Stewart wasn’t crazy about the Troubadour, but he really did think it was going to impress Henry. Then again, it had been so long since he’d been on a real date, he wasn’t even sure what people did during them anymore. When Henry was around, it was easy to remember what dates were supposed to be like. He was meant to feel that fluttering in his stomach. He was meant to blush as if he were a teenager. He was meant to take quick peeks at him that he would then pretend he hadn’t taken. Henry was meant to hold his hand and make him feel like he was fifteen again, which was exactly what Henry had concerned himself with doing.
Their waiter hadn’t brought a bill, which Henry seemed to be confused by. Stewart explained that he had arranged it when he made the reservation for the restaurant to charge it to his account and Henry gawked at him as if Stewart had two heads. It was endearing, so Stewart had started to laugh, but he didn’t think Henry found it nearly as funny as he did.
The two of them left after a little while, going through the back so Henry wouldn’t have to deal with the front of the house. Stewart was glad—he was worried he was going to find someone he knew there. Troubadour was right on the boardwalk, so Stewart could see the sea and people walking around. There were a few of them on bikes, too. The ocean was quiet and dark from where the two of them were standing, but there were electric lights wrapped around the trees. It made for a romantic atmosphere, Stewart thought. He looked at Henry, who seemed a little speechless.
“You’ve never been here before?”
“Not since before it got this gentrified,” Henry said, smiling at him. His fingers tightened slightly around Stewart’s hand. “Not that I don’t love it.”
“I come here often,” Stewart said.
“I thought it was the first time you’ve been here,” Henry said.
“Not to the restaurant,” Stewart replied, shaking his head. “I just mean around here. I like to walk here in the morning when people aren’t around. It’s really nice in the morning.”
“Do you jog in tiny shorts?” Henry said, looking him up and down.
Stewart shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t jog. Definitely don’t jog in tiny shorts.”
“That’s a shame,” Henry said. “I would be into that.”
“I go to the gym, though,” Stewart said. “Sometimes I might wear shorts then.”
Henry smiled. “When are you taking me to the gym?”
“Ah, yes, everyone’s favorite date,” Stewart said. “Though if you want to come with me, you’re more than welcome to.”
“I can tell you’re dying to have me there, so I’m clearly going to have to say yes.”
“Clearly,” Stewart said. “The milkshake place is about a half an hour walk from here. We could take my car but—”
Henry’s eyes opened in horror. “No,” he said. “I don’t want you to have to find parking again. I’m pretty full, too, so I would like to make some room for that milkshake.”
“Sounds good,” Stewart replied. He didn’t think it was a wise idea to tell Henry he had a driver waiting for him in his car. He didn’t like driving on Saturdays, especially uptown. It was a crazy environment and he didn’t like having to zoom in and out of the slow-moving traffic just to get to a parking spot. He found it a lot easier to just hire a driver for the night and not worry about it. He didn’t think Henry would have access to the same services, so he didn’t necessarily want to bring it up.
They walked together hand-in-hand on the boardwalk. He hadn’t done it for so long he felt a little like he wasn’t supposed to, but with Henry pulling him forward, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stop.
“The ocean sounds peaceful out here,” Henry said.
Stewart flashed him a smile. “It’s dark out there,” he said. “Do you want to go for a swim?”
“A swim? In the dark ocean?” Henry said, his eyes narrowing and his smile widening. “You’re crazy.”
“Definitely,” Stewart said. He pulled Henry closer to him, put his arm around his waist and looked down at his mouth. “I can also protect you from sharks though.”
“You can protect me, huh?” Henry said, his gaze darting between Stewart’s eyes and his lips. He closed the small distance between them and kissed him softly before Stewart could say anything else.
Stewart could feel his entire body shuddering the moment Henry’s lips were on his. Henry was soft and warm on him. He could feel the ridges of his lips on his own, his breath on the skin under his nose and above his mouth. When Henry backed away from him, Stewart moved close to him again, covering his mouth with his own. This kiss was deeper, more passionate, Henry opening his mouth to let him in. Their tongues warred against each other’s in Henry’s mouth.
When Stewart broke off the kiss, he felt breathless. “That was…”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Same here.”
Stewart realized he needed to let go of Henry at some point, but he liked it when he was this close. He could feel his body reacting to Henry’s touch. He was wearing tight jeans, so they were helping to conceal his hard-on, which he was sure would have been plenty embarrassing in this situation. Instead of backing away from him, though, Henry put his hand on his cheek and kissed him again, getting so close to him he could actually feel how hard Henry was too. His jeans were tight but not as tight as Stewart’s.
He moved his hips slightly as his tongue slithered into Stewart’s mouth, kissing him. Stewart kissed him back, trying to ignore the shifts from his hips. The friction was enough to get him harder, which was torture in his jeans.
He threaded his fingers through Henry’s soft hair, which might have been a mistake because it was full of product. He let go, feeling a little bad about messing up his hairdo, but Henry was good humored about it. At least he looked good humored about it right then, with his cheeks slightly red under the electric light. Stewart’s cheeks were burning red too, with desire, with a little bit of shame for letting himself get carried away this much.
He should have waited until they were at least in the privacy of his home… or perhaps the water, though the first one seemed far more appealing.
“So, listen,” Stewart said, biting his lower lip.
“What is it?”
“Do you want to come back to my place?” Stewart heard himself say, surprised at how forward he was being. “I mean, you don’t have to. We can still go for a milkshake or—”
“After that earthshattering kiss,” Henry said, “I would be an idiot to say no.”
Stewart smiled at him. “Just so you know, I don’t normally do this on a first date.”
“Ah, speak for yourself,” Henry said, winking at him. “I’m a total slut, but you bought me some delicious duck, so I guess you earned my company.”
Stewart laughed and shook his head. “I didn’t even buy you a milkshake.”
“You didn’t need to buy me a milkshake,” Henry said. “If anyone was going to get you a milkshake, it was me. Trust me.”
“You still can,” Stewart said, biting his lower lip. “Maybe next Saturday?”
Henry smiled. “Slow down, cowboy,” he said. “Let’s see how the rest of the night goes. How does that sound?”
“Kind of bullshit,” Stewart said. “But sure, I guess I’ll live.”
Henry shook his head. “Do you want me to meet you there? I would prefer taking my car.”
Stewart looked him up and down. That was the very first time anyone had said that. For a second, Stewart doubted Henry wanted to meet him at all, anywhere. After all, he didn’t understand why he would, considering how good-looking Henry was and the giant misstep Stewart had made by taking him to that restaurant.
Maybe it was okay though, and Stewart wanted to give him the chance to come over to his place, if that was what he really wanted to do. He chewed on his lower lip for a little bit before he answered. “Okay,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Henry replied. “I won’t leave you hanging. I have a vested interest in seeing what your house looks like.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes,” Henry said. “Because the thing is, I don’t know anything about you yet. I think I’ll snoop in your drawers to make sure I actually do get to know you.”
“Oh, you will, huh?” Stewart said.
“I’m not trying to talk you out of it,” Henry said. “I promise I’ll keep my eyes to myself when I’m there.”
“Cross your heart,” Stewart said, “because I have a hell of a lot of drawers.”
Henry crossed his heart with his hand. “Yes,” he said. “Cross my heart, hope to die… as if I were twelve.”
“Great,” Stewart replied. “I’ll text you the address.”
***
Stewart thought about jumping in the shower before Henry was due to arrive. He wasn’t sure if he had enough time, so he decided to wash his face instead and make sure he got in a more comfortable shirt. It was a shirt with three buttons on the V-collar that revealed the top of his chest hair.
He knew he looked good. Hopefully he looked good enough to fuck, but he wasn’t deluded. He knew it might simply not happen for him that night. He was okay with that. He liked Henry—of course he was attracted to Henry. He also liked Henry as a person, which he had been surprised by. Stewart didn’t like admitting it to himself, but right then, as he was getting a cup of coffee, all he could think about was all the people he didn’t like.
And there were so, so many of them. Most people he met he didn’t like. He couldn’t help himself. He was kind of a misanthrope, but it was par for the course with his family. He had been expected to get married so many years ago, to someone he didn’t like at all. He had managed to eschew her advances by telling her he wanted to take things slow.
Then he had told her he was gay, which wasn’t true. He liked men, but he liked women too. Being queer twenty years ago was still a big deal, so she had basically abandoned him, but his mother, in her infinite wisdom, had set Stewart up with one of the more liberal women in his ex-fiancée’s family. Stewart thought it was incredibly awkward. Elle Eberhard was beautiful and smart, but mostly, she was his friend. The two of them never intended to get married... at least he didn’t think so. Sometimes she brought it up and he always managed to steer the conversation away from their impending wedding. She thought it was hilarious when he shied away from her. The two of them weren’t in a relationship—Stewart had made that clear to her—but he supposed she might expect the two of them to have a romantic relationship before the two of them got married. Of course, they were never getting married. Stewart wasn’t getting married, not to Elle Eberhard and not to anyone else.
He sighed as he took a deep breath and poured himself a cup of coffee from the French press. He was pacing around his kitchen, drinking and thinking about Henry. There was no future between him and Elle Eberhard. There was no future between him and anyone else, including Henry.
It made him feel a little sad that he was already thinking about this. There was no reason he had to think about it. The two of them weren’t going to have a future. They would have a night together, maybe a few nights, and then Stewart would make sure Henry moved on. The idea of that made him feel a little nauseous.
He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so bad about this. He knew, going into every single arrangement like this, that it was very unlikely to last. He could have told Henry that, but he knew there was no point... at least not yet. Their first date wasn’t even over.
He didn’t need to be imagining a future that was very unlikely to come to fruition. One that, for all he knew, he had already blown. He was thinking about that when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered the phone call and made sure the automatic lock opened for Henry.
The moment he did, he was getting a text from him. Hey, which one is your apartment?
Stewart smiled. He walked to the foyer, which took him about three minutes, and by the time he got there, he saw Henry looking around at the house, his jaw open.
“Hey,” Stewart said. “There aren’t any apartments here.”
The second Henry saw him, he clamped his mouth shut. Stewart waited for him to say something, but he didn’t say anything else, so Stewart approached him and cocked his head. “Are you okay?”
Henry nodded, his gaze still darting around Stewart’s place. He held it on the chandelier for a while. Stewart looked up at it with little more than passing curiosity, wondering what he could see that Stewart couldn’t. It was an oversized chandelier that hung low from the vaulted ceiling. If Stewart stretched out, he could touch the low-hanging fixtures. He hadn’t done that for a while, maybe since he was twenty years old.
“Sure,” Henry said under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” Stewart said.
Henry shook his head and closed his eyes. “You live here?”
“Well, I certainly don’t live anywhere else,” Stewart replied.
Henry nodded. He did so slowly, as if taking in the news of how Stewart lived was a difficult thing to do. “Right,” he said. “So, um, which one of the rooms is yours?”
“Which one of the… they’re all mine,” Stewart said. “All of them are my rooms.”
Henry shook his head. “Wait a second,” he said. “This is shared accommodation. Right?”
Stewart frowned. “What do you mean?”
“This house is huge,” Henry said. “Are you telling me you’re the only person who lives here?”
Stewart took a second to answer. He didn’t know which answer Henry would find worse, but he was pretty sure it was the truth. He didn’t want to lie to him, though. “Yes,” he said. “I mean, sometimes my family stays here too.”
Henry shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Can I… sit down somewhere?”
“Sure,” Stewart said, looking at him with a mixture of concern and horror. The last thing he had wanted to do was make Henry uncomfortable, but that ship had sailed. All he could hope for was that he could make him a little more comfortable right then. He turned around and started to walk toward the living room. “Follow me.”
He craned his neck back to make sure Henry was following him. For a second, he was surprised he was, but from the look on Henry’s face, it would have made no sense for him to just stay where he was. He seemed more than surprised. Stupefied was the first word that came to Stewart’s mind. After a few seconds, they were in the living room… not the real living room, but the one his family had always used for guests. Stewart had considered not taking him there, but it was the closest living room to the foyer and Henry looked so pale that Stewart was afraid he might faint.
Henry looked around as they got to the living room, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then he locked gazes with Stewart and started to laugh. Stewart wasn’t sure what had set him off, but it had to be something… something that wasn’t Stewart. He didn’t think he had given Henry any reason to start laughing like this, but at least he didn’t look uncomfortable anymore... or not as uncomfortable. To say he didn’t appear uncomfortable at all would have certainly been a stretch.
He laughed for what Stewart thought was a very long time. In fact, he managed to go for a glass of water for Henry. Stewart cracked a couple of smiles, but he was worried about Henry, so he didn’t manage to join into the fun at all. He was sitting next to Henry, concerned, when Henry finally stopped laughing. There were tears in his eyes when he did. Wordlessly, Stewart handed him a glass of water. Henry took it. He looked like he was going to speak but then he waved his hand in front of his face and cracked up again.
Stewart had no idea what was happening, and he was pretty sure he was only going to get Henry started again if he even asked, so he just sat there, saying nothing, doing nothing. He waited until Henry had finished his glass of water and shaken his head. Henry ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Stewart shook his head. “It’s okay,” he replied. “Though I have to confess I’m a little bit confused.”
At that, Henry cracked another smile. Thankfully, he didn’t start laughing that time, because Stewart wasn’t sure he could take any more unexplained laughter. There was only so much of that he was okay with.
Henry waved his hand in front of his face before he spoke. He put the glass of water to his lips, though Stewart noticed that it was empty. Maybe he was just doing it to calm himself down or to give himself a little time before he answered. He put the glass on the coffee table in front of him so softly and slowly that, for a second, Stewart was worried he wasn’t going to put it down at all. When he spoke, his voice was steady, but he wasn’t looking at Stewart. “Trust me, you're not the only one who's confused.”
Stewart nodded, but he had no idea what Henry was talking about. “What do you mean?”
At that, Henry turned to face him. His eyes were wide. They looked darker under this light. Henry looked darker under this light, which only made him seem even more beautiful. Stewart had a second to think about how weird their date had gotten before Henry spoke. Their fingers were close to each other’s, but they weren’t touching anymore. Henry wasn’t reaching out to him and Stewart didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. He wanted Henry to be the one to take the lead while the two of them were still at Stewart’s place and Henry clearly didn’t feel at home.
Henry took a few seconds to gather himself. He wiped his eyes, which were still a little moist, and then looked right at Stewart. His expression was serious, almost somber. “Can I be totally honest with you?”
Steward nodded. He was trying not to seem too eager when he answered, but he knew he was coming across a little strong because his sentence fell out like one long word. “Of course, you can be totally honest with me. I would expect nothing less.”
Henry nodded. “Okay, well, when we met, you were kind of a mess.”
Stewart had no reply for that. It was an accurate assessment of how things had been when the two of them had met. Henry cleared his throat before he continued. “You had stains all over your shirt, but you were really cute, and I thought it would be nice to go out with you after you asked. You know, I'm not a snob or anything.”
Stewart smiled. “I didn’t know that about you, actually,” he said, “but I suppose it’s good to know.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Henry said. He looked down at his lap when he spoke and his voice started to take on this trembling quality that Stewart wasn’t crazy about. “When… when you took me to Troubadour, I thought you were only doing it to impress me. The way you acted, like you owned the place, I guess I kind of thought that’s what you were doing.”
Stewart furrowed his brow and tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”
Henry shrugged. “I guess I thought you were putting on an act,” Henry said. “Pretending to be this important person. I mean, I looked you up online. Do you know how many Stewart Millers there are?”
“I’m guessing quite a few,” Stewart said. Now he was doing his best to stop himself from laughing. A few awkward seconds passed before he spoke again. “And you were okay with that?”
Henry shrugged. “I guess I thought it was cute,” he said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was a little weird, but it was still cute.”
“So you were okay with it because it was cute?”
“Sure,” Henry said, looking around the living room. “I mean, you seem like a nice guy. A little awkward, maybe, but… it’s a first date. It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve been awkward too.”
“You haven’t,” Stewart said. He looked down and sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. “Listen to me. If I’ve misled you in any way, then the only thing I can do is apologize.”
Henry shook his head. He had crossed one leg over the other and he was leaning slightly forward, which made all this seem slightly conspiratorial. When Henry spoke, however, he found himself almost unable to hear him without straining. He moved his head slightly closer to him, surprised at how quickly he was speaking.
“That's the thing, you didn't mislead me in the slightest,” Henry said with a sigh, waving his hand in front of his face. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”
Stewart shook his head. “That’s not true,” he said. “If I made you uncomfortable in any way I—”
“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Henry said. He was speaking a little more loudly this time, but Stewart noticed that all the confidence from before had pretty much disappeared. That was one of the things Stewart had liked the most about Henry when they had first met and all through the night, so he hated that he might have done something to upset that. “You didn't say anything, and I just assumed about you like an asshole. So seriously, all I can do is apologize. That's the first thing.”
“That’s the first thing? There are more things?”
Henry nodded. “I’m afraid there are more things,” he said. “The second thing, and probably the most important thing, is to tell you that I'm going to leave.”
Stewart blinked as his heart started to beat faster. The prospect of Henry leaving made him a little sick to his stomach. “Why are you going to leave?”
Henry snickered then leaned forward. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but the calm and confident demeanor from before seemed to have returned. Whatever he was going to say, he clearly believed it with all his heart. “Look around you, dude.”
He did so, quite literally. He moved his head back and forth, looking around, wondering what Henry could see that he wasn’t seeing. When he looked back at Henry, he was sure there was a question in his eyes. Henry didn’t appear to be seeing the same thing because he sighed, as if in defeat, and then he grabbed Stewart’s hand. He squeezed it, too, which made him feel a little loopy.
“The thing is, Stewart,” he said, his fingers touching Stewart’s skin, making him practically shiver with nothing but the lightest graze. “You seem like you’re really nice, but I am clearly not anywhere near your league.”
Stewart shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t understand what that means.”
Henry threw his head back. Stewart could tell he was getting frustrated, but he couldn’t figure out why. After all, he was the one saying things that made no sense. Stewart was trying really hard to understand, too.
“I guess I’m dumb,” he said.
“You’re not dumb,” Henry replied. “The only person who is dumb here is me. Stewart, you could have anyone.”
Stewart frowned. That didn’t seem true. There was also the fact that he didn’t want anyone. The only person Stewart wanted was the man in front of him. It seemed obvious Henry wanted to finish his explanation, so Stewart was going to let him, but the more he talked, the less sense it seemed to make to him. When he didn’t say anything else, it was clear Stewart was going to have to prompt him to make himself clearer. “And?”
Henry shook his head. “Don’t you see what this means?”
“Not really,” he said.
“Anyone else—and by that, I mean anyone from your world—would have been wooed by tonight. They would have loved it, and that's the kind of person you deserve.”
“And you didn’t love it?”
“I loved spending time with you,” Henry said after a beat. “I loved kissing you. And I mean, don’t get me wrong, the food was delicious, but if you want me to tell you the truth, I spent the majority of my meal wondering how I was going to pay for it. I didn’t want to sort through a bunch of different credit cards.”
Stewart shook his head. “I was going to pay for the meal.”
Henry nodded. “Exactly my point,” he said. “I’m guessing any other guy you’ve taken out would have known that.”
Stewart rubbed the bridge of his nose. Despite his irritation with Henry, he supposed the man had a point. He didn’t like that he had a point. In fact, if it had been up to him, he would have already been arguing with Henry. He wanted to keep him there, though, not scare him away. He swallowed. “So you’re leaving.”
“Stewart,” Henry said, squeezing his hand. “There’s no room for me in your life. I know that I told you that I’m a slut.”
Stewart smiled and chuckled a little. “Yeah,” he said. “I was counting on that.”
Henry laughed too, shaking his head. When he did, Stewart looked at their intertwined fingers on Henry’s lap and for a second, just a second, he had a moment of total clarity. This was what he wanted. Not just for the night, though if it had to be only for the night, then he supposed he could live with that. The feeling he got when he looked at their intertwined fingers was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It made his heart jump and it made other parts of his body react, but it was more than just lust. He could feel it all over his body. It was the opposite of dread—something like giddy anticipation. And right then, right at that moment, he realized he couldn’t let Henry go.
When Henry spoke again, his voice was quiet. “The thing is, Stewart, I'm really not. That was a joke… but it wasn’t intended to lead you on.”
Stewart stared at him. He wasn’t angry; he was confused. He was sure that going back to his place had been instigated by Henry, even if it had been Stewart’s idea.
Henry sighed. “I'm one of those weird people that needs to be absolutely sure that something is going somewhere before I sleep with someone,” Henry said. “I actually thought that it was with you because despite the weird date, I really thought you and I were getting along spectacularly.”
“The weird date,” Stewart echoed.
“It was weird!” Henry exclaimed. “You have to admit it was weird. You were great, but—”
Stewart laughed. “Okay,” he said. “I concede. I see how it was a little weird.”
Henry sighed. “Anyway, I know, the whole sleeping only with people you might get in a relationship with is such a drag.”
“I didn’t say that,” Stewart said.
“You didn’t have to say that,” Henry said. “Every guy I’ve ever been with thinks it’s a drag, so you would be the outlier if you suddenly didn’t.”
“I don’t,” Stewart said. “It’s your body. You decide who you sleep with, who you don’t sleep with, I don’t care. I just like being around you.”
“Bro, stop,” Henry said. “You’re making this hard.”
“Bro?”
Henry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it and stop making things so hard. That’s the thing. I really like you, but I don't see how I fit in with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stewart,” Henry said, slowly. “This is your life. What do you think my life is like?”
“I don’t know,” Stewart said, looking him up and down.
“That’s exactly the point,” Henry said. “You don’t know because you can’t know because there is no way for you to know. Hey, I don’t know how you got so rich. For all I know, maybe you’re the first person in your family to go to college so you can still remember what it’s like to hold your breath when you go to the supermarket and are waiting to see if your credit card has been approved.”
He looked at Stewart expectantly. He was trying to find common ground with him, but Stewart wasn’t giving him anything. Stewart wanted to. He really wanted to say he was the first person in his family to go to college, that the fortune had been hard-earned, but in truth, it was just a fact of his life. He shook his head slightly, which made Henry sigh.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” he said. “We don’t really have that much in common. There’s no way for me to overcome the fact that I have no place in your life.”
“No,” Stewart replied. “That’s not true.”
“But it is, Stewart,” Henry said, “and if you're being honest with yourself, you're also going to realize that even if you don’t see it right now.”
Stewart shook his head, but there was nothing left for him to say. There was nothing to say to that, he didn’t think, which made his stomach feel very uneasy.
Henry leaned forward and kissed his cheek, softly, quickly. His lips on Stewart’s cheek were enough to send what felt like fire from his face to his entire body. He would have been an idiot to let this man go. He held onto Henry’s hand. “Listen,” he said.
Henry stared at him. Stewart didn’t say anything as he tried to gather his thoughts. He needed to present this in the best of ways, in a way that might get Henry to stay. Henry leaned in slightly. “Stewart, darling, you’re not saying anything.”
Stewart smiled at him. “If you stay,” Stewart said, “you might just find out that you’re wrong.”
“You want me to stay? I already told you I don’t really fuck—”
“No,” Stewart said. “We don’t need to have sex. We don’t even have to touch. All we have to do is hang out.”
Henry looked away from him. “Stewart…”
“No, listen,” Stewart said. “This is a good idea. This is how you actually get to decide if you fit into my life. I was trying really hard to impress you tonight. You were right about that. This isn’t what I’m normally like. It’s been a while since I dated, just give me a chance. You might find out you actually like me.”
“Liking you was never the problem,” Henry said.
“Great,” Stewart replied, smiling at him. “So that’s score one for me?”
“You’re keeping track?”
Stewart winked at him. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I’m surprised you’re not.”