15. Dylan
15
DYLAN
I t was early evening by the time we got back to the hotel, and no one seemed to have returned. Or at least they didn’t respond when Brad knocked on their doors to see if we were doing anything that night. It was just as likely they were all too occupied getting busy in the Roman rooms they didn’t want to hang out with their hanger-on friends.
We had wishes and roses and pizza, so who were the real losers?
“I guess it’s still just us,” Brad said with a shrug as he came in, closing the door behind him.
“Yep, we were right. Couples trip. They should have given us the chance to stay at home if they were just going to do this,” I snorted. Not that I was surprised, of course. That was the problem when all of your friends were partnered up. You either got used to intruding or doing things alone.
“Would you have stayed home if they had?” Brad tilted his head curiously.
I swallowed, shrugging. “Probably not. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to see these things, so I’m glad. Plus, you know, it’s good to spend time with you, anyway.” I wanted to finish the thought, to say that it would be nice to spend it with him before we graduated and who knew how long it would be before I saw him or any of them again.
A smile broke out over his face. “Please, you’ll be a big music producer and they’ll invite you to all their very cool Irish castles and French villas to help them out.”
“I think Italy is the one with villas, France has chateaus.”
He laughed, the deep voice filling the room so unselfconsciously, even when he got something wrong. “My bad.”
I hummed. “Maybe, yeah, but that might not be for a long time, anyway.”
“Then I’ll take you. I’m glad we came too, though. I wouldn’t want to miss this.”
Would I be needy if I asked if it would be the same without me? If part of the reason he wanted to be here was for me?
I couldn’t do that, though. He’d made himself clear when we were at the festival. We were friends, and that was it, and we wouldn’t be more.
“I’m gonna shower,” Brad said and disappeared into the bathroom.
Did he know what I was thinking? Was this his plan to escape? Smarter than he looked, I guess.
Sighing, I flipped through the channels on the Italian TV. Was this going to end up just like the other night? I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t jilted. I’d come to a very simple realization that I needed to accept.
A hint of a smile came to my face as I found a horror movie from the 90s. It had Italian subtitles, but at least it was something we got. Brad and I both loved horror movies — Shane thought they were dumb and Theo was indifferent. He’d watch them if they were on, but he wouldn’t go out of his way. This was our thing, though.
We were halfway through the second installment of the series when I brought it up. We’d both showered and were in the bed in our pajamas. I didn’t know what else was planned along this trip, so it was nice to have a quiet moment or two. Berlin was going to be all about the festival, which wouldn’t be even a little quiet.
“Brad? I had a thought.”
He turned, eyebrows raised slightly. “What’s up?”
“You…like kissing me, right?” I said it plainly. This wouldn’t go well if I started investing too much into choosing my words. If I drew it out too much, I’d send Brad into one of his overthinking spirals.
His eyes widened in surprise, and a shoulder lifted. “I mean…yeah.” He looked uncomfortable.
Yeah, but what? Not in front of anyone? Not enough to do it more? Did he feel the butterflies I felt when we kissed? Did he feel the heat in his cheeks, the yearning somewhere inside him?
Quieting the doubts and questions in my head, I nodded. “Well…uh, okay. We’re on this trip together. Maybe we should…let this be beneficial for us both.” I was going to define the terms if he wasn’t.
“Uh…what? Why are you making this sound like a business transaction?” The corner of his lips tugged, but he seemed to think better of smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Could he actually be this clueless? I knew him better than that — he was being intentionally dense so he could have an out. Regret bubbled in my chest, and I sighed. “Forget it.” I turned back to the TV.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brad’s mouth open and close, searching for the words, but I wished he wouldn’t bother.
“Dyl…I mean…I’m just a little confused. Beneficial?”
“I said forget it. It’s not a big deal.” I refused to look away from the TV. This was easily the most humiliated I’d felt in a while, and my chest burned. I was used to being ignored, used to having people think I was strange, but to have Brad brush me off in the most dense way imaginable was downright insulting. It would have been less so if he just came right out and said no.
A long silence stretched between us. The horror movie continued to play, but neither of us said anything. By the time the credits rolled, I resigned to just going back to normal with him tomorrow, forgetting anything had ever happened between us.
Suddenly, a hand came to my thigh, and I glanced down at it. Brad’s warmth moved in, and almost before I knew it, he pressed his lips against mine. I gasped into the kiss, wondering where the hell it came from. Hadn’t we just gone over this? Hadn’t he wanted to play stupid?
I pulled back. “Stop that.”
His hand squeezed my thigh. “I’m sorry…I panicked. I’m not used to this, Dyl…”
“You’re not used to being a dick? That’s news.” Shit, I sounded like Shane.
His eyes widened again, shock taking over. “Okay, I get it. I hurt your feelings…I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine, really. I’m being an ass now.”
“Dyl, I do like kissing you…and anything else. I just…you know, I don’t know how everyone would react, I guess,” he explained, looking like a shy kid who’d been told off for playing with some forbidden toys.
So that was it — he was focusing on what everyone else thought. It wasn’t about me or his own feelings. I didn’t even want to get into the feelings situation, because there weren’t any. Not like that, I guess. Just that he was avoiding even discussing what happened between us.
“No one needs to know…” I heard myself saying before I’d stopped myself. “Don’t get a big head. I was just talking about fucking. Just while we’re on this couple’s trip, just for the summer.”
I could see the look of guilt, maybe questioning, maybe even hesitation on his face. Why the fuck had I said that? It would have been better to just leave it alone, to keep it at just friends and nothing more. It’s what we’d been doing for years now, right? Why did it have to change?
“A friends with benefits situation?” he asked, and didn’t sound repulsed.
“Whatever, yeah.”
There seemed to be something comforting there. In saying that no one needed to know about us, in confirming nothing more needed to be expected from him than the occasional fuck. I watched as his face softened, as it calmed back into that usual golden retriever expression I knew so well.
“Yeah, I mean…that would be okay. I do like kissing you, you know.” His hand squeezed my thigh again.
I nodded and leaned in, not wanting to talk anymore. We’d done enough of that, and I didn’t know how it felt. He wasn’t going anywhere. I’d have to take that for what it was. As he laid me down on the pillows, I let my thoughts drift away from the whole situation. It didn’t matter.
His tongue caressed my skin, and I sighed into the sensation, relaxing as I closed my eyes. His hands slid along my body, and I took in the way he felt along me, like he couldn’t get enough. That was all it was, a little release with someone who was safe and comfortable.
If he found other people to fuck, that wasn’t my concern. All I needed to think about was now — the sensation of his fingers pressing inside me and his heavy weight resting on me. As I moaned, it almost became a low background murmur.
When he filled me up with his thick girth, I was left gasping and clutching onto him for support, all thoughts focused on how good it felt.
That’s all this was. Mindless pleasure with a friend.
So what if it made my head and my chest do all kinds of funny things?