Aaron Masterson, huh? What a blast from the past. I haven’t heard that name in a decade…

But even if Vance hadn’t heard it, he’d thought about it. Aaron had been a high school fling — a fun distraction during his senior year when the most exciting thing he could get up to was sneaking through the back door of the old dive bar and getting drunk off two dollar beer. Aaron had always been morally uptight — the kind who held himself to high standards, and expected excellence. He’d aced his classes, rebuffed Vance’s offers to bring him along to the bar, and done extra-curricular and volunteer work that should have made him a shoe-in for whatever prestigious college he wanted to attend.

Vance realized, as he left the bathroom and headed back through the bar, that he had no idea if Aaron had ended up going to college or not. After their sex tape had leaked, he’d broken up with Vance in a tearful fury and disappeared off the face of the earth. He had nothing to be ashamed about — he’d looked hot as hell, giving Vance bedroom eyes like that in their video. It was a grainy cell phone clip, anyway, way back when Vance had owned a flip phone, of all things. In a rare moment of indiscretion brought on by lust, Aaron had begged him to film what they were doing, and Vance hadn’t been able to say no.

He headed out to the parking lot and watched as a car — Aaron’s? — sped out of the tiny parking lot and hit the street. They’d been young and dumb, and Vance hadn’t meant to leak the video maliciously. He’d bragged to his friend at the time, Tim, about what they’d done, and Tim demanded proof. But Tim had distributed it, and word had gotten around school, and soon enough, Aaron had been the laughing stock of Prescott while Vance got off without any repercussion except a broken heart.

Not that he was in love. He’d never been in love. Love wasn’t a thing, and while Aaron was nice, and the time they’d spent together had made him feel something, it wasn’t like he needed it. He’d landed a record deal, gone out to Los Angeles to start his music career, and the rest was history.

But now he was back in Prescott, and the boy he’d thought was going to go places in life was still here, too. It looked like things hadn’t gone the way that either of them expected.

Vance stood for a while in the night air and watched until the car disappeared from view. He had no desire to go back into the bar and find someone new. He didn’t even want another drink. There was a hollow feeling in his chest that was bothering him, and it hit way too close to home. Right now, all he could think to do was move on. He needed to go lick his wounds in private.

He headed down the street, tracing his steps back through a town that was familiar, but that fundamentally had changed. He wondered where Aaron had gone, and what he was doing in Prescott. There wasn’t much to do here for someone as accomplished and brilliant as he was, and Vance couldn’t help but wonder if he was being challenged enough here, or if he’d resigned himself to an easy life.

Just like me.

Vance turned the corner and made his way back to his apartment. It was nestled near the downtown core. Prescott was never busy, but there was always at least a little traffic, and the sound of it worked like white noise to drown out Vance’s thoughts. He was used to the busy streets of Los Angeles and the non-stop traffic, and he craved the noise. He’d thought the fact that he was within walking distance to the bar would be a bonus, but as it turned out, maybe it would be more of a curse than anything else.

He climbed the stairs to his unit, fitted the key in the lock, and opened the door. There was nothing inside. What few belongings he hadn’t already sold were being shipped from Los Angeles, and they’d only arrive tomorrow. He hadn’t been lying to Aaron when he’d said that, even though he doubted that Aaron believed him. The only thing he’d brought along, apart from a suitcase with his clothes, was the air mattress that currently sat in his bedroom. Vance locked the front door, entered his bedroom, and set up the air pump to re-inflate the mattress. It was a far cry from the luxurious king-sized bed he was used to, but desperate times, and all that.

He waited until the mattress was firm, turned off the air pump and sealed the input hole, then plopped down on it and stared at the stark white ceiling. Light traffic passed outside his window. The world moved on even as he stayed in one place.

“Aaron Masterson, huh?” Vance murmured. He closed his eyes. He was cute back in high school with a little weight on him and with that stupid bleach blond hair, but he was hot as hell now that he was fit and a brunet. Vance didn’t care so much what he looked like — what troubled him was that what he felt back then for Aaron was the same thing he felt now. The magnetic pull between them was impossible to resist. It was like he was a teenager again, navigating love and sex for the first time, horny out of his mind from hormones and the late stages of puberty.

Fuck.

Vance had gone home alone, but Aaron was still on his mind, and there was only one way to get him out. He took off his pants and boxer-briefs, wrapped a hand around his cock, and pretended that it was Aaron’s ass he was banging instead of his own palm.

Maybe one day he’d figure out how to set things right between them. Maybe he wouldn’t. But until then, Vance knew he had to keep moving forward. The world waited for no man — he’d learned that the hard way out in Los Angeles. It was up to him to keep marching forward even when faced with adversity.

If only all adversity made him feel like Aaron Masterson did… then maybe he could get around to conquering it.