Whatever Comes First

by M. K. Lee

  "All you need to know is that we're good. It's good."

  "So you've done the deed?" She says, leaning in and winking at him, and Matthew wants to whine in pity for himself at her teasing.

  "Of course we have. It's getting on for five months since—"

  "I meant, the actual deed," she insists, still grinning and making Matthew sigh impatiently.

  "You do know the actual deed means all number of things," he begins telling her, then grimaces at the very vulgar gesture she's now making with her fingers.

  "I meant of the penetrative kind."

  "Still—"

  "I mean I'm happy to hear about all of the things you've been doing to each other," Sarah leans to whisper in his ear, and now Matthew's the one slumping forward with his forehead hitting her shoulder. When he doesn't answer she nudges against him, and again, and again, until he lifts his head up, suddenly furious. "What?"

  "Tell me—"

  "No," Matthew sits back, slightly stunned at himself for the anger behind it, immediately reaching for her in apology. Sarah's eyes widen for a second but then she's beaming at him, squeezing his fingers where they still grip around his arm.

  "You've told me about all kinds of things you've done, Matt. All kinds of things. With everyone. Sometimes in very specific detail," she points out, slow as though she's trying to make him understand something crucial.

  "Yeah," Matthew admits, "well not this time. It's different. It's... I'm different. I don't feel right talking about stuff with Joel like that."

  "Because you care about him," Sarah concludes, her expression a strange mix of soft and excited for him.

  "No, I—I mean sure I do. He's great. And I think we're... we're really, really good as we are—"

  "But you're really falling for him. Aren't you?" She asks, pressing for more confirmation and searching all over his face for it even if he won't say it out loud. "You are. Matt, you are—or you already have."

  "No," Matthew protests, wincing at how half-hearted it sounds, how hard he's finding covering this up. "No, it's not like that for us. We're just... we're having fun. Good fun; there's nothing more to it."

  "You're worried about admitting it because you're worried he doesn't feel the same."

  If anyone is going to sum up Matthew's thoughts so concisely for him it's Sarah, who knows him better than anyone. Which doesn't mean he won't continue to try and deny it, but Sarah's sorrowful smile back at him tells him she knows. Matthew holds still for another minute then falls forward again, groaning into the crook of her neck and sighing as her hand threads through the hair at the back of his head in affection.

  "Oh honey," she begins, turning her head to press a kiss to the side of his and sighing there. "He's... I don't know what you're worried about, Matt. I get the impression from the few times I've seen him on my own and the messages we send each other—and just from knowing him from as a kid. He's good, Matt. You know he is."

  "Yeah," Matthew's nodding easily at that because it's so easy to admit to that, if nothing else. "He is. He's good. He's kind, he's... he's really good at his job. Good with money, generous, loves his family, his friends—"

  "Lets you fuck him—"

  "Sarah—" Matthew barks, pushing back from her, prickly and uncomfortable with that line of teasing even more so after his sort-of confession. Sarah's eyes widen for a second but then she winces and apologises, staring him down for another few seconds then sighing.

  "In conclusion, he's pretty perfect for you. Not to mention really good looking," she winks, and it's enough to soften Matthew once more, answering with a rueful grin and hard sigh.

  "He's... sometimes he's so hot it makes me go cross-eyed," Matthew fires out, startled at himself for the revelation. Sarah blasts out a peal of laughter that she tries to suck back in and takes a couple of seconds to look away from Matthew to get herself together, shuffling back around to her side of the table when the waiter passes them with a glare.

  "Let's see. Taller than you, so for once you've got to look up. Blue eyes. Perma-stubble, and hair just the right shade of not-too-blond, long enough to give you something to grip on to when—"

  "Would you stop—"

  "He's perfect for you," Sarah repeats, and Matthew's shaking his head in doubt—not at Sarah's praise of Joel, but of her belief that he might be deserving of someone like that. "He is. He's... he's all of these things you've just said, he looks at you like he knows just how much he's lucked out—"

  "Sarah—"

  "And how jealous did he get when he thought I was coming on to you?" She continues, adamant though smiling as she says it.

  "That was... that was just... he just... he just found it weird is all. It wasn't... it wasn't—"

  "I'm serious," she says, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "You think I'm just saying this? You think I'd be encouraging you to maybe try and work things out beyond this convenient little arrangement this thing started out as, if I didn't think he was good enough for you?"

  The earnest way Sarah looks at him then has Matthew's heart melting and his shoulders dropping, helpless but to smile back at her all over again. "And I know it only started out like that, you know I do. But clearly you care about each other. Look how jealous he got when we met up. Look how—look how much time you clearly spend messaging each other back and forth, how much you know about each other already—aside from in the biblical sense. Look at how happy he makes you—and he's got nothing but good things to say about you when we message each other as well."

  Of course, Matthew's interest is instantly piqued, and he's sitting himself up a little straighter. "Like what?"

  Sarah winks, teasing for a second. "He's just as secretive as you and doesn't go into detail either. But he does say he really likes spending time with you, and that things are going great. In fact he shuts down exactly the same and gets as defensive as you do when I, uh... press a little." And now Sarah's doing that wince of apology she does all over again.

  "Please stop pressing. I don't—I don't want to ruin this—I don't want anything to ruin this," Matthew says then and it bursts out of him unchecked as though the words have their own minds.

  "Who says you're gonna ruin it—"

  "Because he doesn't feel the same," and there it is, Matthew cringes to himself at finally admitting out loud what he's fearing, slumping all over again. He closes his eyes at the pitying look Sarah gives him, deciding he doesn't want to see it.

  "Is it just a case of you can't decide if he does or he doesn't? Or has he actually said—"

  "We don't really talk about it," Matthew sighs, shaking his head. "We talk about... we talk about so many things. So many, but... but never about this."

  "Well maybe—"

  "And apart from that time we met up with you, he never wants us to go out," Matthew adds in a quick blast as though now the first words have had an outing all the rest are following suit.

  "Has he flat out said that?" Sarah asks, rolling her eyes when Matthew gives an abrupt shake of his head. "Have you even asked him?"

  "Well no," Matthew's admitting, avoiding her gaze as he does. "But... he's not asked me either—"

  "So it's all on him to ask? Rude, Matthew, rude. What have I taught you about equality in these things?" Sarah teases him, though it's much softer than before. "Seriously. What's wrong with just.... idly throwing it out there. Hey Joel, wanna meet me after uni at this great little Italian place nearby? You know the place," she adds with a wink as she does what Matthew thinks is a terrible impression of his voice, "Or how about we have coffee after work before football? Or something."

  "And if he says no, it gets awkward, maybe he'll not want to keep doing what we're doing?" Matthew retorts, shaking his head again. "It's not worth the risk. It's too good to give up, you know?"

  "So you're holding out on him asking you to maybe take things a little further—obviously not in that sense since you're already well and truly versed in each other carnally by now—"

  "Sarah—"
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br />   "And how do you know he's not holding back on asking you fearing exactly the same thing?" Sarah says then, an arch in her voice that has Matthew cringing all over again.

  "I guess I don't—"

  "Exactly," Sarah's nodding now, gleeful and excited, "I know it's scary, but if there's even a chance that the perma-smile on your face since you two started might stick around a bit more long term... you know I wanna see it. I love seeing you happy, you know?"

  "But what if—"

  "He's not Rebecca." Sarah's response is like a punch to Matthew's gut. Because this is what it boils down to really, doesn't it? The few short relationships he'd had prior to Rebecca had not done much to boost Matthew's confidence in himself when it came to trusting other people. Matthew has admitted to himself since that a lot of his self-doubt over the years has come from his lengthy denial of his sexuality, and it's only recently he's admitted his attraction's skewed so much further in favour of men than it ever was for women. But the way Rebecca had left him with no inkling of anything being wrong between them has really left a painful mark on him. Matthew's scared to try again, because what if there are signs he should be seeing and he keeps missing them? What if there's something wrong with him that means people don't want to stick around?

  "He isn't," Sarah's saying again, and it's obvious from her tone he's zoned out of their conversation and into his own head. "He's... I knew him for years before I met you. And I know—we were... we were kids. Teenagers. But you know... even then he was someone I never hesitated about trusting. And you know him—better than I do. Joel's a good guy."

  Which, Matthew's telling himself, is something they've already agreed on. But what if it turns out that he is not good enough for Joel? Sarah's sudden narrowing of eyes has Matthew firmly believe she's reading his thoughts. "You take that back. Whatever shit you're giving yourself. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy, Matt. Everyone does."

  "But what if... what if you're wrong? What if he doesn't feel like that?" Matthew asks, small and truly terrified.

  "Then either he's a decent enough guy about it and you two figure out if you can still continue like you are or not. Or... or he's an idiot and I'll be here for you when it's time to step away from it."

  Matthew smiles down at Sarah's hand still squeezed around his arm, instantly covering it again. "Or I could just live in this awkward limbo and keep things to myself—and you now," he suggests, laughing when her grip tightens.

  "Which isn't fair to either of you. Is it?" is her instant, wisdom-like reply. Matthew hangs his head in contrition and makes non-committal sounds, but of course she's right. She's even good enough not to be smug about it, he thinks then, able to raise his face to look at her again and smile.

  Chapter Eleven

  Matthew's lost sleep planning what he's going to say to Joel since his conversation with Sarah two nights ago. He pictures Joel, tries to predict all his possible responses and anticipate his own responses in return. Every which one of them leaves him feeling stupid, but that doesn't stop him going over them all, all over again, before he decides he's going to take the coward's way out and message him.

  Matthew's halfway through planning his argument with Sarah about how much of a wuss he's being resorting to that instead of asking to his face when his phone buzzes and he looks down at it, his heart giving a thud seeing the message there waiting for him is from Joel. "Think this inspection might be finished by the end of the day—which means it's going to be a late finish for me again, but it does mean I'm free tomorrow evening if you're around?"

  Here's his chance, Matthew thinks to himself, a thrill of nervousness making him feel a little sick. In the space of a few seconds he imagines asking him, Joel's responses being everything from no thank you to I only want to fuck you to if I can get you off under the table, sure.

  Matthew types rapidly to try and outpace the way his brain's shouting problems at him, hitting send before he allows himself to read it back. "I'm free," it says, beginning innocuously. "I was thinking... there's this amazing Thai food house round the corner from mine with a decent bar. Wanna meet me there and grab some food before we head back to my place?"

  Matthew's heart is racing and the grip of his teeth around his lip is seconds away from drawing blood as he stares and waits for Joel's answer. And when he does, Matthew sags forward with such relief that it's audible. "I'd love that," he reads, "I'll make sure I finish work by five so we get plenty of time together. Let me know the address​​​?"

  Matthew rapidly types the address back and tells him he's looking forward to it then begins the over analysing of Joel's reply. Does that mean he wants to get the public part of their evening over and done with quickly like he's ashamed of him? Is he just placating him and really just wants to get back to his apartment and on to the things they're usually doing? Is he actually wanting to spend that much time with him whatever they're doing? When they get together on weekdays one of them is usually stumbling home close to midnight. Is Joel planning on going home the same time as normal? Earlier?

  When no further wisdom appears in Joel's reply of, "looking forward to it too," Matthew groans to himself and forces his eyes away from the phone, attempts to focus on the couple of hours work he's got left to do before he can head home and catch up on the reading he wants to get ahead on this week for his studies.

  *~*~*

  Of course, from the moment Joel's agreed to have dinner with him—which Matthew has to remind himself constantly does not make it a date—until the moment he's seconds from being outside the place they're meeting, all Matthew is worrying about is how he should behave around Joel while they're out together, and if he's got the tone of the evening right. Is this restaurant too small, too intimate for what's supposed to be a casual evening? Were his usual blue jeans and the navy shirt he'd seen Joel look over appreciatively the right thing to wear for this? Maybe he should have worn a tie. Should he greet him with a kiss? A hug? A handshake? And Matthew snorts out loud laughing at that. Like there's ever been that much formality between them.

  He settles on the idea of a hug, since it seems the friendly thing to do, and if Joel decides to make anything more of it then Matthew will willingly follow his lead, he decides. He also tells himself he might just accidentally nudge his leg against Joel's under the table to see how he responds but not put any pressure into it. He thinks of a way to sneakily hold his hand, then blushes hard enough to have to rub over his face to try and wipe it away, writing the idea off entirely.

  In perfect synchronicity that Matthew tells himself he's not seeing, Joel arrives outside of the Thai food house at exactly the same time he does, wearing black jeans and a dark green sweater that he's never seen him in before but that looks incredible. Joel's smile catches his breath, as does the easy way he pulls him into his arms in an equally easy hug that Matthew tells himself goes on for a touch longer than is necessary if they're only meeting as friends. Surely he didn't imagine the relieved way Joel sighed and nuzzled into his neck?

  Inside, Matthew's cautiously allowing himself to acknowledge how that easiness continues. There's nothing awkward in the way they keep up an almost constant conversation with frequent contact between them. A press of knees together, a hand squeezed around a shoulder then slid down a back. There's even a moment when Joel squeezes his hand around Matthew's thigh beneath the table that isn't at all sexual—it's affectionate, and reassuring, and so very, very welcome.

  "Is this somewhere you come with Sarah?" Joel asks at one point, his eyes immediately darting away from Matthew and lingering over the soft lighting of the small restaurant, the ornate tea candle decorations on the table next to theirs, and the few prints that adorn the walls—anywhere but at him—giving Matthew the impression he wants him to think the question is casual, instead of pointed, and failing terribly at it.

  Sarah's suggestion had been actually little more than a glib comment, sparking the idea for Matthew for where he wanted to take Joel. And though Matthew tries not to h
ear her assumption that Joel might be jealous of her, the slightly nervous look Joel eventually gives him only supports it.

  "Came here with my brother when he was visiting," Matthew tells him, hesitating for a second before reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Joel's thumb is up immediately to squeeze over his own, and his face is softening in poorly-disguised relief.

  Towards the end of the meal—pad thai for Matthew and green chicken curry for Joel—which isn't rushed like Joel doesn't want to be there with him, there's a look that passes between them that is loaded with heat. And Matthew tells himself, it's not the kind of heat that's because of the things they're obviously going to do to each other once they're back in his apartment. It's because it feels very much that both of them are wanting to lean in for a kiss.

  They don't, but the thought of it has Matthew's heart skipping all the way home, as does the frequent way Joel's hand brushes against the back of his. And whilst the way they reach and claw at one another the second they get through the door is nothing but lustful, the way they lay together in the aftermath is even more tender than it usually is.

  *~*~*

  That first meal out together is the beginning of several of their evenings starting out in a similar fashion. There's even one night when they get so engrossed in a conversation they're having at a bar, leaning into one another with enthusiasm for what they're saying, that there's a discreet clearing of a throat beside their table announcing it's closing time, politely telling them to go. It's a kiss-loaded hand job on the sofa that gives them the relief they're seeking for the evening, and the kiss goodbye takes even longer than that, meaning Matthew doesn't get home till almost 3 o'clock.