Jake
From the back of the cottage, we could walk or run for miles along the beach, past other cottages and big estates. At two miles, we crossed through a preserved wetlands with boardwalks that spanned the channels that ran into the sea and were slippery under our shoes from the humid air. We passed low, peach-colored cliffs and long rocky promontories. The landscape was dominated by the vast water that stretched to the horizon, the open sky, the tawny sand, and the endless movement of the waves.
After the bandages came off, we started running again, as if reminded that we were no longer invalids. The blood didn’t pound in my palms anymore, and running didn’t painfully jar my hands, though I kept them limp at the end of bent elbows to minimize the impact.
And maybe running was a way to take out our frustrations. I didn’t bring up sex once the bandages had come off, and Andy didn’t either. For the first few days, it was the elephant in the room. I didn’t want to suggest we go to the bedroom and get off, because then it would be clear that I wanted sex with him, not just sex. But if he’d brought it up, I would have been happy to continue. Maybe he felt the same way—I didn’t know, but he didn’t mention it. And after the first few days, it was definitely too awkward to broach the subject.
We said our good-byes to Walter, since he wasn’t needed anymore. Emily continued to come by in the mornings, bringing us meals and straightening up, though there was less for her to do now. Andy took long showers, and I wondered if he was jerking off in there. I wondered if it was just as good for him as when we’d been together. I feared the answer.
I missed kissing Andy most of all—especially kissing while being pressed against each other. I wanted to never forget how that felt. But holding on to a memory was as practical as holding on to a fistful of sand.
Bob put the best two jet skis at the dock. I was sort of depressed and didn’t want to go out much, but Andy took off on his and would be gone for hours. I considered calling my mom and having her pick me up. After all, I no longer needed help, and it might be easier not to see Andy at all. I had to start getting over this sense of crushing disappointment. But I couldn’t do it. The cottage on the sound was such an idyllic place, and I’d probably never see it again. And I didn’t want to give up being with Andy either, even if I couldn’t touch him. He was still my best friend. And our separation would come soon enough.
Two weeks after our bandages came off, we were coming back from a long run along the beach when Andy’s cell phone buzzed. He carefully got it out of his running belt, his fingers still a bit tender, like mine were. I could see the caller ID was Dad.
He gave me a worried smile and moved away from the water, far enough away to have some privacy. He kicked at a log and answered his phone, his body rigid with tension. We both knew what the call was about. It was like getting a call from the executioner.
I did leg stretches while Andy was busy in order to stay warmed up, even though we were nearly back at the cottage. Despite our six-mile-plus run, I was suddenly filled with the need to take off. Flight instinct, maybe.
I stared at the water, watching the foamy waves wash the shore. The ocean had existed before Andy and I were born, and it would be there long after we were dust. It didn’t care about our drama. I wished I could borrow a bit of that objectivity. But my stomach was tied in knots. The sea might not care about our drama, but I did.
Andy hung up and walked back over to me. He didn’t meet my eyes, merely jerked his head and started walking toward the cottage. I followed.
“Well?” I prompted.
Andy still wouldn’t look at me. He ran both hands through his hair, as though he’d missed expressing himself in that tactile way, but he said nothing.
“I swear to God, I will hurt you if you don’t tell me what he said,” I teased half-heartedly.
Andy grimaced. “My dad’s coming to pick us up on the eighteenth. That’s a Friday, two weeks from today.”
My blood chilled in my veins, despite the humid summer heat. “But . . . I thought you said your classes didn’t start until August thirty-first.”
“Yes, but orientation starts the twenty-fourth, and my dad wants the weekend before to go over the curriculum, get books and whatever else I need, and to help me move into the campus housing.” Andy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. There was a ragged edge to his voice.
“Oh.”
It couldn’t be so soon. The summer was supposed to include August, all of it. But reality didn’t give a toss about my ideas of “summer,” apparently. It suddenly occurred to me that this wasn’t just about Andy. My own life was about to go into free fall as well. I felt slightly sick. “Right. Um . . . can you guys drop me off at my house on Friday? Or I can have my mom pick me up at yours.”
“We’ll drop you off.”
I should be glad. My invalid period was coming to an end. Hell, there was no reason to hang out at my mom’s house when we got back either. Sierra was anxious for me to get to California. She was getting married in late September and “needed my help.” Plus my hands were healed enough to type. I could fly right on to San Jose and start my job two weeks early. God knew, I could use the money, and it would show Neverware I had initiative.
But the current state of my initiative was MIA. I glanced at Andy’s profile as we walked, and thought that, perhaps, I wanted to die. He was everything I’d ever wanted, or ever would want, in a partner. We had a shared history. He was the most beautiful person on earth to me—not to anyone else, perhaps, but he was to me. We fit together so easily and so well. We never got tired of each other’s company. I made him laugh. He made me brave. The sex had been incredible—as natural as touching myself and, at the same time, as hot as I could ever imagine.
I’d been with him like that after wanting him for years and giving up hope. And now I had to give up hope all over again.
Fuck it. I should have stood my ground and refused when he’d first suggested getting each other off. Then my heart wouldn’t be breaking right now. But part of me knew that I’d make the same decision in a heartbeat if I had the chance.
We reached the cottage, left the beach, and went up the few stone steps to the lawn. Andy paused at the back door and finally looked at me. The emotion in his eyes surprised me. I guess I expected . . . resignation? A shade of regret? Or, hell, maybe he was thrilled to be moving on with his life, getting to Harvard. It was fucking Harvard after all. Of course he was excited. But, instead, what I saw in his eyes was a dangerous sparkle.
Uh-oh. I knew that look. That was Andy’s reckless, throw-himself-onto-the-fire expression.
“No,” I said immediately, taking a step back on the grass. “Christ, we just got healed from your last stunt! I don’t even want to hear it.”
“Oh, you want to hear it,” Andy assured me in a dark voice. He glanced around, as if to make sure we were alone. But there was no one close by on the beach, and the neighboring houses were hidden by scrubby trees on either side of the property.
“You promised no more stunts,” I reminded him. “And we promised our folks. Ding, ding! Oh, look, it’s the reality bell! And it’s calling your name, Andrew Tyler.”
Andy didn’t respond to my sarcasm. His intensity never faltered. “This isn’t dangerous. At least not that way. I want . . .” He swallowed, then spoke firmly. “I want us to fuck. I want us to fuck each other.”
I gaped at him, blinking. Okay. That was not what I’d been expecting. “Um . . . What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why? There’ll be plenty of girls for you to fuck when you get back to Boston,” I said, sounding bitter.
“Jesus, Jake, I’ve fucked girls before, and I probably will again. That’s not the point!”
“Then what is the point?” I nearly shouted at him.
Despite how intimate we’d been in weeks past, despite the hours we’d spent kissing, it was still a jolt when he reached over and took my hand in his. Would I ever get over Andy touching me? Probably not. I looked around again. I didn’t care about people seeing us like this, but I figured Andy did.
As if reading my mind, he opened the back door of the cottage and pulled me inside. The AC was on, and it felt wonderful after the cloying, sticky heat outside. My shirt was plastered to me from the run, and I was so hot on the inside with a thousand conflicting emotions, I might melt into a puddle right there at the door.
“Just listen. All right?” Andy’s face, his tone, were so serious I had no choice but to nod even though a small voice in my head warned me this conversation wouldn’t end well.
He took a deep breath. “I know it started out as a way to get off. But . . .” He swallowed. “The thing is, I never really had the chance to experiment before.”
I huffed in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? What about Amber and the two pairs of handcuffs? You were finding honey in weird places for a week. I even took to calling you Pooh Bear for a while!”
Andy laughed and groaned simultaneously. He tugged on his hair with his free hand as though he were in pain. “Stop being so cute!”
I blinked at him. He thought I was cute? I knew he thought I was funny. But cute?
He clenched his jaw and lowered his brow, giving me his stubborn look. “I’m serious. I want to know what it’s like to fuck a guy! When am I ever going to get another chance? Who, besides you, would I ever trust enough to . . . to, God, Jake, to kiss, much less to do anal?”
I had no answer. I blinked in surprise.
Andy was so earnest as he went on, his voice dropping to soothing tones. “In two weeks, this whole break from reality is going to be over, and we won’t see each other again for a while. This is our only chance, my only chance, to experiment like this. We can agree that once we leave here, it’s done. All right? But until then . . .” He ran his hand up my arm and curled it around my neck loosely. His blue eyes were pleading. “I’m just laying it all out there. Until then, I want to do everything with you, try everything. That’s what I want. So what do you want, Jake?”
What do I want? I stared at him stupidly.
What I wanted was to be with Andy forever, for us to be together, openly, in front of the world. I wanted to come home to him after work every day and hold him every night. I wanted to throw popcorn at each other while watching movies and join a soccer league on the weekends. I wanted to be there when he graduated from law school. I wanted not to have my heart shattered into a million pieces. I wanted not to be broken for however many years it was going to take me to get over this.
I couldn’t have those things, though. And it wasn’t fair. Andy didn’t get to take every piece of me and then walk away.
And, suddenly, I was angry. “No,” I said, my voice cold. I pulled back from him and folded my arms over my chest. “I’m not interested in being your fuck toy for the next two weeks. I’m not going there with you.”
“Why not?” Andy shouted, his words sour as bile. “You went there with Kevin!”
I froze. My muscles locked up even while my heart started pounding in my ears. “You knew about Kevin?”
He waved a hand like it wasn’t any big deal. “Yeah, bro. I’m not an idiot. You were sexing it up with Kevin. Did you do that with him? Did you let him fuck you?”
It was like Andy was trying to keep his words neutral, but there was a hurt that lay under them like broken glass under a tablecloth, like in one of Andy’s stupid tricks.
Why would he be upset about that? I mean, I always figured he’d freak out about Kevin, but only because he’d think I’d been lusting after him too. But we’d been getting each other off for two months so . . . that probably wasn’t the problem. I struggled to understand.
“Did you?” Andy asked again, his eyes bright. He could be so damn pushy. He took a step toward me, crowding me against the door.
I licked my lips. What could I say? Obviously, I had lied to him. “Are you pissed that I didn’t tell you about Kevin?”
Andy frowned, but then he shrugged. “I don’t know. It didn’t exactly make me happy. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”
I rubbed my hands over my face. The skin on my fingers was still sensitive, and low-voltage needles of sensation erupted when I put pressure on them. But at least I had the use of them. “Um . . . Well. I’m bisexual.” I said the words with certainty, not wobbling at all.
Andy gave me a raised eyebrow as if to say no shit.
“But I thought if I told you, you might . . .” I took a shuddering breath. Figure out I’m in love with you. “. . . freak out. About our friendship. Or the state of the perpetually shrinking straight population, maybe. So . . .”
He didn’t smile. I went on.
“I guess I was trying to figure out exactly where the line fell for me. My personal Kinsey bar code, as it were. I should have told you about it. Trusted you. I’m sorry.” I felt the urge to joke about it, try to make him relax. I tapped my chest and faked a French accent. “Regret, she ees zee queen of my ’eart.”
Andy snorted. “God, Jake. You’re such an idiot.”
I shrugged as if to say What else is new?
“So what happens when you get to California? Are you gonna date guys, and be out at work and everything?”
Good question. Andy was a bright guy. It had probably taken him five seconds to figure out what had taken me months to wrap my head around. In California, I’d be starting fresh, and in a liberal environment. I’d already decided I’d be open about my sexuality, and Sierra had confirmed it was no big deal at Neverware. “I’ll come out, yeah. I like girls. I do. And maybe I’ll meet the perfect girl, and that will be it. But if I end up with a guy, that’s okay too.”
But first I have to get over you. Which is going to be so damn hard. I didn’t say it. What was the point?
“You don’t actually have a preference?” Andy’s voice was stiff.
I searched for the words to explain. “With a guy it’s more relaxed. Less trying to figure out what the other person wants. Then again, being with a girl is easier in a lot of ways—being out in public, family expectations . . . I don’t know, bro. We’ll see who I meet.”
“Yeah.” Andy’s voice was quiet, and his eyes dropped to the floor. His forehead was furrowed in thought. But then he looked up at me, his eyes burning again. “So did you do it with Kevin? Anal sex?”
I sighed. Nope. Andy wasn’t going to let it go. “Yeah. Yes. Yes, I did. We did that.”
“Which way? I mean, did you . . .”
“Kevin. He, uh, thought of himself as a top. So we only did it . . .” Christ. “I bottomed. Once. It was fine.” I nodded stupidly.
Andy’s gaze grew darker. “Just ‘fine’? That’s the descriptive word you choose for being fucked up the ass?”
I wanted to growl at him. Though, granted, fine was a lousy descriptive word in any circumstances, much less to illuminate the experience of having a large dick rammed up my backside. “Sorry if I’m being subtle. How about ‘I don’t really want to get into the hairy details with you’?”
“Screw that. Did you like it?” Andy insisted, taking another step closer.
I had, in fact, liked it. It was probably my favorite thing Kevin and I had done together. Kevin had used plenty of lube and done the whole fingers thing and there hadn’t been any pain, just lots of new sensations. Extremely good new sensations. But afterward, I hadn’t liked the disconnect between the intense vulnerability of being taken like that and how I’d felt about Kevin at the time. It happened toward the end of our relationship, when I was starting to find him annoying. Also, he’d been way too smug about the whole thing, the whole “I Have A Big Dick” ’tude. We hadn’t done it again.
“Well?” Andy demanded.
“Jesus. Yes, I liked it. All right? It was . . . pretty hot and it felt amazing.”
“I wanna try it,” Andy said at once, his voice hitching. “I want to fuck you. You can do me too if you want. But I have to do you. I want to know what it’s like. Don’t you want to see if it’d be different with us? You must, Jake. You’re just as curious as I am.”
His words—talking about us fucking, the way his voice already trembled with lust—caused flames to lick up my spine, set my balls to boiling, and my swelling dick steered toward my stomach. My resolve crumpled to my feet, softly, like loose PJ bottoms when the elastic broke.
“Jesus, Andy.”
“I dare you,” Andy husked out, his pale-blue eyes lit with the fires of hell and burning into mine. “Jake Masterson. I. Dare. You.”