Strong Enough

I laughed, but a few minutes later, when I was alone in my bathroom washing my hands, I wondered if he was right. Would I grow tired of him? Was this going to be a brief, passionate fling? As short as it was intense? Were we going to play house here for a couple weeks and then be done with each other when he moved out? In a way, it was probably what I should hope for. That whatever this thing was between us would burn out before it affected my life on any long-term basis. Chemistry as hot as ours wasn’t sustainable anyway, right? That kind of spark always fizzled, whether you were gay or straight. I heard about it all the time from married friends.

So I decided not to beat myself up over what we were doing. It wouldn’t last long, I’d get it out of my system, and we’d both move on, free to pursue our larger goals. This was like a little side trip. All in fun. How long had it been since I’d done something just for fun? Something spontaneous, purely for pleasure?

Satisfied with that, I brushed my teeth, turned off the light and went back into my bedroom. Maxim wasn’t there, and his clothing was gone too. I wandered into the hallway, and saw that he wasn’t in the bathroom. His bedroom door was half-open, and the lamp was on.

I frowned. Should I say goodnight? We hadn’t really said it before. I’d sort of just gotten up to use the bathroom and he’d done the same. I don’t know why I assumed he’d come back to my bed. I wasn’t even sure I wanted him to. But this seemed like kind of an anti-climactic ending to a magnificently climactic night.

His lamp clicked off, and I went back into my room, feeling slightly disappointed, and then aggravated with myself for it. Don’t get weird. He’s not your boyfriend. He’s more like a…fuck buddy. Remember those? They don’t stay the night.

Right. It was better to keep some clear boundaries. Clearly even Maxim recognized that. What a relief we were on the same page. Turning back the covers, I got into bed, set my alarm, and switched off my lamp. When I lay back on my pillow, I realized I could still smell him on the sheets.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

Twenty-Four

MAXIM

I finished writing in my notebook, tucked it into the drawer, and turned off the light. I hadn’t written much, just a few immediate thoughts, but I never wanted to forget how good this felt. And if I woke up tomorrow and none of this was real, at least I’d have a record of it.

I glanced at the door

, which I’d left half-open as a sort of half-invitation. Because even though I’d have loved to sleep next to him—actually what I really wanted to do was stay up talking and kissing and touching each other all night, something I’d never done or even wanted before—going back into his bed seemed way too presumptive of me. If he wanted me there, he could come find me, but if he didn’t, that was okay, too. I understood that there were lines he did not want to cross. Not yet, anyway.

After a few minutes of silence, I knew he’d gone to bed, and I settled in beneath the covers. In the darkness, I didn’t even have to close my eyes to picture my favorite moments from tonight. His eyes looking up at me with my cock in his mouth. The way he moved inside me, slowly at first, and then with all the heated passion of a summer storm. His voice, deep and soft. I’d be lying if I said I could walk away from this.

It had easily been the hottest blowjob I’d ever had, the best sex I’d ever had, and I’d never forget the way Derek looked as he got lost inside me. He’d surrendered to it so completely, so passionately. But it was his words I loved best. Or maybe it was his honesty. His willingness to take a chance on me. He’d come a long way in a few days.

Neither of us knew where we might end up, but this was America. Anything was possible, right?

Smiling, I turned onto my stomach and stretched out. I hadn’t been looking for this. But I was damn happy I’d found it.

The next morning, I showered, dressed, and came downstairs to a surprise—Derek was at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and looking at his laptop. His hair was a little damp, and he was dressed in jeans and a casual shirt. His feet were bare. I might have imagined it, but to me he looked much more relaxed than he had in the last three days. No furrowed brow, no tight lips, no tension in his neck.

“Good morning,” I said, unable to keep a grin off my face. “I thought you’d be at work.”

He set down his coffee cup. “I didn’t have anything major scheduled, so I shuffled a few minor things to be able to take the day off. I haven’t done that in forever.”

“What will you do with your day off?”

“I have some errands to run, but I also wondered if you wanted to do some shopping. I actually picked up a few things for you on Sunday, but I’m not sure if they’ll fit or if you’ll even want them.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I meant to leave them in your room for you yesterday, but it was sort of a hectic day, and I forgot.”

“You bought clothing for me on Sunday?” I don’t know why I was so surprised—it was exactly like Derek to do something so nice. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He waved a hand in the air, dismissing it. “They might not even fit. And it’s only one pair of pants and two shirts. You’ll need more than that.”

I nodded. “Shopping today would be great. I just have to be back at three-thirty for Ellen to pick me up.”

“I can drop you off at work when we’re done. Coffee’s still hot if you want some.”

“Thank you.” I took a cup from the cupboard and filled it. To make sure I was actually awake, I pinched myself. Twice. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Not yet. I can make some, or we can go out.”

An idea came to me. “Actually, let me do it.”

His eyebrows rose. “Do what?”

“Cook breakfast,” I said excitedly. “There’s something I’d love to make for you if you have the right ingredients. It's called syrniki, and it is the most amazing thing in the world. My mom used to make them for me.”