Pounding Skin

by L. A. Witt

  Troy walked into the café right on time, and the sight of him startled Matt. He didn’t look like himself anymore. Still good-looking, but older than he should have been. More exhausted. He had that look about him that people got after spending eight hours in a cubicle. Kind of weathered. Almost palpably counting down until Friday at five. Or Saturday, apparently.

  His eyes lit up, though—kind of—when he saw Matt. The halfhearted response probably wasn’t because of his workday fatigue, either. Things hadn’t exactly been relaxed between them since Troy had moved out of their shared apartment. They were friends on social media, and interacted there from time to time, but how many years had it been since they’d actually been in the same room?

  When Troy was close enough, Matt saw that his eyes were hazel. Edging toward green right now, but now he remembered seeing them turn brownish and even gray depending on Troy’s mood. He wouldn’t forget that detail again.

  They shook hands and sat on opposite sides of the small table. Matt smiled. “It’s good to see you. Been too long.”

  “It’s been a while.” Troy studied him, then asked dryly, “So is this your New Year’s resolution? Reconnecting with people?”

  Matt couldn’t hold the smile anymore. Or eye contact, for that matter. He stared at the table as heat rushed into his cheeks. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk about.”

  “Oh. Okay?”

  He hadn’t expected to cut right to the chase, but it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise. Troy had never been big on small talk or beating around the bush.

  Matt cleared his throat. “I need to ask you about when we lived together. Specifically, about when you moved out.”

  Troy bristled. “What about it?”

  “I . . .” Matt chewed his lip. “I guess I never really understood why.”

  “And now it matters for some reason?” The defensiveness was hard to read. He wasn’t necessarily hostile toward the topic, but he wasn’t exactly inviting Matt in either.

  “I think it mattered back then, but I was too stupid to notice.”

  That put a slight crack in Troy’s defenses. He shifted slightly, avoiding Matt’s gaze. “Well, to be honest, I couldn’t afford to move out of our place. I barely scraped by for months until I finally had to break down and move back home.”

  Matt swallowed. “Then why did you leave? Or, why didn’t you come back?”

  Troy kept his eyes down. “I couldn’t live with you anymore, Matt.”

  The words smacked him in the chest. “What? Why not?”

  His old friend was quiet for a moment, but finally looked across the table at him. “I couldn’t deal with the mixed messages.”

  “The mixed—” Matt blinked.

  “Look, I wanted you back then.” Troy exhaled hard. “I wanted you bad. And sometimes I thought you felt the same way.”

  Matt’s instinctive defense—“I’m not gay!”—made it as far as the tip of his tongue. Yeah, it was true. He wasn’t gay. But he wasn’t even close to straight. By now there was a Matt-shaped indentation in Jon’s mattress that left absolutely no doubt that his face wouldn’t be appearing in the dictionary under the word “heterosexual.”

  Back then, though, he hadn’t felt a thing toward men.

  Had he?

  He moistened his lips. “What made you think I did?”

  Troy’s cheeks darkened, and he dropped his gaze again. “I don’t even know. Just . . . a vibe, I guess? Sometimes the way you’d look at me, or . . . I don’t know. You were so different from other straight guys, and sometimes I guess the wishful thinking got the best of me.” He struggled, but met Matt’s gaze. “I wanted it to mean you felt something for me. And sometimes, you’d look at me or say something, and I’d get my hopes up.” He sighed, deflating. “But then someone would rattle your cage about being queer, and your hackles would go up. Don’t get me wrong—I understand why you were defensive, but sometimes it felt like a slap in the face. Especially when you said it like nothing could possibly be worse than someone thinking you were like me.”

  “God, I’m sorry.” Matt sighed. “I . . . never thought about how that might sound to you.”

  “I figured. And I know how straight guys are sometimes. I told myself I could ignore it, and I mostly did.” He lowered his gaze. “Right up until . . .” His cheeks colored, and he chewed his lip.

  Matt sat up. “Right up until what?”

  Troy was silent for a long, long time. Finally, he pulled in a deep breath. “Until the time we both got drunk and spent half the night making out.”

  Matt’s heart dropped. “Come again?”

  Troy gave a snort of bitter laughter. “I figured you wouldn’t remember. You were shitfaced.”

  “I . . .” Matt gulped. “No, I . . . I don’t remember.” That was impossible. Someone as gorgeous as Troy—he’d have remembered that. And a man? Back when he was that deep in the closet? Didn’t really seem like something he could forget even if he wanted to. “When did that happen?”

  Troy avoided his gaze. His lips were pulled tight. In fact, all his features were taut, and when he swallowed, it looked like it took work. “It was a party over at Andi Kennedy’s place.” He met Matt’s eyes. “You remember her, right?”

  Matt nodded. And now he was racking his brain, running through everything he could remember of the parties they’d gone to at her place. Andi had thrown some legendary parties, and it hadn’t been that unusual for Matt to wake up the next morning wondering how he’d made it back to his bed. Or how he’d wound up between two naked and obviously satisfied sorority sisters in a house across town. To say the least, there were some significant gaps in his memories from that period.

  Troy went on. “I don’t even remember how it got started. I think I was almost as trashed as you were. I just remember going outside to get another beer out of the cooler. It was super dark, and you were there, and suddenly we were making out behind the toolshed.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yeah. That’s . . . that’s kind of what I thought in the moment.” Troy shifted, cheeks darkening even more, and looked anywhere but right at Matt. “Then you, uh, put a hand under my shirt, and everything kind of stopped. And that was when I realized you thought I was a girl.”

  Matt’s mouth went dry. “So we stopped after that?”

  “No.” Troy’s gaze shifted so suddenly, meeting Matt’s, that Matt jumped. “That’s the thing. You kind of paused for a second, and then you were just insatiable. I mean, you were all over me, Matt.”

  A blurry memory flashed through Matt’s brain.

  “Lemme suck your dick.”

  Slurred.

  Male. Very male.

  Troy.

  With that piece in place, the rest of it started to come into focus. When his hand had slid up over a chest that was the wrong shape to be a woman’s. When he’d realized that wasn’t a wallet in her front pocket, but instead an erection pressing back against his own. The surge of arousal. The breathless kissing. The hand kneading the front of his pants. The memories were still fuzzy around the edges and hazy in the middle, and he was probably filling in blanks left by the booze, but . . . oh yeah, that had happened. Definitely.

  He leaned back hard in his chair. “Holy shit. I do remember.”

  “You do?”

  Matt nodded. “I mean, it’s vague, but . . .” But we made out. You offered to suck my dick. And . . . after that . . . He drummed his nails on the table. “How far did we go?”

  Troy shrugged. “That’s about it. A little groping, but I think we were both too drunk to go any further than that anyway.”

  “Wow.” Matt rolled the faint memory around in his head for a moment, then shook himself. “And that’s why things got weird between us?”

  “Yeah.” Bitterness and sadness both laced the edges of Troy’s tone. “Turned out the only thing worse than being someone you didn’t want was being someone you only wanted when you were too drunk to care what anyone else thought.”r />
  The words hit Matt’s gut like a balled up fist. “Oh my God. I . . . Jesus. I never meant to hurt you like that, Troy. Honestly.”

  “I know you didn’t. I figured you must’ve been so deep in the closet you could see Narnia, and I guess I just couldn’t . . .” Troy exhaled. “I don’t even know. But after that, you were still flying the hetero flag and wouldn’t give me a second look.” He absently drummed his nails on the table. “The next time I heard you tell someone you weren’t gay, and you said it like it was the biggest insult in the world, I realize I just couldn’t live in the same house anymore.”

  Matt’s stomach did backflips. “Jesus. I am really sorry for that. All of it.”

  “I know.” Troy cocked his head. “What’s brought all this up all of a sudden anyway?”

  “Well, the thing is . . .” Matt hesitated, staring into his coffee. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

  “You’re always seeing someone,” Troy said dryly. “You’re the king of serial monogamy.”

  “Okay, fair.” Matt pulled in a breath and looked at Troy. “But his name is Jon.”

  Troy’s mouth fell open. “Seriously?”

  Warmth rushed into Matt’s cheeks. “Seriously.”

  “Holy crap.” Troy laughed. “I can’t believe you have a boyfriend.”

  “Yeah. Me neither.” Matt tried to laugh, but it fell flat, and he sighed. “I mean . . . sort of.”

  “Sort of? What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s not . . . I mean, we’re not . . .” Matt paused to search for the words. “We fuck a lot. We spend all our spare time together. But it’s just, you know, casual.” Funny—he’d been saying that from the start, but now it felt about as natural and truthful as “I’m not gay.” What the hell?

  Troy smiled at him. “I’m glad to see you figured it out and you found someone.”

  “Me too. What about you? You seeing anyone?”

  The smile turned a little shy, and Troy blushed.

  Matt grinned. “Come on. Tell me about him.”

  As Troy told him about the boyfriend he’d recently shacked up with, and the conversation wandered to jobs and families and mutual friends, Matt couldn’t help feeling a little bit sad. He was happy with Jon, but he hated the way things had turned out with Troy. He’d regretted a lot of things in his life, and he could add “blew it with Troy” to that list. There was no telling if they’d have worked as a couple. They could’ve dated for a few months, had some massive blowup, and never spoken again. After all, neither of them had been terribly mature during their stint as roommates, and they’d both left a few relationships in smoldering ruins during that time.

  Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if they could have made things work. If he’d been open-minded enough about himself to realize what an amazing man had been right there in the bedroom across the hall.

  But in the end, his “I’m not gay” mantra had hurt Troy, not to mention himself. It had cost him a shot at an amazing guy.

  But somehow he’d figured it out in time to keep Jon from slipping through his fingers, so there was that. Better late than never.

  * * *

  Since Jon was still understandably busy on Sunday, Matt had some more time on his hands. The planets seemed to be aligning in his favor these days, though, and Lisa was free to meet up. In fact, when he walked into their usual coffee shop, she was already in line.

  “Hey you,” he said. “Since when do you show up early?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but stopped, looked him up and down, and raised her eyebrows. “Wow.”

  He cocked his head. “What?”

  A huge grin spread across her lips. “Somebody’s on cloud nine.”

  “What?” Matt laughed as he hugged her hello. “What are you talking about?” How do you know?

  As she let him go, she met his gaze. “Sweetie, you’ve been stressed and depressed for the last year or two. But I swear you’re practically glowing.”

  “Well.” He sighed dramatically. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but . . . I’m pregnant.”

  Lisa burst out laughing and gave his arm a playful smack. “You’re an idiot. And as soon as I have my coffee, you’re going to tell me everything.”

  Matt chuckled. The line was short, so they didn’t have to wait long to acquire their coffee and a couple of pastries. Finding a table was a challenge since it was a weekend, but they scored one tucked way in the back, mostly camouflaged by an oversized plant.

  Once they were seated and Lisa had finished polluting her coffee with seven varieties of sweetener and some hazelnut creamer, she took a sip, put her cup down, and looked at him. “So. Spill it. Why are you smiling like a fool today, Mr. Huffman?”

  He laughed, stirring a much more reasonable amount of sugar into his own coffee. “Well, you remember that guy I hooked up with? The pilot?”

  “The one you stupidly told you didn’t want to hook up again?”

  “Yeah. That one.”

  She quirked her lips. “I’m guessing you got back in touch with him, and you’re still with him?”

  He nodded.

  “Ooh!” She was practically wiggling with glee. “Tell me, tell me. I want all the details.”

  “Lisa.” He rolled his eyes. “If I give you all the details, then that’ll spoil the sex tape.”

  “Is there really going to be—”

  “No.”

  “Son of a bitch. Fine. All the other details.”

  “Okay.” He laughed, folding his arms on the edge of the table. “He’s just . . . God, he’s amazing. Not just in bed, either.”

  “But to be clear, he is amazing in bed?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Good. Go on.”

  “Okay, so we’re . . .” Matt trailed off, not sure how to explain this thing he had with Jon. “It’s not serious. I mean, he doesn’t want anything like a relationship, but . . .” He sighed. “The more I think about it, the more it kind of feels like we’re already in one, you know?”

  “Because you spend every unoccupied moment together, have lots of amazing sex, and you think about him constantly?”

  “That, and I’m completely relaxed around him, he always seems like he’s happy to see me, and . . .” Matt shivered. “God. You’re going to think this sounds stupid.”

  “Can’t imagine it’s any worse than anything else you’ve ever said.”

  “You know what?” He flipped her off. Then they both erupted into laughter.

  “All right, all right. Seriously.” She studied him. “Come on. Whatever it is, I want to hear it.”

  He hesitated. “It’s kind of ridiculous, but . . .” He took a breath. “On New Year’s, you know how it’s tradition to kiss someone at midnight?”

  She grinned like she was barely suppressing a squeal of delight. “Uh-huh . . . ?”

  “When everyone was counting down, and making sure they had somebody next to them so they could kiss, I was standing by him. And . . .” His whole body tingled just thinking about it. “Lisa, the way he looked at me . . .”

  “Like, how?”

  His eyes lost focus as he replayed that moment for the thousandth time since New Year’s. Finally, he met her gaze. “I can’t even describe it, but no one has ever looked at me like that before. Like . . . I was the only person in the world.”

  She finally let that squeal go and grabbed his hands. “Oh my God! That’s adorable!”

  He laughed, and admittedly he was kind of relieved. It had sounded really dumb in his head, but maybe there was something to it after all. Maybe he wasn’t such an idiot for getting that fluttery feeling in his chest every time he remembered that long look they’d shared right before Jon had—a few seconds ahead of midnight—kissed him.

  He sobered a bit as he sipped his coffee.

  She apparently noticed, too. “So, what’s wrong? Seems like something’s bothering you about this whole thing.”

  “Kind of, yeah.” He wrapped both hands around his coffee cup
. “I guess I keep going back to trying to figure out what we’re doing, you know? We’ve been saying all along that we’re totally fuck buddies and nothing else. Except . . .”

  “Except it feels like you are something else.”

  “Yeah.” He stared into his coffee. “Saying this is just sex feels about as right as saying I’m straight.”

  “Whoa.”

  He sighed. “We’re obviously long past that point now. And what we’re doing is great. I just don’t know what to call it, if that makes sense.”

  “Yeah, it does. And relationships always feel weird when they’re in that limbo state where you can’t quite define them.” She brought her coffee up, but stopped short of her lips and set it back down again. “It’s hard, but the best thing right now is probably to just go with it. If it feels right, why question it?”

  “Isn’t communicating supposed to be important?”

  “Of course. But maybe this thing needs to grow a bit before either of you are ready to slap a label on it. If you’re happy, and he’s happy, and everything is cruising along, it won’t hurt anything to let it ride for a little while. I’m not saying wait until your tenth anniversary to give it a name, but you’ve only been seeing him, what, a few months?”

  “Since about September, yeah.”

  “So it’s still young.” She shrugged, and this time, got the coffee cup to her lips and took a sip. “Quit trying to define it, and just enjoy it.”

  He mulled it over, and couldn’t think of a single argument against it. Sure, he wanted to know what it was, and if Jon felt the same, but it was hard to imagine he didn’t feel something. With as close as they’d been lately, after New Year’s, after all the time they’d spent together—there was definitely something here.

  But Lisa was right. It didn’t need a name yet. And as squirrely as Jon was about relationships, maybe letting it ride for now was for the best approach.