Rising From the Dust

by Adrianna M Scovill

  “No,” he answered. He looked over his shoulder to double-check that he’d closed the door behind himself. “Those are usually pretty obvious, though,” he said, offering her a sheepish smile. “But he keeps saying super sweet things and I just…” He shrugged. “I get all blushy,” he said.

  “Blushy?” she repeated with a laugh. “You speak five languages and you teach two of them.”

  “That doesn’t give me authority to make up words?” he asked. “Anyway, Shakespeare would know exactly what I meant,” he added with grin.

  “No doubt,” she remarked. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you blushy in my life. Maybe our wedding night,” she said. Her smile was wistful, but filled with fondness as she regarded him. “But otherwise? You’re one of the hardest people to embarrass…”

  He laughed, spreading his arms, phone still clutched in one hand. “I know, right?” he said. “It’s ridiculous. He sent me a damned One Direction song—I know!—and I sat there blushing and grinning like an idiot at my desk with a classroom full of students.” He shook his head. “And, uh…” He swallowed, looking at his phone. “Apparently, he thinks I’m a good kisser.”

  And just like that, he felt the heat creeping up his throat and into his cheeks.

  “Really?” she asked, eyebrows going up. “I mean, not that he thinks that, because of course you are, but last night you kissed, or—He really appreciated the sandwich, I guess?” She paused, looking over his face. “Oh my God, you really are blushing,” she said. She leaned back in her chair, laughing. “Gabriel.”

  “Huh.”

  “The man just texted you that you’re a good kisser?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah…”

  “And you haven’t answered him back?”

  “What the hell do I say to that? Thanks? My pleasure? You too?” he asked.

  “Again, honey, you know a lot of words,” she said, still laughing at him. “I have faith that you can string a few together. Just, maybe don’t use blushy?”

  He groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. “God, I’m doomed,” he said.

  “On second thought, you seem to be doing pretty well so far. Go answer him before he starts to worry you didn’t like it.”

  ***

  I feel like I should tell you something.

  You are an exceptional kisser. Just thought I’d mention that. Hope you’re having a good day :)

  Gabriel seated himself at his desk, staring at the texts. Exceptional? he thought. How could I have a bad day after a text like that? he wrote. I certainly enjoyed kissing you ;) Hope we get to do some more of that?

  Jack answered: All the songs I’ve thought to send you for a ringtone have been highly inappropriate today. I want your sex by George Michael, sex on fire by kings of Leon, kiss you inside out by hedley, burning love by Elvis…

  Hmm I like where your mind’s at. I might go with the last one, Gabriel said

  Here’s a new pic if you want. Gabriel smiled at the photo of Jack—his hair was mussed from sleep, and he hadn’t yet shaved. He was wearing a white t-shirt and a lopsided smile, and his blue eyes were bright and focused on the lens. Gabriel liked the other picture, but this one was better. And Jack had taken it specifically for him.

  Is that how you always look when you wake up?

  Pretty much. Except the smile’s for you because I woke up thinking about how you kissed me.

  You kissed me, Gabriel answered.

  I kissed you first but you kissed me better.

  Gabriel laughed, leaning back in his chair. He scratched at his jaw. I have to warn you, if I ever wake up next to you looking like that, I’m not going to get anything done all day.

  As soon as he sent the text, Gabriel felt a moment of doubt. Making joking references to songs with “sex” in the title was not the same as suggesting they might actually wake beside each other in the morning.

  Oh. I think we could find something to do, Jack answered, and Gabriel smiled at the phone. I have to go. Text later?

  Yes, Gabriel wrote.

  ***

  Gabriel sat on his new (used) sofa, staring at the wall as the silence closed in on him. He didn’t have a television, yet. He could turn on music, but for the moment he chose to simply sit and listen. He could hear the steady tick of his watch, a sound he didn’t think he’d ever noticed before.

  He’d had a bed and dresser delivered, and he, Natalie, and Arnie had brought some of the most important items—clothes, which Natalie had unpacked into the closet and dresser, a small selection of books and a shelf to house them, pots and pans, dishes and utensils, a few groceries, toiletries. He would have to go shopping to stock his refrigerator and cupboards, and to get laundry soap and a million other essentials. He didn’t want to think about that tonight.

  It was lonely. He hoped that Natalie wasn’t feeling the same way. Maybe Arnie had gone home with her, but Gabriel wasn’t going to ask. She would tell him if she wanted to.

  Gabriel couldn’t help the sadness lingering inside of him. Aside from fatherhood, his marriage had been the most important thing in his life for half of his life, and now it was ending. They hadn’t signed any paperwork yet, but the marriage was dead just the same, and Gabriel couldn’t help feeling like a failure. He couldn’t help thinking of what his mother would say. He couldn’t help feeling guilty and sad.

  There was relief, too, though. For the first time in his life, he was living alone. For the first time in his life, he could let himself be sad without feeling the need to put on a smile for the benefit of someone else. He could be himself, by himself.

  He could invite Jack, or anyone he chose, to dinner.

  And after dinner?

  He felt a flutter of nerves at the thought, but the feeling wasn’t bad. The life suddenly looming before him was filled with uncertainty and was not at all what he’d planned, but he knew he needed to allow himself to see the potential. He could have something that he’d never let himself believe was possible, if he could just let go of his fear and guilt.

  His phone buzzed in his shirt pocket. He drew it out, looking at the screen, and a smile spread across his face. He opened the message, enlarging the photo from his son.

  Thought you’d want this for your collection, Ben had texted, sending a picture of himself—standing in the hallway outside his dorm room—in his Halloween costume. He was dressed as Abraham Lincoln for some reason that Gabriel couldn’t quite fathom; he was too tired to give it much thought, and it didn’t matter.

  Gabriel blinked the tears from his eyes. Nice beard, he answered, taking a moment to compose himself. He didn’t know if Ben could possibly know how much it meant that he’d sent the photograph, unsolicited. Thank you.

  You ok?

  I’m fine. Getting settled in to the new place.

  Ok call if you need to talk, Ben said.

  I love you, Gabriel answered. Happy Halloween he added, even though it was the first of November. Have fun at your party.

  I will ;) Love you. Night.

  Gabriel started to set his phone on his leg, but another text made it vibrate in his hand. He turned it over and immediately smiled again at the sight of Jack’s name.

  Hey, how was the move? You settled in?

  Everything went smoothly. Now I’m staring at the wall. It’s quiet.

  That’s probably good. You don’t want loud walls, Jack answered.

  True, Gabriel replied.

  But seriously, how are you? Not letting the quiet get to you, I hope?

  Gabriel smiled again. It’ll take some getting used to. I’ve never lived alone. Ever.

  If you need to talk, I’m here.

  Those seven words meant more to Gabriel than he could express. Gabriel knew that he could call Ben or Natalie if he wanted or needed to talk. They were his family, and they loved him unconditionally. But what he and Jack shared was different. It was new, and it was scary, and it might ultimately lead nowhere, but it was not unimportant.

  Thank you, Gabriel an
swered. I think I’ll put on some music in a minute. Something that reminds me of you to help me sleep tonight ;)

  All day long I hear songs that make me think of you. It’d be easier if I could just make you a mixtape. People still do that?

  You’re asking me? Gabriel answered, with a laughing emoji.

  I could play you some in person some time.

  Gabriel considered this for a few seconds. I’ve got a list of songs that make me want to dance with/for you, he replied. Be a shame to let them go to waste.

  FOR me?

  Is that weird? Gabriel asked.

  I studied literature in college and I’m suddenly convinced I don’t know how to read.

  You studied Lit? Gabriel knew so little about Jack’s life. He knew he was a cop but nothing of the road that had led him to the profession. He didn’t know the story behind the wedding ring, but he knew it was a sad story; he’d seen it written on Jack’s face, that first night. Gabriel knew it was probably naïve, but he trusted Jack, for better or worse. He wanted to know more about him, but he was willing to wait until Jack was ready to share.

  Lifetime ago. You did just write the words…“that make me want to dance for you.” Right?

  Haha are you worried?

  Worry is not remotely on the list of things I’m feeling.

  I know some tricks.

  Omg. Dare I ask for a sample of these songs?

  Gabriel sent a link for “Reggae,” by Etana.

  I’ll be back in a few minutes, Jack wrote. I’m going to give this proper attention.

  Smiling, Gabriel got up and went to the bookshelf across the room. His iPod was beside the Bluetooth speaker, there, and he opened the playlist he’d made for Jack and started the Etana song. He closed his eyes, swaying for a moment to the music. He imagined Jack listening, imagined Jack picturing him, and Gabriel wished they were in the same room.

  His phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down.

  You’re going to dance for me, to this?

  I did say WITH you, too, Gabriel answered with a smile, strolling slowly back toward the sofa with the iPod in one hand and his phone in the other.

  I’ve never been much of a dancer but…I’m gonna go with yes, Jack said.

  Gabriel laughed, sinking into the cushions. Ignore the female pronouns at the beginning and just…feel this rhythm ;) He sent another song link, this time for Eric Church’s “Heart Like a Wheel.” He switched the iPod from Etana to Eric and set the iPod on the end table, leaning his head back against the couch as the music filled his apartment.

  I’m feeling it, Jack wrote after a minute. Can we make this dancing thing happen?

  Would you like to come over this weekend? Saturday?

  Yes.

  That was fast, Gabriel wrote, laughing.

  Too eager?

  No. I wish you were here now, Gabriel answered. He hesitated, wondering if he should ask him to come over.

  Me, too. Here’s one for you.

  Gabriel opened the song: Kip Moore’s “Midnight Slow Dance.” He paused his own music to listen.

  My favorite part? Set the room on fire with a long wet kiss ;) Jack texted.

  Is my kiss wet? Gabriel joked.

  It’s literally perfect.

  I never know how to respond when you say stuff like that. I just blush and smile like an idiot. This is why I text instead of calling, so you can’t hear me giggling and stuttering.

  Giggling? Hahaha I can’t wait to hear that and see the blush.

  I’ll cook you dinner. Is there anything you don’t like? Allergies?

  No allergies, Jack answered.

  OK. Cuban? Anything you refuse to eat?

  I’ve never been squeamish about what goes in my mouth.

  Gabriel was surprised into a laugh. He stared at the words for several seconds, then laughed again. He felt a flush of desire; heat was pooling in his lap and creeping into his face even though no one could see him. He caught his lip between his teeth, his thumbs hovering over the letters on his screen.

  I’m working on expanding my appetite. Gabriel stared at the words he’d just typed, feeling another nervous flutter in his stomach. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he hit send and waited, holding his breath.

  I’m up for a little Cuban spice, Jack answered almost immediately.

  “Fuck,” Gabriel muttered into his quiet apartment. He was growing hard in his jeans, and he shifted on the sofa. His phone vibrated softly in his hand as another text quickly followed.

  Not that I’d ever object to vanilla.

  Gabriel smiled.

  Shit.

  You know what I mean, right? Jack asked.

  Gabriel swallowed, wrestling with his nerves. His heart was thudding, but he could read Jack’s worry in the rapid succession of texts. Steeling his resolve, Gabriel hit the call button and raised the phone to his ear.

  Jack didn’t answer until the second ring. Gabriel could picture him sitting there, startled by the incoming call. Why are we both nervous? he thought.

  “Hello.” The voice was low, husky, and did nothing to alleviate the tightening in Gabriel’s groin. It did soothe his nerves, though, and he felt himself relaxing into the cushions.

  “Hi,” he returned quietly.

  There was a pause. “I didn’t scare you off.”

  “No.”

  “You know I meant…no pressure, right?”

  “I know,” Gabriel answered. “I…don’t want you to…feel like you have to be cautious, Jack,” he said. “I’m not going to freak out again.”

  “I’m not in any hurry, Gabe,” Jack answered, and Gabriel shivered at the soft sound of his name on the other man’s lips. “You offering me dinner doesn’t have to mean anything else. And…if you have concerns, we can talk them through.”

  “The sound of your voice erases my concerns,” Gabriel said, and Jack’s quiet laughter found its way through the phone and settled over him like a comforting blanket.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Jack murmured. “Because I like hearing you, too. In fact, I keep thinking about you in the bar, singing. It keeps me up at night.”

  Gabriel hesitated. “Up?” he finally asked.

  He could hear Jack’s smile, as impossible as it seemed. “Up and awake,” he answered. He paused. “I can hear you blushing,” he said softly.

  Gabriel laughed. “Can you hear me shifting around on the couch?” he muttered.

  “Uncomfortable, are you?”

  “Just wishing I was wearing looser pants.”

  Jack’s low chuckle rumbled through Gabriel’s body. “You’re alone, right?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Another laugh. “So who says you have to wear pants?”

  Gabriel paused. “This is a first for me,” he admitted.

  “If it makes you feel better, I had to undo my jeans as soon as I heard your voice,” Jack murmured. “And I’m not just saying that. Literally, the sound of your voice…”

  Gabriel groaned, closing his eyes. His thighs flexed, his knees spreading wider as the fly of his jeans pressed into his erection. “Good God,” he said. “I feel like some…horny teenager instead of a middle-aged—”

  “I’d like to know what you feel like,” Jack interrupted, still speaking softly. “But I’ve got a pretty good imagination. And it’s working overtime picturing that dance you promised me.”

  Gabriel let out a breath. “Your imagination might be better than the reality,” he muttered.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Jack breathed, and Gabriel could almost feel the soft puff of air against his ear. “Gabe, it’s…been a long time since I’ve felt like this.” The quiet admission made Gabriel’s breath catch in his chest. “I want you to know that. You’re not the only one with insecurities. You can talk to me.”

  “I’ve only been with four people in my life,” Gabriel answered, his lips barely moving. “And no one but my wife since I was twenty-three, I’ve been married since twenty-five.” He hesi
tated. He’d never said the words aloud to anyone except Natalie, and for a few seconds they lodged in his throat; he had to tear them out: “I’ve only been with one guy. When I was nineteen.”

  “I’m in no hurry,” Jack reminded him. “We can go as slow as you want.”

  “I don’t want to go slowly,” Gabriel said. “I want you.”

  He heard Jack’s intake of breath. Then: “Well, I’m right here. And my hand feels a lot like yours when I have your voice in my ear.”

  “Jesus,” Gabriel said on a rush of air, spreading his knees wider. He moved his hand to his thigh and closed his eyes. “Are you…”

  “Do you mind if I pretend my hand is yours?” Jack murmured.

  Gabriel swallowed. Shifted. “No.” His own hand slid a little higher.

  “Do you want to know what it’s doing?”

  Suppressing a groan: “Yes.”

  “Your hand just slipped into my jeans,” Jack said. “Can you feel how hard I am through my boxers…?”

  Gabriel moved his hand, palming himself, dipping his fingers between his legs along the seam of his jeans. He closed his eyes. It had been a long time—nearly six months since he and Natalie had been intimate, and far longer since he’d touched himself like this.

  “Can I unzip you?” Jack asked.

  Gabriel ran his thumb over the curve of his fly, suppressing a shudder. “Yeah,” he breathed. He wasn’t sure he could unfasten himself with one hand.

  As though reading his mind, Jack said, “I’m gonna put you on speaker.”

  Gabriel glanced over his shoulder toward the door, eyeing the deadbolt and chain to reassure himself that both were securely fastened. He considered moving to the bedroom and dismissed the idea. He switched his cell to speaker and set it on the sofa cushion, and then resumed his music, before unbuttoning and carefully unzipping his jeans.

  He was throbbing already, painfully engorged and desperate for release, and he paused with his fingers at the waistband of his shorts. He was honestly shocked by the level of his desire, and he wondered if Jack could possibly understand the extent of the effect his words and voice had on Gabriel’s body.

  “God,” Jack breathed, and now his voice was not just in Gabriel’s ear but in the room, mingling with the soft strains of Dorothy Moore’s “Misty Blue”; Gabriel could almost imagine that he was on the couch beside him. “I didn’t think I’d be so…hard so fast.”