Chapter One #4
After Brandon, Kenny was the second person he came out to, and though Brandon said he’d known long before, Kenny had been clueless.
Maybe with him and Kenny being seventeen at the time, Kenny hadn’t been ready to hear him discuss his first experience with another guy, Aaron, whose body of energy and muscle made him fully acknowledge what he needed to be happy and satisfied in life.
Kenny seemed to accept it better now, but to spare him, he didn’t divulge the full details of what happened between him and other men when he and Brandon went out, and he would never ask Kenny to join them at the clubs.
“You really need to start desensitizing him a little more,” Brandon said.
“What’re you going to do if one of these days you meet a guy you really like and you want to start a relationship?
Oh, sorry. I forgot who I was talking to.
Guy, girl, or blow-up doll, you’ve never spent a full night with any, so what am I talking about relationships for? ”
“You’re not exactly Captain Monogamous, so I don’t know why you’re ragging on me.”
Brandon hushed his voice, concern edged his tone. “I know, but after the last time we went out and you vanished on me, I want to make sure you’re always being careful. When I didn’t know where you went, it freaked me out.”
“I don’t know why. It’s not like I ever go home with anyone. If I did, I’d have to call you and put my cell on speaker because it’d be so weird not having you at my hip.”
“I’m just trying to watch out for you.”
Jesse stopped and faced him. “And I appreciate it, but you know I’m always careful and you also know my limit.”
“For now. In the right situation with the right guy, that’ll change real quick.”
“And then I’ll be even more careful.”
A doubtful look crossed Brandon’s face.
Jesse ignored Brandon’s look and climbed the concrete stairs to Brandon’s building.
He headed inside to the elevator, closed the rickety metal gate after Brandon entered, and hit the button for the fourth floor.
The elevator creaked its way up, and they stepped out to Brandon’s apartment directly across the hall.
Brandon unlocked his door, and Jesse followed him into the studio apartment, his eyes falling on a large, serene sculpture of a meditating Buddha sitting in one corner.
He walked across the living area to a small jolly Hotei statue atop the TV and rubbed the Japanese deity’s fat belly for good luck.
On either side of the TV, two towers held fifty DVDs each, both full.
In front of the towers sat two milk crates containing the overflow.
Jesse grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch. “You collect movies like I collect CDs.”
Brandon’s voice echoed in the bathroom over the running water. “Comes with the trade. Gotta study the art, you know?”
“Yeah? So what’s up with all the anime?”
“Maybe I’ll try being a voice actor someday.”
“Or maybe you just like watching cartoons,” Jesse teased.
“Hey! Instead of sitting on your lazy ass, why don’t you fold my laundry on the bed?”
Jesse shot a glare over his shoulder toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you fold your own damn laundry?”
“Why don’t you pay for your own damn dinner?”
Jesse exhaled an irritated sigh. He sat on the couch for another moment before getting up and stomping across the hardwood floor to the little nook where Brandon kept his bed and dresser opposite from the bathroom.
He grabbed the blue plastic laundry basket by its broken handle and dumped Brandon’s clothes on the bed.
He picked up a dark maroon button down shirt and a pair of black dress pants, walked to Brandon’s closet to hang them and heard the water turn off in the bathroom.
He moved back to the bed, flicking a pair of Brandon’s boxer-briefs away with his index finger.
“You know, we haven’t lived together for three months. I thought my days of having to see your nasty ass underwear were done.”
A wet towel flew out of the bathroom toward him, but fell short and slid across the floor.
Brandon walked out of the bathroom in a pair of jeans, snatching the towel off the floor on his way to the bed.
He reached toward Jesse and grabbed the sleeve of the shirt he wore, rubbing the material between his thumb and index finger.
“This is a cool shirt. Why do you have to be built like a damn munchkin? I never could wear any of your clothes.”
“Suck it!” Jesse threw the shirt he was getting ready to fold at Brandon and headed toward the bathroom. “You got anything that can cover this bruise?”
“I’m an actor. What do you think?”
“That you’re a lot more gay than me,” Jesse snickered.
“Asshole,” Brandon laughed. “There’s some foundation under the sink. But hurry your ass up, Cinderella. By the time you’re done primping, the ball will be over and the Prince will be in bed with someone else.”
“Somehow I doubt I’ll find my prince in Boystown.”
Brandon held up the shirt, trying to decide if he wanted to wear it. “You never know. The man of your dreams could pop up when you’re least expecting it.”