by Megan Hart
“He’s called you like, a million times. This isn’t a guy who’s going away, Alex.”
Alex hunched his shoulders before forcing himself to sit up straight. He dragged his fork through the eggs and bacon on his plate, stabbing another bite but not taking it. He shook his head.
“So. What about her? Anne.”
“I thought it would be fun. Jamie said she wanted to be with two guys. It wasn’t the first time I’d ever been into something a little off-center that way. If anything, it felt like a great way to spend the summer. Getting laid. You know? That was all it was supposed to be.”
“But it wasn’t?”
Alex shook his head. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with her. She belongs to Jamie.”
“You think anyone can ever really belong to someone else? That surprises me. I didn’t figure you for the possessive sort.” Luke ate another bite of sloppy breakfast, chewing with a small sound of appreciation that turned Alex toward him.
Alex was, as he’d told Luke, totally capable of being faithful when he wanted to be. He’d also been the other man more than once, so it was obvious he didn’t have some medieval idea about romantic ownership, not that Luke would know any of that. “It was different with them.”
“Because you love him. And you fell in love with her. The three of you couldn’t just work it out?”
“No!” Alex recoiled.
Luke didn’t look offended at the vehemence of his answer. “Why?”
“Because…” Alex coughed into his fist, reluctant to put any of this into words. He’d spent so long trying not to think about it at all. He pictured his feelings as being buried under mounds of garbage, Luke handing him a shovel. He was going to have to dig, and hard, to get to the bottom. It was going to smell horrible. It might make him sick. No. It would definitely make him sick.
“You love her?”
“Yes. Shit. Yes. I do, I love her,” Alex answered in a strained voice. “But I’m no good for anyone else.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Luke put a hand on Alex’s shoulder, turning him on the bar stool so they faced each other.
Alex looked into Luke’s eyes. “Because it’s the truth.”
“You know one of the first things you said to me was that you weren’t ashamed of who you are. That you weren’t going to be the rationale for my self-hatred. But you hate yourself a lot, man. I don’t know why, but you do.” They’d both slid into sweatpants for breakfast but remained shirtless. Luke’s fingers squeezed gently before sliding down Alex’s bare arm.
Alex’s skin goosepimpled under the touch. He had no answer, but then Luke had made a statement, not asked a question.
“I don’t want to lose him.”
“You were okay with losing her? Even though you love her?”
“It wouldn’t have worked out for me and her, not in the long term. Not the way it started. I couldn’t hurt Jamie that way. I gave her up, so I wouldn’t have to lose him.”
Luke nodded slowly. “But you’re going to, Alex, unless you can at least face him.”
When Alex didn’t answer him, Luke leaned to kiss him on the mouth. He tasted of butter and jam, bacon and coffee. The kiss was brief, but sweet. When Luke moved to pull back, Alex grabbed his bicep and held it. They kissed again, harder this time.
Still kissing, the two of them got off the barstools and managed to get to the bedroom. With both wearing only Luke’s sweatpants, it was easy to get naked. Luke took Alex’s stiffening cock in his hand, still kissing him. The other went to the small of Alex’s back. Their bodies met, hard cocks pressing between them.
Luke broke the kiss to slide his teeth along Alex’s jaw, earning a moan. Then along his throat. He nipped lightly at Alex’s collarbones and dipped lower to sample one nipple, then the other. All the while, his hand stroked, stroked, palming the head of Alex’s cock. Moving down to his balls, then up the shaft again.
“Fuck,” Luke said as he drew his fingertip over the swollen head of Alex’s prick to capture the silver bead of fluid gathered there. He tucked it into his mouth with a smile.
The sight of that grin sent a flood of arousal through Alex, fierce enough to surprise him. Yeah, he was into Luke’s body, and the fucking they’d already done had been good enough for him to want more of it. But there was more here, whether Alex was willing to admit it or not, and the sensual way Luke tasted him was part of that. It was an intimacy he hadn’t felt for a while, and although Alex was a fan of the one-night stand, there was no denying that sex usually got better with familiarity and friendship.
On the bed, Luke moved between Alex’s thighs. He took the thickness of Alex’s dick into his mouth, sucking gently and adding a flick of his tongue along the underside of the head. Fuck, that felt good, and once again, Alex was letting himself get lost inside the wonderful glow of sexual arousal. Desire could and would push away everything else, until it was all he had to think about and nothing else.
He ran his hand over Luke’s head, seeking to dig his fingers into Luke’s hair, but of course he’d forgotten that it was too short. Alex satisfied himself with twisting his fingers into the bedsheets, instead. He lifted his hips, thrusting into the savory heat of Luke’s mouth. At the exploratory probe of Luke’s finger against his asshole, though, Alex tensed.
“No?” Luke paused to murmur.
“It’s fine. Just wasn’t expecting it.”
“I’ve never done it,” Luke said after a second. “I’ll do my best.”
Alex pushed onto his elbows to look down at the other man. “Lube. Lots of lube. And take your time.”
“Got it.” Luke laughed and grabbed a bottle of lube from under the bed. That explained why Alex hadn’t found it when he was looking for the condoms.
Alex lay back, closing his eyes. He was usually the one in charge, even if he was the one being done to instead of doing. He relaxed again into the pleasure.
Luke’s slick finger pushed inside him, slowly. It wasn’t hitting him exactly right, not at first, but the mouth action on his cock was working just fine. Then Luke shifted his hand a little and yes, oh fuck.
“There,” Alex gasped hoarsely. “Yeah. Fuck. Right there. Like that.”
“Like this?” Luke curled his finger, pressing firmly against that magic spot.
“Yes.” Alex rocked his hips.
The pleasure rose, up and up. Luke hadn’t quite mastered the blowjob or ringing the back doorbell, but he was making a valiant effort at both. It was good and getting better. When the orgasm came, it was fast. Hard. Powerful. Alex cried out with it, a harsh, gravelled gasp that became a moan. Panting, he arched and fell back on the bed. Spent.
He’d had a shit night’s sleep and an orgasm. Add that to a belly full of breakfast, and there was no real option. He was going to be the worst kind of inconsiderate lover and fall asleep without reciprocating.
As he did, Alex was only half-aware of Luke moving up beside him to pull the sheets over them both. They didn’t spoon, but Luke’s big hand rested on Alex’s naked hip. Their feet touched.
“You wouldn’t have nothing left,” Luke said, and then Alex was out.
Chapter 12
Alex woke, thank God not to screaming this time, but to the smell of something good and the sound of a country music song on low volume. He didn’t listen to much country, but he supposed he didn’t have to be familiar with the artist or the song to know what it was about. Cheating lover, broken heart, big ol’ truck. It seemed pretty standard.
Luke turned from the small stove as Alex padded from the bedroom on bare feet. He’d dressed in his own clothes. He settled himself onto a bar stool.
“I’m making burgers. Hope that’s okay?”
“All we’ve done today is eat and fuck,” Alex said. “But hell yeah. I love a good burger.”
He yawned and stretched and watched Luke work at the stove. The other guy had dressed in a pair of baggy jeans, a gray t-shirt, a flannel overtop it. He flipped the burgers and slid them onto
a plate, then pulled a pan of fries out of the oven and set them on a trivet to cool. He added a couple cheese slices to the meat and handed Alex a bag of rolls.
“It’s not gourmet, but I was starving. I wasn’t sure when you were going to wake up.”
Alex didn’t have his phone handy — it was still over there on the coffee table. He looked for a clock but couldn’t find one. “What time is it?”
“Close to two.” Luke took a seat next to him and started to load his burger with condiments. “I have to go to work in a couple hours. You can stay here if you want to.”
“Nah. I’ll head back to my hotel.” Alex eyed the burger before biting it. It was good, and he realized he, too, was starving.
“You sure?” Luke’s voice had taken on a forced casual tone. “I’ll be back by eleven-thirty. That’s not too late.”
Alex bit, chewed, swallowed. He wiped his mouth with a paper napkin Luke had put out. “I’m not going to hang around your apartment while you’re at work, man. That’s a little too much, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t think so, or else I wouldn’t have offered. I thought maybe you’d like being able to spread out a little, that’s all.” Luke now sounded stiff.
“Nah. I’m good.” Alex kept his own tone light and casual.
Neither of them looked at each other.
When he’d finished eating, Alex took his plate and Luke’s, too, to the sink. He washed the pan Luke had used to make the burgers. He could feel Luke watching him, but didn’t turn.
“You don’t have to do that,” Luke said.
Alex shrugged. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
The barstool scraped as Luke pushed it back. He went into the bathroom. The shower came on. Alex finished doing the dishes, but left them in the drainer since he didn’t know where they went, and he wasn’t about to dig around in Luke’s cupboards. By the time Luke got out of the bathroom, Alex had gathered his things.
“I’m just going to get out of here,” he said. He needed a shower and a toothbrush. More than that, he needed to be alone.
Luke nodded. “Fine.”
It wasn’t fine. Alex could tell that from the guy’s expression and the way he sounded, and fuck, why did it always have to get like this? Complicated?
Alex turned. “I’ve known James Kinney since we were dumbfuck kids. He’s the only person in my whole fucking miserable life who ever made me feel like I was worth a goddamned thing…until Anne.”
Luke said nothing.
“I used to think Jamie would be the only person who could ever made me understand what it was like to love someone. Then he invited me to stay with them for the summer. He invited me to be with his wife. Not to fuck her. Everything but that.” Alex let out low, coughing laugh that hurt his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. The words spilled out of him, hot and bitter as bile. “But you know what, man? It wasn’t about whether or not I was allowed to put my cock inside her pussy. Because we did fuck. Just the once. At the end. By then it was too late. I was leaving. I had to go. I had to leave them both, because I couldn’t figure out a way that any of it could ever work. Not long term. I wasn’t supposed to be real, you know? I was something Jamie wanted and couldn’t have, so he offered me to her as a way to somehow, some way, maybe just…taste it. Just fucking taste it, for a little while.”
A grinding sob broke free of Alex’s throat. He tried to stifle it, but it was like swallowing barbed wire. Tearing. He swore he could taste blood.
“I’ve loved him from the first time I saw him in his fucking pink alligator shirt with the collar up. I loved him even when he punched me in the face and called me a fucking fairy faggot queer, when we went through a glass coffee table together. When I took him to the ER.” Alex’s fists clenched, his muscles tensing at the awful memory. He looked at Luke, whose expression had twisted in dismay. “I loved him, and then I loved her. And I hate him for that. I fucking hate that motherfucker for giving me just a little taste, for just a little while.”
Luke advanced a step or two, like he meant to take Alex into his arms. Alex backed up, hands in front of him. He didn’t want to be hugged or touched or stroked or soothed. He wanted to get out of this apartment, away from Luke, back to his sterile hotel room where he could be alone and force all of this away.
“I’m going to go,” Alex said.
Luke nodded hesitantly, looking warily hopeful. “Will you call me? Can I call you?”
“No.”
“Jesus, you’re hard,” Luke said.
“You barely know me,” Alex told him bluntly. “We fucked. We had a good time. That’s all this is or all it ever was. I’m glad to have been part of your journey or whatever the fuck you’re about to say, but that’s all.”
Luke recoiled like Alex had punched him in the face. He didn’t say anything, but what could there be to say, really? Alex put his hand on the doorknob. He waited, but only half a minute, for Luke to call after him and was relieved when all that followed him was silence.
Chapter 13
There was no epiphany. No moment of clarity. Jamie had simply worn him down. Alex had agreed to meet him in a hotel room at the Philadelphia airport, where James would be flying in for one night.
Alex hadn’t asked where Anne would be.
He had considered getting drunk or stoned before heading over, but in the end had decided he didn’t want to be impaired while facing Jamie. That might mean Alex was finally getting to be a grownup. It might mean he leaned a little more toward the masochistic end of the spectrum. Either way, Alex showed up to Jamie’s room sober.
He knocked. The door opened at once, like Jamie had been standing behind it, waiting. They both stood there in silence for a few seconds. The look on Jamie’s face — hope, desperation, a little fear, twisted Alex’s heart into his throat. Jamie stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.
“Hey, man.” Jamie moved as though he meant to hug Alex, but held back so obviously it was like a forcefield had brought him up short.
Once, Jamie wouldn’t have hesitated to embrace him. It made Alex feel like shit, and he knew it was all his fault. He reached for Jamie. Just a hand, ready to pull it back if Jamie didn’t take it. Jamie did.
Their hands clasped, grasped. Alex tugged. Jamie moved toward him. They hugged, hard, a bro hug for sure, minus the back-slapping. It softened after a few seconds. Jamie buried his face against Alex’s neck.
Alex held him.
Only that, not wanting to let go, not wanting Jamie to let go, either. Dampness on his neck. Jamie’s tears.
Alex clung tighter, a hand stroking over Jamie’s hair, then cupping the back of his neck. He whispered, “Don’t, please. Don’t.”
Jamie pulled away to look at him. “I’m sorry, man. I’m so fucking sorry—”
“Don’t,” Alex said again. “You don’t have to be sorry. Okay?”
“But it’s my fault everything got so fucked up,” Jamie insisted. “I should never have set it all up. I should never have asked you to fuck her —”
Fuck her. Like that’s all it had been, something base and somehow shameful, something without meaning. Aside from the very real fact that actually fucking her had been the one thing James had forbidden them, it turned Alex’s stomach to think of his time with Anne in that way. Meaningless.
“Don’t,” Alex repeated sharply, his tone far different than it had been even a minute before.
“I shouldn’t have told her it was okay to meet you that last time,” Jamie persisted, but something in Alex’s expression finally stopped him.
Alex couldn’t tell Jamie that he loved her. That last day in the Sandusky hotel, Anne had come to him with a purpose and reasons of her own, and Alex had done everything she asked of him except tell her that he would stay.
Jamie had given his permission for it, his blessing, and now he regretted it. But Alex didn’t and never could, because he could never wish away that love. He could pray for it to go away,
not that he believed in any kind of god that would grant that request, but he could never wish that he’d never had it.
“What do you want? Why are you here?” Alex demanded.
Jamie kissed him.
Surprised, Alex opened to the sudden embrace. Jamie’s hands moved to the small of Alex’s back, pulling him closer. Their mouths opened. Tongues tangled and stroked. Their teeth clashed, jarring. Not their first kiss, but the first in a long, long time, and maybe the last.
When Jamie pulled away, his face was flushed. Alex didn’t think he’d been drinking, but he recognized his best friend’s expression. That edge of belligerence. It was the same as it had been that night so many years ago, back home in Sandusky. The night before Alex had left for Singapore.
Alex took a step back, his heart aching. He clenched his fists, feeling sweaty palms and twitching fingers. He didn’t want to fight Jamie again. Not ever again.
“Don’t leave.” Jamie said this warningly, although Alex hadn’t made so much as a glance toward the door.
“I’m not leaving.”
Jamie let out a sigh. “Good. That’s good.”
Alex wiped his hand over his mouth, still damp from his best friend’s kiss. “If you came here to fuck me —”
“No,” Jamie interrupted, adding in a lower voice, “I mean, not only that. No.”
“What, then?” Alex asked, wary and hating himself for being disappointed. Going to bed with Jamie would be one more mistake in a long, long line of the ones he’d made, but there’d always been something there between them and always would.
“I miss you, man. I miss talking to you. I miss seeing you. I want you in my life, even if…” Jamie cleared his throat and cut his gaze from Alex. He put his hand on the back of his neck and turned away, going to the window to look out. “Look, we can just forget what happened over the summer. Okay?”
“I can’t do that.” He would never be able to forget it, any of it.
