[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities between actual events and the events in this story or the characters in this story are purely coincidental. This story involves descriptions of unsafe sexual acts between men for the purpose of erotic fantasy and is not intended to condone such acts. If you are underage or homoerotic material is otherwise illegal in your area, please do not continue. Author retains copyright; do not duplicate this story without express written consent by the author. Comments and suggestions are welcomed at lopezbos@yahoo.com]
TURNABOUT Part III
We lay in the tub until he water cooled off, reluctant to return to the present. Donny produced towels and we dried off. We dressed silently as the tub drained. In my paranoid nature, I scanned the tub with my eyes, then took a wad of toilet paper and wiped off stray brown hairs that clung to the edges. Donny watched me, fascinated with the process.
"I'd never had thought of that" he murmured.
"You want to stay married?"
Donny almost jumped, "Yeah! Of course."
"Well then" I said smiling, tossing the tissue in the toilet, "you better learn that women are a lot more intuitive and observant than men. You wouldn't notice my hair in the tub unless it clogged the drain. Trust me when I tell you she'd notice a single hair that didn't belong."
Donny shook his head, "You're right, but I hate feeling like I have to be so paranoid."
"I know, I'm not fond of it either." I checked out the rest of the bathroom to make sure that it looked like it did when we walked in. I tossed a towel onto the puddle on the floor. I turned to Donny. "Might be a good time to talk about some ground rules, let me get my shirt and we can sit down for a while."
I got my shirt from the other bathroom and saw Donny checking out the room, looking at it as though it were a crime scene. He tossed the washcloth into the hamper and looked up with a sheepish look on his face. "I do the laundry" he confessed. We went downstairs, back to the living room. We stood in the room and smiled at each other. This wasn't a place to talk, this was a place for something our parents called `company.'
"Let me show you my barn," he said suddenly. I eagerly accepted, glad to be out of the house and into a more neutral space. Donny led the way through a breezeway off the kitchen into the family garage where the beat up minivan sat forlornly surrounded by bikes, trash cans, and miscellaneous boxes. He moved straight through to another door, and we were in the `barn' at last.
"Used to be a horse barn" he said, flipping on the lights. The place was cavernous. The bays I'd seen from the driveway were just the front quarter. A horse-smell lingered in the woody, musky place. The working area was laid out like a surgery. For a garage, it lacked the greasy, dirty feel; for a barn, it was spotless. Towards the back sat four sparkling classic cars, lined up like beauty queens. I let out a low whistle.
"Only one is mine, the Camaro on the right." Donny's voice was full of pride. "The one on the left I'm working on restoring for a guy a couple of towns over, the other two are here for storage, but I love looking at them, so I keep them uncovered."
The barn was a reflection of Donny, I mused. Ordinary and utilitarian on the outside, but chock full of hidden jewels. The orderliness of the tools and layout told me a lot about the man that used it. I nodded in approval, not just for the cars, but for the whole package. Donny picked up a wrench and headed towards the far end of the barn. I followed, watching him slip into his environment without even noticing it. He wiped down the wrench with a rag and placed it in a drawer, then turned and leaned against the workbench. If I could take a mental snapshot of Donny, this would be it. Leaning casually against his workbench, his ankles crossed, his hands in his pockets. I drank in the scene, wanting to burn it into memory so that whenever I thought of him, it would be like this.
"So what's the ground rules?" he asked.
I came back from my little reverie. "Rule number one," I started, raising a finger for emphasis, "Families first."
Donny nodded, bringing his chin almost to his chest, "That's a given," he said.
"You'd be surprised." I muttered. "Rule number two: I'm not the solution to your marital problems and you're not the solution to mine."
"I don't have marital problems" he said, smiling a little. I let my eyebrows rise a bit. With that tool, I could imagine he kept his wife very happy in bed.
"You get the gist." I said, catching myself staring at his crotch. He laughed and nodded. "Rule number three: Outside we don't know each other, recognize each other, or acknowledge each other."
Donny flinched, as if pinched. "What? How do you mean?"
"I mean that on the off chance you're at the mall and I'm at the mall and we cross paths, whether we're with family or not, we don't recognize each other."
"Shit," he said, "I thought we could be friends. Outside I mean, publicly."
"Yeah?" I said, now watching my words, "Remember what I said back there, women are more intuitive than men." His face twisted into a question, and I went on, now very carefully: "I'm not sure that I could pull off being just another guy friend in public." Donny's face remained questioning. I rolled my eyes. He was either being deliberately obtuse or I was being too vague. "Right now I can't trust the way I look at you not to betray my feelings."
A smile spread slowly across his face. "And just exactly are those feelings?" I'd been had.
"Fuck you" I said smiling. "You look at a racquetball buddy like that?" I threw it back at him.
"I don't have racquetball buddies, you snob. But I get your point. But," He raised his hand, "I reserve the right to eventually recognize you in public. Eventually, maybe. OK?"
"OK," I conceded. Nothing would make me happier than to have him in my life, all aspects of my life, but I was cynical and dubious.
"What's rule number four?" he asked, crossing his arms and looking again like a catalog model.
"No more rules" I said shrugging. "At least not yet. We'll make them up as we go along."
Donny smiled and leaned back. "I've got a few rules myself," he said, holding the smile.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the car nearest me. "Shoot."
"First one: No more guys for you." Although the smile was still there, his eyes were deadly serious.
I kept my face impassive, holding his gaze. I let the silence linger a second. "Well," I started, looking around dramatically, "There are so many relationships to break off, I'll need some time to release my harem."
"Very funny, but I mean it. Can you quit hunting?"
This was a very serious question for me, one that had cost me at least one relationship. Even though I didn't play often, I did `hunt' all the time, and Donny knew it. I answered honestly: "Yes." Then I smiled at him, "Can you?" I wasn't the only one with multiple log-in names.
"Yes," he said without hesitation, "why bother?" he added, his eyes relaxing to match his smile. "Second," he said, looking down, "Next time we meet, it's at your house." He raised his eyes to see my reaction, and my expression was out before I had a chance to control it.
This time I didn't answer immediately. I had never, ever, invited any man to my house or my office. There was a line there that I didn't know I could cross, but then again, things were changing since this morning. "That's a big one," I said.
"I know," he replied, a little sarcastically and I got the message. We were, after all, standing in his garage. If I wanted to destroy him, I knew where he lived, what his wife looked like, and who he was. Right now we were in a state of imbalance. His `rule' was a good way of restoring things.
"OK," I replied. That's fair." It was easier than I expected, "But," I added quickly, "Never on my bed, or yours. Just a pet peeve I guess."
Donny nodded, "Yeah, that wouldn't be right," he said almost to himself.
"Anything else?"
Donny shook his head, "The rest we'll make up as we go along I guess."
I walked across the short distance between us and put my arms around him. He did likewise, holding me tight. "You need to go," he whispered in my ear. I nodded. I'd been `missing' now much longer than I expected to be. We kissed, then underwent the metamorphosis of going from intimate lovers to casual acquaintances. Donny gave me a half-hearted smile and walked me to my car. He watched me do a quick pat down to make sure I had everything I came with.
"I'll check out the crime scene again," he said half-sarcastically, "and eliminate any DNA evidence." I gave him a mock nasty stare and smiled. He got serious a moment, and I could tell he had a question lurking around in his mind.
"What?"
He stared at the driveway a minute before answering, then turned to face me full on. "When will I see you again?" he asked, his voice steady, but clearly fighting for control. This was hard for him and I realized that I wasn't being too empathetic. Too many things had changed for him since the day had started, despite his level of expertise and comfort, this was all astoundingly new.
"Next Wednesday," I replied, not sure if I could, but determined to clear my calendar for him. "If you're available," I added, "and if you're ready. There's no rush Donny, we've gone this long."
He nodded and smiled again, "Yeah, but I don't want to go another year between meetings either."
I wanted to kiss him goodbye, but it didn't feel right. His body language was telling me he was uncomfortable being in his driveway with me, as if there were eyes all around us. I felt the same feeling of awkwardness, but I'd learned to deal with it long ago. To compound the odd scenario, he extended his hand. I shook it, not too warmly, not too long, a regular guy handshake.
On the drive home I started sorting through the events and emotions of the morning. By the time I got home a good forty minutes later, I still felt dazed by it all. Of all the guys I'd met, Donny was the last I'd ever expect to have a real ongoing relationship with. But such was life. In short order I got swept up by the duties of the day, slipping back into the roles I'd accreted over a lifetime without really noticing. My sexual hunger sated, I didn't give the computer a second thought the rest of the day. Every now and then I'd feel a pang of satisfaction; I had a lover! Then the more cynical side of me would retort that one hot meeting does not a lover make.
Later that night, in my darkened office, it was time to make good on a few promises. I logged on and started the process of withdrawing myself from the many sites I'd joined. There were more than I cared to count; some that I hadn't been to in months, but they were there. I deleted the ads, pictures, and descriptions one at a time, being thorough and resisting the temptation to look at past correspondence. It took me almost an hour of dutiful cleanup to officially `retire' from the hunting business. As I was about to log off, an IM popped up on my screen. It took me a minute to process the login name: TobyG.
"Hey" was the only word, his usual greeting, as if we'd been talking just minutes ago. Toby, The one that got away. A bi-married guy is a weird animal, living in two worlds at the same time. You're not fully welcome in either one, and your options for friends (naked ones) is limited, to say the least. You're always looking at the menu, but can rarely order. Once in a while though, you meet a fellow traveler between the two worlds that you just click with. You get to know each other, you get that weird thing going where you feel you've been friends a lifetime. Sometimes you get to play, sometimes you avoid it to protect the friendship. And if you do get to play, it may be disappointing to learn that the spark of compatibility doesn't carry into the bed. Then there's the time that it does. That was Toby.
We met almost five years ago, and the first time we met in person I wrote him off. Too good looking, too hot, too self-confident (on the outside at least). A guy like that doesn't go for a guy like me, I'm just to average. I figured that we'd go back to being friends on line and drop the carnal lust part, which was OK by me. I was pretty surprised to learn he hadn't felt the same way. He wanted to play, and play we did. The first time, we met at a cheap motel. Both of us a little freaked by the scene, but too horny to care.
Toby had said he liked it a little rough, but I had no idea. He was shy like me, until the spell gradually came over us both. Then he was a wild man. After the first slow, lingering kiss, a rage overtook him. He grabbed me as if to throw me, challenging me. I outweighed him by a good fifty pounds and stood a good six inches over him, but he did unbalance me enough. He wrestled like a man possessed, and I took him like it was the last piece of ass I'd ever have. Sex with Toby wasn't something you experienced, it was something you survived. We got to meet a few more times that summer, the last time I had bruises that lasted a week (and had a hell of a time explaining away). Then his company moved him to the Midwest. In a little under a month, he was gone, and I'll admit I missed him more than I thought I could. I used to tell him that when I was with him I ached afterwards, and now that he was gone, I ached all the time. He thought I meant my balls, and I let him think that.
We kept in touch via the internet, and we talked on the phone now and then, but the reality was that he was six states away. The communications faded over time, picked up once in a while to catch up on each others' lives, but not like it had been. The last time I'd chatted with him was almost six months now. He had a regular guy in the next town, a nice guy too. I was glad for him, and envious of him.
"Gonna be in town next week" said the next line.
"Shit" I said out loud. My dog gave me a look, then went back to sleep. I typed why?' not wanting to add now' but thinking it instead. It'd been almost three years since I'd seen him in the flesh. Three years of meetings for coffee with guys I wouldn't look at twice and vice versa. Three years of one-time encounters to ease the urge enough to keep up the hunt. Three years of frustration and self-doubt. Ended this morning.
"Boss wants me to represent at conference, knows I know the area and the local reps, so I'm coming. I want to see you."
The little prick had his dominant moments. I typed: "How long will you be in town, and what does Jose say about that?" I liked his buddy Jose, and I knew Toby could be a tom cat at times. I wasn't thinking about Donny as much as Toby; when he went home, I didn't want him to lose Jose over me.
"Can't really talk now, kids home. Jose not an issue, see you on tues, I'll e-mail the details." And he signed off. I turned off the computer and went to bed. Too much to think about.
The weekend passed uneventfully, but I was distracted the whole time. Dinner with friends, a movie, odd jobs and errands, all covered for my lack of focus. I thought of Donny, particularly when I had to sit through a movie on my sore ass, and I thought of Toby, particularly when he sent me his hotel information and times he'd be around. I felt like a bastard telling him I'd meet him for lunch on Tuesday. I'd managed to keep my promise to Donny all of forty-eight hours. I rationalized it by treating Toby like a pre-existing condition, a friend. I promised myself I wouldn't do anything with him on Tuesday.
I arrived at the hotel lobby ten minutes late. Parking was a bitch in town. I looked around, but no Toby. I hadn't heard from him since Saturday, so maybe his plans has changed. I decided to grab a paper and sit down. I'd give him thirty minutes, then head out. Halfway through the paper, I felt two hands on my shoulders.
"The Sox are doomed, don't even hope," he said. I jumped up, partly from being grabbed and partly from hearing his voice again. I could give a shit that we were in a downtown hotel, in the lobby, in full view of everyone. I hugged him, remembering to clap him hard enough on the back to dislodge a lung to let everyone around know it was a straight-guy hug. He did the same, and you'd have to look very closely to see the crotch rub that went between us.
"Man you look great Toby" I said at last, still holding him by the shoulders at arms length.
"You do too man, you look better. That gym paid off, eh?" He mock punched me in the stomach, hard. I knew Toby, so I tightened up my stomach fast, so he hit rock. A crooked smile crossed his face. You'd have to know Toby to know this was foreplay. "Let's grab a bite, I'm starving."
He led the way to the hotel dining room. We sat and ordered, talking about our families, kids, work, everything that friends talk about. Once in a while our ankles would cross under the table, lingering together too long, rubbing too hard. By the time dessert arrived I was loaded for bear.
"I want to change out of this straightjacket" he said casually, "Let's go upstairs."
"Don't you have to get back to the conference?" I asked, but I knew the answer by his look.
"No, I'm done until this evening. The rest of the team is sightseeing, but I've been there, done that, so I'm taking it easy until I have to wine and dine the prospects." He signed the check and got up, assuming I'd follow. Of course, I did. In all the times that we'd met in seedy motels, we'd joked about a room in a nice respectable hotel in town, with nice towels and nice beds and real hot showers. Donny crossed my mind, followed instantly by the thought that what he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.
"So what about Jose?" I asked as the elevator doors cut us off from the public.
"Jose is done," he said flatly. "His wife intercepted an e-mail three months ago..." The doors opened and Toby stopped abruptly. We walked down the hall in silence, then into his room. He picked it up again there: "I got an e-mail from his account, written by her, telling me to stay away from her husband. Hell hath no fury."
"Man that sucks," I said, not really knowing what to say.
"More than you know. For the first month I kept expecting her to show up at my house or office. You know how it is after a while, you don't always remember to cover your tracks."
I nodded. Toby was notorious for leaving a wide and deep trail of his extracurricular activities. The only thing that kept him from being outed was the fact that his wife didn't really give a shit about where he was at any given moment. She had her own life and as long as Toby took care of the house and kids, she was happy to ignore things that would have sent red flags up for anyone else. "Anything?" I asked.
"No, I think Jose got her calmed down. The e-mail she saw was pretty ordinary, just asking how the job was and regular stuff. We used the phone to arrange things. I'm guessing she got into his account somehow and read his profile. He had a long list of contacts before we met, so she had a lot of guys to choose from. Jose won't sell me out, there's nothing in it for him. He knew she was watching him too." He shook his head, "Poor bastard."
"I guess not hearing from him is good, it means they're still together." I said hopefully.
"Yeah, that's why he's a poor bastard. She's a bitch on wheels. Has him totally pussy-whipped, and that was before she knew he was taking it up the ass."
I raised my eyebrows in question. Toby laughed, "Yeah, I flipped, but not all the time. He really needed to learn how to top, so I taught him."
It was my turn to laugh, "So when he beats the crap out of his next partner, he's going to wonder why the guy thinks he's weird."
Toby frowned, "Actually, it wasn't like that with him. He wasn't like..." he looked at me, and half-smiled.
"Me?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said, looking down, "He was a real nice guy and all, but it wasn't as intense."
"You never told me that."
"I know, I didn't want you to think I was pining for you, asshole."
All at once, three years evaporated. We were back in that seedy motel, stealing time from our schedules to sate a hunger that would overcome us if we didn't. I reached over to him and grabbed the front of his shirt, popping off the top button in the process. He grabbed me at the same time. When our lips met, we drew blood from the collision. Three years is a long time, regardless of Donny.
When guys say they `tore their clothes off' it's figurative. Not this time. I only half-wondered if it was my underwear or shirt that ripped, I didn't care. Toby's hands were all over me, and mine all over him. Clothes were keeping us from that contact we craved desperately. No one watching would have labeled it as gentle, but it was. I wanted Toby in his naked glory, muscles tense, sweating, erect, and almost vibrating with energy. There was a sense of urgency that drove us on, the need to connect on a purely animal level.
I bear-hugged him, hard, feeling the breath leave him. He grabbed my shoulders and arched his back, breaking my grip and nearly flipping me onto the bed. Horizontally, he had the advantage. I pulled him down on top of me, just long enough to rotate him under. His legs flailed out, catching my thigh with his knee. That was going to leave a mark, but it only served to heat me up more. I pinned him down, arms spread, my hands on his wrists. He fought me, squirming and bucking up, but the gym really had paid off. I kissed him hard, then used my legs to try and open his, but he beat me to it, hooking his ankles behind my knees and spreading my legs out painfully. Our cocks ground together, both from desire and simple geometry; as he worked to cause me pain, he pulled me tighter into him.
I put my head down next to his, bit his earlobe and then whispered, "I'm going to take your tight little ass and there's nothing you can do about it." He grunted and bucked, loosening my grip enough to squirm an arm free. He shoved my chest, pulling on his legs at the same time, and we rolled over. I still had his arm, and my other one was grabbing his ass tightly. I pulled his arm back behind him and he winced in pain. Far enough to let my free hand grab his wrist. I had him now.
Sweat was pouring off both of us, and I used it to my advantage. I bucked up, pushing him back. Now my cock was in his crack and he seized it.
"You want this?" he said between clenched teeth. My answer was to thrust upwards, letting my shaft settle between his cheeks. "Rubber first," he said, giving my cock a squeeze. I leaned towards the night table, and he quickly moved on me. In a second, he had inverted himself, pinning my arms with his knees and straddling my chest, giving me a great view of my target, but leaving me pinned.
He leaned back, and I tilted my head forward as far as I could, his elusive ass just outside of my reach. I grunted, and he descended on my throbbing cock with his overeager mouth. I jerked up, trying to get him closer, but he held fast. Toby's mouth was all over my cockhead, sucking it to the point where it hurt. Blood rushed into my already engorged organ and pounded painfully. I tried to move my arms, but he dug his legs in harder. With one hand he pulled on my nuts, with the other he grabbed my abs hard enough to make me grunt. His mouth continued to work on my cock, bringing me closer to orgasm. He knew how to keep it just on the edge. He slid his hands under my ass and grabbed my cheeks, another grunt. My hips moved of their own accord, aiming my member at his throat, even as he dodged it.
I planted my feet and pushed up, ramming my cock into his mouth hard. His teeth hurt like hell, but it was a small price to pay to throw him off balance. I got my hands free and pushed him down more onto my cock, driving up with my legs at the same time. I felt him gag and squirm, but my arms were free now. He pushed down on the bed, then on my thighs, but he was in a vice. I eased up and he pulled off, taking a huge gulp of air. He sat down hard on my chest, knocking some wind out of me. I grabbed the condoms off the table and tore the package with my teeth, all the while using my other arm to try and get a grip on the slippery sinewy body trying to pin me. I wrestled him with my legs, hooking the back of his neck and driving him into the bed between my legs. I slapped his ass hard, a resounding crack amidst the moans and grunts. In the split second of pain, I hurled him over, straddling him again. I grabbed his legs and pulled them up, burying my face in his groin and ass. I thrust my tongue out, just grazing his pucker. He moaned again, but not in pain. I reached around his legs and parted his ass, aggressively taking my time with it. His struggles subsided, but I knew it was temporary.
His mouth found my cock, and again he engulfed it. This only served to make me more eager to take him. I tossed the rubber down to him, knowing he'd put it on now, even if the fight went on longer. I felt him slide it on, giving me a hard suck in the process. My balls were dripping with his spit, and I was more turned on than ever. I tongued and fingered his spasming ass hard, making him all the more eager. We were building for that moment of penetration as if it were the orgasm itself. I knew every inch of his body, every place to touch and lick that would send him reeling, and he knew mine. I idly slid my cock in and out of his mouth, working him up with each stroke. I let myself ease up on him just enough to make him squirm out from under me, grab my waist and turn about. Face to face now, it was a pure contest of strength, and we both knew the outcome.
Toby struggled under me, while I grappled with his flailing arms. In wrestling, you fight to untangle yourself from your opponent. We were doing the opposite, struggling to embrace the opponent harder. We kissed, painfully, passionately. My arms reached for his legs, and he gave them willingly. Like a choreographed dance, I entered him, slowly, inexorably. I held the kiss while I slid into him. He shuddered as I took him, tightening his legs around me, urging me in deeper. This was what he wanted, what I wanted. We squirmed into each other, every move focused on the act. I wasn't taking him as much as he was allowing me to take him, and it was perfect. There was no thrusting or pumping, but a union of our bodies. Every muscle, every effort, for this moment.
He broke the kiss first, giving me a wicked grin. "It's not that easy," he said, tightening his ass around me. My cock felt like it was being overheated. In a swift move, he rolled us over, straddling me and taking me to the very hilt. I grunted in pleasure, feeling my cock seat firmly in his hungry ass. He ground his hips into me, torturing my balls in the process. He rode it up and down slowly, teasing me with his ass. If I'd learned to be a dominant bottom from someone, it was Toby. He slid up my abs, scraping my cock with his ass in the process. It was exquisite torture. He knew he wasn't being gentle, and he growled with pleasure at every move. I was helpless under him, my cock his personal toy to use.
He grabbed my balls hard, probably because he knew all my signals, and he wasn't going to let me come so easily. He expertly moved his hips, twisting and bending my cock inside him until I groaned from the depths of my chest. I was helpless and he knew it. I reached for his cock and wrapped my hand around it tightly, encircling the base and his balls with both hands, a human cock-ring. His cock bounced and he rolled his eyes back in his head, settling down to take every inch of me. I shook his cock, knowing what this would do, while positioning my thumbs under and behind to massage his prostate from outside as well as inside. I aimed my cock and bucked, and I felt his balls surge their release despite my iron grip. I tightened, and repeated the thrust and push, this time letting his semen flow, and flow it did.
His first shot oozed out, pumped into his rigid member by the pre-orgasm, but the second one cleared the pipes quickly, sending an arc almost over my head. A third surge hit my chest, great white gobs of satisfaction mixing with my sweat and hair. I wrung another two shots out of him, enjoying the tightening of his ring around my cock. I was close too, but this was Toby's moment.
Toby stayed hard after he came, which I loved because I liked to take care of him afterwards, and this let me prolong my own orgasm longer, knowing he'd be ready to pound nails long after he was done. As he came down from his orgasmic high, I felt his ass tighten rhythmically. He was milking me now, bringing me to orgasm using his own spent body. Our eyes locked and his focus was intense. I let my hands rest on his thighs and felt the muscles there contracting and relaxing as he concentrated on my impaled cock. He didn't move, and I didn't either, this was the ultimate moment for me. I felt the orgasm building in my nuts, but my whole body was tensing for the release. If I could marshal the energy I felt, I'd send Toby flying when I came. His pace quickened, recognizing that I was close. My back arched as I could hold it no more, and with a mighty surge, I began to come. Toby arched his back, threw his head back and moaned loudly, his cock still dripping, his ass now matching my gentle surges. For all the world I wished there was no rubber between us.
Toby leaned back further, reaching down between his legs, slowly, methodically birthing my spent and now very sensitive cock head. He paused for a moment, enjoying our last second of union, then slowly slid off with a gasp. I lay nearly unconscious, having invested every ounce of strength into the moment. He stretched out on top of me, and gently kissed my chest, then brought his lips to mine. The taste of his cum on his lips was familiar, as though years hadn't kept us apart. He slid off me slowly, settling into the crook of my arm. He looked at me in a puzzled way.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said, then gave me a little wink. "It's weird," he said slowly. Then he looked at me intently again, "don't get a swell head or anything, but I really missed that."
"Me too," I answered. I missed it more than I cared to admit.
"Are you seeing anyone?" he asked, derailing my train of thought. I had to consciously recall Donny, and the whole situation came rushing back at me.
"Yes," I said, hoping it didn't sound as tentative as I thought it did.
Toby smirked, "Slut. You should have told me before."
"I didn't really get a chance, now did I?"
Toby laughed, "Sorry about that. I don't want to screw things up for you." His face changed a little.
"OK, I don't want to sound like a total asshole here," I started, "but this is sort of an exceptional situation. You and I pre-date Donny, and you're here for a short time."
"Donny?" he asked. I'd forgotten that he knew of Donny from long ago. In fact, he'd tried to get Donny in bed too. I nodded. "You really were desperate."
I frowned at him. "He's a good guy," I offered in defense, "and I wasn't desperate. We just hit it off I guess."
"How serious is it?"
I hesitated, "One and only serious," I replied at last.
"Wow. How long?"
"We've only been together once," I said, and immediately realized how stupid I sounded. Toby frowned at me.
"Are you serious?"
I nodded.
Toby went on, "One time, and you're at the `one and only' stage? C'mon, is his ass that hot?"
I realized that explaining the Donny situation to Toby would only make things sound weirder. The fact was that I was ready for a `one and only' regardless. I was willing to give it a try with Donny, despite what had just happened with Toby. I shrugged.
Toby looked at me intently, then looked away.
"What?" I asked
"Nothing." He replied, getting out of the bed. I followed him, but he stopped me. "You know, maybe you should go. If you're serious about Donny, then you shouldn't be here."
"Ah yes, the married guy code, be honest with only the guys you fuck." I said sarcastically.
"Look," Toby's neck veins were bulging a little, a sign he was getting very pissed. I was stymied for a reason. "If you're with Donny, then have the balls to say so."
"You're sounding like me." Toby was notorious for his lack of commitment and rationalization gymnastics. The tables had indeed turned.
"And you're acting like me." He almost shouted it. "This isn't why I asked you here," he said, waving a hand at the disheveled bed, "but..."
"What?" I asked, my own voice rising now.
"Never mind." He said flatly.
I grabbed him by the shoulders. "Tell me, now," I ordered.
Toby stared at the floor. "I got offered the directorship," he said, still staring at the floor.
I smiled, "that's fantastic. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I didn't get the chance." He was still staring at the floor. There was more to this.
"And?"
"And the position is here. They want to move me back."
My hands dropped off his shoulders. "What?" My mind was reeling.
"I didn't know until this morning, I thought it was in the works, but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to say anything to anyone until I knew for sure. I didn't even know if you'd..." He trailed off, then walked towards the bathroom.
I stood there, a little dumbfounded. I thought this was to be a one-time thing between friends. "So you just wanted to see if we still had it?" It came out harsher than I wanted it to.
Toby turned to me, "Yeah, that was my purpose, to see if you still had it. Asshole." I felt slapped, and I deserved it. I took a step towards him, but he put up his hand. "You better go."
I kept walking, closing the distance between us. We stood naked, facing each other. "Toby, that's not what I meant. I just didn't expect this. It's changed everything."
He looked at me, the intensity back. He was fighting himself now, deciding which Toby should speak. "I fought for this job to come back here, to be with you. I didn't expect for you to wait for me, or to even feel the same way. I just hoped. And then this, well, I thought... never mind."
I'm not the emotional type, and cushy talk makes me uneasy, but my mouth moved of it's own accord. "I do feel the same way," it said, "and `this' as you call it, is just hot sex. I was ready to leave here with another fond memory, and ready to let you go, again. I came here hoping that I'd see you again and feel different, but I didn't, and even then, even when I knew that your leaving would hurt again, I wanted to be here, because it isn't the sex, it's you, you damned asshole, and now, you're telling me that I don't have to let you go again. I don't have to feel that hole in my life when you're gone, and I'm supposed to just shrug and say 'OK' right?"
"What about Donny?"
"I haven't got a clue."
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