by Maxene Novak
“So you were just hanging out until something better came along, is that it?”
“You’re projecting,” Ruger had said impatiently. “I was always in it with you, one hundred percent, dammit. You know that! But I can’t live like this forever, with you in and out of everybody’s pockets and me chillin’ over here like I’m nothing. I want what I’ve always wanted, Colt, I’m just sick of pretending it’s going to happen.”
“And what is that?”
“I want you to love me more than you fear yourself.”
Deafening silence filled the room. Colt’s face was completely unreadable, and Ruger wondered for a moment if he’d crossed a line. He’d spoken his truth, though, and that wasn’t something he was prepared to apologize for. He waited patiently for a response.
“Do you think I don’t love you?” Colt asked finally, his voice breaking.
“I think you want to think that you do,” Ruger said sadly. “I’m just not sure you know how.”
“I do,” Colt said earnestly. “You’re a part of me, always have been.”
“I need proof,” Ruger had said.
Colt crossed the room in three strides and took Ruger into his arms, crushing his mouth with his own. Ruger pushed him away.
“No!” Ruger shouted. “Not that, not sex. You give that away like it’s fucking candy, Colt, I need something real!”
“Dammit, Ruger, it’s all I have to give you.”
“It’s all you’re willing to give me,” Ruger said.
Unshed tears stung his eyes and he turned his back to Colt. Colt’s arms were around him in a heartbeat, his forehead pressed against the nape of Ruger’s neck.
“I’d give you the world if I could,” Colt whispered.
“You’re all the world I want, and you can’t give that to me,” Ruger choked out.
“Please. Please, Ruger, take what I can give you. Just for tonight.”
“It’s not enough,” Ruger whispered.
“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Then we had sex, like you wanted, and I left.”
“You still think you had it right back then, don’t you?” Colt asked quietly. “That I was using you. That I was sleeping with all those girls.”
“Well you were,” Ruger snapped. The old heartbreak felt fresh again, and it was making him angry.
“Couple things,” Colt said. “First, I was twenty-two. I was still depending on my dad for room and board, and you know how he felt about them gays. I took those girls out to shut him up. I never slept with any of them, never even kissed them. We talked about this back then.”
“Yeah, but you can’t expect me to believe it,” Ruger said.
“I did. Back then, I absolutely did expect you to believe it, because I never once lied to you. Not one time, Ruger.”
“You lied to everybody else,” Ruger said accusingly.
“Yeah, about one thing! And as soon as I moved out of my dad’s place, guess what.”
“What?”
“I came out. I went to a therapist, got my head on straight because I was still screwed up from you leaving like that, and the very next date I went on was with a dude. You know why? Because the therapist pointed out that the only reason I lost you was because I’d been afraid to claim you openly. She was right. So I outed myself. I didn’t make a big deal about it, because it wasn’t a big deal. I’m bi. That’s my orientation, it isn’t who I am. My dad got wind of it, and hasn’t spoken to me since, but it’s whatever. At that point I was primed and ready for rejection.”
“Hold on,” Ruger interrupted. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re fucking lying to me, again!”
“About what?” Colt threw his hands up, exasperated.
“You have a reputation around here, Colt, a reputation that I heard repeated dozens of times within a month of being back in town. ‘Every girl gets with Colt. You aren’t a woman until you’ve been with Colt.’ You’ve been screwing every female in town, how can you pretend that you’re out of the closet?”
Colt sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m aware that I’ve become some kind of initiation into womanhood. That was not by design, it just kind of happened. But do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because girls around here think that if they sleep with the bi guy that makes them some kind of sexual goddess. Because it makes them feel like they turned me. The only reason I have the reputation I do is because I’m outed, Ruger. Not because I’m not. They think I’m unique or some shit, and they throw themselves at me.”
“You think that’s a good enough excuse for being the town fuckboy?”
“No, but it explains why women I don’t even know claim to have been with me. The rumor got out of control, quickly. Suddenly everybody had been with me. I’ve been out with maybe a dozen people since you left, most of them right away. I was burying you under meaningless relationships. I outgrew the need.”
Ruger felt the world begin to slide out from under him. This wasn’t right. He’d clung to his anger for so long that having it challenged like this was making him lightheaded. “So you weren’t sleeping with a bunch of girls when we were together?”
“Nope.”
“And you haven’t bedded hundreds of women since I left.”
“Nope again.”
“And I’ve been angry about nothing this whole time.”
“Not quite nothing,” Colt admitted. “You were absolutely right about one thing. I should have claimed you publicly when I had the chance. Biggest regret of my life was asking you to wait.”
His words soothed a hurt in his heart that Ruger had nearly forgotten was there. It felt as though a weight had fallen off of him, tearing his walls down with it. Tears began to form in his eyes and he turned his back to Colt. He wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. He wanted to hold on to his anger for just a little longer.
But he couldn’t seem to manage it.
Chapter Nine
“I’m sorry,” Ruger said quietly.
“Me too.”
Too many feelings. There were too many emotions swirling around in Ruger’s gut, and he couldn’t seem to catch any of them. He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore. Earlier that morning, he’d wanted to snatch Belle out from under Colt the way he’d threatened to snatch Bethany away all those years ago. But he really did like Belle. Above and beyond revenge, he wanted to know her.
Then here was Colt. As open and easy as he’d always been. Ruger had just been too angry to see it. Six years he’d been hanging onto that fury, using it to fuel his explorations, using it to justify his actions. He’d been an asshole, and that wasn’t something that was easy for him to swallow. He’d always felt like the victim. He’d embodied that hurt, made it a part of his personality. That rejection of him as a person and as a lover had created a shell around his heart; a shell that seemed to be crumbling even as he tried to pick up the pieces.
“So what do we do now?” he asked, mostly to himself.
“Now, we box up your stuff and get you moved into the cottage,” Colt said pragmatically.
Ruger laughed bitterly. “How do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Have a big emotional blow out and get right back to reality?”
Colt shrugged. “Because emotions are reality. We feel what we need to feel, then we do what we need to do. Emotions don’t cause problems. Suppressing and projecting emotions do.”
“Learn that from your therapist?”
“Nah, just from life. You… you’ve spent the last six years doing stuff, experiencing new things. I spent the last six years stewing in my own emotional turmoil. Eventually, you were going to have to feel something, and I was going to have to stop feeling long enough to get my life together. I think I managed it pretty well. How ‘bout you?”
“I don’t like this feeling,” Ruger said, shaking his head. “It’s not fun.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t imagine it would be. Think of it like
a purge.”
“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all this.”
“What do you want to do?” Colt asked.
Good question. Ruger looked at Colt, and it was as if he was seeing him for the first time. His brown hair, cut close to his head, so different from how he wore it in school. His dark eyes, accented by thin lines, precursors to wrinkles. Combined with his low brow, they gave him the appearance of always laughing at something he was concerned about. It would have been a ridiculous juxtaposition on anybody else, but on him it just looked warm. Comfortable. His frame had filled out to pleasing proportions since their youth; broad, muscular shoulders and a thick chest had blossomed from the crouched, skinny frame. Ruger hadn’t been so fortunate, but he was happy with the way he looked.
Mostly he registered Colt’s mouth and hands. His mouth looked just as soft and firm as it had back in the day, back when they were all over each other behind locked doors. His hands were stronger now than they’d been back then. Ruger wondered what they’d feel like tangled with his. His mind wandered, playing out other scenarios where strong hands and soft lips would come into play. He grew hard, unexpectedly and unintentionally, and snapped back to reality. Colt was looking at him expectantly.
“Part of me wants to give this apartment a proper farewell in the bedroom,” he said bluntly. “And part of me wants to go seduce Belle. Mostly I just want to feel better.”
He watched light flicker in Colt’s eyes, and wondered if he shouldn’t have phrased that differently.
“Would you be alright with a hug?” Colt asked.
Ruger nodded, responding instinctively before he’d had a chance to think it through. He was too raw to think. Too lost to play the situation to meet his goals. He had no goals, not anymore. They’d been weak, crushed under the weight of truth, and he was left with nothing but the moment. It was freeing.
Colt pulled him into his arms and Ruger melted into his embrace. He inhaled Colt’s familiar scent and was transported back in time, back when they’d tangled together every night like two skinny, horny grasshoppers. He wrapped his arms tight around Colt’s thick core, reveling in the sensations. Then Colt’s lips pressed against his temple, and he was overwhelmed with need. He turned his head and met Colt’s lips with his own, drinking in the memory.
Colt kissed him back for a moment, then gently pushed him away.
“I’m sorry,” Ruger said quickly.
“Don’t be,” Colt said, his voice low and husky. “If that’s what you want, I’m willing. I just want to be sure.”
“I don’t know,” Ruger whispered.
His body knew. His body wanted it more than anything in the world. But his heart was still fragile and his mind was confused, and he couldn’t be sure about anything.
“Then we’ll wait,” Colt said gently. “It’s been a long time. Lots of crap to work through. Let’s take it slow, alright? Let’s start back at the beginning, as friends. Real friends, not this fake overly comfortable bullshit we’ve been fronting the last two years. Deal?”
“Deal.”
They shook on it.
“Alright. Ready to move?”
“Ready.”
It didn’t take too long. Ruger hadn’t rebuilt his material horde since he’d left to wander the country, and it only took one barely full truck to move his stuff over to the cottage. He wasn’t bringing any furniture, since every room at the cottage was still furnished. So with nothing but a few bags of clothes, several boxes of books, a couple of electronics, and his ancient stuffed bear from his childhood, Ruger moved his life half a block over and half a block down.
Belle was still where they’d left her. She was on her laptop, scrolling through classifieds.
“Looking for a new place already?” Ruger teased.
“Oh yes, gotta run screaming from the big ugly man who is so mean to me,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Ruger laughed. “So what are you doing?” he asked.
“Looking at the classes they offer for adults over at the high school. You would not believe how boring being broken is when you’ve spent every waking hour of your entire life training. I’m about ready to pull my hair out.”
“I bet,” Ruger said sympathetically.
“I thought you’d be enjoying your vacation,” Colt said with a grin.
She gave him a look, and it made him laugh.
“No, I totally get it,” he said. “I’ve been working and learning since kindergarten, if I was forced to stop now I might just die instead.”
“Thought about it,” she said absently, still scanning the screen.
Ruger and Colt shared a worried look.
“Is, ah… that something I should be watching for?” Ruger asked gently.
“Hmm? Oh! No,” she laughed. “I decided after I woke up from surgery that it wasn’t an option. But, I mean, I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t play around with the idea. When you make something your whole life, and then that thing is taken from you, you kind of feel empty. Lost. Like you’re somewhere you aren’t supposed to be, and eventually somebody’s going to notice.”
The way she phrased that hit uncomfortably close to home for Ruger. He saw the same discomfort reflected on Colt’s face.
“Well then, as long as you’re okay now,” he said quickly. “Come on Colt, let’s unload.”
Ruger was moved in more quickly than he’d imagined, and was well on his way to being completely unpacked when Colt reminded him that he’d been offered food and drink in exchange for his assistance.
“Yeah, yeah, what do you want?” Ruger asked playfully.
“Can’t do pizza two days in a row,” Colt said thoughtfully.
“Why not?”
“I’m an old man, boyo, another pizza right now and I’ll hate myself for a week.”
“I’m almost as old as you are and I still have mountain dew in my morning bowl of captain crunch,” Ruger teased.
“Yeah, well, not all of us were blessed with your freaky metabolism. How about Chinese?”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get Belle’s order, you see if the beast wants us to throw anything into her cave.”
“Right, put me in the line of fire,” Colt said, shoving him gently.
The brief contact made Ruger’s brain all fuzzy again. “Just go,” he huffed.
Colt grinned cockily and walked away.
“Hey, Belle, we’re getting Chinese, you want anything?”
“Uhh… chicken chow mein?” she said hesitantly.
“You don’t sound very sure of yourself,” Ruger commented.
“I don’t eat fast food very often. I think the last time I had Chinese food I was twelve.”
“Oh wow! Why?”
“Gotta watch my figure. I did, anyway. Everything I ate was fuel for training, everything was kept in perfect proportion. When I was twelve, it was a little different because I was in the middle of an insane growth spurt, but I still had to keep an eye on it. I guess now I’m free to devolve into a couch potato.”
She said it playfully, but she looked sad. Ruger crouched beside her and booped her nose.
“Hey,” he said gently. “If you do, you will be the most beautiful potato I’ve ever seen.”
Belle giggled. “Thanks,” she said, visibly brighter. “Maybe I’ll make that my new life’s work. To become the most beautiful potato in the world!”
“I’ll support you all the way,” he grinned.
She touched his face, and her cool, smooth fingers sent electricity through his body. All it took was one touch, and he was smitten.
“You’re good people, Ruger,” she told him.
“I try,” he said, but his mind wasn’t on his words.
He was focused on the perfect bow of her mouth. He leaned forward without thinking, and it was as if everything started happening in slow motion. She leaned toward him, her computer sliding off her lap. He caught it before it hit the ground, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him close. They we
re mere millimeters away from kissing, when…
“The beast says she wants five hundred crab rangoons, a bathtub of chow mein, and forty-seven pounds of mango chicken,” Colt said, coming into the room voice-first.
“Saved it!” Ruger said, jerking away from Belle.
She nearly tumbled off the couch, and he caught her too.
“Having trouble with gravity over here?” Colt asked.
“Just a bit,” Belle said, blushing.
A base level of frustration manifested in Ruger’s gut. That’s just the way it’s going to be today, he told himself. Unsatisfying interludes interrupted by pragmatism. Fine. He winked at Belle and turned his attention to Colt.
“So she wants the whole store, then?”
“I figure she’ll be satisfied with about half,” Colt said with a grin as he settled into an armchair.
Ruger called in the order. He was distracted, sitting there between the two people who could get his blood to boil with the slightest touch, and managed to order twice as much food as he’d intended. He shrugged it off. Might as well supplicate the raging beast within with some nice empty carbs.
Chapter Ten
Belle was slowly adjusting to Ruger living in the house. Seemed like she was adjusting to everything lately; a new home, new people, not working—it was a lot to take in. She dealt with it by watching too much TV and spending too much time on her computer. She’d taken up residence on the sofa; her bed was a challenge to get into and out of.
But Ruger made it easy. He had a morning ritual that soothed her. He’d get up in the morning, make coffee, offer her breakfast, make the breakfast, and then bustle around the house tidying up. It made her feel taken care of, in an adjacent kind of way. But being taken care of did nothing to ease her boredom, and by Monday night she was desperate for something to do. Ruger had come home from work, showered, and was sitting beside her on the couch looking for something to watch.
“What do you usually watch?” she asked.
Ruger grinned. “Anything with monsters,” he told her. “When I was gone… you’ve seen my car, right?”
