The bar was busy for a Friday night, but Brody managed to snag a table in the corner. He checked the time on his cell phone for about the tenth time in five minutes. Owen was late. Fifteen fucking minutes late and it made his stomach churn with nerves. Had he changed his mind?
Brody picked up his phone and looked down at the screen, trying to decide if it was too clingy to send him a text. He had his name pulled up when the chair across from him screeched as Owen pulled it out and sat down. Damn, Brody was relieved to see him.
“Sorry, had to turn back around for my wallet. Didn’t realize it fell out of my pocket onto the couch until I stopped for gas.” Owen’s face flushed—they both knew why it had fallen out on the couch.
Brody laughed, trying not to be obvious while he adjusted himself, remembering what they’d done on that couch. Owen’s flushed cheeks and labored breaths, his well-defined pecs dusted with black hair that tapered into a trail down his tight stomach, leading to his…fuck…Brody cleared his throat. “It’s okay. Hang on. Let me get you a beer.”
“I can get―”
“I asked you out, I’ll get the beer. Be right back.”
Owen held up both hands in defeat and laughed. Brody was back in a few minutes, three beers in hand.
“Are we expecting someone else?” Owen asked.
Brody placed two in front of Owen and kept one for himself. “I already had one before you got here. You need to catch up.”
“I think you already proved that you don’t have to get me drunk to get in my pants,” Owen teased, with a raised eyebrow and a sly smirk.
Okay, so Owen was giving him shit about it. That was a good sign that he didn’t regret it, right? “Couldn’t hurt.” Brody smiled and waggled his eyebrows.
Owen sat back in his chair and studied Brody, his expression suddenly more serious, like he was trying to figure him out. “So, what happened to you when you left after high school? You were gone for a long time.”
Damn, we’re jumping right in, huh?
Brody rubbed his clammy hands on his jeans. “Well, I already told you I went to college in Boston. It was a whole other world. I loved it.” But he hated talking about it, because it brought back memories of things he’d rather forget, of when his life totally shifted. Who the hell was he kidding? It didn’t just shift, it cracked down to the very foundation that had always held him up—because in that foundation were fault lines of lies and fears.
He couldn’t close himself off from Owen. Not if he wanted to get anywhere with him, gain his trust. “I was only there for two years before I had to leave. College, I mean. I stayed in Boston, even after I left school.”
“Right...your dad.” Owen paused, as if searching for his next question then asked, “Did you come out as soon as you got to college?”
Damn, Brody wished it had been that easy. Get to college, come out, and live happily ever after. Life wasn’t a fucking fairytale though. “No, not completely. I mean, there was one guy, but I made him promise he wouldn’t tell anyone.” Brody watched Owen wince, and he didn’t blame him. “Look, it’s not like I didn’t want to or didn’t think about it, but it still wasn’t easy for me.” Doubt lingered in Owen’s eyes, so Brody asked, “How did your mom feel when you came out?”
Owen’s expression softened, and he said, “Well, I was kind of forced out, but she loved me unconditionally. Always has. So do my aunt and cousin.”
“Exactly. When the most important people in your life accept you, the rest of the fucked-up shit doesn’t matter. My parents would never accept it. At least, I thought they both felt that way. I only recently found out that my mom wasn’t ashamed of me.” It was going to take a long time to come to terms with that and to heal—or at least ignore—the hurt that settled in his chest from what he’d lost.
“Did you love him?” Owen asked hastily, then cleared his throat and said, “The guy, I mean.”
Brody took a long swig of beer, let the cool carbonation slide down his throat as he debated his answer. “Ryan.” That was the first time he’d said his name to anyone but Gabe in almost a decade. “Yeah, I loved him.” The admission felt strange, the memories so distant he wondered if it actually did happen. At the time, Brody did love Ryan. But not enough.
“What happened?”
Brody tried to smile, but he was getting more nervous by the minute. “Can we not―I was hoping to just have some fun tonight. I’m sweating bullets over here.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. Jesus, he really was sweating. He waited for Owen to get up and leave. The fact was, Brody wasn’t sure how Owen would handle hearing how Brody had fucked up. Again.
To his relief, Owen stayed.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. You’ve already told me a lot of personal shit today.” Owen shook his head and laughed. “I have no idea why the fuck I’m nervous, but I am. Didn’t mean to start interrogating you.” Somehow, knowing that Owen was nervous too calmed Brody’s racing heart a bit.
“No, it’s okay. I want to tell you everything, I do. For tonight, can we just enjoy each other’s company, forget my fucked up past...forget you hate me?” Brody was picking at the label on his beer bottle, taking small glances up at Owen. Okay, so maybe he’d set Owen up with the last part, but he needed to know.
Something flashed in those blue eyes of Owen’s. Confusion? Maybe. Desire? God, he hoped so.
“I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t?” Hope flared in Brody’s chest.
Owen shook his head, staring at Brody, mulling over whatever he was about to say next. “Still feel like I’m trying to figure you out, but I don’t hate you.”
That was enough. For now, it was enough.
~ɤ~
They talked for a few more hours, and Owen had to admit, he was having fun. He wasn’t expecting to fall into such easy conversation with Brody, and he certainly didn’t expect to have anything in common with him. They compared life in the city: Owen in New York and Brody in Boston. Owen told Brody about his father and how close they used to be; how they used to go camping and fishing before his father got sick. Brody talked about his mom, and Owen could see how happy he was that he was getting to spend time with her. Owen couldn’t even imagine his life without his mom in it. Regret lurked in Brody’s brown eyes and soft smile, but he knew Brody was trying not to cast a shadow on whatever time he had left with her.
Owen didn’t ask him any more about Ryan, even though it was killing him. He wanted to know who Ryan was, and why they broke up. Was it because he didn’t want Brody to hide him anymore? Would Brody try to hide whatever the hell was going on between him and Owen? He seriously could drive himself crazy with questions, and until he had the answers, he wasn’t sure he could let things go any further with Brody. But for the first time, he felt like Brody was a person worth getting to know.
The more Owen got to know this Brody, the more he liked him, yet he wasn’t even sure if Brody was completely out of the closet or if he still kept one foot in the door. Although, having a friend like Gabe made Owen think that maybe Brody had given up the closet for good. Speaking of...
“How long have you known Gabe?”
“Nine incredibly long years.” Brody barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes. Then seemed to sober a bit. “Seriously, I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the last nine years without him.”
“You guys, uh... You couldn’t be more different from each other.” That was an understatement. “How the hell have you been friends that long?” Owen couldn’t figure it out. Gabe was loud, bold, aggressive, and dressed like he was an Italian model, and Brody was, well...Brody.
Amusement crossed Brody’s face, a slight smile turning into a full-on grin. “How do I explain Gabe? Gabe is the most high maintenance guy you’ll ever meet. He owns bottles of scotch that cost more than my rent back in Boston. He’s comic relief to lighten all of the serious shit going on in my life, but he steps up when I need him to. He’s never once let me down.”
“Have you guys ever...you know...?” Jesus, Owen. Really?
“Fucked? Almost, but no.” Brody gave a shy smile, his cheeks flushing a little.
“Sorry, none of my business.” Owen was an asshole for asking, but the answer relieved him and he didn’t know why. A little hypocritical considering Jonah would always remain his best friend, and their history was anything but platonic. Gabe just had this confidence about him, and it intimidated the shit out of Owen.
“I don’t mind you asking, Owen.”
And now that Owen had his answer, at least to one of his questions, he didn’t know what else to say. “Listen, I hate to do this, but I have to be at work early tomorrow morning.” Real smooth, asshole. He went from have you ever fucked Gabe to it’s past my bedtime?
Concern creased Brody’s brow. “Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t even realize what time it was.”
“No, it’s fine. If I wanted to leave earlier, I would have.” It was the truth. Owen had more fun than he’d expected to tonight.
The grin that spread across Brody’s face was one Owen could get used to seeing.
“Come on. I’ll walk out with you.” Brody stood up and waited for Owen to lead the way.
Owen would’ve loved some kind of small show of affection. A touch on his hand or on his back...anything that would show him that Brody was really an openly gay man.
But that didn’t happen.
You’re being ridiculous. Why does Brody have to prove to anyone who he fucks?
But Owen couldn’t help that past experiences were still holding him back. Yeah, it was great that Brody could be himself behind closed doors, but could he be that way out in public? He sure as hell didn’t want a man in the closet...even if that closet was his.
They walked out into the dark parking lot together, Brody following Owen to his car. He was about to open his door when Brody put his hand on it. Turning around, Owen leaned his back against the car, feeling the heat of Brody’s body.
“Can we do this again tomorrow night?” Brody moved in closer, his body leaning against Owen’s, his hands on either side of his head on the car.
“Jonah comes back tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Brody leaned back.
Owen found himself grabbing the front of Brody’s shirt so he couldn’t pull away further. The sea of vulnerability in Brody’s chocolate brown eyes didn’t sit well with Owen. He didn’t want to end the night like this. “Jonah and I have things to talk about, and his stuff is still at my place.” He held Brody’s gaze so there would be no miscommunication. “He’s important to me, Brody. Always will be, like Gabe is to you, but we haven’t been in love with each other for a long time now.”
That was more than he planned on confessing tonight, and he found himself needing something―something that would give him some reassurance that Brody wasn’t still hiding who he was. Cautiously, Owen pulled him forward, brushing their lips together. When Brody didn’t pull back, he kissed him harder, crushing his mouth on Brody’s. He could taste the beer on Brody’s tongue. As it had the last two times, it quickly spiraled out of control. Brody moved in even closer, and Owen was surprised there was any available space left between them.
Owen hardened to the point of stifling within his jeans and could feel that Brody was in the same state. He knew he had to pull back. This thing between them was moving way too fast. With a hand to Brody’s chest, he pushed gently, not needing more than that for Brody to give him room. “You are no good for my fucking self-control. If we don’t stop now, I’m going to want you to come home with me.”
“And I gladly would, but like I said before, I want you to be sure.” Brody kissed him softly again then backed away. “Let me know if you’re free on Sunday. We can get lunch or something.” As Brody walked backward toward his truck, he said, “Night, Owen.” And then he flashed him a smile before turning around.
“Night.”
There wasn’t anyone else in the dark parking lot; no one to see that they’d just kissed the hell out of each other next to his car. It didn’t matter though. The fact that someone could have seen, and Brody hadn’t pull away, gave Owen hope.