If It Weren't For the Two of Us Chapter 22
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22
I heard the alarm go off at 6:20. I was holding Mike when he leaned up to turn it off. I held him for another minute. He all but purred. Then he sighed and forced himself to get up. I rolled back over. I faintly heard him in the shower. Before I knew it, he was kissing me on the cheek. It was 7:15.
"Huh? Oh, hon'. I'm sorry. I fell back asleep."
"As you should have," he said, giving me a kiss. "You'll lock up, right?"
"Uh, sure," I said, scratching my head.
I got up to hug him goodbye at the front door. My crotch had a firm case of morning wood. Mike looked at my dick as I walked up to him. He grabbed it and pulled me in close for a hug. He held me and gave me a big kiss.
"How nice to have a beautiful, naked, young stud with a delightful hard-on send me off to work."
"Mmm," I moaned as I squeezed him. "See you Saturday."
He gripped my ass cheeks. After massaging them, he finally pushed me back.
"Okay. I have to go. Tempt me no further."
I smiled and locked the door as he headed out.
He had left me a half pot of coffee. I had a cup and planned out my strategy for doing three more interviews today.
I went into the bathroom and began getting ready. An hour later, I used my key — MY key — to lock the door.
The first two interviews were lousy. They were quick, and I was told they had nothing available.
I met Matt and Ali for lunch. We had an enjoyable time. We talked about the wedding, some great times in our younger days at Jerome Hawkins High School, and the whole career search situation. Ali had leads on a couple of job prospects before graduation, so she was feeling pretty good. Like me, Matt was worried.
The two of them were also looking for an apartment.
"Your parents are okay with you two moving in together before the wedding?" I asked.
"Oh, heck yeah. I mean, we've been sleeping together for years," Ali said bluntly.
"Have you and Mike been able to spend much time together after graduation?" Matt asked.
"Yeah. Some."
"And ...?" said Ali.
"And ... do I sound like some dorky schoolgirl to say I think it's totally wonderful? We are so great together. I mean ... GREAT!"
"Are you moving in with him?" Matt asked.
"No, that would be crazy fast. As much as that sounds nice, I need to be on my own, start making my own wage. I'm an adult now. WE are adults. I want to feel like that. It just sucks thinking about getting a place before you have a job, y'know?"
"I hear ya," Matt said.
"Lance already has a job, and I'm helping him move off campus into a new apartment on Saturday. The uncertainty of it all is kind of scary. I'm envious of him having it all lined up."
I told them I had to get to my last interview of the day. We said our goodbyes with hugs, and I drove to the next appointment. When I arrived, the manager was free to see me. I thought it went really well. I felt much better after that interview.
Then I started the drive home. When I returned, I knew two things, I wanted out of the suit, and I wanted to play the piano.
I spent an hour at the keyboard. I played a few songs I knew well and dabbled with a couple of things going through my mind.
May 27
Job hunting is not fun.
—
Thursday made me squeamish. Most of the interviews have some sort of application, some longer than others. I had numerous resumés ready. Each time I filled out paperwork, I knew there couldn't legally be a checkbox asking if I was homosexual or not. But I still felt the same. If they knew, would it make a difference? I had come to terms with who I was, but in an interview situation, what was the smart thing to do? It was nobody's business — and thankfully gay marriage had been legal for years. But still...
With each day, I began to feel more adrift. If no one wanted me, would I wind up at Wal-Mart? What percentage of college graduates immediately leap into a career? Was I normal? If they sensed I was gay, would that hurt my chances? No one should care, right? But what if they did?
—
My last interview of the day arrived. The owner was incredibly friendly. I thought he was fairly handsome, not that that had anything to do with anything. There was just a hint of him also eyeing me over. I thought I was just imagining it, but then I noticed a picture on his desk with another man. The interviewer had a wedding ring on. Surely, he was a gay married man.
Great! Or was it? He wouldn't hit on me if I was hired, right? God, I knew nothing of older gay men. Mike was the only one I knew personally. Would a gay boss be a good thing or a bad thing? Would I be judged differently?
My thoughts were running away with me. It must have been the exhaustion of one interview after another this week. My nerves were starting to fray under the pressure. I tried to pull myself together.
The two of us continued our conversation. As much as I put it out of my mind, I could still feel him looking me over, judging my sexuality. I wasn't imagining it. I wasn't sure how to react. Play into it? Remain neutral? Don't let on that I was gay?
I was a mess.
"Trent, I'm going to level with you."
I was so worked up that I had forgotten his name.
"I would truly love to have you on our team here," he continued. "I think you would be a great fit, and your references from the university are spot on."
That felt good. "Thank you."
"Unfortunately, I am disheartened to say we have filled the opening. Just two days ago. That person also was ideal for the job. It was a good call. I'm just sad now that we can't take you both."
My heart sank.
"But I am keeping your resumé. If we have anything come open, you will be my first call. Again, I am very sorry. I truly wish you the best of luck in your search. I'm sorry that we just can't take you on right now."
Fuck, if they had been my first interview, I could have gotten it.
"It was a pleasure meeting you," said the man whose name I could not remember.
I nodded. "Same here."
He reached for my hand. I shook it, and I felt he lingered holding it just for a millisecond too long.
Damn.
—
Friday arrived. In total, I had been on 11 interviews, or at least appointments, this week. I thought most of them were not going to lead anywhere, but I felt a few were potential leads. I had gone to two this morning. In the afternoon, I went to Mike's house and moved some things into the spaces he had created for me. I left one suit there with the other at home. The rest was more casual, although there was one dress shirt and the two he gave me. One dress pants joined jeans and shorts. Several T-shirts moved into a drawer with multiple nights of underwear and socks. In all, it wasn't a lot, but I had "things" here. I liked it.
I stared at the picture of the two of us in boxers on the dresser. I read the list of 10 Things that let him know I was the right choice in the tiny book. I glanced at a few of the other personal things in the bowl. One day I would have him explain what they were. If he wanted to. I turned and looked at the bedroom. The bed was neatly made. I had come to know this room. It was like a second home. It was Mike. It was us. It was love.
At 4:30, I heard the garage door open. Mike entered through the side door. I met him with a glass of wine.
"Welcome home, dear," I said with a peck on the lips, handing him the glass of wine.
"Wine? It's 4:30."
"It's Friday," I said. "Besides, it's the weekend and you only have three days of students left."
"Thank God! Give me that!" he said taking the glass.
He set the briefcase down at the kitchen table, and I grabbed his hand, leading us to the living room. He sat his wine on the coffee table. I grabbed a throw pillow and sat down. Putting the pillow on my lap, I guided him to lay down. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out, his bearded face looking up at me from my lap.
"Ahhh. I'm glad you're here," he said.
"Me too. Particularly since we're helping Lance tomorrow ..."
"Oh yeah."
"... I thought we'd have some time to ourselves tonight."
"Mmm."
He grabbed my hand and held it to his chest. Shutting his eyes, he just relaxed with his head in my lap.
"Do you have any thoughts on dinner?" he asked, still with his eyes closed.
"Yeah. Waffles."
"WAFFLES!???" he said, opening his eyes.
"As I tinkered in the kitchen, I noticed a waffle iron in the back of one of the cabinets. It sounded fun. I went out and bought a few gourmet ingredients. Don't you think it sounds like a fun change of pace?"
"I gueeessss."
"If you don't want to, we can do that for breakfast," I said.
"No. For breakfast I was picturing shrimp scampi."
"All right, Mr. Smart Aleck."
I hit him in the face with a throw pillow. He laughed. I joined him. He laid there a couple more minutes, quietly holding my hand. Then he sat up to reach his glass.
"Nothing goes with waffles like a fine Chardonnay," he said sarcastically.
I hit him over the head with the pillow again.
"Pardon me for meeting my man at the door with a glass of wine."
"You could have met me at the door with yellow squash and a wet sponge, and I'd still be glad you were waiting for me," he said, leaning in for a kiss.
He grabbed the pillow and resumed his position.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"The students are driving me crazy. I mean, I love `em, I do. But the last few weeks can be murder. They're done. The teachers are done. School is just DONE, but you still have to show up. I've got an idea for the last three days. Maybe you can help me with it this weekend."
"Really? Hmm. That could be intriguing."
"We should also maybe talk about the summer. A few weeks ago, I mentioned about the two of us going somewhere, but it's donned on me that you might just be starting a new job. I didn't think that through. I just knew I was going to be done, so I just thought everyone else was free too. That was rather short-sighted."
"At least we have the lake house next weekend," I said. "Maybe we can figure out something for later in the summer that has a little ... open-ended ... ness ... to it. It would be good for the two of us to go somewhere. But yeah, until we know whatever job situation I might have will be, that could be a bit tricky."
"And it's not fair of me to expect you to delay anything, particularly if you receive an offer. How'd the interviews go this week?"
"I don't know; 11 in all. I felt a few were definite `No's, even if they didn't say that. A couple had some potential, I think. I return to three for follow ups next week. And I'll attempt two more new interviews. Then I'm out of ideas. Maybe I'll just work at 7-11."
He rolled on his side to make a clumsy hug with his arms around me. Then he just pressed his face into my belly. I'm not sure why I liked that, but I did.
I told him about the interview with the gay man. I said I picked up on his orientation.
"Gaydar," Mike said into my stomach.
We didn't move for a half hour.
Eventually, Mike got up and went into the bedroom to change. Although school had been "casual Friday," he still wanted to be more comfortable. He emerged in just his boxers and a Coldplay T-shirt.
At about 6:30, I started to work on dinner. Mike sat at the end of the counter and watched me, usually smiling.
"Any plans for tonight?" I asked.
"How about sex on the hour."
"Yeesh! You and Lance!"
"What? Do you and Lance have sex on the hour?"
"Lord no, but he talks about it constantly. Or did."
"Is he out yet?" Mike asked. "I mean, the three of us ... well, had a three-way, we went dancing in a gay club. We sat there and watched him get fucked by that ... fancy ... Jason guy ..."
"His boss."
"His BOSS???"
"Yeah. Lance's new job is at that chain of gyms Jason's family owns."
"And how's that going?"
"I dunno. We haven't talked about his job a lot. I figured we would tomorrow."
I poured my special batter into the waffle iron.
"Y'know, someone gave that to Ethan and me when we moved in. I had forgotten we even had it. I mean, I even had it. You know what I mean. I don't think it has been used in a year and a half."
"Well," I said. "I'm glad I thought of this. The poor thing probably has its feelings hurt."
Mike snorted.
"God! You're adorable!"
"WE are adorable," I said.
He got up and kissed me deeply.
"Yes, we are," he said softly.
We held each other in a long embrace. The waffle iron went off.
"Aha!" I said, turning to the task at hand.
I grabbed a plate and maneuvered the waffles out of the heated device. Mike grabbed the syrup from the cabinet and took the plate to the kitchen table. I poured my waffle batter into the machine and then took butter to the table. He grabbed silverware from a drawer. As I watched the timer, he started on his meal.
"Okay, babe. Two thumbs up. These are freakin' awesome. What'd you put in this?
"Lots of my unconditional love," I said with a smile.
"You jacked off into them?"
"Stop! Gah! You really should have fallen in love with Lance!"
We giggled.
"Anyway, back to Lance. Is he ... has he accepted he's gay? I mean, I guess he is bisexual, but how in denial is he?"
"I just want him to meet someone," I said. "When you get to know him, he's a very kind-hearted ... tender ... wonderful guy. But he's afraid to let himself meet someone. For some reason, that's too definite. He just fools around, thinking that he isn't gay; he's just having fun. I mean, how does that even work?"
"I always say, everyone in their own time, but he'd be a lot happier if he accepted who he is."
"I know, right? For some reason, he allows himself to open up with me, but ... he's so guarded with someone else. What's weird, if we had been roommates a year or so before, the two of would have probably helped each other come out sooner. It probably would have been wild sex night after night."
"Well. I'm glad you weren't roommates."
I looked at Mike confused.
"Duh! I wouldn't be eating these amazing waffles if you had come out a year or two earlier."
I sat down next to him with my plate.
"So, what's in these?" he asked.
"Besides my heartfelt love?"
"Yes, babe. I can clearly taste every ounce of your love. What else?"
"Cinnamon, cardamom, a little sour cream, ginger ..."
"Wow. Is this your recipe?"
"Martha Stewart, but I added the touch of diced walnuts."
Mike laughed. "They're awesome, babe. The perfect dinner."
He gave me a quick kiss between bites.
—
A few hours later, we crawled into bed. Teeth brushed, bladders emptied, clothes removed. We settled in for a good night's sleep.
Mike let me hold him tonight. He placed his head on my chest. I stroked his beard with the back of my fingers.
"I like that," he said.
As I continued to do so, he placed one of his hands under my balls. With the gentlest touch, he teased them. I could faintly feel his touch as his fingers orbited my anatomy. We didn't say anything; we just caressed each other in our simple way. From the movement of the sheet, he became aware that my dick was getting harder, longer. His ethereal touch moved to my erection, still almost ghostlike with the whisper touch. Ever so slightly, his fingers traced the full length of my phallic monument. My fingers stopped stroking his beard and moved to hug him closer to me. He, in turn, increased his grasp on my cock. He moved his fingers up and down my hard-on bringing it to its maximum firmness.
For several minutes Mike fondled and stroked and pulled my cock. It brought great pleasure. But his grip was very methodical, and I had crossed the line to where the sexual act was going to be my primary focus until I reached climax. My cock was pulsing now, throbbing. The surge in sensations in my crotch was tingling like mad. I knew I'd be coming in his fist within a minute or so.
"I have something in mind," I whispered, gently pulling his arm from my waist.
I crawled over him, opening the drawer where I knew he had the lube. As expected, a towel was there too. I wasn't going to worry with a condom. I knew Mike was clean; he had been faithful. I squirted the clear lubricant onto my fingers and worked it around his javelin, transforming it into a slippery weapon. I longed for it to impale me. More lube on my fingers found its way into my hole. Wiping my hand on the towel, I hovered over Mike's body. I gently lowered my ass right above his pole. His hand positioned it vertically, and I let the head of his organ penetrate the puckered hole of my waiting passage. A rush of air was sucked in as I inhaled at the intrusion. I lifted off but eased back down onto his stiffened flesh seconds later. My ass accepted it, and gently I lowered myself completely, pushing the entire length of his erection into my body.
"Ohhhhh, fuck, baby," he whispered.
What was a quiet time of foreplay shifted as our pleasure became more pronounced. I grabbed my penis and pulled it in rhythm with my movement up and down Mike's manhood. We both moaned. Once again, I could feel the sensations in my groin build. I let go of my hardened meat and leaned back on my stiffened arms. I arched my back and my head turned toward the ceiling. I grunted in pleasure as it felt like his cock was deeper in me. I rode his pole like a carousel, undulating up and down. My cock bounced in front of me. In the darkness Mike could dimly see my erection waving before him. He reached for it and pulled on my flesh as I rode his.
Neither of us said anything. We just moaned. No words. Just auditory projection of sexual gratification. As Mike pulled on my dick, he started thrusting his hips, pushing his member into my hole even harder. We both groaned louder. Very loud. Murderously loud. I moved up and down his cock more vigorously, as he matched his stimulation of my rod with equal force. The pleasure within me built. My groans transferred to one final command.
"Pull me hard, Mike. Pull my cock!"
He did. I erupted.
"Oh yeah," he said as my first spasm of cum hit his neck. He pulled even harder. Stream after stream landed on his chest. I groaned as I felt each shot of liquid travel through my shaft and explode onto the man I love. He thrust his cock into me with a fierceness as my cock was ejaculating its last oozes of my cum.
"I'm going to come in you, Trent!"
His hips thrust with abandoned.
"I'm coming, Trent! Ohhhh, babe. I'm shooting inside you. I'm coming!"
His hips crashed into my ass. I bounced as if riding a stallion. He continued to howl. He shoved and pushed his dick deeper than it should physically go. He gave one final grunt.
His body went limp.
"Oh. Fuck. Yeah." He breathlessly stated.
I leaned forward to kiss him. His cock was losing its firmness and it slipped from my ass. We kissed for a couple of minutes.
"I guess we should clean up," he said, moving us toward the edge of the bed. We grabbed the towel and with some tissue and a washcloth, we dealt with the result of our lovemaking.
Clean, we moved back to the bed. He resumed his position on my chest; I resumed caressing his beard.
From time to time, my thoughts drifted back to February. I was an emotional mess. It was so hard to accept who I was. It was Mike that help me find my true self. I trusted him. Back then, there was no way I could have imagined what our sex life had become. I would never have been able to believe I would be so comfortable in being a gay man. But I was.
"Before this year, I could never picture the things we do, the things we say during sex," I said. "I worked so hard denying my feelings, my urges. I'm like a new person. Had I only known what I could have been experiencing."
"A lot of gay men go through decades denying themselves," Mike said. "I feel sad for those who live their lives lonely. Or they pull a woman into their lives and make a mess of both. It's sad."
"Hm," I said.
"And, yeah, the things we do, the sounds we make, the words we say — we're definitely the hottest couple on the street," he noted.
"Are there other gay couples in the neighborhood?"
"Not that I know of. But please, like some straight couple could be hotter than us."
We both chuckled.
"No way," I said, moving his face to kiss mine.
"I love you, babe," he said. "I'm so glad I get to tell you that every night."
"I love you with all my heart, Mike."
I rolled to my side and felt his arm reach around to hold me. I loved falling asleep in his bed. Every time I prayed it was not just some fantastical dream. How did I get so lucky to find this man? I could never stop asking myself that.
Would that change if I couldn't find a job? Would Mike love me as much if my career didn't happen like I had planned? And if I don't get a job, how long would it be before money problems would come between us? I was glad college was over, but there were aspects of adulthood that scared the hell out of me.
"Mike?"
"mmm" he barely hummed.
"What if I can't find a job?"
"You'll find a job."
"But if I can't ... what if I had to look elsewhere. That scares me. I ... I ... don't ever want to think about being far away from you."
"You'll find a job," he said, pulling me tight.
As comforting as that felt, I succumbed to a wave of unreasonable fear. Anxiety electrified in my head like ignited sparklers. Money, moving, employment, salary differences between Mike and me. Mike's tight grip on me eased. I knew he was about to drift off. Furniture, Dad, taxes, loans. A slight wheeze through Mike's nostrils indicated he had floated away. Savings, rent, Lance, interviews. I was wide awake.
Slowly my fingertips toyed with the hair on his chest. My touch hovered over and through the heaven that is his chest. I slightly kissed his nipple. I was surprised to feel myself get hard again.
Love, acceptance, hard, Mike. My breathing relaxed.
I fell asleep.
* * * *
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Most of you know that If It Weren't For the Two of Us is "Book 2." Mike's book came first, Extracurricular. It is also under Adult Friends with Nifty.