Page 17

CHAPTER 16

SO MUCH LESS

CHUCK

Thank fuck he was almost done with this med-switching bullshit .

Chuck lay curled up on the couch in his softest pajama pants and an old t-shirt, flipping through the channels. He’d absently chipped away at the sky-blue polish he’d painted his nails with earlier in an effort to cheer himself up. So much for that , he thought, frowning at the TV. He stopped when he landed on a show about fly fishing. He liked the trickling sound of the river where the older man waded in the water, softly explaining how the weather conditions impacted his casting technique. It was exactly the sort of soothing, mindless thing Chuck needed to distract himself from the fact that his whole body felt like a bruise.

A loud knock on the door startled him to his feet. He looked out the front window and felt his stomach flop uncomfortably at the SUV parked beside his car.

Tommy .

He opened the door, breath catching. He was so relieved to see his friend there, like Tommy’s presence on his doorstep might be enough to chase the clawing apathy away.

Tommy’s tan face was resolved as he looked up at Chuck, his hair flopping perfectly over his forehead. He’d obviously come right from work—his tie was still tight around his neck and his navy suit jacket was cut perfectly around his strong upper body.

“Hey,” Chuck said.

Tommy stared at him for a moment. “Can I come in?”

Chuck nodded, stepping aside, and got a noseful of Tommy’s cologne as he brushed past. Tommy took off his shoes quickly and then went and sat down on one of the chairs that faced the couch.

Shit . Tommy always sat with him on the couch. Swallowing, Chuck padded on bare feet over to the couch, tucking his legs up under himself as he sunk back into the cushions. Sitting up felt like too much work.

“Are you okay?”

Chuck saw the concern clear on Tommy’s face. “Fine,” he said, hating the bitter taste of the lie on his tongue.

Tommy frowned, and for a moment Chuck thought he was going to push back. But Tommy shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.

“There are a few things that I want to say,” Tommy began.

Chuck’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He nodded.

“I’m not good at pretending, Chuck. Not after the past few years. So I’m sorry if I come on too strong, or if what I say is too much.” Tommy smoothed his hands down his thighs. “I think it’s only fair if I’m honest with you. I’ve done the ‘say what I think they want to hear’ thing, and we both know how that turned out.”

Skinny Bones chose that moment to prance into the room. He jumped onto the couch and shoved his soft head against Chuck’s bouncing knee, and something in him settled as he felt the low vibrations of his purring against his body.

A small, pained smile played on Tommy’s mouth. “I’m into you, Chuck. Really, really fucking into you. I’m here because I’m not looking for anyone else. I can’t imagine wanting anyone else while you’re in the world. But you were a dick. I get that you are looking out for yourself, but you hurt me, man. You really fucking hurt me.

“Do you not believe me? Do you think I’m lying when I say that I want you? Chuck, if we weren’t already friends I’d be asking you out, asking you a million questions about who you are and what you like, because I’d be that desperate to get to know you better. But I already know you,” he said, his smile growing as he looked at Chuck. “So I already know you’re my favorite person in the world. My days are better when I’m sharing parts of them with you, and when I think about you, I feel fucking overwhelmed, because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone like I want you. Something about you has my body starving for you—” He stopped abruptly, an anguished look on his face. “I feel like I’m fucking this up,” he said, and Chuck couldn’t be sure if Tommy was talking to himself or to him.

Chuck had no idea what to say. On the one hand, there was Tommy: beautiful, impossible Tommy, sitting there and saying everything Chuck had never allowed himself to imagine. He wanted him , wanted Chuck in a way that made heat and warmth and emotion surge inside his chest. Everything was right there, plopped onto his lap, and all he needed to do was reach out and grab it.

But Tommy didn’t know everything. He didn’t know that Chuck wasn’t the man he projected to the world. He didn’t know about the sadness and desperation that sometimes threatened to drag him under. He didn’t know Chuck was so much less than Tommy thought he was.

Tommy cleared his throat, shooting a tense smile at him as he pushed up to standing. “Anyway. I just needed you to know where I’m at. What happened in the locker room was—fuck, Chuck, it changed everything for me.” He paused, gathering himself. “But I need you to talk to me. I deserve at least that. If you decide you’re in, it’s on you to take that next step. And if you’re not, if you want to shut this down, then you owe me that too.”

Chuck didn’t have time to react when Tommy walked across the room and bent down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. It was so unexpected, so tender and sweet, that Chuck could only sit there frozen and dumbstruck as Tommy slid his feet back into his shoes and, with nothing but a quiet, “Later, Chuck,” walked out the door.

Holy fuck .

Tears pricked Chuck’s eyes, and he felt an overwhelming rush of anger. Fuck the part of his brain that had convinced him he didn’t deserve a man like Tommy. Why couldn’t he just open his mouth and say: Yes, Tommy. Yes to all of it. Please wrap me up in your arms and tell me that we can take on the world together, that I don’t have to be alone anymore. Please, please love me and be gentle with my heart .

But the moment had passed. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes but still the tears came, streaming down his face like a faucet had been opened.

At least he had the new meds on the horizon. He’d start them next week, and hopefully he’d find equilibrium again. He needed them to work.

Skinny Bones dug biscuits into Chuck’s thigh, and absently, Chuck reached out to scratch the cat’s head. Only then did he realize he hadn’t said anything to Tommy. His friend had done something brave, so much more courageous than Chuck was capable of being, and he’d just sat there.

He’d sat there and let him walk away.

Shame joined the dark desperation crowding the edges of his vision, and Chuck did the only thing that he could: lay down with his arms curled tightly around his middle.

* * *

Chuck was giddy when he picked up his new prescription.

As soon as he got home he double checked the dosage and tossed the pill back. He felt tangible relief as he chased it with a long drink of water, like tension was melting away. He knew the instant ease was probably a placebo effect, but he didn’t give a shit.

Better was better, no matter how he got there.

He moved through the day, running errands while shoving all of the heavy shit that weighed on him to the back of his mind for later. He’d tackle the long list of things he needed to think about once the meds kicked in. When he felt stronger.

He painted his nails—a dark turquoise, this time, because it reminded him of the shadows on the bottom of the outdoor pool in the early morning before the sun came up. He was going to grab dinner with Miguel and Wade and had already put on a nicer pair of jeans and a soft linen button up that Tommy had once told him was the color of oatmeal.

He and Wade got to the restaurant at the same time, and only had to wait a few minutes for Miguel to join them. Their table was tucked back into a corner, and Chuck agreed to share a bottle of wine Miguel picked out.

“How’s work?” Chuck asked Wade, who was frowning down at his glass of water.

Wade grunted. “You mean the absolute shitshow of a minor league team I’ve got to figure out how to coach?”

“Those kids are lucky to have you,” said Miguel.

“They’re bratty adults,” Wade muttered. “I wish they were kids, sometimes.”

Chuck tried and failed to hide his smirk. “But then you couldn’t be your full, dickish self. You have to actually be sweet with little kids.”

“You do remember that I have a child, right?” Wade rubbed a hand over his face. “Enough about my life. How’s summer going for you two? Miguel, are you and Richard packed for Guatemala?”

Miguel and their husband were traveling to Guatemala on a research grant to study indigenous textiles of the region over the summer. They replied, “We leave next week. Richard can paint from anywhere, so we'll be traveling and studying and eating kak’ik. Living the dream,” they added with a happy sigh.

“Lucky dog,” Wade said, shooting Miguel a teasing smile.

Chuck felt good and happy, and maybe even a little bit lighter than he’d felt for the past two months. Maybe the meds were actually working.

“How’s swimming with your hot friend who you definitely don’t have a crush on?” Miguel asked, wiggling their eyebrows.

Oh. Right. Chuck hadn’t told them about…everything. He knew Wade had hung out with Tommy at least once, but wasn’t sure how forthcoming Tommy had been with him. He considered holding back—maybe it was better to guard everything happening between him and Tommy. To keep it close.

But as he looked at his two friends, who watched him with earnest compassion and understanding, he realized if anyone in the world could understand, it would be the two of them.

He launched into an explanation of everything that had happened: the kiss after David’s birthday, the subsequent conversation in the pool and then Tommy venturing out to date other people and explore his sexuality. He kept his gaze fixed on the table as he told them about the locker room hook-up, Tommy’s heartfelt confession, and all of the reasons why Chuck thought pursuing anything more with him was a bad idea.

“He’s too new, right?” Chuck asked, hands waving in front of himself for emphasis. “He’s known he’s bi all of a month, and now, what? He thinks we can date?” He shook his head. “There’s no way he can know for sure, and I can’t do that to myself. What if we start something and then he changes his mind?”

Wade was frowning at him, and Miguel wore a similar expression of discomfort on their face.

“What?” Chuck asked. “What should I do?”

Miguel took a deep breath before responding. “I know being queer hasn’t been easy for you. That part of yourself cost you your relationship with your parents, and I understand how crushing and deeply unfair that is. You, like so many others, have spent a lot of time in the closet, and that is okay . For you, that was the path that felt safe and real.” They paused, and reached out to gently grasp Chuck’s hand. “But just because that was your path doesn’t mean it will be Tommy’s. If this realization is easy for him, if coming out as bisexual is effortless, then that is what is true for him.”

“You don’t get to gate-keep queerness,” Wade added, his expression sympathetic. “You don’t get to define someone’s sexuality for them.”

Their words punched right through him. He knew they were right, both of them. He knew he had no right to tell Tommy he was wrong about what he wanted, that he didn’t know himself and his desires. “But if it’s real…” Chuck started, his voice wavering.

“Then the fantasy could become a reality,” Miguel offered. “And, that, mi amor , can be terrifying.”

“Fuck,” Chuck muttered, burying his head in his hands.

That was exactly what he was afraid of.

* * *

It wasn’t until Chuck was in his car that he realized how long it had been since he’d been to Tommy’s place. Sure, he’d helped him move in after he and Courtney had sold their house, and had maybe been over to watch a game one weekend with the guys, but most of their time together was spent at Chuck’s place.

He walked up to the door to Tommy’s condo, swallowing in an effort to calm the nervous energy that buzzed in him. He forced an audible exhale and knocked.

“Chuck?” Tommy blinked at him. “Hi. Come in.”

Chuck walked in, pausing in the entryway to untie his Converse high tops. He glanced over at Tommy, who was watching him with an uncertain frown on his face. He wore an undershirt still tucked into his slacks, and his hair was especially messy, sticking up from his head like he’d been tugging at it.

Chuck followed him into the sterile, open-concept kitchen and living area. There was an open laptop on the small dining table with papers and folders strewn about. “Sorry about the mess,” Tommy said, rushing over to the table and shuffling the papers into a haphazard pile. “I’ve got so much shit to do with this promotion coming up. It’s like Rick expects us to be able to offer an in-depth explanation of every single number generated on every single report. Do I know why the fuck the average length of rental is down this calendar year at the Downtown branch? No, Rick. I don’t fucking know.” He huffed, ran his fingers back through his hair, and then looked up at Chuck. “Sorry,” he said, his mouth tugging into a tight smile. “What’s up?”

Chuck wet his bottom lip. “Can we sit?”

Tommy’s shoulder dropped, and something shifted in his dark eyes. “Of course. Can I get you anything?”

“I’m okay,” Chuck said, hating the layer of tangible awkwardness that had settled between them. He sat at one end of the gray couch, relieved when Tommy sat down beside him. He cast a quick glance around the room, noting the boxes still piled in a corner and the empty white walls. For a man of Tommy’s vibrancy, who felt like a home himself, it felt wrong that his place had even less personality than a hotel room.

Focus , he chided himself. Tommy had thrown it all out there the last time they’d talked, and now it was Chuck’s turn to be brave. He’d run out of excuses; every time he dug into his mind to find a real, rational reason why he was holding back from going after what he’d always wanted, the only thing he found staring back at him was his own fear.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m so sorry for leaving things the way I did at the pool. For what I said. T, you’re incredible and brave and you get to be who you are without my—or anyone’s—validation.

“I’ve had a crush on you, you know. Since college. It was harmless because I knew you’d never reciprocate. But now…” He trailed off, meeting Tommy’s stare head on. “It’s hard to change something like that. It’s scary to have dreams come true, especially the ones that have always felt impossible. What I feel for you is huge . It’s been trapped here,” he tapped his hand over his pounding heart, “for years, with nowhere for it to go, and it’s terrifying, Tommy. It fucking scares me because I’m not…I’m not as strong as I look, and if I let you in and then you change your mind or decide you don’t want me in the way I want you, I think it might break me.”

Tommy’s eyes were wide and the muscles in his jaw flexed. Chuck wanted to reach out and slide his thumb across the five o’clock shadow there, but refrained. “I’m not used to the story where I get the guy,” Chuck went on. “But I’m here, and even though I’m scared and my whole world feels like it’s turning upside down, I want to try. I want to see what something between us could be like, because if it’s even half as amazing as I’ve imagined it could be, I'll be the luckiest man alive.”

Tommy blinked at him, his mouth slack even as something that looked a whole lot like hope brightened his eyes. “You want to try?”

Chuck nodded. “I’m in if you are.”

“I’m in.”

For a moment they sat there unmoving, watching each other. Slowly, like the sun creeping up over the thick treetops that surrounded the Southeastern outdoor pool, a smile transformed Tommy’s face.

“So, how do we start?” Tommy asked, looking at Chuck with such blatant wanting Chuck felt his cheeks heat.

A part of him wanted to say fuck it and tackle Tommy into the couch, only coming up for air when it was absolutely necessary to stay alive. But if they were doing this, if they were really doing this, then there wasn’t a rush. They had time.

Chuck could have a taste, though.

He grabbed a handful of Tommy’s soft undershirt, and pulled him into a kiss. He felt Tommy sigh, his lips opening to perfectly slot their mouths together. Tommy was gentle, careful, and Chuck felt his reservations and fears melt away.

Their tongues brushed and heat tightened in his belly. Reluctantly, Chuck drew back, a smile on his face as he threaded his fingers through Tommy’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “Let’s wait until we get to the lake to try more,” he said tenderly.

Tommy sighed, but the smile stayed fixed on his face. He leaned into Chuck’s touch. “If you say so,” he murmured.

“Only a few more days.”

“Is it lame for me to say that I’m excited?”

“Not lame,” Chuck said back, his cheeks aching from his own giddy joy, reluctantly withdrawing his touch. “Not lame at all.”

“I’ll see you soon?”

“Soon.”