by A. J. Truman
Mac had a similar feeling when he tried dating girls in high school, but he wouldn’t tell Gideon that.
“Even though you shouldn’t be out here,” the cigarette guy stumbled up to them and waved his cigarette at them. “I love watching you guys. You’re the cutest couple.”
“Oh, we’re not…” Heat crept up Mac’s neck.
Gideon threw his arm around Mac. “Thanks, man! College sweethearts!”
It was just for show, but it gave Mac some sort of back orgasm. Gideon’s grip was stronger and more protective than it had to be. He knew how to embellish a lie in all the right places. One million cold showers.
The guy blew them a kiss, then wandered off to his smoker buddies.
“Why’d you say that?” Mac asked.
“It was the easiest way to get him off our backs.” Gideon pulled back his arm.
Mac almost pictured them as a couple. Lying on a bed with Gideon not talking seemed better than most things in the world.
“Thanks for talking.”
“Anytime.” Gideon grinned, and Mac felt safe in that look. “And if you’re still feeling down, Big Bird can probably cheer you up.”
“Big Bird?” Mac asked before getting it. He smacked Gideon in the shoulder. “I am not calling it Big Bird. You’ve just ruined my childhood.”
CHAPTER eight
Gideon
A few days after Cherry Stem, Gideon took the train back home for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year. There was no ball drop, no countdown, no celebration involved with this holiday. He and his mom sat in a packed temple as the rabbi said prayers that…well, he didn’t exactly know what the prayers meant. He just knew that Rosh Hashanah wasn’t about celebrating the year to come but reflecting on the year that passed.
Happy new year! Even though it’s not “happy,” right? Mac texted him.
“Put the phone away.” Gideon’s mom pointed at the open prayer book in his hands.
Gideon regretted not wearing a watch. He wondered how much time was passing, if any at all. It was like being in a Vegas casino, except less fun. The new year didn’t have to be completely solemn. They were still getting to celebrate making it a whole year.
His mom craned her neck to the empty seat next to Gideon. Noah called them this morning and said he had to play in a tournament, but he would be at dinner tonight. Gideon knew that his mom was secretly hoping he would show up at services. He did, too. It was tradition. Not the Rosh Hashanah part, but the trying to make the other one laugh.
Friends of Gideon’s mom walked by the aisle and saw the empty seat. His mom told them that Noah was sick and couldn’t make it today. People nodded and wished him a speedy recovery, but it was doubtful if any of them believed her. She wasn’t as good at the lies as he. Their disapproving looks stung Gideon deep down every single time.
“I can’t believe your brother,” his mom whispered to him. She had developed the distinct ability of talking without turning her head. “He chose playing cards over this?”
“He’ll be at dinner tonight,” Gideon said.
“It’s because of her.” She shook her head. “Christina probably didn’t want him to come.”
“He’ll be here for Yom Kippur. He will.” Gideon wanted to believe it, too.
“But you won’t. I wanted our whole family here.”
Yom Kippur was the holiest day of the year in Judaism and occurred ten days after Rosh Hashanah. If the latter was about reflecting on the year that passed, then the former was us asking the big man above to forgive all the terrible things we did over those twelve months. Gideon couldn’t take off ten days from school, so he would be attending services at Browerton.
“He’ll be at dinner tonight.” Gideon patted his mom’s hand.
She tipped Gideon’s chin and gave him a smile that masked her hurt. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve always done the right thing.”
They returned to listening to the rabbi, who was still saying a prayer. Gideon didn’t know if it was the same one or a different one. His eyes landed a few rows in front, where a little kid stood on his chair. Gideon remembered being that bored in services. Now, he had to be an adult and tough it out, but he stood in solidarity with the kid. His parents ushered him down quickly, but not before Gideon caught a glimpse of his Big Bird yarmulke.
“What’s so funny?” His mom asked.
“Nothing.” He felt his cheeks bunch up by his eyes. He pictured Mac in the empty seat next to him, clamping his hand over his mouth to suppress his church giggles—or temple giggles in this case.
“It’s a shame Beth wasn’t able to make it,” his mom whispered. “I think she would’ve loved my matzo ball soup.”
Φ
Noah did make it to dinner. He came by himself. Gideon wondered if his mom had invited Christina. Maybe she was smart enough not to enter the lions’ den.
“I’m glad you could make it,” his mom said to Noah with a tablespoon of motherly guilt. “How was cards?”
“Good. Got next month’s rent wrapped up.”
Unlike Gideon, Noah had been smart and cut off his wily, Saperstein hair. He kept it close-cropped. He could be mistaken for a college student in his jeans and hoodie. It was not proper Rosh Hashanah attire, and his mom’s look reinforced the point.
“I hope it was worth missing one of the holiest days of the year.”
“Mom, this is how I make a living. I told you I’d be at Yom Kippur next week.”
“Sadie Lowenstein’s son is a partner at his Manhattan law firm, and he was able to take off for Rosh Hashanah and sit in temple.”
Noah tightened his jaw. Gideon focused on shoveling matzo ball soup into his mouth. That was the one bright side to this awkward dinner. He got to eat his mom’s delicious home cooking.
“Did she tell you not to come?” His mom pointed an accusatory serving spoon at her oldest son.
“She has a name. Christina. And she didn’t say anything.” Noah put chicken on his plate.
“Well, I’m sorry the second holiest day of the year has so inconvenienced you.”
“Mom,” Gideon said. “It’s okay. He’ll be there for Yom Kippur. It’s not the worst thing if he missed one holiday.”
“It is, Gideon. You wouldn’t miss a holiday.” She pointed at Gideon while looking at Noah. “Your brother wouldn’t miss a holiday.”
Unease churned in his stomach. Gideon hated getting involved. His dad had been the voice of reason in their family. But now that they were down to three, Gideon was perpetually stuck in the middle. His heart strained from the constant push and pull. Both his mom and brother were equally strong-willed. All he needed was the striped referee shirt and a whistle.
“Christina isn’t leaving the picture.”
Her face sank. Panic washed over her eyes. “What do you mean, Noah?”
Noah sat up straight and took a breath. “I asked her to marry me.”
Gideon dropped his spoon. It plunked into his soup and splattered hot broth on his cheeks.
“When?” His mom asked.
“Last weekend.”
“Last weekend? And we’re just hearing about it now?”
“Yes.”
Gideon didn’t want to look at his mom, but he couldn’t not. He tilted his neck slowly. She was as white as a ghost. Her jaw hung open like she had the wind knocked out of her.
“Noah…” she said. “You’ve barely begun dating.”
“It’s been three months. She makes me happier than I’ve ever been. Can’t you see that?”
“She makes you happy now, but what about when she’s fifty in a few years?”
“Then I’ll love her just as much.”
“Love?” She looked to Gideon, but he kept his head focused on soup.
“You should give her a chance, Mom,” Noah said. “She’s a good person.”
“I’m sure she’s very nice, but not as my daughter-in-law. Don’t you see how crazy this is?”
“You’re just worried about what your pr
ecious friends at temple will say.”
“You already give them plenty to chew on,” she said, her voice thick. “You’re only twenty-four. You’re going to give up so much of your life. Are you really sure this is what you want to do? Noah, you always rush into things. You’re too impulsive. I don’t want to watch you make a mistake because you didn’t think it through.”
“Mistake?” Noah cut his eyes to Gideon for back-up.
But so did Gideon’s mom.
Gideon felt the strain tighten his chest. Enough pushing and pulling would tear him asunder. He swirled the matzo ball around his soup. He had no desire anymore to eat his mom’s home cooking, but at least the food wasn’t looking to him for support.
His mom stood up. “If you really thought you were making the right decision, you wouldn’t have waited a week to tell us.” She placed her napkin on her plate and went upstairs.
Once she was gone, Noah turned to Gideon, radiating all kinds of hurt. “Not even a congratulations or anything. Mom hasn’t made any effort to get to know her!”
“She’s just in shock. She just wishes you hadn’t sprung it on us at dinner, after the fact,” Gideon said.
“Of course you’re siding with her. Because you’re the responsible one. You never screw up,” he said mockingly.
“There are no sides. We’re all on the same team here.”
“Be honest, Gid. There never was going to be a good time to tell you. Even though I love her, and even though it’s my life, there was never going to be a good time.” Noah stood up and tossed his napkin on his plate, just like his mother. He glared at Gideon. “A congratulations would’ve been nice from my brother.”
The game was over. Court was dismissed. The matzo ball bobbed in the broth.
Φ
Gideon cleared off the table and put the food into Tupperware. He stopped by Noah’s room, but the door was shut. Gideon held up his fist to knock, but then what? He didn’t know what to say. Whatever he would say to his brother, he should’ve said at dinner. But then that would’ve upset his mom. The Sapersteins had always been a peaceful, loving family. This level of drama was unprecedented. Rosh Hashanah was not supposed to go like this.
Can’t wait to get back to campus! Gideon texted Mac.
Don’t come back yet. Mac then texted him a picture of a sink filled with dirty dishes. Gideon missed their apartment. He didn’t think of it as just his anymore.
I’m pretending I didn’t see that, he texted back.
Gideon lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind going a million miles an hour but heading nowhere. He never meant to be the responsible son. It just happened. It was a natural progression of the younger child. He saw the hard time his parents had with Noah growing up, so he molded himself to be everything his brother was not. His parents didn’t deserve two Noahs. He wasn’t going to be a person who ignored the consequences of his actions, who just did whatever the hell he wanted. He wasn’t going to bring shame to his family. That was, well, irresponsible.
He needed a shower. That would help him fall asleep.
The hot water soothed his skin. He never understood how a shower could relax him, but they did. He kept thinking about his mom, sulking in her bedroom. She’d probably toss and turn all night, asking herself how she let this happen and where she went wrong.
Gideon turned the water warmer. He hoped that soothing feeling would kick in soon. He lathered himself up with soap, scrubbing away the day, but he still felt the stress. His hand washed his lower back, and then he let his slick fingers slip further, down the curve of his ass. Just a flicker. He pulled them back up to his chest, but it was too late. His body was already tingling.
He let them flicker down there again, descending slowly until they reached his crack. It sent a rush of pure joy through his body.
Gideon wanted that feeling back. He let his middle finger wander down further his crack and graze over his hole. It was ultrasensitive. He exhaled a trembling breath.
He checked that the bathroom door was closed. His finger went back and forth like a metal detector, dancing over his spot. His body shivered in the hot water. Gideon learned one arm against the wall for balance. What am I doing? He raised a leg onto the edge of the shower. He ran his hand down the crack of his ass, teasing himself, and slipped one finger into his hole.
Holy shit.
It was new. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was a reckless and defiant feeling that charged through his nerves. The same feeling that had almost made him—forced him to—kiss Mac on the dance floor.
He let his finger slide in and out of his ass. Streams of water flowed down his face, onto his chest, then hit his hardening cock. His dick had never been this sensitive to touch. A few tugs would probably make him shoot. Gideon soaped up his hand and inserted two fingers this time. He rammed them in deep, then drew them out ever so slowly. His teeth chattered as the rest of his body didn’t move. Damn.
Gideon found a type of pleasure he’d never experienced before. His mind drifted to an image of Mac and his yellow dildo. He visualized Mac jamming it into his ass. No, he was the one sticking it inside that tight ass, he was the one making Mac writhe around in abject pleasure.
Stop thinking about this.
But his body didn’t listen. It was protesting his rigid rules. His mind had been working in overdrive tonight, trying to figure out how to keep his family together. It was always working, always keeping himself in check and coming up with little white lies. His mind needed a damn break. He just wanted to feel good.
He grabbed his rock hard cock. That simple touch could’ve made him come in three seconds, but he did his best to prolong this feeling. He stroked his dick with his slicked-up hand while he fingered himself. He mashed his chest and head against the shower wall. He shoved that yellow toy in and out of his roommate’s ass. Mac pulled his legs closer to his face and moaned for the entire block to hear. His pale ass was taking it all.
Mac whimpered out his name as a plea for more.
Gideon bit his lip. He couldn’t moan. His vocal chords were frozen as was the rest of his body. Only his hands worked. In and out they went. Back and forth his fist slid over his cock. He was losing his balance. He pretended it was his fingers diving into Mac’s wet, hot ass, and it was Mac’s ass tightening around him.
He could barely stand as the orgasm tore through him, ripping through his insides like an unrelenting tornado. It had never been this strong, this intense. Just like Mac had said.
Mac screamed into his leg as he shot hot spurts over his chiseled chest. Gideon blew his load against the shower door.
He regained his breath. The water turned cold, or maybe his skin was too hot. Gideon cupped water in his hands and washed off the door.
After he toweled off, he brushed his teeth, got into his pajamas, and ducked into bed. He was grateful that the Sapersteins weren’t talking to each other tonight. Nobody would question why he took such a long shower.
CHAPTER nine
Mac
Seth didn’t want to get drunk for his twenty-first birthday. He also wasn’t a fan of surprises, which wasn’t a surprise to Mac. Delia walked and talked as they left class, giving him the scoop on the birthday plans.
“I’m just going to have a few people over my apartment tomorrow night. There’ll be some gluten-free beer, and then regular alcohol for everyone else. You and Gideon can come over anytime after 8:30.”
“You know, we have our own schedules.” People tended to do this lately. Just because they were roommates didn’t mean their schedules were synched up. They came and went as they pleased, although Mac did have a decent idea of where Gideon was most days. It didn’t mean we were a couple.
The next night, the roommates walked over to Delia’s place. Mac found himself taking extra glimpses at Gideon, in his usual rolled-up sleeves and jeans. Same old Gideon, but Mac hadn’t seen same old Gideon in a few days thanks to Rushmore Shaman. Or Russian Onyx. Or whatever that holiday was called. When
he walked through the door a few days ago, luggage in hand, Mac’s heart did a somersault. He instantly gave it an internal warning.
You missed him as a roommate. And a little bit as a friend. That’s it.
They strolled into the chillest twenty-first birthday party Mac had ever attended. People drank their beer and cocktails while a jazz radio station streamed from Delia’s phone. It was so Seth. He and Delia held hands while talking to Henry and Nolan on the couch.
“I still can’t believe they’re together,” Mac said.
Gideon nodded, but he seemed to be somewhere else. He hadn’t said much since he got back.
Everyone wound up congregating in the kitchen. Mac pulled Gideon back from joining the fray.
“Is everything okay?” Mac asked.
“Yeah. Everything’s cool.” Gideon headed into the kitchen and turned on his loud charm. He greeted the crowd around the drinks as if this were his party. Mac admired that ability of his to own a room.
One more glimpse.
That’s enough. Mac hated that he had this attraction to Gideon and hated that Gideon’s feelings for him seemed more ambiguous everyday. He forced himself to think of something else. Delia pulled him into their conversation, saving him from himself.
Mac and Gideon spent the party apart, talking to different people. Gideon held court in the kitchen, always a drink in his hand. Mac liked the relaxed, intimate setting. It gave him a chance to actually hear what the other person was saying. The lowest of the lowkey twenty-first birthday parties turned out to be a great time.
Delia buzzed off to get the birthday cupcakes ready. Henry sidled up to Mac and ushered him to the window.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Mac swiped the last of the baby carrots and dipped them in hummus.
“Is Gideon gay?”
Mac nearly dropped his plate. He laughed off the question. “No. He went to that gay bar to pick up girls.”
“Or so he said. He beeped on my ’dar a little.”
Mac chuckled and played dumb. He spent way too much time wondering what would’ve happened at Cherry Stem if gay John Wayne hadn’t dry-humped his roommate. “What about all those girls he’s dated?”