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TOBY

There’s beensomething bothering Atty for days now. I think it started before he met my friends, but I started noticing it more since. I keep wanting to ask, but it feels like prying. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.

It’s been nearly two months and we’ve talked about very little of consequence outside of sex and sexual things. There have been some conversations, but they’ve always been short-lived.

Actually, that’s not true. We talk about a lot of things, but they all feel trivial. Like they don’t matter. Do I really know anything about him? Does he even want me to?

But we really do talk all the time. Mostly through text, but after we fuck now, too. I love those moments. The quiet minutes and sometimes hours that pass as we lay together. Softly touching. Quiet voices. Sharing random, maybe inconsequential things.

Of course, outside the few hours we hung out with my roommates, we haven’t actually spent, like… quality time together. We haven’t gone anywhere or done anything that can be considered bonding or some shit. We remained close the entire time with my roommates that day. Whenever I wasn’t touching him, he’d move closer until I did.

It felt good. He wanted to feel me in some way and the way I fucking preened because of it.

But it’s been very different since. Not in that he doesn’t want me touching him. He definitely does. We’ve been seeing each other more over the last week and a half than we have the entire seven weeks before that. Well, that’s an exaggeration.

Still. I can see that something is bothering him. I can feel that he’s closed off. Then today when he leaves, he kisses me as he normally does, but it feels like he avoids looking at me when he does and then hurriedly walks away.

I watch him climb into his car. He doesn’t start it right away and I stare through my window until he drives off a few minutes later.

My phone is in my hand, and I desperately want to text him, but I’m not sure what to say. Everything feels like overstepping. Prying when he’s trying to avoid the topic.

I can only imagine how much that weighs on him. Maybe the weight has become too heavy.

If I dawdle any longer, I’m going to be late. Even though I don’t need the money from Medieval Company, I like the freedom of being able to work somewhere that makes me happy and I have fun. Thus, Medieval Company. The money isn’t bad, and I get to wear armor and fight with medieval weapons. What’s not to love?!

With one more glance out the window, I head to my bathroom to clean up properly without trying to squeeze two bodies into a shower stall that’s barely big enough for one. As much as I try not to think about Atty, he doesn’t leave my mind as I go through my pre-work routine.

Nor does he leave my mind when I get to work. The only time I’m somewhat more focused on what I’m doing is when Darwin and I are on the floor performing our roles. I’m up for a battle tonight as the challenger (and subsequent winner) of the duel, so I’m forced not to concentrate on Atty too much.

Which is probably a lot better for my mental wellbeing than anything. I’m feeling better by the time my night is over. Despite subtly looking for Atty in the crowd, even knowing he’s not there. I’ve found myself doing this every night I work since meeting him, as if he’d come to the show every day.

As I’m heading to my car, I realize that what I’m not doing anymore is checking out everyone else. There’s always someone hot to find in the crowd. Someone who’s humored his friends, like Atty, or a guy who did this for his girlfriend’s birthday. A super hot single dad bringing his kids out on his day with them. Hell, I’ve even seen a grandpa that I’d totally be down to bang.

But since meeting Atty, I’ve barely registered anyone else.

Which poses a bigger problem if Atty’s talking himself out of this arrangement. I manage to keep myself contained until I get home and settle into bed. Maybe I can convince him to send me a dirty pic.

I get comfortable under my blankets before texting Atty. It’s late, but most of the time, he responds. There’s a sappy part of me that likes to pretend he’s been waiting up to make sure I get home safely. To check in on my night because he misses me. He’s been thinking about me and wants to see a text before he falls asleep.

Tonight, I try not to assume these romantic reasons he’s usually awake when I text him. There’s already a sour feeling in my stomach, which only deepens when the minutes tick by and he doesn’t respond.

No, I don’t stare at my phone, wishing he’d text back for twenty minutes. Not at all…

When it’s clear he’s not going to answer and I convince myself he’s probably just asleep like normal people are at this hour, I turn to my ReachMe account for some pick-me-up content from my favorite couple.

All the content hidden behind a paywall is sexual in nature. Which is fine. I get it. You have to make a living somewhere and this is how they’ve chosen to do it.

But there’s some content to free subscribers, which are usually little glimpses into their lives. Personal moments. Sometimes these lead into a sexy video that you have to upgrade to a paying tier for. Most of the time, they’re just little peeks. The stuff they put on other social media platforms are tiny snippets of these as they drive people here. It totally worked for me, so there’s definitely some effective strategy in their posting.

I skip the sexy stuff tonight in favor of the sweet. I guess I’m feeling rather sappy as I watch how they look at each other. Even when they’re doing current trends, you can just feel their chemistry. I love their kisses, how they’re so hot and consuming. The way they cuddle and hug and take pictures together.

Maybe I’m so fixated on these two because it’s the kind of relationship that I long for. I want someone to look at me the way Apollo and Psyche do each other. I want to laugh with my partner while visiting exotic places. To be consumed by the way he loves me.

Of course, I also want the burning hot sex life, too.

There’s a chance that maybe I see myself with Atty, which is why it’s bothering me so much that he’s been so reserved lately. Like my heart knows that this is the man for me. He answers my kink, getting lost in it himself. But I know deep down, if we allowed ourselves a more personal connection, that we could be just as compatible as Apollo and Psyche.

* * *

I sleepin later than normal. Probably because I ended up watching a whole slew of videos spanning back to the beginning of their joint account. Getting lost in their love, watching it grow and expand exponentially from the beginning is something that warms me. It’s like watching a love story in real time. A real one without a script.

There are videos when I think, I’m watching them fall in love right now.

My heart aches because I fucking want that all of the sudden. A part of me has always wanted an epic love story, but it had been a ‘someday in the future’ goal. The sudden longing in my chest says I’ve arrived at someday and am ready for it now.

And I want my partner to be Atty.

So my heart sinks when he hasn’t responded to my message from last night. He hasn’t even read it. It’s past eight, so I know he’s awake. Well, I’m reasonably convinced he’s awake, anyway.

“Not a big deal,” I tell myself and get out of bed. My gaze catches on the spot behind my headboard where I cracked the drywall fucking Atty last week. A shiver races through me and I turn away. “He’s just sleeping still.”

It’s a lie if I ever heard one. But I am overthinking it. There’s even a chance that I made up the entire thing. Maybe nothing is bothering him at all. And if something is, what’s to say it has anything to do with me? Hockey is stressful. There’s every bit of reason to think that the something bothering him could have to do with his career.

Maybe he wasn’t avoiding looking at me yesterday when he left. Maybe he sat in his car because he got a phone call and was being safe by connecting it to his Bluetooth before he left.

There are a lot of maybes, and they could all very well be the truth. I’m even convinced I can prove it to myself by texting him and he’ll respond.

Except… I don’t know what to text him. Everything I think of sounds like I’m desperate, and I don’t want to be that person. I’d like to think that if he wants to walk away, then I’m big enough to accept that.

To give myself time to gain perspective, I leave my phone on my bed and move through my morning routine—shower, teeth, lotion, dress. I even take my time, convinced that I’ll have a text when I get back to my phone.

I do not.

Fuck my life. What have I done to myself?!

To avoid actually calling Atty, I do the next best thing. I call Jayse. He answers and I’m ready to let it all spill out. No more avoiding it or pretending it’s not happening. I can’t do that today. Not when I’m probably wrongly convinced that it all just fell apart!

“I need you to talk me off the ledge,” I tell him when he answers. “I think something’s bothering Atty and I think it has to do with me and he left yesterday but didn’t look at me and then sat in his car for a while before he drove away. Now he hasn’t answered my text from last night. Tell me I’m overthinking.”

I close my eyes and wait for Jayse’s answer.

“You’re overthinking.”

I wince because that wasn’t Jayse’s voice. It was Vulcan’s.

“Sorry,” Jayse says. “We’re in the middle of polishing, so I put you on speaker. You started talking before I could tell you.”

A groan escapes and I fall into my chair. “Am I really overthinking, or did you say that to appease me, V?” I ask.

“Both,” he answers. I hear the quiet shush shush of wool on metal as they polish whatever it is they’re working on. “I don’t really know enough to say for sure, but it sounds like you’re reading into a lot that maybe is of your own imagining.”

“Let’s rewind a minute. Why do you think something is bothering him?” Jayse asks.

“Oh, that’s a good question!” Vulcan says, and I find myself grinning.

It fades quickly, though. I try to explain the feeling I got. The look I’ve been seeing in his eyes. And why I think that something could be bothering him. “He’s only barely touched on the fact that he’s doing something he’s never done before. Which is a guy. I’m not stupid. I can imagine that it’s shocking when you’ve lived almost three decades of your life believing one thing about yourself, only to find that maybe it’s not what you thought it was. He’s outright told me he’s avoiding thinking about it because gender shouldn’t bother him. But we all know you can’t just ignore sexuality and pretend it’s not a thing.”

Jayse snorts. “Not even a little bit.”

“No,” Vulcan agrees. “It’s also not healthy to do so. We tell the kids that they always need to think about what they feel and why. It’s valid, even if it’s confusing and they don’t understand.”

“That’s a good policy,” I admit, sighing. “But Atty isn’t a kid. He’s a grown ass man.”

“You haven’t talked about it at all? Talking to a gay man about maybe having gay feelings is probably the best person to talk to,” Jayse says.

I laugh. “Jayse, we barely talk about anything. Just sex stuff.” Yeah, I’m totally screwed. This is entirely one-sided. He’s probably just trying to find a way to stop seeing me. He knows I’m in this deeper than he is. Great sex isn’t worth dealing with unrequited feelings.

“Maybe you should change that,” Vulcan suggests.

“I’m not going to be some needy creep who keeps texting him until he responds,” I say. “I have some dignity.”

But do I? Do I, really?

“That’s not what he means,” Jayse says. “I’m confident he’ll text you at some point, even if it isn’t today. And the next time you see him, it’s time to talk to him about something real.”

“Yes. Even if it’s not about how you feel. You can just begin with something you like. Find things you have in common,” Vulcan adds.

“Like hockey,” Jayse says.

“Oh! Does he like hockey?” Vulcan asks.

“He’s a pro hockey player, V. Keep up,” Jayse teases.

“No!” Vulcan says, and I can just see the surprise on his face. “How did I not know this? Why are you keeping the juicy things from me, Toby?”

I laugh. My smile feels good. “Sorry, Vulcan. It’s kind of… a secret, I guess.”

“Because he’s not out,” Vulcan says. It’s not a question. “I understand a little more. Maybe he feels pressured.”

“Maybe,” I agree. I’m not sure I believe it. He’s got a gay player on his team and they’re friends. They’ve been hanging out since Noah was traded last summer. And there’s the gay trainer on their team that he’s also good friends with. “Maybe,” I repeat and it sounds less convincing, even to my own ears.

I go over all the random little things that we’ve talked about that have nothing to do with sex, wondering if there’s something in the small things that might give me some indication of what it is. Maybe he’s said something, and I just wasn’t paying attention.

“Want to come home for a few days?” Jayse asks. “You’ll feel better if you’re with us.”

“I have to work tonight and tomorrow. But maybe this weekend.”

“Okay. We can continue to examine this if you want to.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him no. But… “Yeah,” I say. “Thanks. I think maybe I just need to talk about it. Maybe if I do, then I’ll realize there’s nothing to worry about and I’m totally being overdramatic.”

But the longer we talk about it, the more I’m convinced that’s not the case. By the time we get off the phone hours later when I have to get ready for work, Atty still hasn’t returned my messages. Only this time, I can see he’s read it.

He’s left me on read.