted. “The timing seemed significant. One day, I told my dad I was gay, and he told me I should think it over, that maybe I was confused. And the next day, he’d killed himself. What else could I think?”

  Beau reached out, and Wade clasped his hand, thankful for the connection. He laced their fingers and rested their hands on his leg.

  “That’s awful,” Beau said. “But you can’t blame yourself. Your dad made his own choices.”

  Wade nodded. “You’re using logic.” He tapped his chest with his free hand. “This isn’t reasonable, though. I felt guilty. I was shocked, then confused, then angry. I hated myself.”

  “Wow. I can’t even imagine.”

  “He even said he didn’t want me to end up like Trent.”

  Beau gaped. “No!”

  “Yes!” Wade said, so relieved to have an outlet for the poison he’d held inside so long. “I was shocked. I couldn’t take it as anything other than disappointment. He didn’t want a gay son. I hoped with some time he’d come around. Only, I never got the chance.”

  “Because. . .”

  “Yeah.” Wade cleared his throat roughly. “He died.”

  “Is this why you’ve been so …” Beau hesitated, but Wade knew what he meant. He laughed bitterly.

  “What? A big fuckup? Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it’s why I went into denial. I fully intended to come out to my whole family, and then my dad died. I was shocked and angry. My sexuality was the least of my concerns, you know? But then a girl asked me out. It seemed like a good distraction, and my father’s last words to me came roaring back. Maybe I was wrong about being gay. Or maybe I could be bisexual. I don’t know. So, I figured, why not try? And when we broke up and another girl showed interest, I went through the motions. I just kind of … went on autopilot. At some point, I stopped questioning my sexuality and started faking my way through life.”

  “You’re breaking my heart,” Beau said.

  “Give me time, and I’ll break your heart for real,” he said darkly. “I’m not a good guy, Beau. I shouldn’t have kissed you the first time, but you made me feel real again. And now… I don’t think I can go back.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Beau said. He lifted Wade’s hand and brushed a kiss over his knuckles. “I care about you. I know you’re not ready to be out, and I respect that, but I want to be more than friends if you can handle that.”

  Beau was so sweet. He deserved only the best, which wasn’t Wade. He was too selfish to say no. But he felt like he should put some kind of disclaimer out there.

  “I don’t have the best track record when it comes to treating people right. I might hurt you.”

  “You might,” Beau agreed. “Anyone might. I think when you feel a real connection with someone, it’s worth the risk. And you’re not so bad. You’ve proven that.”

  “You’re just saying that because you like to kiss me.”

  Beau laughed. “Can’t deny it.”

  “I don’t know that I’m much of a catch,” Wade admitted. “I’ve been trying to be what I thought my dad might want. I thought maybe, if I worked at it, I could choose to be straight.”

  “You must know it’s not a choice.”

  “I guess I do.”

  “You’d be faking it and stringing along girls—”

  “I know,” Wade said more sharply. “I feel shitty enough for the girls I dated, though none of my relationships were very serious. Anna was probably the closest to being hurt, but she has Shane now. He’ll treat her better than I ever could.”

  “Wade, for what it’s worth, you have thought about it long and hard. You’ve done what your father asked. From what you said, that’s all he asked of you?”

  “Yeah, but it seemed like he was disappointed in me.”

  “So, what now?” Beau asked again.

  “I don’t know. I try to come to terms with the fact that I’m gay and that’ll never change.”

  “That’s good.”

  “And maybe, with enough time, I’ll be ready to come out.”

  “But you’re not there yet,” Beau said. “I get it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And what about with me?” Beau asked, sounding a bit nervous. “Are we going to be friends, or—”

  “It’s a lot for me to process,” Wade said. “But if you give me time, yeah. I’d like to be your friend, and more. I definitely wouldn’t say no to another kiss.”

  Beau beamed. “Very good answer.”

  Wade didn’t know what the future would bring, and even with a few more kisses, he sensed a deep sadness in Beau over the news of Amos Jacobs’ death. They both had grief and pain to overcome, but tonight it felt for the first time like maybe they could do it together.

  Chapter 22

  When classes resumed after Thanksgiving break, the school held an assembly on bullying. Though they didn’t name Beau, everyone knew it was in response to the attack on school grounds. He hated thinking of it as an “attack,” but fight wasn’t right either because he’d gone down so easily.

  “We have a zero-tolerance policy on bullying,” Principal Myers said, looking out at the students assembled in the auditorium. “And if we have to, we will involve the police department. This is not a matter of detention or suspension. This is your future at stake.”

  The assembly included a short one-act play by the drama department, an awkward Q&A session with students, which mostly involved staff deflecting questions about what exactly happened to Beau, and a speech by the counselor who implored students to come see her if they needed to talk about any problems they were having. Beau felt like he was being chastised for not reporting Jeremy and Billy, but nothing was as simple as they made it seem.

  Beau fidgeted in his seat at the end of an aisle next to Ker and Nate. Ker squeezed his hand in sympathy every now and then, aware of how uncomfortable this made him.

  Halfway through a horrifying documentary about a student who committed suicide after being bullied for years, a touch to his leg startled him.

  Wade crouched beside his seat. “Hey,” he whispered, “want to get out of here?”

  “Yes.”

  Beau had never skipped school, but he was more than ready to get out of this assembly. He whispered a quick explanation to Ker, so she wouldn’t give him away. Then he followed Wade out of the auditorium and through deserted hallways to the exit. Once they stepped into crisp November air, he shivered.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “Now we ditch school,” Wade said, then grinned. “Well, you do. My classes are over for the day. I’m the good boy in this scenario.”

  “Why were you here then?” Beau asked as Wade led him to his car.

  “It was required of all students,” Wade said, glancing back. “Plus, I wanted to be there for your sake. But that film was too much to take.”

  “Depressing,” Beau agreed, before he thought. Then he winced. The film had been about suicide, not just bullying. “Probably wasn’t easy f
or you to watch.”

  Wade clicked the button on his car remote, and the doors unlocked. Once inside, he started the engine.

  “Yeah, suicide is a bit of a trigger for me,” he admitted. “But let’s not talk about that crap. Let’s do something fun.”

  “Like?”

  Wade leaned over, kissing Beau’s cheek. “We’ll improvise.”

  Wade drove around town a while, not going anywhere particular, while they talked about unimportant things. It was a relief to forget all the heavy topics: death, repression, rejection, and just argue about the best movies and music, even foods.

  “I cannot believe you don’t like peanut butter. How did you survive childhood?”

  “On hot dogs and bologna,” he replied without missing a beat. “My mom hated it. She kept trying to make these gourmet meals, and I was like, ‘Wanna weenie!’”

  Beau was laughing as Wade pulled to a stop. “You were not.”

  “It’s true!”

  “I’m going to ask your mother,” Beau warned.

  “You do that. I have nothing to hide.” Wade’s words landed awkwardly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, besides the obvious.”

  Beau looked out the windshield. Wade had pulled into a wooded area, following a trail that led to a small parking area next to a camping site by the river. From the window, he could see a covered picnic table and one of those metal barbecue grills bolted into the ground.

  “Want to get out and walk?” Wade asked.

  Beau really didn’t. It was still cold, and he didn’t have his coat. Besides, he had something besides walking and talking in mind, if it didn’t scare Wade. He had no idea how Wade felt about the kissing of the night before, but there was only one way to find out.

  “We’re always kissing outside. Isn’t that kind of weird?”

  “Who said anything about kissing?”

  Wade’s voice was teasing, but it still made Beau uncertain. He met Wade’s gaze and held it. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

  The air between them filled with tension, as Beau’s heart hammered in his chest. Wade’s lips curved into a new kind of smile Beau hadn’t seen before. It was sexy, inviting and just a little smug. “So, kiss me then.”

  Beau took in the interior of the car. Bucket seats, with a console between them, made kissing awkward at best. He gauged the space between Wade and the steering wheel, trying to decide if he’d fit there.

  Wade misunderstood his hesitation. “You don’t have to be afraid to kiss me. I know I’ve kind of freaked before—”

  Beau shifted, swinging a leg over and awkwardly straddling Wade’s lap. The steering wheel pressed into his back, pushing him into the warmth of Wade’s body.

  “Do I look afraid?”

  He kissed Wade, and this time, it wasn’t a sweet press of lips but a wet, messy affair. Wade opened his mouth on a groan, and their tongues met. The touch of Wade’s tongue against his sent a fresh rush of want through him, and he pressed his hips down, pressing their erections together through their jeans.

  Wade’s hands gripped his hips, then slid around and squeezed his ass. He pulled Beau down tighter against him as he surged up, and the friction was both a pleasure and a pain.

  Beau gasped against Wade’s lips as he slid his hands under Wade’s shirt, unable to resist touching skin.

  “I don’t want to—”

  His words were cut off by another kiss, but Wade stilled beneath him.

  “You don’t want to?” he asked, breathing heavily. He lifted his hands away, and Beau caught them, returning them to his waist and pressing them there.

  “I want to,” Beau assured him. “I don’t want to push you too far. That’s what I was trying to say.”

  Wade blew out a heavy breath. “You about gave me a heart attack,” he said. “I thought maybe I was moving too fast for you.”

  “Nope,” Beau said, though his heart beat frantically, and he was nervous about his inexperience. Wade might not have been with a guy before, but he’d been with plenty of girls. “But I don’t want to move too fast for you either. I mean, I’m your first guy, right?”

  Wade bit his lip. “Basically.”

  Basically? Basically! What the hell did that mean?

  “Can you be less vague?” he said, a little too sharply. Taking a breath, he softened his tone. “Please?”

  Wade hesitated, before admitting, “My first kiss was a boy. In eighth grade.” Beau gaped at him as he continued. “It was a long time ago, before my life went crazy, and I moved here. Obviously.”

  Beau’s heart hurt a little at the thought he wasn’t Wade’s first kiss with a guy, but this wasn’t about him. If Wade had been an openly gay guy, Beau never would expect to be his first, so it was silly to mourn that missed opportunity. He was lucky to experience this intimacy with Wade at all after so many years of distance.

  “You really did know you were gay,” Beau said quietly. “When you told your dad, you’d already kissed this boy?”

  Wade closed his eyes, sinking back into his seat. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “When my coming out didn’t go well, I tried to turn back time.” His eyes blinked open. “It didn’t work. I spent three years trying not to know you, Beau, but you were always under my skin.”

  Those words soothed the small jealous ache inside him, and Beau leaned in to kiss Wade softly.

  “I’m sorry you had a hard time with it,” he whispered.

  “I'm sorry I hurt you,” Wade whispered back.

  They kissed again, softly at first, but with more fervor as their lust heated up once more. Wade suggested they move to the back seat, and the irony wasn’t lost on Beau. He was finally getting up to the kind of backseat gymnastics his mother had worried about. But he was eighteen and with a boy — no chance at pregnancy, though he suspected his actions with Wade would greatly impact his life regardless.

  “What exactly are we doing?” he asked Wade nervously after they’d moved.

  “Whatever you want. We can just kiss like we have been, or we can touch more. Explore. I don’t want to rush you.”

  “Exploring is good,” Beau said, slipping his hands under Wade’s shirt again. He smoothed his hands over his stomach and ribs, mapping out the feel of Wade’s body, until Wade pulled his shirt over his head. He was lean but toned in a way Beau never would be. He felt a little self-conscious about his skinny frame as Wade pulled his shirt off too.

  “I don’t have much muscle.”

  “You don’t need it,” Wade said, pulling him down, so their chests pressed together. Feeling Wade’s bare skin against his was heady, and he got lost in the experience again until Wade squeezed his cock through his pants.

  “Oh, God,” he gasped. “Touch me.”

  Contrary to his own words, he ripped open Wade’s pants and shoved his hand under his boxer briefs to grasp Wade’s shaft.

  Wade made a choked sound, rocking into Beau’s grip. “Thought I was supposed to touch you.”

  “That too,” Beau said as he stroked Wade awkwardly. Wade’s jeans limited Beau’s range of motion, and after a moment, he withdrew his hands and shoved at Wade’s waistband. “Push these down?”

  “You too,” Wade said, and they moved apart to loosen and shove at fabric. When they came back together, Beau was aware on one level that they were baring all their vulnerable parts, that this was all happening scary fast, but he was too worked up to overthink it.

  He held Wade’s cock, measuring the weight and length of it with his hand. Wade was thicker than him, but not quite as long. His shaft was hot in Beau’s hand, the skin soft to the touch. But when he squeezed he felt an underlying hardness that sent a thrill through him. He did this to Wade. Wade was hard for him.

  Then Wade wrapped his fingers around Beau’s erection, and he stopped thinking at all.

  They rocked into each other’s hands, kissing and gasping, and Beau came over Wade’s fist in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Wade followed a few seconds later.

  Beau sat u
p, feeling awkward, and searched for something to wipe his hand on. Spotting a fast food bag on the floor, he grabbed it and searched inside for napkins. Finding none, he wiped his hand on the bag.

  “Here,” Wade said, holding out his T-shirt. “Use this, it’ll work better.”

  Beau hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  Wade nodded. “I have a hoodie in the trunk I can wear.”

  Beau wiped his hands and the end of his soft cock, face heating as he imagined how he looked at that moment, then thrust the fabric at Wade. Hurriedly, he pulled up his boxer briefs and jeans, snapping them shut, and grabbed his own shirt from the floorboards. He tugged it over his head before glancing shyly at Wade.

  Wade had his jeans on, but no shirt, and was leaning over the front seat, offering Beau a nice view of his ass.

  “Come on,” he muttered, stretching awkwardly. “There!”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Popping the trunk so I won’t need the key,” Wade said. “I don’t want to turn off the car. It’s too cold for you without the heater running.”

  That was unexpectedly considerate. They’d left school without coats, but Wade didn’t even have a shirt on at the moment.

  “Do you want me to get your hoodie?” Beau offered.

  Wade shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be quick.”

  He opened the door and ran around the back of the car, where the trunk had released. He grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over his head. Beau climbed into the front seat while Wade closed the trunk and jogged to the front driver’s-side door.

  “Back in the front seat again,” Beau said, feeling vaguely guilty for getting it on in a car as his mother had always assumed he would.

  Wade took hold of his hand and intertwined their fingers. “You okay?”

  Beau nodded, blinking his eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

  He couldn’t understand why he felt so emotional over it. So, he’d given up his virginity — not even his full virginity, but certainly a piece of it. It was with a guy he cared about, who also cared about him. Maybe they weren’t committed boyfriends or deeply in love, but it wasn’t meaningless, and really, Beau didn’t think sex was some precious gift anyway. He’d been eager to have sex for years, but he’d never had a good opportunity, not counting Miles who came along at the wrong time. Beau had his heart set on a different boy. A boy he’d finally gotten. So, he wasn’t sure why he felt so weird about it.