“I think I kind of like him, Dad. But he’s not really my type. Wait, actually, I think Rusty’s exactly my type—hot hipster bear. But I’m not his type. Well, he did try to kiss me once. I bet he tries to kiss all of his friends, though.”
His dad closed his eyes, and Niles squeezed his hand. “I know. I’m hopeless.”
Niles stayed at Honeydew Estates until it was time for dinner, which was never smooth with his father. Dad always fought the nurses a little, and Niles felt embarrassed anytime he was there, like he should be helping but didn’t know how.
After Dad’s first stroke, he’d moved into Honeydew Estates because it had been easier for him to get his rehab there. At the time, his prognosis had been good. Niles had been able to tell that his dad had known who he was, and had been able to track conversation and respond a little. Mostly he’d needed help with mobility. But the second stroke three weeks later had left him a shell of the man Niles knew. And all of Dad’s other health issues spiraled from there and were made worse by his stasis and bad reactions to medications.
The doctors had squashed Niles’s fantasy that his dad would ever get better. Victor always told him not to give up hope, that his dad was still young and strong and could come back from this. But Niles knew in his heart that he wouldn’t.
Niles had seen the defeat in his mother’s eyes, the day she had stopped fighting. That day the doctors had relayed the news that her brain cancer had spread to her spine like they were announcing the weather. And now Niles could hear it in his father’s deep sighs and confused distress. He didn’t want to fight anymore either, and Niles understood. He really did.
Niles kissed Dad’s cheek. “Love you, old man. See you soon.”
He headed home and made himself dinner in the kitchen that Mom had decorated with a rooster motif. Sometimes, after particularly hard days visiting his dad, all of the memories of his mom’s illness scrambled to the surface. He wasn’t sure why. The two experiences were so different.
Mom’s illness had been over in the blink of an eye, but it had changed the trajectory of his life. After Mom had died, Niles hadn’t wanted to be away from his dad. Hadn’t wanted to miss the chance to see his dad every day. He had been worried Dad would start eating frozen dinners or sign up for that Farmers Only dating website. Neither had happened, of course.
And Niles had stuck around, though he hadn’t been needed. He’d moved back in with Dad after college, got the job at the museum rather than going to graduate school, and the rest was history. Now the house was in his name, and he had the power of attorney over his dad’s estate. He hadn’t simply stuck around. He’d built a life, or attempted to.
But it was moments like this, sitting in a house he didn’t really know how to make into his home, when uncertainty overwhelmed him. He didn’t want to live in a relic of his parents’ life any longer, but he was so terrified that with any change he made, he would lose his parents a little bit more.
All his grief, his stasis, his insecurity—it built and built until it felt too big to overcome. It was like his feet were stuck in cement and he was too afraid to break free. One day, he’d look around and only see missed chances, like skipping grad school or rejecting Rusty or being too scared to redecorate the kitchen, and he’d be completely alone with nothing but memories and reruns of his favorite TV shows to keep him company.
That realization should have motivated him to make a change or take a chance, but all it did was paralyze him with fear.
It had been almost two weeks since Rusty met Niles, and tonight would be about the tenth time they’d gotten together to Netflix and Platonically Watch TV on the Couch.
But first, Rusty had to drop Margo off at Jackie’s, and Jackie had grown increasingly suspicious of him lately.
“Why are you in such a hurry to leave? Normally, I have to kick you out,” she asked with narrowed eyes when he tried to slip away without rousing her suspicions.
“I had a long day. Ready to crash,” he lied.
“You’ve become such an adult. You’re no fun anymore,” she teased. He grinned and made his escape.
He didn’t really want to tell her about Niles, as if her knowing about him would make this awkward friendship with Niles disappear. Like it was as fragile as spun sugar.
But he’d never lied to her before either. They were a team. Jackie had been the first person he’d told he was bisexual and the only person he’d cried to when Todd had broken up with him. He’d been there for her when their parents hadn’t supported her. When Margo’s dad had bailed. When she’d needed someone to love and encourage her. To believe in her. Rusty was that person. He would always be her person. And she was his.
But he still couldn’t tell her about Niles. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to examine their rocky friendship yet, so he lied and avoided Jackie at every turn.
Much like he was avoiding the pesky non-platonic feelings he was quickly developing for Niles.
Later that night, Rusty and Niles lounged on his couch and watched Battlestar Galactica, which he liked better than Firefly, a fact he’d never admit to Niles. Niles worshipped on the ground of Firefly fandom because Captain Mal was his man crush space cowboy.
But Rusty liked Battlestar Galactica better because it was long, and he’d get weeks of Niles time under the guise of watching a TV show together.
Normally, they sat on separate ends of the couch, watched a couple of episodes, and then talked for about an hour before Niles went home. And Rusty, embarrassingly enough, had gone from vaguely interested in screwing around with Niles to being a card-carrying member of the Niles Longfellow Crush Club. He might be the only member of that club, but he’d proudly be its president.
Rusty loved the way Niles sometimes stared at him, his dark brown eyes all wide and hungry and rimmed in black lashes. And Niles didn’t turn away anymore. No, he downright ogled Rusty until his every glance was like a lick of heat. Until Rusty didn’t think he’d be able to make it through another night without feeling Niles wrapped around him. But he’d never made another move. Though he was sure sometimes that Niles had wanted him to.
“You’re not close with your parents, right?” Niles asked after they’d watched one episode, and Rusty had to rip his gaze away from Niles’s hands, which he’d been clocking.
“Not really. Neither is Jackie.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s complicated, but mostly it has to do with Jackie getting pregnant. They were so ashamed and angry with her, like her having a kid out of wedlock was the worst thing to ever happen to them. It completely broke down my relationship with my mom and dad. We all fought for weeks. And it was always so strange to me that they cared that much. They weren’t particularly involved in our lives in the first place, you know?”
Niles shook his head, which made sense. After two weeks of hanging out, Rusty now knew all about Niles’s loving parents, one of whom he visited almost every day in a nursing home, which was sexy to Rusty for some inexplicable reason.
Kindness and devotion was attractive. Who knew?
“I guess it’s like this,” Rusty continued. “They both had other things going on. They didn’t come to my football games or concerts, and didn’t support any of Jackie’s many and varied interests. She changed her mind a lot, but still. They simply weren’t into their kids’ stuff. They weren’t into us. We were expected to be out of the house after we graduated high school, and they didn’t help with college. That’s their mindset. Once you’re eighteen, you’re on your own, but very few eighteen-year-olds have their shit figured out. I took out a ton of student loans and went to Oklahoma State. I was fine. But the lack of support—emotional or otherwise—did a number on Jackie. Then she got pregnant, and suddenly they were very concerned and very ugly about it. When she decided to move, I think it was as much to get away from them as it was Margo’s bio dad. And neither Jackie nor I have ever really recovered the relationship there. My parents ended up retiring to Scottsdale two years ago, and we talk on
the phone every couple weeks. So it’s not like some sob story. It is what it is.”
“That’s still sad,” Niles said timidly. He was excruciatingly cute when he was shy. “Do they know you’re gay?”
“I’m not gay. I’m bi, remember?”
“Right. I’m sorry,” Niles said with chagrin.
“My parents know I’m bi because we’re all Facebook friends and I’ve said things on there about being bisexual, but we’ve never explicitly discussed it and they’ve never met any of my boyfriends.”
“Tell me more about being bi. I mean, I like looking at women—I sometimes even watch straight porn—but I’m not sure I’d want to sleep with one of them.”
Rusty laughed a little uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he could talk about sex with Niles without, you know, wanting to have sex with Niles.
“Well, being turned on by straight porn doesn’t make you bi or straight or anything, just like being turned on by gay porn doesn’t make you gay. And being bisexual doesn’t mean you have orgies all the time, either, or cheat on your significant other. It’s not a ticket to screwing anything that moves.”
Niles reached over and placed his hand on Rusty’s forearm. “I know that, Rusty,” he said softly. Rusty took a deep breath, not sure why he was suddenly so worked up. Niles rubbed his thumb in a circle on Rusty’s arm, and all of Rusty’s discomfort over this conversation—talking about his parents, talking about being bi—morphed into something sweet and sharp.
“Anyway,” Rusty continued, “I like men and women, but I’ve never had a relationship with a woman. Not that I’ve had a ton of boyfriends either, but I have had a few. It’s not really intentional. I like sleeping with women, I’m attracted to women, but I’ve never had a romantic connection with one. Maybe it’ll happen one day.”
Niles glanced down and studied his hands, his brow furrowed. Rusty needed to change the subject, or he was going to want to comfort Niles, which was not a good idea.
“I’ve never had a romantic connection with anyone,” Niles whispered.
“What do you mean?” Rusty asked, his focus narrowing like a hawk, but Niles shook his head again.
Then Niles snapped the remote off the coffee table and pressed Play. Before Rusty could pause the show and force Niles to keep talking, make him explain why he was suddenly so sad, so closed off, Niles strode into the kitchen and started making popcorn in the air popper Rusty had never used until Niles had come along and made himself at home.
“Do you know Niles Longfellow?” Rusty asked Todd later that week while they ate lunch in Rusty’s office.
Todd was absorbed in his phone, probably sexting with his twinkie Tulsa boyfriend, but when Rusty threw a cherry tomato at him, he glanced up. “What?”
“Do you know Niles Longfellow?”
“Sure. We graduated together. Why? Wait! How do you know Niles Longfellow? Are you dating?”
“No, we’re not dating. We’re friends. He’s the one who organized for the choir to sing at the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Todd turned back to his phone. He was such a flake sometimes, but Rusty really did love the idiot. Though, he didn’t love him enough. Or not in the right way, maybe.
Their breakup had sucked for a lot of reasons. It had been especially painful to untangle Todd from his family life. Plus, because they worked together, Rusty had to see how happy Todd was with his new boyfriend every day. Rusty had struggled afterward, not because he’d missed his relationship with Todd, but because he’d suddenly found himself the proud owner of insecurity. Rusty had never been insecure about his weight or his sexual prowess or his romantic skills until Todd had broken up with him and promptly fallen into the ass of some guy who looked like a go-go dancer. Todd’s new boyfriend—Rusty should probably start calling him by his name, Mike, rather than new boyfriend—was younger, hotter, and more fun. Not exactly good for the ego.
But Rusty was happy for Todd.
Truly.
“Was Niles out in high school?” Rusty asked, interrupting Todd’s texting.
“I don’t know. I think everyone always knew he was gay, but he probably never said so. Is he out now? I’ve never seen him on Grindr.” Rusty rolled his eyes, and Todd grinned at him. “You have a crush, don’t you? Tell me everything. Here, I’ll share my pizza.”
Todd shoved his lunch at Rusty and took Rusty’s peanut butter sandwich out of his hands, as if giving Rusty delicious greasy food would get him to share secrets. And fuck, Todd was right on the money because Rusty took a dainty bite of pizza and told him everything.
“You need to invite him to the dress rehearsal,” Todd said, once Rusty had spilled his guts.
“Huh? Why?” Rusty asked. The dress rehearsal for the Fall Concert was the following Tuesday evening. The dress rehearsal was the only chance for his two different high school choir classes to practice their songs together before the concert. Last year he’d had a dress rehearsal for extra credit and had allowed each student two guests to make it feel like a cozy VIP concert; the students had loved it so he’d arranged to do the same this year.
“You are so smoking hot when you’re teaching,” Todd said. “He’ll be panting. Trust me.”
“You really think that’ll work?”
“Yeah. Especially if you sing. Like, find a reason to correct the kids during one of their songs. You know that won’t be hard. Their country drawls inevitably slip in and suddenly you have a choir of Alan Jacksons. And then you can break out some opera, in the guise of teaching, of course. He won’t be able to resist your voice. It’s …”
“It’s what?”
Todd clenched his teeth, making the muscle in his sharp jaw pop in and out several times. “Sexy,” he finally said.
“Oh.” Rusty grinned. “And Niles hearing my sexy voice will make him stop acting like a skittish cat, you think?”
Todd frowned, shrugged, and turned back to his phone. “You’re the one who knows him.”
“Well, you know him too. You grew up with him.”
“Not really.”
Todd now seemed totally enthralled by what was on his cell phone screen. He even swiveled a little in his chair so his back was to Rusty.
Evidently their conversation was over. Rusty rolled his eyes and finished his piece of pizza. It was typical of Todd to get wrapped up in himself.
But Todd’s mood swings didn’t prevent Rusty from thinking about his advice for the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t a bad idea, and Niles wanted to see the set before the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival anyway.
That evening, Rusty texted Niles an invite, and Niles responded with several happy emojis and some dialogue about the last episode of Battlestar Galactica they had watched. And Rusty smiled stupidly at his phone for way too long. He was as bad as Todd, except he wasn’t getting sexed up.
A part of Rusty, a small secretive part he would never share with anyone, thought he might like the nerdy TV show discussion more than he would a handful of nudes.
Every laugh, every conversation, every text message from Niles filled him with jitters and excitement. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, hadn’t had a crush for years, and nothing was better than riding that sweet wave of anticipation until he got to see Niles again.
Niles accepted the Skype video call from Victor as he was getting ready for the choir’s dress rehearsal.
“Hey, Vic! Hold on,” Niles said while he pulled a light green shirt out of his closet and over his bare torso. Victor whistled, but Niles ignored him. Victor liked gym bunnies, and Niles was definitely not one of those.
“Where you going dressed all twenty-first century?” Victor asked with a smirk after Niles had sat down on the bed in front of his laptop.
“The dress rehearsal for the high school choir’s Fall Concert. They’re singing at the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival in a couple weeks, so this is my chance to see their set. Have to make sure there’s nothing in it that Janice would deem ‘inapp
ropriate’ since we’re waiving their fee.”
“Well, you look nice,” Victor said, accusation heavy in his voice. Niles blushed and hoped Victor couldn’t see it. “I mailed you a present yesterday!”
Victor liked to send presents to Niles. Often they were raunchy or strange sex toys, but sometimes they were coloring books, so Niles didn’t complain. He did hide the sex toys so no one would ever find them, though, and kept the ones he liked in his bedside table.
“What is it?” Niles asked.
“Anal beads. They’re shaped like pineapples.”
Niles groaned and laughed at the same time. “Ow! You’re so strange.”
“You love it. Now tell me why you’re all dressed up.”
He considered lying about his clothes, not to mention pointing out that wearing dark jeans and a button-down was not that dressed up, but Niles didn’t lie to Victor. There was no point.
“I’m friends with the choir director—Rusty. We’ve been hanging out. Like, a lot.”
“You’re dating someone and you’re just now telling me!” Victor practically yelled.
“No! We’re not dating. We’re friends. Anyway, he’s really hot—he wouldn’t want to date me.”
Rusty had tried to kiss him once, but that had been before they’d known each other. Rusty had probably thought that Niles would be an easy lay. And, truth be told, Niles had been easy on the few occasions he’d let himself be a wild club kid, but he didn’t want to be that guy anymore—the one who slept with men too cool to talk to him in the daylight.
Not that Rusty would be that way. Or at least, Niles hoped he wouldn’t be. But he didn’t trust that almost-kiss, especially because Rusty hadn’t tried it again. He was almost over-respectful in the distance he kept from Niles now.
“That’s insane. You know that, right?” Victor said flatly. “I know a handful of assholes made you think you’re not worth anything, but you are, Niles. You have a good, steady job. You’re interesting. You’re funny. You have a nice home … You’re attractive.”
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