Chapter 13 #3
But Randall didn’t follow me, either clothed or naked, into the bed. He sat down on it instead and put his head in his hands.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked in frustration.
“Oh, I have a few ideas about what you can do with a naked man in your bed, but I’m open to suggestions.”
“What was I thinking?” he bemoaned.
“I thought we were trying not to think,” I replied softly.
“Yeah, well, I think we need to think! We need to think about your parents and our age difference and my isolated life and your promising future.”
He was voicing valid concerns, of course.
Concerns I was maybe trying not to think about even as feelings for the man bloomed and grew out of the knot my insides had become.
I closed my eyes, picturing those blooming feelings.
Was it a lovely flower growing inside me or a choking vine?
I realized, possibly in that moment, or possibly it had been slowly growing and blooming since the moment I first saw him: I knew which I wanted it to be, crazy though the notion may have been because he was absolutely right; he was my parents’ friend.
Even if he weren’t, he was years older than me.
I must be just some kid to him, someone to pass the time with, like we’d said.
But then his last words registered. Promising future.
Could he be thinking about something more than what we could get up to until the storm ended and our little snow globe shattered?
What would that look like? How could it work?
Mom, Dad, meet my boyfriend. He’s exactly the same age as you, and funny story, I think you went to the same college!
Oh? You thought he was here as your friend? You didn’t know he was gay?
“Randall?” I sighed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and encouraging him to lie down next to me. After a few awkward moves, he was nestled in my arms under the blankets.
“You're naked,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I lifted myself up as I said, “I was going for sexy fun; I’ll go grab those sweatpants.”
Randall turned into me, weighing me down as he swung a leg over mine and put his head back in the crook of my arm. “No, don’t. We can … If you want.”
He didn’t sound unwilling, but he certainly didn’t sound enthused.
“No, absolutely not. I was promised a nap.” I snuggled down, ignoring how that dragged my dick against his sweatpants-clad leg.
“Austin.”
“I didn’t mean to freak you out, Randall.”
“Oh, you didn’t. I managed to do that all on my own. I get in my head, sometimes. Ignore what I said, well, most of it anyway. I know this is just supposed to be a hookup. Like my time in Boston …” He trailed off.
“I bet a guy like you cleaned up in Boston.” I wrapped my arms more tightly around him, hoping he would talk it out.
“Here’s the thing, Austin. I was never really with anyone else before I met my husband.” He paused, waiting for my reaction. I simply held him tighter and nodded above his head. If he was expecting a dramatic or surprised response, I guess I was a disappointment.
“I mean, there were a few times in college and a couple of guys when I first got to London, but I’d never even given a blow job before I met David.
I’d never done more than hand jobs with another guy.
Hell, I’d hardly ever even kissed anyone.
He was my first everything. And we were together for so long. ”
That did get a bit of a reaction out of me. I sat up, and he followed, though he stuck to my side. Concern in my voice, I asked, “Does that mean you’ve not been with anyone else since?”
“Well, no. You were right about the city. I was in a new town, a stranger, newly single. I went to bars occasionally and managed to have one guy up to my hotel room when I first got there. But that’s just not me, Austin.
I’m not the type. I thought I could be when I left David.
Wanted to be, even. New city, hell, new country, new me! ”
He wasn’t the type of guy who’d be into hookups. I felt that was something I should have gleaned. Actually, deep down I think I had understood it.
“Oh God. I’m so sorry, Randall.”
“What on earth for?”
“We shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have talked you into this!”
“It’s not your fault.” He sat up straight, resolve in his tone. “And you didn’t talk me into anything! It’s not your fault that it means more to me than it does to you. I thought I could try again. And I wanted to, really wanted to, with you.”
“But it’s complicated because of who I am,” I said matter-of-factly.
Shit. All I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and make it all better, but the one thing that wasn’t going to make it better was having his best friend’s naked son in his bed.
“I get it. You were trying to experiment with a little hookup fun, but I’m too complicated for a hookup.
Because …” I began. It was time to deal with the two elephants in the room—my parents.
“Because of the way you make me feel,” he said, and had I not paused before finishing my sentence about my parents, I’m sure I never would have heard it. He swung out of the bed and stomped down the stairs.