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He glanced around, but his right hand was moving already. “Does this feel sarcastic?” His hand found my cock and gave it a surprisingly firm squeeze.
Air drained from my lungs. I managed a little gasp. “Nope. Nothing sarcastic about that.”
He licked his lips and stepped back, then lifted his sweater. “I’d love to have a date night.” He pulled his sweater on and put his hands on my hips, then pressed our bodies against one another. “I want to do everything with you, Sebastian.”
It was how we had always been, but it meant more when he said it now. And so we put on some nice clothes and sprayed ourselves with cologne a bit more than was strictly necessary and headed out to see the spectacle. Lovers’ Paradise was surprisingly tragic and yet romantic. It was as though my subconscious mind had picked the movie that dealt with homophobia as our first outing as a couple. After seeing Ellison on the silver screen and agreeing that he was a total catch, Tyler and I decided to walk back to campus. The night was warmer than any other this year and the faint scent of spring was in the air. Snow was melting quickly these days and the sky was clear and full of stars tonight.
We stopped at a bar on our way back. It was a standard-looking joint, neither bad nor great, but it had a bottle of wine for us to share and a table for two. Nobody knew us in here and nobody cared. So when I dared put my hand over Tyler’s on the table between us, he looked up at me with a smile on his lips and in his eyes. “That’s nice,” he said.
I was silent for a little while, looking at him in the dim ambiance. “What if that’s all I can give?”
“Is it?” he asked, his tone not revealing what he thought.
I shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
He pulled his hand away from mine, and my heart was about to sink, but then he covered mine with his so firmly that there was no mistaking his commitment to me. “I don’t care if we’re discreet. Or if we march at the head of the pride parade. Or if we’re selective about who knows what.” His words took away the anxiety that seemed to be returning no matter what. We both knew we couldn’t spend our lives like that, but his willingness to pretend that we could was endearing. “If it’s us against the world, Sebastian, I’ll always choose us.”
I blinked and forced the euphoria down. This was not the place to leap across the table and kiss him silly. “This is why we’re best friends. You always get it.”
He smiled. We enjoyed a few good sips of wine and talked about the crazy events of the movie and the surprisingly erotic scenes that had us both flustered. “Not sure if turned on is the right way to call it,” Tyler said. “But I didn’t dislike watching it.”
I pointed out that the guy who served drinks in one scene was supposedly Ellison’s real-life partner and Tyler thought that was a cute, if obscure, piece of information. We had both seen the steady rise to fame of the film’s leading man, who had a particular love for indie production even though his good looks promised him action movie stardom.
Then, when silence settled comfortably between us, Tyler asked, “Do you miss Jennifer?”
After a momentary surprise, I laughed it off. “To be honest, I forgot all about her.”
Tyler twirled his invisible mustache. “So my plan is working.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “All of this just to get me distracted?”
His shoulders shook with laughter. “You got me.” He raised his hands in surrender. “And I’ll keep distracting you more and more and more.”
“Forever and ever,” I said. It was spoken as a joke, but as the words rolled off my tongue, we caught each other’s gazes. On the table, Tyler’s index finger hooked under mine, and he looked deep into my eyes as if wondering whether or not I meant what I said.
“That sounds like a really good future,” he said softly.
That future flashed before my eyes as his index finger gripped mine. It would be a fine life; Tyler waking up in my arms every morning, his face being the first thing I would see. We’d have morning coffee together on the porch. Oh, we would have a porch and a house that came with it. And we’d have a nice wooden table with garden recliners to kick back and start the day right. Our lawn would be trimmed and bright green and the weather would always be just right. I could smell the freshly cut grass and the sweat on my bare chest after the day’s work, but Tyler wouldn’t mind. He’d wait for me on the porch with a couple of cold beers, pull me in despite my sweat and stink, and kiss me hard. It would turn him on. He’d say, “I’d have you like this if you weren’t a freak about keeping the sheets clean.” And I would laugh, lifting him off his feet and pressing him against the door. And then I would prove to him how I wasn’t a freak at all, rolling in a clean bed with grass stains and sweat and cum after we made love.
I blinked.
Tyler was there, looking at me. A heartbeat had passed since he’d spoken.
I cleared my throat. “We’ll make it good,” I said. “It’s gonna be the best.”
The smile that spread on his face, brightening him up, was worth every risk we were taking. It made my heart twice as big. I twined our fingers on the table and held his hand for a long time. We looked at one another, had our wine, and enjoyed the moment. I was hell-bent on making it last.
TWELVE
Tyler
With every day that passed, I seemed to get more used to it. With every game we won or lost, I seemed to get closer to Sebastian. With every trip to the gym or a secret late-night date, our old relationship seemed to shine a little brighter.
I hadn’t realized how big the consequences of that first kiss were until we relaxed, bit by bit, and got used to the new reality. It was slow going, but every inside joke or game of table soccer reminded us of who we were to one another, regardless of what we did to one another when the lights were out; or weren’t out. That was hot, too. I loved watching his dick throb in my hand, splatters of his passion smearing between our bodies. Day by day by day, we remembered that we were friends, too. We remembered that pleasuring each other and nurturing hopes for a life together didn’t make our friendship any less than. It was only a different sort of friendship now.
My loyalty to Sebastian had grown deeper, I thought. It felt as though I worried more when he clashed with a goddamn Blizzard Breaker or one of those vicious Vikings. My heart lurched harder when I saw Sebastian slammed against the boards or sprawled out on the ice after a particularly nasty collision. My thirst for revenge was stronger, too.
If anyone noticed how much more I tracked Sebastian’s on-ice position, they never said so. We had always been in tune with one another’s performance. We had always worked best as a defensive duo. When one of us sat through a period, the defenses were slightly weaker. Or so it seemed to me.
