Date: Wed, 13 Jan 2016 23:38:17 +0000 From: James Saint <st_jimmy88@live.com> Subject: In the Absence of Light Chapter 2 Note from the author: WOW. It's been nearly three and a half years since I first posted chapter 1 of this story. For people who enjoyed it and were waiting for the next part, I am SO SORRY. There are so many excuses I could make, but in the end, it really just boils down to this: life happens and it's not always good. So here it is, three and a half years late, the next part of the story. It's not as long as I'd like it to be, and I do have more written, but this what I feel is ready to get posted. Other chapters will hopefully follow soon! As always, I love to hear feedback from people, so shoot me a message at st_jimmy88@live.com --James ========================================================= "In the Absence of Light" CHAPTER 2 Andrew stirred in his sleep. He felt the first rays of the morning sun peering through his window and onto his face. Still tired from a night of tossing and turning, he rolled away from the light, wanting nothing more than to burrow himself back into sleep. As he turned, he blindly flung his arm out, intending to wrap it around his large body pillow so he could drift off again, at least feeling like he wasn't alone, but was met with something much warmer and more substantial than a pillow. His eyes shot open and he found himself staring into the smoky blue eyes of the man he adored. Joe smiled, his pronounced canines which Andrew had always found incredibly attractive glinting in the light of the sun, as he saw the shock and confusion in Andrew's face. "Morning," Joe said simply before Andrew had a chance to say anything. "Joe! Um...what...what are you doing?" Andrew exclaimed, feeling more embarrassed than anything else as he sat up and tried to put a modest space between himself and Joe, despite the fact that being this close to him, in a bed no less, was something he had wanted for years. "I think it's kind of obvious, isn't it?" Joe replied, his grin taking on the slightest hint of mischief. Joe also sat up and scooted himself closer to Andrew, closing the remaining gap between them. Andrew, his eyes cast downwards out of reflex, shyly looked sideways to see that Joe was wearing nothing but a pair of dark red boxer-briefs, which clung snugly to his Adonis-like body and contrasted in the most amazing way with his fresh cream-colored skin. His eyes slowly rose up, trailing over Joe's toned, smooth abdomen which was showing the early signs of an 8-pack, then over his firm chest with each proud, muscular pectoral tipped with deliciously pink, perfect sized nipples that seemed to be screaming for someone to taste them. Andrew's eyes lingered on Joe's chest for a moment longer, his heart beginning to pound like a drum and his breath becoming noticeably shorter. Then, he finally let his gaze rise to meet Joe's face. He looked into the eyes of his best friend and allowed himself to absorb every detail; the platinum blonde stubble on his impossibly square jaw, his adorable yet sexy button nose and, of course, those eyes whose icy blue both froze and burned Andrew's very core. "Joe...I don't know what to..." Andrew started, but Joe cut him off by gently caressing the side of Andrew's face. "Hey, buddy, it's ok. I know. I've always known. I just didn't realize that I've always felt the same way about you until last night," Joe said, his voice soothing and kind. "But what about Miranda?" Andrew asked, his eyes never leaving Joe's. "Don't worry about her. I told her this morning that I just wasn't feeling it...that I didn't really think we had a future with each other. She's fine." "But I thought you—," Andrew began. "Don't think. Thinking instead of feeling is why we've both spent the last two years wanting something that was right in front of us but never reached out for. I'm tired of waiting, Andrew. I want you. And I think you want me too," Joe said, his voice becoming huskier with each word as he inched his face closer and closer to Andrew's. Andrew felt static against his lips as he allowed Joe to move closer to him. Joe brought his arm around Andrew's back and held him, his palpable strength making Andrew feel safer than he ever had before in his life. Andrew could feel and smell the warmth radiating off of Joe and it was beyond intoxicating. His heart was leaping, his breaths grew ragged and he had to fight to hold back a tear of pure joy as he realized that he was only a moment away from tasting the rubious lips that he had yearned for for so long. *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*, the alarm clock blared. Andrew awoke with a start, his face firmly planted into the body pillow that he clung onto like a drowning man clutches onto a life preserve. Before he even opened his eyes, he could feel that beautiful leaping joy in his heart give way to a deep and crushing disappointment. A dream. Of course, it had been a dream. He pulled the pillow tighter to himself, willing, begging his brain to let him go back; back to sleep, back into the dream and back into Joe's arms. After a moment, he realized that it was too late. Grudgingly, he rolled over and smacked the alarm clock at his bedside, silencing the thing that had ripped him from his revelry. He opened his eyes to see the morning sun at full blaze and took a deep breath, only to smell freshly brewed coffee wafting in from the kitchen. He took a moment to enjoy it before his eyes shot open as he realized that it was a weekday. Joe would have left for work nearly an hour ago and he hated coffee. Rolling out of bed and trying his best to make his semi-shaggy, raven black hair presentable, he opened his bedroom door and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. There, sitting at the breakfast table with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands, was Miranda. "Andrew! Joe told me I could sleep in a bit when he took off for work. I made some coffee. I hope you don't mind," she said, smiling brightly. "Not at all. I think I'll get a cup for myself too," Andrew replied, trying not to sound awkward or flustered. Andrew asked her if she slept well as he poured himself a cup of coffee and mixed in his obligatory two packets of sweetener. Turning a barely noticeable shade of pink, she said she had and asked him the same question. His thoughts flashed back to the dream he had had no more than 10 minutes before and he felt a flush upon his cheeks as he responded that he had. He came to join her at the coffee table and the two just sat in silence for a moment, the steam from their coffee mugs wafting up between them. "We're going to have problems, aren't we?" Miranda asked, hesitation and a near-painful regret in her voice. "What?" "You and I. Things are going to be...difficult," she responded, staring into Andrew's face and searching desperately for a sign that she was wrong. "I don't understand, Miranda. Why would we have problems?" Andrew asked, genuinely confused. "Joe. You're in love with him, aren't you?" A deafening silence descended upon the two as the words sunk into Andrew. She knew. This girl that he had only known since the night before knew the secret he had guarded for years. Panic ripped through Andrew's mind as he stumbled to find a way to respond, but she continued before he had a chance. "Andrew, it's ok. I knew the moment we met. That look in your eyes could only mean one thing. God, I'm so sorry." Andrew stared at her face, searching her eyes, and all he saw was kind pity. "I promise you I won't say anything to him about it. It's not my place. I know that. I just...I just wanted to make sure you and I understand each other. I meant what I said last night, I really do want to be friends. But I'm guessing that's not going to be easy...am I right?" she asked, gracefully careful with every word. Forcing himself to collect and compose his panicking mind, Andrew drew a deep breath before he responded, "He can never know. Please, Miranda." "He'll never hear it from me, I swear. You're his best friend. He talks about you all the time, like you're his brother. I would never do anything that might hurt that," she responded without hesitation. Words that should have been a comfort to Andrew sent a fresh wave of sorrow to his core. A friend. A brother. That's what he was to Joe and all he could ever hope to be. He could never be that person who could make Joe's eyes light up the way they had the night before. He could never hope to wake up next to that strong, warm body and curl up into the safety and comfort of those arms. He could never be Miranda. Sensing the storm of sadness raging quietly inside Andrew, Miranda slowly reached across the coffee table with both hands and took one of his. "I'm so sorry, Andrew. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be the person responsible for hurting you. If there's anything I can do..." "No. Please, just don't worry about it. I'll be fine. Thank you for understanding. And for keeping this between us. I really appreciate it," Andrew responded, both hating the pity and appreciating the compassion he felt in her soft hands. "Of course. If you ever need to talk or vent or anything, I'm here. I know how strange that is, considering the situation, but I just want you to know that. I'm here," she said as she drew her hands back and wrapped them around the heat of her coffee mug. Andrew smiled back and nodded his understanding. "You make him really happy," Andrew said simply, "I've never seen him smile like that before. Thank you for that." "He makes me happy too. There's something about him that's just so-" Miranda stopped abruptly, looking at Andrew apologetically. "He's just so Joe. I know what you mean," he replied, smiling sadly. Once again, silence came upon the two as they sat. After a few moments, Miranda looked at her phone and noticed the time. "I should get going. Work starts in about an hour for me," she said as she rose and took her coffee mug to the kitchen sink. Andrew rose and walked her to the door, opening it for her as she retrieved her keys from her purse. Looking up at Andrew, she leaned in and gave him a hug. "I'm glad we talked. And like I said, I'm here if you need me," she said as she walked through the threshold of the door. "Me too. Thanks, Miranda. I'll see you later." With a smile, she turned and walked down the paved path leading to the street, where her car was parked. Andrew watched her for a moment before he softly closed the door. Sitting again at the coffee table, he was able to take in one deep breath before he felt hot tears begin to form in his eyes.