by A. E. Wasp
But that was the issue, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to go any further with Paul if Paul was only going to hate them both for it.
“Just tell me,” Robbie said. “I won’t think you’re an idiot.”
Paul looked doubtful and a little scared. His hand trembled as he raked it through his hair.
“Hey,” Robbie said, walking to him. He wrapped his arms around Paul. “Hey. Whatever you say, I promise I won’t judge, okay? I’ll just listen. You feel what you feel.”
“Okay. But don’t look at me. I can’t talk about it.”
“You want me to turn around?”
“Yeah. Stand behind me again. I like that.”
Robbie did, wrapping his hands around Paul’s waist. “Feel good?”
“It always feels good when you touch me. That’s part of the problem.” He stopped as if waiting for Robbie to say something. When Robbie didn’t, he took a deep breath and plunged on.
The words came out haltingly at first, then gained speed as Robbie kept his promise and didn’t interrupt.
“How can something that feels so amazing, so intense, be good?” His fingers tightened over Robbie’s hand. “You’re like heroin or something. I can’t stop thinking about you. I see you all the time, and I still want more. You’re a walking, skating temptation. It’s like you were crafted by the Devil specifically for me. To tempt me.”
He took a huge breath when he stopped, his body tense in Robbie’s arms.
22
Robbie
Robbie listened to the waves crashing on the shore and watched the quick-legged plovers chase the water back down to the sea, searching for the tell-tale sign of air bubbles rising from the freshly revealed sand.
He was so grateful he had promised not to say anything because he couldn’t think of one single thing to say in reply to that. That kind of thinking was so beyond anything he knew.
Seagulls screeched loudly
“Say something,” Paul said quietly.
Robbie kissed his neck. Paul tilted his head to the side, so Robbie did it again.
“You haven’t run screaming yet, so that’s good,” Paul said.
“I don’t know how to drive a stick-shift,” Robbie said deadpan.
“So you’re at my mercy then.”
“More than you know.”
“What do you mean?” Paul turned in his arms.
“I wanted to hate you when you got here.”
“I know,” Paul said.
“Nope. My turn to talk. You listen.” He grabbed Paul’s hand. “Can we talk and walk back to the car and drive some more? Maybe to someplace with coffee? I’m getting cold.”
Paul nodded. Not talking.
“So I wanted you to be a jerk. But you weren’t. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you and about that night.”
“That was the night after Eubee’s funeral.”
Robbie stopped walking again, almost jerking Paul off his feet. “What the fuck? You never said anything.”
Paul frowned at him, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. “Not something I wanted to talk about. I wanted to not think about it. And you helped me with that.”
“Glad I could help.”
Paul tugged him to get him walking again. They walked slowly towards the car. A golden retriever ran up to them, sniffing and leaning in for pets.
A couple heading in their direction called out for the dog, apologizing.
“It’s okay,” Paul said, as they got closer. “He’s beautiful.”
“Rover,” the man called, slapping his leg for the dog to come over. “Come.” He and the woman with him could have been on the cover of Seattle Hipster Weekly. With a small wave, the couple left, Rover running down the beach ahead of them.
“Rover?” Paul asked incredulously.
“Welcome to Seattle. Where even the dogs are ironic.”
Paul laughed. A small laugh, but genuine. Robbie was glad to hear it.
“No wonder you punched me the next day. I wouldn’t have even been able to skate.”
Paul shook his head. “It was all I could do.”
“I get that.”
They reached the car.
“Do you want the roof open again?” Paul asked.
“Yes, please.”
Robbie watched as Paul pulled the hard panels off and stowed them in the trunk.
There were so many things Robbie wanted to say or to ask. Did Paul believe in a literal devil? Did he actually think Robbie could be some sort of tool of the devil if he/it existed? Really?
Robbie sighed heavily.
“What?” Paul asked as if he’d been waiting for the questioning to start.
“I just need to hear you say one thing.” This was it.
“What?” Paul’s eyes narrowed.
“I need to you to say that yes, you are gay and that you want to be with me.”
“Or?”
“Or we’ll just have to be good friends. I’m not going to stop being your friend.” He started to lean against the car, then stopped himself, leaning instead on the split rail fence separating the parking lot from the beach.
“It’s ironic. When Drew, my last boyfriend, left me, one of the things he complained about was that I wasn’t willing to be out for him. That he wasn’t important enough.”
“Do you need me to be out to the team?” Paul shook his head as he asked as if he couldn’t even face the thought.
“No. Just to you and to me.”
“We already know.”
“I just need to hear you say it out loud.”
“It’s hard.”
“I know. But if you don’t, it’s gonna suck.”
“For you?”
“No! For you, dude.” Robbie paced in a circle, trying to put into words something he’d been feeling lately. A niggling thing that had been growing in just the past week. “It’s just… life deep in the closet sucks. I’ve seen those guys. They’re angry all the time. It’s frustrating.”
Oh, great. Great word. Talk about frustrating. He needed the words to be there so he could help Paul, and he didn’t have them.
But Paul did. He’d said them a few minutes ago. Robbie stopped pacing. “I’m scared, too,” he said.
“Of what? What do you have to be scared of?” Paul leaned against the rear of the car.
“You.”
“Me? I’m not going to punch you again or anything.”
“I know that.” He walked up to Paul and stood in front of him.
Paul reached for his hips, fingers slipping into the belt loops of his jeans.
“What about the paint?” Robbie asked with a grin, despite the seriousness of what he was trying to say.
“My car, my rules. Now, what are you scared of?”
“You’re right,” Robbie said. He reached out, sliding his hand behind Paul’s neck, his fingers reaching inside the sweatshirt and his thumb caressing the short hairs on the back of Paul’s neck. “We are really good together. I want to touch you all the time, too.”
Paul shuddered.
“I think you’re amazing. For a lot of reasons. And, not to put any pressure on you, but there is a lot at stake here. No matter how casual we try to keep it.”
“It’s not casual. I couldn’t, never.” It was Paul’s turn to search for words. “You know how hard this is for me. I couldn’t with anyone. Just you. I trust you.”
“And I want to trust you.”
Hurt, Paul tried to pull away, but Robbie kept his hand on his neck. “You don’t have to tell anyone else. But I need to hear you tell me, out loud, that you are gay and you want to be with me. Every time we’re together, I’m terrified that you’re going to freak out. And then you’ll never be able to look at me again, and not only will that suck for me–”
“It will fuck up the team,” Paul filled in.
“Yeah. It could fuck up the team.”
Tugging slowly at his belt loops, Paul reeled Robbie in to him until he could wrap his arms around him. He stared at
Robbie for what felt like endless long seconds. The close scrutiny was unnerving.
Finally, Paul exhaled, breath warm against Robbie’s face. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.
“Of course,” Robbie replied automatically.
Paul kissed him like he was testing out a theory. Gentle at first, then with more pressure. Robbie opened his mouth at the touch of Paul’s tongue. When he sucked on it, Paul made a pleased sound and wrapped his arms around Robbie, pulling him tightly.
He kept his hands in Paul’s hair. Paul spread his legs to get Robbie even closer, sliding down the car a bit as he did. Robbie liked having the height advantage for once. He curled his fingers into Paul’s curls and pulled his head back to take control of the kiss. If this was a test, he was going to make Paul understand what he’d be giving up.
He wrenched Paul’s head to the side and bent down to kiss his way up Paul’s jawline. He bit harder on Paul’s earlobe than he normally did, knowing it wouldn’t leave a mark.
There was no place on Paul’s body could mark up without someone on the team seeing it. Stupid showers, Robbie thought as he dropped his mouth to the vein on Paul’s neck. He bit as firmly as he dared, sucking the skin into his mouth.
Paul shuddered, and pressed Robbie’s face against his neck, trapping him. “Harder,” he whispered hoarsely.
Robbie shoved his hands and arms under Paul’s sweatshirt. “I can’t,” he said, dragging his nails down Paul’s back. “People will see.” He was rewarded with a long, wavering moan.
Paul gripped onto Robbie’s upper arms and flipped them so Robbie’s back hit the car. “Someday I want them to see.” He moved so he was straddling Robbie’s thigh. Robbie clamped his hands on Paul’s ass.
A school bus rumbled into the parking lot, and Paul smiled against Robbie’s mouth. “Guess we should move this somewhere else.” He pulled back but kept hold of Robbie’s hand.
“For the record, I would like to state that yes, I am gay. I want to be with you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Robbie’s heart lurched. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but Paul would come to his senses eventually. He had to.
He pushed himself off the car, smiling at Paul. Paul took a quick step back, alarmed. He must have thought Robbie was going to kiss him.
Wearing rain boots and carrying small fishing nets, the little kids tumbled off the bus. The adults attempted to keep them corralled. A few of the kids noticed them and started nudging each other and pointing.
Please, let them not be hockey fans, Robbie thought.
One of the taller girls waved at them and yelled across the parking lot. “Hey! Nice car!”
“Thanks!” Paul yelled back.
“Seventy-seven?”
“So close!” Paul answered with a big smile. “Seventy-six.”
“Sweet.”
The chaperones called the kids over, and the girl gave them a wave goodbye.
“Wanna head home or drive some more?” Paul asked.
“Lunch, my place, and more sex?” Robbie asked hopefully.
“Lunch, my place, and more sex,” Paul countered. “I need my own clothes.”
“But I like the way you look in mine,” Robbie said with a smile.
Paul shoved his hands deep into his pockets like he was trying to stop himself from touching Robbie. “Lunch, then sex at a location to be determined.”
“Deal.”
As tempting as the idea of food and sex was, they took the long way back to the city. During the season, they had so few days off to enjoy the gorgeous scenery. And besides, watching Paul’s expert driving, and feeling the classic Corvette vibrating under them as it hugged the curves and crested the ridges of the mountains was sexy all by itself.
The radio faded to static, so Paul shut it off.
Robbie had his arm slung casually over the back of the seat, fingers occasionally running through Paul’s hair.
“Thanks for not freaking out on me back there,” Paul said. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d gotten back in the car.
“I told you I wouldn’t.”
“But you don’t quite understand where I’m coming from.”
“Not really.”
“It’s so frustrating. I don’t have anyone to talk to about all the sides of me, you know? I get the feeling that talking about God in the gay world is a touchy subject. And I can’t talk to anybody in the church about what it means to be gay.”
“Why don’t you just find a gay-friendly church and go talk to someone there?”
Paul jerked his gaze over to Robbie, slowing down from an illegal eighty-miles-per-hour to a slightly less illegal seventy-five. “They have those?”
“Yeah. I know of least three back in Columbus. This one church, something congregational, they have a married lesbian couple as co-ministers. There’s got to be something like that in Seattle.”
“Yeah, huh.” Paul pushed the car a little faster.
“I think you should,” Robbie said. “Because I really, really like you. More than I wanted to. And I want to give us a good shot.”
“Me, too.” Paul rested his hand on Robbie’s leg.
“But as long as you hate yourself, we’re not going to work.” Robbie said as kindly as he could.
Paul looked away. “I know. I’m trying. Do you think I have to out myself to the team or anything?”
“No. I already said that. There’s no timeline for doing that.” Robbie sighed. “But I have to be honest. You know how it is. Everyone is up in everyone else’s business. If we’re together, eventually they’ll find out. And, thinking rationally here, we really should tell Coach before he finds out from someone else.”
“Yeah. Fuck.” Paul ran his fingers through his hair. “I fucking hate that they did this to me. I hate that something I love made me hate myself. How is that fair? In what world is that fucking fair?”
“Look I don’t know much about religion, but I thought the whole thing was that God made man in his image, right? And God is love, etc., etc. Why would he make you gay if he wasn’t okay with it? And don’t give me any of the mysterious ways cr- stuff.”
“As a test?
“I don’t know man. Occam’s razor. The simplest solution is usually the best. Maybe he’s just okay with it.” Robbie tried not to say it, but it came out anyway. “Or maybe there is no God.”
Paul didn’t react as shocked as Robbie expected. “Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But back to Occam’s razor, I don’t think that is the simplest answer for anything. If there is no God, why is there anything at all?”
“I don’t know,” Robbie admitted with a rueful laugh. “So much I don’t know, I try not to think about these things.”
“I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately,” Paul said.
“Yeah. Me, too,” Robbie admitted. “More so since you.”
“Ditto,” Paul gave him a white-toothed grin.
It felt good to talk to someone about these things. He had achieved the goal he’d been working for his whole life. Ten thousand kids would give their right arm to be in his place. And yet he couldn’t help feeling a vague sense of dissatisfaction, and he couldn’t put his finger on why.
“I think,” he started, shaping his thoughts even as he spoke them. “I just figure, well, we’re here, all of us. So let’s make the best of it. Like, how can I make it a better world, an easier world, for someone?”
“What, like Gandhi or someone?”
“Not like that level. But, you know, volunteering. Doing something good. Like working for Doctors Without Borders.”
“Hockey Players Without Boards,” Paul joked.
“Life’s hard. Like you said, I’ve had an easy life. I have had a lot of privilege. I’m a white guy, and if things keep up like this, I’m going to be a rich white guy. I feel like I should use my position, my privilege to do something to make a difference.”
“I think that’s admirable. But what are you going to do?”
“If only,” Paul said.
Robbie’s jaw dropped. He turned to Paul, shaking his head gently. “Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke about me being evil?”
“Don’t molest the driver, Satan!” Paul said in mock alarm.
“I’m going to beat you.”
“Promises, promises.”
A sign on the road pointed to a scenic overlook half a mile ahead. “Pull over,” Robbie said. “And I’ll show you promises.”
With a grin, Paul stepped on the accelerator, throwing Robbie against the back of the seat.
Robbie had expected the pull-off to be a sandy spot on the side of the road, but the overlook boasted a large paved parking lot with a walkway and freakin’ binoculars, for God’s sake. It was empty now, but he’d have to work quickly before another school bus showed up. He pointed to a spot furthest from the entrance. “Park there. And park with my door facing out.”
“I’ll have to park sideways,” Paul pointed out.
“You worried about getting a parking ticket?”
“Kinda,” Paul admitted.
Robbie patted his leg. “Don’t worry. No one is going to notice how you’re parked.”
Paul maneuvered the car into position.
“Stay,” Robbie said, pointing at Paul as he got out of the car.
“Bossy today,” Paul joked.
He wasn’t laughing when Robbie opened the driver’s side door and tugged Paul’s legs out of the car. “What if someone comes?” Paul whispered when Robbie dropped to his knees in the parking lot.
“That’s the whole goal,” Robbie answered, unbuttoning Paul’s jeans since he was taking too long to get with the program.
Paul peered nervously out the window in the parking lot, craning his neck to look behind them. His dick didn’t seem to share his concerns as it was growing hard under Robbie’s hand.
“Focus,” he said, lowering his mouth to Paul. “Who knows how much time we have before someone else wants to check out the scenery?”
“You are evil,” Paul whispered, putting a hand on the back of Robbie’s head to push him down. He slumped down as far as he could in the bucket seat.
Robbie loved giving head, and from the muffled sounds escaping the fist Paul had crammed into his mouth, Paul loved getting it. Really, who didn’t?
