“Damn, man.” Asher shook his head. “That is a seriously fucked-up attitude.”
“It’s an honest observation. And are you saying I’m wrong?” Jason leaned forward. “Just between us. No political posturing, no boyfriend listening, no mother on the phone saying she’s worried about you. You’re telling me I’m not right about every single one of those things?”
“You’re right,” Asher said, his expression turning sympathetic. “But only about one thing. We’re not having kids. Daniel says taking care of me is a full-time job, and I’m too selfish to want to share him with anyone. But, damn, Jason, the rest of it….” Asher shook his head. “I don’t fuck around on him. He doesn’t fuck around on me. And, yes, we will be together in five years, and if I live long enough, in fifty, which is why we got married.”
Jason’s jaw dropped. “You’re married?”
Asher nodded.
“Why didn’t I know about that?”
“Because we didn’t have a fancy wedding. Daniel hates people looking at him, and I didn’t give a shit about anything except making him mine every way I could, so we went to city hall.”
“You’re willing to sacrifice variety and excitement for that?”
“It’s not a sacrifice. It’s a choice. And what’s variety?” Asher asked. “Going to bars and hoping to find someone who wants to fuck for a night? I’ve done that. I’m forty-two years old. I’ve fucked more guys than I can remember. You think that’s variety? Why? We didn’t invent fucking. It was around before we were alive and it’ll be around after. Doing it with someone new doesn’t make it exciting. Exciting is being more than a convenient cock. Exciting is finding new ways to make my guy smile. Exciting is getting home and having Daniel look at me like that’s the best part of his day.”
Hearing his always harsh, never sensitive cousin gush stunned Jason into silence. It also put his brain into overdrive. He had a lot to think about. Not knowing what to say, he nodded.
Asher took in a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, calmer. “Look, everyone has his own boat, and if yours gets floated by something else, that’s your thing. But those people you were talking about? The ones shouting about marriage? It means something to them. They want what your parents have. I get that you’d rather lose your left nut than set up house with someone, but don’t assume every gay guy thinks like you.”
Ironically, Asher was wrong. Jason had lived his entire life wanting what his parents had. They had been married for fifty-five years and still adored each other. He had wanted that type of relationship so much he had told himself it was worth sacrificing anything to get it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t great at sacrificing, and his weakness had destroyed his marriage and with it the opportunity to have a close-knit family.
But after listening to his cousin, Jason wondered if maybe he still had a chance for something more than frequent sex with many different people. What he didn’t know was what that something would look like and what he’d be willing to give up to get it. He picked up his bottle, drained the rest of his beer, and then raised his gaze to meet Asher’s.
“I met a guy,” he said, contradicting his earlier denial.
“Tell me about him.”
He had talked with Abe more than with anyone else he’d gone to bed with, so it made sense that when he heard that question, a fair amount of information came to mind. But what mattered most wasn’t any particular fact or anecdote.
“I like being with him,” Jason said. “And not just for sex.” He paused. “I mean the sex is out of this world, but…. You know what I mean.”
Asher nodded but didn’t say anything. The silence made it easier for Jason to talk.
“It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Then it turned into two times. And now I keep thinking I want to see him again.”
“Sounds easy enough. What’s the problem? Did he turn you down?”
“No.” Jason picked at the label on his bottle. “But if I keep getting together with him, it’ll end up being more than I expected it to be.”
“And that’s bad?” Asher asked, his tone even, not judgmental.
Was it? Jason didn’t know. He shrugged. “Are you going to tell me the only thing to fear is fear itself?”
“I don’t write bumper stickers, so no. Besides, I’m a police detective. I’ve seen a lot of things worth fearing.”
Jason smiled lightly. “So are you going to give me advice?”
“Advice?” Asher asked in surprise, as if the word was unfamiliar.
Jason nodded.
“You want advice from me?”
“I don’t have anything better to do right now.”
“Don’t make your e-mail background patterned or colorful. That shit is seriously annoying, and then when you respond, your e-mail is on that pattern.” Asher shook his head. “Half the time, I ignore the e-mails based on that alone.”