Chapter 13 Back Where You Belong

I GAVE Ellis as much space as he needed. The transition from his parents’ couch to mine wasn’t hard, but simply having him home didn’t transform him into Chatty Cathy. He slept a lot when he wasn’t doing schoolwork, and when he was awake he smiled at me more than anything. (Still no deep discussions.) I longed to return to our much-needed conversation, but there were moments of flirtatious glances and soft touches that gave me hope. So I waited.

Russell and Rob brought his assignments by daily, and also dropped the completed work off with his instructors. They were great! Ellis had already made up the work he’d missed and read constantly to keep ahead. And on a few occasions, Mike even used FaceTime to let Ellis watch the lecture live! (Ellis has some pretty awesome friends.)

IWALKED into the living room one afternoon to find him scratching his leg inside the cast with a pencil. “You know you’re not supposed to do that,” I pointed out. “What if you cut yourself or get lead jammed under the skin? You could develop gangrene and then they’d have to amputate.”

Ellis glared, although not in a menacing way.
“Do you want something to eat?” I asked.
Ellis shook his head.

“I think you should eat. You look like you’ve lost weight and I wouldn’t want you wasting away to nothing.”

 

“I’m fine.”

I sat on the edge of the coffee table and waited. I was trying to give him time to work through his issues, but whatever personal problems he had were taking too long to surface, in my opinion. Avoidance didn’t solve anything; it only prolonged the distance between us. I didn’t like distance. We’d confessed our love, shouldn’t there be lots of kissing and handholding and more kissing? I wasn’t expecting sex, especially while he was in a cast, but some kissing would be nice. I’d even like to lie next to him and feel him holding me.

I watched him and he watched me. Our eyes were not afraid to linger, but I was still unable to read the unspoken thoughts. I gave him a smile and was rewarded with one in return. I took a chance and moved my body closer so I was able to touch his arm. Ellis took my hand and held it, caressing each finger and studying the contour of every joint. I felt so treasured. He kissed my fingertips, and I closed my eyes. I felt him rub his cheek against the back of my hand and the hair on his face scratched, but in an enjoyable way. I liked his scruffy look and was glad he hadn’t shaved in days.

Another tender kiss, and then he asked, “Can you make me a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Talk about a non sequitur? That was so random! “What? Sure.” I reluctantly pulled away and absently served him. Should I be angry? I guess not. He wasn’t being mean.

ANOTHER day or two slipped by, and I was on the verge of banging my head against the wall. Lingering to the point of stagnation was our current state of affairs. I am aware that guys in general, as a collective whole, are not notorious for sharing emotions readily— not usually—but this was getting ridiculous. I did my share of bottling things up and hiding how I felt, but this was different. I sensed that he and I were on the brink of something amazing, and if I allowed it to drag on too long, maybe that “something” would disappear. I had to act. Rob had told me Ellis was shy, so maybe I could get him to talk if I gave him a nudge in the right direction.

He changed positions this morning and currently had his leg propped on a pillow on the coffee table so he could play Xbox. Only… he wasn’t playing FIFA, and the couple times I peeked into the living room earlier, Ellis was just sitting there, staring at nothing. The amount of curiosity I had was enough to kill eight cats.

I walked over to him and sat down on the sofa. “I’m sorry,” I said, taking all the blame on myself. “I don’t know exactly what I did, but if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what is going on between us, then I’m sorry.”

He lifted his heartbreaking expression in my direction. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
Yeah, how many times have you heard that phrase and suddenly felt better? I wasn’t buying it. “Ellis, talk to me.” I paused and waited, but he remained quiet and contemplative. “You know I love you. And you told me you loved me too. I want to be here for you, but unless I turn into Edward Cullen in the next few minutes—”
He chuckled. “Please don’t.”

“—I don’t have the gift of reading minds. You have to give me a clue or something.”

More silence. God, this was like watching paint dry . (Which, by the way, sounds like a terribly boring job. Does anyone really do that?) “I know you were about to tell me something the night you broke your leg and therefore never got the chance, but since you’ve been home, you’ve slipped into this nonconfrontational demonstration of silence as a superpower. Ellis,” I said softly, trying to sooth his tension, “please, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. Talk to me.”

“I’m afraid,” he admitted without looking at me.

Afraid? Okay. When silence continued and he didn’t expound on his confessed fear I felt compelled to fill in the blank. “Is it a fear of… bees?”

Ellis snorted. “Apiphobia? No.” He smirked and glanced sideways at me.

Oh, how I love that smirk! “How about ataxophobia?” I jested. Ellis laughed and smiled at me. “No, I think that’s all you!” I smiled back. It delighted me to no end that he knew

ataxophobia was the fear of disorder and untidiness. It was also very pleasant to hear him laugh—my skin was buzzing. I turned my body and tucked one leg under the other so I could face him as we talked. I also extended my arm and positioned it behind his shoulder so I could finger his hair. “Is it felinophobia?”

Ellis shook his head. “No, I don’t mind cats.”
“It’s definitely not bibliophobia. How about blennophobia?” Ellis furrowed his brow.
“Fear of slime,” I answered.
He chuckled. “No.”
“Katsaridaphobia? Decidophobia?”

Ellis shook his head and grinned as he reached over and took my right hand.

“Medomalacuphobia?”
“Nope.”
“Laliophobia?” I had to take a stab at that.

“No. I’m not afraid of talking, only afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

 

I squeezed his hand. “You realize we’re having a conversation Rob and Russ would be proud of.”

 

“Yeah. Probably.”

“So,” I mused, leisurely enjoying the softness of his hair and the mirth on his lips, “if you’re not afraid of disorder, cats, books, or slime, and you don’t fear cockroaches, making decisions, or losing an erection; and we ruled out a fear of speaking in general, then tell me, Mr. Montgomery, what phobia has you sitting on our couch for days unable to voice the reason you avoided me the day after we made love? That’s when this all started, correct?” I had a feeling of what might be going through his mind, but unless I ruled that out too, I’d be haunted by the possibility.

“You said our couch.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
He looked down. “Genophobia.”

Quickly I ran through the list of phobias I’d memorized. There were hundreds and certainly I couldn’t remember them all—that’s why I saved the phobia list under my “favorites” on my computer. Genophobia was…. “Fear of sex?” I asked with trepidation. It was the first time I didn’t want to be right.

Ellis nodded. “At first I thought maybe I was confused, like I really wasn’t gay.”

“I was wondering the same thing, actually,” I confessed. “But no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” “Good thoughts, I hope.”

He looked intently into my eyes. “Sexual thoughts,” he said with a rasp that bordered on lust.

 

My groin pulsed. “Oh? Then why…?”

“Genophobia? It’s my only logical conclusion. That morning,” he explained, “when I woke up with you in my arms, I felt so happy.”

“You did?” I wanted to believe him, but it juxtaposed the actual events that followed. “I guess I missed that part when I woke up alone.”

“I was happy. It felt so good to be with you and kiss you and touch you, but when I moved….” Ellis stopped and looked away.

“Ellis, if the chemistry isn’t right between us,” I speculated, “that’s fine. You just need to be honest with me. I’d rather keep you as a platonic best friend than lose what we have trying to force it to be more.”

“That’s not it, Cole!” Ellis snapped, and I jumped, not expecting such an outburst. Ellis gripped his fists like he was trying to will his sudden anger away. “I’m sorry,” he said in a more controlled tone. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay.”

 

“No, it’s not! I don’t want to yell at you, I want to yell at me. It’s all to do with me. I just don’t understand why I feel like this.” “Then tell me how you feel. I don’t understand what’s going on, and I don’t know how to help you if you don’t talk about it.”

Ellis rubbed his face and groaned. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve never had to explain my actions before. I’ve never loved anyone. It’s like I know in theory I should tell you what’s going on, but in practice I’m still the only one in the room.” Ellis looked painfully frustrated. “I’ve never had to think so hard in my life. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you—I do! I want way more than friendship.” He swallowed visibly and seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say. “I—Oh God, Cole, why does this have to be so fucking hard?”

I moved closer. I had my folded leg practically in his lap and my arm completely around his shoulders. “Hey, look at me,” I urged, cupping his cheek. When he looked into my eyes, I could see oceans of affection. “It doesn’t have to be hard. Just say it.”

After a couple minutes waffling between bolting out the door and spilling his guts—assuming those were the choices behind his darting eyes and jittering hands—Ellis spoke. “After we… you know….”

“If you can’t say it, we shouldn’t be doing it.” As soon as I said it, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t helping the situation. “Sorry,” I quickly said. “Shutting up.”

Ellis thankfully continued. “After we… made love… I woke up expecting to feel elated and relaxed and ready for more, but when I moved, all I felt was fear.”

“What do you mean ‘when you moved’?” He looked reluctant to explain. Why?

“I could feel you, still, inside of me, and it reminded me what we did. I felt trapped and violated and vulnerable. I wanted to touch you, but as I reached out I panicked. I felt ashamed, so I left.” He sniffled. “I’m sorry. No matter how incredible it felt while we did it, that was nothing compared to the terror I felt when I considered we might do it again. I don’t want to feel like that—degraded, or something… I don’t know.”

Ellis started crying. The depth of turmoil that had weighed heavy on his heart for so long burst forth. I guided him into a hug, and he leaned into me, burying his face in my neck. I was glad he wasn’t afraid to touch me. In this moment of honesty, I felt I needed to share some things too. “You know, you’re not the only one who felt out of sorts that morning.”

“Really?” he asked, snuggling into my neck and holding me around my waist.

“No,” I confirmed. “I wasn’t comfortable with everything we did either. At the time it felt good, but in the morning….” I left the possible reasons open-ended.

Ellis pulled back. “Why? I mean—you’ve done it before, was I that bad?”

“Gosh no!” I can’t believe he just jumped to that conclusion! I shook my head fervently. “Ellis, it wasn’t you. Let me try to explain it in a way you understand.” I took a deep breath and hoped he got what I was about to say, because I couldn’t think of any other explanation. “You’re a pitcher. I’m a catcher.”

“Huh?” He gave me that “WTF” expression and I knew I’d lost him. Damn!

I tried again. “Soccer! You know soccer.”
“Ah, yeah… so?”
“Okay, I’m a goalkeeper. You’re a striker.”
“Sometimes I play midfield—”
“Stop! I’m trying to use a metaphor here.”
“Oh, sorry. Please continue.”
“You’re a striker. You like to score.”

When I paused, he saw that I was waiting for an answer so he gave one. “Yeah, I love scoring.”

 

“Why?” I asked, hoping he would give me right what I was hoping for.

“Because I like to be in the spotlight. I like taking charge and feeling in control. I run the ball, pass to the open wings, and wait for the open shot to rip it.”

Perfect! I thought. Talking about soccer had relaxed his body language. I was on to something! “But you don’t like to play defense or goalkeeper?” I asked with an ulterior motive.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why?”

“Because I don’t like waiting for the ball to come to me. I like going after it! I respect the keeper because he has to defend the goal against some hard-angled shots, but I would much rather run the ball down the other end and take shot after shot against the other goal!”

“Exactly!” I said proudly.
“Exactly what?”
“You’re not the goalkeeper, I am.”
“Huh?”

Ellis didn’t get it. Crap! I guess I couldn’t explain it; I was just going to have to demonstrate. But how would I get him to go for the goal without looking like I was taking control of the field? Let’s see, more directness. Yeah. Ellis responded well to direct questions.

“Ellis,” I asked. “Do you love me?”

He scrunched his eyes again. If he didn’t stop doing that, I swear they’d stay in that position permanently. “I already told you that I do.”

“Don’t get huffy, just go with the question.”

“Yes, I love you, Cole. I love you a whole lot. You’re all I think about.” Ellis moved his hand and proceeded to stroke my thigh, which made me all fluttery, and I almost forgot what I was talking about.

“But you don’t want to….” I lifted my eyebrows suggestively.

“No.” He shook his head and looked down. “Maybe… I don’t know.” I hated the frustration that hung between us. I knew things would work out, but I needed him to see his desire to try. I let him sit and think as I rubbed the back of his neck.

My patience rewarded me when he looked up and started speaking again. “That night, in the tent, when I kissed you… I never thought it could feel like that. I avoided kissing girls for years because it felt weird to consider it. I didn’t want to do it just because everyone else was. Girls were pretty, but I didn’t want to do stuff with ’em. I wanted it to be special. I know that sounds dumb, but it’s how I felt at the time. And then I met you.” I could see desire creeping its way back into his expression—heady eyes, heavy breath. “Kissing you became this fantasy of mine. Every time I saw you biting your lip and playing with your mustache, I wanted to kiss you.”

“I do that?” I had to ask because playing with my mustache made me sound like a sixteen-year-old growing facial hair for the first time.

Ellis nodded. “Yeah, and I think it’s adorable. For weeks I watched you. I’d close my eyes and pretend to run my thumb over the hair on your lips and chin.” He reached up and touched me just as he described. Lightly. Delicately. His fingers tracing my lips made me salivate. I suddenly had the urge to suck on his fingers. “Then I kissed you and it was intoxicating. The whole time we kissed I wanted to fuck you so bad it about killed me holding back.”

“Why hold back?” I whispered, feeling my own desires churning.

 

“The guys were there. And then we came home to the apartment and I felt weird. Awkward. I didn’t know what to do.” “But you didn’t try.”

“I was worried I’d do it wrong. I knew you’d done it with other guys before, and you knew, because of Rob, that I hadn’t. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

I smiled. He was so sweet to want to please me. “I think I can almost guarantee that I won’t be disappointed.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I just do. But I think you need to stop worrying about it and go with what you feel. Do it, act on instinct. No second-guessing.”

“But—”
“No buts. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”

“Then kiss me again and see where it leads you. I guarantee it won’t feel the same as last time.”

 

“What if it leads me straight out that door?” He tilted his head toward the apartment door.

 

“And what if I’m right? Just kiss me.”

Ellis paused and licked his lips. He looked at me like he was scared to try yet also scared not to. One touch of his lips prompted more. Tiny kiss after tiny kiss evolved into harder rougher kisses laden with sloppy tongues and nipping teeth. I felt him slip his hands under my shirt and grip my ribs.

I moved to find a better position. I was peripherally aware of his leg and the cast and his inability to maneuver, so I maneuvered around him. I turned my hips and leaned back in his arms until my body lay across his lap and my head rested on the arm of the couch. Ellis put both arms around me and kissed me deeply. In seconds, he slipped his hand under my shirt again and explored my stomach. Then he moved his hand lower and groped me through my pajama bottoms. I moaned into his mouth, and Ellis slipped his hand inside my pants.

He wasn’t shy about touching me. He knew what felt good, and he wasn’t holding back. He gripped my length and tugged perfectly. I tilted my hips and whimpered. But no matter how wonderful it was to be in this position, this wasn’t the goal. Me getting off was not the plan. I wanted Ellis to feel his need to get off! I wanted Ellis to take hold of his desires and realize he wasn’t afraid of sex, only of penetration. Reluctantly I reached down and grabbed his hand.

Wordlessly, I slipped out of my pants and removed my shirt. Ellis quickly removed his own shirt and pulled me into another kiss. I worked my way into his lap again, this time straddling his hips. I kissed him and rocked myself against him. “Fuck me, please,” I rasped between kisses. “I want to ride you.” More kisses. “Let me ride you?”

Ellis’s hands squeezed my ass on both cheeks. “Are you sure?” he asked, tilting his hips to meet mine.

“Yes, Ellis. I want to feel you inside of me.” I leaned back and searched his face for any sign of fear. When none came, I carefully got off his lap and went to retrieve my lube and a condom. When I returned, he’d already removed his shorts and presently stroked his notably engorged cock.

I sooo wanted to suck it down, taste him and make him lose his mind, but I had to remind myself of the mission at hand—he needed to feel good about fucking me!

As soon as I got near enough to touch, Ellis mapped out my skin with his hands. He pulled me close and kissed my mouth and chin and neck while he massaged my hips and ass and thighs. He groaned, reached behind me, and ghosted over my entrance.

I tore the condom packet and reached for his penis. He stopped my hand.

I questioned him with my eyes. He didn’t look afraid; in fact, he appeared primed to ready. Ellis then removed the condom from my grasp and dropped it over the side of the couch. Does he realize what he’s saying? He stared at me with a heady intensity that accelerated my already racing heart. He did know what he was doing, and I moved over his hips as his hands guided me. Ellis grabbed the lube and slathered himself liberally.

I was nervous. I hadn’t been fucked in a long time. I knew it would feel impossibly tight, and probably hurt, but it was the price I’d pay for Ellis’s education. He needed this more than I did. I positioned myself over him and sank onto him as slowly as I could. Ellis threw his head back as my body enveloped him.

“Ohhh!” His chest heaved a grand sigh of pleasure. He gripped my hips and dug his short nails into my flesh. “Cooole.”

My ass hurt. It burned and my lower body felt impossibly full. The term “impaled” came to mind, but I knew from experience that soon the pain would subside and pleasure would replace it, I only needed to relax. I knew that in theory, but God, was he big! Thicker than me and longer than any guy I’d been with before, Ellis had no idea how many guys would line up to get fucked by such a beautiful cock! And this cock, the one that bore no barriers between its flesh and mine, declared exclusivity as soon as it sank into my core.

No condoms = no other partners.
Ellis had silently told me he was mine.
I panted, trying to will away my discomfort enough to move. “You okay?” Ellis asked, touching my face tenderly.

Was I okay? He had no idea how “okay” I was to be joined like this with the man I loved. I nodded. “Just give me a second.” After that second and a few more seconds, I lifted my hips and then came back down. The motion awarded me with those little electric shocks I craved so much. Again I slid up and then came down, up and down; undulating like ripples on a lake and picking up the pace with every wave of pleasure. As I tilted my hips forward, I felt his head graze over my prostate, and I hitched my breath. The internal explosion of endorphins that followed each downward thrust spurned me on to wilder and faster heights of gratification. Even the burning in my thighs would not slow me down.

Ellis was howling as I rode him. He grunted and clenched his teeth, breathing hard as he watched my every move. “I’m gonna… come… ahhh, Cooole!” he warned me. Ellis met my downward thrust with an upward tilt just as I started spurting all over his chest. I milked the jets of semen from myself as Ellis held my hips firmly, jutting upward in quick movements until his ejaculation was complete.

I sagged against him, threw my arms around his neck, and tucked my face against his hair. There wasn’t an inch of me that wasn’t teeming with adrenaline. I felt so alive and yet so vulnerable. I’d never felt so close to another person in my life. Even the first time he and I made love, it hadn’t ended like this because it went against my nature to take charge as I had before.

This—right here, right now—was where I wanted to be. Not there. I needed Ellis to be inside of me, always, and as we sat on the couch, still connected, I felt scared that he might not feel the same. He held me tight, and I felt him gliding his hand up and down my bare back.

“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” I answered back, kissing his ear and neck. “Are you crying?” he asked.
“No.” Why would I cry? That would be stupid.
“Then why is my shoulder wet?”

I sniffled and leaned back. Yup, his shoulder was wet with fresh tears. I was crying and had no idea why. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I wiped my eyes hastily.

“I do,” Ellis replied with a kiss. He looked at me with the most loving expression I’d ever seen on anybody. He caressed my cheek and coaxed me back into his embrace. He held me against him for the longest time.

Before long, I realized how sticky I felt and how much my thighs were killing me. I had to change positions no matter how much I wanted to remain where I was, interlocked with Ellis. “I think I need to move,” I said.

Ellis loosened his hold around me. “Yeah. I know.”

His softened appendage, which slipped from my body, left me wanting. “Oh man, my legs hurt!” I complained as I crumpled onto the cushions next to Ellis. “I don’t think I can make it to the bathroom for a towel.”

Ellis giggled. “I’ll go.” He was up before I could protest, hopping across the floor. It amazed me how steady and coordinated he was on one leg. In fact, I think he hopped with more balance on one foot, than I had standing on two. I watched him hop back into the room with a come-free chest and a damp towel. “Here. I know what Jonathan said about your ‘no sex on the couch’ rule.”

“Jonathan.” I shook my head. I took the offered towel and grinned. “Thanks.” I wiped my sticky chest and groin, but the rest of the splooge would probably come out as I showered. Oooh, shower! “Ellis, do you want to shower with me?” I asked, looking up at him as he watched me wiping off.

Carefully he bent down until he was kneeling on one knee, keeping his weight off the other. He kissed my forehead. “I thought you’d never ask.” He winked.
“Ellis?”

“Yeah?”

 

I stood up and followed his hopping self to the bathroom. I needed to know something first. “Was I right?”

 

He hopped closer and caressed my shoulder, and then he kissed me and smiled, saying, “You were right.”

It made me happy to hear. Although I liked being correct, in reality I was only right 80 percent of the time. I’d banked on this occasion falling in the larger ratio.

He turned on the water and faced me as I brought in a plastic bag and some tape for his cast. (Rob and I had figured out how to get him showered with a bag over his cast the day we got him home.) Ellis continued his thought. “In fact, that felt so damn good, I think I’m going to have to fuck you again, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. You up for it?”

I chuckled in response.

 

ELLIS was so different in the days that followed.

I’d expected to sleep alone that night and possibly for days or weeks until his cast was off; what I didn’t expect was the complete romantic sap that greeted me the next morning and many other mornings. I was standing at the sink, filling the coffeepot, when I felt Ellis slide his arms around my waist. He pressed his chest against my back and kissed my neck, sighing in my ear, “Good morning.”

“Yeah. I guess it is.” I set the pot on the counter and turned off the water.

Ellis rocked me gently in his arms as he continued to kiss my neck. He nipped me and made his way up to my ear. He sounded hungry, and the hard object pressed against my backside made me wonder if he had more than breakfast in mind.

“Is that a hammer in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?” I asked.

Ellis chuckled deep in his throat and turned me around. The look in his eyes was downright licentious. He dipped his head and tongued my Adam’s apple, nipping my throat and making me whimper in the most helpless of ways. I’d never felt so powerless to pull away from anyone in my life. By the time he kissed my mouth, I was nothing but Jell-O wearing sweatpants, seconds from melting onto the floor. He kissed me deep and long and had me making all kinds of desperate needy sounds.

I could barely see when he leaned back, smiling, ever so pleased with himself.

 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he asked, looking into my eyes with wonder and contentment written on his face.

 

“Oh,” I replied in my stupor. I was finding it extremely difficult to think clearly.

Ellis rubbed my back and touched my face. “Yeah.” He kissed me again and then pulled away. He took the coffeepot and poured the contents into the machine. “I wish I didn’t have class,” he lamented. “I’d love to lay around the apartment all day, kissing you and hearing all those little whimpers you make.”

“Class?” My fog was dissipating. “Crap, I have class too. Can’t we skip class?” It sounded logical to me. I didn’t want him to do anything else either, unless it involved lube and Ellis moaning my name. “It takes you so long to get to class on crutches. Can’t they make another exception?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. Class. My professors have been very lenient already. Plus, my mom would kill me if my grades dropped and she found out it was over a guy.”

“Oh, your parents don’t know you’re gay, do they.” It was something I suspected but not a topic we discussed.

“No. But that’s not the issue I’m getting at. My mom would get mad if my grades dropped because of a boyfriend. It’s not the gay part, as much as not letting myself get distracted by a relationship. My sister’s gay. And although they don’t know about me, I’m sure they’ll be cool about it. Who knows, my mom probably suspects anyway. I haven’t had a girlfriend. And the way I practically begged to come back and stay with you while my leg is broken probably gave away my orientation.”

I put some bread in the toaster. “Probably. You were pretty obvious about it.”

 

“I know. I’ll tell them after finals are over. Right now, I gotta get out of here.” He leaned in and kissed me again. “See you later?” “Yeah.”

ELLIS was like this “affection monster” who got switched on one day and never looked back. He touched me every time he walked— hopped—by me; a caress here, a kiss there, and sometimes a light pat or squeeze on my butt. I never would have expected it, but I was certainly not complaining. He used to be so “contained,” but now that restraint wasn’t necessary, he just… didn’t. I’d never seen him so relaxed. And you know? I’d never seen me so relaxed. His gentleness and genuine joy at being around me rubbed off in the most surprising of ways. I felt giddy.

He kissed me often, but so far we’d only had sex twice. The shower was not a particularly intelligent choice since it’s wet and slippery and he only had one good leg to stand on. We tried, but gave up for fear of breaking the other leg. I helped him shower and promised to control myself as I washed him, and it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. The key was to tease enough to make it fun but not to the point of full-on arousal.

JUST before Thanksgiving break, I came home to find a stimulating surprise: Ellis had cleaned the apartment for the second time! The smell of disinfectant filled the air and I felt my groin pulse in response. I looked around. The carpet was vacuumed, the television was shiny, the bookshelf was straightened, and ceiling fan was dusted. And it wasn’t even my birthday! I suppose I could be seen as a complete loser by getting an erection from a clean apartment, but I did. And the best part was that Ellis knew I would.

I walked into the kitchen and dinner was ready for me— candlelight and everything! I could have cried.

 

“I wanted to make it special since we won’t be together over Thanksgiving,” I heard him say behind me.

I turned and there he stood, leaning on one crutch. He had on my favorite science T-shirt and his red basketball shorts. (Basketball shorts were the easiest to change over the cast, and my “What is the speed of dark?” T-shirt never ended up in my drawer after I washed it. Curious.)

“Everything looks great. And the place smells wonderful.” “I wanted it to be perfect.”

“It is,” I said, stepping up and then wrapping my arms around him. I kissed his lips and pressed my body into his. Since this was a “special occasion” and classes were done until Monday, and because I wouldn’t see him for a few days, I was hoping tonight we could try a little of what ZZ Top called “The Tube Snake Boogie.” Sex wasn’t the main concern in a relationship. If you asked any housewife from here to California, communication and conversation were key, but in a man-on-man relationship, as far as I was concerned, sex was communication!

I had never had the prospect of recurrent sexual satisfaction before, and now that it was on the horizon, I wasn’t backing away. I held myself in check purely out of concern for his broken leg and the cast that always seemed to be in the way. Once that puppy was off, look out, Ellis! Here comes your willing sex slave. (Of course he had no idea how far I’d go to please him! I’m not even sure I did.)

Ellis groaned, pawing my rear end. “Later, sugar. Let’s eat first while it’s still warm.”

 

He hopped into the kitchen, and I questioned with an arched eyebrow, “Sugar?”

Ellis leaned the crutch on the counter and bent to open the oven door. “You don’t like it?” He took out a roast turkey, balancing on one leg. Of course he’d never ask for help!

“No. Makes me think you’re from the south, which you’re not. Can’t you just call me Cole?”

 

“I could, but where’s the fun in that? Honey.” He winked at me while stirring what I presumed was gravy.

 

“Honey? Um, no. I’m not voting for a nickname that reminds me of Winnie the Pooh.”

“Sweetie?”
“Exercising my right of veto.”
“Darling?”
“As in Wendy Darling? I’m not Peter Pan.”

“Is there any endearment that you can’t ascribe to a movie or children’s character?”

 

“Cole.”

“Cole is not an endearment. Cole is the person my endearment describes.” He slapped his hands together with excitement. “How about Napoleon or Hitler?”

I tilted my head and scowled. “You want to nickname me after dictators?”

 

“You are a dictator. You like to control things, and you enjoy manipulating people to get what you want. ”

 

“I like Cole. It’s my name. It’s short and easy to remember.”

“And I’m still going to call you something… how about lover or sex kitten?” He smiled in a way that told me I wouldn’t win. I pinched my lips shut before the choices got worse. I’d have to endure whatever he chose anyway. (I really hoped it wasn’t “honey” or “darling.” They seemed so girlish.) Ellis pointed to the table set for two. “Wash your hands and have a seat.”

I did so, and a splendid repast was set before me: mashed potatoes, green beans, turkey, gravy, stuffing; everything my mom made but in smaller portions. He’d even made me a salad although he never ate them. I felt so spoiled.

Ellis hopped back in the kitchen to grab another spoon, and I reached for the salad dressing. As he hopped back in, he commented about fetching a pillow for his leg, and I jumped up. “Let me,” I said. “You’ve done so much already!”

When I returned, and he had sufficiently arranged his limb on an adjacent chair, I reached for my fork. Ellis, to my surprise, scooped salad onto his plate. “Feeling adventurous?” I asked.

“Feeling guilty,” he answered. “Mom keeps telling me I need to eat more green vegetables.”

 

“I’m not sure iceberg lettuce even counts as a vegetable. I think it’s 99 percent water.”

Ellis reached across the table for the same dressing I’d used. I didn’t realize what he was about to do until he proceeded to shake it. “The lid’s not—!” I held up an urgent hand but stopped midsentence as the lid to the bottle went flying and French dressing painted my ceiling. I gasped.

Ellis lifted his eyes and surveyed the splatter that had sufficiently spread its fingers across wall, ceiling, and shirt alike. When his gaze returned to mine, he smirked and said, “Oops.”

Aghast by his negligence and even more so by his flippancy, I found myself at a loss for words. “You…. I…. The lid….” My mouth hung open, but I couldn’t form a proper sentence. It should not surprise me when things like this occurred in Ellis’s presence, yet it did. Then a generous glop dripped from the ceiling and landed right in the middle of the mashed potatoes. “Oh!” I cried.

“It can all be cleaned up,” Ellis reasoned calmly.

“But my house….” I interjected in a shrill voice. My hysteria was on the verge of epic proportions, but just as I attempted to finish my thought and chastise Ellis for his folly, he scooped the dressingcovered potatoes from the bowl with his fingers and flung them at me. “Ah!” I shrieked, more astonished than ever.

Ellis looked way too pleased as he grinned at me. He reached out and flicked another dollop in my direction.

 

“Stop!”

 

Ellis laughed and repeated his action. The potatoes were followed by a generous amount of roughage from his plate. My heart seized and leaped into my throat. This could not be real. Ellis was not throwing food at me!

“Come on, fight back.” Ellis egged me on by adding turkey bits and stuffing chunks to his ammo selection. “You know you want to. It’s fun. Try it.” More turkey, more lettuce. “Just once.” Potatoes hit me in the eye, covering one lens of my glasses and slowly sliding off to my cheek.

That was it! I’d hit my limit of tolerance. I stood, seething under the potato mask that Ellis had kindly decorated me with, and pounded my fists on the table. “That’s enough!” I bellowed right before another scoop landed in my mouth. Then gravy followed.

Ellis was snickering, proud as a peacock.

I removed my glasses and scraped the mush from my eye as I chewed on the potatoes in my mouth—they were good, by the way—and glared at him. He was so smug. He laughed at my dismay and threw it back in my face. But still, he was awfully cute as he sat there. His eyes glinted mischievously, as they often did, especially around his friends. His laugh was pleasing to my ears, as was normally the case, even if I didn’t enjoy the circumstances for it. As I stared, his laughter quieted and his eyes grew more shameless and less mirthful. His smirk transformed into an amused challenge of retaliation. Would I return fire? Or would I simply leave the table and retrieve my cherished mop and bucket?

I held his gaze as I reached out and scooped up a copious amount of potatoes. Ellis didn’t even duck as I threw them! In fact, as the potatoes hit his chin and neck, his mouth hung open in shock. A spilt second later, he was reaching for something else to fling and I was doing the same. The richly laden table became a free-for-all of edible ammunition. I didn’t know what I was grabbing as I flung handfuls of comestibles to defend myself. Ellis was faster with his hands, but I was quicker on my feet as we stood on opposite sides, dancing around the edges of the small table, splattering each other with our dinner.

Never in my wildest imagination would I have considered this type of juvenile behavior fun! But it was. To my chagrin and my astonishment, my heart was racing with cheerful exhilaration. Ellis was laughing heartily and I along with him. Flinging and tossing and lobbing whatever I could in his direction, I made my way around the table. Ellis, who didn’t attempt to flee, grabbed my waist as soon as I stood near enough, hauled me in, and forcefully claimed my mouth with a commanding kiss.

I tasted Thanksgiving dinner on his lips and tongue as we groped each other and sank clumsily to the food-covered floor.

Unlike before, in our other attempts to make love in a plannedout and meticulous manner, this was primal and impromptu. Ellis pressed his body against mine and groaned as he roamed his hands all over me. “You have too many clothes on,” he mentioned as he lifted the hem of my shirt and shoved it over my head. He rolled off me only to strip, careful to work the shorts over his cast yet less mindful of his leg than before. It seemed sex was more urgent.

I slipped out of my jeans and waited for his next move.

Ellis came back over me, pulling my leg over one shoulder as he rocked into me. With one knee on the floor and the other lifted slightly, Ellis leaned his weight to one side. He didn’t bother to guard his cast or leg from injury, but I made sure not to add to that potential by wrapping my other leg over his hip, safely out of the way.

He explored me with his hands and practically devoured me with his mouth. He bit my neck and pinched my nipples. I felt him cup my balls and then he slid his finger into my crack. He only paused to suck on his finger before pressing it inside me, much like I had done to him. I moaned and mewled, happier than I had ever been before. He pumped my ass with his fingers and once or twice ghosted over that spot inside, making me beg for him to do it again. That knot of nerves hadn’t been stimulated in more than a week, and I hungered for it even more than the food that littered the floor around us. But his fingers weren’t enough. I needed more. Much more.

“Ellis, please,” I begged. “I need you. Please fuck me.”

He growled and chuckled deep in his throat, and I felt the vibrations of it through his chest into mine. It wasn’t “ha ha” funny laughter, either; it was that of enjoyment and satisfaction. I could tell he got off on making me beg.

I eagerly complied. “Please. Ellis. Pleeease. I want you. I need you. Please.”

He leaned back and positioned himself. He looked me in the eyes and pushed in. I swear debaucherous lust, laced with fire, radiated from his gaze and enveloped me as he sank in completely, claiming another scorching kiss as we joined. I surrendered everything to him. Ellis was indeed the master, and I would willingly submit to anything he desired.

On our kitchen floor, he conquered me.

Not that he set out initially to prove his dominance, but I think he discovered it in those first few thrusts. He didn’t take it slow, and he didn’t hesitate but for a few seconds. Ellis exploded in a sexually propelled rapture that consumed his being and drove his ambition, and I was the catalyst. He thrust into me deeper and harder, until I thought I’d split apart from his dynamic force. He practically snarled in my ear like a wild beast, and I could tell he was close to climax. He grabbed my knee and roughly pushed it higher, opening me wider as he let out an inhuman roar.

This was unlike anything I had ever experienced in the past. I struggled for breath as I held onto him in our throes of passion. The friction between our bellies was enough to tip me over the edge and I erupted like Vesuvius. And while the rush of semen shot ribbons over my chest, I helplessly rode out Ellis’s newfound primal inclinations with loud exclamations. “Oh fuck! Ellis! Fuck!” He pushed me over the edge and kept me there longer than anyone had.

Ellis, too, shouted his triumph robustly as he collapsed over me in the end, panting in my ear.

I hugged him tightly as I huffed and puffed, attempting to regain my composure. I felt him slip from inside me, and again felt disappointment. I wanted that connection. I needed that connection. Ellis was the one. I knew that he was, and it scared me.

Ellis repositioned himself next to me and searched my face with his eyes. He touched my cheek and jaw tenderly, as if seeing me for the first time. I could feel him trembling against me. “Marry me.”

I blinked in response. “What?” Surely I’d misheard him.

“Will you marry me?” he asked again, soft yet sure, caressing my cheek and brushing his fingers over the hairs of my mustache. “I love you, Cole. There’s nothing about you that doesn’t make me tingle all over every time you’re in the room. Even your infuriating quirks make me buzz with anticipation because when you yell or grumble or protest something or other I’ve done, all I envision is ripping your clothes off and fucking you blind, like I did just now. Every inch of me wants nothing more than to be with you. Always. Every day, and everywhere. So… marry me.”

I swallowed hard. He’d rendered me speechless once again. His words were unexpected, yet inspired. Yes, he was being irrational and impetuous, but he was also romantic and sentimental. Ellis, I thought as I gazed lovingly into his eyes, God brought me this beautiful man—my soccer-playing English major—and he asked me to marry him! I could not thank God enough. Insane or not, I said, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. But you do realize it’s not legalized in PA, right?”

He smiled and shook his head, tolerating my negativity. “You’re impossible.” He leaned in, kissing me with sloppy, slurping sounds that made me giggle. Seconds later he pulled back and asked very seriously, “You know what?”

“What?”

 

“My leg fucking hurts! I gotta get off this floor.” He sat up and grabbed for the table’s edge. “Help me up?”

I did. And then I surveyed our mess. “Oh,” I whimpered in that sad way little kids do when their favorite toy gets broken. I wanted to cry.

Then Ellis rubbed my stomach. “I’ll clean it, Cole.” My blurry eyes found his.

“I’ll clean it up, I promise. Just let me grab a shower and take some ibuprofen. Okay?”

 

His expression was so comforting. “Okay,” I said weakly. Ellis carefully leaned over and picked up his shorts from the floor, and that was when I heard the front door close.

“Culinary catastrophes, Batman, what happened in here?” Rob exclaimed, surveying the walls, floor, and table. “Did Linda Blair visit, and not like the menu?”

I looked at Rob. He looked at Ellis. Then he looked at me, and his expression immediately changed from bemused observance to shocked revelation. “My eyes, my eyes!” he exclaimed as he looked away, holding one hand over his face and the other out in front of him.

Ellis, who found humor in this, calmly rationalized, “I guess you won’t use the key I gave you without knocking first. Will ya?”

For some reason, I always had to point out holes in people’s reasoning. “In Rob’s defense, you did say, ‘Feel free to walk right in so I don’t need to get off the couch.’” (I even reminded him with a mocking tone of his voice. Don’t judge—Rob would have done the same.)

Ellis didn’t comment but his glower sufficed. I grinned unapologetically.
The banter between us didn’t matter once Rob pronounced loudly, “You’re naked!” He was still covering his eyes and extending his other arm as if to keep us at bay. I wish I had a camera.
Ellis, unfazed, didn’t overreact to his behavior. Instead he said, “You’ve seen me naked before, Rob. It’s only been a couple of weeks since you helped me take a shower. Plus, remember last year, when Russ’s little brother threw up his pizza and orange juice all over my lap?”
Rob tentatively lowered his hand. I could see the gears churning behind his expression, and then slowly a grin appeared on his lips. “Oh yeah.” He chuckled quietly. “That was really funny. The orange juice made it all slimy and it soaked through to your underwear.” He laughed some more and slapped a hand against his stomach and tilted his head back.

Ellis chuckled and added, “And Russ said I could borrow his clothes.”

Rob pointed his finger at Ellis, laughing even harder. “And he tried to get you to wear his Spiderman underwear, but you protested, saying—”

Rob and Ellis said in unison, “Nothing but Batman will do.” They both laughed, and Rob seemed to relax. That is, until his eyes caught me again.

“Ah, man!” He cringed, looking away. “I know I’ve seen you naked, El, but that was before… before you and Cole… I just can’t look.”

“It’s not like I have different parts, Rob. I look exactly the same,” Ellis tried, but Rob still slipped into the other room. “Ellis, I can’t,” he said, heading toward the door. “It’s weird.”

“Wait,” Ellis interjected, hopping like the Easter Bunny after him. When Rob stopped walking, Ellis sat on the chair and wrestled his shorts on over the cast. He gesticulated for me to do the same. And although the notion seemed futile given the fact I was covered in drying food particles, I did as asked and pulled my jeans on. It felt yucky. Ellis hastily hopped over to the door before Rob ran out of patience. “How about now?” Ellis asked. “Stay?”

Rob slowly turned a skeptical eye in his direction and then conceded with a half grin, “Okay. I guess that’s fine. I’ll stay.”

“So… you knew about me and Cole?” Ellis liked to ask those obvious questions, either out of sheer ignorance or simply to make sure he wasn’t incorrect in his assumptions.

“Yeah, El. Besides the poem, it was evident the first time you brought him to breakfast. You know how I sense things.”

Ellis smirked. “Please, no Jedi mind tricks.”
“Promise.”

I had this sadistic notion to add my two cents. So as I strolled over to join them by the door, I said, “Besides the fact he heard us kissing in the tent.”

“What?” The shock on Ellis’s face was priceless.

Rob’s also did not disappoint. He looked at me and sighed. “You know, Cole, sometimes it’s okay not to share everything we talk about.”

“I know,” I said, amused. “But it’s more fun this way.” “Argh,” he grunted with a gust of aggravation, but I could tell he was exaggerating.

Ellis was stunned but recovered quickly. “So, does it bother you?” I could see he was hoping for a “no” on that one. Plus, his voice went up an octave on the end of his question.

Rob gestured halfheartedly. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to grasp the concept that you’re gay. I don’t know how I feel about it. All I know is that you love that guy.” Rob tipped his head in my direction.

“I do.” Ellis looked at me. I swear if he looked at me one more time with that much affection, I would melt. My knees went weak with his slight glance.

Rob pursed his mouth on one side. “Then I guess I have to accept that. You’re like a brother, Ellis. I’m not forsaking my brother because he’s in love with a dude. I just don’t want to see the two dudes naked, covered in turkey and mashed potatoes. What is up with that?” Rob asked as if completely baffled. “You guys are downright weird!”

Ellis smiled and I joined in. “I love you, Rob,” Ellis said.

“I love you too, man. Only… let’s never speak of this again. I’m not sure I want Russ to know I walked in on you guys naked. He’ll ask too many inane questions.”

“Got it.”

Rob looked to me and pointed. “And you, my friend, should use gravy as a hair product more often. The spiked look suits you!” I knew he was poking fun at me.

“Oh God.” I reached up and felt my hair. It was spiked as well as sticky, and I distinctly felt lumps of mashed potato in it.

“Hey, Rob, I was about to take a shower. Will you stay long enough for me to get cleaned off and then maybe help me clean up the kitchen?” Ellis gave him his pathetic expression. “Please? I promised my Cole I wouldn’t leave it for him to do.”

Rob heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll stay and help. But don’t fill in the details on what happened in there. I don’t need to know.”

Ellis grinned and slapped him on the back. “Agreed.” Rob started for the kitchen. “And don’t whine at me with lines like, ‘I can’t clean ’cause my leg hurts,’ or I’ll seriously kick your tushy when that cast comes off on the third!”

Rob altered his pitch as he mocked Ellis, and I just about fell on the floor laughing! I think he enjoyed my laughter at Ellis’s expense because he did it some more. “I can’t sweep, Rob. My leg. My leg,” he chirped, sounding more like Sara than Ellis. I was dying. “Oh, I gotta lie down. You’ll do it all for me, won’t you, Rob? You’re my best pal!”

Ellis, although laughing too, hopped up behind him and gave him a shove. “Shut up! I don’t sound like that!”

“Oh, Rob. I’m in so much pain. Please do this for me.” “Shut up!”

“Dude, you totally sound like that,” I added, holding my sides and then wiping the tears from my eyes. (I think I really like Rob.) My mirth was silenced by another scoop of mashed potatoes.

Rob howled with laughter.

THE “Boy Wonder” helped Ellis clean up and then we ordered a pizza. (It was a joke to call him that, but he really did appear to be Ellis’s sidekick.) After Xbox and hours of laughing, Rob left and it was time for bed. I walked into my room and found my bed stripped of linens. When did that happen? “Ellis,” I called as I meandered back into the living room, “what’d you do with my….”

The answer to my question was set up on the living room floor. He must have made haste while I brushed my teeth because my blankets and pillow were arranged on the floor next to his.

“Sleep with me?” he asked.

How could I turn that down? I sank to my knees and crawled over to him. Ellis kissed me, and then we curled up together on the floor. He leaned over me and dreamily said, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened in my life.”