Chapter Nineteen

 

Adrian

 

“Do you want to run through it again?” Rory asked through a yawn.

“Oh no! You’re yawning. It’s boring. I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

Rory patted the cushion, encouraging me to sit beside him on the couch. “Not boring me at all. It’s almost ten in the morning. I don’t usually stay up this late. I’m tired.”

I checked the time on my phone and gasped at the late hour. We’d been going over my presentation since I got off work at seven. I had no idea so many hours had passed.

“I should let you sleep. I have to get groceries and call my parents at noon. Then, I have to pick up the schedule for the ceremony from the administration building. Oh, and my dry cleaning. They called yesterday.”

“And sleep. Somewhere in there you probably should sleep before work tonight.”

“That too. Working nights kinda sucks sometimes. It puts a kink in everything. I had to take off three days for the awards ceremony just because of it being a day event, but also, because my parents are coming down overnight.”

Since I hadn’t sat, Rory got up and pulled me to his chest, hugging me tightly. “Don’t overdo yourself. Make sure you make time to relax, too.”

The warmth of his embrace loosened the tension through my muscles, and I slumped against his body. “I wish I could spend the night… the day… you know what I mean. I’m just too busy.”

He chuckled and kissed my head. “It’s all good. When things calm down, I’ll still be here.”

“I wish you could meet my parents. I mean, they aren’t exactly pro me being gay, but it would be nice to introduce a boyfriend to them. Since you’re kinda the first.”

Rory remained quiet, and I regretted my comment, knowing I should have kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t that he couldn’t meet my parents, but I knew his situation made it awkward. Exposing his limitations to complete strangers didn’t sit well with him.

“Maybe another time.”

He’d made no more mention of seeing Dr. Kelby after his inquiry about how she might go about helping him. I wanted to ask but knew better than to push him.

“I need to edit those interviews some I think. Make them tighter, less white space between my question and their answer, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re fretting and they’re fine.”

He yawned again, so I pulled from his arms. “I’ll let you sleep. I should go.”

“Text me?”

“I will.”

I slid my laptop into my bag and collected my notes which had been strewn over his coffee table. Knowing it was only on for my benefit, I clicked off the lamp and went to the door to put on my shoes. Rory leaned against the wall with his arms crossed as I tied them. If he had his say, I think he’d never let me leave. He’d voiced his dislike for my living situation enough times I could hear the unspoken words hanging in the air as he watched me.

With a lingering kiss that almost had me throwing all my plans out the window to crawl into bed with him, I left.

The day was bright and warm. The end of July heat waved off the scorching hot pavement. Watching it, I wondered if Rory would ever be able to handle summer again. Perhaps he could work his way toward being out in a winter sun where there was no threat of burning, but July, when I could feel the rays cooking me as I walked to the bus stop seemed an impossible dream.

I went straight to the grocery store before heading home. The air conditioning felt good, so I wandered the aisles slowly as I collected what I needed. The crap unit we had at the house barely worked, and it had been stifling lately.

Over the past four years, I’d fallen back on a simpler menu plan. Boxed dinners, canned foods, and frozen meals were easier to transport and didn’t require me to spend too much time in the kitchen. My mother would be appalled. I knew when her and my father showed up we’d be dining out, and I’d get a break from cooking. My father always insisted on fancy restaurants when they were down.

I grabbed enough items to fill four plastic grocery bags which made my travels awkward. By the time I let myself into the front door of my home, my arms ached, and I was pretty sure I’d cut all circulation to my hands.

Calvin and Dylan were busy on the Xbox, so I slipped by them and unloaded my food into my sections of the cupboard in the kitchen. Not that it did much good. If they decided I’d bought something worth having, they simply helped themselves. That rule went both ways, and lately, I’d decided to help myself to their stuff when mine suddenly vanished without explanation.

As I threw together a quick sandwich, Calvin slipped into the room with Dylan in tow. They both sat at the island and watched me. It was unnerving. When I pulled a plate from the cupboard, and they remained quiet, I spun and glared. The oppressing weight of their stares was too much.

“What? What do you want?”

Calvin feigned shock and glanced at Dylan as though he had no idea why I would be acting hostile.

“We were just waiting for you to finish up making lunch. We didn’t want to be in your way,” Dylan said as Calvin nodded.

I fixed my glasses and passed a look between them, unsure what to make of the situation. They never extended courtesies toward me. If I was in the way, they physically removed me or made enough commentary I did it myself.

“Relax, Adrian, don’t look so shocked,” Calvin said.

“You never call me Adrian.”

Calvin’s face contorted in confusion as he glanced at Dylan. “That’s his name, isn’t it?”

Dylan shrugged. “Thought so. Maybe he prefers the girl version.”

They both turned to me with overly innocent grins. I didn’t like it. The fake niceties spelled trouble, only I couldn’t sort out what was coming.

Calvin waved off my concern and jumped up, joining me at the counter. He pulled a loaf of bread forward—my loaf of bread—and extracted two slices from the package. “How’s your presentation coming along? I hear they are giving you some fancy-shmancy awards this year. That must make you feel pretty special, huh?”

“Make me a sandwich, too, dickhead,” Dylan growled.

Calvin dug out two more slices of bread, but his gaze never left my face. “Are Mommy and Daddy coming to see you front and center next week? I bet they are so proud.”

“Why do you care?” I plated my sandwich and grabbed a bottle of water.

“We care about you, Adrian,” Dylan added in a mocking tone like I’d offended him.

“Does Mommy and Daddy know about your vampire boyfriend?”

I spun and shot a death glare at Calvin as he smirked, looking proud of himself. How the hell did they know about Rory’s Heliophobia? How the hell did they know we were dating?

“Careful, Cal, he might have turned Adrianna into one, too. You’re liable to get bit. I wonder if that would make you a gay vampire?”

“Just shut the fuck up and leave Rory out of this,” I snapped.

“Nah, Adrian’s not a vampire yet, or else he’d melt into a puddle or something. It’s daytime, look.” Calvin drew aside the curtain on the kitchen window in demonstration and sized me up and down. “Not melting.”

“That’s the wicked witch from Oz, dumbass. Vampires don’t melt.”

I tore a napkin off the roll and swung around the island in a desperate attempt to escape. Dylan’s hand slammed against my chest, halting me so suddenly it knocked my lunch from the plate. My sandwich fell to the floor, ham, cheese, and mustard everywhere.

“Tell your boyfriend to watch his back,” Dylan sneered next to my ear. “We aren’t afraid of no pussy faggots.”

I shoved him off me and darted from the kitchen, leaving my ruined lunch behind. I wasn’t hungry anymore. Just as I rounded the front hall to fly up the stairs, I ran smack into Marcus who was coming in from outside, bookbag over his shoulder.

He caught me before I tripped over him and fell, steadied me on my feet, and looked at me with query. I shoved him away.

“You keep really shitty friends.” He glanced toward the kitchen, and I ran, taking the stairs two at a time.

In my room, I slammed and locked my bedroom door before sinking to the ground. My body trembled, and I pinched my eyes closed, stopping the tears from burning at the surface. Part of me wanted to text Rory. I knew he was sleeping, but I needed his confidence and sturdiness more than anything. What would I tell him? If I explained what had happened, he’d be furious. He’d want me to go over to his apartment, and if I refused, he’d feel utterly helpless and stuck to do anything for me. I hated making him feel trapped.

A knock at my door startled me. Before I could respond, Marcus’ voice came through, soft and with threads of concern I almost wanted to believe.

“Hey, you okay?”

“What do you care?” I snapped, unable to rein in my anger. Maybe Marcus hadn’t been there in the kitchen, but he’d never stopped those assholes or stood up for me. Not once.

He didn’t respond, and I thought he’d gone until I heard shuffling like he was sitting outside my door.

“Why do you stay here, Adrian? Why don’t you leave?”

I laughed at the same time the tears spilled over and traced lines down my cheeks. “And go where? I live here. This is supposed to be my home, too.”

“There are a lot of other places you could live that would be better than this.”

Any place would be better than this. It was too complicated to explain. Too much to process. Besides, I had no desire to be lured into a trap of phony kindness.

I didn’t respond, and when I heard a clamor of feet racing up the stairs, Marcus was gone. It was amazing how quickly my day could turn from amazing to shit. I missed Rory.

Staring off at nothing, I remained seated in front of the door for too long. I just wanted to disappear. Not exist. Why was it so hard to fit in? Where did I always go wrong?

When I checked the time and saw it was past one, I knew I didn’t have time to run by the administration building or get my dry cleaning. My phone call home was already late, and I still needed to try and sleep before work.

I got off the floor and sat at my desk as I pulled up my parent’s number. My bruised soul from my roommate’s harsh words lingered, and I ached to feel the comfort of a familiar voice of someone who didn’t hate me. It rang three times before my mother answered.

“You’re late. You said you’d call at noon.”

“Sorry. I’ve been busy. I lost track of time.”

She huffed an exasperated breath. “Well, I only have a minute now. Cecilia is on her way over, and once she turns on that blasted machine, I won’t hear a thing.”

It was called a vacuum, and if she didn’t like it, she should ask the damn housekeeper to come when she wasn’t home. My mother had always insisted on supervising her like she was incompetent. Cecilia had been in and out of our house since before I was born. If my mother couldn’t trust her after twenty plus years, I doubted she ever would. I’d always felt sorry for the poor woman.

“I just wanted to confirm plans for next week. The award part of the ceremony starts Thursday at ten. There is a brunch at noon and speakers are spread out all afternoon. I’m not sure where my presentation is being held or what time. I didn’t make it to the admin for the schedule yet.”

“That seems terribly irresponsible, Adrian. You know your father likes to have everything penciled in way ahead of time. What should I tell him? That his son merely didn’t care enough to make room in his busy day to check?”

I sighed. “Tell him I’ll know tomorrow and send him an email.”

“Fine.” There was shuffling, and I gnawed my lip, wishing I could have a normal conversation with my mom for once. “And how is this counseling job going?”

I loved how she made it sound like I was merely pumping gas at a local station instead of acquiring experience in my field of study.

“I like it. The crisis line has given me a lot of experience thinking on my toes.”

“Hmm.”

I fixed my glasses and wondered if I should mention I was dating. It hadn’t come up yet. I knew they wouldn’t meet Rory when they came down, but it wasn’t because I didn’t want them to know who he was. He was a glowing ray of happiness in an otherwise depressing life. I wanted my parents to be happy for me more than anything.

“I have news,” I blurted before I could change my mind.

She didn’t press, only waited for me to spit it out.

“I met a guy. We’re dating.”

More silence.

“He’s twenty-eight. Does web design. His name’s Rory and—”

“That’s nice, dear. Just don’t let yourself become distracted. Your schooling is the most important thing right now.” It’s not! “I think we can wait to tell your father, yes? Good. Make sure to send that email, or I suspect you’ll be getting a call tomorrow. He will not be pleased to be made to wait.”

“Mom. Don’t dismiss me when I share something important.”

“School is important, Adrian. Boyfriends are nothing more than distractions. A relationship isn’t a priority. Oh, look, Cecilia’s here. We’ll see you next week, sweetheart. Email your dad.”

The line went dead before I could say goodbye or argue that she and my dad dated while he was in school. None of it mattered. My feelings had never been taken into account.

I tossed my phone aside and flopped down on my bed. My nerves hadn’t settled yet from my exchange with Dylan and Calvin. I was edgy and nowhere near tired. My mind raced over their actions and what they’d said. The more I thought about it, the more rattled I became. Something seemed… off. And then there was Marcus. Whatever Marcus’ intentions were when he came to my door, he was right. Somehow, someway, I needed to leave.

Work was going to be a challenge if I didn’t try to sleep, but I wasn’t tired. I sat on my bed and glanced around my room looking for something to do that might make me sleepy. I was too worked up to read, and even though I wanted to call Rory, I knew he would be sleeping. Nor did I want to explain why I was upset.

Scanning, I caught sight of the unopened box that had been delivered weeks ago. The result of my reckless, online shopping spree. I hadn’t forgotten about it, but every time I looked at the box a wave of embarrassment hit me. Why had I told Rory about it? Never mind that, why had I bought it in the first place?

After the first time Rory had instigated a little anal play, I’d been unable to stop thinking about how amazing it would feel to have him inside me. Since I’d been unable to persuade him into action, in a moment of weakness, I’d made a purchase. I wanted desperately to know what it was like. But, there it sat, in the unopened box.

A warm tingle erupted in my belly and flooded my veins, concentrating between my legs. Remembering the intensity of the orgasms I’d experienced when Rory had penetrated me with fingers had me pushing off the bed and walking to the shelf.

The box was simple and white. Apart from the standard postal markings, there was no indication of what was inside. The sender used an acronym of their store name, so it wasn’t blatantly obvious what it contained.

I plunked down on my desk chair with the box on my lap. Curiosity had me tearing the tape off, and blood pooled to my dick when I removed a second box from the popcorn packaging inside. The second box had a clear cellophane window that displayed the flesh-colored dildo in all its glory.

I stared at it a long time, my dick turning to granite and pressing painfully against the zipper of my pants. The phallic object flooded my mind with images that made my cheeks hot. Videos I’d seen and fantasies I’d dreamt up. I bit my lip as I opened the box and removed the silicone dildo from within.

It wasn’t the same size as Rory, although I’d done my best to find one that would match him. Rory was thicker I thought, while the dildo was definitely longer. Scary long if I imagined it plunging into my ass.

I shuddered at the thought and closed my eyes, gripping my dick through my pants when I felt a smear of pre-cum wet my underwear.

“Okay,” I said to the fake penis. “You aren’t Rory, but I’m going to pretend you are.” My words were strained, and my breathing already labored.

As I palmed myself through my pants, I brought the dildo to my mouth and ran my tongue along the tip before screwing up my face. “You don’t taste like Rory. For the record, you taste like new, out-of-the-box rubber. Or silicone in this case. Gross.”

I popped the button on my pants and shoved them down enough I could let my dick out to breathe. After a few steady strokes, I sucked in a breath and stopped, glaring at the dildo again. “We aren’t doing this without lube. Hang on.”

I left it on my desk and kicked off my pants before rooting through a drawer by my bed and finding what I needed. Before Rory, I’d never braved putting anything in my ass, even when I’d read everywhere how amazing it was to stimulate the prostate. Over the past few weeks, I’d experimented plenty with fingers and read all there was to know about preparing one’s self for anal penetration.

Grabbing the dildo, I settled into a comfortable spot on my bed, hiked up my knees, and popped the cap on the lube. Rory told me to go home and relax, so that was exactly what I planned to do.

“Okay, here goes nothing.”