by Lane Hayes
He cocked his head, holding half of his burger in his right hand. “Thanks. I don’t know why, but I feel very comfortable around you. Like I do when I’m with my family. You’re easy.”
I guffawed. “No one says that about me, Alex. I’m no one’s idea of easy.”
“Hmm. Then maybe it’s just me. All the more reason not to be jealous of Marco.”
“Are you trying to tell me you like me?”
Alex chuckled and set his burger down. “Yeah. I like you. And so we’re clear, I’m not interested in being with anyone else. For as long as it seems right, it’s just us. We need to make a new deal. If this isn’t working for either of us, we have to be honest with each other. Okay? It’s been a while since you’ve been with a guy, and maybe you’ll start thinking cock isn’t enough for you. Or that the Mexican Revolution I’m going to spark when I tell my dad what I’m planning on is more than you bargained on. Don’t—” He held up his hand when he saw I was going to argue. “Don’t say it won’t happen.
“What are you planning?”
“I’m doing an interview in a couple months with the LA Times for the center.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m finally going to do it. Coming out in print might not be as thrilling as shouting it out in a stadium filled with thousands of fans but—”
“Everyone will know,” I finished with a grin.
“Yeah. I’m ready. The timing is right. I want to tell my dad first so he isn’t blindsided, but I won’t back down. Not this time.”
“Good. I’ll be there.”
“What do you mean? It’s an interview. Me with a reporter.”
“Yeah, but….” I stalled feeling suddenly self-conscious. “You might want someone in your corner. That’s all. I’ll be there if you want me.”
“Thank you,” Alex said with a small smile.
As we held eye contact, the slow curve of his full lips morphed into a radiant grin. My heart skipped a beat and then another as I returned his smile. I was completely bewitched. There was no other explanation for me tearing open my chest and exposing my heart this way. I was helpless to anything other than see what happened next. And yeah, I was hopeful too.
I WAS nervous our chat about exclusivity would make things feel different between us. I was a relationship-phobe. The Neanderthal in me really liked the idea of having hot sex whenever possible, but I was afraid putting a label on what we shared might make the whole thing go to shit. There were too many negatives. Proximity and convenience could be as much of a deterrent as a bonus. What if he expected more than I could deliver?
I could have come up with a million reasons why this was a bad idea, but the counter argument was too damn convincing. It all came back to Alex. He made everything better. He didn’t worry the way I did. He was quick to laugh at himself and life in general. He didn’t seem to want nor expect more from me. Nor was he overly demonstrative or possessive. He wasn’t just my lover, he was a good friend, whose company I enjoyed. I liked sharing meals, running, surfing, or just hanging out with him. I loved waking up with our legs entangled and his hand on my hip. I loved the way he smelled, the way he moved, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. But more than anything, I loved how he challenged me.
Everything began as a game to Alex. It could start off with a simple bet like “let’s see if you can make it from here to Venice and only speak Spanish.”
“What’s my incentive?”
“A blowjob. If you can do it, I’ll be the giver. If you can’t, I’m the receiver. And no Spanglish. Are you game?”
“Sure, but I have to point out, win or lose, neither end result sounds so bad.”
“But that’s life, isn’t it? It isn’t a matter of winning so much as it’s choosing whether you want option A or option B. Not always, but I think sometimes winning or losing is about perception. What one person considers a prize, another might not be impressed with.”
His logic seemed sound. “So this isn’t about me running farther than I planned or speaking Spanish.”
“It could be both, and it could be ‘to blow or to be blown.’ Up to you how you take any given challenge, Nate.”
I laughed and began counting in Spanish much to Alex’s amusement. Why argue with his unorthodox lesson on what was more important, the journey or the reward? I felt like I couldn’t lose when I was with him.
Ten
BY JANUARY I was beginning to feel anxious. The project was nearing completion, and my time in LA was almost up. I had six weeks or less before my original reason for being here was over. The realization made me more aware than ever of time as a precious commodity. I savored the time I spent with Alex, and I was possessive of it. We had been quiet about our relationship. We’d gone to holiday parties together, and even though a few friends were aware of our liaison, we didn’t advertise. No holding hands. No public displays of affection. Perhaps we guarded our privacy for different reasons, but there was no denying we were both in deep.
It felt so natural to be with him. I rarely questioned the intense attraction. The fact that he was a man didn’t register as significant. Sure, there were important people in my life who still had no idea I was bi, like my brother or my friends from Oxnard, like Julie. But I wasn’t overly concerned. Ryan knew about Scott. And even though I was pretty sure I’d convinced him that had been an episode in youthful curiosity, I doubted he’d blink at my new revelation. Julie was another matter. But not one I wanted to think about now. Why worry about guilt or recriminating sadness when I could revel in Alex.
I laughed at myself, knowing I was no different than the teenage boys and girls from the LGBT center who harbored major crushes on the guy. It was safe to say, I’d caught every single one of them staring at him longingly at one point. I teased him about his fan club initially, but after a couple weeks, I realized they adored Alex because he gave a fuck. He was willing to spend time with them, talk to them, and put up with some back talk and attitude when their own families turned them away. Alex was relentlessly energetic, and he never let anyone walk off the field without giving their best. In return, he gave them his time. Occasionally he’d host a pizza night back at the LGBT center. He’d sit in the middle of the table and chat away about anything from soccer and workout routines to who he thought should have been out on last week’s Dancing with the Stars. I was enchanted. Not once did I look around and think What the hell am I doing? It was becoming the norm for me to feel out of my element.
The one place I never felt out of sync was when we made love. And yes, that’s what it was. I knew the phrase fit more than “fucking” or “having sex,” but I didn’t use it aloud. I tried to show what I couldn’t say yet. One such night I moved inside Alex with a fiery longing as though the physical act could somehow get me closer to something just out of reach. I held his hips steady as I flattened my body over his and thrust deeply inside him. He seemed to understand my desire to be impossibly close. He arched against me as he wrapped his arms around my neck. I could feel the reverberation of his sighs and heavy breathing through his chest as he buried his face in my shoulder. The steady rhythm wasn’t frenzied, but every movement felt poignant. Each stroke, each push and pull was its own glorious approach to something bigger than us. He clawed at my ass, clenching his muscles around my cock when he came with a roar. I felt the hot spill of his release between us as he quaked beneath me and knew my own orgasm was close. A slight tingling sensation was followed by a wave of pleasure so intense it left me feeling weightless and disoriented well after the trembling stopped.
I fought to catch my breath and find the strength to move off my lover. Alex chuckled as he squeezed my cock in his ass and lifted his right leg higher to roll us over so he lay on top of me. He overpowered me easily and smiled down at me with a maniacal look in his eyes.
“Mmm, sexy,” he purred, leaning forward to trace my brow with the side of his hand. “I like it best when you’re wearing your glasses, though. My fantasy about Cla
rk Kent fucking me becomes reality.” He waggled his eyebrows teasingly.
“Clark Kent? Why not Superman? I know I’m lacking the muscle for that role but—”
I arched my back and tried to switch our positions so I was on top, but it was useless. Alex was much stronger than me. There was no moving him without his cooperation. Definitely something I had to get used to in bed.
“Because I’m Superman, silly,” he taunted with a laugh.
I stared up at his smug expression. His extraordinarily handsome face was framed by a halo of messy hair, making him look more like a dark angel than ever. I had a sudden thought Alex was very adept at the art of giving in ways I hadn’t begun to consider. He could easily overpower me in bed if he wanted. I knew there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to flip me on my stomach and bury his cock in my ass. I flattened my palms to massage the inside of his thighs resting against my stomach and wondered idly if that’s what I needed to get closer. To feel him move inside me.
“What are you thinking? You look starry-eyed and out of it.”
“I am. Are you going to get up any time soon?”
“No. I’m comfortable. Thanks.”
“I’m still wearing a condom.”
“Is that a threat?” His thick eyebrows waggled suggestively. “I’m pretty sure that one’s a goner.”
“You’re disgusting. C’mon, move it so I can get cleaned up.”
“Make me.”
“Alex.”
“Go on. Move me.”
I huffed in exasperation and muttered something about him making everything into a game, much to his amusement. He chuckled and crossed his arms over his smooth muscular torso and looked down at me with renewed challenge. I bent my knees and flattened my feet on the mattress before trying again in vain to switch our positions.
“Alex.” I used my best “stop fucking around voice,” but it only made him laugh harder.
When he threw his head back, I pounced, upending him and deftly disengaging our bodies. His eyes sparked with merriment and appreciation.
“Damn. That’s hot. Where are you going? This is getting good.”
I found my glasses on the nightstand next to his bed and gave him a mock dirty look before heading to the bathroom to clean up. He smiled when I handed him a damp washcloth, then patted the empty space beside him.
“Aren’t you tired? I should probably go back to my place.”
“Nate, lay the fuck down, and stay naked, please. I’m exhausted, but I don’t want you to go. Come tell me about your day. I promise I won’t wrestle with you anymore.”
I rolled my eyes in mistrust, but I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. He was too hypnotic. I settled next to him and lay on my side, mirroring his position. It felt right to be here like this. My head wanted to make sense of why and how, but my heart wasn’t interested.
“Thanks for helping out today. The kids like you.”
“Hmph. They put up with me at best. You’re the main attraction. I doubt any of them would bother if you weren’t there.”
“Yes, they would. Teenagers are just overgrown kids. Set aside the hormones and acne, and they’re children who want to be included. They want to know someone’s there, even if it’s only to give them the opportunity to tell ’em to fuck off.”
“You like a challenge, don’t you?”
He chuckled good-naturedly. “True, but I know I’m right. So-called well-adjusted families put up with teen attitude and gripe about their sweet babies’ hopefully temporary lapse into hormone hell. But no one ever says it’s easy, right? God knows how my parents put up with me.”
“Were you a rotten teenager?” I smiled. It was hard to imagine Alex being anything but good-natured.
“Not really, but I’m sure I had my moments. My mom was the perfect go-between when things got tense with my dad and me. She was….”
“Hmm?”
“A voice of reason. She was always happy. Always laughing. She made him see humor in things when he got too serious.”
“You take after her, huh?”
His smile lit his face to perfection. “Yes. I look like her too. She was taller than my dad and had long curly black hair. She was….”
His eyes watered as he struggled to continue. When he spoke his voice was thick with emotion. “More than I can ever be. Losing her was the worst thing that ever happened to my family. It’s not just a personal thing. As a group we’re a sad little thing compared to what we once were. It’s crazy to know how much each person brings to a family. How important they are. I mourn her every day.” He gave a half laugh and pushed his hand through his hair. “Maybe it’s the Catholic in me. Who knows? I’m sad for what I don’t have, but I’m a selfish fuck. At least I knew my mother. I knew she loved me. And my dad’s a prickly ass, but he’s still willing to be part of my life. The kids at the center? They have nothing. They’re babies starting from scratch. It’s fucking criminal. You’re right. I love a challenge. But it’s a really cool thing when what used to make you sweat with nerves becomes something you look forward to. And trust me, tatted teens with more bravado than sense used to scare the crap out of me too.”
“They still scare me a little. Eli looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kick my ass or cry when I told him we were together together.”
Alex sat up on his elbow and gave me a stunning smile. “I’m assuming the double ‘together’ means you had a more in-depth discussion this time. You told Eli what exactly?”
I furrowed my brow and took my glasses off. They were digging into my nose, and though I couldn’t see well without them, I could use the hazy visual. I had a feeling this topic was going to make me blush.
“You heard me. He asked… whatever.”
“What did he ask?”
“He asked if we were together, but because he’s a sixteen-year-old shit who enjoys making me squirm, he kept going and asked if you fucked me or I fucked you.”
Alex barked out a laugh and sprang into a sitting position. He leaned over and kissed me before asking nonchalantly how I answered.
“I didn’t! The kid is a menace. He was trying to get under my skin.”
“So, you didn’t tell him you fucked me? Or that you can’t wait to get my cock in your ass?”
“No! Geez, Alex.” I gave him a warning stare, then looked away. “I just… I told him you were my… boyfriend.”
I plucked at the duvet nervously. We hadn’t used the word yet, and I wasn’t sure how to read his silence over the sound of my heartbeat.
“Wow. I’m speechless.”
“Me too. I didn’t intend to but—hey, where are you going?”
Alex kissed my nose as he crawled over me to climb out of bed. “I’ll be right back. We need something to celebrate.”
I crossed my arms behind my head waiting for him to return. My ears perked up at the sound of a piano playing. I reached for my glasses and headed out to the great room to investigate.
Alex sat naked at the piano with his arms stretch over the keys. The music was sweet and mellow. Something I knew but couldn’t place right away. I came up behind him in the darkened room and set my hands on his shoulders. I could see his smile in the reflection of the bank of windows and belatedly realized I was giving Santa Monica a clear frontal view. I hastily bumped him aside to hide myself behind the piano. Alex chuckled merrily beside me, completely relaxed with his own nudity as he leaned into me affectionately.
“Geez, Alex. Everyone can see us!”
“Who cares? Let ’em look!” He switched the tempo to something jazzier.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I came to get ice cream, but then I saw the piano and decided to try something while we pig out. Help yourself.” He nodded toward the pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream perched on the other side of the bench.
“No thanks. I don’t like ice cream. I can feed you.”
He stopped playing immediately and turned to give me an incredulous glare. “That’s
not possible.”
I shrugged and picked at the keys nearest me. “I’m lactose intolerant. I’m sure I’ve told you a few dozen times already.”
“Hmph,” he snorted. “I can’t believe I hang out with a non-ice cream eater.”
“Ha-ha. Pass the carton over. I’ll feed you.”
He handed over the ice cream and opened his mouth when I placed the spoon on his lips. “Mmm. Yum. You’re missing out.”
“Trust me. You’re better off with me not eating this stuff.” I laughed and set the carton between us as I watched his fingers fly. “What are you trying out here?” I asked, inclining my head toward the piano.
“I want to give you something. A song. A piece of music. Something for you to remember me. I don’t want you to hear Beethoven and feel sad about things that never could be. I want to give you… hope.”
I couldn’t speak. It wasn’t like Alex to use clips and phrases or to allude to flowery visions. I stared at him for a long moment before I found my voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Things don’t always work out, but the one thing I learned from my mother was that music—” He paused and lifted his fingers gracefully before playing the lighthearted Charlie Brown theme. “—sets the mood. She played Moonlight Sonata because she loved it. She said it reminded her of walking with my dad at the beach when they first came to California. The tone seems so forlorn to most, but she insisted it meant hope to her. For me it’s a beautiful woman who left me too soon. It should embody sadness, but I hear her laughing at my dad, telling him to lighten up, and it makes me smile. It’s a sweet memory.
“I can’t chase away bad memories, Nate, but I want to give you something to celebrate today. It might not seem like a big deal, but sharing who you are with Eli, telling him you care about another man, it means something. Every time you hear it, you’ll remember the time you were stronger than you thought you ever could be. Game?”
“Game? Why is it a game?” I gulped around the emotion I could hear in my voice and smiled wanly at this incredibly gorgeous naked man next to me. He was such a mystery to me. I didn’t understand this roller-coaster ride. How had we gone from writhing in ecstasy to sitting naked with a carton of ice cream between us discussing the significance of music and memory?