by Lina Langley
Cyrus looks at me. “Yes,” he says. He’s still on his back and now he’s lifting up the lower half of his body so that I have easier access to his to him.
“Do you want—”
He smirks at me. “You know I don’t have a prostate, right?”
I smile at him. “I just didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
“I want to do this,” I say. I’ve been hesitating, so he extends his arm and grabs my cock, guiding me into him. I feel like I’m going to come the second I’m inside of him, and then he tilts his head back and groans loudly.
It takes me a second to get my bearings, because this is a lot, and I don’t know how much of it I can take. I lean down so I can kiss him as I thrust into him, his hips moving while I fuck him. We’re staring into each other’s eyes when I realize I’m not going to be able to last much longer, not while he looks like this, not while he feels like this.
He bites his lower lip and his gaze meets mine. “Are you going to come inside me?”
“If you want me to. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” he says. “It’s more than okay.”
“Cy—”
“I want you to.”
He’s quiet and I lean forward to kiss him on the mouth before I start moving faster, fucking him harder, and then I can feel the orgasm building up inside of me as he moans and screams, his body twisting under me, his skin flushing, his fingernails digging into my back and my name on his lips. I can feel the pleasure spreading from my core to the tips of my fingers, to the bottom of my toes. I can’t feel anything but electrical explosions through my body, my orgasm so intense that I don’t think I can hear or see anything else.
When I’m done, I roll off Cyrus. I notice that I’m panting. He grabs my hand, our fingers interlacing. I don’t look at him. My mind is racing, and I’m thinking about what I just did, what it means. I know I need to ask him, but a huge part of me is too scared to say anything.
“Alex,” he says. I swallow and turn to look at him. “Hey. Don’t be scared.”
I bite my lower lip. “It’s like you can read my mind.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he says. “Thank you for coming to talk to me.”
I nod and turn to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you the space you needed,” I say. “I wanted to, I just…”
“Couldn’t stay away from me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a smile. His face is covered in sweat, his cheeks are red and his eyes are glimmering. “Yeah, couldn’t stay away from you.”
He exhales deeply. “Does this change things between us?”
“Yes,” I say. “If you want it to.”
He smiles at me. “Maybe,” he says, then kisses me on the lips again. “Maybe I want it to.”
CONTINUE
I have to talk to Montgomery. I know that we didn’t have anything, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. Cyrus and I don’t talk much after what happened between us, but I don’t know if I want to. There’s something that feels like it’s hanging in the balance. If I spoke to him, everything feels like it could go wrong.
I’m watching the door when I hear him kill his bike outside. He walks in, takes off his helmet and walks toward his bedroom. “Montgomery,” I say. “Wait.”
He looks up at me. “What?”
“Can we talk?”
“You’re talking, choirboy,” he replies, raising his eyebrows. “What do you want to say?”
I take a deep breath. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. “I, uh, look,” I say. “I appreciate that you have a crush on me.”
He laughs. “What am I supposed to say to that?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I just… it’s not, it’s not you. It’s me.”
“Wow,” he says. “And we haven’t even broken up yet.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m serious,” I say. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I, you’re cool, but I have too much going on.”
“I know,” he replies. “You’re going to be a priest.”
I nod and swallow. “Yes and I slept with Cyrus.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Say again?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have, but after we talked, I—”
He holds up his hand. “Ouch,” he says. “I mean, we’re not dating, and this whole honesty thing seems unnecessary.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I just wanted things to be clear between us.”
He smiles. When he speaks again, he’s quiet. I’m certain I’ve upset him but I don’t know how to make it better. “There was nothing between us,” he says, then puts a hand over his heart. “Now I’m hurt. Thanks a lot, choirboy.”
“No,” I say. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “No,” he says. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You and Cyrus, you two are very cute together. I always expected something like that. I mean, I expected you to leave me for Jesus, in any case. Cyrus is the next best thing.”
I watch him. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“Sure,” he says, a smile on his face. Then he looks me up and down and wets his lips. “Are you going to leave him?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“For Jesus,” he says. “Are you going to leave Cyrus for Jesus?”
I blink. “That’s not how it works,” I say, more to myself than to him. When I look back up, he’s gone to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
CONTINUE
I call Cyrus, but he sends me to voicemail. When I’m about to call him again, I get a long text from him.
Hey, babe. Just need some space, okay? I don’t want to make things weird between us, but I don’t think I can help myself right now.
I type a message back immediately. Can we talk?
There’s nothing to talk about, he replies. And this isn’t giving me space.
I’m going to miss you so much.
When? Cyrus replies.
When you’re gone, I type, then delete it. When I’m gone, I type again. When I’m giving you space. I settle for that one and send it off.
Right, he replies. Well, this is what I was talking about. I can’t do this, Alex.
What?
Pretend everything is okay. Pretend everything is normal. I love you, but I can’t do this to myself.
I swallow. I love you too.
I’m serious, he replies. I need you to leave me alone.
With that, he logs off, and I’m left looking at my blindingly light screen.
I try to ignore the tears in my eyes as I grab my laptop, which is sitting precariously on my dresser.
I grab it, sit on my bed and glare at the screen. It’s bright and I feel like it’s going to give me a headache.
This is what I need to do. I know it’s what I need to do. I type in my password and my computer takes a second or two to log me in. It’s enough time to make me rethink this. Maybe I can talk to Cyrus. Maybe I can make all the pain go away. I go on the seminary’s website, the green and blue logo prominent everywhere I go. There’s no way I can escape this now. I log into the site and click on the admissions button.
This is it. All I have to do is put in a deposit and I’m in. I sigh as I look at what they need from me.
“This is what you’ve always wanted,” I tell myself. “Just pull the trigger.”
I look at my phone, which hasn’t rung or beeped. There are no notifications lights blinking on it. Cyrus isn’t going to reach out to me and I just need to come to terms with that.
I finish inputting my credit card number and the website starts to celebrate, little graphic streamers appearing out of nowhere.
Congratulations, Alejandro Del Bosque! We look forward to seeing you in September for orientation.
There’s more after that, but I don’t read any of it. I slam my laptop shut, put it on my bed and lie down next to it.
This is goo
d, I tell myself as I stare at the popcorn ceiling. This is what you’ve always wanted.
Maybe if I say it enough times, it’ll start sounding like the truth.
CONTINUE
I call Lawrence a few weeks later, when I’ve spent most of my time fucking around and doing nothing. I could go to the airport alone, but I don’t think I want to do that. I don’t think I want to face this by myself. I would have rather reconciled with Cyrus by now, but it’s not looking like it’s going to happen.
Lawrence picks up the phone almost immediately after I call him. “Alejandro,” he says. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “It’s been a minute.”
“It has,” he says. “How has your summer been thus far?”
I want to reply that it has been weird and I sort of wish it hadn’t happened, but that’s not really any of his business. “It’s been okay,” I say. “I need a favor.”
“Sure,” he says. “What can I do for you?”
I swallow. Any other time, I would have asked Cyrus to take me to the airport, but not now. There’s no way I can ask Cyrus to do anything for me now. “I need you to drop me off,” I say. “Before I go to seminary. I don’t—I don’t want to take a taxi to the airport.”
There’s a pause before he answers. “Of course,” he says. “That’s absolutely no problem.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he reiterates. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” I say. “I thought I would be more excited by now.”
“You’re not,” he says. It’s not a question, but I can tell that he’s probing.
I swallow. “There are a few things that are going on in my personal life,” I say. “I think they might be making me feel less excited about it than I should be.”
He waits for a few seconds. “Do you want to talk about?”
I lick my lips. I didn’t realize how dry and chapped my lips are. “I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about,” I say. “My best friend and I are sort of in a fight and I’m worried that I’m going to leave without making up with him.”
“And you feel like you can’t reach out to him so that you can reconcile?”
“I’m… I don’t know how to apologize,” I reply. “I don’t know where to start. But I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”
He laughs quietly. “I asked,” he says. “And I’m glad I did. Because it seems to me like you needed to talk.”
I smile. “Yeah,” I reply, knowing I won’t talk any more about this. “Thank you. This is helpful.”
“Of course,” he says. “Just send me the details and I’ll make sure to pick you up.”
“Okay,” I say. I can feel a tug at the corner of my lips. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“Don’t worry, Alejandro,” he says. “You’re not alone.”
I thank him again and scramble to get off the phone, because I’m pretty sure that if I keep talking to him, I’m going to burst into tears and make a fool of myself. I stare at the phone after I’ve hung up and then lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Lawrence is right, I need to speak to Cyrus, and nothing is going to feel okay until I do so.
I grab my phone and scroll until I get to Cyrus’ contact card. He’s smiling at me in his picture. I don’t know how many times I’ve just looked at his picture and thought about getting in touch with him.
I press my finger on the call button and sigh. I expect that he won’t pick up, but he does, after only a ring.
“Alex,” he says. “Hello.”
“Hey,” I say. I should have been more prepared for him to pick up, but I really thought he was going to send me to voicemail. I swallow. “Cy, can you talk?”
“Sure,” he replies, then takes a long time before he says anything else. “What?”
“I—I’m going to leave soon,” I say. “And I just, I don’t know, I guess I just wanted everything to be okay between us.”
He sighs. “Alex—”
“I miss you,” I say. “Everything is going to change once I leave. I just want things to be okay between us.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m leaving before you.”
I blink. “You are?”
“Yes,” he says. “There’s nothing left for me here.”
“Cy—”
“Or for you,” he says. “Good luck, Alex.”
Then he hangs up the phone. Now I can feel the tears on my face. I don’t think there’s any way for me to fix this, so maybe it’s better if I just go and don’t try anymore.
CONTINUE
I’m sitting in Lawrence’s car and trying my best to make it seem like I’m not struggling with this decision. My bags are in the back of his SUV and they keep moving around the vehicle every time he takes a turn. Montgomery gave me a hug before I went and told me not to be too good, so I had a smile on my face until we took a corner and stopped seeing my apartment building. I’m leaving my life behind and I should be happy, but I’m not. I’m just worried about what life is going to be like when I get there. I haven’t yet made arrangements for when I get there, except for a room for a week in a motel, which should allow me to do that.
I should feel relieved. I don’t feel relieved, I feel the pit growing in my stomach as we get closer and closer to the airport. Lawrence looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I say, shifting my weight. “Things are still weird between my friend and me.”
“Do you want me to stop at his place? Before you go,” he says.
I look at him, my eyes widening. I never thought I would have an opportunity to make it up to Cyrus. I don’t know if this will, but maybe it will clear the air with him.
“You still have some time,” he says. “Before your flight takes off.”
“Okay,” I say. “Yeah, that sounds good. He doesn’t live far from here.”
Lawrence nods. He drives us there without complaining, and even though I’m sweating by the time we arrive, I ask Lawrence to wait and practically run toward Cyrus’ door.
I knock on it, hard, loud. I need him to come to the door as soon as possible. He does, eventually, though it seems to take forever. He looks like shit. He has lost weight, so he’s all cheekbones and teeth, and there are dark circles around his eyes. “Alex,” he says when he sees me.
The moment I see his face, everything clicks into place. I don’t want to go before I talk to him. I don't want to go at all, and that's probably the reason I was so scared. I always knew, I was just too afraid to do anything about it.
“You were right,” I say. “You were right about everything and I’m sorry.”
“Alex…”
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and sliding down my cheeks, hot and humiliating. “I shouldn’t have taken you for granted,” I say. “I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. I’m sorry. You deserve better. And I get it, I get it if you never want to see me again, but I want to stay. If it’s for you, I want to stay.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes closed. “I’m going to LA,” he says.
“Then I’ll go with you,” I say. “If you want me to. Fuck seminary. I want to stay with you, Cyrus.”
He looks me up and down, a smile on his face. “What about God?”
“God is still going to be there,” I say. “Even if I’m not a priest.”
“Alex, I don’t know—”
I stop him from talking by wrapping my arms around him and kissing him, pressing my lips against him. He kisses me back until we’re both breathless. I let him go and look into his eyes. “Cyrus,” I say. “Seminary is not my destiny. You’re my destiny. I was just too afraid of losing you to see it. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every day, if I have to.”
He stares at me, then slowly, very slowly, he smiles. “You’ll have to,” he says. “And we’re leaving in two days.”
I nod. “Of course,” I say. “Let me just tell L
awrence I need to get my shit out of his car.”
He grabs my hand as I start to walk away, pulling me closer to him. “Wait,” he says.
“What?”
He kisses me on the lips again, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just glad you’re home now.”
“Yeah,” I say as he wipes the tears from my eyes. “I am too.”
THE END
Author’s Note
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