ELEVEN
Just as Leo got out of the shower, there was a banging sound coming from his front door. He dried off quickly and pulled on a pair of sweats. Water dripped from his hair and down to his chest as he walked toward the door.
It was Wednesday evening, and he didn’t work. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come over. He’d spent an hour or so on a hookup app earlier before realizing he wasn’t in the mood to meet up with anyone. He wasn’t in the mood to fuck. Right now he just wanted to be alone.
It was that last thought that almost made him ignore the door, but then the banging started again, louder and more urgent than before. It wasn’t a typical knock. “Jesus, hold on,” Leo mumbled, as though they could hear him.
Leo pulled the door open to see Roman standing on the other side. He again wore a suit, but the tie was loose, the top button on his shirt undone.
There was a curve to his back, as though he couldn’t keep his spine straight. Leo wasn’t sure anyone would notice it other than him. It wasn’t as though Roman was slumped over, but still, even after all these years, he somehow recognized little signs in Roman’s body language.
He was hurting. Leo could see that, but Roman had broken him years ago. It was that pain that made him say, “Back for a hookup so soon? Looks like you still enjoy cock—or at least my mouth.”
He saw a flash of defiance, of the old Roman in the man’s brown eyes, and then it was gone.
“No. That’s not what I’m here for.”
“Then why are you here?” Leo asked.
“To see you,” Roman replied, and Leo cursed. He ran a hand through his wet hair and noticed Roman watching him. He pulled the door open wide and waited for the man he’d loved as a teen to come inside, wondering how the years had changed him so much. But then, they’d changed Leo as well.
“Can I sit?” Roman asked.
“Yeah. Have a seat.”
Roman walked to the couch and sat down while Leo went straight for the kitchen again. It wasn’t that he was an alcoholic, but he just wasn’t sure he could get through another night with Roman without taking the edge off. He grabbed two glasses, a fresh bottle of whiskey, and then walked over and set them on the coffee table before sitting across from Roman.
Roman nodded toward the bottle, and Leo opened it, poured each of them more than a shot. They both emptied their glasses before Roman spoke. “I apologize for the other night…both of them.”
Leo hated that he almost smiled at that. “No problem.” He could probably apologize for sucking the guy off too, but a blowjob wasn’t really something you should have to apologize for.
Roman poured the potent whiskey into each of their glasses again. He drank his down before Leo picked his up. He was nervous, Leo realized. So fucking nervous, he looked like he could burst out of his skin.
“I don’t know what to say,” Roman told him.
“Start with why you’re here.” Because that was a whole lot easier than delving into their past. He wasn’t sure he could take that journey. It hurt too much the first time for a return visit. “More than just to see me, I mean.”
Leo looked at the man, watched as he pulled at his already loose collar. Looked at his expensive black suit, which reminded him that he didn’t know this man at all. He’d thought he knew the boy he was, but all he could see was the anger in Roman’s dark eyes that last day. All he could hear was the venom he’d spoken with. Feel Roman’s fist as it met his jaw. That’s who he remembered now when he thought of Roman.
“I’m here because I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I saw you on the patio that night. As much as I hate myself for it, as much as I don’t fucking understand why it should matter after all this time, it’s the truth. We were stupid kids back then. We didn’t know what we were doing. I’m twenty-eight fucking years old. I should know what I’m doing now. I thought I did, and now that’s been blown to shit.”
Roman poured amber liquid in his glass for the third time before drinking it all. Jesus, who in the hell was this man? He was scared and broken in ways Leo couldn’t attribute to Roman. Roman had always been broken in some ways. They both had been, and somehow being together had been a form of tape on those jagged pieces, but now? Now he was shattered. On the surface he looked put together, but he really fucking wasn’t.
And in so many ways, Roman was right. They’d been kids. They had no clue what they were doing, but he knew what he’d felt had been real. “Were we?”
Roman looked over at him with small wrinkles by his eyes that hadn’t been there before. A scar on his eyebrow that Leo didn’t remember.
“Were we what?” Roman asked.
“Just stupid kids.”
Roman shook his head. “You see how things turned out—obviously we were.” He took a deep breath and then said, “I really did love Amy.”
Roman’s words burned a hole through Leo’s chest. He could easily admit to loving her, but what they’d had he said hadn’t been real? “Then maybe you should be talking to her right now.”
Leo drank what was in his glass as Roman poured his fourth. “You drink like that all the time now?” He cocked a brow at Roman.
“No. And…and I could be…talking to her. But I’m not. I’m here, and I have to tell you, part of me hates myself for it. You’re my past, my childhood…” He waved his hand.
“Mistake? Experiment?” Leo finished for him. “Your taste of the good life before you grew up to try and conquer the world? Before you found a way to forget your fucked-up childhood, shitty family, and the boy you used to silently kiss and suck off every chance you got? Looks like you’ve done pretty well with most of it.”
Roman ran a hand through his hair. Leaned over and rested his elbows on his bouncing knees. “I’m trying here, Leo.”
“Why? Why are you trying?”
“I don’t fucking know!” Roman’s voice came out loud and angry. And then softly he said, “I’m sorry.”
Yeah, Leo was sorry too. Sorry about everything and how it turned out.
Roman emptied his last glass. Leo leaned forward and pulled the bottle away. Roman didn’t reach for it, though; he just leaned against the back of the couch as he closed his eyes.
Leo’s heart sped as he looked at Roman; anger, want, hurt, the residue of the love he’d once felt for the man—any of those things a possible cause. Maybe all four.
A minute passed by, then two. They were silent, Roman with his eyes closed and Leo sitting across from him, watching. Part of him wanted to end this right now. Wanted to tell Roman to leave, yet he didn’t. He just…watched.
Watched as Roman sank back farther into the couch, as if getting more comfortable. Watched as his body visibly loosened up. Watched as a smile teased the corners of his mouth, making them rise. “We had some fun times, didn’t we?” His voice was soft, almost young-sounding, like the boy Leo used to know.
“We did,” Leo answered just as quietly, his throat tight.
“I remember”—Roman’s words were getting softer and softer, slightly slurred—“I remember thinking…so this is what it feels like to be happy.”
Leo’s throat closed completely. He couldn’t respond, couldn’t speak. All he could do was continue sitting there watching Roman.
“But it was a lie, wasn’t it?”
While it was happening, it hadn’t felt like a lie. It has been the only honest piece of Leo’s life. He hadn’t had anything that felt as honest since.
The fact that they were sitting here as they were spoke the opposite, though. “Yes, it was a lie.” Maybe they’d both been lying to themselves.
Roman didn’t respond. Leo didn’t move until he knew Roman had fallen asleep—or passed out was more likely the truth. And then he stood, went into his room, and grabbed two blankets and pillows. He laid one of the pillows on the edge of the love seat, then eased Roman down to lie on it. He went easily, and then Leo covered him with one of the blankets.
He touched Roman’s thick black hair. “Good night. Let sleep bring you peace from what haunts you.”
Leo pulled back, turned out the lights, and then lay in the cramped chair next to Roman and went to sleep.