Improper Fraction

by V. L. Locey

  I mulled over a million things as the sun rose steadily higher. Such as my previous statement that math, unlike Garrison, never lied. True, numbers are generally truthful in that if you play with them enough, you will discover the answer. But not every mathematical problem can be solved. The halting problem is widely believed to be undecidable. Mathematicians seem to make some general statements about our work that is, in all honesty, not entirely true. Therefore, while some numbers or equations do lie, the majority of time math makes sense. Humans, sadly, do not.

  In fact, we rarely make sense. And if I’m being as honest as I like to say math is, I have to be added to the equation. There are things that I’ve done that weren’t sensible. Sleeping around was one of those, as was taking another chance on Garrison holding my heart. Most people would say I was an idiot for doing so, and yet, here I was giving him my all once more.

  A hand on my shoulder startled me. I spun around to see Garrison standing behind me in a pair of fleece shorts looking as tousled and messy as I was. His smile made the ocean seem a little less spectacular. O’Malley Ramsey, you are so smitten it’s sickening.

  “When I woke up and you weren’t in bed I figured you were out walking,” he said then stepped up to stand beside me. A gentle breeze blew over us. We both faced the rolling waves.

  “I thought about it but got stuck here in the sand.” I told him then glanced in his direction.

  He looked down. “Are we standing in quicksand?” When his gaze came back to me, his dark eyes twinkled.

  “No, I just got lost in thought.” He reached up to push a persistent strand of hair from my brow.

  “You do that a lot,” he replied as one hand came to rest on my lower back. “Why don’t you come running with me?”

  “I only run when a bear who’s trying to eat my ass is chasing me.” I informed him then looked back out at the ocean.

  “Roar.” My gaze left the swells and settled on Garrison. I arched a questioning eyebrow. “I’m a bear that wants to eat your ass.” I gave him an exemplary eye roll and he had the good grace to appear to be ashamed. “Okay, I know that was lame but I really would like to get into that whole rimming thing.”

  I gave him a soft nudge in the side for his atrocious attempt at being funny. He pushed back and, as always, a scuffle broke out in which I ended up on my back with Garrison sitting on my thighs. Back in middle school, he would have done something like tickle me until I ended up doubled over with laughter-induced hiccups. This wasn’t middle school though, and the fire in his eyes said he had something much different in mind than tickling. A wave rolled up over us. He moved with the motion of the ocean and swept down to grab a salty, sultry kiss. Ugh, motion of the ocean. Maybe I shouldn’t be throwing stones for bad word choices. My feet rode up in the wave as his mouth settled on mine. Foamy salt water flowed around my neck as his lips moved sinfully over mine.

  “So…about that rimming lesson,” I said when the wave raced back to the sea leaving us soaked and gritty with salt and sand. “I think I should instruct you.”

  He plucked my soaking wet glasses off my nose. “You are the teacher.” He growled then took one more taste of me before we raced back to the villa for some erotic tutoring. Garrison was an amazing and most willing student. He was also delicious and vocal. Each pass of my tongue over his ass pulled the most amazing low rolling growl out of him. I tongued and toyed, bit his cheeks and lapped at his heavy balls, enjoying the hell out of him being on his hands and knees.

  “Fuck me.” He begged as I pressed several soft kisses to his tight opening. “Mal, come on, fuck me. I want it.”

  “I know you do,” I said then ran the tip of my tongue down the crack of his ass until I ended up at his dangling nuts again. I nuzzled them with my nose. He grunted and wiggled his ass. I dug my fingers more tightly into his cheeks. “But I don’t want to hurt you.” I sucked a fleshy orb into my mouth and shifted my weight from my right knee to my left. The carpet was beginning to feel less cushiony now that I’d been kneeling at the end of the bed for about fifteen minutes.

  “I’ve had worse, trust me, ah Mal, shit.” He punched the bed when I started sucking on his balls loudly and without reservation. “Mal, shit, please, I’m so close.”

  As much as I hated to let his balls slide free from my lips, I did. I patted his ass and gently pushed on him until he dropped to the bed and rolled to his back. His cock was stiff and weeping. I sucked it deeply into my mouth. He bucked up off the bed, his arms stiffly behind him. My eyes locked with his as I swallowed every single inch of him.

  “How do you fucking do that?” He managed to cough out before I began bobbing up and down, cheeks hollowed, teeth scraping gently along the underside of his cock. He blew apart in less than a minute, his spunk coating my mouth and throat. I held onto his thighs tightly and went down on him one long, last time. His body convulsed strongly for a few moments then his elbows buckled and he collapsed to the bed. “Shit, you are incredible.”

  “When you enjoy what you’re doing it’s easy to give it all you have.” I pushed up from the floor, rubbed my knees, and then was tugged back into the sandiest, dampest bed this side of the Pecos. I fell on my side and then flopped to my back, Garrison hungrily kissing me. When the kiss ended, he wiggled downward until his knees hit the floor. I have never had such an exuberant blowjob. He was loud, sloppy, and insanely aggressive. I loved every second of it. He played around with my ass as he noisily sucked, his finger probing and investigating. I slapped a hand around on the nightstand until I found the Astrolube. “Here, use some of this and finger me.”

  My cock slipped out of his mouth. A fine string of spittle linked his lower lip and my dick. The need to come intensified. Then he swiped at the thread with his tongue. “Hurry, I’m going to come soon.”

  He did as I asked. “How many do you want?” he asked.

  “Three.” I huffed and reached for my cock. He slapped my hand away and fell on it like a hungry jackal. Three fat fingers found and then breached me. “Garrison, oh shit that’s perfect. Tilt them just – yes, oh shit yes.”

  He rubbed my sweet spot just twice. My orgasm ran over me and pulled a shout of pleasure out of me. Garrison sucked and sucked as he made sounds usually only heard at a fine steak dinner. His fingers were huge and stretched me. I put my feet on his shoulders and rotated my ass in wide circles. Each bump of his fingers against my prostate made the rolling orgasm more intense. Soon I was nothing but a trembling, sweaty mess of a man. My heels slid off his shoulders. He gave my cock one last lick then pressed kisses to my knees. The loss of his fingers deep inside me made me groan in displeasure.

  His stomach rumbled loudly. We both sniggered at the sound.

  “Told you I was a hungry bear.” He joked while getting to his feet. “Let’s take a bath and go get some food. You want to play tennis later?”

  “No thank you,” I replied and took the hand he held out to me. He jerked and I came to my feet and into his arms, our bare chests lightly smacking. “I’m heading to the spa. I want to be pampered.”

  “I’ll pamper you on the tennis court,” he said then bit my earlobe playfully.

  “No, you’ll spank me on the tennis court.”

  “Mm, that idea has some merit.” He growled. It truthfully did but I didn’t allow that to lure me into playing any kind of sport with the man. After showers in the smaller bath off the master suite, we went to the Plover Room for brunch. The menu included Eggs Benedict, pastries, omelets, hash browns, sausages and coffee, tea, or milk. Garrison and I sat at a small table on the veranda that looked out over the sea. We ate and talked, touched and smiled, laughed and flirted. This was everything I had ever dreamed a relationship with Garrison – hell, any man – would be like. What a damn pity we had to leave here tomorrow and go back to the reality of being gay men in a world that still harbors people who think homosexuality is a sin or a sign of mental illness.

  “Hey, you’re off in mathland again,” Garrison said then l
ifted his third cup of coffee to his lips. He was running on very little sleep, just like me. But while I intended on spending my day napping in a mud bath with cucumber slices on my eyes, he was signed up for tennis in thirty minutes followed by eighteen holes of golf.

  “Actually, I wasn’t thinking about numbers this time.” I forked a small sausage as our eyes met. He arched a dark eyebrow so I continued. “I was thinking about how incredible this is. Can we live here forever?”

  “Yeah, that would be nice.” He sighed then blew into the black coffee in his mug. “If only I didn’t have to a game in two days and you didn’t have to…go to work.” His pause came just as I bit off a chunk of sweet breakfast sausage. “Mal, I’m sorry to stumble over that like I did.”

  I waved my fork in the air dismissively. “It’s fine. I know it sucks to be working for my father as I did during summers back in high school. At least it’s a job, which is more than quite a few of our fellow graduates have.”

  “Something will turn up. You’re too good of a teacher to work at a travel agency for the rest of your life.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile. The umbrella over our table ruffled and creaked in the steady wind now blowing off the ocean. My napkin blew into Garrison’s empty plate where he grabbed it then handed it back. He eats much faster than I do. A seagull cried out overhead as I tucked my napkin under my coffee mug. “I think I might look into substitute teaching.”

  “Why not apply in Columbia?” he asked then checked his watch. He was dressed for the court in white Nike tennis shorts and form-hugging gray tennis polo. I couldn’t stop stealing looks at his thighs and calves.

  “That’s pretty far for a sub position.” I commented as my gaze roamed over his legs. He cleared his throat and I looked up at him. “You have the sexiest legs I’ve ever seen on a man.”

  “Baseball,” he said with a somewhat cocky smile. “I didn’t mean for a sub position, I meant for a permanent one.”

  “Driving to and from Columbia five days a week would be too expensive.” I cut another bite of sausage from the lone link on my plate then stabbed it with my fork.

  “Then move there, with me.” My fork slipped from my fingers. The other diners glanced over at the sharp sound of silver striking china. My cheeks grew warm. Garrison sat there, relaxed and athletic, his dark hair dancing in the sea breeze while I gawked at him. I gently picked up my bite of sausage and crammed it into my mouth. The tastes of sage, black pepper, and thyme exploded on my tongue. “I’m going to get a place there, hopefully close to the stadium. Why not apply to the city schools and move in with me.” I chewed dully, the wind flipping the long hair atop my head to the left then to the right, and then dropping it onto my forehead. “Are you ever going to say something?”

  I swallowed my pork then took a long sip of my creamed and sugared coffee. “Are you asking me to live with you in Columbia?”

  His eyebrows knotted up. “Was how I put it confusing?”

  “Well, no, but that’s a huge step, Garrison.”

  “I’m ready for it,” he said and I saw that he believed that he was. His brown eyes glowed like smoky brown quartz.

  “Are we going to be living as partners or as roommates?” I sipped my coffee and studied him closely through lenses dotted with sea mist. He lowered his mug to the table.

  “I hope someday we’ll be a couple, but at first, we’d have to tell people that we’re just old friends sharing the cost of an apartment.”

  “I thought that might be the case.” I glanced out at the sea and let the gulls grab my attention. Garrison’s hand came to rest on my forearm. I looked from the birds dipping and bobbing on the waves to the man holding my arm.

  “Mal, I’m doing this as quickly and as comfortably as I can. I know you want us to be out to the world, but it’s not as simple for me to just stand up and tell everyone that I’m gay as it was for you. I told you the truth. That’s how we work now, right?”

  “Yes, that’s right, no more lies.” I laid my hand over his. “Having to live under a blanket of deceit isn’t appealing at all, Garrison.”

  “It would maybe be for a couple of months, just until I’m settled on the team. Then I’ll talk to Coach Ranney and tell him I’m gay.” The alarm on his watch beeped. He threw it a dark look then gazed at me. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take the day and think about it, or take a couple of weeks. I know you have doubts about me yet but waking up in the middle of the night finding you next to me is the single best thing to ever happen to me, O’Malley.”

  “Even better than putting on that Cutters uniform for the first time?”

  “Yeah, even better than that,” he replied without hesitation then grabbed his napkin, wiped his face, and pushed to his sneakers. “I have to go or I’ll lose my court time. Maybe it’s good we’re doing some individual stuff today. It’ll give us both time to think about the future.” I nodded then tapped my puckered lips to see if he’d kiss me in front of all these strangers. He bent down and pressed his lips to mine. My face must have shown my shock. “I meant it when I said I would do this for us, Mal. Just give me time and support.”

  “Always,” I replied. That brought out his killer smile. I gave him a wave before he jogged off to knock balls over a net with some staff professional. Watching him hustle off was enjoyable, as was sitting back with my coffee and letting my mind begin sorting the mishmash of thoughts inside my skull. I drank two more cups before I felt steady enough to head to the spa. Should I even entertain the notion of moving to Columbia with Garrison?

  After paying the check, I made my way to the Great Egret Spa & Rejuvenation Center. It certainly lived up to the beautiful bird it had been named after. A tall, lean man whose skin was the same shade as black licorice whisked me into a room and out of my clothes. My personal spa guide introduced himself as Chaska while helping me get my arms into a fluffy sky blue robe. Little flip-flops adorned my feet as I followed Chaska into a dark room filled with incense, Tibetan bowl music, thin white tapers in bronze holders as tall as my spa guide, and a massage table.

  Chaska helped me up and then peeled me out of my robe and relieved me of my glasses. Lying face down on the table, white towel covering my ass, my spa guide began chatting as he started rubbing scented oils into my feet. Every ounce of stress and tension I had ever stored in my body disappeared. Face cradled by cushions lining the face portal, I listened to him talk about his father and sister, some man he was trying to flirt with who worked in the kitchen, and how he thought seagulls were nothing more than flying rats.

  “So,” he asked as his fingers slid between the toes of my left foot, “who did you come to Kiawah with?”

  “Well.” I sighed as I stared at the blurry floor. “I suppose he might be my boyfriend?”

  Chaska slapped the sole of my foot playfully. “What is not knowing if man is boyfriend or not?” I couldn’t place his accent. It sounded to be Russian with a hint of Jamaican, if I had to guess. It was quite attractive and unique, as he was. “If he brings you here, then he is boyfriend.”

  “He asked me to move in with him.” I blurted out as my bones turned into tapioca pudding.

  “See, you knew he was boyfriend,” Chaska said as his hands slid up to my calf. “Where are two lovebirds living?”

  “Columbia, if I decide to take him up on the offer.” His fingers kneaded my calf muscle as if it was warm bread dough. “I might never leave this table.” I murmured.

  “Oh yes you will. You are for mud bath in thirty minutes. So, why are you no going to take him up on offer?”

  Between the warmth of the room, the Tibetan bowl music, the tapers, and Chaska’s incredible hands, I felt loose as a goose as my father would say. Things I probably shouldn’t be sharing with a stranger flowed out of me. I told him the history of Garrison and O’Malley. He massaged and listened, making small sounds along the way. When I finished filling him in on our convoluted history, he was working the kinks out of my neck with his elbow.

>   “Well, Mr. O’Malley, I think you have some big thinking to do.” I sighed dramatically as the tight muscles along my neck slid into submission. “But if it was to me, I would take offer from the sexy Garrison bootball man. You only get one chance making at true love.”

  “Baseball.” I corrected automatically then apologized for being such a teacher. Chaska laughed it off then stepped away from the massage table. It was questionable if I’d be able to move my body was so rubbery, but I did manage to get myself into a sitting position, the modesty towel draped over my genitals. “What if he lies to me again? What if he never comes out? The odds of him doing both are rather high.”

  “And what if he never lies to you again and does come out?” Chaska asked and shook out my robe. I slid off the table, pushed my feet into my flip-flops, and slid my arms into the sleeves of my robe. “He lied yes, but we both know why he did so was proper good reason.”

  “There’s never a good reason to lie, Chaska,” I said. His thin black eyebrows dropped into a V.

  “He lied because he is afraid, just like you are afraid, and just like so many gay brothers are afraid. The world is not a friendly place for queers. I lied for years, to other people and to me.” He tapped the spa logo on his pale green staff t-shirt. “I know I hurt people, and me too, but I had to lie then. Now, I do not. Bootball man will come out and it will be good life.”

  “You sound so sure of that,” I said as I tied the sash of my robe. “I wish I could erase my doubts.”

  “We need doubt eraser.” He announced then hustled me from the massage room to the mud bath area. The room held six stone tubs all filled with gray-colored mud. Chaska steered me to a changing area where I slid on some shorts and then met my guide beside what I assumed would be my tub. “Step in careful.” He held my hand as I stepped into the warm mud. It was an odd feeling but not unpleasant. It reminded me of the soft mud squishing between my toes that night Garrison and I made out in Lake Amalie. “Sit down. There is good! Now lay back. Oh! Give me your glasses. Thank you.”