by Lina Langley
Lawrence picks up the phone almost immediately after I call him. “Alejandro,” he says. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “It’s been a minute.”
“It has,” he says. “How has your summer been thus far?”
I want to reply that it has been weird and I sort of wish it hadn’t happened, but that’s not really any of his business. “It’s been okay,” I say. “I need a favor.”
“Sure,” he says. “What can I do for you?”
I swallow. Any other time, I would have asked Cyrus to take me to the airport, but not now. There’s no way I can ask Cyrus to do anything for me now. “I need you to drop me off,” I say. “Before I go to seminary. I don’t—I don’t want to take a taxi to the airport.”
There’s a pause before he answers. “Of course,” he says. “That’s absolutely no problem.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he reiterates. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” I say. “I thought I would be more excited by now.”
“You’re not,” he says. It’s not a question, but I can tell that he’s probing.
I swallow. “There are a few things that are going on in my personal life,” I say. “I think they might be making me feel less excited about it than I should be.”
He waits for a few seconds. “Do you want to talk about?”
I lick my lips. I didn’t realize how dry and chapped my lips are. “I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about,” I say. “My best friend and I are sort of in a fight and I’m worried that I’m going to leave without making up with him.”
“And you feel like you can’t reach out to him so that you can reconcile?”
“I’m… I don’t know how to apologize,” I reply. “I don’t know where to start. But I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”
He laughs quietly. “I asked,” he says. “And I’m glad I did. Because it seems to me like you needed to talk.”
I smile. “Yeah,” I reply, knowing I won’t talk any more about this. “Thank you. This is helpful.”
“Of course,” he says. “Just send me the details and I’ll make sure to pick you up.”
“Okay,” I say. I can feel a tug at the corner of my lips. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“Don’t worry, Alejandro,” he says. “You’re not alone.”
I thank him again and scramble to get off the phone, because I’m pretty sure that if I keep talking to him, I’m going to burst into tears and make a fool of myself. I stare at the phone after I’ve hung up and then lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Lawrence is right, I need to speak to Cyrus, and nothing is going to feel okay until I do so.
I grab my phone and scroll until I get to Cyrus’ contact card. He’s smiling at me in his picture. I don’t know how many times I’ve just looked at his picture and thought about getting in touch with him.
I press my finger on the call button and sigh. I expect that he won’t pick up, but he does, after only a ring.
“Alex,” he says. “Hello.”
“Hey,” I say. I should have been more prepared for him to pick up, but I really thought he was going to send me to voicemail. I swallow. “Cy, can you talk?”
“Sure,” he replies, then takes a long time before he says anything else. “What?”
“I—I’m going to leave soon,” I say. “And I just, I don’t know, I guess I just wanted everything to be okay between us.”
He sighs. “Alex—”
“I miss you,” I say. “Everything is going to change once I leave. I just want things to be okay between us.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m leaving before you.”
I blink. “You are?”
“Yes,” he says. “There’s nothing left for me here.”
“Cy—”
“Or for you,” he says. “Good luck, Alex.”
Then he hangs up the phone. Now I can feel the tears on my face. I don’t think there’s any way for me to fix this, so maybe it’s better if I just go and don’t try anymore.
CONTINUE
I’m sitting in Lawrence’s car and trying my best to make it seem like I’m not struggling with this decision. My bags are in the back of his SUV and they keep moving around the vehicle every time he takes a turn. Montgomery gave me a hug before I went and told me not to be too good, so I had a smile on my face until we took a corner and stopped seeing my apartment building. I’m leaving my life behind and I should be happy, but I’m not. I’m just worried about what life is going to be like when I get there. I haven’t yet made arrangements for when I get there, except for a room for a week in a motel, which should allow me to do that.
I should feel relieved. I don’t feel relieved, I feel the pit growing in my stomach as we get closer and closer to the airport. Lawrence looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I say, shifting my weight. “Things are still weird between my friend and me.”
“Do you want me to stop at his place? Before you go,” he says.
I look at him, my eyes widening. I never thought I would have an opportunity to make it up to Cyrus. I don’t know if this will, but maybe it will clear the air with him.
“You still have some time,” he says. “Before your flight takes off.”
“Okay,” I say. “Yeah, that sounds good. He doesn’t live far from here.”
Lawrence nods. He drives us there without complaining, and even though I’m sweating by the time we arrive, I ask Lawrence to wait and practically run toward Cyrus’ door.
I knock on it, hard, loud. I need him to come to the door as soon as possible. He does, eventually, though it seems to take forever. He looks like shit. He has lost weight, so he’s all cheekbones and teeth, and there are dark circles around his eyes. “Alex,” he says when he sees me.
The moment I see his face, everything clicks into place. I don’t want to go before I talk to him. I don't want to go at all, and that's probably the reason I was so scared. I always knew, I was just too afraid to do anything about it.
“You were right,” I say. “You were right about everything and I’m sorry.”
“Alex…”
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and sliding down my cheeks, hot and humiliating. “I shouldn’t have taken you for granted,” I say. “I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. I’m sorry. You deserve better. And I get it, I get it if you never want to see me again, but I want to stay. If it’s for you, I want to stay.”
He takes a deep breath, his eyes closed. “I’m going to LA,” he says.
“Then I’ll go with you,” I say. “If you want me to. Fuck seminary. I want to stay with you, Cyrus.”
He looks me up and down, a smile on his face. “What about God?”
“God is still going to be there,” I say. “Even if I’m not a priest.”
“Alex, I don’t know—”
I stop him from talking by wrapping my arms around him and kissing him, pressing my lips against him. He kisses me back until we’re both breathless. I let him go and look into his eyes. “Cyrus,” I say. “Seminary is not my destiny. You’re my destiny. I was just too afraid of losing you to see it. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every day, if I have to.”
He stares at me, then slowly, very slowly, he smiles. “You’ll have to,” he says. “And we’re leaving in two days.”
I nod. “Of course,” I say. “Let me just tell Lawrence I need to get my shit out of his car.”
He grabs my hand as I start to walk away, pulling me closer to him. “Wait,” he says.
“What?”
He kisses me on the lips again, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. “Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just glad you’re home now.”
“Yeah,” I say as he wipes the tears from my eyes. “I am too.”
THE END
Author’s Note
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About the author
Lina Langley is a first-generation immigrant. She currently lives in sunny Florida and spends her time slashing hot strangers while getting coffee.
Her past is haunted by spies, thieves, tyrants, and murderers. A resident of the world, she’s lived on three different continents. She first saw a radiator when she was twenty-two years old, and one time she followed a cat instead of going to a house party.
She likes to read, watch TV, and play video games when she’s not developing them. The rest of her free time is spent recreating her own characters in The Sims and hoping that people don’t look at the back end of her games.
You can email her: [email protected]
Chapter SIX
I make sure to ignore Montgomery when he walks into the apartment. I don’t want to engage him in a conversation when everything feels like it’s up in the air, especially when something as delicate as my friendship with Cyrus seems to be in question.
Montgomery doesn’t seem to want to speak to me either, which suits me just fine. Cyrus has turned off his phone and I don’t know how many messages I can send him online before coming across like a stalker. I’m pretty sure I’ve already crossed that line.
Night has rolled around and I don’t feel any better. I can’t even pray, which normally helps me, because that feels like it would be a betrayal of… something, though I can’t figure out what.
I walk over to the fridge and talk one of Montgomery’s beers out. “Yo,” I say to my apartment. “I’m taking a beer. I’ll pay you back later.”
He appears at my side from out of nowhere. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean?” I say, startled by his sudden presence.
“You don’t drink,” he says. “Unless something has gone terribly wrong.”
I close my eyes. “I do,” I say.
“You’ve said beer tastes, and I quote, like alcoholic bathwater,” he replies.
I shrug. “Yeah, well, it’s not about how it tastes, right?” I ask. “I mean, that’s what I’m starting to get.”
“Fine,” he says. “Hand me one. Let’s hash things out.”
I nod and hand him a beer. I don’t know if I want to hash things out, but it’s his beer and I think that’s the price I have to pay. We sit down on opposite ends of the sofa and I take a long look at him.
He speaks first. “You don’t have to like me back,” he says. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I know you’re leaving soon and I… I wanted to get it off my chest. It was more about me than it was about you.”
I nod and tilt my beer toward him. I take a sip. I was right, this does taste like alcoholic bathwater. I make a face as I move it away from me. “That’s… thanks,” I say.
He laughs a little. “You’re welcome,” he says, then sighs. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. Look, a crush is just a crush, I’ll get over it.”
“No,” I say. “I mean, yes. I know you’ll get over it. It’s just… things are weird with Cyrus since then and I don’t know how to make it better.”
“Since when?”
I swallow and look him up and down. “Since I told him I was interested,” I say. “You know, in you.”
He sits up and furrows his brow. “What?”
“I called him because I needed to talk to someone about it and… and he asked me if I wanted to pursue you and I said yes,” I say, more to myself than to him.
He tilts his head. “Why?”
“Why what?” I ask.
“Why would you want to pursue me?”
I look him up and down. “Seriously?” I ask. “I don’t know.”
He looks away from me and takes a sip of his beer. “Not good enough, choirboy.”
I swallow. “I don’t know,” I say. “You’re hot and nice and I thought… maybe, maybe it would be cool if we could have something before I left.”
He looks at me from the corner of his eyes, a smile playing upon his lips. “You want to fuck me for a few weeks before you go?”
I can feel how red my cheeks are. “I mean, I just thought it would be cool,” I say. “If you wanted to.”
He turns to look at me. “You wanted to use me,” he says.
I shake my head. “I mean, not necessarily, I just—”
He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says as he finishes his beer. “I get it. I don’t mind being used, as long as you tell me. Which I suppose you have.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be,” he replies. He slams his beer on the coffee table in front of him. He stands up and walks toward me. He leans down and pushes me back, putting all the momentum on my shoulder. He’s towering over me. “You want me?”
His face is level with mine, his green eyes small, his gaze on mine.
He’s grinding on top of me, moving his hips back and forth. The friction is almost too much, and his face is very close to mine. He literally got on top of me about two seconds ago and I’m already hard as fuck.
He grabs my face with the hand he used to push me back. “Say it,” he says. “Say you want me.”
He never stops moving his hips, his hand now forcing me to look straight at him. I could close my eyes, but I don’t think I want to.
He leans forward and bites my lower lip. “Tell me you want me, choirboy,” he says. “Beg me.”
My heart is racing and my dick is hard. I try to kiss him, but he moves his face away from me so I can’t reach.
“Say it,” he says, sliding back and forth on my covered cock. I’m hard and
moaning and I need to kiss him, I have to kiss him, but every time I try to lean forward, he jerks his face away from mine. “You want me, say it.”
“I want you,” I say quietly.
His eyes narrow as he speeds up, his hips moving on my cock. He knows exactly what he’s doing and I’m afraid I’m going to come right now just from him being on top of me. That would be embarrassing. He leans back and bites his lower lip, stopping abruptly before he sets his gaze right on my face. “Say my name, choirboy.”
I swallow. When I speak, my voice sounds strangled. I want this. I need this. “Montgomery,” I say. “I want you, Montgomery.”
“Good,” he replies. He leans forward and kisses me on the lips, softly, sweetly, and only for a brief second. “Keep it that way,” he says.
I watch him as he gets off me. He turns around and my cock is left hard and covered in precum. “Montgomery?”
“What?”
“What—what are you doing?”
“Watching you come,” he says.
He doesn’t have to say anything else. I wouldn’t normally do this, but I undo my buttons and reach into my boxers. I take my cock out and it’s hard and throbbing. He’s looking at me with his green eyes wide and his mouth half-open. He wants to watch me, and I wouldn’t normally be into this, but this is his fault. I’m doing this because of him, because of the way he climbed on top of me, because of his ass on my cock. He leans forward and kisses me deeply, his tongue warring against mine in my mouth, our kisses quick and sloppy.
My cock is throbbing and then he wraps his hand around the base of it. His touch on me is what pushes me over the edge and I can feel my orgasm spreading through the rest of my body, through to my extremities, making me moan and groan into his mouth.
He moves away from me. His hand is covered in come and he moves it toward his face. I watch, wide-eyed, as he starts to lick his hand clean. He does it slowly, with gusto. By the time he’s done, he kisses me on the mouth again and he tastes like me.
“Who do you want?” he says, his voice a whisper.
“You, Montgomery,” I reply breathlessly. “I want you. I want you so much.”
