Rebound

By Writer Boy

Published on Jan 4, 2003

Gay

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

  1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

  2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

That said, we now continue.


The beeping of the alarm woke me, and I smacked it off before, I hoped, it could bother Justin. One of his heavy arms was draped across my chest, and it tightened a little when I reached over to get the clock. Behind me Justin murmured softly into my back, pulling at me as I reached over. I held still, and he pulled himself more tightly against me. He'd slid lower than me in the bed during the night, so he was now pressing his face into the middle of my back, between my shoulderblades. I jumped, a little ticklish, as I felt his nose brushing against me, touching my spine, and his mouth moved against me as he continued to mumble. His arm flexed, the bicep bulging a little, and the hair on his forearm was pushed in every direction, a little messy, as he clutched tightly, but not painfully, at me.

I wondered what he was dreaming about, but couldn't make out any of the words he was mumbling.

The morning can be a good time, and was one of my favorite moments of the day. The city isn't completely quiet, because it isn't ever, but in the morning there isn't as much noise, and what you can hear is identifiable and comforting. Depending on how early you're up, you can hear the newspaper trucks go by, and I always dimly registered ours dropping the papers off at the back even if I was half asleep. You could hear the busses rumbling by, and traffic starting to wake up. There was an idle dog bark here and there, as my neighbors got up to take them for their walks. In the morning, there aren't many sirens, if any. You never hear the cops or an ambulance or the fire engine go by. You didn't hear people down on the sidewalks yelling at each other, although you didn't get much of that in my neighborhood, anyway. If the windows were open, you could catch some of the smell of the water blowing in on the breeze, but I had them closed, since we were into October and would soon be in sweater weather.

It goes without saying that the best circumstances to listen to all these sounds, to hear the world wake up along with you, was in a nice, warm bed. When you get into bed at night the sheets are cold sometimes, and you have to take a minute or two to either warm them up or get used to the chill. In the morning, though, you've been rolling around in them all along, and you don't run the risk of sliding your feet into a cold spot. It also helped if there was someone else in the bed with you. I hadn't experienced that for a while, but it was becoming a feeling I could start to get used to again. The skin on skin contact, that slide of smooth muscles that weren't yours, the scrape of the hair on somebody's arms or legs or chin as it shifted against your skin or wove through your own arms and legs, wasn't the same as what you felt when you were cuddling, or making love. This was relaxed, placid, just there, yours to enjoy if you were awake.

And what a body I happened to have with me. I rolled slowly onto my back, moving carefully so I didn't disturb Justin too much. It was somewhat difficult, more than I thought it should be, because Justin gave new definition to the term "clingy". I thought he'd just grabbed me out of reflex when I reached for the alarm clock, but now that I was actually trying to move it was almost like fighting. The arm he'd flung across me tightened, his muscles bulging, and as I began to roll his other arm, beneath me, tightened as well, pulling me into a viselike embrace. I looked at his face, so soft and unlined in repose, and it was starting to tense a little, with little lines appearing around his mouth, but I was sure he was still asleep. Even as his arms gripped me, though, his legs snaked forward, wrapping around one of mine. Justin had me in a death grip, and instead of just rolling over I had to squirm and almost kind of shimmy. Like being caught in some kind of snare, each movement brought a fresh tightening of Justin's limbs, and while it was kind of cute to now have his morning erection, substantial but not throbbing hard, rubbing against my hip, I was also starting to wonder how I would ever get out of bed.

Lying on my back, I let out a low sigh, not moving. Justin, once I stilled myself, snuggled closer, still mumbling in his sleep, and I looked down at him as he rested his face on the side of my chest. The lines melted out of it again, and I watched his eyes darting around behind his lids. I'd noticed before that his nose was a little larger than it looked in pictures, but it wasn't enormous. His hair was brownish, that shade that you knew would brighten to golden in the sun, or with just the right professional hair care and dyeing. His shoulders, only one of which I could actually see since he was on his side, were bronzed, tanned to a nice golden brown, the same color you wanted baked goods to come out of the oven, and they were dusted with freckles. His back was smooth, naturally so, not waxed, and he was just generally not very hairy. There was a little bit on his chest, but not even enough to call it a patch. The sheet was still pulled up, despite all our moving around, but beneath it, where it fell against him, you could see the toned, rounded curves of his body. He didn't have the brittle, hard striation of a bodybuilder, but he was definitely in fantastic shape, and I knew from last night, and the other nights, that he was completely comfortable with his body, and knew how to use it. I'd never realized that dancers were so flexible.

The sun was just coming up, light falling across the loft in long slanting lines of gold, washing over everything, and I watched the way Justin seemed to glisten in it. Where it hit his hair, it was like dipping him in fire. I was used to the same sort of thing with my own hair, although the effect was much more orange on me, what with me being a redhead. It was still fascinating to ponder on someone else. I didn't really have time to consider how Justin was the perfect golden boy, how he just seemed to glow, because I didn't want to get into trouble with Michelle again. I was determined to be downstairs on time this morning, and that meant no lying in bed and staring at Justin. After a couple of minutes of determined effort, I managed to extricate myself from Justin, wondering the entire time how someone who was dead asleep to the world could be so grabby. It was like fighting with glue, but eventually I got away from him, leaving him muttering to himself, twisting a little and clutching at a pillow I'd jammed into his arms. Smiling, I trotted across the loft to the bathroom and switched on the shower.

My shower was large, with sliding frosted glass doors. The bottom served as a tub, and occasionally I lay in a bath for a while and read a book with the stereo on, but for the most part I just used it as a shower. It was roomy, since I wanted to be able to stretch out in it, which meant that there was ample space for more than one person. I had been inside for maybe a minute, lathering up the loofa, when I heard one of the doors slide open, and I turned to see Justin stepping carefully into the tub, trying to open the door as narrowly as possible, to keep my bathroom dry. He smiled at me, and I smiled back as he leaned forward, planting a quick kiss on my forehead.

"Good morning," I said, blushing a little. Even though Justin and I were intimately familiar with each other, it still felt a little strange to be naked in the shower with him, under all those bright lights. I was in pretty good shape, but he was perfect.

"Hi there," he said, holding up a washcloth. "I didn't know if you wanted to share."

I handed him the soap and caught him staring at me, a half grin on his face.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, blushing worse.

"You," Justin answered. "You're so, just, you look so good. You're so handsome."

"Handsome?" I asked, surprised. "Justin, look at me, and look at you. You're perfect. I'm just, you know, I'm nobody special, not like you. You're beautiful."

"So are you," Justin said, running his hand along the side of my face. His touch was light, gentle, and felt good. His hands, proportionate to the rest of him, didn't seem really large unless you looked at them separately from him, the same as with his feet. "You were, um, last night was really good."

"Stop," I giggled, looking away. The last thing I wanted to do was start talking about sex in the shower. It was bad enough that just seeing him naked, watching the water course down his toned form, was getting me half hard. Judging by the way his cock was plumping up, filling out but not yet hard, he was having the same problem, and if we acted on it, we'd never get to work on time. "We can't have this discussion."

"Why not?" Justin asked, surprised. He turned me around and began to wash my shoulders. "I mean, you know, it's not like we can pretend we didn't have sex, and that it wasn't really good."

"Justin," I began, cautioning him away from my ass, where his hands were drifting. I jumped as he goosed me with a soapy finger. "Justin!"

"Just making sure you're clean," he said, giggling. Great. I'd completely forgotten that twenty year olds were all about sex. While it could be a good point in the bedroom, it could also be a bad point when you were trying to studiously avoid all such thoughts. "Seriously, though, that was, um, everything else we did was good, but that was the first time you did it first, and that means a lot to me. Plus, you know, you were damn good, like I said."

"Justin, I mean it," I said, shaking my head as I turned around. I took his shoulders and turned him, so that I could do his back. "We really shouldn't have this discussion right now."

"But the things you do to me," he said rolling his head back a little.

"Justin, I'm totally serious," I said, letting my hands drift down a little. I wasn't so much washing his back as I was just rubbing it, feeling his lats and the curve of his spine. I dropped my hands a little lower, feeling the firm curves of his ass, and almost unconsciously he pushed back toward me. "We can't talk about sex right now."

"Why not?" he asked, letting out a low whimper as my hands slid back up his back.

"Because if we talk about it, I'll want to do it," I whispered, leaning forward to lick his ear. "And we'll be late for work."

With that I pulled back, taking my hands off of him, and began to do my front. He turned around with this look on his face, like I'd just offered him candy and then taken it away. His cock, a hard spike jutting upward, water coursing down it, bumped my hip, and I stepped back.

"That was so uncalled for," he said, shaking his head, but he was smiling. As I watched, his smile widened, as if something was just occurring to him. "You're right, though. If we stop to have sex, we'll be late, and Michelle will yell at us. Since we don't have time, I guess I'll just have to, you know, take care of myself."

I willed my heart to start beating again. Justin, in the shower with me, wet, touching himself.

"Justin," I choked, trying to talk him out of this. "You don't have to do that."

"I'm a guy, and I have needs," Justin said, shrugging. One hand idly rubbed his chest, toying with his hardening nipple, as I fought to keep my eyes from dropping back to his crotch. Justin smiled again. "Besides, you don't have to watch."

"Fine," I said, smirking. I turned my back on him. "I won't. Do whatever you have to do. I'm going to wash my hair."

I jumped as I felt Justin's hands touch my back tentatively, his fingers just barely brushing my shoulder. My hands convulsively squeezed the shampoo bottle, splattering the wall with it, which seemed oddly symbolic in light of what we'd just been discussing. Justin snickered behind me.

"I was joking," he said softly. "You're right. We have to get ready so that we can get downstairs, but, you know, now that I see how excited that gets you."

"I'm not excited," I said quickly, lathering up my hair. I handed the shampoo bottle to him, turning around to face him. His eyes ticked down to my crotch, where my cock was definitely rising. There was no arguing with it. "OK, maybe I'm excited, but how could I not be? I mean, you're, you know, you, and the thought of you doing that to yourself is kind of a turn on, but we really don't have time right now."

"Maybe not," Justin agreed, washing his hair now. He grinned again even as he closed his eyes to keep the suds out. "But we'll have plenty of time later."

"Maybe," I said, my mood suddenly darkening as I thought of Chris, the other Chris, waiting out there somewhere. Justin was going to have to face him at some point. I was also still thinking about what April had said. It was really easy to ignore it last night, when Justin was there needing me and I was needing him, but today it was coming back to prey on me.

"What's wrong?" Justin asked, catching the quick shift in my mood. He touched my shoulder, resting a hand on it, and I thought about how physical he was as a person. Justin liked to be touched, but he was also very tactile with others as well. I wondered if it had something to do with his esteem issue, with the way he needed to be almost constantly reassured. The touching, for Justin, reaffirmed what I told him, showed him that I cared.

"Justin, what are you going to do?" I asked, sighing as I shut the water off. I took his hand and pressed it, briefly, to the side of my face. He kept it there for a second after I let go, caressing the spot where my jaw connected to my skull. I slid open the door and grabbed us each a towel, handing one to Justin.

"About Chris, you mean?" he asked, his blue eyes wide. I nodded, drying myself and trying to ignore his body as he did the same. Both of us were trying to keep it innocent, just two guys in the shower together, but there was still a strong current of tension running there. I wanted to grab Justin and take him, hard, right there against the back wall of the shower, and he wanted it, too. At the same time, I wanted to be at work on time, and while it might be ok to just go at it, using the excuse that we cared about each other and we were still in our newlywed infatuation phase, one of us had to be the responsible one, and I knew if I put my foot down Justin would listen. "I don't know. I mean, I need to talk to him, but I don't know what I'm going to tell him. I know I can't stay here forever, but I don't want to just bow down. I want him to hear me, to really listen to me, even if I do go back with him. And I don't want to go back without you."

"Huh?" I asked. I guess, in the back of my mind, I kind of wondered if Justin and I were going to do the long distance thing or what, but I hadn't really thought about it too much. I'd only thought about dating him for a day, after all, which kind of put a damper on long term planning. Justin and I finished in the bathroom and walked, naked with our towels around our necks, to the bedroom. "You want me to go with you?"

"Don't you want to?" Justin asked uncertainly. I turned, my hand on my dresser, and saw him watching me as he went through his suitcase. His posture was cringing a little, defensive, as if waiting for me to give the wrong answer. He thought I was going to hurt him, and I didn't want to do that, but I hadn't even thought about this. "Don't you want to be with me?"

I stepped into a pair of boxers and then crossed the room to him as he pulled on his briefs. He still looked a little tentative, and I took his face in my hands. He hadn't shaved, and his face was a little stubbly, the planes of his cheeks a little bit rough beneath my fingers. I realized I hadn't shaved, either, which was extremely rare for me. Then again, maybe the grunge look was coming back. I'd have to ask Meg later, but for now, this very moment, my priority was Justin. I smoothed my thumbs over his cheekbones, rubbing the spots just under his eyes gently. He stared at me, waiting, his face a little strained.

"Justin, I care about you," I said firmly. "I mean it when I say that. I care about you, and I will not hurt you, not if I can help it. Do you believe that?"

"Yes," he answered, nodding.

"I told you yesterday that I would be with you, and I am," I continued. "I'm with you. We're together, but we only have been for a day. I haven't had time to think about any of this, Justin. I'm still trying to get used to thinking of myself as someone with a boyfriend again. I told you this would be hard, that this was confusing for me, and I can't just, I can't say that I'm going to drop everything and run away with you."

"Chris, I love you," Justin said softly, swallowing. I leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, on the mouth.

"I know," I said, pulling back. "And I care about you. I just need some time, ok? I need some time to think about this."

"I know," Justin said, taking my hands in his and removing them from his face. He squeezed them for a second, smiling at me, and then let them drop, turning to pull more clothes out of his suitcase. He couldn't go downstairs in just his briefs, no matter how hot I thought that would be. "But I don't have a lot of time."

"I know, Justin," I sighed, pulling out my own clothes. "And we'll get through this, ok? I don't know how, but we'll get through it. I'll take care of you."

"We'll take care of each other," Justin said, nodding.

We didn't talk after that, but we kept glancing at each other as we got dressed. Last night it had seemed so perfect, being together had seemed so right, but now, in the morning, it felt kind of impulsive. As we started to think about the rest of this, about the way that people we knew would take it and about the realities of our situation, it seemed like something ill planned, something we had just jumped into. I knew that the feelings were there, though. Now that I'd opened myself and allowed myself to admit what I felt, I knew that Justin and I could have something. I knew because I'd felt it before, a long time ago, but realizing that just left me with more of those guilty feelings. It was one thing to tell April that Matt would have wanted this, but convincing myself of it was something else entirely.

"I think I just need to explain to Chris that I need to be my own person," Justin said finally as we grabbed our keys. "I think he's a little scared that I might walk away from everything, and I don't want to do that. I'd never do that, not to the guys. They're my friends, but I think Chris, and maybe the others, are afraid that I'm not going to be there anymore."

"You could be right," I said, nodding. If Chris was acting out of fear, it could explain why he was so rude, and almost abusive. It could also explain why he'd said all those things to me. "Justin, I think Chris might be threatened by me."

Justin skidded to a stop on the stairs and grabbed my arm, his mouth hanging open.

"You think Chris wants to date me?" he blurted. It echoed through the stairwell, and I hoped Michelle wasn't there yet.

"No, no, of course not," I said, shaking my head. "I didn't talk to him for very long, but I got a pretty straight vibe off of him. What I meant was that if what you're saying is true, about him worrying that you're going to move on and leave everyone behind, well, I might look like part of that."

"I guess I didn't really think about that," Justin said, nodding.

"We haven't really thought about a lot of things," I said, and Justin nodded again. We had fallen into such a downer mood that I thought that maybe we should have had sex in the shower after all. Just before we opened the door to the storeroom Justin grabbed my arm and kissed me, quickly, on the mouth.

"I love you," he said, staring into my eyes. I could see myself reflected in his. "Whatever else happens, I know that. I've never been so sure of anything before. I love you."

"And I care about you," I answered, hugging him tightly. His arms held me close.

"You don't love me, though," he whispered quietly. I tried to pull back, to see his eyes, but he clutched me tighter. "When I say it, you don't say it back."

"I can't just say that, Justin," I said, trying to be honest. "When I say that, those words mean something to me. I know they mean something to you, too, but I don't want to say that to you if I don't feel it completely. I care about you very much, and that's why I keep saying that to you, but I respect you too much to tell you I love you if I'm not sure."

"It's enough that you care," Justin said. "I've thought about this, all the times we've talked, all the times you've turned away from this. I know you care about me, and I'm ok with that. We're still together, and that's enough for me. Now, let's go before we're late."

"OK," I said, leaning forward to kiss him again. We were still holding each other, so this kiss was tighter than the past few, more forceful, which made it even better. When we let go, I knew that Justin loved me, and he knew how much I cared.

We were getting pretty efficient on the morning chores as a three man team, Justin taking the chairs down while I brought in the papers and Michelle started the coffee. If one of us went to do the next thing on the checklist, opening the shades or turning on the register or unlocking the doors, and one of the others was already taking care of it we just moved on to the next thing. Michelle and I had our own routine down pat after years of spending our mornings on it, and it was a little unsettling to see how quickly Justin had managed to find a place in it. Like everything else so far today, it reminded me of how soon Justin would be gone. Would Michelle and I just fall back into our old routine? I was sure she could, but would I be able to?

Justin was a little deeper into my heart than I thought.

As the morning progressed, Justin and I went about our tasks, but I think both of us felt that drag. Every time I saw him help a customer, or ring someone up, I thought about the fact that he might be doing it for the last time. It was one thing for me to tell him the other night that he just had to accept that he would leave someday, but now I felt it too, and I realized that I didn't want him to go. In the couple of days that he'd worked in the store, Justin truly had become part of the family. He also had the store running even more smoothly. I had thought that everything was ok, that we were all balanced and together, but Justin's work just reemphasized the fact that we needed to hire someone else. When we had a slow minute, I left Justin and Julie at the front near the register, and I pulled Michelle into the storeroom.

"Do you have a second?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure," Michelle answered, shrugging. She was wearing some kind of fringed, beaded black shawl, and every time she moved it sparkled, bringing a little bit of flash to her otherwise matte black ensemble. "I think they're ok out there for a minute."

"Unless Justin snaps and kills her," I said, watching as Julie explained how Ticketmaster grossly inflated prices and kept music from the masses by creating an elitist socioeconomic divide among people wanting to see concerts live.

"Don't you understand?" Julie asked emphatically, her hands fluttering like small birds. "It creates a divide between the haves and the have nots, and keeps some of your fans from getting to see you live because they can't afford the cost of tickets."

"But we have to charge that much," Justin said, shaking his head. "We have all the trucks, and the equipment, and it's expensive to book stadiums. There's all those people to pay, and fees and permits and everything else."

Between all of this the two of them were ringing up customers, breaking off their discussion and picking it up again as if they had pause buttons. They were still smiling at each other, and there wasn't any animosity between them. They were just having a really spirited discussion, and the regular customers, who by this point in the week had finally figured out who Justin was, seemed to be enjoying it. We were lucky in that most of our daytime regulars were older people, who wouldn't go screaming over him. The college kids didn't really come around until the afternoon and the evening, and so far Justin had been upstairs getting ready for dinner or crying at that time of day.

"Never mind," I said, shaking my head, wondering when it became a normal occurrence to have someone upstairs crying at dinnertime every day. "You're right, they'll be fine for a couple of minutes. I wanted to ask you about, um, getting some extra help around here."

"Justin's working out pretty well," Michelle said, shrugging. "Things run smoother with him around."

"You noticed, too?" I asked, smiling a little.

"Yeah," Michelle said, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. "The boss runs a little smoother when he's around, too, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind," I said, smiling wider. "Justin and I, we, um, we're together. Officially, I mean."

"Oh, thank God," Michelle said, walking over to hug me quickly. She pulled back, looking around guiltily as if to make sure that no one saw her being warm and friendly. Her heels clicked on the storeroom floor as she returned to the doorway. "Do you have any idea what it's been like watching the two of you all week? It feels like it's been forever, Chris! You get pissed, he gets pissed, the two of you blush and giggle and moon over each other, and the rest of us just try to stay out of the way. Like I said yesterday, it's like a soap opera around here. I'm just glad you guys finally figured this out."

"It's not a problem for you?" I asked, leaning back on a shelf. "Me being with him?"

"It's your life, Chris," April said, shrugging. "I know we're friends, but I wouldn't ever tell you what to do. If you want to be with Justin, be with Justin. He's a nice guy, and he's cute as hell, but don't you dare tell him I said that."

"I won't," I said, shaking my head. Michelle tried so hard to keep her shield up all the time, but she couldn't help letting it slip every once in a while. It was good to see, every once in a while, that there was still a real girl beneath that crusty black wrapped gothic mascara shell. "But, I guess, what I'm asking is, you were Matt's friend, too. Is it a problem for you, to see me with someone else?"

Michelle frowned, her lips pursing together into a thin line.

"Oh, I see what you're asking now," she said, crossing her arms. "I don't have a problem with it at all. You're my friend, and I want my friends to be happy. This week you've been a completely different person. Not like you're a horrible person the rest of the time, or anything, but this week you haven't been so moody. It's not just that, though. You smile more, and you're more like you used to be. You probably figured this out already, but the four of us had kind of an unofficial staff meeting the other night, to talk about this."

"When was this?" I asked, wondering how I could have missed it.

"We went out for pizza, and we talked it over," Michelle said. "I don't want you to think we were going behind your back or anything, but we're your friends, and Justin is kind of our friend, too. We talked about it, and we decided that if you two wanted to make a go of it, then we would support it. He's got problems, you've got problems, and if you guys want to work on them together, we support that. We want you to be happy, and, if you think that Justin will make you happy, we're ok with it."

Frankly, I was a little surprised. I had thought that I was the only one struggling with loyalty to Matt, that I was the only one who was questioning this. I knew that the other four had talked about it, since they all kept dropping those little comments to let me know that Justin was completely acceptable to them. I didn't realize, though, that they would all be feeling variations on what I did.

"And we decided that if he hurts you, we'll beat the shit out of him," Michelle continued neutrally. "Just, you know, as a side point."

Now there were the kids I knew and loved.

"I'm glad you guys approve," I sighed, thinking about April again. Michelle looked at me curiously. "April came back last night, finally, and she, um, she said a lot of things about how I was being disloyal to Matt, and how she couldn't believe I would do this to him. I know she was surprised, but some of the stuff she said."

Michelle sighed.

"Chris, look at it from her point of view," she said. "She thought she was leaving Justin with you, and she thought you were safe. She probably thought Justin was safe, too. I'm not sure what you guys told her, or which one of you took credit for making the first move, but she's probably not sure which one of you to even be mad at. April probably hasn't ever thought of you as separate from Matthew. It might be kind of hard for her."

"It's kind of hard for me, too," I said, running my hands through my hair. The storeroom wasn't really the place to talk about this, though. It wasn't the right spot for me to work through my issues, and as much as I considered Michelle part of my family, it wasn't really her that I needed to talk to. It wasn't April, either, that I needed to make my peace with. I stood, straightening up, and looked at Michelle carefully. "Michelle, start doing some interviews, ok? Justin's going to leave, and we need someone else here, because we're going to be short staffed."

"You're going with him, aren't you?" she asked, swallowing.

"Not forever," I said quickly. "But yeah, I think I am. He needs me, so that's where I'll go. There's just some stuff that I have to do first."

I walked quickly out of the storeroom, and Justin and Julie paused their discussion again, both watching me as Michelle drifted back to her place behind the counter. I grabbed Justin's arm and tugged him into the back room, not wanting to hug him and kiss him in front of the customers now that they knew who he was. When I had him out of sight, I wrapped my arms around him. He was surprised, but hugged me back.

"Chris?" he asked.

"Will you be ok here for a couple hours?" I asked. Justin looked uncertain, but nodded slowly. I kissed him, quickly but not perfunctory, and smiled. "It's not a bad thing, Justin. I just need to go take care of some stuff, ok?"

"OK," he answered, hugging me again for a second and then letting go. "I'll miss you."

"I'll hurry," I said, heading out the front of the store to where I kept my car, across the street.


To be continued.

Next: Chapter 18


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