Chapter Nine #2
“Speak for yourself,” I mock-protested, puffing up my chest.
Flynn chuckled. “So, when did you know?”
I took a gulp of my beer. “Know what?”
He tilted his head, just slightly. A tiny gesture, but it was enough.
“Oh, that.”
“That,” Flynn agreed, widening his eyes just briefly.
“Not while we were... hanging out,” I said, slowly.
Thinking about the timelines as I did so, about the gradual shift from those first inklings you’re different, to the grudging but inevitable realization of just what that difference is.
Flynn knew, as well as I did, that it wasn’t a “you wake up and suddenly you’re gay” discovery.
“I mean, we were pretty damn young, then.”
I nodded agreement. “I guess I was fourteen, when it first started hitting me. And then the couple of years of denial, of course.”
He laughed. “Of course.”
I smiled around the mouth of the bottle. Swallowed, setting my drink down again. “How about you?”
Flynn grimaced. “Started realizing earlier, but I made up for that early-mover advantage by the denial lasting longer.”
“Too busy acing all those exams and preparing for your big escape, I’m sure.”
“Something like that,” he said, dryly.
“And your parents...”
Another laugh. “Not a clue. Or, if they do, they’ve decided it’s easier, or better, or just generally preferable on balance not to bring it up.”
“Ignorance is bliss,” I said. “When did you realize you wanted to leave?”
He flashed me a look. “When did you decide you were going to stay?”
I shook my head, rueful. “How did we get onto something this deep, so quickly?”
“I mean, possibly the only two gay guys from home?” Flynn shrugged. “What else are we going to talk about?”
“I guess it’s not like I have anyone else to discuss this stuff with, back there.” Saying that felt disloyal, somehow, to Catherine and Kyle. “Not who really understands it, anyway. But you must have gay friends here? Or there’s William?”
He drained his glass. Set it back down on the ring of condensation it’d slowly sweated. “Sure. And they understand the growing-up-gay part. Just not the growing-up-gay-in-the-sticks part.”
I gestured to the bartender; pointed at Flynn’s empty glass and my near-finished bottle. “I feel like it’d have been easier. If I’d known about you, I mean.”
“Bit presumptuous,” he teased, eyebrow raised.
I shook my head. “I didn’t mean like that.” Then tried to forget the fact that he’d seen me naked. Not just that: naked, hard, and fucking like a rutting animal.
By Flynn’s smirk, you could almost figure he was thinking of the same thing.
“Did you do anything?” He looked curious, now. “With other guys from school?”
I smiled, at the memory. “Danny Harrison. We were fifteen, and he was crashing at my place, telling me about his girlfriend and how she’d let him put a hand on her chest. Next thing you know, I look down, and it’s dark, but I can still make out Danny jerking off under the blanket. And so, y’know...”
“You sucked his dick?”
I snorted. “God, no. I jerked off too, listening to him do it, and then afterwards he got real earnest and told me that as long as we prayed hard at church, we wouldn’t go to hell for doing bad things.”
“Ah yes,” he said, rolling his eyes, “the old ‘get out of damnation free’ card.”
“That’s the one. Valid every Sunday, as long as supplies last.”
The bartender set down fresh drinks. I waited for Flynn to clink the rim of his glass against my bottle.
“What about you?” Now it was my turn to be curious. “Any clandestine hookups in your school days?”
Flynn shook his head, as he drank. “Nope. A hopeless virgin, until I moved away.”
“And then?”
The grin was positively wicked. “Then, I made up for lost time.” He laughed, at my raised eyebrow. “But you don’t want to hear about that, do you.”
The bottle felt cold against my lips. Grounding, somehow, even as I knew that the alcohol would only lower my inhibitions. “Absolutely not,” I lied.
He nodded, slowly. Still smirking; the expression of someone who knows your words aren’t to be trusted. “Have you thought about telling your parents?”
“Thought about it? Sure. And I invariably come to the conclusion that it’s a terrible idea.”
“So you sneak away to sleep with guys instead.” His expression was mischievous.
I gave him a pointed look. “Who’s sneaking? I’m not a kid any more.”
Flynn glanced down at my crotch. “Yeah, I saw that.”
Scolding him only seemed like it would encourage him. I took another gulp of beer, feeling the cold score its way down to my belly. Grateful, in that moment, for the distraction.
“Do you ever date?” He was still grinning.
“Long distance?”
A shrug.
“Too much effort,” I continued. “It’s not like anyone on the apps is looking for anything that serious.”
“Just sex.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, smiling myself. “And long-distance stuff is...”
“Complicated?”
I nodded. “Yeah, exactly.”
“But are you open to a relationship?”
Frowning, I nudged him in the arm with my bottle. “Are you trying to set me up with someone? One of William’s previous conquests?”
Flynn laughed. “Not at all. Nothing like that.”
I took a swig. “Good. What already happened this weekend is weird enough.”
He glanced away as he drank. “It’s not weird, Oli. It’s just...”
“Let’s eat,” I interrupted.
He eyed me warily. “Okay.”
Holding his gaze would only encourage him to keep talking, and it was a topic I didn’t feel remotely ready to broach again. Tipping my head back, instead, I drained the bottle. Set it down on the bar.
“Come on, then,” I told him, and headed for the door.