Date: Thu, 21 Jan 2016 11:06:29 -0600
From: The Goblin <thegoblin312@gmail.com>
Subject: Nick and Jimmy Chapter 2

"Nick and Jimmy"
By The Goblin

Nifty Archive: Gay Male: Celebrity

This story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true
sexuality of Nick Robinson or Jimmy Bennet or any personal knowledge about
their private lives.

Please support the nifty archive and help keep this great resource
available for many years to come.

Feedback: thegoblin312@gmail.com


Chapter 2


	I woke up early the next morning right after sun rise.  An instant
smile grew on my face before my eyes were all the way open.  I could feel
him curled up into me.  I could smell his scent.  I didn't even care how
bad my neck hurt from lying in an awkward position all night.
	He was in a deep sleep.  I carefully moved my legs and slowly got
up, trying not to disturb him too much.
	"Mm hmm," he mumbled as I made one last adjustment to stand.
	I looked down at him, waiting to see if he would wake up.  He did
not.
	As I stretched my neck I headed for the bathroom.  Before I left
the room I took a look back at his sleeping face.  I would like to say that
he slept like an angel, but he did not.  Instead he was all balled up with
a pissed off expression.  I still found him incredibly attractive.
	When I tried to swing open the bathroom door something was blocking
it from the other side.  I looked around and saw his damp clothes lying in
a pile.  It was what he wore the whole day before.  Due to the wetness they
kind of smelled.  I began to think about what I should do.  Do I just throw
them in a bag?  What will he wear?  He's shorter and skinner than me so he
probably couldn't get away with wearing anything I had.  But do I wash
them?  Is that weird?
	"Fuck it," I whispered out loud, then threw them in the washer.
	Out of respect I tried not to look at them too much but as I poured
the soap in I noticed that there were a pair of black and blue striped
boxer briefs.  Then it hit me and a perverted smile took over my
understanding.  Unless he was wearing two pairs of underwear, he was
commando in my pajama pants.  I could only imagine.
	After the bathroom I quietly walked back through the kitchen,
through the dining room, and returned to the living room where he slept.
Now he was stretched out on his side.  He held the blanket up to his chin
and his face seem relaxed, no longer frowned up.
	Again I did not know what to do.  It had been more than eight hours
since we fell asleep.  I didn't know if I should wake him up?  Do I let him
sleep in?  If so for how long?
	The pain in my neck hit me again as I looked around at the disorder
of my home.  Right away I remembered something.  I looked at the wall clock
and realized it was 7:25am.  Just at that moment I could hear a chirp from
a familiar car alarm being armed on the street.
	Quietly but quickly, I ran for my bedroom closet and grabbed a
robe.  Then I ran back for the front door.  As I reached for the knob I
heard the key turning the lock.
	"Oh my god, you scared me!"
	"Good morning Yesenia."  I greeted my housekeeper with a flushed
face.
	She noticed something was obviously wrong and took note of the look
on my face as well as how I used my body to block the door.
	"What's going on?"  She asked.
	"Nothing."
	"Really?"
	"Yeah."
	She looked doubtful and attempted to look over my shoulder.
	"Is everything okay?"
	"Of course," I attempted to reassure her.
	She still had a look of disbelief and pure skepticism.
	"I worked late last night..."
	"...uh huh..."
	"...and I just got to bed a little bit ago." I lied.
	"I could come back later after I get done at my second...?"
	"...oh no!  Don't worry about that.  You can skip me today, just
come back tomorrow."
	"You know Javier is going to charge you, you know how he is."
	"It's alright, I won't even tell him if you don't want me to."
	She thought about it for a moment, "I could use the hour break."
	"Awesome."
	"I will come back tomorrow?"  She still seemed doubtful.
	"Yeah, I'm just very tired."
	She responded with one last unconvinced look as she looked back
over my shoulder than back at me.  I knew from her angle that she could not
see where Jimmy lay but it was obvious that she knew someone was inside
with me.
	"Nice parking job," she looked back at my car.
	I remembered the night before.  How quickly I parked when I saw him
sitting in the dark.  Sitting in the rain.
	"Were you drinking?"
	"No!"  I responded immediately.
	"That I believe," she smiled while looking me in the eye.  "Have a
good day Nicky, be good."
	"Bye, thank you."
	I closed the door to hide my shame.
	I turned towards Jimmy and began to say, "Well that was cl..."  But
realized he was still sleeping.
	Somehow through all the talking and noise he did not wake up once.
	Then the pain in my neck came back as I leaned in a weird position
against the door.  I tried to rub it away but it wouldn't relent.  I
figured I would do some yoga then after that wake him up.
	About twenty minutes in during a balancing pose, I could hear him
talking.  I rediscovered my center then grabbed a towel to dry off the
small amount of sweat on my face.
	"I'm at my friends."  I realized he was on his phone by the time I
reached the living room.
	"Nick."
	"I don't know, It was about ten o'clock...No...Yes...I don't
know...Later."
	He had an annoyed look when he realized that I was in the room.
Then he shook his head and rolled his eyes.
	"Mom...hey...mom?  I'll talk to you later...When I get home...Okay
bye."
	I knew his mother didn't like me.  I knew what that conversation
was about.  But I did not resent her for it.  I could imagine how things
would be different for me had I still lived at home.  How hard it would be
explaining all of this to my own mother.  Not that she's a bad person, she
just wouldn't know how to understand this at first.  I'm sure I knew how
Jimmy's mother felt.  I understood why she was so apprehensive when it came
it me.  I was the one after her son's heart, and I hoped he was after mine.
	"I'm sorry," he said.
	"Don't be," I walked over to sit on the couch near him.  "I get
it."
	He looked around again.  "So you like living alone?"
	"Yeah.  It's pretty good.  Sometimes it can be scary.  But I like
it."
	"If I moved out it would be with a few of my friends?  Why do you
live alone?"
	No one ever asked me that before.  Though he and I looked further
apart in age I am only eleven months older than he is.  Maybe he thought it
was weird that I preferred to be alone.
	"You want to know the truth?"
	"Of course," he smiled, "that's why I asked."
	"I don't know why I live alone.  I just like it."
	"Yeah right!"
	"Seriously, I work late, I'm always gone, and I'm kind of a neat
freak.  I don't think I could live with anybody else."
	He looked around the room as there was absolute silence, "Well I
couldn't do it."
	"That's what I thought, but here I am."
	He looked over towards the window then stood up to stretch.
Although my pants were baggy on him, the fact that they were the only
things separating me from him meant that they did not leave everything to
the imagination.  Compounded with the fact that he is nineteen, and just
woke up, I couldn't help but look.  He subconsciously tried to adjust
himself but I think it made it worse.
	Thankfully he did not notice me looking.  He casually walked over
to the window and opened the shades a bit.  As the outside sun shot in
through the slits he winced and shied away from the brightness.
	Something hit the door and made a plop sound.  He slightly jumped.
	"It's the newspaper."
	He looked at me with a smile, "Really?"
	"Yeah why?"
	"Who reads the paper anymore?"
	"I do." I smiled back.
	"Were you working out just now?"
	"Yeah, just some stretches."
	"If you want I can leave."
	"No.  I mean you can stay." I said while folding up my sweat towel.
	"I don't want to overstep..."
	"Definitely not, besides you can't leave now, if you wanted to."
	His brow wrinkled, "Why not?"
	"Don't think this is weird or anything, but I threw your clothes in
the washer."
	He slightly chuckled.
	"But I'm not the maid, in fact I gave her the day off, so you'll
have to throw them in the dryer."
	"Really?"
	"Really."
	"You have a maid?"
	"No not really a maid.  She just comes during the week to clean."
	"Dude, that's a maid."
	"She's a housekeeper."
	"You said maid first."
	"No I didn't" I smiled.
	"You must be loaded." He said while sitting back down.
	I did not respond to that last comment.
	There were a few moments of silence that were broken by the sound
of his stomach growling.
	"Are you hungry?"
	"A little."
	I Smiled, "liar.  I can hear you from here."
	His face turned red.
	"Come on," I nodded towards the kitchen.
	From the back yard you could hear birds chirping.  It sounded like
there was a momentary scuffle that was immediately followed by more
peaceful chirping.
	"Do you eat eggs?"  I asked him.
	"You don't have to cook me breakfast."
	"I cook for myself every morning."
	"Yeah but..."
	"It'll be okay," I said while brushing a few strands of hair out of
his eye.
	This was the first moment of physical contact we shared since he
woke up.  The awkwardness of the moment caught us both by surprise and
ended the argument of whether or not I was going to make him breakfast.
	Thankfully the washer's buzzer sounded.
	He gave me a questioning look.
	"Go ahead, there's dryer sheets on the shelf."
	When he left the room I started to feel something that I had been
pushing aside up until that moment.  My desire was immense but the
intellect in me knew that I was pushing things way too fast.  I knew that
these were not things you do after a first date.  The abnormality of the
situation did not escape me but at the same time I did not want them to
end.
	After a few minutes he returned and sat down on a stool at the bar
that separated my kitchen from the dining room.  When I looked into his
eyes my doubt was pushed aside.
	"Thank you."
	"For what?" I asked while chopping into the first potato.
	"You didn't have to throw them in the washer.  And you don't have
to make me breakfast."
	"Too late." I smiled at him.
	When the food was done I served up two plates of potatoes, eggs,
and sliced apple.  He remained seated at the breakfast bar and I stood on
the other side.
	"Aren't you going to sit?"
	"No I'm fine."
	"Weirdo." He teased.
	"Touché." I nodded before taking a bite of an apple.
	"Thanks again."
	"Don't mention it."
	As we began to eat, the awkward silence was only made more awkward
by the sound of us eating.  I put my finger up as if to say, "Hold on" and
went and grabbed the TV remote.
	"Do you mind?"  I asked.
	"No please."
	We didn't pay much attention to the TV but it was a good noise
distraction and served its purpose of erasing all weirdness.
	"Can I ask you a question?"  He said with a serious look.
	"Of course," I nervously responded.
	"Did you know, that when you chew, whenever you smile and stuff
that you're left eye is smaller than your right eye."
	I became instantly embarrassed but somehow endeared at the same
time.  I playfully frowned and covered my left eye.
	"Yes.  I noticed." I smiled.
	"Oh, it's okay!  I like your crooked eye."
	"Now it's crooked?  I thought you said it was just smaller?"
	He laughed a little bit, "You know what I mean.  I think it's hot."
	Another awkward silence of eating and ignored TV.  My face had
grown red by what he just said.
	"Can I ask you a question now?"
	"Maybe." He looked from the corners of his eyes very skeptical.
	"Did you know that when you smile you look like a hamster?" I said
while giving his cheeks a slight squeeze.
	He laughed out loud, "asshole!" Then pinched my arm.
	"Ow, that one actually hurt," I said with a laugh.
	"Yes!  I know I look like a hamster."
	"Well maybe a gerbil or something."
	"Ha-ha!"
	"It's you though.  I like it.  It's cute." I said returning to some
level of sincerity.
	He looked down and away for just a moment.  He didn't know how to
react to my compliment either.  I thought it was adorable how he shied away
from compliments.
	After we were done eating, I rinsed off the plates and put them in
the dish washer.  We sat around watching TV and shared on some small talk.
When the dryer chimed he got up to get his clothes.
	When I heard the door to the second bedroom close I said, "There's
a lot of gym equipment, you can get dressed in my bedroom if you want."
	"I'm fine."  His voice came muffled through the door.
	I almost forgot what he looked like in normal clothes but when he
emerged wearing the same outfit he wore the day before I was reminded.  I
remembered how sad he looked.  How scared he was when I found him standing
in the rain.  It brought real legitimate pain to my very core to remember
him in such turmoil.  But his slight smile brought me back.
	"I think I should go home soon."
	"That's cool," I lied, "Let me get dressed."
	I was sad that he had to go.  I didn't want him to go.  I knew he
had to.  He just kind of showed up unannounced on my door step at night.  I
was sure there were things he had to get back to.  Teeth to brush, a
routine to catch up with.

	On the drive back to his house I couldn't help but notice how
beautiful the day was.  It was too cold to have the windows all the way
down but the sun was too hot to have them all the way up.  I noticed he was
squinting from the brightness and took off my sunglasses and handed them to
him.
	"You need them more than I do."
	"No it's fine.  Besides with my small weird crooked eye I already
have natural protection."
	He gave a half smile and put them on.  "You're right, my gerbil
cheeks are reflecting the sunlight into my eyes like crazy."
	Half way to this house he crossed his right hand under his left
elbow.  It caught me by surprise when I felt his hand on my right bicep.
The sensations his willful touch sent through my body were amazing.  I was
tickled.
	When we pulled up to his house, however, his mother was outside
wearing a sun hat and holding a handful of weeds in her left hand.
	"Shit."  He said out loud.
	I was silent, but shared in his disappointment.  With her watching
us there would be no way I could give him a proper goodbye.  Not at least
in the way that I wanted to.  One single, albeit beautiful, short kiss was
the only bit of intimacy that we shared.  I wanted to feel his warm lips
again.  I wanted just the smallest taste of him.  But we were not alone.
	"I'm glad you came over."
	He looked at me for a few moments.  "So am I."
	"Text me later?"
	"Of course, "he said while opening the door.
	"Bye Jimmy."
	"Bye...Nick."
	I got out of the car but did not come around.  His mother met him
at the gate and opened it for him.  She was only about ten feet away.
	"Hello," I greeted her with as innocent a smile as I could muster.
	She looked at me, no emotion on her face, "Hi."
	Feeling awkward at the moment I was relieved when Jimmy gave me one
last wave and I could get back in the car.

	On my way home reality struck me.  I actually liked a guy who liked
me back.  At every traffic light I could not help but get lost in thought.
My day dreams and imagination for what the future might hold was endless.
All I could think about was Jimmy.  I already missed his scent, the sound
of his voice.  I already missed his smile.  I missed his face.  I was on
cloud nine.
	I walked in through my front door to the warning of my security
alarm.  After disarming it I listened to the quietness that was my home.
Maybe he was right about the whole living alone thing.  Maybe I should
clean all my exercise equipment out of the spare bedroom and take on a
roommate.  When I thought about everyone I knew, the idea kind of began to
leave a bad taste in my mouth.  Maybe not.
	In the kitchen I chopped up everything I would need for a green
juice.  Over the loud sound of the juicer I could still pretend to hear his
voice coming from the breakfast bar.  I stood and drank my juice in the
same spot where I stood when we ate breakfast.  Staring at an empty stool.
	I wanted to text him.  I wanted to get ahold of him.  I wanted some
part of him around me at all times.  But I did my best to play it cool and
not seem so needy, so desperate.
	I needed to get out of the house, so I changed my clothes and
headed for the gym.
	First I began with some more stretching, careful to keep my face
away from people in hopes of not being noticed.  This last task is
surprisingly easier than you think.  Then I picked up the weights.  I
worked a little bit on all muscle groups until about an hour and a half
later I knew that they had reached their limits for the day.
	The whole time I kept my phone accessible.  I was careful not to
use up the battery which meant no music during my work out.  I ended my
trip to the gym with a thirty minute run on a treadmill.  My legs were
almost too sore to walk by the time I decided to call it a day.  It was
early evening and I had a lot to do the next day so I picked up a salad
from the Gym café and headed home.
	Home was dark and quiet as I ate alone so I turned the TV on again
for back ground noise.  I paid no attention to it as I was on my phone
looking up more images and videos of Jimmy.  It's funny how I used to view
him.  Before the party in New York he was just some little kid from some
movies I've seen.  I didn't realize that we were practically the same age
and never imagined I would want nothing more than to be with him, the man
he is growing in to.
	I took an extra hot shower that night.  The high heat helped soothe
the soreness in my arms and legs.  Before soaping up or anything I just
stood in the hot water thinking about him.  First I put at hand on my
stomach, feeling my abdominals pulse as I bent my body slightly.  I
wondered if he found this attractive.  I wonder if he was into muscles.  I
ran a hand up my stomach to my chest.  My pecs were also hard from the
workout but my nipples were hard from the contact with the water.  The
sensation I gave myself as I ran my fingers over my nipples brought a
perverse smile to my face.  The loud sound of the water rushing drowned out
the sound of my heavy breathing.
	I remembered how he looked that morning.  When he was stretching in
my pajama pants and I could see his hardness through them.  I remember how
it instantly excited me and how thankful I was to still be sitting.
	I continued to rub my chest but with both hands now.  Slowly I slid
one hand down my chest, down my torso, past my abs and grabbed on to my own
hardness.  I slowly began to rub myself but it was too rough.  I grabbed
the bottle of conditioner, the scent not deterring me from my fantasy.
	At first I stared slow, while trying to stand up at the same time.
I could not keep that pace for long however as thoughts of him forced me to
speed up.  The night before, I remembered him taking of his shirt.  Then
his shoes and socks.  I remember him being barefoot and shirtless in the
same room that I was in now.  I remember the look he gave me as he was half
naked.  Those green rain forest eyes locked into mine.
	I took the fantasy further and imagined him taking off his pants,
one leg at a time.  Then I imagined what he would look like in those black
and blue striped boxer briefs.  I tried to picture them wet from the rain
and how you would be able to see everything as they clung to his every
curve.  Front and back.  I imagined the outline from behind as the black
and blue stripes would have clung to his cheeks.  How squeezable and tight
those globes might be.  Then I imagined the front and how he might snake
upwards or even downwards when he got excited.  I imagined him touching
himself through wet underwear.  The look on his face.
	I pumped faster and faster as I could now hear my uneven breathing
even over the water pressure.  The steam in the room made it even harder to
breathe but I could care less as I could perfectly see in my mind how
alluring he would be as he tried to seduce me.
	Then I felt it coming for at least a full minute before it
happened.  My body convulsed in a weird position as shot after shot hit the
shower door and I had to grab a towel bar to hold myself up.  I would have
tried to control the eruption shooting out of me but I had no self-control
at that moment.
	I stood there for a couple of minutes, shaking and trying to
recapture a normal breathing pattern.  With cupped hands, I rinsed down the
door though some washed down and landed between my toes.  I smiled to
myself as I rinsed them off.
	After I got dressed I returned to the bathroom to get my phone.
The room smelled of man fragranced body wash with a slight sprinkle of sex.
Though my gratification was all alone I can definitely work up a sweat.
	When I looked at my screen and refreshed it once or twice, a small
voice began to speak from the back of my mind.  It was almost eight o'clock
and he still had not texted or called.
	I put my phone to charge on my night stand and made sure for the
hundredth time that the volume was all the way up.  I sat up reading and as
nine o'clock rolled around I checked my messages again.  Then at nine
fifteen.  Then thirty after.  I constantly checked my phone all the way up
to ten o'clock.
	At ten pm on the dot my phone chimed.  I was relieved and all of
that growing fear was instantly swept away.  But it wasn't him.
	I went to bed that night, well at least tried to go to bed that
night, without hearing from him at all.

       The next morning my alarm went off and before I could even open my
eyes all the way I was already checking my phone.  Nothing.
	On to my hard boiled eggs then twenty minutes of yoga before my
shower.  At each turn I checked my phone and still found nothing.
	After my morning shower I finally broke down and sent a message,
"good morning."
	I waited impatiently.  Each minute passed slower than the last.
The whole time I got dressed I made sure to keep my phone close to me.  I
sent myself three or four text messages to make sure everything was working
properly.
	Before I left for my script reading I sent another message to
Jimmy, "Is everything okay?"
	By the time I arrived at work, there was still no reply.  I was
able to drop it for a few hours as we went through a script for a movie
that I was going to be in.  Filming started in a couple of weeks and we
were in the middle of our sixth reading at this point.
	While on a break I was able to get away from everyone to check my
phone.  Still no contact.  Still nothing.
	"Jimmy?" I sent another message.  I noticed the screen was starting
to become filled with outgoing messages from me and no response from him.
I decided to put it away and just ignore it to get through the day.
Despite my best effort it still haunted me from the back of my mind.
	The second part of the day's reading went as these things usually
do.  When it was over, after everyone had said their good byes, and I made
it back to my car, I went back to my phone.  Nothing.

	My whole drive home felt extremely distracted.  With how bad the
traffic was I was happy to make it home without incident.  But now my fear
was beginning to consume my thoughts.  I knew it was past time to admit
that this wasn't normal and that maybe despite my best efforts to turn my
dreams into reality, I had failed.
	It was time to admit that maybe he was very uncomfortable with what
we were getting involved with.  He was uncomfortable with me.  My
insecurities put my thoughts into a tail spin and I could not think of
anything else.
	I had to force myself to put my phone on the table and leave it
there.  This still didn't help my anguish all that much but constantly
refreshing my message screen and pretending that there must be a technical
issue preventing him from contacting me wasn't healthy either.
	After an hour I picked up my phone and sent a message to someone
else, "Peter?"
	A few minutes later, "Hey Nick, how's it going?"
	"Good, and you?" I lied.
	"Pretty good, just leaving work."
	"Are you busy tonight?"
	"No, not really what's up?"
	"Can you stop by?"
	"What's up?"
	"Nothing really, I just need someone to talk to."
	"Then yes, are you still living in the same place?"
	"Same place."
	"I'll be there in about half an hour."

	"So what did you want to talk about?" Peter asked as he sat down on
the couch.
	"I don't know.  It's kind of a hard thing really."
	"I won't judge."
	"Well really I just want to ask you a question."
	"Go ahead, ask away."
	I bit my lip for a moment, too scared to even think the words let
alone allow them to leave my mouth.
	"How did you..."
	I stopped for a moment.  I knew that this was a point I could not
return from.  I knew that once this came out there would be no way of
putting it back in.
	"Nick what's wrong?" Peter tilted his head to the side, with a
concerned look on his face.
	"How did you know you were gay?"
	His small look of shock caught me by surprise.
	"Oh. That."
	I did not say anything, I just looked to him waiting for an answer.
	"Well I was six years old..."
	"Wait. You were six?  Really?"
	"You asked!" He laughed.
	"Well anyway, I was in kindergarten and on the first day the
teacher told us we could sit wherever we wanted.  I chose my seat because I
wanted to sit next to the cute boy."
	"But you couldn't have known..."
	Peter laughed again, "Yeah you're telling me, he was cute when we
were five but it's true that cute kids make ugly adults."
	"You still talk to him?"
	"No!  God no, we're just Facebook friends.  He got married young,
already has kids."
	I paused for a moment and took a drink of water out of my glass.
	"But when did you really know.  For real.  That nothing was going
to be the same?"
	Peter looked off to the side.  I could tell that I hit a nerve.
	"Well.  I was fifteen.  I was completely in love with my best
friend.  We had done things."
	"Really?"
	"Yes.  I wanted to tell him for weeks how I felt.  We pretty much
did everything but kiss."
	"What do you mean everything?"
	"You know, I don't need to say it."
	The thought was weird to me.  Going all the way but not even
sharing a simple kiss.
	"Kissing is the hard part Nick.  It's not like getting off with a
warm body you know.  You actually have to face the person your with.  You
actually have to be with them and not just in the same room as them."
	"So this is how you two found out you were gay?"
	"No sweetie, this is how I found out I was gay, and just how bad
love hurts."
	"What do you mean?"
	Peter shifted in his seat as he took a drink from his own glass.
	"I told him everything.  I told him I loved him.  I told him I
wanted to kiss him.  Then the only way he could find to express his
emotions was to ball up his fist and knock the wind out of me."
	I did not say anything right away.  I was already in a world of
turmoil.  I was grateful that at least I did not have Peter's experience.
At least Jimmy didn't hit me.  Heartbroken yes, but punched in the stomach,
definitely not.
	"Then what happened?"  I asked.
	"Nothing.  I cried in my room for a few days.  Then I just moved
on.  And here I am."
	We sat in silence for a few moments.  The sound of the TV on low
was the only noise.
	"What about you Nick?"
	"What about me?"
	"When did you realize you were...?"
	"I'm not!"
	He gave me a solvent look, "Really?"
	"I don't think so."
	He took a drink from his glass, "Do you like girls Nick?"
	"Maybe."
	"Do you like boys?"
	The question hung in the air, but it still sealed my fate.
	"Yes." I barely whispered.
	"Do you like girls?"
	"No." I whispered again.
	"Then this is your moment."
	Although I trembled I managed to look at him with confusion in my
eyes.
	"This is the moment you realized that you were gay."
	That word gave me goosebumps.  The fear of it all was almost
overwhelming.  To hear another human being use that word in reference to me
was a huge thing.  But Peter was right.  I couldn't deny it anymore, at
least not with him.
	"I don't know what to do."  I said.
	"Does anyone ever?"
	"But people expect a lot from me."
	"Fuck them.  You don't owe anybody a god damn thing."
	I looked up at him not knowing what to say.  What to do.  What to
think.
	"You're an actor Nick.  You have the luxury of only letting people
see the things you want them to.  Everything else is no one's business but
yours and..."
	"And..."
	"No never mind it's none of my business."
	"What were you going to say next?"
	He hesitated a moment looking at the TV.
	"That guy you were with, Jimmy, is he..."
	"I wanted him to be."  I said with sorrow and disappointment in my
voice.
	"Ah it all makes sense now."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Boys will do anything when they are in love, including risk outing
themselves."
	We both looked down at our drinks.
	"I feel embarrassed," I said.
	"That's normal.  We come into this life naked, kicking, and
screaming, embarrassment is what keeps us from going out that same way."
	After a while we ended our therapeutic conversation with a tight
hug.  I enjoyed Peter's company, and in the world I lived in, true friends
were very hard to come by.
	As an ode to self-torture, I pulled my phone out for one last
refresh of the day.  Nothing.
	Before I set the security alarm I made sure all the doors were
locked.  At the front door I couldn't help myself.  I looked through the
window to my front stairs.  I remembered him sitting there in the cold
rain.  I remember how quickly I was consumed with the need to protect him
from the elements.  I remember the look of confusion on his face when it
was obvious that he was being torn in two.
	The spare bedroom's light was on and when I went in to shut it off
I took another hit.  I wiped away a single tear forming at sight of my
weight bench.  There was a t-shirt and pajama pants that had been folded
neatly and left there.  I picked them up with both hands and lifted them to
my nose.  They still smelled like him and as I inhaled I could see the
green rainforest, peering into my fears, my dreams.
	I wanted to be mad at him.  I wanted to hate him.
	Yesenia had been there during the day when I was gone.  She rarely
missed anything but I was glad she missed the clothes and the folded
blanket on the couch.
	I changed into something to sleep in and unfolded the blanket.  I
lay on the couch flipping through channels and then on demand, then
Netflix, then Hulu, then nothing.  I stretched out remembering the moments
that we shared two nights before.  I lifted a hand to where his head once
lay and rested it there.
	I imagined him back with me, laying down.  I imagined holding him
from behind.  Our feet would be intertwined.  My chin would be resting on
the top of his head.  I imagined how his heart beat would feel, how his
breathing would sound.  I imagined his scent.  I imagined what it would be
like to have his love.
	I wanted to hate him for making me feel like that.  I wanted to
loathe him and his venomous actions for the price I was paying.  But he
didn't owe me a god damn thing.
	I knew he was going through his own hardship.  His own personal
hell.  I knew I was the reason he was so fucked up.  I was the reason he
unburied a truth he worked very hard to escape from.
	I was doubtful that Jimmy and I would ever be anything.  I
succumbed to the obvious fact that we would never be together.  Not even as
friends.  But I was able to find one small comfort.  One part of it all
that told me how he felt.  Jimmy did think about me.  He did care about me.
Peter did say, "Boys will do anything when they are in love, including risk
outing themselves."

...to be continued...

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