Eliot Prince
I crouch in the bathroom closet, thinking to myself she knows. I’m positive she knows. That’s why this is taking so long. She’s confronting him, she figured us out, and it’s all over…
Finally Robert opens the door, that bathroom empty behind him. But he doesn’t kiss me or anything. He doesn’t even touch me, actually. He just turns away and lets me out.
“Did you hear?” he asks.
“No. Why?”
He doesn’t respond.
“What happened?” I ask, but he’s already leaving.
“Look, I’ve gotta get some sleep,” he says casually.
“You’re…you’re leaving? Why won’t you tell me what she said?”
He stops, his back to me. “I’m going back to my room. And…I need a breather. I’m sorry.”
“No. A breather? But-”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. “Look,” he finally says. “We’ll talk. I promise. But…yeah. I need a minute.”
By the time I try to get another word out, he’s already gone. But I can’t call after him. I can’t talk. In fact, I can’t even breathe.
What in the world was that?
Ten minutes later, I finally return to the table, still stunned into silence. David is still here, texting away, as always. Soon he glances over at me. “What’s the deal?”
“Huh?”
“What are you so…sad about?”
I wrap my arms around my chest, trying to think of what my mom could’ve possibly said to make Robert run like this. “Interesting question.”
“What?”
“Just…stop being selfish. At the end of the day, I’m still at my grandma’s funeral. Be nice to me.”
“And she wanted it to be a party, and it’s not, and you’re being weird.”
“Whatever.”
“It’s funny,” he says soon. “You avoid me for days, acting like I’m not even here, and yet I’m the one who’s being selfish.”
I try not to glare at him. “You wanted to come here, David.”
“I know I did,” he says. “Now, I wonder what I was thinking at all…”
After that unsettling conversation, I fall asleep with David huddled up annoyingly close to me. In my arms is David.
But inside my chest, deep where it really counts, there is only Robert.
I go through the motions, but all the next day I feel restless and confused and…just unlike myself, in every way. Because Robert still won’t talk to me, no matter what I do, no matter how many times I accidentally run into him. And I still have no idea what my mom did.
Ugh. We were just getting started. We were just getting over the hump. What happened? We can’t stop now. It doesn’t seem like my mom could actually know, as she was totally fine and normal all during breakfast. What’s the deal, then?
Finally I break down and text him: Hello?
He leaves me on “read,” and doesn’t respond.
Stop being a coward, I say. Either tell me the deal, or…well, I don’t have another option. Talk to me.
I can’t, he finally responds.
Can’t? I ask. Or won’t?
He starts typing, then stops. He never does finish.
That’s when I snap. I didn’t get to know him just for him to ditch me like this. We were both willing participants in the beginning. I knew what I was doing, and I asked for it. So why ditch me now?
I get more and more annoyed as I sit through a tennis game between David and my mother. They’re both awful, so there’s not much to watch, anyway, and I’m mostly left to my own thoughts. Ugh – to think I’m spending the week at my favorite place in the world, and I’m letting it all be ruined thanks to some man. Aren’t men just the worst?
Actually, I know one who isn’t too bad, and he’s right in front of me. David. Sure, I wasn’t heartbroken or shattered when we broke up, but then again, the thing I always liked about David is that it was never complicated. He just adored me, and that was that. Or…he used to, I guess. I pushed him away with my moods and my distance, just as I do with everyone, and he let me do it.
That’s maybe what draws me to Robert so much – whenever I’ve tried to shut down and shove him off, he comes back harder.
Until this. Until now. Ugh.
In fact, as I watch David I start to get a little horny. So he isn’t a Hemsworth brother – oh well. Our sex was always reliably good. It was never great, but who has great sex all the time, anyway? Married couples don’t. My mom has bitched about that in front of me more than once. Maybe I’m ignoring a good thing – maybe David was what I needed all along.
Regardless of whether he fucked around on me…
“Have you ever loved anyone?” I ask Gracie later that day, when we’re watching one of the little cousins swim in the lake.
“Um. I’ve loved vodka. And Fig Newtons. I don’t know about a person, though.”
“How do you know when you love someone?”
She sighs. “My mom said you love someone when you feel like you’re not yourself without them. And everyone I’ve dated, I’ve been fine without them. I preferred it, actually. Hence the vodka.”
This strikes me on a deep, visceral level – because when I’m not with Robert, I don’t care about anything else. I feel restless and distracted and worried. What does that mean?
That night I’m in bed trying to read a book when David walks out of the shower, dick flopping around and body glistening with water. I set down my Kindle as my cock springs to life.
All day that strange, horny feeling inside me has been building. I need to feel a connection with someone, a connection I am allowed to have, even if the bond between David is slipping away by the day. I want someone to want to put their hands on me, and actually do it. Because I am lonely. I am desperate. Everywhere in this house feels claustrophobic. I need a release. I need…well, sex. The real kind. I need my mouth on someone. I need someone inside me. I’m so fucking sick of being rejected.
In one swift movement, I get up, push David against the wall, drop to my knees, and greedily take his cock into my mouth.
“Whoa there,” he says. “That was fast.”
But I don’t stop. Mmmm, his cock isn’t bad at all. I keep forgetting how good our sex could be. I don’t feel explosive around him like I do around Robert, but I do feel…comfortable. Like I know I’m supposed to be here. Or was, at least.
“You like that, baby?” I ask as I suck him.
“You know I do.”
“Good.”
“Eliot,” he moans soon, “I thought you hated me.”
“David. I never hated you. I was – never mind. Just let me suck on your dick.”
I play with his tip and grasp his balls, imagining it’s Robert instead, and he’s groaning and warning me about how dangerous our liaison is. (God, my fantasies are getting weirdly elaborate.) I still can’t get him out of my head. So I spit on my thumb and circle David’s hole, imagining it’s Robert’s hole instead, hairy and wet for me…
But this isn’t enough. I need to fuck someone senseless.
“Get on the bed,” I order.
I lay him out, licking him from his toe up to the inside of his thigh as he moans and pulls at my hair. Fuck, I’m really going to miss these hookups, but what can I do? He’s the one who cheated. Then I move to his balls and his dick again. He always had a good dick – medium-sized, but no weird angles or anything. Still, it’s not Robert’s dick, big and veiny and hairy. I’ve never encountered someone who didn’t shave at all, like Robert, and it’s exotic as hell to me. Shit, maybe he even has patches of grey down there, too, like on his head…and now I’ll never find out, because he hates me…
Fuck. I need to stop thinking about my former stepdad like that. It’s weird. It might not be illegal, but still – it crosses a line. Right?
I slobber all over David’s tip and then plunge him into my throat, and as he groans I imagine it’s Robert instead. I imagine it’s his precum I’m tasting, his balls I’m playing with, his exhalations I’m hearing…
But even imagining it kind of breaks my heart, because he’s the one I actually want. If I could switch them out, I would. And that is terrifying.
And then suddenly I am not imagining anymore.
My eye catches a movement, and I glance up at something out of the window – and that’s when I discover that Robert’s room looks down into ours. And he is staring at us, in nothing but a towel from the gym. And that fat dick of his is showing through a slit in the middle.
And guess what? I don’t stop. I am emboldened by this new audience, because at least now Robert is paying attention to me. If he won’t text me back or acknowledge me in any other way, the least I can do is make him jealous, right?
I suck David harder and harder, glancing up at Robert as he watches. I’m pushing the limits and I like it. Robert’s mouth does an O shape, like he’s moaning, then he fully drops his towel to show me that beautiful body and perfect dick. I nod at him, signaling for him to jack it, and he does.
“What’s that?” David asks. “What do you keep looking at?”
“Nothing,” I say, grabbing his face and forcing him to keep looking at me, so he won’t see Robert. “A bird flew into the window. Poor thing. Anyway, I want to fuck you.”
He lets go of the window thing and smiles at me. “Really? You want to fuck me? You haven’t wanted that in weeks.”
For a moment I feel bad for him, genuinely bad. David still loves me, on some level. But then again, if he loved me, why did he go with that tourist to the W Hotel for a night of sleazy fun? He broke us, and I’m not going to pity him now that we’re in pieces.
“Well get ready,” I say. “I do, now. Badly.”
I lube up my dick, glancing at Robert to make sure he’s watching. He shakes his head at me, and it’s so authoritative it makes my whole body shiver. God, how long can we play this game before he just comes down here and plunges that thing into me? I want it, and I want it now. Even if it impales me.
I watch as Robert rubs his shaft. He angles his body a bit to show me his full length, and I go harder than a boulder. God, if I could just trade out David with Robert right now, and if I could just fuck who I really want to be fucking…
I get David in position and push my dick closer to his hole. This is the strangest thing, but I want to impress him – I want his approval. I get closer, closer, closer…
Then I stop, letting my shoulders fall. This feels all wrong. I want Robert. I don’t want David.
I lean back and wipe the lube off my dick.
“David,” I say. “Can you suck me before I fuck you?”
I know I’m going to orgasm from this, but I don’t care. Making sure Robert can see, I let David start sucking me until I get close to climax. Robert looks horrified, but horny, too. At the exact moment I come, I lock eyes with Robert in the window and shout a garbled word that sounds something like “RooooobshshshshshAHHHHH.”
Oh my God – I almost said Robert’s name.
“What was that?” David asks, my come dripping all over his chin. I lean down and kiss his cheek. “Nothing. That was just really hot. Thanks. Wanna shower up now?”
With that same weird look in his eyes, he nods and heads for the bathroom. Shaking it off, I jump off the bed and share one last stare with Robert – but this time, he looks sad. His eyes are full of longing, and his brow is all creased. And I’m sad, too, really. I’m sad we’re two people who like each other, and can’t pursue it. But the world has rules, right? And rules are made to be followed. That’s why they’re rules…
God. This is a mess, a total mess. The longer I’m away from Robert, the more I want him – and I even just turned a hookup session with David into being all about Robert, as usual. I mean, I just hooked up with the guy I brought on this trip, except in my head I made the entire thing about Robert instead. The whole thing! So clearly this thing isn’t going away. And Robert is still interested, too, or else he wouldn’t have watched me. I can sense that he’ll reach out again, I just don’t know when. And soon it might be too late.
That’s when I know it’s time to bring out the big guns: I need the advice of my gays. But not just Oz.
David falls asleep quickly, giving me the privacy I need. For the last three years or so, I’ve been a member of a Reddit subgroup called GayInTheDeepSouth. Some members are people I know in real life, some are anonymous accounts who are still closeted and use shell accounts to get the advice they’re too afraid to seek in reality. But one of the most important things about this life is seeking help from those who came before you, so whenever I need something figured out, I head straight here. And now I think I want to ask them about Robert. I wanted to ask them before, I was just afraid of being judged. But not anymore.
And maybe someone else has been in my shoes, too. I mean, this is the South we are talking about – I can’t be the only one who has fallen for a quasi-family member. Right?
Just to be funny, I type up a post in the form of one of those HELP ME! personal ads I used to see in the back of local magazines in the ‘90s:
Category: Love & Dating
Posting Title: Help, I’m Falling For My Former Stepdad!
Okay, I know the title of this post sounds like a bad Lifetime movie, but unfortunately it’s my life. Here’s the deal: I’m Eliot, and I like a guy named Robert. I’m obsessed with him, actually, but we have issues. Major issues. Some might even call them daddy issues...
Here’s the lowdown. Robert was only married to my mom for two years, over a decade ago, and at the time I never lived with them or knew him. (Due to my mom’s chaotic personal life, I chose to live with my own dad.) Eventually Robert learned the source of his problems: no matter what his religious parents had told him all his life, he was gay, and it wasn’t going to go away. After divorcing my mom and coming out, Robert moved to Atlanta and lost contact with us – until I just met him again at a family funeral. Cue fireworks.
Honestly, it was like meeting someone for the first time. I didn't even recognize him at first. Same for him. He is hot and smart and successful, and against all odds, I felt a reaction from the first moment. Passes and glances led to more, and soon things started happening. Sexy things. When I look at him, I see glitter in the air - and feel TNT in my pants. Robert is only 42, and he is everything I ever wanted. He also used to be married to my mother.
Let’s get one thing straight: Robert was never a father figure to me. Actually, he came and left so quickly, I barely have any memories of him at all. Mentally, I am fine with this. But I’m afraid our potential relationship would make my mom hit the ceiling.
On the other hand, though, we’re both adults. We can make our own choices. Why should we care what anybody thinks? The connection I feel with him cuts through our differences in age, financials, education, everything – and at this point I know I could really fall in love with him.
Society tells me I can’t be with Robert because that would be wrong, but society has also told me that my entire life. When I was a little effeminate kid listening to my Sunday School teacher call gay men deviants, when my dad heard I’d been spotted flirting with another guy in high school and didn’t look me in the eye for weeks – ever since I can remember, society has disapproved of me in some way or another. Why should I start caring now?
I was raised to believe that love is the only important thing in this world. I can’t lose him yet. I only have a few days left with him before we both go back home, and I’m starting to fear that I would risk everything for this– and that could spell disaster for my entire life.
Right?
I take the deepest breath of my life and press Send.
Whatever’s going on between us, starting tomorrow, it’s no longer “just between us” at all.