by Leta Blake
“Huh. Looks like you’ve outgrown it,” Joel said. “Like a lot of things.”
“I can still fit.” Casey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, then looked out over the lake. “This was your grandmother’s land, right? I remember when she left it to you.”
“Yep.”
“It’s a great view. Really good property here.”
“Eh. Not as prestigious as the other side, of course. It’s got a decent view but nothing like the one your folks have of the mountains to the east and lake to the west.” He nodded at Casey’s parents’ place across the way.
Casey gasped. “Wait, what?”
Across the narrow neck of the lake, the Stevens’ windows reflected the pale gray sky, but in the daylight Joel could clearly make out the big wreaths hung on the porch and patio doors. Both looked to be Vreeland holly-and-fir wreathes, if he wasn’t mistaken. Vicious stickers protruded from some of those. He was always warning Angel and his customers about them. A bitter, hateful part of him hoped Casey’s folks had gotten poked while hanging them up, but the angel on his shoulder hoped they hadn’t.
“I didn’t realize you could see my parents’ house from here.” Casey narrowed his eyes against the gray glare as he peered toward the fancy neighborhood on the opposite side of the water. “That’s bananas.”
“Yeah, bananas.” Joel snorted.
Casey’s eye roll was fairly satisfying, so Joel let it drop. They stared at the water together, and when the silence grew uncomfortable, Joel patted his jacket pockets and pulled out a mostly empty pack of cigarettes. He’d planned to quit this year, but most days seemed to bring a new reason to grant himself the gift of one more cigarette. He shook one free and then, glancing up at Casey, he shook out another.
He doubted Casey had any idea what a gift he was giving him in one of his preciously parsed out smokes. But never let it be said that Joel was a scrooge with what he had. He might be curmudgeonly, but he was generous.
Lighting both cigarettes in his own mouth, enjoying the hot smoke as it swirled into his throat and lungs, he closed his eyes. When the nicotine hit his veins, he felt steadier. Opening his eyes, he handed the second smoke over to Casey, who took it as gingerly and inexpertly as he ever had. Joel tried to hold back a laugh as he watched Casey’s plump lips wrap around the end and take a small draw.
The reaction wasn’t as intense as it had been the first time Joel had convinced Casey to share a smoke with him, though. Coughing until tears came to his eyes, Casey covered his mouth and shook his head hard. “Wow. It’s been a long time,” he croaked. Then he took another drag and coughed less, exhaling in a jerky stream. “Oh, yeah,” he moaned gently. “There’s the rush I remember.”
“Good?”
Casey shrugged and considered the cigarette before taking another puff. “Kind of like an Oreo: not good at all, but at the same time, fantastic.”
“I hear you.”
They smoked their cigarettes in silence. Joel was on the verge of making a smartass comment about how Casey could go by the gas station and buy his own pack the next time he needed a smoke, instead of dropping in where he was unwanted. But it wasn’t true that he was unwanted, and while Joel had no problem being a liar, he didn’t want to turn into a hateful man like his dad. So, he kept that unkind comment to himself, which was better than he’d managed last night.
A sad shame filled him as he remembered the things he’d said. So what if he’d been hurt by Casey ghosting him after high school? He didn’t have to be an asshole. He wanted to be better than that.
Eventually, Casey turned to him, all amber-eyed seriousness, and announced without preamble, “I’m gay.”
Joel glanced his way. “I know.”
“You do?” Casey swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Yeah.”
“How?” Did he sound scared or was that just Joel’s imagination?
“Google,” Joel fibbed.
Close enough. He wasn’t going to admit to Facebook-stalking Casey like a lovesick psycho. And he’d never own up to the fact that he’d even downloaded the Instagram app once just to see if Casey had an account. (He didn’t. Or at least, he hadn’t at the time.)
Casey’s eyes brightened. “You looked me up online?”
“Curiosity. Killed the cat.” He flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. “You know how it is.”
“Oh, yeah, man. I know how it is.” Casey nodded meaningfully, his eyes bright and yet somehow shy. “I’ve tried to look you up, but there’s nothing. Just stuff about Vreeland’s and that old Facebook account I made for you.”
“Just the way I like it.” Joel smiled tightly. He wasn’t a big fan of the Internet. At least not for anything other than streaming TV shows and watching porn. Why did people want to share their every waking moment with the world? Privacy was a thing he cherished. So was his dignity.
“So you know?” Casey took another drag on his cigarette and released it slowly. “About me?”
Joel nodded and let smoke stream from his nostrils.
Casey ashed his cigarette, opened and closed his mouth a few times, and then asked, his voice shaking vulnerably, “Is that what your attitude yesterday was all about? Do you have a problem with me being gay?”
“Why the fuck would I have a problem with it?” Joel glared at Casey, flicking ash on the ground between his feet.
“I don’t know. You were friends with RJ and Becca, so it’s not like you’re a bigot. Or you weren’t.”
“Still not.”
“Okay. Good. But I thought maybe you couldn’t handle it if it was, you know, me, who was gay.” Casey licked his lips, his shoulders drawing up higher. He managed to curl his limbs tighter on the bench, like he was bracing himself against something.
“You? What’s so special about you?” Oh God, everything. Joel internally rolled his eyes at himself.
“Nothing. But did you…maybe you…” Casey groaned, thrust the cigarette back in his mouth, and raked his hands through his hair before dropping them to hang between his knees. After a few puffs, he pulled the cigarette free. “This is stupid. It shouldn’t be so hard.”
Joel studied Casey carefully—the tension in his eyes and back, the pleading need for acceptance in his eyes—and he didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. It was too much like the last time they sat on this bench, so close to confessions that would have come too late to make a difference anyway.
Joel took a steadying drag from his cigarette before exhaling hard. “Go back to your boyfriend, Casey. Leave me the hell alone, okay?”
Casey tilted his head, brows knitting together. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Joel narrowed his eyes. “You don’t?”
“What made you think I did?” Casey’s smile broke open knowingly, and he chuckled. Worse, he winked. “Oh. Right. Google.”
Joel shrugged, tamping back the horrible, electric satisfaction currently flash-bombing his soul at the words “I don’t have a boyfriend.” He concentrated on keeping his fingers from shaking when he sucked on his cigarette again.
Casey stubbed his cigarette out and tucked the butt into the pocket of his pants. “His name was Theo, and we’ve been over for a long time.”
“Whatever. Like I care.” Joel sighed and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. The wooden slats dug into his ass. The combination of hope and satisfaction faded quickly. Nothing worked out for him. It never had, and it never would. This conversation was pointless. He stubbed out his cigarette and flicked the butt into the grass. Irritably, he spit out, “Why aren’t you leaving yet?”
“Because I want to stay.”
Joel sighed glumly and gazed out at the narrow lake again. Bruno came trotting along the water’s edge with a doggy smile on his face and his tail wagging happily. Joel watched him and pondered. His heart tripped over itself, and he licked his lips nervously. “Well, since you’re not going anywhere, let me ask you something.”
“All right?”
/> He didn’t take his eyes away from Bruno’s progress toward them. “Why’d you leave me behind like I was trash? Like you didn’t have use for me anymore?”
Casey’s breath caught. “How could you think that?”
“Who wouldn’t?” The only way he could say the words was to fully focus on the lake. The small ripples in the water as the wind blew across the top. The sparkle as the clouds broke and the sun peeped out. “One minute we’re friends. Best friends, even. Or that’s what you said. The next minute you’re gone. Then your folks moved. You didn’t text. You didn’t call.”
“You didn’t either.”
“I did. Once.”
“No, you…” Casey trailed off, recollection flitting through his eyes. “You’re right. You did. Just once.”
“You didn’t text back.” God, how pathetic did he sound? How gay? He could imagine his father’s sneering taunts. Joel popped up the collar of his jacket and ducked into it like he could hide.
“No. I didn’t. Do you know why?” Casey’s mouth twisted bitterly. “It was my first week at NYU, and I was scared shitless. I knew no one. The city was overwhelming. I’d come out to my parents before I left, and my dad didn’t take it well.”
Joel swallowed hard, the click audible between them. Mr. Stevens could be scary. Not like his own dad, not violent, but demanding all the same. Intense. If he hadn’t taken Casey coming out well…
“Yeah,” Casey said, nodding. “You have no idea how much that last night before I caught the plane to New York sucked. And in the midst of dealing with all that, what did I get from you? My best friend, the boy I… The person I was dying to hear from? I got an asshole text saying, ‘So, you some frat boy’s bottom bitch yet?’”
“Oh.” Joel’s stomach dropped. He’d somehow forgotten that little detail in his butt-hurt understanding of what had happened. Or maybe he’d blocked it out. It hadn’t been his finest moment, that text. He’d been scared too. Ashamed.
“Yeah. Oh.” Casey raised a brow. “It proved my biggest fear back then: that you’d hate me if you knew the truth.”
Joel cringed. He opened his mouth to apologize, and instead what came out was, “What was I supposed to say? ‘I miss you already.’ How gay would that have been?”
Casey’s eyes flared brightly, a hint of rare anger. “Can you not use that word that way? You’re talking to a gay guy.”
“Funny. So are you.”
Casey coughed, choking on his own spit apparently, and didn’t stop until Joel pounded on his back. “Really?” Casey gasped, eyes watering.
“Yeah, I’m a fag,” Joel snapped, but it didn’t hold much fire. “Sue me.”
“Wait, wait. Slow down. Just…” Casey turned to Joel and reached out tentatively. For a frozen moment they only stared at each other. Then Casey inhaled and took one of Joel’s hands in both of his.
A shiver rocked Joel. Casey’s fingers were soft and smooth, the hands of a student, and a wealthy one at that. He clenched his own callused hand tight around them, hard, hurtful—hoping it hurt—but desperate not to let go.
Casey returned the grip. “You’re gay.”
Joel’s head swam. How to answer that? Hadn’t he already said, for fuck’s sake? “It’s untested, but…yeah.”
“Untested?” Casey’s brows lowered as he cocked his head. “What’s that mean?”
Joel’s mouth went dry, and he darted his eyes away from Casey’s, heat rising up his neck. He could stand up now. Go to work. Forget all about this conversation and Casey fucking Stevens. He didn’t have to tell him anything. He owed him nothing. Not a single damn raw truth.
His voice was ragged as he replied, “Never met a guinea pig I thought was worth the effort of fucking, I guess.”
“You’ve never…with a guy.” Casey didn’t phrase it like a question, but his voice was so gentle that Joel’s heart ached.
“With anyone.” Jesus, why was he saying all this? Why did Casey make him so weak?
Casey’s head dropped back, and he stared up into the branches of the oak above them. “RJ was right,” he whispered. “Wow.”
“About?”
“About everything.” Casey lowered his chin to gaze at Joel again. “I think. Maybe not everything.”
Joel shrugged, his fingers aching, and he pulled his hand away from Casey. He crossed his arms and tucked his fingers beneath his armpits to try to wipe away the sensation of Casey’s touch. He was weak to want it. Stupid to think he could ever have it. So what if they were both gay? Casey was rich and living in New York, and Joel was…Joel.
“So those girls you talked about going out with?”
Joel scoffed. “Covering for my super-duper queerness, dude. It’s pretty obvious.”
Casey laughed quietly, shaking his head, his eyes wide in amazement. It tore Joel’s gut up. He wanted to touch that lightness. “Apparently obvious to everyone who isn’t me.”
“Everyone? Who else knows my private business? Besides RJ.” Joel studied Casey’s face. “I think I’ve managed to keep it off Google.”
“Just RJ and maybe Becca.”
“Oh, Becca.” He shrugged, a small smile tugging involuntarily at his mouth. “Yeah. She knows. We’re close. I came out to her first. And, until now, only.” He forced his lips wider, but the fake smile felt weird on his face. “Hope you’re happy. You’re the second person I’ve told.”
Casey leaned in closer and whispered, “Does it feel good to say it?”
Joel couldn’t handle the open curiosity on Casey’s face. He turned his attention back to Bruno, who’d just finished digging a hole by the water. He studied his emotions. “No. It feels shitty. Like it always has.”
“Why?”
Joel breathed slowly, wishing he dared dip back into his cigarettes for another smoke. He didn’t look Casey’s way, shrugging again. “I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t have to feel shitty. It can feel…good.”
“I guess you’d know.”
“Meaning?”
“You’ve had sex with guys, right? Probably with more than one?” Joel shoved down a surge of jealousy that anyone had touched Casey—felt his soft skin, heard his cries of ecstasy. It should have been him. It could never be him. “Innocent, nerdy Casey Stevens getting more ass than me. Who’d have ever seen that coming?”
“Do you even want to get ass?” Casey asked, sliding his fingers over Joel’s hand again, trying to take hold and sending sparks spiraling up his arm. “I mean, you could. You’re hot enough, and there are apps for that.” A frown crinkled Casey’s forehead.
“Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t want do that stuff with just anyone.” Joel pulled his hand away from Casey’s tantalizing touch and crossed his arms over his chest again, not sure when he’d uncrossed them anyway. He frowned at Bruno’s happy dogface as he dug a second hole nearer the tree line. He’d need to fill those in later. There was always something more that he needed to do, another hurdle in his way, another hole to fall into.
“But it doesn’t have to be like that. You can take it slow. I’ve found all kinds of guys on those apps. Some guys just want hand jobs. Or blow jobs. You don’t have to jump in with both feet right away.”
“Apps for blow jobs.” Joel shook his head. “What has this shitty world come to?”
Casey whispered, “And some guys are really into kissing. They’re happy to do that and nothing else.”
Joel stiffened.
“What? Kissing?” Casey asked. His voice grew even gentler. He leaned in, and Joel felt his breath brush against his ear as he whispered, “Has anyone ever kissed you, Joel?”
Joel’s pulse beat insanely in his temples and behind his eyes. Dizziness swept over him as Casey touched his cheek.
“What are you doing?” Joel choked out.
Casey slid his fingers down to take hold of Joel’s chin. He stared into Joel’s eyes, giving him time to see the kiss coming, to avoid it if he really wanted. Joel gasped. It was slow motion, like molasses. It
felt like he was dying as he waited for Casey’s mouth to dip and press, damp and soft, against his own.
Joel shuddered as Casey’s mouth touched his. The sweet kiss lingered. Then Joel moaned when Casey’s lips parted and the kiss grew wet. He didn’t know what to do, how to respond, and so he let it happen. He let Casey kiss him again and again. Softly, gently, carefully, and with soul-destroying tenderness. Joel shook, and his dick grew hard, pressing against his jeans.
“Wow,” Casey breathed against his mouth, and then he kissed Joel again.
Joel’s hands trembled as he raised them to Casey’s shoulders and finally kissed him back. His pulse thrummed wildly, and his cock ached. Time stretched out. Casey’s taste and the tingling sensation of his breath, his lips, and his gentle fingers broke Joel open until he was panting and shaking with need.
“Now you can’t say you’ve never been kissed,” Casey murmured as he pulled away. His eyes were blown wide, and they were glossy with emotions Joel didn’t feel confident enough to name.
The cool morning air tingled against his now-wet lips, and the only thing Joel could think to do was pull out another precious cigarette and light it. “I’m running low,” he whispered in explanation of not offering Casey a second smoke too. His hands shook as he took a draw. “Sorry.”
Casey watched him carefully, and Joel looked anywhere but at those questing eyes. What the hell had that been about? What was he supposed to say? Or do?
“We can share,” Casey said, plucking the cigarette from between Joel’s fingers and breathing in a puff. Joel’s stomach somersaulted seeing Casey’s plump, kiss-reddened lips wrapped around his cigarette. He wanted to kiss him again.
And that was no good at all. That was terrible, in fact.
Casey handed the cigarette back. “I shouldn’t smoke more. I might puke.” He smiled softly. “I don’t do it much now.”
“You never did it much back then either.” Joel let the cigarette dangle between his index and middle finger. His mind raced as he asked unsteadily, “So, what? Do you expect me to thank you for that?”
