And then Rusty kissed him.
It was so tender, so soft, that Niles couldn’t hold back his whimper. This kiss was everything he’d wanted when he’d caught a Lyft and showed up at Rusty’s doorstep. And the way Rusty cupped his cheeks and kissed him deeply—it was everything he’d miss when Rusty threw him out.
Oh fuck. Rusty had promised himself he wouldn’t kiss Niles. It was his petty form of revenge, which made him a total asshole, but there it was. He hadn’t been able to help himself, though, not after Niles’s sex-addled admission of love, not when Niles seemed like he’d break apart if something didn’t ground him right that very minute. Rusty couldn’t hold himself back.
And now Niles’s legs were wrapped around his hips and Rusty’s hands were deep in Niles’s hair and neither of them seemed to be coming up for air anytime soon.
So good. So. Good.
Rusty had always loved how Niles kissed. He was so open and unconsciously earnest about it, like he wasn’t quite sure if he was doing it right but liked it too much to care. Niles’s slick, mobile tongue in his mouth was the best feeling in the world, and Rusty never wanted it to end.
God, how was he ever going to let Niles go?
He sucked on Niles’s upper lip, enjoying the hungry way Niles responded, the flexing of his legs around Rusty’s waist and the sharp sting of his fingernails digging into Rusty’s back.
Rusty rolled them onto their sides, and Niles whined when he began to draw back.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rusty whispered against Niles’s lips, all of his anger finally leeching out in one big cleansing wave. He kissed Niles’s cheek and then trailed his lips to his ear.
“No, it’s not okay! Stop saying that. I’m so embarrassed. It’s not okay.” Niles buried his forehead in Rusty’s neck.
“It is, though. It’s going to be okay.”
Niles leaned back and peered at him, his eyes full of hope and despair. “Yeah?”
Rusty rubbed a thumb over Niles’s swollen bottom lip. “I promise. Now let’s get cleaned up. Then we can talk. Or sleep. Or watch some Netflix. Whatever you want.” Niles nodded, and Rusty kissed him again, chastely. “You should shower first.”
Niles crawled out of bed and grabbed his clothes before shutting himself in the bathroom.
Oh fuck, this was a disaster.
Rusty rubbed his hands over his face and sat up in bed. This was a complete catastrophe, and he had no one to blame but himself.
He had no right to suck Niles back into his fucked-up orbit, not if he wasn’t sticking around. Not when Niles needed someone solid and present. And it didn’t matter how much he wanted Niles. It didn’t matter that Bison Hills seemed infinitely brighter and better with the prospect of Niles in his life. He’d already made his decision.
He couldn’t change his mind simply because he and Niles had once again started up their messy cycle of screwing around and then icing each other out. Because, if nothing else, he’d learned they were amazing at reiterating that cycle, and it was bad for both of them.
His heart rate soared and his body flushed with sweat. He was such a horrible person. Niles had opened himself up to him. Niles had allowed him to see all his vulnerable, soft, unprotected places, and how was Rusty going to repay him?
By leaving.
A couple of minutes later, Niles reappeared in his doorway wearing his black briefs and an undershirt. His wet hair stuck to his neck and cheekbones, and he looked sweet and warm and sexed out.
Rusty gathered up his pajamas and made his way toward the bathroom. At the last second, he turned back around and grabbed Niles’s hand.
“Please don’t leave,” Rusty whispered.
Niles swallowed hard and bit his lip. “I promise,” he murmured, and Rusty squeezed his hand.
When Rusty got out of the shower, Niles was on the couch, still only wearing a shirt and undies, with his sexy bare legs all curled up around him. Rusty’s heart raced like it wanted to escape his chest.
“Want to talk or do you want to watch Battlestar Galactica? I haven’t watched any since we broke up,” he said.
“I haven’t watched any without you either,” Niles said, his voice small. “Show first, then talk?”
Rusty made himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch, but then Niles crawled over until he was lying on Rusty’s chest. This contact between them was not a good idea, but Rusty didn’t have the heart to turn Niles away yet, not when he was surely feeling extra vulnerable. If Rusty had accidently exclaimed the L-word during sex, he would have needed reassurance too. So he let Niles cuddle into his chest, their legs tangling together, and then he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over their bodies.
The episodes they watched were sad, and they hit Rusty harder than normal. Ultimately, Battlestar Galactica was a lost-in-space odyssey, but it was also about searching and finding a home. It was about those moments when you were the most unsettled and directionless. It was about that relentless, in-between, drifting phase of the search.
And Rusty didn’t know where his home was anymore either. For the first time in years, he wasn’t sure where he belonged.
Self-loathing like he’d never experienced before reached up and choked him. He wasn’t doing either of them any favors by letting their magnetic connection pull them back together, and he needed to stop it before he hurt Niles irreparably.
He had to tell Niles he was moving. He couldn’t let this impulsive episode change his plans.
He probably should have told Niles before he let Niles blow him.
So, yeah. This was a disaster.
And now they were fucking snuggling.
He wasn’t surprised when Niles fell asleep during the third episode. It was well after 3 a.m. after all. He ran his fingers through Niles’s hair, and Niles nuzzled deeper into his chest.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
Niles snorted a little, and Rusty chuckled.
“Don’t wanna move,” Niles said groggily.
“Well, I can’t sleep with you smooshing me into the couch either,” Rusty joked. They both laughed, and Niles pressed a sloppy kiss to Rusty’s jaw. Rusty’s stomach dropped again. “No. Baby, don’t.”
Niles froze, caught, like a fox in a trap. “Oh. No kissing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s all right.” Niles sat up, clambered to the opposite end of the couch, and dropped his head into his hands. Rusty missed his heat and weight immediately.
“Niles, I should have told you this earlier, but I’m moving once the school year is over. My sister is opening a salon in Sapulpa with a friend, and I’m going to follow as soon as I can.”
“How far away is Sapulpa?” Niles asked, his voice thin and forced.
“A little over an hour.”
“When did this happen? When did you decide to move?”
Rusty’s chest hurt. This sucked. He sucked. “I’ve known Jackie and Margo might be moving since before we hooked up at your house. You know, with the prostate massager?” Niles nodded and made a small pained sigh in his throat. “But it wasn’t a sure thing, and I hadn’t decided I would move too until recently.”
“Okay, but … still … you should have … I wish you’d told—”
“I’m so sorry. I should have told you that before all of … this.” Rusty gestured awkwardly between him and Niles.
“No. It’s fine. It didn’t mean anything, right? You don’t owe me an explanation. We were just getting it out of our systems. Hate sex, I guess.”
“Oh, man, I don’t hate you.”
Niles’s lips tensed, like he was trying to smile. “I know. You’re too good to hate someone you sleep with.”
Rusty swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He wasn’t too good. It hadn’t been hate sex, but it had certainly been angry, at least on his part. The simple fact was, if Rusty weren’t moving, he’d probably be begging Niles back into his bed and his life. Again.
The evening had been perfect, and h
e wanted as many more as he could possibly get. But that wasn’t fair to Niles. Niles deserved someone who would stick around, especially with the upheaval of his father’s illness in his life. And Rusty didn’t want to do the long-distance thing. He didn’t trust Niles not to bail the minute it got hard.
“I’m sorry I got scared, Rusty. I’m sorry I’m such an insecure loser all the time, and I know you don’t want … this anymore.” Now it was Niles’s turn to gesture between their bodies. Rusty clocked Niles’s long, naked legs and mourned the loss of this. “But can we be friends?”
“You’re not a loser.” Rusty took a deep breath, scared to meet Niles’s eye.
“Thanks.” Niles laughed a little wryly. “So no to the friends thing, then? Good to know.” He stood up and glanced around wildly. “I really wish I had put pants on for this conversation.”
Rusty clutched Niles’s hand. “I do want to be friends. But I’m not sure we can be friends like we were before. Maybe rather than being Netflix-late-at-night friends we could be grab-a-beer friends, you know? Public friends.”
Niles gripped Rusty’s hand tightly. “You don’t want to be alone with me.”
It wasn’t about want. Rusty very much wanted to be alone with Niles all the time. But he couldn’t be alone with Niles. All he’d do was break each of their hearts. Rusty wouldn’t be able to stay away from him, and that wasn’t fair to either of them.
“What do you say?” Rusty asked.
“Could we watch Battlestar Galactica separately and then talk about it when we get these public beers together? Kind of like a book club, but with TV.”
“Of course, gorgeous. We’ll have to finish the series before I move.”
“Right.” Niles withdrew his hand from Rusty’s. “I should call for a ride.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to get a Lyft this late?”
Niles’s breath suddenly came faster, and panic filled his eyes. He glanced around the apartment as if searching for an escape route. “Shit. I don’t know.”
Oh geez, Rusty had royally fucked this up.
“Let me drive you. Grab your pants, and we can go now.”
“Okay, sure.” Niles took a step toward the bedroom and then he turned back. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
The words made Rusty sick to his stomach.
For the next week, Niles tried to distract himself from his major fail at seduction. Which was inaccurate really; his seduction had gone pretty swimmingly. He’d never felt like that while getting fucked, like he had been drugged with sensation and Rusty had been as close to him as humanly possible. Like they had shared a heartbeat.
It had been the aftermath that blew. Just thinking about it made Niles want to bury his head in a flowerbed.
Niles had never been particularly good at reading other people’s signals, but he’d been sure the moment Rusty had kissed him that everything was going to be okay between them. He had been positive that the kiss meant something other than wow, orgasm!
How wrong he’d been.
Rusty still wanted nothing to do with him. He was leaving, and despite only being a two-lane highway and a couple of truck stops away, he’d made it clear he didn’t want to contemplate being together. Niles deserved the dismissal. He knew that. He’d run away when it had been imperative for him to stick around. He’d bailed rather than listen to Rusty explain. But it still hurt.
At least Rusty was speaking to him again. They’d been trying to make plans to hang out, publicly, but they couldn’t get their schedules to line up. He hadn’t realized how hard Rusty’s silence had been until it was gone, until Rusty was actually responding to his texts. But their messed-up relationship was a little like a limb regaining feeling after falling asleep—the moment between losing sensation and gaining it back was the most painful. This pseudo-friendship of theirs was stuck in that aching in-between time, and all it did was highlight what was missing. Still, Niles would take a few text messages over nothing.
After work on Tuesday, Niles visited his dad. He’d gotten a call the night before that his dad had developed a cough and low-grade temperature, and that they would be monitoring him for signs of bronchitis, strep, and upper respiratory infection. Niles could read between the lines though. They were worried about pneumonia, which was a constant threat for stroke victims, especially ones with aphasia or impaired swallowing mechanisms. Niles’s father had severe aphasia, but his swallow testing had always come back with positive results. He wasn’t on a ventilator, so hopefully his chances of pneumonia were limited.
When Niles entered his father’s room, his dad wasn’t in his chair, but instead was lying back in his hospital-style bed. His eyes were closed and his skin sallow. Niles’s heart clenched in fear, but he swallowed it down.
Since his dad was asleep, Niles sat next to him and watched. They’d already served dinner, so he had almost an hour of uninterrupted time with his father.
Sometimes being at Honeydew Estates got to him. Suddenly, it would stop feeling like a considerably nice nursing care facility, and instead feel like the choking, toxic, depressed waiting room of a hospital. All of the visitors he saw at Honeydew Estates were waiting. Waiting for their loved ones to get better. Waiting for them to pass away.
And the smells. God. Niles had been forced to buy lavender-scented disinfectant wipes for home because the lemon ones reminded him too much of this place. Then there was that sickly sweet metallic smell that haunted him at night when it seemed to be stuck on his skin and in his nose. He couldn’t figure out the cause of the scent, but it permeated everything.
Tonight, the walls of his father’s room were closing in on him, his father’s illness was closing in on him. And he just wanted it to be over. To be done.
That thought reverberated in his head like a gong, and a sob almost choked him. He couldn’t believe he was so selfish. He wasn’t the one suffering. He wasn’t the man stuck in a tiny room with only a couple of blankets, a picture of his late wife, and a recliner to make it feel like home. He wasn’t the one who couldn’t speak and didn’t recognize his own son.
Niles was … the witness. And he’d bear witness because it was inconceivable to him not to. He didn’t want to miss a single second with his father if he could help it.
So he swallowed his discomfort. He choked down his anger and his resentment. And he held his father’s hand until the sun set and the shadows consumed the room.
When Niles got home, he sat at the dusty old upright at the back of the living room. He hadn’t touched the piano since his mom had died. As far as he knew, no one had played it but Rusty. It simply existed as a relic of his mother’s life. She hadn’t been particularly good at playing it, but she’d been able to read music and she’d enjoyed plunking away at show tunes or songs in the hymnal. One of Niles’s earliest memories was singing Christmas carols with his parents at the piano.
The top of it had turned into a catch-all for Niles’s mail, so he stacked it into two neat piles. He lifted up the fallboard, laid his fingers on the keys, and timidly pressed down.
It sounded horrendous, but that was likely due to him playing all the keys at once. He tried one key in the middle of the keyboard.
Nope. That sounded pretty bad too—all tinny and flat.
He should probably pay to get it tuned. But, then again—why?
All the piano did was collect dust and mail. Maybe he should sell it on Craigslist along with the other furniture. Victor was flying in on Friday. Hopefully, he would know what to do with a thirty-year-old piano.
Niles certainly wasn’t going to play it, and it wasn’t like his dad would ever come home to enjoy it either. And he didn’t have anyone in his life who knew how to play piano besides Rusty. For a few moments, Niles allowed himself to imagine Rusty sitting down at the piano after a day at work, playing old country music or that Frank Ocean song he was always humming.
But that was never going to happen. Rusty had made that clear.
A week after their doo
med hookup, Rusty was determined to have that beer with Niles, though neither of them seemed particularly excited about it. They needed to get it over with so they could normalize this shit show and move on. Until they saw each other, their weird night of sex and disappointment would hang over them forever.
Earlier in the week, Rusty had texted Niles to see if he wanted to meet after dinner for a drink, but Niles had been visiting his dad. On Wednesday, Niles had asked Rusty if he wanted to get coffee when school let out but before Niles went to Honeydew Estates, but Rusty had already invited Margo and Jackie over for dinner.
Finally, after school on Friday, Rusty texted Niles: Want to get that beer tonight? I binged three episodes last night and we need to discuss.
Watching Battlestar Galactica without Niles had been torture. He’d missed the comfort of Niles’s presence.
I haven’t caught up yet, Niles replied with a sad face emoji.
And that hurt a little too. Realizing that he’d moved on without Niles brought its own kind of pain. Maybe Niles didn’t really want to see him again, even as friends. Rusty couldn’t blame him.
We could still get a couple drinks, Rusty texted back.
Vic is here.
A strange jealousy rushed through Rusty. He’d never been envious of Niles’s friendship with Victor. It had never seemed like there was anything romantic between them, but Victor did send Niles sex toys. So there must be a level of intimacy between them that Rusty would never reach with Niles now.
He can come too.
It took Niles forever to respond, but when he did, Rusty dropped his phone.
You could invite Todd. Make it a party.
The thought of being at a table with Niles, Niles’s best friend, and Todd was honestly a nightmare. Rusty had a hard time imagining three people he would rather not hang out with together, but what the hell? It was already going to suck. Why not pour some hot water on it and watch it sizzle?
Rusty arrived at O’Donnell Ducks at the same time as Todd. Things had been awkward between them since the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival. Todd had alternated between being decidedly cold to Rusty about moving, or talking about how much he’d miss him. Rusty’s decision to follow his sister to Sapulpa didn’t only affect him. Todd would have a new supervisor at work. He’d have to navigate the school system as the only out faculty member. And Todd would be losing a large chunk of his support system. His parents might play at being supportive, but Rusty and Jackie had always been the people Todd could most depend on, breakup or not.
Life on Pause Page 18
