Something Like Spring (57 page)

“Just as beautiful as I remembered,” Caesar said. “Unless… No, that can’t be possible.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“Unless you’ve become even more handsome since we last met.”

Jason laughed. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“It’s working,” Caesar said, nodding at the bulge in Jason’s underwear.

“That?” Jason said. “That’s just a sock I shove in my pants before every date. You’re going to be very disappointed.”

“I don’t think I will,” Caesar said, getting to his knees.

The last remaining item of clothing he removed with his teeth. Now Jason was nude while Caesar was still fully dressed. This made him feel vulnerable, like this was a prank and photographers would come barging into the room any second. Of course if they did, Caesar would be incriminated too, considering what he was doing with his mouth. Jason ran his fingers through Caesar’s hair, moaning gently as he closed his eyes.

The hair wasn’t right. William’s had never grown so long, and always felt a little dry and fluffy from all the chlorine. Jason’s brow furrowed. He opened his eyes and forced himself to look down. He wasn’t with William. He knew that. He was with someone else he loved, or had loved, and that was good enough—had to be or he’d never move on. William was gone and had been for years. Caesar was here, right now, and he needed to accept that, enjoy it, embrace it. No more longing for the hero who had ridden off into the sunset so long ago. Time to move on.

Jason reached down, grabbed Caesar’s wrist and pulled upward. Caesar took the cue and stood. Jason wasn’t as patient with him, or as gentle. After fumbling too long with the first button of the dress shirt, he tore the shirt open. That chest was familiar. The hair was thicker, the muscles a little softer than they once were, but Caesar’s body was still comfortably the same. Jason had tried dating occasionally in the last two years and had slept with even fewer guys. Those he did have sex with weren’t comfortable like this. Instead they were strangers in their appearance and habits and how they tasted and smelled. Usually Jason went home afterwards wishing for William. Maybe he should have been thinking of Caesar instead, since he was equally familiar.

Jason pressed his lips against the warm skin of Caesar’s neck while fumbling at his pants, licking and kissing his way down once he had them open. Caesar had obviously missed him just as much. He still talked all the time too, a million wishes and desires on his breath.

“With your hand, yeah. No, slide it. A little bit of teeth. Ungh. Exactly! Reach your free hand up here, touch my chest.”

Caesar had always been this way, but now Jason could barely keep up. “Do you want me to cook you dinner while I’m at it?”

“That would be nice,” Caesar said, filling Jason’s mouth again.

Eventually, he had another request, but this one Caesar didn’t verbalize. After helping Jason to his feet and then onto the bed, he reached for the side table and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. The arrogant grin on his face was almost enough to make Jason hold his tongue, but when Caesar started putting the condom on himself, he felt the need to speak up.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” Jason said pointedly. “We were never very compatible in that way.”

“That’s not what I remember,” Caesar said. “The hunting cabin?”

Jason swallowed. “That was a special occasion.” More like one of the most emotionally raw moments of his life.

“And this isn’t?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t know what this is.”

Caesar studied him for a moment. Then he laughed. “I forgot how complicated you are.” He made like he was going to take off the condom before hesitating. “Can I at least stick it in your ear?”

“It’s about the right size,” Jason teased.

Caesar feigned offense as he pulled the condom off. “You are
so
lucky you won’t feel just how big my dick is! I wasn’t planning on being gentle.”

“That’s exactly why I chickened out,” Jason lied.

Caesar crawled on top of Jason, rubbing his cock against his stomach. Jason reached down and took hold of it. Caesar brought his face near, looking him deep in the eye, even when they kissed. Jason began to believe that maybe Caesar did regret the choice he made all those years ago, that when Nathaniel broke his heart, Caesar had looked to the past and known he’d chosen the wrong guy. He certainly seemed desperate to prove himself. Caesar scooted down, did things with his mouth that Jason had nearly forgotten about.

Thirty minutes of his kisses, his stares, his pumping hand, exploring tongue, and welcoming mouth, was all it took for Jason to forgive him. Seven years paid off in half an hour. Hail Caesar!

If emotions were something tangible—a part of the physical world—they would constantly change color and size and shape, never recognizable from one moment to the next. Jason returned home the next morning surrounded not by violet-tinged clouds of love from the night before. Instead shadows seemed to hound him, slipping into his mouth and down his throat, filling his stomach with dread.

“What have I done?” he asked himself rhetorically. He got an answer anyway.

“Murdered someone?” Emma guessed. “Held up a convenience store? Or gee, maybe you slept with an ex and are having second thoughts.”

He made a pouty face, so Emma grabbed a pillow from behind Tim’s head and used it to thwack Jason.

“Don’t you two have rooms of your own?” Tim asked, rubbing the back of his noggin where it had hit the headboard. “Or beds of your own, for that matter.”

They did, but on a lazy Sunday morning like this when Ben and Tim themselves couldn’t be bothered to leave their room, the social activity of breakfast usually reconvened in their bed, which was certainly large enough to fit them all. Ben was sitting up where he usually slept, a pair of dark-framed glasses on his nose that had no prescription strength or magnification. Ben simply thought they looked cool. As he lazily thumbed through a magazine, Jason had to admit they did. Next to him, Tim sketched out rough ideas on an iPad, using his finger instead of a stylus or paint brush. Chinchilla lay against his side. Jason—at the end of the bed—would sometimes reach out to stroke her. The last available space on Ben’s side was occupied by Emma, sitting cross-legged as she happily thwacked Jason again with the pillow.

He supposed it was an odd sight, an unusual family gathering at a strange place, all of them dressed in pajamas. Well, except for Chinchilla, of course. And maybe Tim, since his Terminator scars were in full view, but presumably he had something on beneath the blanket.

“No pillow fights this morning,” Ben said, raising an eyebrow until Emma returned Tim’s pillow. Then Ben gave his attention to Jason. “Whatever it was that happened between you and Caesar last night, why would you regret it?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “It felt really good—being around him again, I mean—and also very wrong.”

“Guilty sex is the best sex,” Tim said with a smirk.

“I didn’t feel guilty at the time,” Jason said. “I’m not even sure why I do now. Maybe I’m betraying myself by going back to him. Does that make sense?”

“Nope,” Emma said. “Uncle Ben, did you feel that way when you got back together with Tim?”

“Which time?” Ben asked with a chuckle. “I suppose the one most similar to your situation happened when I was in college. I was definitely excited to see Tim again, and a little horrified, and then really really happy. The guilt came afterwards. But I was with Jace at the time. If I hadn’t been, I don’t think I would have felt any remorse. I still would have felt hurt about the way we originally broke up, but we talked through it.”

“Did you try that?” Tim asked. “You’ve got to tackle any unresolved issues.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah. We covered the important things.”

“Then you shouldn’t feel guilty,” Ben said. “Or is there someone else you like?”

William. Jason tugged at a loose thread on the comforter. Admitting he still liked someone who had said goodbye to him four years ago was too embarrassing. Instead he mentioned the other issue at hand. “I’m worried about making the same mistakes. Or more like, I’m worried Caesar will make the same mistakes with me.”

“Ah,” Ben said.

Tim glanced over at him. “What do you mean
ah
? I don’t like the way that sounds.”

Ben set aside his magazine. “Caesar broke his heart once before, and it takes a long time to get over something like that. Naturally Jason is worried about you, I mean him—”

“Freudian slip!” Tim said, looking aghast. “You’re worried I’ll break your heart again?”

“No, not
now
,” Ben said. “But when we first met again in college, yes. Past all the confusion of still having feelings for you and loving Jace at the same time, I was scared of getting hurt again.”

Tim frowned. “Now I feel like shit.”

“You shouldn’t,” Ben said. “After all this time, you really shouldn’t.”

“So what’s the verdict?” Emma asked. “Should Jason keep seeing the guy with one strike against him, or should he look for someone with a clean record?”

“That’s something he has to decide,” Ben said. “We don’t know Caesar, so it isn’t fair for us to debate his worth.”

“I wish you guys could meet him,” Jason said. “He wants to see me again today.”

Emma perked up. “Then let’s take him to the gay youth group,” she said. “The one taking place
tonight
.”

“Meetings aren’t on a Sunday afternoon anymore?” Ben asked.

“Not these days,” Emma lied.

“Aren’t Jason and this other guy too old to go?” Tim asked.

“They can go as my legal guardians,” Emma said.

“Right.” Ben picked up his magazine. “If you get caught using your fake ID, I know nothing about it.”

“And no drinking,” Tim said. “If you come home drunk, Emma, I’ll drive you straight home to Houston and hand you over to your father.”

“I liked it better when you and my dad were enemies,” Emma pouted.

“Be safe,” Ben said. “Both of you.”

Jason promised they would, although when it came to his heart, he knew there was no guarantee.

* * * * *

Jason waited outside the bar with Emma, both of them feeling nervous for very different reasons. Emma kept glancing down at her fake ID, insisting on seeing his so she could compare them. Jason had other issues on his mind. He felt strange standing here, just a few yards away from where he had first seen Ryan that night. Jason half expected to see him there now, even though he knew Ryan was behind bars and would remain there for a very long time.

The more pressing concern was Caesar. Jason kept wondering if yesterday had been a nostalgia-powered fluke and nothing more. Maybe he wouldn’t find Caesar alluring at all. That would conveniently end his heart’s confusion. But when Caesar arrived wearing a suit the same dark hue as his hair, the light material hugging his frame, Jason practically sighed. If this was the sort of clothing Caesar wore on business, small wonder he’d landed in an affair.

“Wow,” Emma said when Jason pointed him out. “Good idea or not, I think you’re going to have fun.”

“Maybe.” The nice thing about living with Tim was how routine a good-looking guy had become. Jason liked to think he’d built up an immunity. He proved this to himself when Caesar tried to kiss him and Jason pretended not to notice, making quick introductions. Then he turned and headed for the bar door.

“Let me go first,” Emma whispered. “If you guys get in and I don’t, I’ll be all by myself out here.”

“Fake ID,” Jason whispered for Caesar’s benefit.

“Ah.”

The bouncer at the door didn’t seem too interested in them. He glanced at Emma’s ID and was about to hand it back when he did a double-take and began to scrutinize it. “Do you have a driver’s license I can see?” he asked.

“No,” Emma said. “I have a fear of driving. Got run over by a taxi when I was a kid. Barely survived. Left me traumatized.”

The bouncer handed back the ID and started to shake his head when Caesar shoved his identification under the man’s nose, a fifty dollar bill not-so-casually sticking out from beneath it.

“Here’s mine,” Caesar said with a smile.

The bouncer took the ID and the money, glanced around before pocketing the fifty, and nodded for them to enter. Before they could, he offered Emma some words of wisdom. “Better not try your luck with the bartender. He has a lot more to lose.”

“No problem!” Emma said. As soon as they were inside, she grabbed Caesar’s arm. “Oh, I like you! Care to dance?”

“I’d be honored,” Caesar said as he was dragged away. “You coming, Jason?”

“Nah, I’ll find us a table.”

All of this had been planned, of course. Emma felt she could get a better read on Caesar if they were alone, and that the answers to her questions might be more honest or direct without Jason there. Feeling mildly uncomfortable as he always did in this environment, Jason navigated his way past groups of giggling guys and more serious soloists on the prowl, not making eye contact with any of them until he found a table. Then he waited, feeling more awkward without a drink to make himself look busy. A guy came up to him and made small talk, Jason responding with just enough not to be rude but also little enough to communicate his lack of interest.

Finally, Emma returned with a happy expression. Caesar followed behind her, jacket over one shoulder.

“Thumbs up from me,” she murmured. Then she spun around. “I’m going to get us all drinks. By which I mean I’m going to where all those fine lesbians are sitting and will probably remain there until you two drag me kicking and screaming from this place.”

Jason waved a hand as if dismissing her, but Emma didn’t notice, already on her way to a world full of new possibilities.

“Want me to get us some drinks?” Caesar asked.

“No, I’m fine. Unless you need to rehydrate.”

“Not just yet.” Caesar sat at the table across from him. “That girl sure can dance!”

“Yes,” Jason said. “Yes, she can.”

“And talk. She was gabbing the whole time. Must have a real set of lungs on her.” Caesar grabbed a cocktail napkin and patted his forehead dry. “She wants me to be honest with you.”