you think you’ve done something wrong. As much as I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t wrong, when we were both consenting adults and we weren’t hurting anybody but ourselves, it still didn’t help.
Carey came back into the room. I didn’t turn to face him. He came around the bed to my side.
He’d put on a fresh pair of shorts, I noticed. He stood there waiting for me to look at him. I couldn’t. When I didn’t, he crouched down.
He had a washcloth in his hand. “Let me clean you up.” He offered.
“No! I can do it,” I rushed. He handed me the warm cloth and thankfully he moved away. I wiped myself up, grabbed my sweats, then went into the bathroom myself. I tossed the cloth and pulled on my pants. I took my time and threw cold water on my face before returning.
Carey was no longer in the bedroom. I went looking for him and found him in the kitchen. I walked up behind him and placed my forehead between his shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry.”
He inhaled, then exhaled. “Why are you sorry?”
“Well, I don’t know, really.”
He turned. “You can’t even look at me.”
“But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
Carey waited until my gaze met his, and even then, I kind of slouched, angling my head, looking up through my lashes.
“How can you say that it has nothing to do with me?”
He started to walk away. I’d hurt him and I felt like shit about many things.
“Care…don’t…” I followed him. “I’m sorry that I’m a jerk. I thought I could handle this. But it might take me some time. I’ve been under the impression, my whole life that I’m straight, so imagine my surprise that I’m having these feelings for you and that I can’t believe we did what we just did together. We weren’t just playing video games there, Care.”
“You can stop worrying. You’re not gay.”
“Then what the fuck am I? Bi?”
“No, I don’t think so. You don’t want to do other men. Just me, and we’re still not certain about that.”
“What the hell is happening then?”
“You’re just… searching. It’s what we all do. Come on, let’s go back to bed.” He grabbed my wrist and I followed him back into the bedroom.
We lay down, he patted his chest and I placed my head there, watching the TV but not really paying attention to what was on. I had so many things running through my head. Carey stroked his fingers softly up and down my arm. This was what I wanted—to be close to him. I slid my hand over his ribs, to his shoulder, then back and again, rubbing him.
“Hey, what’d you mean earlier, when you told me to use the same rhythm on you? Was that your way of saying that you know I jerk off, is that what you were getting at?” I leaned up on my elbow to look at him, trying not the laugh, not only from the humour in it, but from slight embarrassment as well.
He chuckled. “I know you jerk off, Bryan.”
“How?”
“Well, all guys do.”
“But that’s not what you meant, is it?”
He gave me that lopsided grin of his. “You’re not exactly quiet,” he said, conspiratorially.
“Oh God!” I put my head back on his chest and it rumbled under my ear.
Carey continued to razz me. “All that slapping flesh, and deep groaning.”
“I do not!”
“Ya do too.” He laughed.
“What, and you don’t jack off?”
“I just told you all guys do. But I’ve been on a streak lately, I haven’t had to do for myself. You’ve gone through a bit of a dry spell.” He was laughing loudly by now.
“You fucker, I haven’t even been here!” I pulled his arm to yank him over and we started to wrestle like we’d always done, but this time it turned sexual in an instant. One minute each of us was trying to gain the upper hand and the next I had my tongue in his mouth. This time I was on top of him. I straddled his hips, still trying to assert my dominance over him.
But he’d given up the fight and reached for my growing erection. This time when he
Carey came back into the room. I didn’t turn to face him. He came around the bed to my side.
He’d put on a fresh pair of shorts, I noticed. He stood there waiting for me to look at him. I couldn’t. When I didn’t, he crouched down.
He had a washcloth in his hand. “Let me clean you up.” He offered.
“No! I can do it,” I rushed. He handed me the warm cloth and thankfully he moved away. I wiped myself up, grabbed my sweats, then went into the bathroom myself. I tossed the cloth and pulled on my pants. I took my time and threw cold water on my face before returning.
Carey was no longer in the bedroom. I went looking for him and found him in the kitchen. I walked up behind him and placed my forehead between his shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry.”
He inhaled, then exhaled. “Why are you sorry?”
“Well, I don’t know, really.”
He turned. “You can’t even look at me.”
“But that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
Carey waited until my gaze met his, and even then, I kind of slouched, angling my head, looking up through my lashes.
“How can you say that it has nothing to do with me?”
He started to walk away. I’d hurt him and I felt like shit about many things.
“Care…don’t…” I followed him. “I’m sorry that I’m a jerk. I thought I could handle this. But it might take me some time. I’ve been under the impression, my whole life that I’m straight, so imagine my surprise that I’m having these feelings for you and that I can’t believe we did what we just did together. We weren’t just playing video games there, Care.”
“You can stop worrying. You’re not gay.”
“Then what the fuck am I? Bi?”
“No, I don’t think so. You don’t want to do other men. Just me, and we’re still not certain about that.”
“What the hell is happening then?”
“You’re just… searching. It’s what we all do. Come on, let’s go back to bed.” He grabbed my wrist and I followed him back into the bedroom.
We lay down, he patted his chest and I placed my head there, watching the TV but not really paying attention to what was on. I had so many things running through my head. Carey stroked his fingers softly up and down my arm. This was what I wanted—to be close to him. I slid my hand over his ribs, to his shoulder, then back and again, rubbing him.
“Hey, what’d you mean earlier, when you told me to use the same rhythm on you? Was that your way of saying that you know I jerk off, is that what you were getting at?” I leaned up on my elbow to look at him, trying not the laugh, not only from the humour in it, but from slight embarrassment as well.
He chuckled. “I know you jerk off, Bryan.”
“How?”
“Well, all guys do.”
“But that’s not what you meant, is it?”
He gave me that lopsided grin of his. “You’re not exactly quiet,” he said, conspiratorially.
“Oh God!” I put my head back on his chest and it rumbled under my ear.
Carey continued to razz me. “All that slapping flesh, and deep groaning.”
“I do not!”
“Ya do too.” He laughed.
“What, and you don’t jack off?”
“I just told you all guys do. But I’ve been on a streak lately, I haven’t had to do for myself. You’ve gone through a bit of a dry spell.” He was laughing loudly by now.
“You fucker, I haven’t even been here!” I pulled his arm to yank him over and we started to wrestle like we’d always done, but this time it turned sexual in an instant. One minute each of us was trying to gain the upper hand and the next I had my tongue in his mouth. This time I was on top of him. I straddled his hips, still trying to assert my dominance over him.
But he’d given up the fight and reached for my growing erection. This time when he
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