10. Oz
CHAPTER TEN
OZ
He hated Deaf events. No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t hate them. They were the first things he’d experienced when he started setting his toes into the Deaf community that actually made him feel seen. Even cut off most of his life, he’d noticed how many shared behaviors and habits he had with other Deaf people who had grown up with access to the language and culture.
No, it wasn’t that he hated the events. It was that he hated how messy his head was. He couldn’t focus. It was the monthly meet-up at the billiards room a couple named Mandy and Eli owned. They were a hearing/Deaf pair who made it their mission to keep the space signing friendly. All the staff was either Deaf, Hard of Hearing, or more than conversationally fluent in sign.
There were print, picture, and braille menus, all the TVs had captions, and anytime they had entertainment, they hired Certified Deaf Interpreters to handle the shows.
It was nice.
Except Oz wanted to be back in his condo, buried under his blankets, doing everything he could not to think about tomorrow. Because tomorrow was Sunday. The day. He’d dreamed about it all week, waking up either hard as a rock or sticky from coming in his sleep because the dreams were intense.
He wished he didn’t know what Ridge felt like. What he tasted like. Smelled like. The sense memory of him was burrowed into his brain like a parasite and had given him zero rest.
‘You look upset.’
Oz blinked when he realized someone was signing to his left. He turned in his chair and saw a tall man with long dark dreads and deep mahogany-brown eyes, wearing a blue polo with the school logo on the breast. Myles—his coworker and friend—was leaning on a pool cue, giving him a look .
‘I’m not upset.’
‘Liar.’
Oz rolled his eyes and reached for his beer, but Myles was faster. He shoved Oz’s beer to the end of the table, then set the edge of his ass over the condensation ring it had left behind.
‘True-biz. I’m fine .’
‘Talk to me,’ Myles insisted. His gaze was unrelenting. Normally, Oz liked that about his friend. He was one of the first teachers who’d asked to hang out outside of work, and he was solely responsible for making sure that Oz was part of the group and not just the reclusive new guy. ‘I can tell something’s going on.’
Oz let out a slow breath. ‘Your family’s hearing, right?’
‘Mixed,’ Myles told him. ‘Dad’s HoH, mom’s hearing, grandparents are deaf but not part of the community. My brother’s Deaf like me. Sister’s hearing. Why?’
Oz shrugged, feeling a little defeated. Myles would not understand. ‘Do you think I’ll regret it if I give up on my parents?’ It was an easier conversation than the one he wanted to have about Ridge and what it would be like to fuck a man. He liked Myles, but he didn’t know him well enough to trust him with all that yet.
Myles gave him another look, then slid down into the chair and rested the pool cue against the wall so he could use both of his hands. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think I can give you an answer because I’ll never be in that position.’
Oz wanted to tell him he should be careful about what he said because he never knew when people who were supposed to love him would find a reason to stop. But he also knew that was his own trauma talking.
‘There are other people you can ask. So many people at school who have the same problem you do.’
That was also fair. He’d had a sit-down with a student looking to him for guidance because her situation was too much like his own. He closed his eyes for several breaths, then looked over at Myles, whose expression had shifted.
‘Something else is wrong.’
It was not a question. Oz felt his stomach twist. It was one thing to admit he was bi to himself. It was another to admit he was bi to the man he’d kissed. But to put it out there to anyone? He felt shaky and sweaty.
‘Hey, sorry,’ Myles signed in a rush. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Oz quickly shook his head and gathered himself. Myles was not a threat to his well-being. He was a friend. He cared. And while they’d never directly talked about sexuality, something about Myles told him he was safe.
‘Last weekend, something happened,’ he started, trying to keep his fingers from shaking.
Myles scooted his chair a little closer and gave Oz a look that told him he was listening. And more than that, he was present.
‘My mom invited my ex to my niece’s birthday party,’ Oz said. He glanced away for a beat. Was he really going to do this? To tell someone who wasn’t Ridge? The lie was out there, but the truth could ruin him.
Myles wrinkled his nose. ‘The one who refused to sign?’
That was pretty much anyone Oz had ever dated who wasn’t Deaf, but his dating list was small enough that he could nod his head and not clarify. ‘It was a big barbeque. My mom gathered the crowd and pulled a ring box out of her hand and tried to tell everyone I was going to propose to her.’
Myles slammed back in his chair. ‘ What ?’
Oz cringed and nodded. ‘I panicked, and I…’ His hand was shaking so hard he had to drop it to his lap for a second.
‘Whatever you did, I have your back,’ Myles told him, holding his gaze.
Oz nodded and bit his lip. ‘A friend of mine was there—the firefighter.’
‘The old, hot one or the one with the little Deaf girl?’
‘Deaf girl,’ Oz said. He felt his ears start to burn. ‘He was right there, and…I kissed him.’
Myles blinked rapidly a couple of times. ‘I’m with you all the way, but do you think that might be a little homophobic?’
Oz felt like he’d been hit in the sternum. ‘Is it?’
Myles grimaced and shrugged. ‘Like straight college girls making out at parties to get guys hot.’
Oh shit. Oz realized he wasn’t as obvious as he was afraid he was being. His cheeks bloomed bright red, and he licked his lips. ‘No. I’m bi.’ The moment his fingers twisted through the letters, he began to laugh. It was a high, nervous, terrified laugh. He’d done it again. He’d told someone again. How was it not any easier? ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he circled his fist over his chest.
Myles looked worried now. He waved his hand. ‘Hey. Breathe. In and out. In and out.’
Was he—oh. No. He wasn’t really breathing. He was kind of gasping. He sucked in air and held it for a few seconds before letting it out in a slow exhale.
‘Have you ever come out before?’
Oz shook his head, then stopped, then nodded. ‘I told Ridge after I kissed him. But no one else knows.’
‘So, was that your first kiss with another man?’
Oz wanted to crawl under the table and sink into the floor. ‘Yes.’
‘Please don’t be upset,’ Myles signed quickly. He gripped the seat of his chair and yanked it until he was close enough their knees were touching. It let them sign between their bodies, hidden from the rest of the room. ‘I didn’t mean to force you to tell me.’
Oz’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. ‘No. I wanted to tell someone.’ And yeah, that was definitely the truth. He felt sick from nerves, but the relief was enough to eclipse all the anxiety. Or, well, most of it. ‘I’ve known for a while, but I was scared to come out. My parents already refuse to accept that I’m Deaf. I knew they’d never be okay if I liked men too.’
Myles’s expression fell. ‘I know how that feels. My parents eventually came around, and they’re good with me now, but they’re deep Black Southern Baptists. They didn’t like the fact that I wanted long hair and got into hip-hop dancing in high school. When they found out I was pansexual, they lost it.’
Oz flinched. ‘How bad was it?’
Myles laughed and shook his head. ‘Obviously not as bad as what your parents put you through. There were a lot of difficult Sunday dinner conversations and my mom trying to reason it away with calling it a phase. But one day, she met Anish, and she realized I was happy. Like, really happy.’
Oz blinked at him. ‘Anish? PE Anish?’ He glanced around the room until he saw the PE teacher—a very tall, very muscular man with short, black, wavy hair, light brown skin, and a face that always looked like he was on the verge of laughing.
How did Oz not know this?
‘You didn’t know he and I were married?’
Married ? Oh my God, he’d been living with his head in the sand. He was so embarrassed. He covered his face and bowed his head for a few beats before forcing himself to look up.
‘I’m so self-absorbed.’
Myles smiled softly and shook his head. ‘You obviously have a lot going on. Too much.’
Oz couldn’t argue there. ‘I should be a better friend.’
‘You still have time,’ Myles told him with another laugh. He grabbed his shoulders and gently shook him. ‘Tell me about this guy.’
Oz wanted to swallow his own tongue and choke to death so he could get out of this conversation. ‘Not much to tell. He’s a single dad—adopted his daughter when she was a baby. He’s a firefighter, and he hangs out with a group of other queer dads.’
‘So he’s not straight?’
Oz shook his head. ‘Definitely not.’
‘And he has a Deaf kid.’
That made Oz smile. He really liked Ina. She was such a clever, funny little thing. He’d never thought about having kids, but if he did, he hoped they’d be like her. ‘Yeah. They have a sign-first home, which…’ He shrugged. Fist-kiss .
Peh-peh . Myles’s grin had softened into something sweeter, almost indulgent, which terrified Oz because this was all fake. He did not need his hopes up that this was something real or ever would be.
‘He’s happy to play along with me. He didn’t like what my parents did.’ And he wanted to fool around and let Oz experience what it was like to be with a guy without strings attached. Which was what he wanted.
Right?
Yes. Definitely.
‘It sounds like the best of a shitty situation,’ Myles eventually said.
Oz couldn’t really argue there, except it didn’t feel that way. It felt like he’d taken the best of a shitty situation and fucked it all up by being desperate and horny. But as much as he was in a sharing mood, he wasn’t going to tell Myles that.
‘Thanks for letting me come out.’
‘Thank you for trusting me,’ Myles said. He leaned forward, then pulled back. ‘Hug?’
Oz laughed, then let himself lean into Myles’s arms. A few seconds later, another set of arms wrapped around them, and he looked up to see Anish joining.
‘Sorry, I saw everything,’ Anish signed with one hand. ‘I love group hugs.’
Oz laughed harder and nodded, and Anish wrapped both of them tightly in his beefy arms. It reminded him a little of Ridge. Okay, it reminded him a lot of Ridge, and it made the hollow ache for something he couldn’t have feel even deeper. He really had screwed it all up, and after tomorrow, there would be no going back.
If only he had the strength to say no.
In spite of the fact that he hadn’t been drinking at all, Oz felt hungover the next day. His stomach was rolling, and his muscles were aching from all the tension he was holding in his body. He spent a long time soaking in an Epsom salt bath, and then he went for a walk on the treadmill at his complex gym.
When that didn’t help, he wrapped up tightly in a weighted blanket and tried to force himself to take a nap, but every time his eyes closed, he saw Ridge. He felt him. Tasted him. Smelled him.
Eventually, he plopped down in front of his Xbox and got lost in his game for a while, which did take the edge off. At least, until the light on his phone flashed with a text from Ridge.
Ridge: OMW. You good for me to come over?
Say no. Just say no. Say there’s been a change of plans. Don’t do this to yourself.
Oz: I’m all good.
You’re a dipshit , he told himself as he flung his phone across the room. It hit a pile of sweaters that were waiting for the wash, and he flopped down onto the floor, gaze fixed sightlessly on his ceiling fan.
Why did he do this to himself? Did he really hate himself that much?
He knew the issue wasn’t whether or not it would be good. Of course it would be good. It would be amazing, in fact. He had no doubt that Ridge would turn his world upside down and inside out.
But he’d never recover. He’d never get over this godforsaken crush, and it was obvious Ridge wasn’t interested in more than a little fun.
He let himself wallow for another three minutes before realizing what Ridge had said. He was on his way. He was on his way, and Oz said it was all good, but it was not good because he wasn’t ready. He was wearing his T-shirt with spaghetti stains and his worst pair of sweats. His hair was all over the place, and he hadn’t shaved, and oh God, had he even brushed his teeth?
He scrambled to his feet, but before he could make a mad dash for the bathroom, the lights flickered. Holy fucking shit. Had the man texted him from the parking lot?
Oz began shaking all over, and he forced himself to take several breaths until his heart no longer felt like it was trying to beat out of his chest. He had two options: let Ridge stand outside for however long it took to get ready or let Ridge see him like this.
Both had a greater than zero chance of chasing Ridge off—which was maybe what he wanted? Maybe not. He had no idea. His brain was made of cotton fuzz and caffeine—thick but going a thousand miles an hour.
The lights flashed again. He had to do something.
His body apparently decided for him because he became aware that he’d moved right as he was reaching for the door. He tried for a smile that felt like a grimace, and he immediately saw the shift in Ridge’s face the moment it came into view.
‘Is this a bad time?’ Ridge asked.
It would always be a bad time, but Oz wasn’t going to tell him that. ‘I had a panic attack and forgot to get ready.’ Oh my God, why did he say that?
Ridge didn’t laugh. He didn’t look disgusted. His face wasn’t full of pity. He gave a firm nod, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. His gaze traveled up and down Oz’s body, and then he reached his arms out, holding them open.
It took Oz a second to realize what for, and something inside him cracked that he didn’t immediately recognize the offer for a hug. His throat felt thick as he stepped into those warm arms, and he felt himself groan as Ridge’s arms tightened around him. And after two breaths, tension rushed out of him like Ridge had pulled the plug on a drain.
He felt the rumble of Ridge’s chuckle, and the bigger man squeezed tight before gently pulling back. He kept hold of Oz’s shoulders as he searched his face and looked into his eyes. ‘Okay?’ he eventually asked.
Oz nodded. ‘I’d like to change out of my gross clothes though.’
Ridge laughed again and waved him off. ‘If you want. You look good to me.’
That had to be a lie. There was not a chance in hell Oz looked anything other than the mess he was on the inside, now reflected on the outside. But he appreciated Ridge’s kindness. ‘Help yourself to food or drinks. I won’t be more than five minutes.’
He was definitely going to be longer than five minutes. He rushed into his bedroom to gather clothes from his dresser, taking three shirts, a pair of jeans, two pairs of sweats, some boxers, and mismatched socks.
He threw them all on the top of the toilet lid, then stared at himself in the mirror. God, he looked like shit. He tugged at his cheeks, pulling down on the dark skin under his eyes, then bared his teeth at his reflection and recoiled in horror when he saw a bit of parsley from his lunch stuck between two.
He frantically picked at it, then grabbed his mouthwash and began to swish as he attempted to order his hair. His fingers bumped over the magnet lump, and he debated about putting his processors on to make the evening easier. But the truth was, it wouldn’t be easier. Not for him, and he didn’t think Ridge had come over expecting to be accommodated.
That was what made him so great and so terrible at the same time. Oz wished the man wasn’t such a good person. It would be easier to think of this as pure experimentation—trading bodies and pleasure for the fun of it. For the experience.
And he’d be able to walk away without giving a shit.
But instead, Ridge was gorgeous, sweet, caring, and he spoke Oz’s language with growing fluency and the promise that he would never, ever ask Oz to use his voice if he didn’t want to.
Fuck his life.
Shoving away from the mirror, he stared at his clothes, then went with the tight jogging sweats that made his ass look great and a long-sleeve Henley with thumb holes. They were his comfort clothes that had the bonus of looking good, and he didn’t hate his reflection when he returned to the sink.
Well, apart from his hair.
He finally spit out his mouthwash, then wet his hands and finger-combed his locks until they settled into something reasonable. He turned from side to side. Not the best. Not the worst. Exactly as he should look for someone who would never be his forever person.
Never mind how the thought of having Ridge forever made his insides squirm.
Turning away from himself again, he reached for the door handle, then came to a halt when he saw Ridge once again hovering in his doorway.
‘You’re making this a weird habit.’
Ridge flushed, but he didn’t look sorry. ‘Thought it might be easier if we were in here.’
Oz’s ears blazed. ‘Bold.’
Ridge shrugged. ‘You didn’t seem like you were in the mood for small talk, though if you want to?—’
‘No,’ Oz signed very quickly. If he didn’t do something now, if he didn’t make some kind of move, he was going to lose his nerve for good, and he didn’t think Ridge would extend this offer more than once if he was rejected.
‘I can leave if this is too much. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,’ Ridge signed.
Fuck, why did he have to be such a good guy, damn it. Oz closed his eyes in a long blink, then squared his shoulders and tensed his jaw. ‘I want this. I want you to show me what it’s like to come with another man.’
Ridge’s body spasmed, and Oz briefly wondered if a noise had come with the movement. If he was closer, he could have touched to find out, but he was still several steps away, waiting on a knife’s edge.
He licked his lips, his breath trapped in his lungs.
Then Ridge lifted his hand, made a C-shape, and rubbed it up and down from throat to chest three times. He ended the sign by pointing at Oz. It wasn’t exactly right, but it was close enough.
He was turned on. And it was because of Oz.
‘Bed?’ Oz asked.
Ridge’s gaze flickered over to the mess covers, then back to Oz’s eyes and captured his gaze, holding it. His hand lifted and made a fist. ‘Yes. Now.’
And Oz obeyed like it was the only thing he could do.