=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= This story is a work of FICTION. While actual people and/or events may inspire some characters and situations, no implications are intended or should be drawn. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental.
THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF CONSENSUAL SEXUAL ACTS BETWEEN TWO ADULT MALES. IT IS INTENDED FOR A MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY! IF YOU FIND THIS TYPE OF MATERIAL OFFENSIVE, IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, OR UNDER THE LEGAL AGE TO VIEW SUCH MATERIAL THEN PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.
Copyright 2007-2008 All original material contained here within is copyrighted by the author, Cameron Maxx, and may not be reproduced in any form without express written consent. The Nifty Archive is granted a non-exclusive, worldwide, royalty-free, perpetual, and non-cancelable license to display this work.
PLEASE NOTE: Feedback, both positive and negative, is welcomed and greatly appreciated. Abusive correspondence or flames of any kind will, of course, be strictly ignored - cameron.maxx@gmail.com =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
INTRODUCTION
First, thanks to you all, my dear readers, for your response to the last chapter. It meant a lot that you all enjoyed it and that you were so understanding of the far-too-long delay.
Next, here's the new chapter ... and while it did take a few weeks longer to finish than I'd hoped, the time could still be measured in weeks and not months. Truthfully, I've been working on this chapter since the day the last one was posted and it just kept getting longer and longer. It would seem that everything about this part of Josh and Alex's story wanted to be epic; memories and fears have a way of being epic though, don't they? But, I think so much of who these characters are and where their relationship will go is rooted in these events that it was more important to get it right versus rushing it.
Finally, you'll be happy to know that your wait for the next chapter will be minimal. This chapter, as long as it is, is not the original version in its entirety. As it kept going and going, I finally decided to choose a suitable place to leave Josh and Alex and peeled off the rest to use as the next chapter. I am already working on finishing that up and should have it posted within the week.
Thanks again for the support and kind words. I hope you continue to enjoy the story and will still be here with me when we reach the final words.
-Cameron
CHAPTER 6
Sitting on my bed in the dim, California morning light, Josh stared at me with a vacant look. He blinked.
"What?"
"My dad. He died last night."
"Oh, Alex ..." his words were like an exhaling of breath and then he moved, scooting across the bed to wrap his arms around me. He turned his head and laid his cheek on my chest. He held me in his arms, but I didn't return the hug. I still felt numb; my arms hung loosely at my side, resting partially on the bed. I took a deep breath, still staring blankly at the wall, before finally lowering my head to rest my chin on the top of his head.
I finally moved my arms around him and absently ran my hands up and down his back, feeling him breath in and out as I did. He finally sat up slightly and looked me in the eye. He reached his right hand out, pressing his palm over my heart. His fingers moved slightly, playing with the hair on my chest. My mind started to work again, to become aware of the here and now, and I was overwhelmingly gracious that he was with me. I met his eyes with my own and smiled just a little.
"I'm glad you're here."
He smiled back and said, "Me, too."
I reached my left hand up towards my chest and placed it over his right, holding it and squeezing his fingers slightly. He was mature enough, patient enough, to be aware of the fact that I needed to be ready to talk before I did so. He asked no questions.
"My mom said he was feeling bad last night, coughing a lot. Finally, around 9:00 or so, they decided to take him to the hospital. She didn't call because she didn't want to worry me. She thought it was just another bad spell but by the time he was admitted and in his room, his breathing was very shallow and they were in the process of hooking him up to the machines when he died."
I took a deep breath and then continued, "He was old, you know. He turned 82 earlier this year and he'd been having a lot of lung problems. It was hard for him to get enough oxygen. He got winded easily. They think he had a mild heart attack last night and it was just too much. His heart and lungs couldn't keep up. It was just too much."
I stopped and Josh laced his fingers through mine, holding my hand. "Alex?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you want me to give you a moment? I could make breakfast or just go to my room."
"No. No, you're okay ... I'm okay, too. I just feel tired, you know? Like this is not happening to me, like someone else is telling me about what happened to them. Does that make any sense?"
"It does."
"I should be sad or upset or something. But, I'm not. I'm just numb. I mean, shouldn't I feel more than this?"
"I don't know. I don't think there's a right or wrong way to feel right now. It just is what it is."
"You don't think I'm a bad person do you? Or cold?"
"Alex, you're one of the best people I've ever known. You've shown my mom and my sister, and me ... so much ... you've always been so good to us. You've always been there for us. I don't know why you are or aren't feeling whatever, but I know you're a good person."
I smiled again and squeezed his hand tightly.
"We were never close," I said. "You know that. It just was what it was. Some kids have a dad, some don't. Some parents get divorced, others don't. Some kids go to bed every night hungry. We all have our own tragedies, our own crosses to bear. My dad was selfish, petty, and sometimes viciously unkind. But, he never hit me or my mom." I looked down at my lap and snorted a short, bitter chuckle. "He just made us feel stupid and worthless."
"Alex." I looked back up and met his gaze. "You don't need to do this right now, unless you want to, okay? I know who your dad was, what type of father he was. You don't have to justify anything to me. You don't need to defend your feelings."
"I know. I just wish ..." I paused, searching for the words. "I guess, I just wish I did feel more." I stopped again before saying, "He wasn't a bad person. He ... he just didn't know how to be a father or husband. It was beyond him."
Josh was still holding my hand when he finally asked, "Have any arrangements been made?"
"Some basics. The funeral will be on Friday, so I'm going to have my assistants handle my classes today and tomorrow, then I'll just cancel them on Thursday and Friday. I need to call Tom and let him know, too."
"Who's Tom?"
"The head of our department. I thought you'd met him when you came to my office a couple of weeks ago. Older guy, smokes a pipe?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Yeah, I remember him. He's like your boss, right?"
"Kind of. He's who I report to for stuff like this and he also gets to contribute to my annual review. So, for lack of a better word, he's my boss, I guess."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No, that's okay. You need to hit the shower and head to class pretty soon, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess. But I can call your secretary or something if you need me to."
"No, that's okay. Since I'm not going in today, I'll take care of all that in a little bit."
"What about a flight and rental car? I could book those for you between classes."
"Yeah, actually that would be great. I'd appreciate it if you'd handle the travel details. I guess I'll fly out tomorrow morning, preferably late morning. If you can find a flight around 11:00 or so that would be ideal."
"Sure. No problem. You want me to take your credit card?"
"That's fine. Just grab my American Express. It's on my desk in the study. And, treat yourself to lunch if you want," I said with a sarcastic grin.
Josh laughed a little. "Wow! Lunch? Are you sure?"
I reached over and tousled his shaggy hair. "Yeah, you're a good kid; you're worth it. Lunch is on me!"
He rolled his eyes and knocked my hand away. "Kid? That's just insulting."
I leaned over and kissed him, full on the lips. When our mouths parted he looked surprised and a little dazed. It was a good kiss. "Yeah, a kid with stinky morning breath," I said.
He laughed. "Well then, don't kiss me before I brush my teeth or you'll get stinky morning breath every time!"
I smiled. "Go shower," I told him.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm okay."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
Then it was his turn to surprise me as he darted forward, planting another quick kiss on my mouth before hopping across the bed to the other side, standing up, and walking across the floor and out the door. I listened to his bare feet padding down the hall towards his bathroom.
I went about my day still feeling disconnected from the whole thing. My father and I'd never been close; in many ways it was like I'd never had a father. So, what was it that I was feeling now? There was no real sense of loss or sadness. And yet there was a brooding, melancholy emotion that I couldn't quite explain that floated just below the surface. I worried about my mom but knew she was fine, too. In many ways, my dad's passing was a blessing for her. But still I had glimpsed some quick, fading view of emotional distress stalking my psyche and decided that it would be wise to approach with caution all the same.
I'd done all I needed with my classes and was sitting on my bed folding clothes and beginning to pack a suitcase when Josh got home. I heard him walk up the stairs from the living area and into the hall. I looked up as he appeared in the doorway.
"Hey," I said.
"Hi. How's it going?" he asked as he dropped his book bag on the floor and walked across the room and sat down on the other side of my suitcase.
"I'm still okay. Today has been weird. I don't know how to explain it exactly. I feel a little dazed, I guess."
"Well, I think that's perfectly justified."
"Yeah, you're probably right. I just wish I could explain or categorize what I'm feeling a little more."
"That's one of your problems. You always feel the need to self-analyze, to think things over and come up with an answer ... a reason. There's not always a reason."
I gave him a distasteful look. "Well, aren't you the wise one?"
He smiled. "I am pretty smart, thanks."
"Yeah, yeah," I said and rolled my eyes.
"Plus," he added, "I've known you for half my life so I think I'm pretty qualified when it comes to subjects relating to Alex."
I considered what he said; half his life. He was right and he probably did know me better than most anyone else. He'd had plenty time to observe and take notes. He was always observing, always filing notes away in some private filing cabinet he kept tucked away in the back corner of his brain. I finally nodded my agreement then asked, "did you treat yourself to lunch?"
"No," he answered. Then, "but I did get something else for me."
I stopped rolling the shirt in my hands and looked at him, waiting for him to finish. After a moment he was still quiet so I prompted him. "Well?"
"I got a plane ticket for me, too."
"You did what?"
"I bought two plane tickets. I'm going to go with you."
I considered what he said and realized he'd spoken with great certainty. His mind was clearly made up and trying to talk him out of it would serve no purpose. And yet, I found myself saying, "Josh, I really am okay. You should stay here. You don't need to miss any classes because of this."
"I've already taken care of that. I spoke to all my professors and explained the situation. I got their lecture notes and won't miss anything too much."
"I just don't think ..."
"Alex, I'm going with you," he cut me off. "You may not think you need anyone and maybe you don't. Maybe I'm wrong. But, I'd rather be wrong there with you than be right and be here. If you want me to pay you back for the ticket I will, but you're not getting on that plane alone."
My mouth opened to say something, then closed again. I really had nothing left to say and also knew that I had no desire to fight him on this. "Okay," I said. "And you're not going to pay me back for the ticket. It's fine."
He nodded. "Good. I thought that might be harder than it was."
"What's that mean?"
"It means I know how stubborn you can be and I was hoping I wasn't going to have to sneak on the plane without you and stay in the bathroom until we landed."
I laughed. "Listen, Joshua. You may know me pretty well but don't forget I've spent ten years with you, too. And, I know when you're determined, that determination is a towering beast. So, if you're set on going with me I know that one way or the other you're going to go. Why argue about it?"
He processed my words for a minute then said, "Okay. It's settled. Good."
We looked at each other a moment then I started rolling the shirt again. "And what, exactly, are we going to tell people you are? Who are you in my life?"
He blinked and I knew instantly that he hadn't even considered that question or its implications. I knew I'd thrown him for a loop and unreasonably felt a sense of victory. How petty of me, I thought.
Finally he said, "I don't know. Who cares? Tell them I'm your friend, or little brother, or roommate, or boyfriend. It's up to you. I'm fine with whatever you choose."
Now it was my turn to be caught off guard. He'd managed to spike one back at me and throw me for a loop in turn. Boyfriend? What was he suggesting. All the complex feelings and uncertainty I'd felt before our kiss last night came flooding back. This person, who I'd known for a decade and cared for more than I dared to articulate, who was he to me? What were we? Was there even a we?
He stood up, interrupting my thoughts. "Our flight leaves at 11:10 in the morning, so we need to leave here about 9:00, okay?"
I nodded.
"I'm going to go pack," he said. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night," I managed.
"Night," he turned and headed out of my bedroom.
I watched him go, a million jumbled thoughts in my mind and the still half-rolled shirt forgotten in my hands.
We had been in the air about two hours and Josh was sound asleep. In fact, he'd been asleep damn near since the moment the wheels had left the ground. Having never flown with him before, I was rather amazed at how quickly he had fallen asleep. I for one, was far from sleep. I rarely slept on flights unless a prescription was involved. I'm not a nervous flier, but an uncomfortable flier. As I stood around 6'4" most airline seats were just not made for someone of my size. Plus, I'd failed to tell him to use my points to upgrade us to business class, so I now found myself stuck in coach. I shifted uncomfortable as the hard, metal armrests pressed against my ribs and my knees pushed against the stiff, plastic back of the seat in front of me.
I was in the window seat and Josh was in the middle seat to my left. His head was resting on my shoulders and his lips were parted slightly as he breathed in and out. After staring out the window for some time, thinking a little about my father but mostly about nothing at all, I'd turned my head to watch him as he slept. Despite my resistance to his going with me, I was glad he was here. In fact, I was almost overwhelmed with gratitude. Watching him I thought about everything that had happened between us since he'd moved in with me. I considered all the possible outcomes and found everyone to be just as exciting as it was terrifying. I was a bit in awe of this amazing boy who now slept comfortably with his head on my shoulder. He was a beautiful creature, both confounding and exhilarating.
I was still watching him when he took a deep, stuttered breath and opened his eyes. His eyes met mine and he smiled a sleepy, contented smile.
"Hey, buddy." I said softly.
"Hey."
He reached his hand over and sat it on top of mine. Wrapping his fingers in mind and squeezed gently, he asked, "how's everything,?"
"It's okay. I'm just thinking about stuff and watching you sleep."
"Why are you watching me sleep?"
"I don't know. Because I can't sleep."
"Whatever. You're a weirdo, you know that."
"Yeah, I know."
He smiled again before laying his head back on my shoulder and was asleep again within minutes. His hand was still in mine and I was fine with that. We held hands, his twitching gently from time to time in response to some unknown dream, until the plane began to descend into Houston and our seats had to be returned to their full, upright positions.
From Houston, I drove the rental car south on Highway 59 towards Villette and Rockport. It was about an hour drive, maybe a little more depending on traffic and where I set the cruise control.
As we were leaving the suburbs of Houston and the urban sprawl was beginning to lighten, Josh said, "tell me more about Villette."
"Haven't I told you enough before? I hate it. I hated growing up there and I haven't been back in years and that's fine with me."
"I know all of that. That's not what I'm talking about. I mean, just tell me about the town in general, like the facts."
I thought for a second, trying to separate my dislikes from the facts. I began, "well when I left there were about 70,000 people. Now, there's about 100,000 or so if you include the areas just outside the city limits. It's about half way between Houston and Corpus Christi, about an hour and half from them both. And it's about, let's see ... probably about 30 miles off the coast. It's mostly an industrial town, chemicals and stuff. Dow, Union Carbide, and DuPont all have plants along the coast there. So, a lot of people live in Villette and drive to the plants."
"Now see, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Josh asked with more than a hint of self satisfaction in his voice.
"Fuck off. You haven't seen it yet. It's an ugly, graceless little town where everybody thinks they know you and can therefore judge you. They'll smile to your face but watch your back when you're walking away. The town's got a mean streak."
"It can't be that bad if so many people choose to live there and raise their kids there," he reasoned.
"Yeah, people who vote Republican, and drive big, gas-guzzling trucks, and kill animals and call it a sport. Those same people who'd just as soon punch us in the face than see us holding hands on a three hour flight."
"Alex, they can't all be like that. Times do change, you know."
I tried to consider what he said, I really did try. But I was unconvinced. I was the one who'd grown up in Villette, not him. I knew what it was really like. We drove in silence for awhile.
"And what about Rockport?"
"Rockport is not so bad. It's a smaller town right on the coast, about 30 minutes from Villette. My parents bought a house there when they retired. There aren't many places along the Texas coast that you'd mistake for the South Pacific or even Southern California for that matter. The beaches tend to be ugly. The sand is kind of gray and rough. Plus, the Gulf of Mexico doesn't offer sparkling, blue waters by any stretch of the imagination, that's for sure. But, all in all, Rockport isn't bad."
Josh looked at me and smiled. Then he started to laugh.
"What," I demanded somewhat defensively.
He just laughed harder.
"Seriously. What the fuck is so funny?"
"Nothing. It's just you're so, I don't know ... negative. I mean, I just realized you were actually trying to make Rockport sound like a nice place, but you just couldn't quite do it."
"Yeah, well ..." I smiled despite myself.
"Come on, it couldn't be all bad. You've told me yourself you had fun in high school."
"It's not all bad, no. But very few things in life are all bad. I mean Hitler did build the autobahn, but that doesn't make him a good guy." Josh started laughing again. I shot him the finger which only made him laugh harder.
"On the plane you drooled on my shoulder all the way over here."
He stopped laughing but still had a wiseass sparkle in his eyes. "Nice, real nice. That's a very mature comeback."
"Well, you did."
As we entered the outskirts of Villette in the mid-afternoon sunlight, I had an odd feeling of displacement. There was this sense of things once familiar now alien. It had been nearly a decade since my last visit and while I recognized certain streets and buildings, I would have been hard pressed to find my way anywhere I hadn't been before. It was still an ugly town with a lack of urban planning and too many ungainly signs and electrical wires lining the streets. But it was also undeniably bigger; it seemed to hustle and bustle more. There was a good deal of traffic even at this hour and where the major state highways intersected there were actual overpasses. That was new. There had been no overpasses in town during my time.
We passed Villette High School from which I'd graduated. It had been a huge, sprawling campus then and it still was. A few new buildings had been added here and there but it was much the same as I remembered. In the distance, on the other side of the large and very full parking lot, the football stadium rose from the flat ground it's stands topped with six light poles that reached for the sky. Even now it was still impressive. At capacity it would hold 24,000 people and most Friday nights in the fall found it full.
I pointed out my window and nodded. "That's my high school, Josh."
He turned and looked. The looming stadium caught his attention. "Oh, my God. It's huge." There was distinct awe in his voice.
"I told you," I replied. "My graduating class had over a thousand kids. And, yes. The stadium is giant. But you grew up in Texas; I don't have to tell you how big football is. Come fall, it's like 'Friday Night Lights' around here."
He tore his eyes away from the stadium to look back at me. "Yeah, but I grew up in Austin. I mean, football is big but I don't think I've ever seen a high school stadium that big. I guess you're right. It really is different in the smaller towns."
"Yeah, it is. But it's not all bad," I said surprised to hear the slightest bit of nostalgia in my voice. "Friday night football games can be a lot of fun. I have some very good memories in that place." I paused, thinking. "Of course, I've got some pretty shitty ones, too. But, all things considered, it could have been a lot worse. Growing up the gay liberal kid in small town South Texas comes with its fair share of risks, but all in all I was blessed. I know that."
Josh looked at me, a small, kind smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I doubt it was just being blessed, Alex. You're a smart guy. Plus you're very quick and funny. People tend to like you even when they don't think they will. I've seen you win people over time and again."
I thought about what he said. My first instinct was to argue or try to deny what he'd said. Instead, I decided to just take comfort in his words and said, "thank you."
"You're welcome," he said and took my hand that was laying on the armrest between us in his. I let him lace his fingers through mine. I was becoming more and more secure with his hand in mine. It was comforting and to my surprise felt perfectly natural.
Coming from Houston, we'd entered Villette on the southeast side and had crossed town to the northwest to get to the house where I'd grown up. My mom was going to meet us there. As we left town and headed towards my childhood home, the sense of displacement grew. I kept waiting for the open farmlands I remembered to open up on either side of us but they never did. There were a few spots of undeveloped pasture or trees here and there, but that was about it. For the most part there was one housing subdivision or strip mall after another. Growing up, we'd been in the country, a good 15 minutes from town. But now our house stood surrounded by the 40 acres of land we owned and it was the only open space you could see.
Josh looked, eyes wide, from left to right. "All of this is yours?"
"It's not much. Only about 40 acres."
"Well, it looks like a lot."
I realized that to someone who'd grown up with a single mom on a limited income in a modest suburb, this wide expanse of land must look like a ranch out of some old western movie. As we pulled into the driveway, I saw my mom standing in the front doorway watching us approach. Her old cat, Finnigan, sat at her feet, gently nudging her ankle, no doubt purring and hoping for a little attention. I put my hand on Josh's knee and patted it gently.
"You ready for this, buddy?"
He looked at me and I saw that he was nervous. He'd always been a self-confident, controlled kid from the day I met him but now, faced with meeting my mom, he was unsure of himself. I couldn't help but chuckle.
"You've got nothing to worry about," I assured him. "She's heard me talk about you for years and knows how fond I am of you. So, she's already fond of you, too. Okay?"
He nodded but didn't say anything. I could tell by the look in his eyes he was still not so sure. I smiled and squeezed his leg one more time than put the car in park, killed the motor, and got out. I stretched in the heat of the Texas sun.
"Hey, sweetie," my mom said and smiled. She walked briskly towards me and I met her halfway. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged tightly. I returned the hug, resting my chin on the top of her head. She was only about 5'5" or so.
She let me go and then looked up at me. "It's good to see you."
"You, too." I bent and kissed her on the cheek. She was 73 but still sprightly and very able bodied. Her hair was dyed a deep, auburn brown and, much to her chagrin I was sure, there were just a few grey roots showing. All in all, I thought she looked great. I had been worried that losing her husband of almost 51 years might take a harder toll on her but saw that she was dealing with it quite well. I heard the car door close behind us and turned. Josh was standing next to the passenger side, looking at the two of us, trying to project an air of calm and comfort. I admired his effort.
"Mom, this is ..." I began.
"Joshua," she interrupted. "Of course he is."
She walked quickly towards him and I fought the urge to laugh; I saw momentary panic in his eyes as he debated between fleeing or holding his ground. If he had decided to flee, his decision came to late as my mom covered the last few feet to where he stood and wrapped him in a hug every bit as fierce as the one she'd just given me. He stood unmoving for a moment before reacting by wrapping his own arms around her. I could see his body starting to relax already as her easy nature drained the stiffness from him. It was in that moment I remembered just why I loved my mom so much.
I was distracted by something brushing against my lower leg. I looked down and saw the cat rubbing between my ankles. I smiled and bent to pick her up. Being a bit of an old biddy, she griped and fussed as I flipped her upside down, holding her like a baby and rubbed her stomach and chin. Despite her fussing, I could hear and feel her purring loudly.
"Finnigan, girl," I said. "How are you doing, you old kitty cat?"
"She was doing just fine until you turned her upside down," my mom answered. She was still standing next to Josh, one arm around his waist. "You know, she's not a kitten anymore so you really shouldn't just throw her around like that."
"She's fine," I said. "She's purring so hard she's about to rattle herself right out of my arms."
I bent and put the cat down on the ground. She walked off slowly towards the rental car, no doubt to sniff around the unknown object before curling up and sleeping in the shade underneath. I straightened and looked at my mom and Josh. He looked much more at ease now and I was glad to see that.
"So, what's for lunch?" I asked my mom.
She threw her arms up in mock desperation and turned to Josh. "See how he is? Some things never change! Even the grieving widow is not exempted from cooking him a meal."
Josh laughed. "Yeah, he loves his food."
"Is that a fat joke?" I asked, feigning indignity.
"No, I just know your favorite time is meal time."
"Ah!" my mom said. "So, you do know my son, then. Okay, okay. Let's get inside out of this heat and eat shall we?"
"Sounds good to me!" I said.
She led the way in, sliding the glass door open. I stepped aside and motioned for Josh to go in behind her. Without thinking, I rested my hand on the small of his back as he passed through the doorway and then I followed, closing the door behind us.
After lunch, the rest of the day passed quickly. There were still phone calls to be made and other arrangements that needed finalizing. My mom rode back into town with us and the first stop was the funeral home. The public viewing would be held tomorrow and continue through Friday morning until the ceremony began at 12:00 noon. While there, I was offered the chance to look at my father's body and quickly chose not to for reasons I didn't understand and decided not to consider.
By 6:00 in the evening most of the business was taken care of and the sun had begun to set in the west, casting the South Texas sky in a brilliant red orange color. We decided to leave Villette and head to Rockport for dinner and my parents beach house. Arriving in the smaller town about a half hour later, my mom guided me through the streets and intersections, leading us towards the house. The town was much as I remembered it. It was a small, almost quaint gathering of houses and a few stores all pushed up right onto the beach. The last rays of the setting sun spread out over sparkling mile after mile of the gulf, casting the greenish waters golden.
"I like it," Josh said from the backseat breaking the comfortable silence of the last few miles.
"I do too," my mom agreed. "It's good place to fall asleep at night. With our windows open, you can hear the water cresting on the beach. I know it can't compare to the blue waters and bright sands you've got there in California, but I like it."
"It's nice, mom."
"Okay, turn left at this next little street and then about a block or two towards the beach. Ours is the last house on the right."
After waiting for a passing car, I turned our car left into the narrow, two way street that was lined with small beach houses and cottages and drove slowly towards the dead end that was clearly visible ahead. Beyond the end of the street there was an slight embankment several yards wide covered with grass and other growth, then the rocky shore started with the beach and gulf extending out from there as far as the eye could see.
I pulled to the curb and parked in front of the last house on the right. Only a few car lengths ahead the road ended and the coastline began. My parents house was a little larger than the rest on the street and the only two story dwelling in sight. But, it still felt rather small and properly weathered so didn't seem out of place amongst its neighbors. Having only seen it in pictures, I was a little surprised to immediately feel a fondness for the house; it felt more like home than the house I'd been raised in ever had.
Josh and I got our suitcases from the trunk while my mom went ahead to unlock and open the door for us. Walking up the pebbled path through the tiny front yard, you first entered a long and narrow screened-in porch. It stretched the entire width of the house, but could not have been more than about six feet in depth or so. The porch was floored in the same loose pebbles as the path leading up from the curb. On the right side of the door were two wicker rocking chairs with a small, round table between them; to the left was a hammock.
"C'mon in," I heard my mom call from within, past the porch.
She'd left the interior front door open for us and I let Josh walk ahead of me so I could close the door behind us. I blinked my eyes, adjusting to the dimmer lighting inside. I surveyed what lay before me and realized my initial thought in the car was right. All in all it was a small house, probably no more than 1,200 square feet or so at the most. To our right was a modest kitchen and dining nook that was occupied by a round, cafe-style table with three matching chairs. On the left was the cozy living room and directly ahead and I saw the stairs. Just past the stairs I saw a doorway on the left that I knew must be the master bedroom. There was also, against all odds, a tiny half bath squeezed in under the stairs.
"Well, welcome to my little beach house," my mom said. She was standing near the stairs looking back at us. "What do you think?"
"I think it's great," I answered unabashedly. My mom smiled.
Josh laughed. "Wow!" he said, turning to look at me. "That's the most positive thing I've heard out of you since we landed in Texas."
My mom laughed, too and agreed, "You know if it's in Texas and Alex likes it, then it must be pretty special."
I rolled my eyes at them both. "Okay, that's enough. Mom, where can we put the suitcases down? They're getting heavy."
She pointed up the stairs. "The guest bedroom is up there and there's a full bath, too. The room isn't huge, but there's a nice, big closet so there should be enough space for you two to share. And, you have direct access to the balcony up there, too."
The balcony must have been the large, open air patio I'd seen from the street. It sat above the screened-in entry porch, but the wall for the bedroom was set much further back than the downstairs exterior wall. So, the patio up there was obviously bigger than its lower cousin. I'd guess it was at least twice as wide from what I'd seen walking up to the house.
"The bed up there is only a queen," my mom continued. "So, Josh if you want to sleep down here on the sofa, that'll be fine, too. I know my son can take up quite a bit of space, especially if he still rolls around when he's asleep like he used to."
"Oh, I'll be fine," Josh said openly and in a jovial fashion. He started past my mom and then up the stairs. "Besides, I've figured out that when he rolls over on top of me, I can just shove him off and he never even wakes up."
This unexpected admission caught me off guard and maybe my mom as well. She shot me a look and I quickly looked away, then down at my feet. Before she could say anything or before I could either, I started up the stairs behind Josh. I wasn't sure, but I'm pretty sure my cheeks were red and it wasn't from the effort of lugging the heavy case up the stairs.
Just as I reached the top, my mom called up, "Well, when you boys are through, c'mon back down and we'll go get some dinner."
"Okay," I answered before quickly rounding the corner of the landing and moving into the bedroom. "Shit," I muttered.
Thursday began early. My mom woke us up a little after 7:00 that morning. She came around the corner from the stairs and stood just inside the bedroom knocking a few times on the wall before saying my name. I heard the knocking but only fully awoke when she said my name. Josh was lying curled against me, his chest pressed to my lower torso and my chin resting on the top of his head. I turned my head towards my mom and blinked a couple of times.
"Good morning," she said.
"Hey," I answered groggily.
"You guys want to get up and grab some breakfast? We should probably be getting to the funeral home by 11:00 or so."
"Sure. Okay. Just give us a few minutes. I'll get him up after I take a shower."
"Okay, I'll see you downstairs in a bit," she said before turning and heading back out. I listened to her steps going down the stairs and wondered what had gone through her mind seeing Josh and I sleeping together the way we were. I decided there wasn't much I could do about it either way. So, I gently pulled away from him, being careful to let his head down gently on the pillow. He pulled his hands up towards his chest as if to replace me and mumbled something incoherent but didn't stir again.
I padded across the thin carpet heading for the guest bath. It was small but still comfortable. There was no tub, only a walk-in shower with a clear, glass enclosure. I pulled the bathroom door closed behind me before stripping off my boxers and splashing some cold water on my face. I washed the sleep from eyes and then reached into the shower, turning on the hot water and waiting for it to warm up before stepping in.
When I finished, feeling clean and much more awake, I wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door, walking back out into the bedroom. Josh was awake and sitting up in bed. He grinned a sleepy smile at me and I couldn't help but smile back. Sitting there with his still puffy eyes and rumpled hair, I thought he was just about the cutest thing I'd ever seen. I walked across the room and sat on the bed next to him. Without hesitating, I leaned towards him, putting one hand behind his head to pull him closer to me and kissed him long and deep. When he felt my tongue pressing at his lips, he opened his mouth and accepted it fully. My other hand rubbed little circles over his flat stomach before moving up his chest where I tweaked and pinched at one nipple. I felt him moan into my mouth as his nipple hardened between my fingertips. I finally pulled myself away from his lips but kept my hand on him, cupping the left side of his chest. His eyes were still closed and when he opened them to look at me, he looked surprised and a little intoxicated. I smiled knowing that I'd sent a tingle through him.
"What was that for?" he asked, sounding a little shocked and breathless.
"Just because."
"Just because?"
"Yeah, just because I wanted to. And, because you're here with me. Thank you, Joshua." I paused, making sure his eyes were still focused on mine. "Thank you for being here with me."
He smiled, putting one hand on my left cheek and then kissing my right. "You're welcome. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
I nodded then said, "you need to go take a shower before my mom comes back up here with something more demanding than an offer for breakfast. She's already dressed and ready to go."
"Okay, I'll hurry," he said before throwing off the covers and hopping out of bed. I watched that beautiful ass of his, framed in the Calvin Klein briefs he wore, walking away from me. I felt my own dick start to react but willed myself to get that under control. Now was not the time.
After breakfast I drove us back into Villette. We arrived at the viewing and were greeted by the owner and his assistant. The first guests arrived about a half hour later. I was standing near the front of the room, peering down at my father's waxy face in the coffin, his eyes closed. I know he was supposed to look peaceful, but I couldn't help but feel the whole thing was creepy. Josh stayed near me, just behind and off to my left with one hand resting on my back, as I stared at the face and closed eyes. Again, it wasn't a sense of loss or sadness that I felt, but a sense of disappointment. There could have been, should have been, so much more between us. I deserved that and, at some point in the past, surely he had, too. But now, there was just us and more silence. So much silence unspooling endlessly out to some time out of mind.
"And all that could have been ..." I mouthed, almost inaudibly, under my breath. Josh rubbed a small circle on my back with his hand.
I heard the sound of voices in the back and turned, looking past him, to see two older ladies had entered the room and were now conversing in hushed tones with my mother. I did not recognize them but smiled briefly when one of them caught my eye and nodded. My mom was now leading them down the aisle towards us. 'Here we go,' I thought.
They were introduced as friends from my parent's church. Their names seemed vaguely familiar but I couldn't be sure. I made small talk, before Josh intervened, introducing himself as my friend. He subtly but effectively maneuvered them away from me, understanding intuitively that I was in no mood to carry on idle conversation.
And that was the way it went for most of the day. I sat on a pew in the front row and stared at the side of the dark wood coffin while Josh politely swept one person after another away from me. He was at his most polite and charming; a charismatic and attractive young man filled with quick wit and graceful conversations. He kept every one of them, old and young, men and women alike, smiling and feeling comfortably attended to. I noticed he was also attentive to my mom, staying near her and keeping a protective eye on her. I've no doubt that most everyone who came and went that day had more than a few kind words to say about my "delightful friend."
Meanwhile, I sat thinking and staring, processing a corrosive mixture of anger, disappointment, and some other more elusive emotion that remained unnamed.
We returned to Rockport that evening and ate a quiet dinner before heading back to the beach house. My mom and Josh chatted over their meals but I was still mostly sullen and withdrawn. By the time we got back to the house, I felt exhausted. I was physically tired, as though I'd just run a marathon. I excused myself, saying I was going to shower and then turn in for the night.
"Okay, I'll be up a little later," Josh said. "If your mom is up for it, I think I'd like to stay up a bit longer."
"Absolutely," my mom agreed and smiled at him. "It's not often I have a young man requesting the pleasure of my company."
I nodded and said good night, kissing her on the cheek and resting my hand on his shoulder for a moment before heading upstairs. After a quick, hot shower I got into bed. My mind was elsewhere and without thinking, I dropped my towel on the floor beside the bed and crawled, naked, under the covers. Almost immediately upon my head hitting the pillow and I fell into a restless sleep in which I struggled with one haunted dream after another.
At some point later in the night, I was stirred only half awake when Joshua pulled back the covers to snuggle in next to me. I felt my chest hair brush along his back as he slid against me and then pulled my arm over on top of him, pressing my hand against his smooth skin and holding it over his heart. Next he pressed his hips back and my dick fell between his cheeks, settling into the crevice of his ass. A distant realization that he too was nude dawned on me, but in my groggy and only partially wakeful state I thought little of it. I pushed into him, driving my dick further into his soft, warm crack. He squeezed my hand with his and pushed it tighter against his chest.
I didn't think about what it meant; I didn't worry about the consequences. Instead, my overtaxed brain simply accepted the feeling that I was safe. He felt like my own, personal harbor. I fell asleep with my nose resting in his sweet hair and dreamed no more.
When I awoke, morning sun was streaming into the bedroom through the windows that looked out onto the rooftop balcony and I was alone in the bed. I stretched and heard the sound of voices drifting up the stairwell. I caught the distinct smell of bacon and warm maple syrup and smiled. Getting out of bed, I pulled on some loose fitting cargo shorts and a tee shirt before heading downstairs.
As I came off the stairs and rounded the corner I saw my mom and Josh laughing and talking like old friends as the cooked breakfast together in the small kitchen. My mom stood over the range, attending to the sizzling bacon while he stood over the sink. He was cracking eggs and dumping the yolks into a large mixing bowl. Based on the flour I could see from where I was standing, I knew he was working on the beginnings of pancake batter.
He looked up at me and smiled a big, goofy smile like I was the best thing he'd ever seen. "Hey!" he said.
"Hey, there."
My mom stepped away from the frying bacon long enough to give me a quick hug. "Good morning, sunshine. How are you?"
"I'm okay. Kind of tired, but okay. Yesterday just felt like a really long day to me. I'm sorry if I wasn't, I don't know ... if I wasn't, uhhmmm ... entirely present."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, you've always been moody and difficult, so I'm sure neither of us took it personally."
Josh snorted a laugh and I shot him a look.
"What?" he asked in his most innocent voice. "You can be a bit moody."
My mom smiled and nodded, before patting me on the shoulder. "See. I told you," she said and walked back to tend to the bacon.
"That's just great. You've known each other for two days and you're already ganging up on me."
Josh just rolled his eyes and shook his head before cracking another egg and going back to work. My mother chose to ignore me all together.
"Fine. Whatever," I said before sitting down at the small, round table. I considered offering to help but decided that being waited on sounded like a much better idea.
Breakfast was great. Josh and I gorged ourselves on too many pancakes and at least half a hog worth of bacon. Neither of us drank coffee, so my mom was alone in that but we both chugged down two or three big, cold glasses of orange juice. When I finally could eat no more I pushed my chair back from the table, rubbed my stuffed belly with one hand, and exhaled deeply. On the opposite side of the table, Josh followed my lead but after rubbing his own stomach let out a rather loud burp.
"Gross, dude." I said. "A little tact; we are in front of my mother, you know," I chided.
"Excuse me," he said, looking sheepish and a little embarrassed.
"Don't worry," my mom said and patted him on the knee. "I just consider it a compliment on my cooking."
"Exactly, thank you." He turned and looked smugly at me. "See, your mom understands me."
"Oh, god. Here we go again," I groaned.
Standing up from the table he said, "if you'll excuse me, I'm going to head upstairs to shower and start getting dressed."
"Certainly," answered my mom. "And thanks, again for your help with breakfast."
"It was no problem," he said before giving her one of those beaming, award-winning smiles that lit up his whole face and made my heart skip a beat. Then he bent and kissed her on the cheek. "It was my pleasure."
"Jeez! Get out of here, would you? I don't care how charming and likeable you are - she's my mom. She'll always love me more."
Josh laughed as he walked out of the kitchen, headed for the stairs. "Yeah, but there's no harm in trying, is there?"
I just looked at my mom and shook my head, a bemused grin on my face. She chuckled and sipped her coffee. We sat together in silence; I listened to the surf through the open windows. I heard the water in the shower start and decided it was time to talk to my mom about Josh and just what she thought about the whole thing.
"He's a good kid, isn't he?" I asked.
"Yes, he is. I really, really like him, Alex."
"Me, too," I agreed.
She hesitated, then asked, "so, is he ..."
"I don't know," I answered quickly. Then, after a bit more thought, "I'm not sure."
"Do you two normally share a bed when you're at home?"
"No ... well, sometimes. I mean, he has his own room, of course and most nights, when he's ready to turn in, he goes to him room and I go to mine. Then, at some point during the night, I wake up and he's there with me. He says he sleeps better when he's with me. He said," I paused, debating on whether or not to tell my mom this or not, "he said I smelled like home."
My mom laughed. "You smell like home?"
I was laughing a little, too. "Yeah, that's what he said. I'm not sure what it means, but I guess it's a good thing."
"What exactly does home smell like?"
"Like me, I guess."
"I guess so," she said and smiled again. "He really is almost unbearably likable isn't he?" I chuckled and nodded in agreement. "Did you see the way he worked the room yesterday?" she continued. "He had everyone charmed from the moment they walked in."
"Yes, I did notice that. There's really just something about him that makes it hard to not be drawn to him. And, despite a few exceptions during his teenage years, he's been like that since I met him."
My mom was thoughtful for a moment, then said, "it just radiates from him. When he smiles, it just lights up his whole face ..."
"... like sunshine," I finished for her. "It's like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. Trust me, I know."
"Yes, and I'll tell you something else, too."
"What's that?"
"Whether or not he is or he isn't -- and whatever there is between you two there's no doubt just how deep and fierce his feelings for you are."
Caught off guard, I looked up in shock. "What?"
"You heard me. Gay, straight, or whatever ... that boy lives and breathes for you; he adores you and it's visible every time he looks at you or even when he talks about you. It's so clear on his face; and that sunshine smile of his that you're so fond of? Well, it's never bigger or brighter than when you walk into the room."
Unbelieving, perhaps willfully unaccepting of what she was saying, I shook my head no. "I don't know about that, mom."
"Then you're just not looking, Alex. It's plain as day. I may not be the smartest person, but I know when someone loves my son, that's for sure. A mother knows because a mother needs to know that her child is in good hands."
I smiled, but was still shaking my head no. "And you think I'm in good hands with Josh, I assume?"
"I do."
We sat looking at each other for a moment and I knew that that there was no reason to argue with her. Upstairs, the water stopped and I knew Josh would be getting out of the shower soon. I took that as my chance to get going. "Well, I'm going to take a shower, too. I need to start getting dressed. What time do the services start?"
"One o'clock," she said.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
A quick flurry of emotions ran across her face. She took a deep breath, held it in, then exhaled slowly. "You know how things were. Your father was a difficult man. You deserved a better father." She paused, looking tired. "And, I deserved a better husband, too. But, at the end of the day, I did love him. I know you don't understand that. Hell! I don't even understand it, but I did. We'd been so distant for so long, that I almost feel as though I haven't lost a husband. I spent most nights here in Rockville. Sometimes he'd be here, too but more and more often he wasn't. He preferred being in Villette. Sometimes I think he'd have been perfectly happy with just the three of us, just you, him, and me in that damn house on some deserted island. I really do."
I reached across the table and rested my hand on top of hers. "Mom, it wasn't you or me. I know I've been saying that to you over and over for 15 years now, but it wasn't. At the end of the day, it was him. He chose his life; everyday he could choose to be kind and loving or he could choose to be an asshole. It was his choice and there was nothing we could have done that would have ever been enough. Neither of us were responsible for his happiness."
"I know that, Alex. I do. I guess what I'm really mourning is all the wasted years. I just wish I could go back and do it all over again. Maybe if I'd left him when I knew I should have you'd have had a happier childhood and I wouldn't be constantly wondering what might have been."
"Look, you did the best you could and that's all I could ever expect of you. I love you and pretty much every happy childhood memory I have is because of you. So, please try and let it go. I haven't been angry at you in a long time. I know you're not perfect. No child, no marriage, comes with a how-to manual. You did the best you could."
She smiled a tired smile. "I think your father and I both got a better kid than either of us deserved."
"No, no. Remember - I'm a moody, difficult bitch. You could have done much better, I'm sure." She laughed. "Listen, I think you should look at this as an all access pass to a new life. Mourn now; miss your husband and grieve for the good times, because I'm sure there were some. Do what you need to do, but then move on. You're still relatively young and perfectly healthy. Go to lunch with your girlfriends. Go see any movie you feel like seeing. Travel. Go see Aunt JoAnne in Houston. Come see me in L.A. Hell, meet a lonely old man and shack up with him. Do all those things and more. Just try and be happy, okay?"
"I am, honey. I am. You know I just deal with all these things a little slower than you do. I've never been quite as good at sitting it down and walking away."
"I know, but you can do it. Especially now, there's nothing holding you back." She nodded.
"You should probably head up for that shower now."
"You're right. I should." I stood and walked around the table. I bent over and gave her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you in a bit, okay? I'll send your new, favorite son down in the meantime to keep you company."
She laughed then dismissed me with a waive of her hand.
The services for my father were held at the First Baptist Church of Villette. My parents had attended the church for years. In fact, I'd spent far too many Sundays and Wednesday evenings there myself as a child and then young teenager. Needless to say, I had no desire to ever go back. Shortly after we got there my mom and I, along with the pastor, were stationed near the front door to greet people as they arrived and accept their condolences. I shook hands and feigned interest, pretending to remember people I knew no more than any stranger on the street. It seemed to go on forever and I longed for it to end.
Josh, for his part, stayed near us. He was just a few feet behind where my mom and I stood and I would feel his hand touch my back from time to time. It was those few moments of comfort that made the meet and greet bearable. I hadn't seen what he was wearing to the funeral until he walked down the stairs of the beach house. In fact, I'd never seen the clothes at all and, though I didn't get the chance to ask him, I was pretty sure he'd found the time to go buy them specifically for this occasion. Skinny, black, flat-front slacks with tiny gray pinstripes hung low on his hips. A thin, form fitting white button down shirt was tucked into the pants; he wore a black jacket that managed to look both classic and contemporary at the same time over the shirt. A long, thin, square-cut tie in a dark, salmon color hung from his neck to just above his waist. Its stark contrast to the gray and black was tasteful and visually arresting. My breath had caught in my throat as he'd walked down the stairs. He looked sophisticated and handsome. I was once again caught off guard by how strong of a reaction he could elicit from me.
Just before the services were to begin, we were led down the center aisle to the front row of pews. Caring less and less what people might think about Josh, and now knowing how my mom felt about him, I made sure to wrap my arm around his waist and pull him along with us. I wanted him to know he was part of this, every bit my family. I noticed the pastor drop his eyes to my arm around Josh and a brief, uncomfortable look crossed his face. He looked up I met his eyes directly, daring him to say something. But, he looked away and said nothing.
The casket was sitting at the very front, just below the pulpit. It was closed now and I preferred it that way. My mom sat to my left, closest to the aisle. I was in the middle and Josh was on my right. After we'd taken our seats, just as the pastor started the first prayer, Josh took my hand in his and held it until the last prayer had been said. Only as we stood to leave did he let it go. As soon as he did, I felt lost and longed to feel his touch again.
It was late afternoon by the time we got back to the beach house in Rockport. The sun was dipping down, straining to meet the gulf at the horizon and the water flared a million shades of gold and orange. As I pulled the car to the curb in front of the house, Josh spoke up from the backseat, "I think I want to go to the beach; have a swim."
I looked at his face in the rearview mirror and it was turned towards the water, a wistful look was clearly visible as he stared at the golden waves. I smiled knowing all too well that it was this child-like enthusiasm for life and his sense of wonder that made him so easy to be drawn to. Of course, that was something that he had in common with Ryan, I thought darkly. I tried to push that down and ignore it, but the doubt it caused still circled and hunted. I knew it was there, even if I couldn't see it.
"I think that's a great idea," my mom said. "The water should still be warm enough for another few weeks," she assured us.
"Alex, will you go with me?"
"Buddy, I can't. Remember I'm supposed to meet my friends for an early dinner tonight?"
"Oh! I totally forgot. I'm sorry."
"Don't worry. I was actually going to suggest you stay here and maybe take my mom to dinner while I was out."
"That sounds like a great idea," my mom said, sounding truly happy about her dinner with him. She turned around in the seat, looking back at him. "What do you say, young man? How about a nice dip in the water and then dinner with a charming, old broad?"
Josh and I both laughed. "I don't know about old," he said.
"I don't know about charming," I suggested. My mom pretended to be offended and punched me in the shoulder.
"Okay!" Josh said. "Sounds like a plan. I'm going to go in and change," he finished before opening the back door and hopping out. I killed the ignition and turned to my mom.
"You still okay?"
"Yes, I am. I really am. Dinner with Josh will be good for me."
"I agree. I'm glad you like him. I was worried."
"Why would you have been worried? You've been talking about him for the last decade. I feel like I already know him."
"I know. It's just, you know ... he's so much younger than me and, well ... it's like he's always been my little brother and now he's ... I don't know. He's becoming something more."
"Listen," she began, reaching out to take my hand in hers. "I know I didn't react the way I should have when you told me you were gay. If I could go back and behave differently, I would. But I can't. A lot of time has passed since then. I've come to believe you are exactly who God wanted you to be and the most important thing to me is that you are safe and happy. You've been alone for so long and that has always worried me. I know you're smart, and tough, and don't need to be with anyone. But, I still worry. I just do. And Josh is a wonderful man who clearly cares about you very much so please don't worry. There is no need. I couldn't have chosen a better person to be there with you through all of this than him."
I smiled, getting a little emotional despite my best efforts not to do so. "Okay. Thank you. I really do appreciate it."
"No need for thank you. Why don't you go ahead and walk me in now. We both need to change into something more comfortable, don't you think?"
"Absolutely," I agreed. "I've had enough of this monkey suit," I said tugging at my shirt's collar and tie.
I walked my mom up the path to the front porch and into the house. We parted ways in the living room. She headed to her room to change and I started up the stairs. As I came around the corner onto the landing, Josh was coming out of the bathroom. He was shirtless, wearing only low slung, loose swimming trunks. I stopped in my tracks, taking in that smooth, pretty chest and torso of his.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," I said and pulled my eyes away from him, trying not to stare. "You changed fast."
"Yeah, I don't know why but I just really want to hurry up and get in the water. Come on and change, you can walk down there with us and watch me splash around for awhile before you leave, can't you?"
"Yes, I can."
"Good." He smiled and walked slowly to where I was standing, still on the landing just outside the room. My eyes, ignoring my brain, drifted back down and drank in the view. I watched that tight, V-shaped torso move towards me slowly. His thin, barely-there line of hair moved sexily down his stomach from his belly button before disappearing into that dangerously low waistline. 'Was he doing this to me on purpose?' I wondered in a bit of a haze? He flattened himself against me and wrapped his arms around me, and hugged tightly.
"Long day, huh?" he asked, turning his face into my chest.
"Yes. Yes, it has been," I said and hugged him back, running my hands lazily up and down the bare skin of his back.
"You holding up okay?" he inquired.
"I'm not too bad," I paused. Then, "thanks to you." I kissed the top of his head, then rested my chin there, breathing in the fragrance of his soft, shaggy hair.
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. You've been absolutely amazing through this whole thing, to both me and my mom. So, thank you again for being here." We stood like that for a moment, just holding each other in silence. The only movement was that of my fingertips tracing long, lazy, elongated circles up and down his back. Trailing them softly over his skin, I felt goose bumps break out on his skin.
He lifted his head from my chest and looked up into my face. "You're giving me chills, you know?"
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Good chills or bad chills?"
He rolled his eyes and smiled up at me. "Pretty good, I guess."
"Good," I said and bent down, and kissing him quickly on the cheek. Then, without even thinking, I licked the tip of his nose. Looking surprised, he smiled wider.
"Did you just lick my nose?"
Not really prepared to defend my bold tongue, I confessed, "yes -- yes, I did lick your nose."
Still smiling he asked, "why?"
"I'm not sure. Probably because I happen to think it's just about the cutest nose I've ever seen in my life."
At this, he snorted a short laugh. "My nose? You think my nose is cute?"
"Yes."
"Okay ..."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Were you naked last night when you got into bed?"
He glanced away for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. Then, looking back into my eyes with a sense of dogged determination said, "Yeah, I was. Why?"
"Well, I was pretty out of it, but I just remember the sense of ... feeling your skin against mine, like maybe there was a bit more contact than there is normally."
"There was. When I came up to go to bed, I pulled off everything but my underwear, as usual, but when I pulled back the covers saw you were naked. So, I just made a decision. It seemed only right that you shouldn't be the only one who got to sleep in the nude."
"Okay," I said simply.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," I paused, then continued. "I think I kind of liked it if you really want to know."
"Really?" he beamed.
"Yeah."
"What was your favorite part?"
I thought for a second before answering, "your nose."
"My nose?" he asked indignantly. "You have my whole body to choose from and you go with my nose?"
"Well, there was one other thing I remember liking ..." I trailed off.
"Yes?"
"Let's see here ..." I began, then moved one hand down his back and into the loose fitting swim trunks. I groped one side of his ass, squeezing and kneading it. His eyes closed and his lips parted slightly as he moaned quietly and pushed back against my hand. I moved to the other side letting one finger slide just inside his crack, wiggling it slowly up then down, as I did. He moaned again as I continued to fondle his ass. After making sure I'd felt all of him I wanted, I pulled my hand back up and gently pushed him away, taking a step back as I did so.
He opened his eyes and looked at me. The gaze was a little unfocused and he was breathing heavily. "You are a dirty, dirty old man," he finally said.
"Maybe," I said. "But you are a pretty, young cocktease who likes to take advantage of dirty old men who are sound asleep and minding their own business in bed."
"Oh!" he said and playfully hit me in the chest using the flat palms of both hands. I took a step or two back and laughed. "That's just plain rude. I am not a tease," he insisted.
Before I could answer my mom called up from downstairs. "Are you boys about ready? Let's go."
"Saved by your mama," he teased. "Lucky you, old man!" he said and started past me, headed for the stairs. I grinned with a bit of self satisfaction to see his arousal tenting the front of his trunks. I couldn't resist and slapped him on the ass when he passed. He jumped a little, then looked back over his shoulder and in an intentionally, overwrought sexual tone said, "you just can't get enough of it, can you?" and then stuck his tongue out at me. Before I could respond, he dashed around the corner of the landing and I could hear him bounding down the stairs.
I stood there staring at the empty space where he'd been, my smile slowly fading as I continued to fall more in love with him. Truth be told, I was scared shitless about what that might mean.