Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles)

by Derrick, Zoey

  “What happens when a woman tries to take the lead?” I take two more steps toward him.

  “I get nauseous.”

  I take another step toward him and I watch as he stiffens. “What is happening to you right now?” I ask.

  I watch as he swallows hard, so I take a step back, then another. His eyes relax and his body relaxes in response to my backing away from him. “I’m not going to take the lead here, Calvin. You are.”

  His eyes dart to mine, then down my body and back up again.

  “We go only as far as you want this to go. Not a step further. If you want my hands on you, you put them there.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he breathes.

  “Then don’t do anything. I am not and will not force you to do anything with me that you don’t want to, but think about it so far. Dinner last night. You picked it, you told me when and I was there. You kissed me first. Today, I opened the door and you all but jumped on me. I make a move toward you and…”

  “I don’t mean to,” he practically sobs.

  I freeze. “Stop, I know you don’t, Calvin. Jesus, I know.” My heart breaks and I don’t know what to do or say and I know he sees it too.

  “Please don’t, don’t start with the sad eyes, Eric, I can’t, I can’t take them. I can’t…I should go.”

  “No,” I tell him and sigh. “I am sad because I know you don’t mean any of this, I know this isn’t how you want this to be between us. I know you want more, you want us closer together, I know that. Unequivocally I know that and I know that you’re unable to help it, you’re unable to stop your body from reacting in ways that you despise. So please, my sadness is only because you’re upset. Not because you can’t do something.” I take a deep breath. “It was the same thing last night. What you mistook for pain and pity was actually concern and confusion. Jesus Cal, I want so fucking bad to knock this out of you. To let you be the person you want to be, need to be, are destined to be and all I can do is try. All I can do is keep pressing and keep hoping that I won’t turn it into something worse. Drive you away from me.” Tears well in my eyes. “God forbid, push you out of my life forever.”

  He doesn’t respond, he just keeps staring at me. “Say something.” I murmur.

  I watch as he shakes his head and pushes away from the window he’s been leaning on. It’s like watching a slow motion scene where the hottest woman you’ve ever seen is walking in your direction, only without the flowing hair and high-heels. He walks toward me, determination spelled out across his face. I don’t know what his plans are, but I don’t intend to move until I can figure it out.

  He comes to stand in front of me. His eyes lock with mine. “I have complete control?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  His hand grabs the back of my neck and he pulls me down, pressing his lips to mine, hot and hard. Desire, lust, need, desperation explode throughout my body. My dick hardens slightly, lengthening in my jeans. My head starts to swim as his tongue slides along the seam of my lips, coaxing me to open for him. I moan, giving him the opportunity he wants and he slides his tongue in along mine. My breathing hitches and my palms twitch with a desperate need to touch him, but I stay still.

  His hand unfurls from around my neck and slides down along my shoulder, to my arm just as I feel his breathing spike. A hint of fear slides through me as I worry about him, until his other hand cups my arm. He breaks our kiss and I slowly open my eyes.

  His are on fire with need. “Touch me, please, Eric?” he breathes.

  “Where?”

  His hands slide down my arms to my hands where he grabs my wrists and puts them on his hips. “Anywhere,” he pleads.

  I can see the concern in Eric's eyes as he rests his hands on my hips. I know I don't do a very good job of showing it, but having his hands on me feels amazing. "Kiss me," I breathe and his eyes widen momentarily so I grab him by the back of the neck again, bringing his lips to mine and he doesn't hold back. When our mouths clash together, neither one of us is breathing. I put everything I am feeling for him into my kiss, sliding my tongue past his lips and along his. I place my other hand on his shoulder and begin to slowly trace my thumb along his collarbone. He shivers and I feel his hands tighten, pulling me toward him and I slide in closer.

  Then I feel his hands start to tug at my shirt, pulling it up, seeking skin contact and I don't stop him. I want to feel his hands on me, I need to feel them. He gently slides his hands up my t-shirt until he grabs hold of my sides. His fingers are rough, calloused from his bass and I shiver. His breathing hitches again and my head starts to swim and for the first time, my cock starts to harden.

  Panic rises in the back of my throat, unknown emotions, and desire course hotly throughout my body. I'm losing my grip on the here and now. My hands loosen on his body and he freezes. I pull back, breathing heavy. "Shit, I'm…fuck," I growl pulling my body away from his.

  I can hear him fighting to catch his own breath. "What did I do?"

  I don't answer, having to honestly think through what really happened that I lost it before I can answer him. The panic in me is making it harder to breathe so I lean down, putting my hands on my knees and I can feel it. I'm still hard, maybe even harder than I was a few moments ago. Panic, pain, desire, need… Jesus, they're all coursing through me, feelings that I've never felt before and this time the panic was all on me. It wasn't anything that he's done. No, in fact, it's quite the opposite.

  "Calvin, are you alright?" I'm sucking air in but finding very little relief. I can see spots behind my eyes and my legs are growing weaker the longer I let realization of what's actually happened sink in. I try desperately to think of something else, but above anything else in this situation, need and desire are overruling everything else. I feel his hand gently on my back stroking up and down. My heart rate begins to slow, though breathing is still a challenge, the longer he rubs along my back, the more relaxed I'm starting to feel.

  God, he's going to think I'm a complete lunatic. I've had a damn panic attack over an erection. "This…is…so…stupid," I spit between breaths.

  "I highly doubt that. Can you tell me what I did?"

  I actually smile slightly through the deep breaths. "You didn't do anything, Eric. Nothing at all." Now I know I am going to have to explain myself.

  "Then what happened?"

  I take one big deep breath, followed by another. My equilibrium is returning to me and I almost feel comfortable enough to stand up, but then his warm hand slides along my back once again and I would much rather stay bent over like this if it means he keeps touching me. "In all the times that I've started to react, I have never been able to stomach anyone touching me. When, in fact, you touching my back has had the opposite effect. It's comforting."

  "What else can I do?" he asks softly. I can't help but notice the worry in his voice.

  "Don't laugh," I tell him.

  "What on earth would be funny about this?"

  I snort, "Just promise me you won't laugh?"

  I can almost feel him rolling his eyes. "I promise."

  "I got hard." I rush through the words, afraid that my admission will make me sick, but it doesn't.

  "What?"

  I chuckle a little and finally stand up. His hand on my back steadies me momentarily until I look him in the eyes. Then, without a second thought, I grab his free hand and place it over my crotch. "I..got…hard," I say semi-seductively as I watch his eyes widen and he takes in my erection.

  He smiles and I release his hand, but he doesn't release me, instead his eyes grow soft and his hand slides along the bulge in my pants. I hiss through my teeth and claim his mouth once more. Licking his lips, begging him to open for me, his hand leaves my crotch, but I find his wrist and bring it back. "Don't stop," I tell him before I put my lips back on his. He kisses me back with abandon, his hand gently stroking along my shaft. I groan into his mouth and pull back. "I don't know how much more of this I can take," I breathe against his lips
, kissing him again quickly and pulling back. At the same time, his hand comes away from my cock and it jumps. "Only for the fact that I don't know how far this will go between us right now."

  "I want you so bad," he tells me and I smile.

  "It scares me," I tell him honestly.

  "It does me too." He rests his forehead against mine. Being close to him, like this, isn't much of a challenge and I don't know whether it is because I am letting my dick lead this ride, or if there is something unlocking itself inside me. Either way, I'm petrified that the high of Eric is going to wear off and I'm not going to be able to stop before I get to the point of full-on panic. "So why did getting hard scare you?"

  I raise an eyebrow as I pull back from him. "It didn't scare me necessarily. It's just never happened before."

  He gives me a questioning look. "Never?"

  I shake my head. "No, never." I laugh, "Poor girls always have to suck or stroke me hard. Kissing, touching, playing with the bases have never done much for me, at least until we get to the point of naked." I laugh a little harder, "I'm pretty sure I've disappointed my fair share of women who've pulled off my pants to find a soft dick in their face." I take a step back, putting some distance between us. "You know, I'm pretty sure we don't need to talk about them."

  "On the contrary, I think we do." I give him a look. "No, hear me out." I nod for him to continue. "If all you have had to experience since all of this is women, I think that things that have happened with them could be valuable to you in figuring all this out. Like maybe you couldn't get hard while making out with them because they honestly never actually turned you on. Hell, even a woman sucking on my dick gets me hard, but not so much their bodies." I watch as he shivers at more than a few memories of that.

  "Have you always been gay?" I ask him, and he scoffs. "No, seriously, I'm curious. You never had a problem picking up chicks, which I guess is how I could wipe away my attraction for you. A ‘you weren't into guys’ kind of thing."

  Eric motions for me to sit on the couch and I do. He sits down opposite me and I slide closer, our knees touching. He puts his arm along the back of the couch and I put my arm on top of his arm. Holding him. He pauses to look at our connection and then back to me and I give him a smile. I need him to know that while this is intimate between us, this doesn't bother me. It should. "I think I'm finally starting to see the friendship lines blur," I tell him.

  "Explain please?"

  I smile. "After you answer my question."

  He gives me a playfully quizzical look, "What question?"

  "Uh huh, nice try, the one about you always being gay, have you…" I swallow, anticipating the bile feeling in my throat that never comes, "Always been gay?"

  "The simple answer to that question, Cal, is yes. I've known since I was about sixteen. Though girls have never disgusted me and I've even slept with more than a few, I did it because it was the social norm. Especially once I got to college and found you fuckers, and Dex, the way he's always been with his comments and shit. So I hid it. Hid who I knew I was because for me it was easier to play it straight than to play it gay."

  "You certainly don't act gay," I tell him without a thought.

  He doesn't take offense like I worried he would, in fact, he smiles at me. "Not all gay men are ‘gay'," he says with the flick of his wrist. "Some, like me are just gay and male and not much to it. Then again, how many men do you know dye their hair?"

  I can't help but snort a laugh at him. "It's not the dye, it's the fact that you take almost as long as Addison does to get ready."

  "Perfection takes a while."

  The tension is shattered when we both start laughing and slowly my erection subsides, bringing me back to level, slowing the driving urge I have to take this further than I know I'm ready for.

  "PUT some clothes on," Calvin nods at me.

  "Too distracting?" I tease him.

  His answering smile is so bright and happy that my heart warms a little more. "Yes, but I can't take you out to dinner dressed like that."

  I smirk. "Sure you can." He rolls his eyes. "Why go out? Why not stay here?" I say in a sultry voice full of promise.

  He snorts, "Because I don't trust myself for one, and for two, you can't cook worth a fucking damn and I'm starving."

  "You have a point there, but my fingers dial take-out real well." Our arms are still draped over each other’s on the back of the couch and I rub my thumb along his arm.

  He looks at our connection and I can see a smile playing on his lips.

  "Is it getting easier?" I ask softly.

  His eyes meet mine and they are soft with no trace of fear or concern. "This is, yes. I'm not sure about anything else," he says quietly.

  "I'm not concerned about anything else," I tell him without hesitation. "That will come when it's time, when you're ready, when we're both ready."

  That smile that was threatening his lips a moment ago spreads into a nice, soft grin. "I have to tell you that in a way, I feel ready, but…" I watch as he swallows, "There's always that other side threatening to take over."

  I cup his cheek with my free hand and I notice a minuscule flinch, but the small smile on his lips never leaves as my hand touches his skin. "I'm not sure we will ever be able to rid you of that part of you, but I'm willing to try my hardest to help you."

  "I know you are. I just hope it's worth it in the end."

  "For who? You?" I ask.

  "No, for you."

  That has been his argument all along. I gently stroke my thumb along his cheek. "You're so afraid I'm going to run. Calvin, I'm not going anywhere. To be honest with you, whether we end up together for a lifetime or I help you get through this and we part ways, it will all be worth it to me. Though I hope it's not the latter of those two scenarios, I'm willing to accept the fact that I can do this, for you, as a friend. Hell, I would have started years ago if I'd known," I tell him and it's the God's honest truth.

  He doesn't say anything for a few moments and I pull my hand away and watch as he shivers at the loss and my hand tingles to touch him again. "Eric," he breathes. I look at him, cocking my head and I stroke my thumb along his arm in encouragement. "I have to be honest about something."

  "Anything," I tell him.

  "It really wasn't until New York, when you came out to the guys and I saw their reaction, that I really let a lot of this side of me take over. I've been consumed with it since that night. Before that, I had my suspicions about you, but you'd never confirmed them. Yeah, you'd kissed me in the past, but a part of me rationalized it by thinking you were curious or bisexual. Sure, I've had feelings for you for years - thought I didn't know how to process them - but…" He pauses.

  "You locked them away, unsure of what I would think?"

  He gives me a sad smile. "Among other things. I worried about what the guys would say, think. In fact, I worry about it still."

  I smile at him. "I wouldn't worry about them. You saw it with me, even now. Jesus, I knew that walking onto that tour bus would change so many things, but I never, in my wildest imagination, imagined that things would be happening the way they have," I tell him.

  "How so?"

  "Well, Talon and Kyle?" I raise an eyebrow at him and he smirks.

  "No, I definitely didn't see that coming," he agrees.

  "No, I didn't either, but then again, I'm not so sure those two would have ever considered being with each other if Addison hadn't come around. In fact, we have Addison to thank for a lot of shit."

  He cocks his head at me, willing me to explain. Much the same way I had earlier, though in return I just give him a very pointed look. He laughs. "Yeah, I suppose. Dex and Raine - if Addison hadn't come with us, Raine would have never shown up in New York."

  "Tori and Rusty."

  "God, who'd have thought that those two…" he slips into his own thoughts.

  "And if she hadn't encouraged me to come out…"

  "We wouldn't be sitting here, like this," he finishes.

&n
bsp; "Exactly," I agree.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes before I get up. He stops me and leans in, bringing his lips to mine in a soft, ‘don't go' kind of kiss. My head swims with his contact. "I'm just gonna put some clothes on." I give him a smile as I get up off of the couch and head for my bedroom. Once outside of his presence, I take a huge, comforting, cleansing breath, pulling as much air into my lungs as humanly possible.

  There is a huge weight that comes with Calvin, one that I never thought to expect, but it all suddenly makes perfect sense. It makes sense why I couldn't make a move, why he never made one on his own. The fact that we both feel things for each other confirms that my own emotions weren't one sided, which fills me with relief. I knew there was no rhyme or reason for me to have feelings for someone who would never reciprocate.

  Jess and I have talked about it numerous times. She'd been in situations where she'd had feelings for someone, would do almost anything for them, only to be treated like shit and only to be told years later, after the fact, that they were really in love with her but didn't know how to handle it. I'd told her that it was because they didn't have to. She willingly handed over so much of herself that the guys didn't feel the need to work for it. That was until it was gone, then all of a sudden there is so much more to it than what was on the surface.

  In a way, that is how it's been with Calvin all this time. Though I was giving and willing to give him pieces of me, whether he wanted them or not, he wasn't sure how to process them, how to handle them, but all the while, he too was falling in love.

  "You're not doing your hair are you?"

  The sound of his voice makes me jump. "What? No, I just…"

  He grins. "You okay?"

  My answering smile is big and bright. "More than okay. I guess I never really gave myself time to process anything from yesterday until now. Instead I just buried it, got drunk over it and now I actually feel freer than I've felt in years and I don't know how to describe it," I tell him candidly. Something I've always been able to do with him except when it came to my emotions. Like a shy freckle-faced teenager talking to the girl he likes for the first time.