Chapter Ten

Jeff Martin had never claimed to be a courageous man.

That being said, it was quite easy for him to let one missed tutoring session with Cam turn into two, but he knew he couldn’t miss another one. Jeff didn’t want this whole ordeal with Luke impacting Cam’s grades or any of the college applications they’d started working on together. Plus, Cameron was starting to look at him with slightly hurt and betrayed eyes. He was probably wondering what he did wrong to piss Jefferson off so much. It sent a white-hot knife of guilt through his spine during every single rehearsal.

So, Jeff found himself leaving his apartment, driving down the familiar road, and walking down the familiar walkway until he was standing in front of Luke’s and Cam’s front door. Even though he planned to be long gone by the time Luke got off work, Jeff had still worn his nicest shirt and spent an extra ten minutes on his hair. He couldn’t help himself. It was like he was asking for the universe to throw him an emotional curveball.

Cam answered the door faster than normal. He was dressed in his usual weekend garb of basketball shorts and a band tee. At least the weather was starting to warm up a bit, making the look slightly more appropriate. Cam smiled nervously at him but tried to play it off as no big deal. Jeff noticed though. He always noticed. He could read teenagers the way Katherine could read everyone else. It’d be a really useless skill if he wasn’t a teacher.

“Hey Mr. M,” Cam said, pulling the door open and beckoning him inside. “Thanks for coming.”

Jeff wiped his feet on the mat and followed Cam into the dining room.

“Of course,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been busy the last couple of weeks. I haven’t had the chance to talk to your teachers either. Is there anything new that you seem to be having trouble with?”

“English,” Cam said with disdain. “Mr. Rodriguez started a new unit last week and I basically haven’t understood a single word of it.”

Jeff sat down, feeling momentarily excited. He’d finally get to help Cam with the subject that he actually taught.

“What’s the unit about?” he asked.

“Eighteenth century poetry.”

Jeff winced internally.

“So, romanticism then?”

Cam shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Perfect. Just what Jeff needed. A full afternoon of teaching deeply emotional poetry to the son of his secret lover. Watered down romance poetry at that. Insert all the internal eye rolls here.

Things were just about as awkward as he’d expected. Rodriguez had indeed chosen to focus on romanticism, despite that being more of a nineteenth century thing. Not only that, but he’d chosen to focus on poems that were actually romantic in nature; probably so that the students wouldn’t get confused. Jeff kept reciting the poems and picturing Luke, only to glance up and see Cam’s slightly similar, but completely wrong face instead. Nevertheless, he went into full blown teacher mode and persevered.

Looking over Cam’s assignment sheets made Jeff infinitely glad that he wasn’t teaching the remedial class. The way Rodriguez was teaching the kids to dissect a poem was basically criminal. Not to mention, that it would only prove effective if the poem stuck to a traditional format, which most great ones never did. Jeff emphasized this point to Cam several different times.

“Every poem is different,” he said. “Two poets could talk about the same subject matter and use completely conflicting words to mean the same thing.”

“Then how am I supposed to figure it out?” Cam whined.

“Historical context is a big thing in poetry. That’s why we teach it by the century. For eighteenth century poets in particular, there tends to be a lot of talk of revolution, which needs to be looked at through the lens of a newly independent America. If someone like Philip Freneau talks about freedom, he most likely is referring to freedom from the monarchy, and not freedom in the physical sense like Phillis Wheatley, who was a slave. Does that make sense?”

Cam nodded.

“Good,” Jeff continued. “You’ll also probably come across some Gothic poetry in this unit, but you shouldn’t worry about it too much. It’s basically like really old sci-fi and fantasy stuff. The hardest part with those is just deciphering the language. Read them really carefully and you should be fine. And the other big thing you need to know about eighteenth century poetry is that it gave birth to the romantic era. People like Lord Byron and William Wordsworth, who focused more on the individual emotions of people rather than events and other outside influences. Think of these dudes as like, the precursor to hipsters. They did their own thing and refused to be inspired by anything that was popular at the time.”

Jeff glanced down at Cam and saw that he’d written “romantic era =hipsters” on his notes. He cracked a smile and continued talking.

“Now as far as breaking these poems down, think of them the way you’d think of a song,” Jeff said, appealing to Cam’s love of music. “Maybe even try to sing them if you can. Pay attention to the punctuation and how words are spelled and how the lines are split up. Look closely at the title in relation to the “lyrics” and try your best to figure out who’s singing the song and what they’re singing about and why. If you can do all that, then you should be able to figure out what the poet is trying to tell you.”

Cam was tapping his pen on the table and looking at Jeff skeptically. 

“Yeah, but it can’t really be that simple can it?”

Jeff closed his eyes and wracked his mind for an example, something dear to him that he knew by heart. His cogs stuck on a short piece by Samuel Taylor Coleridge of which he’d always been fond.

“Where true Love burns Desire is Love’s pure flame,” he sang in a low warble as the words floated back to him. He hadn’t really meant it to, but it came out to the tune of Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire,” so he just decided to go with it. “It is the reflex of our earthly frame...That takes its meaning from the nobler part, but translates the language of the heart.”

Cam gave an amused chuckle and Jeff smiled back. He opened his mouth ready to ask what he thought of the poem, but was interrupted by the sound of clapping behind him. His heart leapt out of his chest and he saw Luke standing in the archway behind them, smiling and clapping his hands.

“Those are some impressive pipes you’ve got there, Jefferson,” he teased.

Jeff’s face went red and he fought the urge to sink down in his chair. Luke was wearing jeans and a dirty white V-neck that clung to his sweat-dampened skin. His hands were a slightly darker tan than the rest of his skin and there was a black splotch of oil just above his right eyebrow. There were several, age-blackened rags hanging out of his pockets.

“I thought you were at work?” Jeff squeaked out.

Luke shook his head and moved further into the room.

“Nope. I took the day off to work on some of the personal projects that have been piling up in my shed. I’ve been back there pretty much all day. I didn’t even hear you pull up.”

Luke was giving him this weird piercing look, as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to say. It was making Jeff nervous, because he didn’t know what to say either. The three of them existed in awkward silence for several minutes before Luke finally asked Cam to go upstairs and give Jeff and him a moment. Cam mumbled something about them talking about him behind his back, but he did as he was told. Jeff wanted to call after him and tell him to keep studying while he was up there, but his mouth felt dryer than the Sahara Desert. Luke didn’t look back at him until he heard the telltale sound of Cam shutting his door and turning on his music. The song was muffled, but familiar. Some punk band from the mid 2000’s that Sarah had always liked.

“Your kid has interesting taste in music,” Jeff said in an attempt to draw attention away from himself.

Luke didn’t miss a beat.

“Yeah. He sure does.” He crossed his arms across his broad chest. “So, what’s going on with us, Jefferson?”

Jeff inhaled through his nostrils and tried to focus on Luke’s shoulders instead of his face. The other man was still standing over him in all his sexy, greasy glory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied.

Luke exhaled and was quiet for a moment. Jeff couldn’t resist the temptation and glanced up to meet his eyes. Luke looked as though he was debating something in his mind. Eventually he knelt down so that they were on the same level and grabbed hold of Jeff’s hand. He interlaced their fingers and gave a little squeeze that made the lower half of Jeff’s body turn to jelly. It was a good thing he was sitting down.

“This,” Luke whispered, lifting their joined hands. “Us.”

Jeff felt like he couldn’t move or speak. He looked away and licked his lips nervously.

“We’re fine,” he said finally. His voice sounded as though he’d just swallowed a cactus.

“Don’t lie to me,” Luke said. “You get all spazzy when you lie. I’ve been waiting for you to drop by so I could talk to you, but you’ve been avoiding me. Again. Look, I’m sorry if I did something wrong but I—”

“No!” Jeff cut him off immediately. The shouted word hung in the air between them for several minutes. Jeff got worried that Cam might have heard it, but when the music kept filtering down from upstairs he lowered his volume and continued.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, I just...I shouldn’t have slept with you. It’s not appropriate. I see your son almost every day. I care about him and his well-being and I don’t want things to be weird and I don’t want to betray his trust in me. I should have shown some restraint. I think it’s very clear by now that I like you, so for that I apologize. I know you probably didn’t mean anything by it. It won’t happen again.”

Jeff hung his head, resigned. He thought he might feel better with the words out in the open, but he just felt sick to his stomach.

“But what if I want it to happen again?” Luke asked, voice tight.

Jeff looked down at him, confused.

“What?”

Luke worked his jaw. He looked angry now, but was trying not to show it.

“What about that night made you think that I didn’t mean anything by it?”

Jeff swallowed.

“Well—”

“It’s not like I was drunk. I remember everything I said to you that night. I meant every word. I’m not some damsel in distress that you took advantage of. I wanted it too. Why the hell do you think I invited you out to the bar in the first place?”

Jeff felt like he literally might faint. This handsome man was going to be the death of him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had seemed to care about him this much. He’d given Luke several outs, but he refused to take them. It was like he was determined to make Jeff fall hopelessly in love with him.

“So, that night,” Jeff began. “It wasn’t intended to be a one-night stand?”

Luke shook his head and laughed.

“I married my first ever serious girlfriend. I don’t do one-night stands.”

Luke paused to adjust his weight and then opened his mouth to say something else, but Jeff was already kissing him. Luke’s eyes went wide for a second before falling closed. He melted into the kiss and it was like they were the only two people in the world. Jeff pulled back after a moment feeling wild and breathless. Luke was running one of his dirty hands through Jeff’s perfectly sculpted curls and Jeff didn’t even care.

“So, what are you saying exactly?” Jeff asked.

“I’m saying,” Luke intoned. “That I find you very sweet and attractive and that I would like to continue getting to know you better.”

“But Cam…” Jeff protested weakly.

“Doesn’t know I’m bisexual,” Luke said with a nod. “But I’d like to tell him eventually. Ideally before he graduates.”

“That’s not too far off,” Jeff reminded him.

Luke sighed wistfully and released some of that angry tension.

“I know,” he said. “It’s just sort of a big undertaking. He’s not homophobic or anything. I obviously wouldn’t tolerate that, but I don’t know how well versed he is in different aspects of the community and I don’t know how he’d react. He’s got this particular image of me in his head, I’m sure, and I don’t want to ruin it for him. Not unless I’m in a serious relationship with someone.”

Jeff was quiet for a moment. He still disagreed with the idea of Luke keeping his sexuality a secret from his son, but he could respect his decision. He knew better than anyone how coming out could change people's perception of you.

“Are you sure you’re ready to try for a serious relationship?” Jeff asked finally. “Because if you’re not, I’d rather not get my heart broken for the second time in less than six months.”

Luke didn’t even take a moment to consider it.

“I’m sure,” he said. “More sure than I’ve been of anything in a really long time.” He reached out and traced his fingers along Jeff’s jaw. “I like you a whole lot, Mr. Martin.”

Jeff tried to fight it, but his smile couldn’t help but shine through.

“I’m warning you,” he said. “I have a terrible track record with guys.”

Luke shrugged.

“Well my record with guys is almost non-existent, so I guess we’ll just have to take things one day at a time.”

Jeff tentatively lifted a hand and rested it against Luke’s chest. He could feel the quickened beating of the other man’s heart in his palm and the sensation gave him a small boost in confidence.

“I guess that means I should give you my phone number then.”

Luke laughed and pulled them both up into a standing position.

“I guess so,” he said, eyes smoldering, hands wandering to the small of Jeff’s back.

Jeff reached up and wrapped his arms around Luke’s neck to pull him closer.

“And I guess I should probably take you out on a proper date next weekend.”

“I’d like that,” Luke whispered, leaning in and capturing Jeff’s lips one more time.

They fell into an easy and intoxicating rhythm of making out, their bodies pressed firmly together, neither one of them concerned about the clueless teenager brooding upstairs; at least for the time being. Jeff felt whole and excited and at peace for once. It was a nice change of pace.

Then his eyes fluttered open as he remembered how close they were standing and just how stained up and dirty Luke was. Jeff broke away and looked down at himself with a grimace.

“Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, stiffening.

“I really liked this shirt,” Jeff said, despairingly pinching one of the new darkened spots between his fingers. He brought the fabric to his nose and sniffed it. “Is this motor oil? That’s definitely never coming out.”

Luke unleashed a radiant smile and unabashedly slipped his fingers into the back pockets of Jeff’s jeans. He gave his ass a playful little squeeze and said, “I’ll buy you a new one.”