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I opened the door to the balcony to check the weather. It was already warm and it was just past eight. I shut the door and changed the shirt I had first chosen for a dark blue tank and put that on along with a pair of blue swim shorts. Definitely not a day to be overdressed.
I tried to ignore the sounds Aaron was making in the bathroom. It wasn’t like he was loud, but apparently the bathroom was anything but soundproof. And I suspected I was meant to hear those sounds.
“I’m going to order room service,” I said through the bathroom door. “What do you want?” I heard him turn off the water and I moved quickly away from the door.
A moment later the bathroom door opened and Aaron emerged with a towel around his waist, rubbing another one over his hair. “I’m not all that hungry. Maybe just some French toast and some bacon and some orange juice.”
My lips twitched. Not all that hungry? “No eggs, home fries or a side of beef to go with that?”
He flicked me with the towel. “No, just coffee, thanks. You said my ass was too big; I’m trying to cut down.”
I laughed. “I never said your ass was too big. Nor too small. Your ass is just fine as it is.” Very fine. Damned fine. I picked up the phone and added an order of French toast for myself and some fresh strawberries and some grapefruit juice. Breakfast wasn’t a meal I usually even bothered to eat—but they say food is often a substitute for sex.
“Um…” Aaron began as soon as I had finished. He was still standing just outside the bathroom wearing just a towel. I ran my eyes slowly over him, but instead of admiring his lean, toned and tanned body, I found myself taking inventory of his bruises: one on the front of his left thigh, one on his left side near his ribs, one on the left side of his jaw, one on his left cheekbone, a black eye, a swollen nose and a cut lip. It was pretty obvious this Mike was right handed. And I could imagine how it had played out, the **** punching Aaron, knocking him down and kicking him. I frowned and I could feel my mouth tightening. He should press charges. A beating like that was more than just a fight—it was an assault.
“Um..” Aaron said again and I noticed he was looking at me and looking a little embarrassed; the parts of his face that weren’t purple were a deep pink. “I don’t have anything to put on. My clothes from last night are a bit…”
They were bloody and dirty. I had left them in the bathroom, but they really needed to be thrown out. I smiled at him. “You can wear something of mine for now, and we’ll go get your things later.”
He gave me a look. “I don’t really need… There’s nothing I can’t replace.”
But I shook my head. “No, we’re getting your things. And if this Mike wants to cause any trouble that I can’t handle, we’ll call the police and press charges against him.”
I might be a thirty-eight year old, nearsighted English teacher with a slight suggestion of love handles (really, they weren’t that obvious unless I was completely naked—or so I hoped), but I was in decent shape and had boxed in college. Ok, that was a few years ago, but it wasn’t something you forgot how to do. And really, there was a very primitive side of me that really hoped this Mike would give me even the slightest reason to hurt him like he had hurt Aaron.
Aaron smiled and his flush deepened a bit. “Thanks, Justin.”
I smiled in return and gave him a pair of my swim shorts. “Better tighten the strings or you’ll be walking out of them,” I said as he pulled them on. He wasn’t that much shorter than I was, but he was smaller around. The t-shirt fit him a little better since his shoulders were broad and more muscled than the rest of him. He probably spent that time at the beach swimming and not lying in the sun.
When he was dressed he walked over to me and brushed his lips against my ear. “My boys are in your shorts where your boys have been. That is so damned hot.” He breathed the word “hot” right in my ear and I groaned and moved away.
“Yeah, I’ll never wash them and I’ll sleep with them under my pillow,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Was I kidding? Maybe not.
* * *
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:05 pm
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wanderingsoul
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After breakfast, we drove over to the apartment Aaron shared with Mike and Tom. The guy who came to the door when I rang the bell was a little smaller than Aaron. Obviously Tom, not Mike. That primitive side of me was disappointed, though I could see relief on Aaron’s face. Just as I could see shock and revulsion on Tom’s face as he looked at Aaron.
“What the ****, man! You get hit by a truck?”
Aaron managed a laugh. “Yeah, a truck named Mike. Look, Tom, I don’t wanna get into it. I just came to get my things.”
Aaron went into his room and Tom followed. I didn’t. Somehow the idea of going into Aaron’s room felt too…intimate. Which really didn’t make sense since we had just slept in the same bed. But that bed was in a hotel room and wasn’t really my personal space. So I waited in the living room. Though when I heard Tom ask again what had happened, I took a step closer to the door and listened for any signs that Aaron needed some help dealing with this Tom. But Aaron’s voice was calm when he spoke again, so I moved away, not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation. But I stood close enough that I could hear the tone of their conversation, if not the words. That primitive part of me was still lying in wait—just in case.
Aaron emerged from his room without incident a few moments later carrying two suitcases. Tom followed with a box. I took one of the suitcases from Aaron and we carried everything out to the car.
“Look, I’m sorry, man,” Tom said as Aaron got into the car, “Wish I’d been home. Mike’s a **** hole at times.”
I thought that was probably the biggest understatement I had ever heard, but he sounded sincere. And it seemed to make Aaron feel a little better because he gave Tom a smile as they said good-bye, and he was still smiling as we pulled away.
“You know what he said to me when we were in my room?” Aaron asked me as we headed back to the hotel.
“No, I wasn’t listening.”
He shook his head, that smile still playing on his lips. “He said he wished he had been home—because he wouldn’t have minded if I’d hit on him.”
I smiled. “I’d be more surprised if a guy did mind if you hit on him.”
“You minded,” he said quietly.
I looked at him and shook my head. “No, I didn’t. You caught me by surprise and there are a whole host of reasons why I didn’t want you to hit on me, but I never minded. Not for one moment.”
As I turned my attention back to the traffic, I noticed a small smile lift the corner of his lips. I smiled, too. Even the smallest of his smiles were contagious.
The day was turning out to be even hotter than it had promised to be. Everywhere I looked I could see people either already on the beach or heading toward the beach. As we carried Aarons things up to my hotel room, I asked him what he felt up to doing.
He sighed a bit. “Nothing? I feel pretty stiff.”
I cast him a quick look and figured he must be hurting to let that one go buy without his customary grin and sparkle. “The pool is heated and there’s a hot tub. Might make you feel a little better.” And there wouldn’t be as many people inside on a day like this. Fewer eyes to stare and question.
He nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Then afterward I want to look at the paper and see if I can find someplace to stay.”
I nodded. The sooner we got on that, the better chance he would have of finding something decent.
He decided to change into his own swim shorts before we went down. He laughed as he wiggled his hips a bit and my shorts fell right off him. “No chance they’d stay up in the pool; and if I’m going to do a strip, I’d much prefer to give you a private show.” The grin was back, as was the sparkle.
The pool area was fairly deserted, as I thought it would be. Not many people preferred an indoor pool to the ocean on a beautiful day. But there were a few people there. I set my towel down on one of the chairs and took off my shirt. Aaron did the same and I heard one of the teenaged girls say something to her friend. The full array of bruises was more than enough to make the girls stare—though Aaron was someone teenaged girls would stare at anyway.
Any concerns I had about Aaron’s feeling self-conscious were dispelled as he walked past the girls and stepped into the pool. “Take a picture, babe, it’ll last longer,” he said with a smirk.
I smiled and followed him into the pool. Aaron was completely at home in the water; that much was obvious. Even hurting he moved through the water with ease. I was a decent swimmer, but Aaron barely seemed to make an effort as he rippled across the pool under the water, swimming like a fish, his arms scarcely moving. I took a lap across the short distance and complimented him on his swimming.
“I’m on--I mean I was on the swim team in school. Could swim before I could walk, or so my mom brags to all her friends. I love the water.”
We were both leaning against the side of the pool, standing pretty close together. A man about my age walked by and looked at Aaron. It was just a look, but it was an unmistakably critical one, and it hit me wrong. What did he think gave him the right to look at Aaron like that? I was about to open my mouth when Aaron looked up at the guy and stepped closer to me and pressed his mouth against my shoulder, rubbing his teeth against my skin.
“He likes it rough. He’s such an animal,” he said to the guy, gesturing toward me with his head.
I felt my **** stir, as much from his words as the feeling of his teasing bite. I stifled a groan and put my hand on his head and pushed him under the water. He was laughing when he came up. “See? Such a brute.”
I laughed too, as much at the look of complete disgust on the guy’s face as at the look of complete wickedness on Aaron’s.
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:06 pm
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wanderingsoul
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The pool was relaxing, though I think it was more Aaron’s company than the water. And by the time we got back to the room we were both feeling lazy and hungry. We ordered a pizza and some wings and I made a run to the convenience store to get some beer while Aaron took a look to see what was on TV.
“Hey, there’s some great movies on tonight!” he exclaimed as I walked into the room. I smiled, wondering what he considered “great” movies.
“What’s on?” I asked, putting all but two of the beers in the fridge. Whatever they were, I’d watch them and at least pretend to like them. And I told myself that was because Aaron was hurting. I handed him a beer and popped mine open.
He grinned up at me from the couch. “The Creature from the Black Lagoon is on in 10 minutes, and after that is The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. I haven’t seen that one in a long time.”
There is a certain feeling you get when something catches you by surprise in a good way. Not in that “Oh, a surprise party for me?” way, but in a “You remembered lilacs were my favorite” way. It was a flutter that started in the pit of my stomach and tickled all the way up until it put what I knew had to be an incredibly stupid smile on my face.
The pizza came just then, which gave me a moment to try to turn down the stupidity level on my smile. Try. I don’t think I succeeded because he looked at me and raised one eyebrow. “What? They’re great movies,” he said with a grin. “There’s blue cheese with the wings, right?” he asked, reaching for the box with the wings. “Oh, good. Celery, too. Can’t really have wings without the blue cheese and celery.”
“Careful of your lip,” I cautioned as he grabbed one of the wings and dipped it in the blue cheese.
He nodded, taking a careful bite. “Um, yeah,” he said, taking a quick drink of beer. He wiped his lip with a napkin. “Hot sauce and cuts don’t mix that well.”
I frowned and got up and got a washcloth with some cold water. I handed it to him. “Here, might help a bit.” I noticed he was still eating the wing. “Since I see you’re going to eat them anyway.”
He smiled and dabbed at his lip with the cloth. “Hey, it’s wings. And it’ll only sting for a little bit.” He patted the cushion next to him. “Come on, the Creature’s going to be on in a minute. You don’t want to miss any of it.”
Yeah, the stupid smile came back. “You know,” I said as I sat next to him. The couch was big enough that I didn’t have to sit that close, but it was easier to reach the blue cheese that way—or so I told myself. “I can’t even count the number of times I’ve seen that movie. It’s one of my favorites. I have all three of them on tape.”
He bounced a little. “Revenge of the Creature and The Creature Walks Among Us? I can’t believe you have all three! God! That is so cool. You NEVER see The Creature Walks Among Us on TV. I’ve only seen that one once.”
“I found it on ebay.” I laughed. “Yeah, I actually went looking for it. How sad is that? But I love the old monster movies. Especially the ones that are so bad—“
“—they’re good,” he finished with a grin. He put his arm around my shoulders and bumped his shoulder against mine. “Now, if you tell me you have Reptillicus, I am going to have to stalk you until you marry me, you do understand that, right?”
I laughed out loud and reached for a slice of pizza. “Just the American version. I haven’t been able to find a copy of the Danish version—though I wouldn’t understand a word of it. But I’ve read that the special effects are different.”
He shook his head and looked at me with a look that seemed half amused and half amazed—which was a bit like I was feeling. “Damn,” was all he said.
We spent the evening pointing out the “good parts” to each other. And we both ended up nearly rolling on the floor when we both, at the same exact moment and in our best “South American” accents blurted out, “Miss Kay, Miss Kay, you’re too far from the boat, Miss Kay!”
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:07 pm
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wanderingsoul
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It was late by the time both movies were over, but neither of us were really that tired. So we sat out on the balcony and watched the ocean in the moonlight.
“Thanks,” Aaron said after a little while of silence.
“For what?”
“For going with me today. And for being there last night.” He smiled. “And for being ready to rise to my defense in the pool.”
I chuckled softly. “You caught that, did you?”
His smile deepened and he nodded. “Yeah. You’re very protective, you know. It’s nice.”
Was I? Maybe I could be.
“And thanks also for…for holding me.”
I looked at him. I had gotten out of bed without waking him. I didn’t know he knew I had been holding him.
He looked out toward the ocean. “I woke up and you were asleep. I looked at you for a while, you know, watched you sleep.” He looked at me quickly, a self-conscious smile on his lips, then looked down at his hands. “Your lips flutter when you breathe. Did you know that?”
I didn’t.
“I wanted to kiss you so badly. But you said you didn’t want me that way,” he continued quietly.
I hadn’t. I had said I was too old for him. I had never said I didn’t want him.
“But I wanted to be close to you even more badly than I wanted to kiss you. So I snuggled against you. As soon as I did you put your arms around me. I looked up, looked at you, thought maybe I had woken you. But you were still asleep.” He looked at me again and smiled a little sadly. “It was nice, being held like that.”
He looked away and sat there in silence for a moment, then he stood up and walked over to the far end of the balcony and looked down the beach.
I knew what he meant. It was nice to be held, to feel someone’s arms around you, to feel safe. I wanted him to feel safe. It was something I wanted very much. I stood up and walked over to stand behind him. I laid my hands on his shoulders, tentatively because I was almost afraid he might pull away. He didn’t, but he froze. I could feel it. It wasn’t a tensing, but a freezing, as if he were holding his breath. I slid my hands down his arms and wrapped my arms around him, gently, not tightly, mindful of his bruises.
I heard him sigh as he seemed to release the breath he had been holding and relaxed against me. I pressed my face against his hair and rubbed my nose against the back of his neck. We stood there, neither of us speaking, for a very long time. Then, as if with common thought, we both turned and walked inside.
“No,” he stopped me as I started to close the balcony door. “Can we leave it open? I love the sound of the ocean at night.”
I smiled and nodded. I loved the sound, too, and the night was comfortable so there was no real need for the ac. He stood next to the bed for a moment, just looking at me, then he took off his clothes and got into bed. I turned out the lights and did the same. He chuckled slightly, and I knew it was because I had turned off the lights before getting undressed. I lay back on the pillows and sighed. It really was stupid to undress in the dark. He had seen me with just my swim shorts and nothing hidden under them was anything I needed to be insecure about. But he was eighteen and I was thirty-eight and…well, there really wasn’t a need for an “and” after that.
He reached over and ran a finger over my lips then put his hand on my stomach. I covered his hand with mine and he moved closer to me, snuggling against me as he had the night before. I put my arm around him and closed my hand around his.
“You’re so protective,” he had said. Maybe I was, at least with him, because the feelings that swept over me as I held him were not sexual. They could be, though. My body would respond to his in an instant. But for the moment, there was nothing sexual in what I was feeling for him.
I brushed my lips against his hair, and I felt him brush his against my chest. I tightened my arms around him and he moved closer against me. “Night, Aaron,” I whispered against his hair.”
“Night, Justin,” he murmured against my chest.
I fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Aaron’s warm breath against my skin.
* * *
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:08 pm
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wanderingsoul
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He was out of bed before I was awake. I’m normally a light sleeper. Jeremy always said a loud thought would wake me up. But as I lay there listening to the sound of Aaron in the shower, I felt like I’d had the best sleep of my life. I hadn’t woken up once, not even partially.
I sat up and was stretching when Aaron came out of the bathroom. “Morning,” he said with a bright smile. “I tried to be as quiet as possible; I didn’t want to wake you. You were so asleep.”
I laughed and ran my hand through my hair. “I haven’t slept like that in as long as I can remember.”
He grinned. “See? I’m good for you.”
Maybe.
He sat down on the bed beside me. I reached out and touched him, brushing my fingers around but not against the bruise on his side. “How do you feel?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, the grin slipping into a softer smile. “If you keep touching me like that, the answer is going to be ‘horny’ again.”
I pulled my hand away and smiled, shaking my head. He laughed and leaned against me a little. “I’m feeling ok. I’m sore but not dying. I’ve hurt worse before.”
I frowned a little, wondering what “before” had involved.
He noticed my frown and rubbed his thumb over it. “Nothing like you are probably thinking,” he answered my unspoken question. “I fell off my horse once. He fell, too, right on top of me. I broke my leg and one of my ribs. It hurt like a *****.”
I smiled. “You have a horse?” I could picture him riding. I glanced at his hands. Long, sensitive fingers. They would be soft on a horse’s mouth.
He sighed. “I used to. My mom got rid of him after that.” He rolled his eyes. “Should have heard her ***** at my dad for buying him in the first place. Thought she was going to get rid of my dad, too.” He shook his head. “I’m going to get another horse someday. You can’t ride without falling sometimes,” he continued with a defiant lift of his chin that made him look much younger than his eighteen years. “My mom doesn’t get that. I swear she thinks I should be wrapped in bubble wrap 24/7.”
I could see her point. But at least his “worse” hadn’t been from any of the scenarios I had immediately envisioned. He had parents who loved him—one enough to buy him a horse and the other enough to get rid of it.
I smiled at him and touched his cheek with one finger. “Mom’s eventually let their sons grow up. Just give her ten or twenty years.”
I was still waiting for my mom to acknowledge that I could actually manage to take care of myself. When she heard Jeremy had left, her first words to me had been, “I’m coming to stay with you.” Which had probably influenced my sudden decision to take a vacation.
Aaron picked up a copy of the local paper while I showered and dressed. Aaron “wasn’t that hungry” again, so we had omelets and toast and some strawberries while he looked through the paper and I looked online for a place for him to stay for the rest of the summer. Part of me wanted to just tell him to forget about looking for something and stay with me for the rest of the summer. It was nearly over, really, which made going through all the trouble of moving into another place seem a bit pointless. Except that the reasons why he shouldn’t stay with me were obvious. At least to me. For one—and it was a big one—I was twice his age. For another, I was… I let myself use the term fond; I was fond of him. And I wasn’t sure it was right for someone who could understand his mom’s desire to wrap him in bubble wrap 24/7 to feel that way.
So I didn’t suggest anything. I just looked through the online ads and found reasons why none of them were right for him. By the time we were done with breakfast, though, Aaron had several ads circled. But it seemed that just about every place he called was already taken. Even the ones with rents that raised my eyebrows were already gone. After all the calls were made, the list had dwindled down to two “roommate wanted” situations.
“Do you want to get involved with sharing an apartment again?” I asked. Living with someone, even for a short while, required a certain amount of trust. After his experience with Mike, I wondered if Aaron would be comfortable with a roommate.
He shrugged. “I don’t really have much choice. I’ll just be a little more careful about who I hit on,” he added with a grin that I noticed did not reach his eyes.
I gave him an encouraging smile. “Well, let’s go have a look then.”
He looked up at me in surprise. “You’re going to come with me?”
“I said I’d help you look. So unless you’d rather I didn’t come with you—“
“No, no,” he interrupted quickly, reaching for my hand. “I want you to.”
I wrapped my fingers around his and squeezed. “Then let’s go see what we can find.”
* * *
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:08 pm
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What we found was that people who were looking for roommates when the summer was better than half over probably would still be looking when next summer came around. The first place we went turned out to be one step from a crack house. Ok, that was my perception, but the guy who answered the door was obviously stoned, as was the half-naked girl who wrapped around his neck and declared, “He’s a cutey, Dave, can he share our room?” And the second place wasn’t much better. The apartment was in a nicer building, but the guy who answered the door had probably not had a shower since the last time he’d been caught in the rain.
Had it been a week ago, I suspected Aaron might have gambled on either one. But experience had maybe given him a better sense of what was safe and what wasn’t. Which was a good thing. He was looking pretty dejected, though, as we headed back.
“Maybe I should just go home,” he said as we rode the elevator up to the room. “I’m going to have to face everyone eventually anyway.”
Face everyone? That sounded like there was a little more to his “vacation” than just wanting a break.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. I sat next to him and took one of his hands in mine. “So should I assume there’s a bit more to why you left home for the summer other than just wanting a break?” I asked gently.
He leaned against me and nodded. “Yeah, I guess I was more running away than anything else.” He laughed bitterly. “Which is just going to make you think of me more like a kid than ever. I’m so all grown up and mature that I ‘run away from home.’ ”
I squeezed his hand. “Sometimes you have to get away from everyone you know, breathe some different air.”
He nodded “Yeah.” He was silent for a few moments then he shook his head and sighed. “You know, I’ve always sort of known I was gay. But I never told anyone. It just didn’t…fit, you know? Not with how things were supposed to be.” He shrugged. “So I did what everyone expected of me. I went out with girls, acted like an ass when I was with a bunch of guys, you know, just normal high school stuff.”
I did know. I nodded.
He shook his head. “No one knew. Not my parents. Not my friends. No one. Then this new guy comes to our school. And I could tell, you know? And he could tell, too. Must be that ‘gaydar’ **** is real.” He flashed me a rueful smile. “Even if it malfunctions sometimes and makes me hit on straight roommates.”
I smiled and he met my eyes for a moment then looked down. “It wasn’t like I thought it would be. I mean, it felt good and all…” I could see his cheeks flush. “But I thought it would be…different. I don’t know why I did, but I did.” He looked up at me and I could see an almost pleading look in his eyes. “I mean, I didn’t think he would be a jerk like…” he laughed a little, “well, like normal guys. I thought because we were both guys, both different, there would be some sort of…feeling. I mean, I wasn’t looking for the love of my life, but I thought it would be more than just sex. Friendship at least.”
He laughed again and looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “But man, was I off on that one. At first I thought he was just trying to protect me…because I wasn’t…out. You know, not let anyone see we were…together…like that. So when he didn’t talk to me at school the next day, I was cool with that. But he kept doing it. He would **** me and the next day it was like I didn’t exist. He would even push me out of the way when he passed me in the hall.”
He sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes. “And when I asked him what his problem was, he would just say there was no problem, he just didn’t want anyone to know he was gay. Which I SO bought into. Until I saw him kiss Jimmy Tallan, right there in front of his locker, right in front of everyone in the hall.”
Aaron laughed and lay back on the bed, letting go of my hand and covered his face with his arms. “God! I was so stupid! I lost it. I acted like a girl, for chrissakes. Outed myself to the entire school in less than a minute. Was wonderful.”
He sighed and then sat up again, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “You wouldn’t think it would matter, not to people I grew up with, to people who had been my friends forever. But it did. Not to all of them, but some of them. My best friend Tony…” he paused and swallowed hard, and I could see the pain on his face. “Tony wouldn’t even talk to me. Guess he wasn’t really a friend, best or otherwise. Some of my other ‘friends’ felt that way, too. Some didn’t care, though.”
He smiled a little. “So it’s not like I lost all my friends in one moment of tragic drama. But it felt like that. And my parents…” he paused for a moment. “…my parents suddenly had a gay son.” He rolled his eyes. “Good news travels fast. I got home and walked into a Greek Tragedy. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they didn’t disown me or anything. And they still love me. But I know I’ve disappointed them. And then I said I wasn’t going right on to college this summer after all.” He laughed shortly. “When I left they were still arguing over whose fault it was that I was ruining my entire life.”
He smiled a crooked smile. “So that’s what I have to go home to, have to face up to. Which I suppose in the grand scheme of things isn’t exactly Hell. But…but I really wish I didn’t have to go home just now. I was hoping I could find something for the rest of the summer… Just put it off for a little while longer.”
I sat there and looked at him for a long moment. I could see resignation in his face. And something else. It might have been wistfulness. But it definitely wasn’t hope. And there was no sparkle in his blue eyes. I wanted to fix that.
I brushed my fingers over the bruise on his cheek and brushed my thumb over his cut lip. “Maybe you could stay with me for the rest of the summer.” The look that came into his eyes warmed me to my very soul. I smiled and laughed a little. “Besides, if you go home looking like that, your mom will wrap you up in so much bubble wrap you’ll look like the Michelin Man.”
Aaron laughed and wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, just a quick kiss—it’s hard to kiss when you’re grinning. Then he bounced up and walked around the room like he was the Michelin Man. “I’d make a great Michelin Man. My ass is already big enough.”
I laughed with him. “Your ass is NOT big,” I grinned.
He laughed a little longer then frowned slightly. “I don’t want to impose on you though. I know how you feel about…things. And you’ve already been so good. I don’t—“
I interrupted him. “Like you said, you’re good for me. And I’ve gotten used to having you around.” It would feel…strange without him.
He put his arms around me again. This time I put mine around him, too. I closed my eyes and rubbed my cheek against his hair. Things would feel wrong without him. And I realized in that moment the full sum of my feelings for Aaron. Not that I hadn’t seen it coming. I had.
I smiled and pulled away slightly. “I want Italian tonight. Let’s go out and get some.” They did say food was a substitute for sex.
He grinned and let go of me, but not before he rubbed against me very slowly and carefully. “Have I mentioned that I’m Italian?” he said with an absolutely wicked smile.
* * *
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:09 pm
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That night was much like the other nights we had slept together. Aaron snuggled against me and I held him. But I could feel that something had changed. Acknowledging my feelings for Aaron—if only to myself—made me more…awareof him. I noticed the way his breath felt like warm, tender fingers softly stroking my skin. I noticed the smell of his hair—coconut—as it tickled my chin. I noticed how the warmth of his body pressed against mine made everywhere he wasn’t touching feel incomplete, like something was missing. And I noticed I didn’t fight the thoughts and the fantasies that slipped into my mind as I drifted off to sleep.
Nothing in Aaron’s behavior changed, however. He still teased me in the same way as he had. His brushing against me or stepping out of his clothes right in front of me or making suggestive comments were always accompanied by a grin that made his eyes sparkle. And when his fingers brushed over mine there was still that same look of resignation in his eyes, the same slightly sad smile on his lips.
And every morning as the warm water washed over me and I let my mind indulge in the fantasy of what I denied my body, I wondered what I would do if he asked just one more time.
We spent the days pretty much trying to visit every tourist attraction within driving distance. Over breakfast we would look through the stack of brochures I had gathered up and decide on something to do that day. And if a place sounded “tourist trappy enough” (Aaron’s words), we would go. We even ended up going to one place called The Mad Hatter’s Tea Party which boasted “the largest collection of teapots in the country.” But it didn’t matter where we went or what we did. I just enjoyed being with Aaron. He made me feel…lighter, as if my lungs were filled with helium instead of air.
The summer crowd started to thin out and the beaches became less crowded. I started to feel less like I glowed in the dark and more like I had that “healthy summer glow” that was as close as I ever got to “tan.” And Aaron’s bruises had just about faded away. We marked the coincidence of these events by spending more time on the beach. We spent some time actually swimming in the ocean. I could see why Aaron had been on the swim team—he was even more like a fish in the ocean than he had been in the pool. Water was his element. I told him he should move to California and take up surfing. He laughed and asked if I would go with him. I laughed and made some smart ass comment, but there was a flipping in the pit of my stomach. Though I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of going with him or the thought that he would eventually go—somewhere, anywhere—without me that I was feeling.
And that was really what I could feel most as the summer went on, the anticipation of the end. Though I was determined to enjoy each day, and did, the nights became longer as they grew shorter. I found myself lying awake longer just so I could savor the feel of him lying against me. I would wake up in the middle of the night and sometimes he would be awake. I wouldn’t open my eyes, I would just lie there and try to keep my breathing slow and regular as I felt his fingers stroking my stomach—back and forth, softly, slowly—as his lips would caress my chest or my shoulder. And sometimes he would get up and go into the bathroom and I could hear him relieving his erection—and I would lie there and relieve mine, as well. I knew he had to know, had to know I was awake, that my body wanted his as much as his wanted mine. But we never spoke of it. Not then, not in the morning, not at anytime.
Would it have been different if one of us had spoken? Could I have denied myself—could I have denied him?
We spent a lot of our time on the beach talking. We would walk along the water’s edge and he would tell me about his plans for the future. He wanted to be a writer but his dad was an architect and he had always planned to follow in his footsteps. He figured he would get his degree, work in his dad’s business until he could establish his own—and do some writing on the side. And he wanted to do some traveling, wanted to see the places he had read about so that maybe someday he could write about them, too. He said he would like to minor in archeology. He figured archeology, architecture and writing were the perfect combination.
I told him how I had wanted to be a writer, also. But while I had been at college I’d tutored some other students and discovered I enjoyed teaching. There was something about passing on the understanding, the love of the words and the language to others, getting them to not just learn the structure but to feel it as the pulsing, living thing that it was… That caught me. And it kept me. I told him how my life with Jeremy had taken the edge off my desire to write. I had settled into his life and had forgotten some of the things that had once been important to me. Such as writing and traveling and thinking of things deeper than our (always “our,” never “my”) plans for the week.
“So will you write now that you’re no longer together?” he asked me as we were sitting on the fishing pier watching the sunset.
“Maybe. It’s been a long time,” I replied with a sigh. I wasn’t really sure if I had any “writing” in me. I hadn’t really made any attempts at writing anything but a poem or two since Jeremy had left. I had no “great experiences” I could draw from, there had been nothing in my life to inspire words. And “write what you know” had always seemed the best advice. What did I “know”?
He picked up my hand and held it. “You should write. Even if it is only a blog. There is so much inside you, so much you don’t say that I can feel.”
It was always difficult after our talks. Difficult to just go on with the day—with the night. While we talked I could lose myself in our conversations, forget who I was, who he was…forget the things that kept the invisible wall between us. We were just two people, two people growing closer with every word.
I wondered if he felt that, as well.
* * *
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:10 pm
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I was lying on a blanket on the beach. It had rained the previous two days and it felt good to get some sun—which is what I was doing, just lying there getting some sun, trying to deepen that “healthy glow” I had acquired. I could count the days on one hand now, the days until I had to go home—or to whatever my apartment was now. Aaron was cooling off in the ocean, doing some body surfing. I raised myself up on my elbows and watched him. His hair was nearly completely blonde now, his skin tanned to that classic deep “Coppertone” tan I had always envied while growing up. I closed my eyes and pictured his eyes, how the blue was in danger of going from “just blue” to a “cornflower blue,” their color subtly altered by the changes in the background of his face.
I was lost in the warmth of the sun and the image of his eyes—and didn’t hear him coming.
“Hey!” I yelled and opened my eyes to see Aaron standing over me shaking his head, showering me with drops of water that felt like ice. I reached up and grabbed his arm and pulled him down. I did it without thinking. It was just a reaction
He fell on top of me and as his cold, wet skin pressed against my hot, dry skin a sensation like an electric shock shot right through my body. I could tell by the breath I heard him take that it had done the same thing to him. We both lay there for the longest time, his body against mine, mine against his, neither of us really breathing. Then he let go of my hand and brushed his fingers over my cheek and down my neck and over my shoulder. My hands sought his skin, running down his sides and around his back, pulling him closer to me. Our eyes met and he pulled away and stood up, taking my hand and pulling me up with him. I picked up the blanket and we walked along the beach in silence, his hand still in mine.
The sun was setting. The clouds that had brought the rain for the past two days were forming again, turning the sunset into shades of silver and bronze. It was an unusual color for a sunset, an almost sad color for a sunset, as if the summer sun was saying good-bye.
He stopped and I stopped, and we stood there for a few moments, both of us looking out at the ocean, watching the steady bands of black roll up onto the shore then slowly slip back into the sea. He turned to me, still holding my hand, and laid his other hand on my chest. He didn’t raise his eyes to mine, he just stood there, looking at his fingers as they traced small circles over my skin. I leaned forward, wanting to feel his hair against my face, wanting to let the smell of coconut fill my senses. But at that very moment he looked up at me, his lips parted slightly, his eyes dark as they looked into mine. I didn’t stop, I didn’t pull back. I slipped my free hand around to the back of his neck, my fingers brushing against the soft ends of his hair and I kissed him.
I felt his fingers flutter against my skin as if they trembled, and he pressed his body closer to mine. My fingers tightened around his as our kiss deepened, and I heard a soft sound vibrate against my lips as his tongue sought mine. It felt like the world around us was standing still, even the ocean seemed to pause in its progress, wrapping us both in a silence that was ours alone.
He broke the kiss, pulling back slightly, letting the gentle ocean breeze pass between us as his hand slid down my chest and rested on my waist. He looked at me. I looked at him. He seemed blurry, unfocused around the edges. And there was a question in his eyes, one he asked without words. I answered it silently, my palm cupping his face, my thumb brushing over his lips.
We walked back to the hotel, the silence still holding us within our own world. Once inside the room, Aaron slipped his arms around my waist and pressed against me. But instead of kissing me, he pressed his face against my neck. “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
He looked up at me then, a little furrow between his brows. “I don’t want to be a regret. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life trying to forget me.” He pressed closer against me and closed his eyes, rubbing his nose against my neck. “I don’t want you to forget me.”
Forget him? I slipped my fingers under his chin and raised his face to look into his eyes. “Forget you, Aaron?” I asked softly. “I could never forget you.” I breathed the words against his lips. “And you could never be a regret.”
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:10 pm
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His lips parted and he ran his tongue over the inside of my lip, teasing me with the taste of him. I pulled him closer against me as I walked us both to the bed, my lips never leaving his. His hands slid inside my swim shorts and pushed them down over my hips. My erection sprang free and I heard him catch his breath as his fingers brushed against it.
He pulled away slightly and ran his fingers over my shoulders and my chest. “Wait,” he said softly. I looked at him, my brows knitting slightly. He smiled and shook his head and rubbed his thumb over the area between my eyebrows. “No, I just want to open the balcony door. I want to hear the ocean.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled my shorts off the rest of the way. He was only a moment and then he was standing in front of me. I smiled up at him and I could see his cheeks flush slightly as he stepped out of his swim shorts. I reached for him, my hands sliding down his sides, resting on his hips, and I pulled him closer to me. He moaned softly as I brushed my lips against his chest, trailing a line of kisses down over his stomach. He laid his hands on my shoulders and I could feel his fingers trembling.
He took a sharp breath and his fingers tightened on my shoulders as my lips brushed softly over the tip of his erection. I smiled and teased him with my tongue and his **** twitched and he moaned again.
I gently pulled his hands from my shoulders and pulled him down onto the bed beside me. I retraced that line of kisses, this time from his stomach up over his chest, lingering at the base of his throat for a moment before following the line of his jaw to his lips. As we kissed, Aaron moved further onto the bed until he was lying down. I knelt beside him and he wrapped his fingers—long, sensitive fingers--around my **** and stroked me gently. I moaned softly, but I pulled his hand away. I didn’t want that, not just yet.
“Justin, what—“ Aaron began, but I cut him off, covering his lips with mine before he could ask me why I had stopped him. I deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue slowly, sensually over his. He sighed into my mouth and his arms went around me. I pressed my body against his and he arched his back and rubbed against me. I could feel how hard he was, and I groaned and ground my **** against his for a moment before pulling my body away—just a little.
“Easy, Aaron,” I murmured against his lips. “We have all night.” I didn’t want to rush this.
I pulled my lips slowly from his, catching his lower lip in my teeth for just a moment. I smiled into his eyes and shook my head a little as I took off my glasses and set them on the nightstand. “They get in the way at times, fall off at the most awkward moments,” I murmured as I trailed a line of soft kisses slowly, very slowly from his chin to his ear. I tugged on his earlobe with my lips, letting my warm breath caress his ear.
He whimpered and his fingers pressed into my skin as he raised his hips and rubbed against me again. “Jusstiiinnn…” he drew my name out, turning it into a plaintive whine.
“Patience, baby,” I whispered in his ear, “Patience, my sweet Aaron.”
I could taste the salt from the ocean on his skin as my tongue teased a path from his ear down to his nipple. I made a soft “mmm” sound as I ran my tongue around the little pink bud. The ocean and Aaron’s skin. It was a heady taste and I wanted more. I ran my tongue across his nipple, and he moaned deeply as I took it into my mouth and began sucking.
“Ohhh, that feels soooo good,” he breathed, his fingers running through my hair while his other hand rubbed hard against my ass.
I tugged on his nipple with my teeth, and he gave a soft cry as I bit a little harder before letting go. I played with his other nipple with my fingers as my lips moved down over his stomach. “Mmm,” I murmured as my lips found the tip of his ****. “Does this feel good, too, Aaron?” I asked as my tongue circled his head.
“Yessss,” he breathed, arching his back.
I licked and sucked on the tip of his ****, drawing the droplets of pre-cum into my mouth. I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was sweet and salty and I wanted to taste more of him, to taste all of him.
He gasped as I took him fully into my mouth and I groaned deeply in response. The taste of him was intoxicating and I let it just drown my senses as I moved my mouth over him, my tongue massaging his shaft as I urged him toward his climax. He moaned with every stroke, both of his hands now clutching my shoulders as he began bucking his hips upward, thrusting into my mouth.
He reached his climax quickly, his body tensing for a moment then shuddering as I felt him release into my mouth. I made a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan as I pulled my mouth from him and ran my tongue slowly over him, licking away the last traces of his cum. I raised myself up and looked down at him. His face was flushed, his lips parted, his eyes closed. I knew I had never seen anyone or anything more beautiful than Aaron in that moment. I kissed him gently, slipping my tongue between his parted lips, sharing the taste that overwhelmed my senses with the one it belonged to.
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:12 pm
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I pulled back and looked at him again. I traced his lips with my fingertip and he opened his eyes and smiled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair and caressed my face with his other hand. I ran my fingers over his forearm as I pressed against him, my erection aching as it rubbed against him. He closed his mouth around my fingertip and rubbed his tongue against my finger, much as I had run mine against his ****. I groaned and pressed harder against him. I wanted him. I wanted to be inside him, to take him, to join our bodies completely. But I hadn’t thought…The thought that I would be having sex with anyone hadn’t entered my mind when I’d packed. I pulled away from him and groaned. He asked the question with a raise of his eyebrows. “I don’t have anything…” I said and could feel myself flushing.
He laughed softly and wrapped his legs around my waist. “It’s ok. I was a boy scout when I was a kid—you know our motto-- ‘Be Prepared.’ ” He reached over and opened the drawer of the nightstand. “I had hopes,” he said with a flush of his cheek and a little smile.
I looked in the drawer and I laughed as I saw a big box of condoms and a big tube of lube. I ran my hands over his thighs and leaned down and kissed him. “You had a lot of hope, I see.”
He nodded and brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers. “Hopes, dreams, fantasies.” He dropped his hand down, letting his fingers brush over my chest and my stomach before wrapping them gently around my erection and giving it a slow, gentle stroke.
I groaned and reached into the drawer. He took the condom from my fingers. “No, let me,” he whispered.
I watched as his fingers opened the package. Beautiful fingers. Long, sensitive fingers. And I ran mine over his as he slipped the condom over my erection. He lingered there, stroking me softly, his legs still wrapped around my waist. I slipped my hands under his thighs and he pulled his knees up, exposing his entrance, raising his hips and offering it to me.
I caught my breath and leaned down and brushed my lips lightly over his entrance and he made a sound of surprise. I laughed softly and ran my tongue along the back of his thigh as he held his knees against his chest. I put some lube on my finger and touched my finger to his entrance, rubbing it lightly. He moaned deeply as my finger slipped inside him and I answered him with a moan of my own as I felt him tighten around my finger. I withdrew my finger and rubbed my **** against him. I hesitated for a moment. I was sure of what I wanted. And I was fairly certain it was what he wanted, too. But still I hesitated, my head running, once again, through all the reasons why it was wrong, why I shouldn’t.
But then he rubbed his ankles against my hips and his feet against my ass. “Please, Justin…” he moaned, as if he was aware of my thoughts, aware that I needed him to say it. He took my **** in his hand and moved so that the tip was pushing against his entrance. He stroked me firmly and moaned my name again. “Justin…please…”
I groaned and pushed the tip of my **** inside him. He gasped and I felt him clench around me. I nearly pulled away, afraid I would hurt him, but his hands went around my waist, his fingers digging into my ass as he held me tightly, pulling me forward against him, pulling me deeper inside him.
I held my breath as I felt his tight heat surround my aching ****; and I closed my eyes and ran my hands over his legs as I released my breath slowly. He slid his legs up and I wrapped my arms around them holding them close against me. I was holding the moment as tightly as I was holding his legs. I knew that soon the feeling of being inside him, of being inside this beautiful boy with the smile that made my heart flip as much as it made his eyes sparkle, would be lost in the act, in the need, in the release. So I held onto it as long as I could, savored it, committed it to memory—then surrendered myself to the desire that I had denied us both for so long.
Aaron moaned and writhed beneath me as my movements went from long, slow, aching strokes to quick, hard, deep thrusts as I came to my climax. And when my body tensed and shuddered with release, he wrapped his legs around my waist and pulled me down against him, his arms wrapping around my neck, his breath hot as he murmured my name against my ear. I pressed my face against his shoulder, my lips brushing over his skin as I answered his murmurs with my own.
Afterwards we lay there in silence, and I listened to the sound of the ocean and the sound of Aaron’s breathing as he drifted off to sleep in my arms. But as I followed him to sleep, I couldn’t stop myself from counting the days, counting the days before I would lose this boy I had fallen so deeply in love with.
* * *
---
And by and by my Soul returned to me, And answered "I Myself amd Heav'n and Hell"
Omar Khayyam
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6/18/2006, 7:13 pm
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