If It Weren't For the Two of Us Chapter 1
Welcome new readers. Some notes upfront here.
If It Weren't For the Two of Us is a continuation of a previous story, Extracurricular (which is also in Adult Friends on Nifty). It involves a relationship that has started between a man that is 30 and a younger man finishing college. That story was told from the older man's perspective. If It Weren't For the Two of Us features the college senior as the protagonist. Much like jumping into the Star Wars canon with The Empire Strikes Back, you can pick up quickly, but there is some backstory still to enjoy in Extracurricular.
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1
It sat here for four days. I stared at it on my desk. I had spent most of Spring Break here at my parents' house. It was delivered on Monday. Mom and Dad thought it was a wonderful gift — a former teacher giving me a journal to encourage me to write as I approached graduation. Mike didn't include anything mushy with it. Just a card that said:
"You are an amazing writer. Find time to put your thoughts down and have them at your fingertips. I hope you develop your talents for years to come.
— Michael Terry"
The card clearly conveyed nothing overly personal. I'm sure that was intentional in case my parents were the ones to open the package or if they inquired about the card. That was smart on his part. I texted him to say it had been delivered and to thank him for it. I told him it was beautiful. He texted back saying he was glad that it arrived and that he loved me.
But here it was. Fresh and unopened. The virginity of a simple seal still intact. What could I write? What should I write? Should I journal my days? Should I write a play? Poetry? Hate mail to the gods for making me gay? Love letters to fate for letting me find Mike? The magnitude of the blank pages was overwhelming.
I texted Mike.
"I should write something in the journal. I'm not sure how to start. Suggestions?"
I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of lemonade. Mom made a fresh pitcher. Tons of sugar, but who cares? I would burn off the calories with a run after dinner.
Mike and I had been apart for only ten days. It felt like a decade. I missed him. I missed everything.
As I returned to my bedroom, I heard my phone buzz on the desk. I sat down my drink and opened the screen. It was Mike. My heart leapt. It always did when I saw his face appear. Yet after I read texts from him, I felt a bit sad. What a manic/depressive way to communicate.
"I'm always here when you need me, but while we aren't side by side, you can always share your thoughts on paper. It can be quite therapeutic."
I stared at the book of blank paper. I'm not sure if I was even blinking or breathing. Until I grabbed a pen.
March 20
This journal arrived this week. It was a gift from Mike. He thinks it's a good idea to get my thoughts down. This is me, giving it a go.
The Big Pause
It's 10 days that we have stepped away from each other. I'm not sure how to define this break, this pause we are supposed to be on. He felt we started out wrong; we just jumped into a relationship immediately not allowing for it to take place naturally. He also knew that our time together was hurting me at school. In hindsight, he was definitely right. I'm in much better shape at school than when we were seeing each other almost every day. I'm caught up with everything except the research paper. I expect to be done with that tomorrow. Knowing me, I'll fiddle with it and edit it the whole weekend, but I feel good about my classes. As much as I would love to start things back up with Mike again, things would fall into the same trap. I would fall behind. I can get through these 10 weeks, right?
As good as I feel about school, my heart is so lonely for him. I want him so bad. To talk to. To be with. To have sex with. I know he wants me to make sure I have things figured out, that I just didn't settle for him on the first try. I imagine I could find someone to date on campus. But why? No one else is him. I love him. I don't want that to change.
Okay. There. I started.
Dinner was great. I liked being on my own at school, away from home. Mom's cooking, however, was sorely missed. Every now and then, I should just make a point to come home for dinner. It would be a distraction, but probably good for all of us. I told her that at dinner. I think it made her feel good.
However, I could tell I was eating too much at home. Mom kept bringing me snacks. We didn't have sugary stuff around the apartment. I'm surprised Kevin and Paul were as health conscious as I was. Visiting other people's college apartments, some were stocked like vending machines.
I needed to work off some calories. I planned to go run. Things had been fairly good with Dad over spring break. We didn't do a whole lot, but we seemed to be getting along pretty well. I asked him if he wanted to join me for a jog. That didn't really interest him, but I think he appreciated knowing I wanted to spend time with him. That was something I supposed.
I hadn't ever paid attention much before, but my parents' neighborhood was rather nice. The taller trees gave me the option to run in the shade, or I could move to the other side of the street and catch the evening sun.
Others were out jogging. I nodded to a couple walking by. They were followed by a woman slightly older than me, but apparently a new mom, judging by her shirt. "Working off the baby fat, one calorie at a time," it said. You can find anything on a T-shirt I supposed, and if it motivated her, well then good for her.
A gentleman in his late 20s was heading toward me. He was shirtless and looked like he worked out a lot. His muscles were well defined, and frankly, bulging a bit. In months past, I would have been afraid to stare, but now I looked at him the entire time. He was quite built. His chest had a bit of hair in a vertical stripe going to his navel, but it was nothing like Mike's. The sweat on his body matted the hair to his flesh. Definitely good looking. As he ran, I noticed his package bobbing up and down in his loose shorts. I no longer tried to deny I was gay. I imagined what his dick looked like under that fabric.
Clearly, it had been almost two weeks since I had sex. I was evidently rather horny. I thought about sex quite a bit, but being under the same roof as your parents sort of squelches those thoughts. I only jacked off once since being home for Spring Break. Tonight, I seemed overdue for another bit of "me" time. I loved being loud with Mike, but as long as I could slip back into old high school habits, I could manage the job quietly here at the house.
I remembered Dad walking in my room when I was still at home during high school. I was looking at a picture of a guy on my computer. Not completely naked, but it was pretty close. It was certainly sensual. I couldn't close the screen quickly enough. Dad saw. He rebuked for looking at such stuff, saying we won't have "that" in our house. We were never the same after that. It was never mentioned. I tried my hardest for so many years to keep suppressing those feelings. I could never completely make them go away. This year — senior year — it all unraveled. I knew I liked looking at guys. I was drawn to them. And even though I made myself admit, I couldn't act on it. I couldn't even say anything to anybody.
Until Mike.
I ran for more than an hour. It was almost dark when I returned. Mom scolded me for taking so long. As moms do, she got concerned. The run did me good though. Surely, I burned off a lot of the desserts she kept feeding me this week. But I needed a shower.
I grabbed some night clothes and walked quickly down the hall to the bathroom. This one was so much cleaner than the apartment — and Mike's big bathroom was too, of course. Our apartment never really bothered me much for not being spotless, but I guess Mike and Mom have made me a bit more self-conscious. At least I will return Sunday with all clean clothes and clean sheets. Mom, bless her.
The shower felt good. I loved the scented soaps we had in the house. They always made me feel like I was home. Once I got out on my own, I should make a point to make sure my place has them.
I wondered where that place would be? Graduation was only two months away, but I'd never really thought about where I might live. I just assumed a job would take me somewhere. Or I'd live at home. I guess I'm not in a huge rush, but did my parents want me to just stay with them after graduation? That seemed lame. I would love to live close to Mike. What would I be able to afford? What is even available over there? Hopefully, he would still want me. I could pop over and spend the night whenever we wanted.
Thoughts of spending the night got me hard. I slicked up my cock with suds and playfully just pulled on it with both hands like it was lubricated ice. I loved being hard. Accepting that I was gay had made being aroused so much easier. I jacked my cock for a couple of minutes but didn't plan to come in the shower. That was for later.
All clean, I put on pajamas and an old T-shirt and went back to the living room. Dad asked if I would like some popcorn. It sounded good. The three of us watched a little television and the news. Following that, they turned in for the night.
With lights out, we all went to our rooms. My old room hadn't changed a lot since I went off to college. I would have to assume that would change after graduation. When I moved out, would I want to take any of this stuff with me?
I took off all my clothes. I wanted to sleep naked. I wanted to think about Mike. As I crawled between the sheets and turned out my lamp, I pictured his body in my mind. I remembered the first time I saw it when he ripped off his shirt and pants las month in his high school gym. It was so hot to see him undress. I had secretly thought about it during high school — a few times at least. Just to see and then touch and then feel that hairy chest. And then it actually happened seven years later. We touched each other everywhere — and that shower. Crazy.
My cock was getting bigger, and my hand reached down to pull on it. I groped and fondled while it reached its full length. I begin stroking my dick while trying not to moan. My parents were on the other side of the house, but I wasn't taking chances. I just laid there feeling good, pumping my hard-on.
My thoughts drifted to that shower. I jerked harder as I remembered Mike fingering my ass and placing his cock inside me for the first time. We hardly knew each other, and we fucked like mad. It was so hot, almost like a fantasy. It was a huge mistake in his mind, but it really was like a fantasy. Remembering him coming inside me made me stroke my cock faster. I could feel the veins begin to pulse in my shaft. My erection was feeling good. I tried to stay silent, but my breathing was stronger, heavier.
I pictured Lance barging in on us. Both of us wanted his cock. I remember fucking him, the first person I would ever fuck. Mike watched until he started sucking Lance's cock. The three of us were so hot. Three studs with beautiful cocks going after it. Such raw sex in such a wrong setting made it even wilder. I remember coming inside Lance. It made me want to come now.
My arm worked a steady rhythm on my erection. It felt so hard, so strong. Thoughts of that three-way were so masculine to me. It was just male lust. My grip around my dick grew tighter.
My breathing made a soft moan. I didn't think my parents could hear, but I didn't care. My hips bucked and I could feel the climax rising. I jerked my cock with such force. Then I came. I felt the first blast hit my chest. It was good. Then more. Then more. I jerked harder wanting even more cum to hit my body. Once I knew I could get no more liquid to flow from my cock, my stroking slowed but didn't stop. I still fondled my cock for a minute or two. My breathing had resumed to normal. I played with my balls as I felt the cum on my chest slowly spread. I took one finger and wrote Mike's name through the splatter, using my chest as a canvas.
I didn't want to clean up. I wanted everything that made me feel like a man to stay plastered to my body. But I knew I would be leaving these sheets in a couple days. I smeared all my cum into a thin layer on my chest and then got up from the bed. I grabbed my damp towel I had brought back from the shower and wiped my chest clean. I threw it to the floor.
I laid back down. It was silly, but I moved the other pillow to my side wishing it were Mike's body lying next to me. I thought about us until I fell asleep.
—
Mike had texted me twice during the week with pictures from his vacation with his parents. He was enjoying his Spring Break. I called him once for a few minutes while my parents had been preoccupied.
Being apart was brutal but thank heavens the two of us hadn't cut off all communication. He was just letting me finish my final two months of college. That was all.
Hopefully.
—
I finished my paper Saturday morning and then spent an hour reading and rereading. I was pleased with the job I had done. It should score well.
It was my last day with Mom and Dad. Part of me wanted to come clean with Mom. To be honest. I didn't have to tell her about Mike, I just needed to talk about me. The whole me. I think springing a relationship with an older man would doom the conversation. Could I do it? Would today even present an opportunity?
I wanted to talk to Mom first. If I could get her to understand, then in time, I could — hopefully — bring Dad around. That was going to be such an uphill battle. My stomach tied itself into knots just thinking about it.
We all sat down to lunch together. The mood was pleasant. It was one of the better visits I had spent with family since leaving for college. I enjoyed being away from home, even if it was only 50 miles. But every now and then, home was nice.
Parents made it "home," I supposed. I spent most of my adolescence in Jackson Bend. I only had my senior year here in Toomersville. I never made any real close friends at this high school. I didn't feel a need to reconnect with anyone while I was here.
As we ate sandwiches and pasta salad, Dad said the first thing about the rest of the day.
"I would like to make Trent's last meal of Spring Break kind of nice. I'd like to grill us steaks tonight. What do you all think?"
"Hey, if I don't have to cook, I'm all for it," Mom said, kissing him on the top of the head as she walked to get the pitcher of lemonade.
"How about I make the side dishes," I interjected.
"Well!" exclaimed Mom. "Aren't you two just taking care of everything. Maybe I should just go get a manicure this afternoon or something."
"Trent, do you need me to pick up anything with the steaks? Or ... would you like to come with me to the store?" Dad asked.
Wow. Dad never asked me to go anywhere with him. Even though I kind of dreaded it, I figured I should take him up on it. It may be a good thing.
"Yes, I would. What time should we head out?"
We set a time of 2 o'clock. That gave me an hour to kill. I wanted to text Mike, to let him know that Dad and I were sort of doing something. But maybe not so soon. It may be nothing. Plus, Mike thought it best we give each other some space; I couldn't keep running to him when I felt like it.
Is that what he wanted? Was he giving me space to find my normal? Or did he want space? He said he loved me, so how much space away from me does he want? This is hard. At least he let me get caught up. If things go well today, I'll give him a call tonight.
My mood seemed erratic. I went to the piano in the living room. Playing the piano is one thing I couldn't do when in the apartment. I always seemed to feel better after playing something, even if it was a sad song. I'm not sure what I was feeling: I opted for "Sound of Silence." I played the melody. Then I played again singing the lyrics. I should have signed up for more arts classes. Writing was a wonderful outlet, but I think I could have done more.
"I miss hearing you play," Mom said, entering the room.
"I've let myself get out of practice," I said. "I so rarely play at school."
"Maybe when you get your own place after graduation you might take this piano with you."
"Mom!!! This piano has been in the house since I was 10. You bought this. I can't just take it," I argued.
"We bought it for you."
"Who knows where I will even live? What the place will be like? If it is across country." I paused, looking out the window. "I suppose it is something to consider. Someday."
"Neither of us play. It only makes sense."
I leaned my head into her body. "You sacrificed a lot for me as I was growing up. Thank you."
"Oh now, we didn't give up that much. You expressed interest as a child, and we did what any parents would do," she said. "You were very good and kept up with it for several years."
March 21
While talking to Mom, I really got to thinking about life after college. I haven't pictured it much. It always seemed a ways off. But it's not. In two months, I will be on my own. She offered me the piano. That's too pricey a thing to accept.
I went to the store with Dad. We so rarely do things together. It was surprisingly nice. We talked about my classes, Ali's play, my upcoming graduation ...
I felt like he cared, maybe for the first time in a few years. It was good that I just stayed home for Spring Break. Hopefully, I will feel that way after hearing about everyone's fantastic trips when we get back.
Dinner was great. The steaks made me think of the night out with Mike at Lawrence Creek. I wanted to tell them about that dinner, but even mentioning the place without Mike would have prompted too many questions.
My side dishes dazzled them. The baked potatoes were simple enough, but they were impressed with the Mediterranean-seasoned grilled onions and peppers to put on them, as well as the maple-glazed brussels sprouts with bacon. It was all delicious. Mom was delighted to not have to do a thing.
As dinner was wrapping up, Mom threw me a curve ball.
"It was so nice to see Professor Terry at Ali's play. He's such a nice man — supporting her play, buying you the journal. You were fortunate to have him as a teacher."
"Yeah. I liked his class."
Was that as noncommittal as I could sound? I tried to drain any emotion from my voice as I talked about him. I quickly scrambled to switch the subject. I asked her how she liked the play. And Dolores. Like everyone else, she suggested I write for The Showcase one year.
I wanted to open up to Mom, but now wasn't the time. Not after she talked about Mike. Too connected. Maybe tomorrow before I leave.
We put in a Blu-ray of one of her favorite movies and spent the evening in the living room. They went to bed, and I stayed up through some of an SNL rerun.
I would tell her tomorrow. Right before I leave.
—
After a morning run, I showered, and my thoughts returned to the encounter with Mike last month. He hated thinking about the three of us in that school shower. It's no wonder. As magical as it was for me, it really could have cost him his job. It is no surprise it terrifies him. But no one will ever know.
It was the first day I talked honestly about who I really was. Coming out was such a weight taken off of me. It was like an elephant had just been lifted from my chest. Mike was awesome; he gave me the courage to tell my friends. I shouldn't have waited until my senior year. I was so pathetic that it actually took a former high school teacher to make me feel comfortable.
A sexy, loving, incredible, understanding former high school teacher. Whom I missed. Whom I loved.
I looked down. Just thinking about Mike made me erect.
He is so worried that I rushed into our whirlwind relationship. I didn't think he was right about that. I loved him for who is, not just because he was my first. Right? For a split second I doubted myself. If I went after someone at school, could Mike have been a fleeting crush? He wanted to make sure I really loved him. I do. I didn't want that to change. I dismissed thoughts of anything else.
I began loading the car with everything that had been laundered and folded. Did I really bring this much stuff home? How do I even fit all this in the apartment?
"Do you want to stay around for lunch, sweetie?" Mom asked.
Sure. It saves me a few dollars, right?"
"Well, thanks for making me think you might care about your mother," she said sarcastically.
I walked over to her and kissed her cheek. I squeezed her in a strong bearhug. I held her for a long time.
"You know I love you," I said in a parental tone.
Mom made some chicken salad and we used up leftovers of my side dishes and chips to go with sandwiches.
Following lunch, Dad hugged me goodbye telling me he had to meet with a friend. Good, that would give me a little time with Mom. Once he left, I went to the bedroom to gather up my last items for the car. My heart was beating faster, I could tell. Would I be able to come out to her? I needed to tell her. I should tell her. I drank some ice water to calm me down. Just as I started to walk up to her, her phone rang.
Damn.
"Oh, hi Dolores! You remember Trent, right? He's been home for Spring Break and is about to leave."
You'd think that would have indicated she needed to hang up. No. They talked for 10 minutes. The longer they talked, the more my heart raced. Why is coming out to your parents so much harder than your friends? What would she think of me? Will they be as accepting as Mike's parents were of him? What if they hate me? Gah!! I just wanted this over with!
Finally, she hung up.
I stammered back and forth in the living room, but she didn't seem to notice. I thought my pulse was going to burst from my wrists.
"Mom? I kind of want to talk about something."
"Sure, honey. What is it?"
I hesitated. How do I start? What words soften the blow? What words diminish the shock?
"I ... I just want you to know something."
She waited. Certainly, there was more to come. I was in hell. Absolute hell.
"Mom, I want you to know ... after graduation I might move away from here."
What a copout. I wanted to do it. I was going to do it. But I didn't do it.
"Are you looking at any place in particular?" Mom asked.
"No," I simply said. "But I might be sending out resumes and look for jobs in numerous cities. I don't know where luck may land."
"I understand," Mom said. "It's not something I look forward to, but you are a grown man. I have to accept that you have to live your own life, wherever it may take you. Of course, I'd love for it to be closer to home. That's just a part of being a mom."
She actually fed me the words to where I could interject more.
But I didn't.
"Thanks, Mom. I just have no idea right now, and it is still two months away."
After hugs and goodbyes, we both told each other that we were glad I was able to spend some time at home on Spring Break. Following that, I got into the car.
Coward.