by John Inman
“That’s not true,” Joe said. “Mr. Wong’s your friend.”
Ned snorted. “Mr. Wong’s not my friend. He’s my boss. He just happens to be a nice one.” A comfortable silence settled between them. They sipped their beers and nibbled on a few chips while Joe tried not to concentrate too hard on the feel of Ned’s lean thigh pressed up against his own. The air around them was redolent of the scents of soap and shampoo. They were both as clean as a couple of whistles.
Ned’s nearest hand was resting on his own leg now, as if he didn’t know where else to put it. Swallowing away a burst of fear, Joe laid his hand over it and gave it a squeeze. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re safe, and I’m glad you’re staying over.”
“Me too,” Ned whispered, while a crooked smile curved his lips.
Ned had said those two little words so quietly Joe had to lean in closer to hear them. All the time he was leaning in, he never lifted his hand from Ned’s. In fact, he let his thumb slide down to caress the web of flesh between Ned’s thumb and index finger. The blond hairs on the back of Ned’s hand all but sparked against the palm of his hand, like a surge of electricity. Joe thought maybe he had never done anything so erotic in all his life as the simple act of resting his hand over Ned’s.
Ned sat quietly, his pale blue eyes riveted on their two hands nestled together. While Joe sifted through his brain for something halfway intelligent to say, Ned turned to stare at the living room window. Only then did Joe realize Ned had pulled the drapes shut while Joe was showering. In the nighttime skies beyond the walls of his tiny apartment, Joe could hear the raucous, desperate cries of all the birds still circling endlessly overhead. Ned was right when he said the poor things must be exhausted.
But it was another sound that truly captured Joe’s attention. It was the tiny intake of breath Ned gave just before he opened his mouth to speak.
Joe turned to him in time to see his lips move as he said, “I’m glad you asked me to stay with you, Joe. Those dogs really rattled me.”
There was such emotion in that simple statement that Joe could only offer a nod in response. Rather than answer, he clutched Ned’s hand a little tighter while weaving their fingers together until they were firmly connected. After taking a moment to appreciate Ned’s fine-boned hand in his, Joe offered, “You’re safe now. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
“I know. I’m not.”
A hiccup in the power grid made the lights dim, but it only lasted a second. The fridge in the kitchen fell oddly silent before the motor kicked back on with a whirr. Joe almost smiled when Ned tensed and tucked his fingertips into the palm of Joe’s hand as if making himself ready for whatever might happen next. Farther down, Ned’s toes edged closer until they touched the side of Joe’s foot. In turn, Joe moved his foot closer too.
They sat there listening while the fridge cranked back up to full power. It was Ned who finally broke the silence. “What do you think is going to happen, Joe?”
Joe shifted nearer until he had four points of connection with Ned: hands, feet, legs, shoulders. And still they weren’t nearly as close as Joe wanted them to be.
“You mean with the red stuff or with us?” Joe asked.
Ned blushed. “I mean the red stuff.”
Joe tried not to be disappointed by the answer. He would far rather be talking about the two of them. But he had to try to calm the disquiet in Ned’s eyes. The thought of Ned still being frightened made Joe ache inside. In fact, he couldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t.
“I think it will turn out fine,” Joe said. He wasn’t quite sure he believed that at all, but for Ned’s sake he had to say it. The words were barely out when, with a moment of further reflection, he decided he honestly did believe it. Or at least he wanted to. “Whatever is happening in space—like a sun storm and sunspots and all that stuff scientists talk about—I think it’s just a monkey wrench God threw in the works to keep us on our toes. We were getting a little too rambunctious, maybe. He had to cool our jets a little.”
Ned grinned. “Are your jets cooled?”
Far from it. Joe’s gaze settled on their clasped hands, then slid down to their bare feet propped against each other on the table. Those two contact points of Ned’s skin touching his were sending an endless hormonal surge through Joe’s body, and most of it seemed to be centered on his crotch. For the last few minutes, he had been holding his beer in his lap for no other reason than to hide the erection that had snuck up on him about five minutes before, although hiding it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Spotting a familiar line of red flesh under Ned’s hair, Joe twisted around to face him. He reached up and gently separated the hair to better see the scar at the side of Ned’s scalp. Ned flinched. His gaze burrowed into Joe’s, but he sat obediently still, trembling like a nervous pet being caressed by an unfamiliar hand. Ned didn’t pull away when Joe stirred through his hair, exposing that which Ned was obviously most embarrassed about. Joe had been watching Ned treat that scar like it was something to be ashamed of since they first met. Until this moment, for Ned’s sake, Joe had never acted as if he’d noticed. Had never acted as if he had the least interest in knowing how the scar came to be there.
Now, for the first time, without warning or apology, Joe laid a careful fingertip atop the scar, testing the puckered flesh, absorbing the rigid texture of it. Ned’s eyes narrowed as if he was fighting the urge to flinch while Joe dragged his finger over the rippled wound. With Ned’s eyes dead center on his own, Joe got the sense that Ned was offering the weakest part of himself to Joe, to be done with as Joe deemed fit. Joe was stunned by the emotion he read in Ned’s gaze. The total, unrelenting trust.
“You’ve never told me how you got this,” Joe whispered. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Ned whispered back. “Not yet.”
“Do you mind me touching it?”
“No, Joe. I don’t mind. I—I like the way your finger feels on my skin.”
Joe smiled and laid his hand flat to the side of Ned’s head. For a second or two, Ned leaned his head into the caress.
“Do you like that too?” Joe asked softly.
Ned slowly blinked, as if in contentment. “You know I do.”
Joe set his beer bottle aside and with beer-chilled fingers brushed Ned’s hair back away from his eyes. It wasn’t wet anymore. Ned’s hair was dry and fluffy and soft. With his heart hammering in his chest, Joe leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ned’s scar. The moment his lips touched it, Ned shivered and closed his eyes.
“Ned?” Joe breathed, still caressing Ned’s ear, the side of Ned’s head, his lips still brushing Ned’s scar.
“Hmm?”
“Do you know why I asked you to spend the night?”
Ned opened his eyes. He cleared his throat as if he had almost forgotten how to talk. “Because I was scared, and you didn’t want me to be alone?”
Joe smiled a sad little smile, which Ned stared at with widening eyes. “No, Ned. I asked you to stay with me because I was scared and because I didn’t want to be alone.”
Ned offered a tiny frown. “I’ve never seen you scared of anything.”
“I’m scared of one thing,” Joe said.
“What’s that?”
Joe pulled back to study Ned’s face. He slid his thumb over Ned’s lips as an uncontrollable urge to gauge their softness took him over. He gave Ned’s chin a gentle squeeze between his thumb and forefinger. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to lay his lips to Ned’s mouth. But he still didn’t know if he was welcome there. And how the hell would he ever know if he didn’t just come right out and ask?
“I’m afraid of you,” Joe said, his gaze once again settling onto Ned’s pale blue eyes. Joe wasn’t sure, but he thought he could feel their two hearts thumping in tandem. The time had come to say what he’d waited so long to say. Ned was sitting there. He was being receptive. There would never be a better time.
Please God, let Ned be ready to
listen. And please God, let him want the same thing I want.
JOE’S FACE was so handsome and perfect hovering over his it almost pulled the breath from Ned’s body. He raised his hand and laid it flat on Joe’s cheek. The stubble of a sprouting beard scraped at the tender skin on the palm of his hand. Joe’s beard was dark and bristly while Ned’s was pale and soft as cotton. The prickle of Joe’s unshaven jaw sent a shudder of desire rumbling through him so strong, Ned had to hold his breath for a moment to deal with it. Once he had processed that piece of wonderment, Ned began to sift through the words Joe had spoken.
Some of the things Joe said had dug their way into Ned’s heart and made him happier than he could ever remember being. Was it possible that Joe really did think about him in the same way Ned thought about Joe?
“Please don’t be afraid of me,” Ned said impulsively. He stared up into Joe’s eyes, feeling the warm fragrant brush of Joe’s clean breath blowing across his face. “Whatever you want, I want it too.”
“Are you sure?” Joe asked. “Are you really sure about that? Do you even know what it is I want?”
Ned smiled without fear. The absolute certainty of that smile lay there on his face, spread wide, offering more of himself to Joe than he had ever offered to anyone. By the understanding burning at the back of Joe’s eyes, he thought maybe Joe knew it. At least he hoped he did.
“You never have to be afraid of me,” Ned said, pushing a little harder. He laid his hand on Joe’s broad chest and immediately felt the tremor of Joe’s heart thundering inside. “And I think maybe I don’t have to be afraid of me anymore either.”
He watched as Joe chewed on his bottom lip with his neat white teeth. His eyes slipped away from Ned’s face and traveled over the apartment—to the door, the window, farther away to the mirror he could see in the bathroom that was still steamed up from their showers. Apparently Joe couldn’t find what he was searching for anywhere else, so in the end his hazel eyes wandered back to Ned. Ned thought they were the widest, most wondrous eyes he had ever seen. He loved being their focus. He loved the way they infused him with heat.
“Do you really want me to tell you how I feel?” Joe asked. There was a quaver in his voice, like he was suffering from stage fright. And for all Ned knew, maybe he was.
“You have to tell me, Joe. I don’t think I can live now if you don’t.”
Joe grinned. “You’re always so melodramatic.”
“Am I?” Ned asked, but there was no humor in the question. It was simply a sincere desire to understand.
Once again, Joe’s eyes peeled away to travel the apartment, seeking—what, Ned wondered. Courage? Permission? A way to escape?
Still, Joe hesitated to say what he was really thinking.
Ned twisted around on the sofa and leaned in, laying his forehead against Joe’s chest. A sigh came all the way up from the pit of his stomach when Joe’s arms automatically wrapped themselves tight around him, holding him in place.
“Ask me, Joe,” Ned whispered, his lips brushing the threadbare fabric of Joe’s T-shirt. It was little more than a rag, the poor thing. It felt terribly fragile, as if one more wash would make it disintegrate into dust. Still, Ned loved its softness against his skin. “Ask me before I lose the courage to listen.”
Joe paused, his hand at the nape of Ned’s neck. Ned could sense him thinking. Finally he spoke. “Like I told you before, Ned. I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m… wrong about you.”
Ned pressed his face harder into Joe’s chest. Joe couldn’t really see him there, and that was the way Ned liked it. It gave him the courage to place a sly kiss on the shirt fabric. It gave him the courage to taste it on his lips without Joe really knowing.
Suddenly he didn’t want to hide anymore. The cowardice Ned had lived with for so many years seemed to simply slip away. He was ready to face the truth now. The truth about himself. The truth about Joe. The truth about the two of them together.
He tilted his head up and studied Joe’s face. “You can’t be wrong about me, Joe, because whatever you want me to be, that’s what I want to be too.”
Joe’s eyes were the saddest Ned had ever seen. “I’m not just afraid of you, Ned. I’m afraid for me too. I don’t want you to break my heart,” Joe sighed. “I guess that’s really what it boils down to.”
“Breaking a heart would imply… feelings,” Ned carefully answered.
“Yes,” Joe said, his eyes troubled, his mouth tense. “Feelings.” There was a faint tremble in Joe’s chin that captured Ned’s attention.
Ned’s eyes began to burn. His vision blurred behind rising tears. “Feelings for me, Joe?”
And Joe nodded. “Yes. Feelings for you.”
Ned’s breath caught, and before he could analyze how he felt, he said, “I feel them for you too. I think I always have.”
They sat motionless on Joe’s couch, each eyeing the other. Not wary, just entranced. Slowly, Ned’s mouth twisted into a smile.
JOE COULDN’T believe he had finally said the words. He felt like… well, he wasn’t really sure how he felt. But he did know Ned had sat there patiently, letting him say what he wanted to say. And then Ned had spoken the very same words back to him. Like Joe had always imagined he might. And wonder of wonders, Ned was still sitting there, he was still holding on to Joe, gazing up at him now through sparkling eyes with that strange little smile on his face. He didn’t look upset, or shocked, or even hardly surprised. Just happily content to be where he was. In Joe’s arms.
In Joe’s heart.
Joe opened his mouth to say something else—he wasn’t sure what—but before he could figure out what it should be, Ned laid his fingers over Joe’s lips, silencing him.
Ned’s pale eyelashes were wet with tears. His eyes were bright and shiny and so focused on Joe’s face that Joe thought he could feel the heat of them burning into his skin. Ned’s hands came up behind Joe and rested on his back.
Joe cupped Ned’s face and tilted his head up. The movement caused a tear to spill down Ned’s cheek. Joe carefully laid his lips to it and kissed it away. Ned shuddered. Then Joe was shuddering too.
“It’s been so long, I’m practically new at this,” Ned whispered. “Making love. Being with somebody.”
“Me too,” Joe whispered back. “Don’t be afraid.”
At that, Ned finally laughed. “I’m a million things right now, but afraid isn’t one of them.”
“Good.” Joe smiled, and without warning, his kiss slid inward across Ned’s tear-soaked cheek and came to rest on Ned’s lips. With the faintest startled gasp, Joe felt Ned’s mouth accept the kiss.
It was their first real kiss. Joe was scared to death. Ned was too, Joe thought, even though he said he wasn’t. But neither let their fear stop them. The kiss went on and on as they sat there on Joe’s beat-up couch and clung to each other.
The kiss only ended when Ned tugged at Joe’s T-shirt, trying to lift it over Joe’s head.
A moment later, on wobbly legs, Joe led Ned to the bed, flicking off lights along the way.
They quickly shed their clothes in a flurry of activity that left them naked and trembling, staring at each other in the narrow oblong of illumination from the streetlight outside.
Joe gasped when Ned stepped forward and slipped naked into his arms for the very first time.
Lost in the wondrous heat of Ned’s satin flesh, Joe tumbled backward onto the bed, dragging Ned down along with him.
In a rush of laughter and soul-searing joy, they twisted around in opposite directions on the bed and tasted each other for the very first time.
And later, when their juices spilled and they cried out loud, each in the arms of the other, Joe felt himself melt into the flesh of the man he held. The man he clung to and emptied himself into.
Ned’s seed was the sweetest Joe had ever tasted. The receiving of it was the single most unforgettable act of Joe’s twenty-nine years on the planet. He knew how special it was, even while his own body still convulsed wit
h release. Even as they drank from each other with equal hunger, equal desperation. In the midst of it all, Joe understood one inescapable fact.
The memory of this night would be with him forever.
Afterward, Joe lay silently in the dark, still caressing the man who lay exhausted in his arms. Gratified, and still a little amazed, he thought back to everything that had happened. At every single moment of the time they had spent naked in each other’s arms making love.
“Joe!” Ned had gasped, just as his back arched and his seed exploded from his body. “Joe!”
Joe smiled now and pressed his face to Ned’s warm belly, inhaling Ned’s scent. He closed his eyes, wishing none of this would ever end. And when Ned’s arms slid around him to hold him close, Joe gave the faintest whimper of contentment.
It was the last sound either of them made before sleep found them. But even sleep couldn’t hold them for long. As the night began to die and resurrect itself as morning—if the world still had a morning left to offer—they drank from each other again. Lying together later, secure in the cocoon of Ned’s gentle embrace, Joe knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that in this one single night, his life had changed.
He wrapped Ned reverently in his arms and held him snug to his chest. Ned’s smile brushed the skin at the base of his throat, and his eyelashes tickled Joe’s neck. Ned planted a kiss there with gentle, worshipping lips. It was just a little kiss. Almost an afterthought after everything else that had happened between them.
But the words Ned began to speak in the darkness were not an afterthought at all. They clearly came from his heart.
As Joe listened, he nested his lips in Ned’s hair. At home there and happy, he breathed in the scent of the man in his arms and let Ned’s words pour through him like smoke.