You May Have Met Him

by Sebastian Carter

  “You're staying in tonight?”

  Jason whipped around at the sound of Anderson’s voice, the reply forming in his mind quickly dying in his throat as he ran his eyes down the man’s scandalously underdressed body. Droplets of water still glistened on his bare chest, and the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips. Jason swallowed and reigned his thoughts back in. Barely. “Uh, yeah. Decided to take your advice about not drowning myself in alcohol,” he stuttered out.

  Shit. What's wrong with me?

  “Missed me that much, huh?” Anderson laughed deeply—damn, since when did his laugh sound like that—and ran a hand through his dark locks, shaking loose a couple droplets of water that fell onto his shoulders and ran down the curve of his collarbones, leaving behind glistening trails in their wake. Jason felt a rush of heat flare in his stomach, and his cheeks burned from embarrassment.

  “Why would I want to spend time with you?” he denied lamely, “it's the food that I'm after.”

  “So it is me, then,” Anderson winked and headed towards his bedroom. “Pull the bell peppers and the onions out of the fridge, would you? I'm trying out a new recipe tonight,” he continued, his voice muffled through the wall between them. Jason called back an okay and pulled the ingredients out, suddenly nervous about his decision to stay in tonight.

  Anderson emerged from his room a second later wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a dark green v-neck sweater. Jason wrung his hands into his dirty t-shirt, suddenly self conscious. How could someone look so good with all their clothes on?

  Anderson joined him behind the counter, knocking their shoulders together playfully. “What's on your mind? You're quiet today,” he said, rolling up his sleeves––Woah, were Anderson’s arms always that muscular? He pulled one of the green pepper towards himself and began chopping, giving Jason a sideways glance and a small smile. It was cute. Kind of.

  Jason suddenly felt distinctly uncomfortable being in such close proximity to the other man and inched away slightly, trying to put a little more space between them. He didn't understand where these thoughts were coming from, but they weren’t normal. He was Anderson’s friend. Maybe friends thought about each other like this sometimes? Not likely. It had been nine years since any male had made him question things like this. Jason didn't like it. Jason didn't like it at all.

  He flinched as a hand touched his shoulder, then cursed himself for having such a strange reaction to such a normal touch. “Hey, you okay?” Anderson asked worriedly, his full attention now on Jason. Looking into Anderson’s sparkling grey eyes was like being bathed in sunshine, the kind that kissed the skin comfortably and didn’t burn after being under it for too long. But for some reason Jason felt as if he were standing right next to the sun, and if he spent any longer under the other’s scrutinizing gaze, he’d simply evaporate from the intensity of it all.

  “Yeah–yeah, I’m fine,” Jason said patiently. “Just not completely awake yet, that’s all.”

  Anderson hummed at Jason’s unconvincing response but went back to cooking without another word about it. “Help me out here, would you?”

  Deciding that now was not the time to start having some sort of existential crisis, Jason buried his strange thoughts about Anderson in the back of his mind for later and joined him in dinner’s preparations. While he wasn't a good cook, he could follow directions and would chop or prep anything Anderson asked of him. It helped take his mind off things trying to get the peppers in uniform strips.

  The meal was tense, although Anderson seemed to be actively trying to fill the heavy silence by being more chatty than usual. Jason tried to avoid too much attention to how the man’s eyes lit up as he spoke about his day, his hands waving wildly as he described something that excited him. With every swallow of food the lump in his throat grew, and he found himself unable to add anything to the conversation, guiltily keeping his eyes trained on his fork.

  Nothing was wrong, but Jason got the feeling that something, although he had no idea what, had changed. He felt different when he looked at Anderson. It was new, and he didn’t like it.

  Allowing himself a glance up at the man in front of him, Jason tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat whenever their eyes met. It’s probably nothing, anyway.

  Chapter Five

  After the previous week’s awkward evening mealtime thoughts about Anderson, Jason had been pointedly avoiding thinking about the man, but living in the same house made it considerably more difficult. Especially since Jason had started to notice traces of the man everywhere.

  Brushing his teeth that morning, he noticed the addition of several bottles of moisturizer and a toothbrush nestled in a plastic cup right next to his. When he opened the fridge in search of sustenance, he took note of the new, healthy additions to its contents that would’ve never made their way into the fridge while Jason was still living there alone. Jason purposely avoided them in favor of some leftover pizza from the night before. He couldn’t really justify why he refused to acknowledge the new foods, exactly, but it felt like he had won some sort of personal battle with himself by pretending they didn’t exist.

  And then, there was earlier that week, when Jason had accidentally washed his hair with a fruity smelling shampoo that hadn’t been there before––at least now he knew why any room Anderson lingered in for too long smelled suspiciously of strawberries.

  It was hard to avoid someone who had so seamlessly managed to integrate himself into Jason’s life, especially with the events of the previous night imprinted in his mind.

  He had originally intended to spend the whole night out on the town with several of his buddies, but something had come up for each of them, leaving him all alone by the end of the afternoon. Jason had absolutely no idea how such a perfectly planned coincidence could occur at the most inconvenient time, but it’d happened, and so he was forced to head home a lot earlier than expected.

  It was probably for the best that they cancelled. He was pretty tired, anyway. Rubbing his eyes with his arm, he stumbled his way into the apartment, taking a moment to throw off his sneakers before flopping down on the couch and flicking on the TV. Even though his friends had all bailed on him, he still wanted to do something. Naturally, by something, he meant binge-watching an entire season of a crappy drama, or maybe watching the entire Spiderman series and wishing he had weird spider powers. He felt totally justified wallowing in his lonely misery, already mentally calculating how much ice cream they had left in the fridge for him to comfort himself with.

  Maybe he’d invite Anderson to his movie marathon. He could use the company even if he still felt kind of awkward around the guy after the weird vibes he got from their dinner together last week.

  He got up to pull some drinks out of the fridge and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave to pop while he pulled out the blankets on the couch and slid a random disc out of his collection into the DVD player. Finished with his preparations, Jason decided he might as well go and ask Anderson if he wanted to join.

  The door to Anderson’s bedroom was closed, not unusual when the man was in there, but kind of unexpected, considering that Jason was pretty sure he’d leave it open under the assumption that his roommate would be out all night.

  He lifted his hand to knock––and then stopped, his mouth dropping open. Was that… moaning? Heat rushed to Jason’s face, and he was sure that his blush was so dark that it spread to his ears, and maybe even down his neck. Jason backed away from the door, unwilling to make his presence known while Anderson was in such a compromising position.

  He swiveled on the balls of his feet, fully intending on high-tailing his way back to the TV, but when another moan floated through the closed door sounding suspiciously like Jason’s name, he froze in his tracks.

  Embarrassment quickly transformed into crushing mortification, and Jason suddenly found it difficult to breathe. His roommate, the one that he shared his meals with, the one that took care of him when he was hungover, the one that kept his tooth
brush in the same cup––was jerking off to him. He knew Anderson was gay, and he was fine with it, because it had nothing to do with him, not really. But this changed things.

  His gay roommate was jerking off. To him.

  At that point, Jason knew it would be better if he just left, backed away from the door and forget he ever heard anything, but no matter how much he wished he could move, his legs refused to cooperate. The moans were louder now, a steady mantra of Jason, Jason, so unlike the way the words flowed against his skin when he pleasured his girlfriend. It was maddening.

  Jason clenched his fists and bit down on his lip, hard. Hard enough to draw blood. The salty flavor spread on his tongue, an anchor to reality, rather than this sick dream that he was trapped in; it had to be a dream. If not a dream, then a hallucination––he could never accept this as reality.

  Otherwise, there would be no other way for him to rationalize the sensation of his own cock straining against the inside of his pants, pulsing to the sound of Anderson’s husky whines. Jason barely managed to stifle a moan that threatened to escape his own mouth as he heard the squeak of Anderson’s mattress and a loud, needy groan filtering through the door as he came.

  Shit. Swearing under his breath, Jason finally managed to break out of his trance, rushing quickly to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him, no longer caring if Anderson knew he was there or not. Stripping and throwing his clothes to the ground, he stepped into the shower, turning the water on its coldest setting in hopes of killing his raging boner.

  It didn’t work. Gritting his teeth and leaning his head against the cool tile walls, Jason slowly turned the temperature of the water up before hesitantly reaching a hand down to wrap around his cock. Desire bubbled beneath the surface of his skin, and he bit down harshly on his own arm to try and stifle any sounds that might’ve broken free; he didn’t want to think about anything that related to Anderson––not now. He tugged at himself in sharp, jerky, movements, ignoring the tendril of pleasure that curled in his gut in favor of simply getting it over as quickly as possible.

  Release didn’t come slow or gentle; it was violent and sudden, not unlike the turmoil that twisted his stomach into knots and left him tingling with apprehension. The water washed away the evidence.

  Breathing out shakily, he unclenched his jaw from his arm, wincing at the deep red indents his teeth had left in his skin. It hurt, but it made him feel better somehow. Maybe because in that moment, he felt so utterly lost and confused that even pain was preferable to thinking about what had just occurred. After a moment of catching his breath, he stepped out of the shower and pulled on a pair a sweats that he had discarded there from that morning, blearily splashing his face with some cold water from the sink.

  He didn’t know what to think. He was scared. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how he had expected things to go when he’d invited Anderson to stay with him, and now he was in too deep to back out.

  He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to think about it at all, not now, not ever. Anderson was making him question himself just as Tommy had done. Made him question everything he thought he was and everything he thought he'd be.

  Staring at his foggy reflection in the mirror, he swiped a hand over his face, slightly surprised at how normal he still managed to look, even if he felt anything but.

  Jason knew that he wouldn’t be able to face Anderson right now; he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to face him the same way ever again. He tiptoed the distance between the bathroom and his bedroom as quietly as he could, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot before slumping to the ground, head in his hands.

  He couldn’t let this change things. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t different like Anderson was. He’d grown up knowing who he was, knowing where he belonged and where he was supposed to go. This couldn’t change things.

  At that moment, slumped on the floor of his dark bedroom, Jason made a decision. He buried all his doubts and confusion in the corner of his mind, the place where they would never see the light of day ever again. He wouldn’t let them. Things would go on just as they had been.

  Chapter Six

  When Jason woke up the next morning, Anderson was already gone. Thankful for the small blessings in life, he slinked out of his bedroom to find something to fill his empty stomach, only for his eyes to catch on the bowl of popcorn he had left out on the counter the night before. He swallowed thickly, feeling a new wave of guilt wash over him.

  No––he couldn’t think like this. Nothing happened last night, and he had absolutely no reason to feel guilty. Reaching for an apple from the basket on the counter, he took a bite and chewed slowly, savoring the tangy taste with closed eyes. Anderson probably bought this apple; it hadn’t been there last time he’d checked.

  He opened his eyes, heart clenching in his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry anymore.

  Endeavoring to think about anything other than Anderson, Jason thought about Rebecca. Even before last night’s confusing events, he had scheduled a date with Rebecca for tonight; she was the perfect distraction.

  In the past three months of their relationship, Jason had realized that he and Rebecca had yet to go on a single real date like couples were supposed to. So tonight, unlike their usual hook-ups in an empty bedroom at a party or a tipsy group date in a greasy diner at 1 am, his plan’s with Rebecca involved an actual, formal, honest-to-god dinner date.

  It had been an impulsive, five word texted suggestion of wanna grab dinner w/me? suggestion on Jason’s part, but he wanted––needed––some sort of proof that the way he felt when he ate dinner with Anderson was something entirely different from how he would feel on a date with a pretty girl.

  Standing in front of the Italian restaurant they had decided on for the date and wringing his sweaty hands into the front of his dark blue cardigan, Jason was beginning to have second thoughts. Since when was going on a date with his freaking girlfriend supposed to be this nerve-wracking? He contemplated texting her and calling it off, but hearing the familiar click of heels on the pavement and turning to see the petite, dark-haired woman approaching him clad in a deep red cocktail dress that hugged her curves in a barely appropriate sort of way, he knew it was too late. There was no backing out now.

  “Jace, you’re here! Sorry I’m late. Did you wait long?” Rebecca’s said in her sweet, lilting voice, threading her hands through the crook of his elbow, pressing herself to him and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

  “No, you’re fine. I just got here myself,” he replied, his eyes traveling down to stare at the way the dress displayed the curve of her breasts before averting his gaze. “Okay, if you say so,” she said, gently brushing her fingers up the side of his neck and pressing another kiss to his lips, a promise of what was in store for him later.

  Rebecca’s tinkling laugh rang through the air once more, the laugh that said that she was fully aware of the effect that she was having on the people around her. Rebecca unlinked their arms and danced ahead of him, her hair flipping glossily over her shoulders and she looked back over her shoulder, smirking slightly. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for our reservation!”

  Then she turned and headed inside the building, her hips swaying seductively in her short, skin-tight outfit. Jason gulped, feeling more flustered than the situation should’ve permitted. She was definitely doing it on purpose.

  Following after the sound of Rebecca’s laughter, he couldn’t help but chuckle too; this was what a date was supposed to feel like.

  Dinner was a quiet affair. Rebecca wasn’t nearly as chatty as Anderson, instead preferring to give him long, suggestive glances over the rim of her wine glass, sliding her irresistibly smooth legs over his under their table. Jason took it better than he thought he would; it was surprisingly easy to shoot back equally provocative glances while his mind drifted to other things.

  Jason tried to convince himself that those other things were not supposed to involve visions of Anderson, carefully sculpted muscle
s displayed deliciously by that green cardigan from last week’s dinner, or the way he imagined the other would whimper and curl into the sheets submissively under Jason’s fingertips.

  Bringing his attention back to the unfairly beautiful woman in front of him was way more difficult than it should’ve been. Everyone knew she was attractive. Jason knew she was attractive. Hell, even Rebecca knew how attractive she was, and that only made her more so. “Are you alright?” she asked, momentarily breaking out of her flirty mood to give him a concerned look. Anderson gave him that same look when he worried, too.

  Jason smiled weakly at Rebecca’s questioning gaze. “I’m fine,” he said, downing his wine in one gulp, feeling it tingle as it ran down his throat. He wished that it could wash the stinging guilt that he felt away, too. He liked Rebecca; he shouldn’t disrespect her by comparing her to someone else while on a date. Especially if that someone else was a man. She didn’t deserve it. “It’s fine, Becca. I promise,” he repeated, reaching across the table to clasp her hand.

  Tonight, he was hers, and hers only.

  Chapter Seven

  It’d been two weeks since Jason had caught Anderson masturbating while saying his name. He could, without any doubts in his mind, now proudly admit that he was over it. It had taken a lot of self deprecation and avoiding the other like the plague, but he was finally over it.

  Of course, he wasn’t sure how standing in close proximity to Anderson might affect him, but he hadn’t really factored it into his plans before––but when he was assaulted by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his middle as soon as he stepped foot through the apartment door, Jason was pretty sure that any plans he could have made would’ve been useless anyway.