by Jace, Alex
Arjen turned away without a word.
“You could stay at my place tonight. If you wanted.” Max heard his own voice cracking.
Arjen got up, cleaned up and started to dress. In silence.
Max stared up at the ceiling. His throat tightened and he swallowed.
He got dressed too. Evening light filled the gap between them. The silence was heavy with words unspoken, with the memory of what Max had done.
He tried again. “Arjen…”
“We’re done here.” Arjen buttoned his shirt, his face closed.
Arjen had never come to his house since Max had kicked him out. Not once. And Max had never been allowed to spend the night with him.
As Max left, feeling like he was cracking apart, he finally understood what should have been obvious to him for weeks.
He was in love with Arjen.
And he had ruined everything.
LEAP OF FAITH
A bottle of Irish whiskey stood on the table. The liquid inside burned a deep gold in the light of the setting sun. It threw a shadow like firelight across the dented table, the empty glass, the pile of unopened bills.
Max stared at the bottle, wondering if one more drink would drown out what he was thinking. He could not see any other way to escape the revelation burned into him in letters of fire.
He was in love with Arjen. The man he had pursued, persuaded and finally coaxed into bed, only to kick him out afterward like last night’s trash. The man who had never trusted him again.
Christ. He needed another drink.
Max had never been in love before, and it was terrifying. He had arranged his life to keep everybody at arm’s length. He had drinking buddies, but no friends. He picked up a different person every night. He never called his so-called family. His flat was empty of mementoes, of warmth; the ticking of the clock echoed in the deep silence. Now all he could think about was his craving for Arjen. And every day without Arjen was a day wasted. Every hour spent in silence, every night in a lonely bed.
He pulled out his phone and stared at it. His thumb found the call button, but he knew better than to hit it. Because although they were still having sex, Arjen would never allow him to come over just to spend time with him. That was forbidden.
As much as he liked fucking Arjen, as badly as he needed it, it left an ache inside him that nothing could fill. It was the silence afterward. The distance between them. The words left unspoken.
Max poured himself that drink and slammed it. It didn’t help. He still knew with a leaden certainty that Arjen would never want him. Why would he? Arjen lived in a beautiful house that he shared with a friend who adored him, his family all thought he was amazing, they wanted him to come home all the time so they could make a fuss of him. And every time Max was left on the outside.
It made Max irrationally jealous. He seethed when he arrived at Arjen’s house one storm-lashed evening to find Arjen on the sofa with his arm casually around his housemate Cate’s shoulders. Their dark heads were bent together as they talked, Cate leaning easily into the taller Arjen. Their shared smile cut Max deeply. It wasn’t fair that Arjen showed his friends affection but not Max. “Why don’t you ever hug me?” Max asked, suddenly loud.
Cate eyed him without expression. She was wearing a white dress and subtle makeup that brought out her cheekbones. He knew how little sympathy she had for him; she’d once confronted him in the coffee shop where he worked to tell him to stay away from Arjen. She thought Arjen was too good for him. She was probably right.
Arjen gave him a cold look, and took his arm back from around Cate’s shoulders. “If you want a hug, try a stuffed bear.”
Max set his jaw. His face burned. Maybe it had been a stupid question; maybe nobody would ever want to hug Max. He could not remember if Arjen had ever been that relaxed with him.
He bided his time until he could corner Arjen in the kitchen, flattening him against the tall metal fridge, a hand on either side of his head. Arjen drew in a quick breath, his chin lifting so he could meet his eyes. Max had always revelled in their height difference—he liked looming over him.
“We should spend more time together.” Max could not afford to sound tentative. It had to be an order with Arjen.
“I don’t think so.” Arjen pushed at his chest, trying to get him to move.
Max held firm. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal. You like me, I like you. Let’s catch a movie some time.”
“You like fucking me. That’s not the same.”
That pissed him off. Arjen was right, Max did like fucking him; he had never known pleasure as intense as when he was inside Arjen, and Arjen always reacted so well to him, clutching at him, pleading for more. But he could not be satisfied any longer with that alone.
He caught Arjen’s mouth in a rough kiss. Arjen yielded to him for a sweet moment, dragging him down for a deeper kiss. Max got him pressed up against the fridge, hot and taut, just how Max liked him. He dipped a hand to squeeze Arjen boldly through the front of his trousers. Arjen’s gasp gave him a deep satisfaction.
Max nuzzled into the tempting line of his throat. “What are you afraid of? That if you go out with me you’ll like it?”
“I’m not afr—”
Max cut him off by pushing a hand into Arjen’s trousers. Arjen groaned as Max’s fingers closed around his length. “Hush,” Max whispered in his ear, enjoying the heat of him, the rigid hardness. He started to stroke slowly. “Cate might hear.” Judging by the murmur and crackle in the background, she was watching the ten o’clock news in the living room.
Arjen made a stifled sound and shifted against him. Max could feel the rapid beat of his heart through the thin cotton of his shirt. Max squeezed harder. Arjen tipped his head back against the metal of the fridge, his eyes fluttering shut. “We shouldn’t…”
Max kissed him again. Arjen melted into him, his fingers curling into Max’s t-shirt. He was so sweet like this, so yielding. Perfect.
When Max judged he wouldn’t resist, he turned him and bent him over the kitchen counter. For all his protests, Arjen was starting to shiver with anticipation; he was only too eager for this. Max worked his way into him slowly, relentlessly, until he was sheathed tight inside him.
It gave him a fierce thrill to fuck Arjen in the kitchen where Cate might hear. Let her know that Arjen craved him more than anything. He swept a clatter of striped coffee mugs impatiently into the sink and started to pound Arjen harder from behind, his hand clamped over Arjen’s mouth to keep him silent. Arjen’s stifled whimpers only made his hunger burn hotter. He had Arjen exactly where he liked him, spread out for him, at his mercy. Max growled low in his throat as he drove home hard.
Arjen came in silence, only the powerful contraction of his body betraying the intensity of his pleasure. There was just no way Max was going to resist being squeezed that tight. He spilled himself deep in Arjen’s body with a rush of triumph.
Afterward, with both of them breathless and doing up buttons, Max sprang his ambush on Arjen. “Let me take you out to dinner.” Max had it all figured out. He’d take him to a fancy restaurant, the type with the crystal glasses and the silverware, where he’d launch into a big speech. Arjen would take his hand and say, Max, I’ve been waiting for the right time to say this, but I’m in love with you too…
“Thanks,” the real Arjen said, his voice cool. “But no thanks.”
Max’s fantasy popped like a bubble. “What? You don’t want to go out to dinner?” It always worked in the movies. The candlelight, the silver cutlery, the folded napkins, it was magic.
“Not with you.” Arjen tried to smile, though it came out twisted. “Sorry, Max. I’m just not interested in a pretend date.”
That stung. “Why would it have to be pretend?”
Arjen gave him a look and finished his last button. In silence.
Max should have shut his mouth then but his useless hurt and anger surged out of him. “You should introduce me to your family.” It came out harsh
.
“What?” Arjen took a startled step back, and banged into the fridge door.
“Your family. I want to meet them.”
Arjen’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think so, Max.”
“Arjen!” Max was nearly in tears of frustration.
Arjen threw up his hands. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand you. You told me you have no feelings for me whatsoever—you made that absolutely clear. So that’s the way it is. Just sex, like you wanted. Go home. I’m going to bed.” He slipped under Max’s arm, twisting easily away from Max’s half-hearted attempt to grab him, and went upstairs. Max was left standing in the kitchen, his heart thumping against his ribs, empty-handed and speechless.
He could not think of a single way to deal with his intense frustration other than to reach for the nearest bottle. He took it moodily into the living room along with a glass. Cate was still there curled up in an armchair with her wine. She folded her legs beneath her and smoothed down her dress with the air of one checking her armour. She clearly had no intention of leaving her own living room just because Max was here.
Max slumped in a leather chair in front of a flat-screen television, poured himself a fifth of whiskey and knocked it back. The fire that burned his throat at least momentarily distracted him. The second time he drank more slowly.
The silence pressed down until it became unbearable. He burst out, “Why doesn’t Arjen like me?”
Cate sighed. She cradled her wine in both hands, the colour a rich red against the white wool of her dress. “He likes you a lot, Max. He always has done.”
“He doesn’t. He hates me. He won’t even let me hold his hand.”
“You hurt him. He doesn’t want to be hurt again.”
“I wouldn’t do that again!” Max put his bottle down on the table with rather too much force. Luckily the table survived. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff back when we first met. I know I upset him. I could make it all better if he’d just give me the chance.”
Cate turned her glass in her fingers, contemplating the last of the wine in the bottom, perhaps thinking over her next move. Then she lifted her eyes and fixed him with a hard stare. “I don’t like you, Max. I never have. You’ve been a bastard to Arjen and I won’t forget that. But he is absolutely crazy about you, so if and only if you can treat him better, I’ll help you.”
It did not feel good to be told how badly he’d messed up, but Max dragged out the words. “I can do better. I swear.”
“Good. You can start by apologising to him. Properly. Arjen likes you too much and he’s too upset to be placated with dinner. You need to offer him something that’s actually meaningful. Like a heartfelt apology.”
“I can—I can do that.” Yes. That would be good. Then Arjen would let him stay the night, wrapped around him safe and warm, and Max could finally be at peace.
He took a last gulp of whiskey for Dutch courage and strode resolutely upstairs. He took the stairs three at a time and burst into Arjen’s room without knocking. “I need to tell you something.”
Arjen paused, frowning. He was at his laptop getting some last work in; the angle lamp painted his face in shades of gold. Rain pattered against the window.
Max reached over him to snap the laptop shut; he wanted Arjen’s full attention. “Arjen, I really—I messed up before. I didn’t mean that stuff I said when we first met. I really like you. We should date. You know, with flowers and dinner and whatever. Dates.”
Arjen stared at him for a long moment while his face lost colour. Then he stood up. “That is it,” he said, in a toneless voice. “That is the last time you will ever laugh at me.”
“What?” Max stumbled when he tried to move closer, dizzy from the alcohol, unbalanced by a sharp stab of longing. “I’m not laughing at—”
“You knew from the beginning that I had real feelings for you.” Arjen laid it out coldly like the opening statement in a trial. “You used that against me. You tricked me into trusting you and humiliated me the next morning. You think you can do whatever you want to me, treat me however you like. You can taunt me about wanting to date when you know that I would have wanted that. That I still want it. Desperately.” Arjen’s voice cracked on the last word.
Max tried to stammer an explanation, but his stupid tongue would not co-operate. He had thought for weeks that Arjen had nothing but contempt for him; it had never occurred to him that Arjen could be hiding this much pent-up feeling. “I didn’t—”
“Save it.” Arjen’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I get it. I’m just a cheap fuck you’re stringing along until you get bored of me. Well, I’m done. You may not be capable of a real relationship, but I have actual feelings like a grownup. And being treated like this is unacceptable. You need to leave.”
“Don’t,” Max said, his throat tight, dying to just take Arjen in his arms, “please don’t, I—”
Arjen faced him with his chin up, his expression set. “I don’t need this, Max. Nothing is worth this. Get out. I don’t want to see you again.”
“Arjen—”
“Get out of my house.” Arjen’s voice went deadly low.
And still protesting, Max was thrown out of Arjen’s house into the rain.
The storm still raged outside. Rain slashed down out of a night filled with thunder, the sky black and glowering, trees leaning under the wind. When Max stumbled out onto the drive of the big house he ended up drenched in seconds; the rain soaked his coat, making it cling heavily to him, plastered his hair flat to his skull and worked its icy fingers under his collar. He began shivering immediately.
He could not think of anywhere to go. Anything to do. There was nothing but silence waiting for him in his flat; if he could not be with Arjen, he might as well be nowhere. The stinging rain numbed him. He felt hollow.
He sat on the doorstep for a long time as the rain hammered his bent head.
Cate had warned him that he needed to offer more. He had told Arjen he liked him, he had suggested that they date. Cate had clearly meant more than that. Like everything.
For the first time Max confronted the necessity of telling Arjen the absolute truth. Confessing every burden that weighed him down. He was so far gone into despair by now that the thought of finally saying it gave it some relief; at least he would have gotten out the words that strangled him. Let it be done at last. Then if Arjen turned him away he would know it was over for good.
He knocked on the door.
There was no answer. He waited patiently. All his anger had burned out; there was no impatience left.
In the end, Arjen answered. He looked Max over and sighed. “You need to go home, Max.”
“Please don’t send me away.” It came out a cracked whisper. Max could barely feel the rain. “Please.”
Arjen hesitated.
At the last hour, Max managed to get out the words. They tumbled out jerkily at first, then with growing force, the torrent finally unleashed. “Arjen, I’m so sorry. So sorry. I’ve been such an idiot. I should never have hurt you—you deserve so much more. I’ve tried to tough it out, but I can’t take this any more, it’s killing me. Every time you push me away it feels like you’ve stabbed me. All I want is you. All I think about is you. When I wake up in the morning I’m already missing you. I miss the way you used to trust me, the way you used to smile at me. I hate that I could have had that if I hadn’t been so scared. So scared that I couldn’t say… I couldn’t say that I’m…” His voice splintered on those last inescapable words. “I’m in love with you. I’m sorry. That’s all I can say.”
Arjen stared at him. Speechless. In the silence that followed there was only the drumming of the rain.
“You what?” Arjen finally managed to say. “You—did you mean that?”
“Yes. Every word.” His hands clenched into fists. He was numb with the terror that Arjen would send him away once and for all.
“And you really—”
“I love you.” It was easier to say the second t
ime. He had no doubts about it at all; it had the ring of certain truth. “I’m sorry. I’m crazy about you, I always have been. I should have told you from the beginning. I was just scared that you’d laugh at me, scared that you’d leave me. I thought if I hurt you you’d go away and I wouldn’t have all these feelings any more. But it didn’t work. I only wanted you more. I love you. I want to prove it to you.”
“And if…” Arjen had to swallow hard. “If—if I wanted that too, you wouldn’t make me leave again?”
A tiny spark of hope lit inside as Max dared to think that Arjen might give him another chance. “No. Never.” He meant every word.
“You’re sure? You wouldn’t change your mind?” Arjen reached up to cup Max’s face, his palm warm against his cheek. His fingertips trembled.
Max leaned helplessly into his touch, craving more. “I’m sure. I’m so sure.” Arjen looked up at him like nothing else existed in the world, like he was the only star in the sky. The spark of hope kindled to a flame, then to a blaze. “Can I—?”
“Please.” Arjen made it sound like a prayer.
It was the only permission he needed. Max pounced on him instantly; he crushed Arjen against him and captured his mouth with all the pent-up desperation of the last few weeks. Arjen made such a sweet sound as he wrapped his arms around Max’s neck. God, Max needed this so badly. He could barely believe that Arjen was in his arms. He had been dying to touch him like this, to stroke his face, to whisper all those secrets between kisses. “I love you. Christ, I love you. Please never leave me.” He pulled Arjen into a fierce hug, clutching so tight he feared he must be hurting him. Arjen clutched him right back. “Thank God.” Max kissed him again, full of sweet relief.
Arjen slipped his hand into his, and Max nearly burst with happiness. He had spent so long craving that simple gesture of trust and affection. “I wanted you to be mine since the first time I saw you,” Arjen whispered to him. “I always wanted you.”
“Can I stay the night?” Max curved his whole body around him, wanting to encompass him and shield him from the world.
