Get-Together Summer

by Lotus Oakes

  Dirk put the spatula down and began to walk forward. Simon’s words died in his throat and he swayed back, suddenly nervous. He tightened his arms around himself and tried not to cringe as Dirk reached out — but instead of touching him, Dirk simply placed a hand on the wall, next to Simon’s head. He leaned forward, enough that Simon could feel the heat radiating off his body, and he could smell the briefest musky tang under the stronger smell of soap. He must have showered, he thought. Had he showered with Haley? There was almost certainly enough room, especially if two people pressed close together—

  “I haven’t dated a single person I wasn’t serious about,” Dirk said, cutting through Simon’s half-formed fantasy. His voice was even and calm, almost hard. “Girls, boys, who gives a fuck? I loved ‘em all, that’s why I was with them. And out of all of them, Haley’s been the best. So if you’ve got a real problem with me, say it to my face, because if it’s bullshit like that, all you’re doing is wasting your own goddamn time.”

  Simon licked his lips, quick and nervous. His earlier bravado felt like it was slipping, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it. He tried to focus on his outrage instead, the angry jealous lump in his throat that lay under his fascination, that Haley had been so wrapped up in this man she hadn’t even noticed him — that this near-stranger was so preoccupied with his own victory that he hadn’t seen Simon in the doorway. “It’s not bullshit,” he said. “It’s being worried for her well-being. Haley’s my cousin, I worry about her! Family is the most important thing—”

  Dirk’s eyes narrowed. He reached out and took Simon’s chin in hand, with a surprisingly hard grip, and forced him to look up. Simon swallowed hard, the rest of his would-be tirade fizzling out. When had Dirk’s face gotten that close? He should have been paying better attention, especially after Dirk had revealed himself to be like that — should he call out? Throw a fuss? Surely someone else was home and close enough to hear …

  “You really are an idiot,” Dirk said, and a moment later he was gone, pulled out of Simon’s personal bubble and headed back towards the stove island. He took up his spatula, nudging the eggs in the pan again. It was as if the earlier moment hadn’t happened at all. Simon’s knees buckled, and he had to lean back into the wall to keep from simply falling over on the spot.

  “What,” he managed after a moment, hating how hot his face felt, how red he knew it must be. “What was that! What do you think you were doing! I’ll have you thrown out—!”

  Dirk switched off the stove. He walked around the island to open a cabinet, then another, leaving the doors open as he did, until he found the plates. He took down two, then began to rummage through the doors. Simon watched until it was obvious his threat was being ignored, then clenched his fists again. It took more effort than he wanted to admit to not just stomp his foot in his outrage. “I mean it! I’ll call someone, I’ll have you thrown out! You’re trespassing, you know, that’s illegal—!”

  “Maybe,” Dirk said, slow and insolent, drawing out the word until it sounded like a complete sentence on its own. “But then you’d have to explain that to Haley.”

  Simon gulped. It was true; he doubted Haley would appreciate what he was doing for her right away. In time, perhaps, once the spell of Dirk’s charisma wore off and she came to her senses. But right now — she’d just had sex with him! There was no way his hard work would mean anything to her at first, and even if she appreciated it later, the frostiness of her disapproval was still a daunting prospect. As much as he wanted to believe she would thank him, and maybe even hold his hand in gratitude, it was unlikely that scenario would come to pass. He gritted his teeth.

  “You’d have to explain what you just did, too,” he said. “What was that? If you’re only interested in people you actually care about, then what the hell did you think you were doing?!”

  Dirk glanced at him and shrugged. “Look, I don’t normally make suggestions like this, but have you considered getting laid yourself?”

  Simon stared. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t quite make himself answer. Dirk portioned off the eggs, half for each plate, and turned back to him, his expression thoughtful.

  “I’m serious,” he went on, though he didn’t move from the spot. “Usually I think that sort of advice is shit, but man, you’re not bad-looking. It might be good for you.”

  Simon blushed again, hard enough to make his face hurt. He pressed himself harder to the wall, turning his head away, mumbling something that sounded incoherent even to his own ears. Maybe Dirk had seen him, after all? Maybe he was trying to play it cool, to try and make things less embarrassing for everyone, and now Simon had ruined everything. That would be just his luck, wouldn’t it?

  “Hey.” Dirk sounded concerned now, though he remained where he stood, a safe distance between the two of them. “Okay, that was kind of a dick move. Sorry.”

  Simon took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, until his lungs began to burn. He let it out in a rush. “You should be,” he mumbled. “Some of us aren’t, we’re just not interested in that sort of thing.”

  “I said sorry.” There was a shuffling, and when Simon opened an eye to peek, he saw Dirk approaching him, carrying the two plates. In spite of himself, he flinched away, but Dirk didn’t actually try to touch him, slipping past him and down the hallway. Simon sagged in place, then jumped again when Dirk’s voice came floating back, disembodied in the dark: “Hey! Tomorrow, you should come with me and Haley when we go out.”

  Simon craned his head, incredulous, but couldn’t make out anything down the hall. “What?”

  “We’re going to a movie! Haven’t decided what yet, though, so come with us.”

  He scowled, hunching his shoulders up to his ears. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “Good! I’ve got no time for things like that. We’re shooting for the matinee, so be awake by then.”

  “That wasn’t a yes—!” Simon pulled away from the wall at last, scowling, but all he heard in response was footsteps walking away, and the creak of someone’s weight on the stairs. With a small frustrated noise he scrubbed at his face with both hands, and gave himself to the count of one hundred before moving. As he passed Haley’s room again, he found himself slowing, straining his ears. He could just barely hear snatches of the conversation: just the sounds of Haley’s voice, and Dirk’s, and nothing clear at all about what they were saying. After nearly a full minute, he gave up and crept all the way back to his own room, throwing himself onto the bed and rolling himself determinedly up in his blankets. In the stale warmth of his cocoon, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  At some point, though, he rolled over and heard the sound of rhythmic rocking — a pattern that he’d only just learned, but recognized in an instant. His breath caught in his throat and for a moment he didn’t move, trying to convince himself the sounds were nothing more than his imagination.

  Then Dirk groaned, low and rich, and Simon clawed his way upright, breathing hard. He kept his blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, oozing off his bed and tiptoeing to his door — though even that was ridiculous; moving around in his own room was fine, even if they were stupid enough to do anything in the hallway … they weren’t really that foolish, were they?

  He pushed the door open, and saw that there was a thin shaft of light stretching across the carpet down the hallway.

  It took Simon a moment to make himself move. He went step by slow shuffling step, listening to the rough sound of Dirk’s voice, gasping a litany of fuzzy-edged words. When he leaned to peek, he saw the door to Haley’s bedroom was open wider than the first time; there was nothing to block his view — but at the same time, there was nothing to shield him as well. He pressed harder to the wall, but couldn’t make himself turn away.

  Dirk was seated on the edge of the bed, leaning back on one hand, his legs spread wide. Haley knelt on the floor between them, her pale head bobbing slowly and steadily, with a precision that had to have been practiced; the realization mad
e something strange and hot flipflop in the pit of Simon’s stomach. Dirk was sliding his other hand through Haley’s hair over and over, letting the silky length of it slip through his fingers, and his face was flushed, mouth open and eyes half-lidded. His hips rocked in tiny shallow movements in counter-rhythm to the movements of Haley’s head, and every now and then he tipped his head back all the way, showing off the clean line of his throat, which rippled as he swallowed.

  As Simon watched, Haley pulled off slowly, her lips making a wet popping noise as they slipped free of their work. She shifted her weight, and he caught a brief glimpse of her profile, smiling and sweet, turned up to watch Dirk’s face. She wrapped her fingers around Dirk’s wet cock, stroking it up and down slowly, and the gesture made a slick noise that reminded Simon uncomfortably much of when Dirk had fucked her earlier.

  “Baby,” Dirk managed, his voice thick and garbled, “c’mon, be nice.”

  Haley laughed, low and amused, still stroking with her hand. When Dirk’s fingers twisted harder in her hair, she leaned forward, and Simon saw the pink flash of her tongue, swirling easily around the head of Dirk’s cock, tracing it with a delicacy that surprised him, using her hand to hold it steady. He saw her throat work for a moment, as if swallowing, before she ran the tip down from crown to balls, then flattened the whole of her tongue against the shaft, licking her way back up with a broad stripe. Simon stuffed a hand into his mouth in an attempt to keep himself from making any noise.

  “Fuck,” Dirk gasped, almost spitting the word out through clenched teeth. “I think maybe I taught you too well—”

  “Mmhmm,” Haley agreed, so deeply smug that she didn’t even sound like herself. She rose up onto her knees again, taking the length of Dirk’s cock into her mouth again, swallowing him down the whole way. There was something shocking about seeing that, all that long lean length simply disappearing between her swollen pink lips, and Simon bit down harder on his hand to remind himself to stay back, out of sight. Dirk moaned again, low and thick, sounding almost pained, and began to thrust up with his hips, keeping his fingers in Haley’s hair now instead of stroking through it, and despite his growing intensity and speed, she simply accepted it, bracing her hands on his hips a little, but still swallowing the whole of him down, eagerly and sweetly.

  “Ah, fuck,” Dirk snarled abruptly, then yanked back on Haley’s hair to pull her off of him. Her head was tilted back almost enough to let Simon see more of her face, and a moment later Dirk’s cock jerked, spraying thin white ribbons of cum across Haley’s face: over her lips and her cheeks and even a little into her hair. She laughed again, that same low mysterious chuckle as before, dragging her fingers across the mess and bringing them to her lips, lapping them in small delicate gestures.

  Then she turned, looking archly over her shoulder, straight at Simon. “Well, come on,” she said. “Don’t just stand there. Unless you don’t want anything?”

  Dirk grinned at him, and even though he’d just come — and a lot, from the looks of it — his cock was still half-hard, rising again even as Simon stared. He swallowed hard, taking a jerky step forward. Haley turned to face him completely, and he could see the whole of her body now: the sweet heavy curve of her white breasts, larger than first glance would have pinpointed, topped with hard pink nipples; the gentle outward sweep of her hips and the elegant line of her legs, with a dark-blonde thatch of hair between her legs, damp and curled. Simon found himself unable to look away from that, though from his peripheral vision he saw Haley lift a hand out to him in invitation. He reached out hesitantly, swallowing hard and—

  —his eyes snapped open.

  He was on his own bed, tangled so thoroughly in his blankets that for a moment he wasn’t sure if he could even move. There was a tight aching lump in his throat, and a nagging pressure between his legs. Outside the sky was a pale luminescent gray. Everything was still and calm.

  Slowly and carefully, Simon sat up and swung his legs down to hang off the edge of the bed. He unwrapped himself from his blanket with equal care, doing his best not to brush against his erection. Once freed, he went, on tiptoe, down the hallway to Haley’s room.

  The door was cracked ajar rather than thrown open wide. He held his breath and peeked inside. He could see two long shapes on the bed, and Haley’s pale hair spread across the pillow. Without the distraction of his own breathing, he could hear the both of them, slow and steady. Relieved, he pulled away and went back to his own room, past the warm rumpled mess of his bed and to the adjacent bathroom. He flipped on the lights, squinting against the sudden brightness off the white tiles, and began to methodically strip off his clothes. Once naked, he stepped into the shower, his determined erection bobbing with the movement, and switched on the water. Hot.

  Under the almost-needlelike pressure of the water, Simon braced one arm against the wall and jerked himself off. It felt almost like a race against the vague misty recollections of his dream (Dirk’s face, Haley’s face; his hardening cock and her inviting smile), and he was ashamed to admit that he didn’t quite beat them; he came with a muffled groan at the memory of Haley licking her fingers. For something that hadn’t really happened, the image of it felt burned into his mind’s eye. As his orgasm passed he slumped against the tiles, sliding down until he was seated, blinking away the shower spray as it dripped into his eyes.

  “Fuck,” he said, more to test the sound of it in his own voice. It felt stilted and awkward. His parents didn’t approve of using crass language — his father liked to say that a true man never resorted to any swearing to make his point. Hearing his own voice, he was pained at how weak it sounded, too wavering to have any sort of presence at all. No wonder, then, that Haley had never noticed him, or that Dirk needed to take pity on him …

  Something welled up in his chest and his eyes began to sting, watering from more than the shower spray. Fiercely annoyed at himself, he pressed the heels of both hands against his eyes and refused to move them until the tight feeling passed. Once it had, he got back to his feet, switching the water off and wrapping himself first in a towel, then his blankets again, crawling back into bed. It felt like he remained awake for the rest of the night, but the next thing he knew, someone was knocking at his bedroom door and the light through the windows was brighter and clearer than before.

  “Simon? Are you awake yet?” Haley called.

  He froze in the act of trying to sit up. He could feel himself turning red in spite of himself, and when the doorknob began to turn, he yelped, “I’m up! Don’t come in!”

  The turning paused. “All right,” she said, though she sounded dubious. “Dirk said you were coming with us today?”

  He wanted to refuse — he’d been signed up against his will, he didn’t want to go anywhere with that man! — but instead he burrowed down deeper into his blanket cocoon and said, “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Yes, okay! Yes, I’m c— I’m going!” He blushed harder, scrubbing at his face with his blanket-wrapped hands. “What movie is it?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “No!” he squawked, his voice cracking. He could picture Haley’s face clearly, her eyes wide and her mouth pursed in concern. “I mean, I, I’m getting changed! So you can’t come in!”

  “You could have just said so,” Haley said, but he could hear the faint edge of relief in her voice. “Don’t make it sound like you’re dying or something.”

  “You just surprised me,” he huffed. “So what movie are we going to?”

  “We’ve got choices. There’s some new action thing Dirk wants to see—”

  “That’s fine.” Simon wriggled to the edge of his bed, setting his feet on the floor at last. “I don’t care, I can pay for my own ticket.”

  “So can I. Are you really all right?”

  “I’m fine!” He inched his way to his closet, freeing one arm enough to open the doors. If it was just a movie outing, and if it was some mindless action thing, he’d go for casual. “When is it
?”

  “The matinee’s in forty-five minutes, and we’re going to need at least fifteen to get there. Can you manage that?”

  “Actually, yes,” he huffed. “Are we eating?”

  “There’s breakfast. Dirk made it.”

  He paused at that, his hand on a polo shirt. “Did he?”

  “He’s a good cook,” she said, sounding pleased now. “You wouldn’t guess, looking at him, right?”

  “I guess not …”

  “So if you want any, he made eggs and french toast. Don’t take too long, all right?”

  Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I won’t take that long, Mother,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t mother you if you didn’t need it sometimes,” she shot back. “All right, I’ll see you downstairs.”

  He listened to the sound of her footsteps moving away, then took a deep breath, staring at his closet as if it had insulted him. He really should have said no, he told himself; he should have shot them both down and let them go off to the theater by themselves, where they could sit together and maybe hold hands and who knew what else—

  Simon dressed quickly and somehow managed to only rip one seam in his shirt. He headed downstairs as soon as he was done, not quite stomping into the dining nook. Dirk was at the table, eating a drippy piece of french toast; Haley sat beside him, glasses perched low on her nose, chewing her lip in contemplation of the crossword. When Simon entered, she looked up and tilted her head, looking him over; her lips were still pursed and there was a furrow between her brows. After a few moments he finally seemed to pass muster and she looked up at his face again.

  “There’s toast,” she said. Next to her, Dirk looked up; his cheeks were fat and his mouth was shiny with syrup. “Unless you don’t want something sweet this early.”

  “Sweet’s fine,” he muttered. He shuffled to the stack of them, grabbing himself a plate and a few pieces. The space between his shoulder blades prickled, but when he turned again, Haley had returned her attention to the crossword — it was Dirk watching him now, chewing with what seemed like a slow deliberateness. Something about his gaze was unnerving, and Simon had to wonder for a split second if his sins were literally written across his face: I saw you two, I dreamed about you two, I want more than that.