by M. C. Roth
The video was slow and skipped instead of showing a seamless picture. It made for a disembodied series of still shots as he slid his hands down along her legs as he began to tire, and as she threw her head back from the change in position.
He pulled back after only two minutes of video lapse. His cock looked small, but Trent couldn’t tell if it was because of the angle or the grainy video. He looked into the mirror for the second angle, but the man was already tucking himself back in his pants. There was no movement to remove a condom.
The man moved in close again and pushed his weight against her. Her feet were flat on the floor this time and her back was straight against the elevator wall. Trent looked between the two of them.
He narrowed his eyes as he squinted at the video, trying to get a better look at the faces. Too many things weren’t adding up. He knew that Ian was usually a stickler for condoms, and he didn’t think he would make an exception just because he was with a woman. If anything, it would give him more reason. The last Trent had heard, Ian had not wanted anything to do with children.
And the heights didn’t make sense. He’d never met a woman who was as tall as Ian that still looked that good in high boots and a short skirt. Her shirt was quite short and showed off her belly in a way that would be sexy on someone around five foot eight.
The man turned as the elevator door slid open for the first time since the video began. A young woman, who was actually taller than the man, took two steps into the box before she noticed the state of the couple. Trent imagined that she could probably see the flush on their faces and the cum dripping down the woman’s thigh. Her skirt was still hiked up with her bare pussy on clear display now. The young woman backed up a step before turning and leaving.
Trent paused the video and zoomed in on the man’s face. He’d frozen it a second too late when the man was already fully facing the elevator door. He noticed that something was missing from the blurry side of the bald head. It was something that was large and dark enough that it should’ve been clearly visible.
“Oh shit.”
Chapter Fourteen
“It’s not him,” said Trent as he zoomed in even farther, just to make sure. The picture blurred into large square pixels of swirled colour.
“What do you mean it’s not him?” Candace shot up beside him and grabbed the phone from his hand. “It looks like him, and the entertainment news said it was him. He got charged.”
“No, you said that someone recognized him and reported him, and they put out a warrant. Well, they were wrong. It’s not him. That guy, whoever he is, is definitely not Ian.” He pointed at the naked scalp. “There’s no tattoo there, and Ian has an American flag. This guy is short, too, probably five nine or so, and his dick is way too small. And as you well know, Ian is not a minute man. That guy came in less than three minutes.”
“Oh, shit, I think you’re right.” Candace squinted at the phone as she brought it closer to her face. She scrolled back through the video and paused when the small cock was visible for just a moment before it was tucked away. “That’s like five inches max. A good size if you have technique—or if it vibrates.”
“I have to call him. What am I going to say?” Trent ran a hand through his hair and pulled his legs up onto the couch to wrap his arms around them. “I was so mean to him, Candace. I called him a coward and I screamed at him. He isn’t going to want to hear from me again.”
She wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing him once before she let him go. “I’m going to give you some time to think, Trent. I can’t tell you what to do, but I think you should call him and apologize. The least you can do is try. It’s more than what he did for you, right?”
“I love how you tell me that you aren’t gonna tell me what to do, right before you tell me what to do.” Trent found himself smiling just the tiniest bit.
“That’s what besties are for.” She lifted off the couch and tucked her phone into her pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need me, okay?”
“’K,” he said into his kneecap. “Then you’ll tell me what’s up with you too, okay? I know you’re hurting over something.”
She shrugged with a sad tilt of her lips before she disappeared around the corner. Trent heard a rustling near the front door as she pulled her shoes on, then the quiet slam of the door as she left the house.
He was left in utter silence. Even the furnace was silent on the chilly day, leaving him alone with his thoughts. His phone was still lying on the bathroom floor where he’d left it. The taint of acidic bile was lingering in the house, mild now, but unforgotten, and it felt like a league stretched between himself and the phone.
He pried himself off the couch, knowing that if he delayed any longer, he wouldn’t make the call at all. He had called Ian a coward, but right now, he felt as if he were the one who was too afraid. His stomach jumped and tossed as he made his way to the bathroom and retrieved his phone from the rug, where it had tumbled to from his hand.
He nudged the wet towels off the ground with his toe before closing the toilet seat and sitting down. If his stomach continued to whirl, at least he would be in the right spot.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced around the bathroom one last time as he hit the Ian’s contact. Discarded and damp towels littered the ground, along with a soiled pair of pyjamas. A crumpled tissue had found its way into the corner somehow, but he didn’t remember using one. It must’ve been from Candace. She was a great friend, but her housekeeping skills left something to be desired.
It rang only once before there was a click on the other end that told him that the call had connected. There was no greeting, just the distant sound of mumbled voices that were quieter than usual. There was a constant whirl of noise that was typical over the phone when Ian was travelling in the bus.
“Would you accept an apology?” Trent asked, barely more than a whisper. He waited for a response, but after thirty seconds of relative silence, there was still nothing. His stomach tumbled even farther and he gripped the phone hard. The toilet seat squeaked under his weight as he shifted and the cold bathroom floor numbed his toes.
“I’m sorry.” He tried to hold back the tears, but it was like they’d never stopped. They were pouring down his face harder than when he had thought Ian had cheated on him. He sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his face. His phone was still pressed hard to his ear as he refused to give up hope that he would get a response. He wasn’t going to be the one to hang up. He didn’t have that right this time.
“Say it again,” said Ian after another long pause. His voice was thick and deeper than Trent had ever heard it, and he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was crying. The thought of Ian with tears pouring down his face, trapped on a bus filled with his unknowing friends, just made him want to cry harder. Trent had Candace, but Ian had no one he could turn to—at least no one who would understand what he was going through.
“I’m so sorry, Ian.” Trent sniffed hard again. He tried to muffle the noise with his palm over the speaker, but it was no use.
“You’ve never said it to me before. Did you know that?” Ian’s voice trembled. “You’ve never said that you loved me. You’ve come close more than once, but it always sounded like something was holding you back. I had this picture in my mind of something cheesy from a chick flick. You’d sneak through security at a concert and find me backstage. You’d pull me down for a kiss like you always do. It’s like you think my neck’s a handlebar or something. Then you’d whisper it in my ear like it was a secret just between the two of us.”
“I didn’t realize. I thought I said it?” Trent combed through his memories. He knew he’d told Ian that he was falling in love with him, but Ian was right. That wasn’t the same thing.
“Then I realized that I wasn’t just dreaming. Even if you did say it back to me, it really would be our little secret. I don’t want anyone to know, because I’m so ashamed…” Ian’s voice trailed off.
“You’re a
shamed of me?” Trent couldn’t hold back the sob. He could understand Ian’s reservations. People were assholes, especially strangers, and Ian spent most of his life with strangers. There were a few people he could call friends, and the single person among them who did know was not accepting in the least. It was one thing to be afraid, but something very different to be ashamed. “I don’t know what to say,” said Trent after he was finally managed to find his voice again. Ian was condemningly silent.
“Haven’t you ever been ashamed?” asked Ian.
“Maybe when I shoplifted when I was twelve, but not now,” said Trent. “I’m proud of who I am and of what I’ve done with my life. I may not be the most exciting person, but I’m happy. I have a house of my own, and a family who loves me. I thought I could count you amongst those people.”
“You can,” Ian took a deep breath. “I love you, Trent. You have to know that. There is no way that I would be having this conversation if I didn’t love you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” His shoulders tensed and his hackles rose. The cold porcelain seeped into his back and put him even more on edge.
“I used to fuck chicks,” said Ian in a rushed breath. “I fucked so many that I lost count. I didn’t care about getting them pregnant or getting STDs. It felt good, and I think I was starting to like it. I think I was trying to convince myself that nothing was missing.” He let out a soft huff.
“But my drinking got worse and one night I found my way to the bottom of a bottle of whisky. When I woke up, I was so hungover I could hardly see straight. I felt someone beside me and I reached over thinking I’d find a wet slit. Instead my hand wrapped around the half-hard dick of the guy I’d just fucked. And I liked it. I really, really liked it. He felt so perfect in my hand and even better in my mouth. After that, it was only guys. And there were more of them than the women.” There was a pause as something thumped in the background and the bus went over a large pothole.
“It’s easier than you think to get away with something like that. Girls like to talk, but guys keep things more to themselves, especially if they are in the closet too. It was easy enough to find people who didn’t talk, especially when I already had a reputation on the other side. It just went along like that for a while, until Mac stumbled in on me when I was with another guy. I’ve never seen anyone more shocked and disgusted in my life. He ran out and I drove after him, but I was so fucking drunk. There was another car and—” Ian’s voice trembled and he cleared his throat. Trent thought back to the vivid scar on Ian’s side and the words scrawled along it.
“So I stopped. I stopped drinking and partying. I didn’t take drugs anymore or anything else that could fuck with my head. I started looking at chicks again and imagining how they would feel under me. I convinced myself that it wouldn’t be so bad. I tried to get with them, but when the time came, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Mac was pressuring me, and the band was asking for more and more. So I took off and drove for three days solid. That’s when I saw you walking down the street looking like the most beautiful drowned cat, and something just drew me in. You were like a drug that night, looking at me with your cock already hard in your pants.”
“So I seduced you, and now what? You want out?” asked Trent. His toes curled under the bathroom mat as he tried to draw some heat back into them. His whole body trembled.
“No.” Ian shouted into the phone. Trent heard the pause in the voices on the other end, and a knock on the door a few moments later. “Fuck off, Mac. I’ll be out in a bit.” Ian started again, “Trent, I just want to see you. I want to spend Christmas with you, then New Year’s too. I never want to come back to work, and that scares the shit out of me. This is my life, and I’ve worked so hard for it. I’m ashamed that I could throw that all away.”
“For a fuck?” Trent was bitter with the sour edge of disappointment. “Ian, if you really want something, you are the only one stopping you. I want to wait for you, and I want to be able to love you. I can’t love you and be your secret. I can’t be someone who you see and fuck every year or so, then shove under the carpet like the bit of dirt you missed with the vacuum. I won’t live my life like that.”
“You really do think I’m a coward,” said Ian. “You think I’m afraid of them and the whole world.”
“Well, aren’t you?” Trent took a deep breath and held back the other angry words that wanted to stumble out of his mouth. “Look, Ian. I called to apologize. I heard about the charges against you for screwing some chick in an elevator. When I saw the video, I knew it wasn’t you. I shouldn’t have said what I did without even letting you say a word. I should have trusted you. I’m sorry.”
“But you meant it,” said Ian. His voice sounded more like a statement than the question Trent knew it was supposed to be.
Trent couldn’t answer. He couldn’t lie to the man he loved. And he did love him. He loved him so much that he would do anything for him. But his heart was also being ripped into tiny shreds.
“What do you want from me, T?” Ian let out an explosive sigh. Trent could hear the building anger, even as Ian struggled to stay calm.
“I just want to be a part of your life. Is that so much to ask?” A second wave of tears started to creep down Trent’s cheeks. “Do you know what it feels like to have your lover hang up on you because he’s too ashamed to let his friends know who he’s talking to? I look forward to hearing your voice every day, but you never want to talk to me if they’re around. God forbid they find out that you’re fucking some random guy…again,” Trent said sarcastically. If the situation hadn’t been so heart-breaking, he would’ve rolled his eyes.
“You aren’t some random guy, T.”
“What did you tell Mac about me after you left the hotel that day?” He ground his teeth so hard that they squeaked in his skull. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from Ian.
“He didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell him.” Ian’s voice was soft and quiet.
It was exactly what Trent had expected to hear. Each word was like a fondue fork that pierced his heart and dipped it into sizzling oil.
“I have to go, Ian.” He didn’t. There was nothing else in his tiny world for him to think about except for the man on the other side of the phone. Not even Candace could soothe the reality of that.
“What? No. We aren’t done talking.” His voice grew loud enough that the voices paused again in the background. He sounded like a lion about to drag his prey to the ground. “Don’t hang up the phone, T. We aren’t done.”
It was as if Ian could see Trent’s thumb hovering over the tiny red symbol on the screen that would disconnect the line. He wanted so badly to end it, but he’d already promised himself that he wouldn’t be the one to do so. He promised that he wouldn’t shut Ian out like that.
It took every ounce of willpower that he had to bring the phone back to his ear. He bit his lip hard enough that his dull teeth split the seam of his lip and a drop of crimson slid down his chin. He didn’t even feel the ache.
“Okay,” said Trent. Ian paused as if he hadn’t expected to hear his voice again so soon. The end went silent again and Trent heard the sound of a quiet knock at the door. Ian grumbled and must’ve pulled his ear away from the phone and put his palm across the speaker from the amount of static.
He heard a voice that was distant but still audible. “Why are you crying, Ian, and who the hell are you yelling at?” It was Mac’s steady voice.
Ian replied, his voice muffled but still discernible. “Some guy impersonated me and got charged with some sex thing.”
“But why does it sound like you are crying?” came Mac’s voice again.
“Seriously, Mac, fuck off.” The speaker muffled again as Ian’s hand dragged over the surface.
“Who’s on the phone? Shit, it’s not the cops, is it? I know I talked about boosting sales, but this is not the way to do it.” The man was louder this time, as if he had opened the door into the small bathroom at the back of the bus.<
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“It’s no one. Get the fuck out.” The phone muffled again and Trent missed the rest of the conversation. He didn’t think he would’ve wanted to hear it anyway.
He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the little red button, longing to push it but stubbornly refusing. Instead, he set the phone down on the fake marble swirl of the counter. The corner dipped into a water spot and smudged the dark surface to black. He stood from his perch on the toilet and walked to the door. He flicked the light off and gently pulled the door shut, leaving his phone, and Ian, alone in the small, dark water closet. He couldn’t help but think it was somewhat appropriate.
Chapter Fifteen
Trent kept busy for the rest of the day, keeping his hands moving so his mind would stay quiet. He avoided going back into the bathroom for as long as he could. By then his cell phone had gone dead. He dropped it into his bedside drawer and slowly slid the door shut. The glimpse of the sex toy hidden in the drawer didn’t bring the usual flush of heat to his cheeks. Instead, it only made his chest tighten.
That night, he slept deeper than he had in months. His tangled sheets almost felt like a body against him. He dreamed of warmth and sweet caresses instead of the nightmares he’d expected.
There was almost a sense of déjà vu as he cooked two eggs in the shiny copper pan the next morning. The knife scraped across dry toast as he spread a thin layer of butter. The eggs had been warm to the touch before he broke them into the pan. It was early enough that the sun hadn’t even thought about bursting over the horizon.
There was a soft knock at his front door before it was scraping open as someone walked inside. He never locked his front door. He could probably try any door in the small town and it would be open at any time during the day or night. It was the naïve security that he loved about his home.