Shotgun

by Marie Sexton

  One achingly slow, gentle thrust at first. Testing himself and me. Almost a question.

  Then one more, nearly as slow as the first, but his thighs shook under my hands as he fought his urgency.

  The third thrust came faster, and on the fourth, he groaned, leaning forward, his fingers tightening around the back of my head. He kept his eyes closed, but I felt him shudder. I saw the moment his control broke, and the next instant, he was moving fast, panting hard, moaning loud, fucking my lips and mouth with a passion that made me weak. He threw his head back, tensing already, breathing my name, and only moments after it had begun, he came. He pushed in deep and held me there with both hands, his grip almost painful as he emptied himself into me. With other men, it might have upset me, but this wasn’t about him being macho or trying to force me into anything. He’d simply lost control, but he came back to himself the very next instant. He realized what he’d done and let me go, pulling away with a gasp.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I stood up, wiping my chin, smiling at him as I stood on my toes to kiss him. “See?” I said quietly. “It all seems really clear now, doesn’t it?”

  His laugh was hoarse. “I kind of think I should be mad at you.”

  “But you’re not?”

  “God, no.” He shivered and wrapped his arms around me. “How could I be?” He kissed my cheek and my chin but stopped before his lips touched mine. “Mostly I’m thinking I could have been a bit less selfish.”

  I smiled. “I don’t mind.” But even now, with his semen burning in my throat, I was unsure. I had to blink hard against the tightness behind my eyes. “Dom?”

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t desert me again.”

  He cupped my cheek in his hand and kissed me gently. “I won’t.”

  “I can hear the ‘but’ coming.”

  He sighed and rested his forehead against mine. “I don’t know about… this.”

  “The sex?”

  “Yes.”

  It was enough to make me grit my teeth in frustration, and yet I knew he was trying. And the most important thing was that he not abandon me again to loneliness and alcohol. As pathetic as it was, I needed him. It seemed only fair I grant him some flexibility.

  “I’ll follow your lead. I can be as available or as hands-off as you want. But what I can’t do is read your mind. And I can’t stand to have you ignore me.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough.” But despite having just said he wasn’t sure about sex, he didn’t pull away. On the contrary, he put his hand possessively on the nape of my neck and kissed me again. It was deep, yet soft and sweet and gentle. It spoke of something much more profound than lust. Something that harbored no confusion. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against my lips. “I know I’m a pain in the ass, and I know I’m making it harder than it needs to be. But I’ve been dreaming about this for fifteen years. And I promise you, I’ll do better.”

  I buried my face in his chest so he wouldn’t see my tears.

  At that moment, whatever I’d promised him seemed worth it.

  DOMINIC

  THE DRIVE home wasn’t long enough for me to thoroughly process what had happened at Lamar’s, and so I drove straight past my house, in search of some clarity.

  The cat of course had been Naomi’s idea, but I thought it was a good one. She and I both thought having an animal for company might help cheer Lamar up. It might make his house feel less like a jail. But I hadn’t counted on how my heart would thrill at the mere sight of him, or how seeing his face and hearing his voice would shatter my resolve. I certainly hadn’t counted on how easily he could break down my sexual inhibitions, or on how perfect I’d feel holding him and kissing him when it was over.

  Too perfect. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. Even afterward, as I pulled away to button my jeans, I’d felt nothing but peace, and before I left, I’d found myself inviting him over, using the Death Star as an excuse. He promised to stop by later in the afternoon. First, he said, he had to go out and buy supplies for Missy Prissy Pom-Pom Paw.

  It’d seemed like a sensible enough plan at the time, but now, as I studied my actions and feelings, I realized I was flirting with disaster. I couldn’t resist his advances. That much was clear. The minute he touched me, I was lost. I shivered at the memory of my recent orgasm, remembering how unbelievably good it felt to have his mouth on me, like a fantasy come true. A pleasing warmth pooled in my loins as I relived the joy of it. Already, I wanted to go back. I wanted to give in, beg for more, and lose myself completely in his soft, pale flesh. I wanted to spend the night with my arm draped over his back and wake up to his sweet blue eyes and his inviting smile.

  But I couldn’t.

  And yet, I couldn’t walk away from him, either. I couldn’t ignore him, as I had for the past two weeks. I might try to pretend my time spent with him was altruistic on my part, doing what I could to help him fight his depression, but in truth, I couldn’t bear to be away from him. I’d been miserable without his company. I liked being with him. And on top of everything else, I’d promised to be there for him.

  So where did that leave me?

  I knew Elena would encourage me to come out, but the thought caused my gut to clench with anxiety. I pictured my father’s disgust, Dimitri’s disappointment, and Naomi’s shock. After that, my brain spiraled into horrific scenarios involving my father contacting social services and reporting me as an unfit parent. A judge heartlessly siding with him and ordering Naomi be removed from my home. Naomi heartbroken, telling me she never wanted to see me again. Greg could be her daddy now.

  Overly dramatic, yes, but not so unrealistic that I could dismiss it entirely. And no matter what, Naomi came first. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my relationship with her.

  No, coming out wasn’t an option. And avoiding Lamar wasn’t an option. And given my helplessness against my own desire when I was with him, I was left with only one possibility: some kind of clandestine affair. A dirty secret to be kept from everybody I knew, with the possible exception of Elena. I tried to imagine how it would feel to wait anxiously for the nights when Naomi was at her mother’s so I could sneak over to Lamar’s for a quick tryst. I imagined hurried phone calls and hushed reassurances.

  The idea left me deflated. That wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want my time with him to be shadowed by guilt or secrecy. I didn’t want to hide.

  But I couldn’t love him openly either.

  I sighed, stuck in an endless loop of impossible choices. “What the hell am I going to do?” I asked the empty seat next to me.

  It didn’t answer. When I finally pulled into my driveway, I was as conflicted as I’d been when I’d left Lamar’s.

  By the time he arrived at my house two hours later, my unease had abated but only a bit. I still blushed when I opened the door. The memory of what had happened in his kitchen was hard to shake, but he’d promised to follow my lead. All I had to do was keep my hands to myself, and everything would be fine. Easy, even. We could be friends without ripping each other’s clothes off, and I wouldn’t have to worry about Naomi or my family.

  It was the right thing to do, I was sure. So why did the thought feel like shadows falling across my heart?

  “Did you get the cat settled?” I asked as I closed the door behind him.

  “I did. And I bought tea.” He shook a plastic grocery bag at me with obvious glee. “I found out at the pet store that the coffee shop downtown sells loose leaf. I found this great smoky Lapsang souchong, and I picked up some Irish breakfast tea too. I brought my own teapot because I wasn’t sure you’d have one. Do you want some?”

  I didn’t know the first thing about tea, but his enthusiasm made me smile. “Sure.”

  I took the Death Star out of the closet and began laying the packets of Legos on the table while he fussed with his tea. I figured he only had to boil water and drop in a bag, but this was far more intricate than that. He humm
ed to himself as he puttered around my kitchen, and I found myself smiling. It felt natural having him there. And more than anything, it was good to see him smiling. I remembered how down he’d been in the first week or two we’d spent together. I remembered the way he’d held me on Angelo’s porch, saying I was the only thing keeping him afloat, and the desperation in his eyes earlier, when he’d said he couldn’t bear for me to abandon him again, but I thought he was selling himself short. The fog of his depression was lifting on its own, whether he fully realized it or not.

  He placed two cups on the table and settled next to me. “That’s a hell of a lot of Legos.”

  He wasn’t lying. The little packages covered the table. “Isn’t it great? I hear some old man disabled the tractor beam, but it has a working trash compactor, perfect for crushing rebel scum.”

  He shook his head, smiling in bemusement. “I never would have figured you for a Star Wars geek.”

  “Elena was a big fan. I think she tricked me into it.”

  He buried his face in the instruction manual, and I had the distinct feeling I’d said something wrong. I took a sip of tea. It tasted pretty much like every other tea I’d ever had, but when he looked up at me expectantly, I said, “It’s good.”

  He smiled, and the awkwardness disappeared. For a while, we sorted packets of Legos, flipping through the instructions to see when we’d need each set. Finally, we began. I sifted through the pieces and handed them to him as he began to build.

  We were only on the fifth brick when he said quietly, “Will you tell me about your marriage?”

  “What about it?”

  He shrugged without looking up “I don’t know. Just… what it was like, I guess. It seems like you guys are still close.”

  “We are.”

  “That’s pretty unusual, isn’t it?”

  I debated, turning my nearly empty mug in circles on the table. “Elena and I were best friends all through junior high and high school. We spent hours on the phone and hung out together almost every weekend.”

  “But it wasn’t romantic?”

  “No. Never. She’d talk to me about boys and ask me about girls. But somewhere along the line, she figured out I was looking at the boys too, and I think after that, we became even closer.”

  “Did you date girls in high school?”

  His cheeks were red, but I didn’t blush as I answered. “A few. But it never felt right.” I hesitated, covering my awkwardness by hunting for the next few Legos. “Did you?”

  “Never.”

  “At all?”

  He grinned at me. “We’re talking about you right now.”

  I chuckled. “Fine. But your turn is coming.”

  “So you dated a few girls,” he prompted. “But not Elena?”

  “I don’t think it ever occurred to either of us. She was obsessed with this guy.” I clenched my hands in my lap, turning away from the dark path of those memories. I turned toward something bright. “And then, right before my senior year, I met this boy.”

  He glanced up, his expression curious yet guarded.

  “He was from out of town. Kind of preppy. Really cute, though,” I went on, trying not to smile too much. “Seemed really proper until we got away from the crowd, and then he started flirting with me. He practically threw himself at me.”

  A slow grin spread across his face. “And were those advances unwelcome?”

  “God, no. I think it’s fair to say he changed my life.”

  He ducked his head, although not before I saw how pleased he was.

  “But then,” I went on, “he was gone, and I was back to being the one gay kid in a small-town school.”

  His grin faded. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Not having been born in Coda? It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know, but….” He started to reach for my hand but stopped short. He bit his lip, seemingly debating whether or not to say more, but he decided against it. He waved his hand encouragingly at me instead. “Go on.”

  I considered my approach. I was tempted to tell him how bad it’d been for me. How much I’d missed him and longed for him, even though I’d hardly known him, because I’d sensed his strength and his conviction. Because I’d somehow known I could have faced anything, if only he was with me. But left alone, I hadn’t been able to do it. I’d fooled around a bit with Elena’s cousin Dave, but it had only made me realize how lonely I was. It had only solidified my surety that Lamar was the one I wanted.

  Of course, Lamar had been several states away, living his own life.

  But admitting all that made me feel like the lovesick fool I’d been. Besides, Lamar hadn’t asked about my feelings for him. He’d asked about my marriage.

  “Elena had a bad experience,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “The guy she thought she liked….”

  I broke off, unsure how to explain without sharing secrets that weren’t mine. But the timbre of my voice and the sudden tension in my jaw, shoulders, and neck must have given it away.

  “I think I get it,” he said softly. “You don’t need to divulge details.”

  I nodded. “Well, that was late in our senior year. And afterward, she had a really hard time trusting men.”

  “Except for you.”

  I nodded. “Except for me.” I faltered again, feeling my cheeks begin to burn. I stared down at the table rather than meet his eyes. He waited patiently for me to go on. “I couldn’t come out,” I said at last. “And she couldn’t stand to let another guy touch her.”

  “So she agreed to be your beard?”

  I shook my head, biting back my anger at the term and at his assumption. He’d made a logical leap. It wasn’t his fault it was wrong. “It wasn’t like that.”

  Again, he waited for me to continue.

  “We depended on each other for so much,” I said at last, finally meeting his eyes. I needed him to understand we hadn’t been lying. Not to anybody but ourselves, at any rate. “I think it was easy for us to convince ourselves it was more. I mean, we loved each other unconditionally, with all our hearts. Doesn’t the world tell us that’s what being in love is?”

  He hesitated, clearly unsure whether I expected an answer or not. “I guess. But what about the rest?” The stain of red spreading up his cheeks told me what he meant by “the rest.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to explain it other than to say we were young, and we were both curious and horny, and we trusted each other.” I shrugged, feeling the explanation was completely inadequate. “It only happened a couple of times, to be honest.” In fact, the overall lack of passion had been our first clue that we were pushing things beyond their natural bounds. “We realized we weren’t really in love, but….” The damage was already done.

  I mentally stomped those words into dust, hating myself for even allowing them to take form. I wouldn’t think of it as something negative. I couldn’t. Not when the result had been Naomi. “It was too late,” I said instead.

  “I don’t underst—” But then his eyes went wide. “Oh. She was already pregnant.”

  I nodded. I bought myself a few seconds by draining the last of the tea, which had gone cold. Bad luck and bad timing and bad judgment, and suddenly we were faced with a future neither of us had ever wanted. It had felt like the world was punishing us. But the answer had been simple. “Elena’s family is pretty staunchly Catholic.”

  “Shotgun wedding?” he asked quietly. I suspected he meant it lightly, but his smile was forced.

  “It would have been if we’d told our families, and we both knew it. So we did it ourselves. We figured we were already best friends, and with a baby on the way, why not get married and make the best of it? So we went to the courthouse and didn’t tell our families until it was done.”

  “I’m sorr—”

  “No,” I said firmly. “Don’t be sorry for me because I’m Naomi’s father.”

  He nodded, his expression contrite. “You’re right. I didn’t mean it
that way, but you’re right. It was a bad choice of words. I only meant….” He stopped, apparently trying to vocalize his thoughts but coming up blank. “I guess I don’t know what I meant.”

  But despite having snapped at him for it, I understood. My life hadn’t gone the way I wanted. Yes, I had Naomi now, and I wouldn’t have traded her for the world, but it didn’t change the fact that things had been rough back then. Elena and I had both cried when the test came back positive. Our first thought had been an abortion, but we’d balked. We’d spoken in harsh tones of “the baby,” as if the fetus growing in Elena’s womb was an abomination we dared not name. But as the weeks wore on, and Elena’s body started to change, “the baby” became “our baby.” And then one day, Elena placed my hand on her belly, and I’d felt the roll of her flesh against my palm as our baby moved inside her, and my whole life had shifted. My entire existence had spun into a new alignment, with my daughter at its center, and I refused to regret it. I couldn’t imagine my life without Naomi.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude,” Lamar said.

  “You didn’t.”

  He squirmed, clearly unconvinced. He bent over the Legos in front of him for a moment, leaving me to contemplate everything I’d divulged. I thought back to the first night we’d spent playing with Legos, when I’d asked him about his own obvious baggage.

  And as if reading my mind, he spoke without looking up at me. “I was seeing a married man.”

  “Oh.” The confession was so completely out of the blue, I wasn’t sure how to react. “In Dallas, you mean?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know he was married. Not at first. And then once I found out, he kept promising he’d leave her. He said their marriage was basically over anyway.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  He shook his head. “That was just his way of keeping me on the line.”

  His words sparked something in me. Some small sputtering flame I couldn’t quite identify. Not anger. Not embarrassment for his predicament. Something that made me feel small.