Tipping the Balance (22 page)

Drew raised his hand to cup Brad behind his head. Drew’s touch made Brad shiver with all the wants he felt but couldn’t name. He relaxed back into Drew’s touch, his scalp ultrasensitive under Drew’s hand.

Then—

Brad froze.

Up until now, Drew had let Brad take the lead, but when he felt Drew’s tongue dart against his lips for a moment….

Drew pulled back. “I’m sorry—”

“That was—”

“I know, I shouldn’t have—”

“Shut up, will ya?” Brad said. He attacked Drew’s mouth with renewed vigor, tongue dueling tongue, sliding back and forth across sensitive, kiss-swollen lips, each stroke sending them higher. When Drew opened for him in surrender, taking his tongue in, Brad all but lost it, almost creaming his shorts right there.

He pushed Drew back on the sofa, the two of them sliding down until Brad had Drew pinned. He looked down at Drew, a big grin on his face. “Now this I like.”

“Yeah, I’m helpless under you, you brute. What’re you going to do with me?” Drew breathed, running his hands up and down Brad’s broad, muscular back.

“This, I think,” Brad said, angling in for more kissing.

Then Drew’s hips started thrusting, and Brad felt another man’s hard member pressing into him. Even with layers of fabric between them, that was all it could’ve been. A man’s cock, a gay man’s cock—

Brad froze for a moment, skeeved out and hornier than he’d ever been in his life.

He thrust back against Drew, groaning with the need of it. Hell yes, this was what he wanted, what he had to have. Drew was hard for him. He was hot for Drew. It was a perfect world.

I could make him come
, Brad thought fleetingly. The knowledge rocked him as hard as he rocked against Drew’s hips, thinking of hands and cocks and mouths and…. His balls pulled tight against his body. The power was heady and awesome and pushed him closer and closer….

Brad pulled back, gasping for air.

“What’s wrong?” Drew said, frowning at the withdrawal of contact.

“I don’t know? This? I mean, I’m totally into you, into this, but it’s just….”

“I know,” Drew said, gazing into Brad’s eyes. He smiled as his breathing slowly calmed. “Baby steps.”

“Yeah, baby steps,” Brad whispered, suddenly embarrassed. He rested his forehead on Drew’s.

“Regrets?” Drew said, his heart in his eyes.

“No,” Brad croaked, his voice cracking. “It’s just that… this morning I was straight and right now I almost got off on a man. With a man, I mean.”

“That doesn’t have to mean you’re gay, you know,” Drew said. “A lot of guys experiment. That doesn’t make you gay.”

“No, listen. You don’t understand. This isn’t an experiment. I came over here because of you, for you,” Brad said, his voice rising.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Drew said, still pinned beneath Brad.

“No, you don’t,” Brad said, almost yelling. He forced himself to calm down. “You don’t, Drew. If you did, you’d know what you do to me, what you’ve been doing to me, ever since you first smiled at me at that regatta this spring. You’d know why I can’t get you out of my head, and,” he said softly, raising his head to look in Drew’s eyes, “I don’t want to.”

“Then help me understand,” Drew whispered, stroking Brad’s back.

“I can’t. I don’t understand it myself. I just know….” Brad paused. “I know this isn’t an experiment. You opened my eyes or changed me or something. Can’t put the genie back in the bottle.”

“Are you gay?”

“I… yes,” Brad said. “No? I don’t know,” he groaned. “Do I have to have an answer?”

“No.” Drew shook his head. “So where do we go from here?” Drew said. He wiped a tear from Brad’s cheek with his thumb.

“I don’t know,” Brad whispered, “but I want to find out.”

Drew
and Brad spent the rest of that Sunday exploring their new… whatever it was. Drew didn’t delude himself into thinking it was a relationship. But they were more than friends, that much was clear. He knew there’d be a backlash, too, that the rubber band would snap back as the no-longer-straight Brad suffered the inevitable freak-out after spending an afternoon rolling around on the sofa with him. It was so much easier, Drew reflected, coming out early in life. The longer you waited, the harder it was.

Drew wasn’t sure what to make of Brad’s wanting to spend lots of time together in the evenings. New relationship? Escaping paternal influence? While it was Wednesday afternoon and he hadn’t yet heard from Brad that day, they were already two for three this week. He told himself just to enjoy the ride, even if he had no idea where they were headed. But he knew where he wanted them to go.

Drew glanced at the clock on his desk. 4:32. He should just go home. He was done at the office, and he was the last one there. If he left, then the admin, Serena, could switch everything over to the answering service and pick her son up from daycare early.

Then his phone vibrated.
Free 2nite?
the text read.

Drew smiled. Like he’d be anything else for Brad.
Heading home now. See U there?

As soon as I’m done at Graveyard, I’ve got the oversight committee. After that?
Brad replied.

I’ll have food waiting for you
, Drew wrote back, thinking about the way to a man’s heart.

You’re the best. L8r
, Brad sent.

“Hey, Serena! Let’s get out of here!” Drew called as he shoved files in his messenger bag. He just couldn’t take the office any longer.

Drew
fixed himself a snack when he got home before showering and then cooking a real meal. He wasn’t sure how much Brad would want to eat that late, but he could always live off the leftovers for a day or two if Brad didn’t eat anything.

Then he occupied himself with work. He’d landed three new sets of clients that morning, two selling and one buying, and market research awaited him. He doubted he’d get much done, but he had to do something and had too much work to do to justify watching television.

Brad’s unmistakable pounding on the door jarred him out of his search for what houses comparable to his two new would-be sellers had sold for recently. That the county tax assessor’s records were now online was a boon to him but held nothing but bad news for anyone trying to sell a home.

Drew glanced at his watch as he bounded to the door, now re-invigorated after a long day. It was almost 9:00 p.m., and he’d been in front of his computer for close to two very productive hours.

Drew opened the door. “Hey, I’m glad you made it.”

Brad pushed in and shut the door behind him. “Of course I made it. Why wouldn’t I?” He looked at Drew for a moment with a shy smile.

“Hug?” Drew said, opening his arms.

Brad returned the hug awkwardly, relaxing into it after a moment’s hesitation. It was obvious to Drew that Brad still struggled with his attraction for him. Drew allowed himself to savor the feeling of the other man’s arms around him for a moment before releasing him.

“So how was your day?” Drew asked, pulling Brad along to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“I should be, but no,” Brad said, making a face. “I’m sorry. I know you made something, but between eating because I’m bored out there at Suburban Graveyard and a snack at the oversight committee, I don’t have much appetite.”

“Then I’ll just get us something to drink, and you can tell me about your day,” Drew said. He was struck by the incongruity of their situation. He wasn’t even sure they were dating, but already they were falling into some kind of
Leave It to Beaver
-like pattern. So long as neither of them took it too seriously, it seemed harmless.

When he joined Brad in the family room on what had in three short days become their customary sofa, he saw that Brad had arrived at a similar conclusion. Brad reached for his glass of fizzy water with a smile. “Ah, the little woman. Where’s my pipe?”

Drew’s glare had stopped rogue drag queens cold, and it would’ve taken a stronger man than Brad not to flinch. “Uh… sorry.”

“I hope you got that out of your system,” Drew said in a low voice.

“It was just a joke,” Brad said, hunching his shoulders defensively.

Drew sat down next to Brad, turning to face him, one leg curled up under him. “Really? Where I come from, those’re usually funny.” Then he smiled to take the sting out of it.

“Thanks,” Brad said, taking the water. He met Drew’s eyes but couldn’t hold his gaze long.

“So,” Drew said, “the committee meeting?”

“It’s actually kind of interesting,” Brad confessed. “When Pete Rancilman contacted me, he made it sound like the whole committee was at his back with torches and pitchforks or something and all of them out to get Nick.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Drew said.

Brad scratched his head absently. “The funny thing is, I think it might just be Pete.”

“No kidding?” Drew said.

“Don’t get me wrong, people are concerned about the ‘Nick Situation’,” Brad said, setting the words off with air quotes, “but Pete’s the one who seems like he’s out for Nick’s balls.”

“I’m sure Morgan will have something to say about that,” Drew snorted.

“You don’t know the half of it. I mean, the guy’s going on about Coach Bedford preying on innocent undergrads… clearly he’s never met Morgan,” Brad said, setting down his empty glass.

“So how many hours did you have to spend listening to this guy’s witch hunt?” Drew said.

“Not that long, thankfully. Everyone else was buzzing about how many people have already indicated an interest in crew,” Brad said, inching close to Drew. “Even assuming half of those people ever show up in the first place, and half of them can hack it, it’s still a huge increase.”

Drew pretended not to notice. “Is this because of your big win this spring?”

“That’d be my guess. What this means for the oversight committee is coming up with the money for an assistant coach or two. Wonder who they’ll find for that chore?” Brad said.

“It’s not much fun?” Drew said.

Brad shook his head. “Think about it—you get to wake up dark and early, ride around in a launch when it’s freezing cold in the morning or boiling hot in the afternoon, depending on the season, but you’re the assistant, not the coach, so—”