

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About the Author
Also by Andrew Grey
Contemporary Romance by Andrew Grey
Copyright

The plane landed, taxiing to the terminal as Steven peered out the window at the concrete, grass, and terminal buildings that looked so familiar and yet so different. He'd never thought he'd be returning to the Harrisburg area to live, not after all these years, but fate must have had a sense of humor and the old bitch was certainly laughing now. Pulling up to the gate, the whine of the small plane's engines seemed to lower and then die away, replaced by the sound of air rushing through the ventilation systems. Steven stood up and pulled down his carry-on, waiting for the doors to open so he could exit. Taking his turn, he descended the stairs and walked across the tarmac and into the terminal. At least this was new and different, not like the old airport where he'd gotten on a plane after he'd graduated from high school and never looked back. And he'd been grateful, until now, fifteen years later, that he'd never been back, either.
Walking through the terminal toward the baggage claim, Steven stopped in the men's room. Passing by the mirrors at the sinks, he half expected to see the kid he'd been when he'd gotten on that first flight to take him away for his first semester of college, but "Blobby Bobby" was gone, never to return. He'd even stopped going by his first name altogether. Years ago, after he lost all that weight, he'd started using his middle name in an effort to truly change his life. Washing his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror again, wondering just why coming back here was so hard for him. He hadn't seen nor talked to his folks since he'd left for college. His father, the minister, preferred it that way, and after all this time, it didn't really matter. Taking a deep breath, Steven smiled, almost laughing. He was being completely silly. No one would recognize him, and he was making a big deal over nothing. A lot had changed in fifteen years, and it wasn't as though anyone would remember him.
Finishing in the bathroom, Steven strode out of the gate area and onto the escalators, riding down to baggage claim, where he picked up his suitcases. He walked to the Hertz counter to get the keys to his reserved rental car, and soon he was outside in the warm spring afternoon. Loading his bags in the trunk, Steven got in the car and started driving toward town, arriving at his hotel an hour later.
Checking in and unpacking didn't take long, and Steven found himself at loose ends on a Saturday afternoon. Picking up the phone book, he thumbed through the yellow pages, looking for a health club nearby. That was a great way to spend a few hours and maybe work away the blah feelings he kept having. Seeing that there was one nearby, Steven opened his suitcases and repacked his carry-on for the gym before heading out.
Walking through the doors felt comfortable. Even though he'd never been there before, the place sounded and felt like a gym, with the clang of weights and the sounds of music, talking, and the hum of treadmills.
"Can I help you?" the big-eyed blonde girl behind the desk asked cheerfully, her smile growing as he saw her look him over. Girls always seemed to, which was fine with him---not that he was interested, but it was always a nice compliment.
"I'm moving to the area and wanted to check out the club," Steven answered, looking around the building. This had to be one of the newest and cleanest health clubs he'd seen; everything from the floors to the desk seemed to shine.
"Let me get you with one of our salesmen. He can give you a tour and set you up with a guest pass." Picking up the phone, she made a call, and a large, well-built man walked to the desk.
"Are you Steven?" The man asked, offering his hand. Steven knew there was something familiar about him. "I'm Lane Parkinson. Come on over to the desk, and I can get you set up."
Steven nearly dropped his bag in surprise, but managed to hold on to it, smiling since Lane didn't recognize him. Not that Lane had ever paid much attention to him other than to pick on him all through high school. If he remembered correctly, it was Lane who'd originally coined the nickname "Blobby Bobby," along with a number of others that Steven didn't want to remember. Still smiling, he followed Lane to a desk and sat in one of the chairs. "I'm just interested in trying out the club for now," Steven explained.
Lane gave him a basic rundown on the prices of memberships and the specials they were running before taking him on a tour of the club. "Stop by my desk before you leave, and I'll set you up with a two-week pass," Lane told him before walking out of the locker room and leaving Steven to change. Checking the lockers, Steven found an empty one and began to change as people moved around him.
"Fruitbag," a voice zinged over the wall, and Steven looked around, wondering where that was coming from. "Are you and Gene going to dinner, or are you gonna be a prick all your life?"
Steven relaxed when he realized the comment wasn't directed at him.
"I'll ask him, but you really know how to issue a sweet invitation, Lonnie," the man changing next to him answered, and things got quiet until a naked man walked around the lockers and up to the man next to him. "I'll be nice to you and let you suck my love hammer." Steven could barely believe what he was hearing and jumped when he heard a smack and saw this Lonnie guy flinch, rubbing his butt. "Hey, what was that for?"
"You're being an ass," the man next to him said with a grin. "Besides, you liked it, you pervert," he added with a smile as the naked guy walked back around the lockers, and Steven continued to change, wondering what kind of place this was.
"Don't pay any attention to him," the guy next to him explained. "He's a complete pig who didn't get the gene that censors speech. I'm Dan, by the way, and the loudmouth is Lonnie. He's harmless except for his mouth." Steven slipped off his shirt before pulling on a T-shirt and changing into his workout shorts. "Are you new to the club?" Dan asked as he finished dressing.
"Yeah. I just got into town for a new job and thought I'd check out the place."
Lonnie poked his head around the corner. "Work out with us, then," he offered. Steven wasn't too sure about that, but Dan seemed nice, and Steven agreed before giving it too much thought. Working out was better with a partner, so he figured it couldn't hurt.
"If you're sure---" Steven started to say, but Lonnie interrupted.
"Of course." His head disappeared, and Steven heard shuffling from behind the wall of lockers. "You ready?" Lonnie's voice drifted over. Steven tied his shoes and grabbed his workout gloves before closing his locker, following Dan out of the locker room.
Lonnie had already scoped out one of the bench presses and had loaded a single plate on each end of the bar. Seeing them approach, he held out his hand to Steven. "I'm Lonnie."
"Steven," he said, shaking the offered hand.
"So, are you a butt pirate like Dan here?" Lonnie asked with a huge grin that lasted until Dan swatted at him. "What? I was just asking," Lonnie said with a laugh as he lay down on the bench before lifting the bar and pounding out a quick set. Dan looked a little uncomfortable, and Steven said nothing as Dan did his set. Then he took his turn, easily doing fifteen reps. "So are you?"
"What?" Steven retorted, rolling his eyes. "Are you afraid for your virtue?"
Dan hooted as he added a quarter to each end of the bar. "Lonnie doesn't have any virtue left to lose," Dan chided, and then it was his turn to jump back from a good-natured swipe. Amazingly, Steven felt himself relaxing. When it was his turn, he pounded out a set of ten before he and Dan stripped off the twenty-five-pound weights and added a second set of plates.
"How are you doing?" Steven saw Lane standing off to the side. "I see you've met Lonnie and Dan." Steven nodded, and another man joined them. Steven couldn't help staring a little. This guy was huge and sexy as hell. When he walked to Dan, slipping an arm around his waist, Steven felt a twinge of disappointment.
"Steven, this is my partner, Gene," Dan said, introducing him before turning to Gene. "This is Steven. He's trying out the club."
"It's nice to meet you," Gene told him, shaking his hand.
"So, what do you think of the club?" Lane asked from behind him.
"It's very nice," Steven answered, watching as Lonnie did his set and inwardly smiling at Lane as he saw Lane's eyes dart down his body. When it was his turn, Steven did his set, pushing out a set of ten, with Gene stepping behind to give him a spot, helping him slightly on the last rep as the others talked. Getting up, he saw Lane looking at him, arms folded across his chest, pushing the muscle forward, biceps straining his shirt. The man was handsome---hell, the man was freakin' hot. Normally, when he was being looked at like that, Steven would have said something, but he held back, reminding himself who this guy was, but he still couldn't stop himself from looking.
Adding more weight to the bar, they took turns once again. "Stop by my desk when you're done," Lane told him with a smile just before his turn came, and Steven watched him walk away.
"It's your turn," Dan told him, and Steven noticed that Gene had left the group to continue his workout. Performing his set, Dan spotted him, and after six reps, he clinked the weight back into the rack. Sitting up, Steven took a few deep breaths, his chest pulsing with blood from the exercise.
"It looks like someone is interested in you," Dan told him, keeping his voice low. "If you're not interested, that's cool, but I thought I saw you looking at him too."
Steven looked at Dan for a second, trying to size the guy up. "He's attractive," Steven told him cautiously, "but I knew him in high school. He obviously doesn't know who I am."
"Why wouldn't he? You gave him your name when you met with him. You'd think he'd remember."
Steven shook his head, wondering just how much to tell Dan, but it really didn't matter. "Steven's my middle name. As a teenager, I was really overweight, and the kids used to call me Blobby Bobby. Lane," Steven said as he looked toward the front desk area, "was the chief instigator."
"Well, it looks to me as though that kid is long gone," Dan told him. "None of us is who we were then." Dan looked to where Lane sat talking on the phone. "But I do know that Lane has a reputation as a bit of a player. I'm just saying, not judging," he clarified quickly.
"Lane's a good guy," Lonnie interjected. "For a fruitbag---no offense," Lonnie added with a grin. "You two ready to move on, or you gonna stand around exchanging recipes? You know, if you were real friends, you could jerk me off." Dan just shook his head at Lonnie as he ducked when Steven took a swipe at him.
"Now you've got the hang of it. Just don't hit him in the head. He's got enough brain damage as it is," Dan told him with a huge grin.
"If you ladies are ready," Lonnie chided, completely unfazed, before moving to the incline bench. When they finished their workout, the three of them headed toward the locker room. Steven couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun during a workout. "You guys saunaing?" Lonnie asked without stopping for an answer as they all went to their lockers. Changing into a bathing suit, Steven made his way to the sauna. As he opened the door, the heat surrounded him, and Steven took a seat on the bench. Dan and Lonnie followed right behind, and almost as soon as he sat down, Lonnie started talking, telling stories about his ex-wife and God knew what else. "So, Stevie, ya pole smoker, you gonna join us tomorrow?" Lonnie asked without stopping to wait for an answer. "We meet at Panera at ten and then come to the gym."
He had no plans other than spending most of the day alone. "Sure, I guess."
"Don't be late or I'll bang you in the ass."
Steven turned to Dan. "Is he always like this?"
"God, yes. Lonnie's a complete pig and living proof that there is such a thing as Jewish pork." Dan bumped his shoulder against Lonnie's in a familiar, friendly way as the door opened and Gene walked in wearing a Speedo.
"Nice panties. I've seen larger bathing suits on a Smurf," Lonnie commented with a smirk.
"Lon, your mother called a few minutes ago, she wants her ass back," Gene retorted without missing a beat, settling on the bench next to Dan. Damn, they were a good-looking couple. Dan was definitely older than Gene, but Steven could tell they were happy just by the way they both seemed to brighten when they were together.
"So, Stevie, you're looking really buff---you juicing?" Lonnie quipped.
Steven looked down at his chest and stomach, suppressing a pleased smile before shaking his head. "No, never used the stuff. Have you?" Lonnie didn't answer since he was already talking to someone else about God knows what. The sauna door opened, and Steven looked up to see Lane stride in. The man looked good, strong arms, big chest, and wide shoulders with an intricate flowing tattoo covering one of them. Lane sat down next to him, the large man smiling at him, and Steven could almost feel Lane's eyes raking over him. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the attention. It was nice and all, but Steven had no intention of getting played, and he really wasn't interested in an easy, good time. He'd done that plenty when he was younger, and while fun, it often left him feeling empty. Some guys loved as much sex as they could get with as many guys as possible, but that wasn't him, at least not anymore.
Lonnie kept talking and Steven got up, stepping toward the door. "There's a whirlpool out by the pool, isn't there?"
"I'll show you," Lane said, practically jumping off the bench. Steven looked to Dan and saw him smile as Steven left the sauna, following Lane out toward the whirlpool.
"Are you done for the day?" Steven asked Lane as he toed off his shower shoes before stepping into the hot swirling water.
"Yeah. I finished a little while ago," Lane told him as he sank into the water, settling a few jets over from him. "I didn't want to leave until I gave you your pass," Lane said, but Steven knew it was more than that. Relaxing against the side of the whirlpool, he let his head lean back and his eyes close. After a hard workout, there was nothing better than relaxing in the whirlpool. "I was wondering," Lane began, and Steven opened his eyes, looking at Lane, "would you like to get some dinner or something some time?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Steven asked, and Lane nodded, suddenly looking rather shy and vulnerable. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"
"No, should I?" Lane sat up straighter in the water, staring at him intently. "Where did you go to school?"
"Cumberland Valley," Steven answered before adding, "we were in the same class."
"No way!" Lane said, grinning. "I'd remember if we were."
"You might, but I doubt for the reasons you're thinking. Steven's my middle name. My first name is Robert, but in high school everyone called me Bobby." Steven watched Lane's face as he went through everyone he could think of, and he saw instantly when Lane remembered. The big guy's eyes widened and his mouth fell open.
"You can't be. You look so different. You're Bobby Phillips?"
Steven nodded. "Although you never called me by my last name." Steven stood up in the water, getting ready to leave, while at the same time giving Lane a good look at the man he'd become rather than the teenager he once was.
"God, I was such an ass in high school," Lane said softly. Steven stopped, turning quickly to face his high school tormenter. "I knew I liked guys, but couldn't face it, so I made everyone's life pure hell, including my own. But I think I treated you worse than anyone. Like I said, I was a complete ass, and all I can say is that I'm sorry." Lane's face remained serious, and then he smirked this sideways grin. "Would it make you feel better if I let you give me a swirly or stuff me in a locker?"
Steven shook his head before breaking into his own smile. "You're a nut, and I don't think you could fit in a locker anywhere on the planet." Lane stood up, and Steven got a good look at his muscled chest, water sliding down his smooth skin, whirlpool bubbles clinging to his chiseled stomach.
"So what brings you back to town?"
"Believe it or not, my job transferred me here, of all places." Steven smiled as best he could. "Who would have thought that after living in Chicago and San Francisco for the last ten years that I would be transferred back to the area where I grew up?"
"Did you request the transfer?" Lane asked, sitting on the side with his legs dangling in the water.
"Not particularly, no." In truth Steven had absolutely not requested the transfer at all. He'd been happy in Chicago, and he liked the bigger city. He would never have asked to come back to central Pennsylvania, not in a million years. There was nothing wrong with the area, per se, it was just that when he'd left, Steven had had no intention of ever coming back. There were way too many painful memories here, and they had nothing to do with high school, although those weren't the most pleasant either. "It just worked out that way," Steven added with a shrug before lowering himself back into the water.
"What is it you do?"
"Information technology work. I've spent the last five years or so managing large-scale software installations. My company has a huge project they're undertaking in this area, and they needed me here." Steven let his gaze wander over Lane's body as Lane leaned back, stretching a little, and Steven took in the sight of tan skin and rippling muscles. Sighing softly, he pulled his eyes away, instead looking across the pool and out of the windows to the bright spring sunshine that shone on the flowers outside the window. He didn't do that anymore; he couldn't. Sighing, he did his best to try to push away the stab of desire that shot through him. Regardless of their history, Lane was an attractive man. Steven would have to be blind not to see it. "I never thought I'd be back here," Steven said quietly, "and I certainly never thought I'd be talking to Lane Parkinson again."
"We're not the same people we were then. Neither of us is," Lane said. "You're not Blobby Bobby, and I'm certainly not Lane the Pain, either, or the myriad of things the kids called me." Steven snapped his head around. He'd forgotten the names he and his friends had used to describe their tormenter. "You didn't think I heard it?"
"I'd just forgotten, I guess."
"So," Lane said as he got up, walking toward the whirlpool steps, "what about that dinner? Are you interested?" Lane stopped, one leg on a step as he turned around, deep brown eyes shining with an unspoken invitation.
"Let me think about it, okay? I'm just getting into town."
"At least it's not a no. I can accept that." Lane climbed the rest of the way out of the water, his bathing suit clinging invitingly around his hips and a butt that could crack walnuts. Powerful leg muscles corded as Lane lifted himself the rest of the way out of the water. "Stop by the desk so I can give you the pass." Steven nodded, swallowing slightly, watching as Lane walked toward the locker room.
Steven sat in the water for a minute or so before getting out as well. Walking into the locker room, Steven heard the showers, and for a second his mind conjured up an image of what Lane would look like without the bathing suit. Resisting the urge to see if he could get a peek, he walked past and into the bathroom area, standing in front of the sinks. No one else was around, and Steven washed his hands for something to do before lifting his eyes to look in the mirror. For a brief second, he could almost see himself as he'd been all those years ago. Closing his eyes, Steven took a deep breath. Opening his eyes again, he let his gaze fall on the man he was today. Tall and strong, with tan skin, a flat stomach, strong arms, and chest. He hadn't thought about the person he'd been back then in years, and he wondered why everything was coming back now.
A swatting slap on his rear end brought him out of his thoughts. "A bunch of us are going to dinner. We're meeting at Sapporo East on Carlisle Pike at six thirty. Join us." Lonnie leaned over the sink and began spreading shaving cream on his chest.
"Thanks," Steven answered. He figured he could find the restaurant. "Do you do that often?" Steven asked as Lonnie began running a razor over his skin.
"About once a week," Lonnie answered, the razor moving quickly over his skin. "If I don't, I start to look like yeti."
"More like Jewbacca," Dan chided as he stuck his head in, "and no, I'm not shaving your back for you." Dan's attention shifted to him. "Steven, I'd make myself scarce before he tries to talk you into it."
"I'll see you at dinner," Steven said as he hastily walked back toward the showers.
"Six thirty, ya fruitcake," Lonnie called, his voice carrying through the area, and Steven heard a number of chuckles. Obviously, Lonnie's mannerisms and behavior were familiar territory for just about everyone at the club.
Finding an empty shower, Steven started the water, letting it warm before getting in the stall and pulling the curtain closed. Steven stripped off his suit and hung it over the bar before reaching around for the soap dispenser. Soaping himself up, he let his hands roam for a few minutes. He wasn't about to jerk off here, although he wanted to---his mind kept conjuring up images of Lane with his bathing suit plastered to his skin. Steven finished his shower and turned off the water before opening the curtain. He reached for his towel and began drying himself. Hearing another curtain open, he lifted his head just enough to see Lane standing in the shower across from him. Damn, he'd always thought his imagination was pretty good, but it paled in comparison to the real thing. Forcing himself to keep his mind on his task, Steven wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried to the locker room, where he finished drying himself and began getting dressed. Thankfully, Lane seemed to be in another bay, and Steven finished getting dressed undisturbed.
Leaving the locker room, he wandered to the front, where he saw Lane fishing around in a desk. "I have your pass," Lane said, and he handed it to Steven. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yup. I should be here in the morning."
"Cool. See you then," Lane told him with a wink before closing the drawer. Steven turned to leave the club, striding through the doors and out to his rental car. As he got in, he saw Lane walking across the parking lot.
Steven knew he was probably being ridiculous. Lane had only asked him to dinner, and he knew dinner wouldn't lead to anything he didn't want it to. Maybe that was the issue? He really wanted it to lead to something; he just couldn't bring himself to let anything like that happen. He couldn't. He had to face that that part of his life was over. Closing the car door, he watched Lane get into his car. Starting the engine, Steven pulled out of his parking space, driving out of the lot and onto the street going back to his hotel.
Everything about being back in the town where he'd grown up seemed to bother him. He hadn't thought about high school or Blobby Bobby in years, and here he felt like that fat kid again. He knew there was no reason for it, and he knew he had to get over it. He wasn't that person anymore, and it was time to put it out of his mind. He'd already met new people who seemed like a lot of fun.
Pulling into the hotel, he grabbed his bag out of the trunk before striding inside and up to his room. Steven still had a few hours before dinner, and he spent most of it lying on the bed mindlessly watching television. Turning it off, he picked up his phone, nearly dialing his parents' telephone number. The temptation was quite strong, and that surprised him. He hadn't had any desire to talk to them in almost ten years. For a while, he'd tried calling during the holidays, but they never answered and his messages went unreturned. Eventually, he stopped calling and went on with his life. This was just a place like any other, and after all these years, a lot had changed, and it was time for him to finally move beyond this.
As he set his phone on the nightstand, it began to ring, and he saw it was one of his friends from Chicago. Happy for the relief from his maudlin thoughts, Steven answered the phone, glad to push his ridiculous thoughts aside. He was an adult and he had his own life. His parents had thrown him out of their life a long time ago, and there was no going back. "Marky...," Steven chirped brightly as he answered the call.
Steven woke late, but went through his morning routine like he always did, just as fast as he could. He'd stayed up late the night before, after going out to dinner with Lonnie and the guys. Leaving the hotel, he found his way to the bakery, parking his car in an empty space. As he got out, a red sports car pulled into the spot next to his, and Lonnie got out. Steven took a second look, admiring the obviously powerful automobile. "Nice car," he commented with a smile.
"It's a Porsche GT3. There are only twenty of them on the road in the country," Lonnie told him proudly, closing the door. "My fiancée, Cory, is driving the other one," Lonnie explained, as though everyone had two Porsches. Steven tried to keep the surprise off his face as he followed Lonnie inside. Standing in line to order, Dan and Gene joined them, as did another couple who Dan introduced as Max and Hugh. "It's a regular sausagefest," Lonnie quipped, and the other guys all laughed. Steven laughed as well, getting used to Lonnie's humor, realizing there was no malice intended.
"Careful, Lonnie," Max said from beside him, a grin on his young face, "you're outnumbered." Max turned to the others. "I figure it'll only take an hour for us to turn him to the dark side." Max waggled his eyebrows, and Lonnie got quiet before laughing with the others. Hugh leaned close to Max's ear, whispering something. Steven wasn't close enough to hear, but he saw Max turn beet red, his smile widening.
"Be good," Max admonished with no heat and a touch of embarrassment. Reaching the counter, everyone ordered, and Lonnie insisted on paying, refusing to hear anything to the contrary.
"Are you moving here permanently?" Hugh asked as they carried their orders to the table that Dan had scoped out.
"It looks like it. My stuff hasn't been packed yet, and I need to find a place here first." Steven began spreading his light cream cheese on a whole-grain bagel.
"Are you going to rent or buy?" Max asked from his chair next to Hugh as he cut a bagel in half, sharing it with Hugh.
"I was thinking of buying. In Chicago, I have a two-bedroom condo. If I sell it, I can probably buy a small house here with the money. I have an appointment with a Realtor next week to see what my options are."
"Let us know," Max said after swallowing. "There are some nice homes for sale in our neighborhood."
"I haven't really had much of a chance to think about what I want to do. They offered me the job early last week and told me to be at the office here on Monday. They'll talk about something for months, but once they make a decision, they want it done yesterday."
"What company do you work for?"
"Shoebox. They have an office near here."
Dan grinned. "Me too. I'm a programmer there. I'll look for you tomorrow."
"That would be great," Steven said, already feeling a little better about his impending first day in the new office. He knew people there already from past projects and conference calls, but he'd actually met very few of them, and it would be nice to already have a friend in the office. After eating, Lonnie told more stories and showed everyone interested pictures of the Babe Ruth baseball card he'd just purchased for more money than Steven made in a year. With their breakfasts settled, everyone left and headed over to the gym. Steven followed Lonnie in his car, surprised that the engine sounded more like a sewing machine than the throaty powerhouse he'd been expecting.
Inside the club, he showed his pass to the girl behind the desk and walked back toward the locker room with the other guys. Inside, he chose a locker and started to change as someone else took the locker next to his. Looking up, he saw Lane pulling off his shirt. "Aren't you working?" Steven asked, a bit surprised.
"Not today," Lane said with a wink. "I was hoping I could work out with you."
"If you'd like," Steven replied, feeling a slight flutter in his stomach. Pushing that aside, because he knew he had to, Steven finished changing before meeting the guys on the workout floor. Their group was too large to work out together, so they divided up, and of course Steven found himself with Lane. He had to give the man credit, he was persistent. "We did chest yesterday, so is back good for you?" Steven asked.
"Sure," Lane answered as he went to one of the racks, loading a bar for some bent-over rows. "Do you want me to start?"
"Go ahead," Steven told him, watching as Lane got into position, bending over the bar. As Lane lifted the weight, his pants tightened, shirt pulling taut. Steven became entranced as Lane's powerful back muscles rippled and moved beneath the fabric as he pulled the bar to his lower chest. Damn if that isn't a beautiful sight. One rep became two and eventually ten, and it was only the clang of the bar being set back on the rack that broke the attraction-induced trance. Stepping away, Lane made room for him. Breathing deeply, Steven lifted the bar and began his set, back muscles pulling tight with every repetition, exhaling with each pull of the bar. Placing it back on the rack, Steven turned around and saw Lane smiling. "Have you thought about having dinner with me?" Steven nodded once---he hadn't thought about much else, if he were honest with himself. "So, Steven, will you have dinner with me?"
"Okay," Steven answered, knowing he should have politely declined, but his animal attraction won out. "I'll have dinner with you, but I need to have a chance to settle in at the office. So is Saturday okay?"
"Sure," Lane answered, and for a second Steven could almost see him already figuring out where they were going to go.
Lane increased the weight before starting his set, and Steven watched once again as Lane's muscles flexed beneath his shirt. Halfway through, Steven's eyes traveled lower. Lane's butt strained inside his thin shorts, and Steven had to suppress the small sigh. Not wanting to be obvious, he looked around the weight area to see where the other guys were, and saw Dan looking back at him from across the weight floor. Steven swore he saw Dan wink at him, but before he could give it much thought, he heard the chink of the weight being dropped back on the rack. "Damn, that was heavy," Lane commented as he reached for a bottle of water, taking a swig as Steven got into position. "Keep your back straight," Lane told him, touching the center of his back. "You're arching and could hurt yourself."
Steven adjusted his back as he felt the heat from Lane's hand through the thin fabric of his shirt. He'd felt desire and a longing to be touched before, but never quite like this. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, he lifted the bar and began powering his way through the set, determined to drive his thoughts from his head. One... two... three.... With each rep, he told himself no, that whatever his errant body wanted... four... five... six... he could never act on it, anyway; that was closed to him now. Seven... eight... nine.... His mind began to clear as his muscles screamed for mercy. Ten! Steven let out a groan and dropped the weight back onto the rack, huffing a small cry of frustration, letting the set he'd just finished act as cover.
"Good set?" Lane asked, and Steven nodded, still breathing hard, doing his best to look away from Lane's broad chest as it stretched his shirt taut, hard nipples pressing against the fabric.
"Damn," he half moaned before he could stop himself, and he could only hope the extreme set would cover for him. Stepping back, he let Lane increase the weight one more time as he swigged water from his bottle. During Steven's set, Lane had pulled off his T-shirt and was wearing just a string tank, showing off the plated muscle of his chest, dripping with sweat.
He and Lane took turns, doing three more sets before moving on to another exercise. A few times, he knew he saw Lane checking him out, but Steven ignored it and tried to keep his attention on the workout and away from the hard body he was working out with. He failed miserably. Every exercise seemed to make Lane appear larger, his muscles engorging with blood. And it wasn't just Lane's. Steven had never been so happy to be wearing a jock strap in his life.
"Hey, birdgazers," Lonnie said from behind him as Steven finished up his last set of lat pull-downs, his arms pulling the bar on its cable down behind his neck. Finishing the set, he stood up again, breathing hard, his back muscles straining. "You two cockhoppers lunching with us?"
"Sure," Lane said, "after this ass-kicking, I'm gonna need food." Lane turned to him, a hopeful look on his face, and Steven found himself agreeing as well.
Everyone seemed to be done at the same time, and all the guys headed toward the locker room, talking and laughing. Steven opened his locker, trying not to pay too much attention to Lane standing right next to him, but it was impossible, especially when Lane stripped down, standing naked next to him as he fished around for his bathing suit. Steven knew Lane was doing this on purpose and was about ready to smack him on the ass, but the man would probably think he was coming on to him, and Steven didn't want to encourage him. Slipping out of his own clothes, Steven put on his suit and found Lane openly checking him out. Thankfully, the other man said nothing, and Steven followed him to the sauna, where Lonnie was already deep into one of his stories. Immensely grateful, Steven took a seat on the edge of the bench near the wall, where he couldn't see Lane directly. The man was sex on wheels and had him so spun up that Steven had to check the front of his suit to make sure he wasn't embarrassing himself.
Once Lonnie finished his story, guys began to filter out, some to the showers and others to the whirlpool, and when Lane got up to leave, Steven lagged behind until it was just him and Lonnie. "What's up with you two?" Lonnie asked him. "Lane's a great guy, and he's smokin' hot. I'd fuck him if I was into that."
"I don't...," Steven started to say, but couldn't get his mouth around what he wanted to say. "It's complicated."
"Screw that," Lonnie chided. "He's interested, so take him home and let him suck some protein directly from the tap."
"Lonnie," Steven said with a sigh as he shook his head. "You don't understand. It's a lot more complicated than sex."
"What? Things not working? Because I can get you in touch with a good doctor who can help get things standing tall."
Steven laughed. "It's nothing like that." Standing up, he walked toward the sauna door. "I'll see you in a bit." Letting the door close behind him, Steven walked toward the showers. Finding one that was free, he showered quickly, drying himself before heading to the locker room to dress, listening to the guys around him jabber about this and that. He had to admit, they were a great group of guys, and it had been quite a while since he'd been a part of a group like this. He only hoped it lasted.
A hand settled on his shoulder. "I'll meet you out front," Lane said with a smile.
"I'm right behind you," Steven answered, putting his wet and dirty clothes into his bag before grabbing his jacket and following Lane out of the locker room. The rest of the guys were waiting up near the front of the gym, and everyone left together, trying to decide where to go for lunch. After they all finally settled on a restaurant, Steven got into his car, following the group there.
They had to wait a few minutes while the servers made up a table large enough for all of them. As they waited, Steven felt something tickle his hand lightly. Looking down, he saw Lane's fingers lightly brushing his hand, the man smiling at him like an excited kid. Being touched again felt nice, and he wound a finger around one of Lane's, letting himself enjoy the feeling.
"Your table's ready," the server said, and after grabbing menus, she led them to their table, where Lonnie saved the chair next to his.
"Hey, Chicken," he called in some weird voice as a beautiful woman seated herself next to him. Lonnie introduced her as Cory, his fiancée, as their server arrived and began taking drink orders. Everyone around the table began talking, with Lonnie telling more embarrassing stories. Fortunately they were mostly about himself and the stupid things he'd done, but he kept everyone laughing until the server brought their drinks.
Steven picked up the glass in front of him and the glass handle gave way. The body of the glass shattered on the table, and Steven looked down at his hand as blood ran down his palm, dripping onto the table. The others grabbed napkins, reaching to clean up the spill. "Don't," Steven said, "don't touch anything and drop the napkins." Lane reached for his hand, and Steven jerked it away. Grabbing for a napkin, he placed it over the cut, which didn't seem too bad, and carefully cleaned up the drops of blood on the table. A server came to the table, reaching over him. "Please, don't," he told her. "Bring a cloth from the kitchen that has been soaked in bleach water and don't touch the table."
"Why did you...." Lonnie started like he'd been kicked. "What was that for?" Lonnie asked, glaring at Dan, who nodded to Steven. "No, seriously, what's with that?"
Steven found everyone at the table looking at him, and he wanted to sink through the floor. The server brought the cloth and Steven cleaned up the table. "Please bring me a plastic bag," he told her, and the server left again, returning with a bag, and Steven put the cloth inside, not giving it back. The server left and the manager joined them at their table.
"Is there a problem?"
"No," Steven answered, "I cut myself on the glass and...." He swallowed. "My blood is a hazardous substance because I'm HIV-positive. I was probably overreacting, but I didn't want anyone hurt. I'll take the cloth with me and dispose of it properly." He had a hazardous material disposal bag back at his hotel. Leaving the table, Steven went out to his rental car, getting his first aid kit from his gym bag, and he checked his hand carefully, making sure everything was properly cleaned and that the bleeding had stopped.
Thankfully, the wound wasn't serious, and after checking it out, he bandaged it properly before putting his supplies away. Standing beside the car, he debated going back to his hotel. He'd already caused enough trouble, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go back inside to face either the looks he got from people who thought he was the devil incarnate, or the pitying looks he got from everyone else. Frankly, he really didn't need either one. Closing the car door, he huffed to himself before walking back into the restaurant.
The group had been moved to another table, and Steven looked to where they had been sitting, seeing someone from the restaurant with a sanitary kit, wearing gloves and cleaning the table with sanitizing spray. He'd seen this before and knew it was standard procedure, but it always made him seem like a pariah. "Are you okay?" Dan asked as he stood up, indicating the chair next to him. Steven nodded and sat down, noticing that he was seated between Dan and Gene, which he took as a sign of support, with Lane as far away from him as he could get. Steven guessed he should have expected that. Most everyone at the table seemed to be talking like they had been earlier.
"So as I was saying...." Lonnie raised his voice drawing everyone's attention to him. "It was New Year's Eve, and we were having this party. Jim, one of my friends," Lonnie said, turning to Dan, "You've met him. He's about three hundred pounds. He sits next to me and lets one rip so loud you could hear it over the television. I mean, I thought I was going to puke, and poor Cory ran out of the room, and I couldn't find her for ten minutes. That had to be the loudest fart in history."
Steven looked to Dan, figuring he must have missed something, but Dan just mouthed, "You don't want to know."
The server arrived at the table and took their orders. Steven gave his and watched the others around the table. Everyone seemed to be acting normal---everyone except Lane, who kept staring at him for a few seconds and then looking away. The look wasn't pity, but he knew those glances too. Steven had seen those looks before, and knew what those eyes that wouldn't meet his meant. He knew Lane was at this moment breathing a sigh of relief that nothing had happened between them, and that he was also trying to figure out just how quickly he could get the hell out of there. After all, Lane looked about two seconds from bolting to the door.
"Steven," Cory said quietly from next to where Lonnie sat, "are you all right? Some of my clients have HIV, and I understand what you've been through." She reached over and patted his uninjured hand, and he followed her steely gaze down the table to where Lane looked as though he were trying to hide. Steven knew she was issuing a silent challenge to him and everyone else at the table.
"So, how'd you get it? Take it up the ass one too many times?" Lonnie asked, but he didn't stop for an answer. "Not that I'm one to say anything." Lonnie leaned closer from their side of the table, as though he were sharing a secret. "Cory does this thing with her finger, makes me bust a nut faster than you can say love rocket."
Steven found himself laughing along with the other people at their end of the table, and he finally let himself relax a bit.
Their food arrived, and everyone began to eat, the conversation continuing around the table as though nothing had happened. Dan filled him in on some things about the office and arranged to meet him for lunch the following day. "Maybe I'll be assigned to your project," he told him excitedly. "I get so tired of maintaining the same systems all the time. It would be great to work on something new."
"I can ask," Steven said, glad he'd know someone at the office. He couldn't help looking down the table to where Lane sat quietly, his attention fully on his plate. Yeah, it was definitely like he'd feared. After his diagnosis, he'd spent some time at an HIV support group, and a lot of the guys had told stories of people they'd met and liked, but as soon as they learned they were HIV positive, they never heard anything from them again, and Steven had figured that would happen with Lane. Not that he should have been so surprised. Steven had already considered that part of his life over, anyway, but he'd liked the way Lane had touched him, and he liked having a friend. Well, that was over and he needed to accept it. Hell, they hadn't even gone out on a date or anything, so it was no use getting upset.
As they finished their lunches, the server took their plates away and brought the checks. Max and Hugh paid their bills and said their goodbyes, both of them shaking his hand. Steven saw Lane get up, looking at him, and hoped Lane would at least say something, but he simply said goodbye to everyone at once before grabbing his jacket and leaving the restaurant. "I'm sorry," Gene said from next to him, shaking his head. "I know you liked him, but if he can't handle it, it's best to find out now."
"I know, and it's not like anything could happen between us, but it still kind of stings, you know?"
Dan looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"It's not important," Steven said as he pushed back from the table. "Thank you for lunch. It was great."
"See you at the gym tomorrow, about four thirty," Lonnie told him, surprising Steven when he was pulled into a hug. Steven felt an unexpected emotional tide wash over him, and he blinked a few times before Lonnie released him from the hug. "You know it doesn't matter---hell, you can still give me a hand job sometime if you want."
Steven began laughing as he saw Dan cuff Lonnie on the back of the head. "Why is it everything revolves around your dick?"
"Because it's where he keeps his brain," Cory told them as she took his hand, leading him out of the restaurant, waving with her other hand as she hauled the much larger man behind her.
"Gene and I have to be going, too, but I'll see you tomorrow," Dan told him as they walked out of the restaurant. Shaking hands, they said goodbye, and Steven got into his car, feeling a little relieved in some ways and just a little more alone in others.
Saturday, today was Saturday, Steven reminded himself as he got out of the hotel bed, padding to the bathroom. The first thing he did was clean up, and then he took his meds, just like he did every day. His first week at work had been good, and he was indeed pleased when Dan had been assigned to his team. It looked like they were going to work really well together. After work, he'd joined the guys at the gym, and to his surprise, no one had treated him differently or even said anything about his disease. They treated him the same as everyone else, and Lonnie had started calling him cockhopper or some other stupid thing, which Steven took as a sign of acceptance. The one person he hadn't seen was Lane. He hadn't been at the club at all, and he hadn't called. Even though they had talked about going to dinner, he hadn't heard anything, so he figured that Lane couldn't handle him being positive. Not that that came as a surprise after the restaurant incident last weekend, but Steven had kind of hoped Lane would come around.
Steven's phone buzzed on the dresser. "Hey, Lonnie," Steven answered, as he tried to decide what to wear after pulling aside the dirty clothes, reminding himself that he needed to do laundry.
"We're meeting in half an hour at Panera. You coming?"
"Sure, I'm just getting up, but I'll meet you there," Steven said before saying goodbye and hanging up. He hurried around the room, dressing and getting his dirty clothes together to go to the Laundromat. As he was leaving, Steven grabbed his gym bag and the dirty clothes, and had just closed his door when his phone rang again. Letting it go to voice mail, he hurried out to his car and drove to get breakfast.
He found the guys seated around a table, and to his surprise Lane was there, as well. Dan and Gene said their hellos before getting up to get in line. "Steven, can we get you anything?"
"A plain bagel with light cream cheese would be perfect. Thank you." Steven gave Dan money and found a seat. He looked across at Lane, wondering if the man even wanted to speak to him, but decided not to be petty. "I haven't seen you at the gym this week."
"I only work there on the weekends. During the week I'm a physical therapist," Lane explained, looking uncomfortable and ill at ease, and Steven didn't know what to say to make him comfortable. He was still HIV-positive, and that wasn't going to change.
"Sounds like you're a busy man. Why the extra job?" Steven asked as the other guys returned, trying to make small talk as he danced around the real questions he wanted to ask. He figured Lane was doing the same. Dan handed him his plate and everyone sat down as Lonnie immediately broke into a blow-by-blow of his evening the night before, including a detailed description of the things that Cory had done to him. Not that Steven was interested, but if half of what Lonnie described was true, then he was a lucky man.
After they'd eaten, everyone took care of their dishes and they left, driving the short distance to the gym. Steven got his things, and after scanning his new membership card, he walked back to the locker room. Changing quickly, Steven closed his locker and headed to the weight floor, where some of the guys were waiting for him. "Are you dick divers ready?" Lonnie asked, with what Steven had learned was his usual bravado. Gene had already moved off on his own, while Dan and Steven followed Lonnie. Lane joined them a few seconds later, and Steven found himself wondering just what he was up to. "With four of us, we need to split up, so Dan and I will work together. Steven, you and Lane work together," Lonnie instructed as he reached for a set of dumbbells.
Steven looked at Lane, wondering how he felt about that, but Lane got a pair of dumbbells and copped an incline bench, beginning his set without saying anything. Steven stood back and watched. It was only a workout, and if Lane didn't want to say anything, he could live with that. After finishing the set, Lane got up and Steven performed his, trying to turn off everything and concentrate on the exercise he was doing. When he was done, he put the weights back in the rack.
"How long ago did you find out you were...." Lane stumbled. "You know?"
"HIV-positive? About two years ago. I don't have any symptoms, and I take meds that have fought the virus to the point that tests can no longer detect it, but that doesn't mean it's gone," Steven answered. Lane got the dumbbells for his next set, saying nothing more. After he'd done ten reps, he stood up and put them back in the rack.
"How did you get it?" Lane asked, as Steven reached for his weights. Stopping, Steven turned to face him.
"I'd like to say it was something beyond my control, but it wasn't. I spent a lot of time playing the field. I used condoms most of the time, but I can think of a few times when I'd had too much to drink and caution went out the window. It was a stupid thing to do, and I was young and figured nothing could happen to me. I was wrong." Steven moved, standing with his hand on the back of the bench. "I wish I knew who I got the virus from, but I don't. I spent a lot of my time with one guy after the other. Looking back, I guess I deserve what I got."
"HIV isn't punishment for your behavior, and you don't deserve to be sick. No one does." Lane told him with a conviction that surprised him. After the way Lane had been acting, he'd been expecting less understanding and more hostility, or at least some uncomfortable silence.
"So what gives? Last week you treated me as though I had leprosy, and now you're Mr. Understanding. I don't get it." Steven stepped to the rack, picking up his weights before doing his set as a touch of anger had adrenaline coursing through his body. At the end of the set, he dropped the weights with a thud and then reclined back against the bench, his thoughts in a bit of a whirl.
"Steven, I don't understand it myself. When you told me, I guess I was stupid and scared. I like you and I was hoping to get to know you better," Lane said softly.
Steven stood up, turning around. "And you thought that getting to know me better would involve getting naked and horizontal," Steven supplied. "Well, now you know that that portion of my life is over, so you won't have to worry about it." Steven moved away from the bench, suddenly in no mood to work out at all. "I have no intention of ever putting you or anyone else in danger."
Lane lifted his weights, settling on the bench. Flicking his knees, he hoisted the weights in the air, pounding out a set before dropping the weights with a bang. "You know, Steven, you're kind of an ass," Lane told him, his head turning on the bench to face him.
Steven had no idea what to say to that, and he swallowed hard, tamping down the urge to simply walk away. "I'm an ass?"
"Yes, and a melodramatic one at that. Being HIV-positive does not mean your life is over, sexually or otherwise."
"How do you know?" Steven asked defensively, arms folded over his chest.
Lane got up from the bench, his expression soft, and Steven felt part of his indignation slip away. "I asked one of the doctors where I work, and he explained a number of things. Look, I'll admit the news that you have HIV was a bit shocking, and I'm also willing to admit that it scared me, okay?"
Steven nodded slightly. He of all people could understand the fear that came with his disease; he'd felt it often enough. "I'm not happy about how I acted at the restaurant," Lane added.
"Okay, fair enough," Steven said as he got into position on the weight bench. "Your conscience is clear and you can go on knowing everything's okay."
Steven did his set not knowing what to expect, nor really caring, for that matter. It wasn't his job to give Lane some sort of absolution for his behavior. Hell, Lane didn't even owe him an explanation in the first place. He knew how scared people could get, and the guy was trying, at least. Maybe he should cut him some slack, after all. Finishing his set, Steven dropped the weights before pushing them off to the side so Lane could use them again.
"You really are an ass," Lane told him as he got up.
"You already said that," Steven countered.
"Look, I wanted to tell you I was sorry for blowing you off and that I shouldn't have acted like that in the restaurant. No, that's not right, what I wanted to say was that I shouldn't have treated you differently once I knew." Steven almost jumped when he felt Lane's fingers brush against his hand. "I know you can't transmit HIV from touch or even kissing. I didn't then, but I do now."
"You really asked someone? Why?"
"We have a date for tonight, and I wanted to know what I could do."
"Look," Steven said, taking a step back. "You don't have to do that. You asked me before you knew, and for the record, I wouldn't have allowed anything to happen that would have put you in any danger."
Lane held up his hands in a kind of surrender. "I never said you would. That was one thing that never crossed my mind. I sort of know now why you were so reticent before, and I can't say I blame you, but I wanted to ask if you'd give me a chance. I really would like to have dinner with you."
"Lane, you don't have to do this to satisfy some sort of obligation." The last thing Steven wanted was a pity date. He'd had people do enough things for him out of pity; he'd hated it then and couldn't bear it now.
"I'm not," Lane told him with a slight smile and wink as he slid onto the bench before doing his set. Steven watched, the way he usually did, trying to keep himself from staring as Lane's chest expanded and contracted while he did the exercise. He knew he should be interested in other things besides the way Lane looked, but those muscles working had him completely enthralled. Lane had surprised him, and he found his resolve weakening. When the dumbbells thunked onto the floor, Steven picked up his weights, performing his set with Lane spotting him on the heavy weight, his hands on his elbows.
"So have you two made up?" Lonnie quipped as he wandered over to their bench. "Dan and I are done on the flat bench."
"We're done here," Lane told Lonnie, and they traded benches. Lane did his first set, and then Steven took his turn. They didn't talk much now, and Steven began to wonder just what Lane wanted. He'd been guarding his feelings for a long time, and it came naturally to do it now. Once they'd done four sets on the flat bench, he and Lane joined Lonnie and Dan for some work on the decline bench. Since there was only one, they took turns, doing their best to keep things moving. Steven noticed that Lane kept watching him, and hell, if he were honest, he kept watching Lane. There was something about him that really seemed to draw Steven's attention. He never thought he had a particular "type" of guy, but it seemed that Lane was it.
Steven had sweated through his clothes by the time they'd completed the workout. Grabbing his water bottle, he headed into the locker room, his thoughts still a little scattered. The thought of going out with someone on a date for the first time in a while was exciting, but he couldn't keep his nerves tamped down. Part of him was truly excited, but another part, the part that seemed to be weakening, kept saying it was best to keep that part of himself closed off and to not get his hopes up. Steven knew it would take a very special person to let someone with HIV into their life. "Stop it," he told himself quietly---it was only dinner and nothing more.
Changing into his bathing suit, he grabbed his towel, and after filling his water bottle, he walked to the sauna. He didn't stay long, though, before showering quickly and heading for the whirlpool. He needed to let his muscles relax, and the water helped. He was just lowering himself onto the seat below the water when he saw Lane stepping down into the pool before settling near him. "Have you always worked out?" Lane asked him over the sound of the water.
"I started working out when I decided it was time to lose the weight years ago, and after I was diagnosed, I kept it up, figuring the stronger and healthier I was, the less chance I'd have of the disease progressing. I don't know if that holds true scientifically, but it made me feel better."
"I take it you lost friends after you were diagnosed with HIV," Lane said, and Steven nodded slowly.
"There's still a lot of fear out there based upon outdated notions. It scares people, and it's often easier for them to simply write someone off as a friend than actually face their fears. Not that I can really blame them." Before he was diagnosed, he hadn't known anyone personally who was HIV-positive, so he'd learned about his disease firsthand. Thankfully, he'd had a great doctor who took plenty of time and answered all of Steven's questions.
"Bullpucky," Lane told him. "It's ignorance, pure and simple." Lane smiled before continuing, "Yes, I know I'm guilty of it, but I had most of the week to think, and I kind of realized that if I didn't take a chance that maybe I would end up the loser."
Steven shifted under the water so he could see Lane better. "I don't get it."
"I guess I'm saying that I think you're someone I'd like to know better, and if I write you off just because of one little thing, then maybe I'm not the person I'd like to think I am. I'm not the same person you knew in high school, but I acted like it last week, and I'd like the chance to make it up to you." Lane moved closer, and Steven felt Lane's hand touch his under the water. His skin was surprisingly soft, something he'd never noticed before, but he certainly did as Lane's fingers slid up his arm, sending a chill through his body regardless of the hot water.
"Lane, I think it's only fair to tell you that we can go to dinner, but we can't do anything more than that. It's just not safe."
Lane's hand stopped moving but didn't pull away. "Didn't they explain to you about safe sex?" Lane asked, looking surprised.
"Yes, but nothing is perfectly safe. Condoms break, and a small, unseen cut can make you vulnerable. I've been through a lot in the last few years, and I can't let someone else go through what I have because of me." Steven stood up, walking toward the steps to get out of the water. "I'm sorry, Lane, but that's the way it has to be. If you don't want to go to dinner, I'll understand." Steven climbed out, slipping on his shower shoes before padding his way back to the locker room. He knew what he'd said was the right thing, so why did he feel like he'd let himself down?
Finding an empty shower, he stepped in and stripped off his bathing suit before turning on the water and letting it warm. Washing quickly, he tried to keep his mind off Lane and on what he was doing, but it wasn't working. His imagination kept flashing images of Lane and what his hands would feel like on his skin. Dreaming of being touched again was all he'd done for the last two years, and he'd resigned himself to the fact that that was all he could ever do again. But Lane made him want more, and that was dangerous, or could be dangerous for Lane. Pushing his thoughts and imagination away, he rinsed and pushed the curtain back, reaching for his towel as Lane stepped out of the shower stall across from his as naked as the day he was born.
Whether Lane had done it on purpose or not, Steven wasn't sure and really didn't care. Stopping completely, he stared at him, his mouth hanging open. He'd gotten a glimpse of Lane earlier, but now he got the full-on effect. The man was perfect: defined chest, deeply grooved stomach, thick, strong legs, and.... Steven swallowed, then looked away. He did not need to be staring at Lane's dick, but damn if it wasn't perfect as well. Hurriedly reaching for his towel, Steven draped it in front of himself under the pretext of drying himself, trying to keep himself from getting excited standing in the showers where everyone could see. "Show-off," he said softly, because he had to say something. Peering momentarily over his towel, he saw a crooked-mouthed smirk and knew Lane had done it on purpose. The fucker.
Men moved around him and the sounds of water in the background abated until Steven realized they were the only two left. Steven wrapped his towel around his waist and was about to leave when he felt Lane's hand touch his arm.
"I'll see you tonight." Lane phrased it sort of as a question, but the tone said he wouldn't take no for an answer, and Steven nodded slowly.
"Okay." Gathering his things, he walked into the locker area, where he dressed quickly. He was just finishing when Lane joined him, and Steven explained where his hotel was.
"I'll pick you up at six," Lane said, and Steven saw that Lane had changed into his club uniform. "I have to work till then, but I'll be there." For a second, Steven thought that Lane might actually kiss him as their eyes locked, but he saw Lane swallow and the moment passed. Instead, Lane stroked his arm lightly before turning to leave the locker room. Steven wasn't proud of it, but he watched him the entire time and only turned back to his locker once Lane had left the room.
"It looks like everyone's on their own for lunch today," Dan said from across the bay, walking around the bench to where Steven was standing. "Gene's still finishing his workout, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for lunch. There's a sandwich place a few blocks away."
"That'd be nice," Steven said with a smile, since he wasn't particularly relishing spending the rest of the day alone with his thoughts. He knew he'd invariably worry things to death.
"I'll meet you out front in a few minutes," Dan told him as he grabbed his things and left. Steven finished pulling on his shoes and socks before gathering his things as well. Out near the front doors, he met Dan, and they walked to their cars together. "You can follow me if you want. It isn't far," Dan said, and Steven nodded, hurrying to his car. Pulling out and waiting for Dan, he followed him to a restaurant Steven probably would have classified as a little old lady place. "Lonnie hates this place because he can't get enough food, but their sandwiches are to die for," Dan whispered to him as they stood in line. "I usually get the cranberry pecan chicken salad wrap," he added as they reached the front. Dan ordered his usual, and Steven followed suit, taking their number and cups before paying.
Steven got his drink and snagged an empty table. Dan joined him a few seconds later, and they waited for their food. "I have a confession to make---I sort of engineered this lunch."
Steven sipped his diet soda, looking at Dan warily, but he said nothing.
"I wanted to talk to you, and I knew I couldn't with Lonnie around. I love the man to death, but he's as gossipy as an old woman talking across the back fence." Dan gulped half his drink before setting his cup on the table. "Besides, it's hard to talk about something serious when he's around." A server brought their plates and took their order number from the table. "If I'm out of line, please tell me and I'll butt out. But some years ago, I had a dear friend, someone I'd known since college, who got HIV like you did, but at the time they didn't have the drugs therapies they have today. This was back when it was a death sentence. About six months after he was diagnosed, Jimmy met Paul. They were good together, for a while, but then Jimmy started pushing Paul away. At first Paul resisted, but eventually he did what Jimmy asked."
Steven picked up part of his sandwich and took a bite, but Dan ignored his and became quiet. "What happened?" Steven prompted after swallowing.
Dan swallowed hard and Steven realized how hard it was to tell this story. "Jimmy got sick and went into the hospital with pneumonia. When Paul found out, he went to visit, and again, Jimmy pushed him away. Jimmy got sicker and sicker, and Paul kept visiting. Then he started to care for Jimmy, making sure he was comfortable, sitting by his bed most nights. When I visited the hospital in those last weeks, Paul was always there." Dan picked up a napkin, wiping his eyes, and Steven looked away to give him some privacy, but he was enthralled by the story. "The last time I visited Jimmy, he couldn't lift his head he was so weak. I heard him ask Paul a question, 'Why did you stay now?' and Paul answered, 'Because you can't push me away anymore.'" Dan took another drink from his cup, and Steven did the same to try to wash down the lump that had formed in his throat. "Jimmy died in the middle of the night less than a week later, and Paul was the only one there." Dan stopped, and Steven took another gulp from his glass. "You have to be wondering why I told you that story."
"No, I think I get it. You're saying my life isn't over."
"That, and don't push away the possibility of love because you're scared. Jimmy and Paul could have had some good months together, but Jimmy wouldn't allow it. I can't tell you what Lane's thinking, but don't shut yourself off from the possibility of love."
"I'm not," Steven replied quickly, maybe too quickly, and he saw Dan give him a knowing look. "I don't want anyone else to go through what I went through."
Dan set down his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I know, and that's admirable, but let the rest of us decide what we're willing to risk. You know there are plenty of ways to be safe if you're careful." Dan chuckled a little, almost to himself. "I'm not saying you should go out and jump in bed with the guy, but Jimmy told me once that as soon as he was diagnosed, he figured the sexual part of his life was over, and I think that's why he pushed Paul away. Jimmy was wrong, and if that's what you're thinking, then maybe you're wrong too. Just think about it."
"It's not that easy," Steven said, wishing it were.
"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy," Dan replied before shaking his head. "Could I get any more cliché?"
"I doubt it," Steven teased as his hunger caught up with him, and he began to eat in earnest as what Dan had said rattled through his head. On one level he knew Dan was right, but what he couldn't get past was the thought that if he did get with Lane, or anyone, and they were intimate.... What if someone he cared about got HIV from him? Just thinking about it was unbearable and made his stomach clench every single time. "Lane and I are having dinner tonight," Steven said, but he felt almost like he was confessing.
"I know. He told me about it when you were doing one of your sets."
"Is he really a player?" Steven asked.
"He has a bit of a reputation, but we all did that at some point. I did, you did---we grow out of it, especially if we meet the right person. So don't let that worry you too much. Also, Lonnie says he's a good guy, and he can tell a poser a mile away." Dan leaned across the table. "I can tell you he was really excited about it. I don't know what happened between last weekend and now, but whatever it was, he seems to have gotten over whatever was bothering him."
"So you're saying I should relax and let things happen." Steven was starting to feel like he could do that, but reassurance was always appreciated.
"Exactly. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, but don't cut yourself off, either. Just relax and have fun." Dan finished his drink. "We'd better go. Half the people in line are scoping out our table, and I need to see if Gene's done with his workout."
Steven got up as well, wondering what he should say to Dan, because he really did appreciate him taking the time to talk with him. Their conversation had made him feel better; now he just had pre-date butterflies. Looking around, he saw that they cleared the tables, so he headed for the door, bumping into someone when he turned back to see where Dan was. Excusing himself automatically, he turned and found himself staring into his mother's eyes.
She gasped softly and looked into his eyes for a split second. "Bobby?"
"Steven," Dan said from behind him, "are you ready to go?"
He saw her eyes blink a few times. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," she said and moved on, but Steven saw her turn to look again as he and Dan left the restaurant.
Steven could barely feel the pavement beneath his feet as he made his way to the car. He hadn't seen his mother in over a decade. She still looked the same, but with more lines on her face and some gray in her black hair. Reaching his car, he opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, his legs tingling as he took deep measured breaths. Seeing her felt like being transported back to the day he'd packed the last of his things and left for college. They hadn't said anything, his father in his office and his mother nowhere to be found, the house he'd grown up in suddenly feeling empty and strange. Well, even stranger than it had for the previous three months, during which both his parents had basically half pretended that he didn't exist.
A knock on the window caught his attention, and Steven rolled it down. "What's wrong? You look white as a sheet. Are you feeling okay?" Dan asked.
Steven took another deep breath, filling his lungs with air, willing the numbness in his legs to go away, and it seemed to be working. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." Steven forced a smile as Dan stepped back. "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning."
Dan didn't look convinced, but let it go. "We'll text you about tomorrow morning," he said before walking toward his car. Leaving the window down, Steven started the car and pulled out of the lot, letting the fresh spring air wash over him as he drove.
Autopilot seemed to take over, and it wasn't until he made the final turn that he realized he was on the street where he'd grown up. Pulling down the block, he stopped in front of the familiar house. The yard had changed some, but the house itself looked exactly the same, a sprawling ranch house with white wood siding above red brick. Pulling off the road, he stayed in the car as he looked things over. Behind the house, he could see the large tree where he'd had a rope swing as a kid, and where there had once been a swing set. He had no idea what was there now, but it didn't matter. He could see it in his mind the way it had been as though it were yesterday, he and his friends playing baseball in the backyard with the trees as bases.
Closing his eyes, Steven could almost see inside the house to the kitchen where his mother had baked a nearly endless supply of cookies and treats for his friends. Growing up, the house had always felt warm. Steven felt a tear roll down his cheek before he could blink it away, and he turned his eyes away from the house, reaching for a napkin from the door pocket.
The warmth that had always surrounded him had been his downfall. He really hadn't thought his parents could stop loving him, but the day he told them he was gay, it seemed as though they had truly stopped loving him and frozen him out of their lives. He hadn't thought about all this in years. In fact, before returning to town, he'd rarely thought of his parents at all anymore, and this trip down memory lane wasn't doing him any good. Turning toward the house again, he took a final look before starting the engine and pulling away.
The maudlin feelings dissipated some as he put distance between him and the house, but he couldn't get the startled look on his mother's face out of his mind, or the flash of... was it disappointment he'd seen when she thought he was someone else? He'd felt that brief instantaneous look in his heart, but he didn't dare let it bloom into hope of any kind. It had been too long, and he'd come too far to let himself be disappointed and rejected all over again. Catching his breath as he drove, Steven arrived back at his hotel with his stomach still fluttering. After walking through the lobby and down the hall to his room, he pulled out his phone and dialed, thankful when his friend answered. "Marky."
"Steven? You sound terrible. What happened?" Mark, or Marky, as he'd been calling him for years, was his best friend. They'd met when they were both freshmen in college and ended up as roommates, lovers for a brief time, and then best friends. Theirs was a friendship that had survived tears and even living in different parts of the country after they'd graduated, and somehow they'd managed to stay as close as two friends could be.
"I saw my mother today," Steven told him, trying to keep his voice level. "I was out to lunch with a friend, and I literally bumped into her."
"Did she see you?"
"Yeah, and I think she recognized me, but Dan called me Steven and from the look on her face, she must have thought she had me confused with someone else. It was unsettling as hell."
"You need to see her, Steven," Marky told him, and Steven nearly dropped the phone in surprise, since this was coming from the man who referred to his relationship with his own mother as a hate/hate relationship. The two of them hadn't spoken in years. "I'm serious. You need to know how she feels. What if your parents have changed? I bet they both miss you."
Steven scoffed, "This, coming from you."
"Hey!" Marky started with mock indignation. "My mother may be the bitch from hell, but she's my bitch from hell, and don't you forget it. Get your own. Oh wait, you have one---kind of." Marky's queeny rant had them both laughing, and that seemed to be what Steven needed. "Seriously, don't do it alone, but call her or go see her. You deserve to find out. The worst she can do is say no."
"What about my dad?" His mother was bad enough, but the thought of facing his father nearly made him physically ill.
"Divide and conquer," Marky said, his voice ringing through the phone. "I know this will be hard, but in all the time I've known you, you've never really dealt with them and your feelings for them. And if I know you, being back there has opened a whole can of worms."
"You could say that." All the emotions he thought he'd locked safely away kept coming to the surface, and seeing his mother had only made things worse.
"If you want my advice, I'll give it to you, but I don't think you really need it. Decide what you want to do, and I'll be here if you want to talk. Now, there has to be something better to talk about."
"I have a date," Steven said. "I joined a gym and met this guy there."
"What's he like?" Steven could hear the piqued interest in Marky's voice.
"You won't believe this, but Lane was one of the guys who tormented me in high school."
"No way!" Marky squealed on the other end of the line. "That's too weird for words," he said, cackling. "So is that what you like, being bullied around in bed? Does being thrown into lockers turn you on?" Steven felt himself smiling at Marky's mirthful tirade. "Seriously, don't you find that a little strange?"
"I did, I guess, but he's so different now I really don't think about it much."
"Have you told him?" Marky asked, all mirth gone from his voice.
"Yeah. He had a hard time with it at first, and I'm not convinced he's really sorted through everything that dating someone with HIV entails, but he seems willing to try. He asked me out before he knew, but repeated the invitation afterwards, so that's a good sign I guess."
"You guess? I'd say you hit the jackpot."
"I don't know," Steven replied, chewing on his lower lip.
"I know that voice," Marky scolded lightly. "This isn't about him and you know it. You've shut yourself off ever since the diagnosis, and that's not healthy and you know it. Your support group said the same thing. Go out with Lane, have a good time, and don't worry about it. Take things slow, but it's time you rejoined the human race again and did something besides work." Marky halted, and Steven could almost hear him thinking on the other side of the line. "Just because you have HIV doesn't mean you aren't worthy of being loved."
Steven stared at the phone, wondering if that was really the heart of the issue. "Even my parents...."
"I know how you feel, because I felt the same way for a long time. Maybe that's why we've always been such good friends."
Steven felt the emotions that had been building in him ever since he'd seen his mother begin to boil over, and he needed to hang up the phone, but he couldn't, because if he did, he'd be alone again, so he held tighter to the small lifeline in his hand. "How can I expect anyone to love me when my own parents...." Steven broke down sobbing as he sat on the edge of the bed---something he could never remember doing before. He hadn't cried all those years ago when they'd first rejected him, or any time since, so why he was crying now seemed to be a mystery, but he couldn't stop it. "My own parents didn't love me, so how could anyone else?" he managed to croak into the phone, doing his best to get himself under control as he held on to the phone, listening to the sound of his friend's voice.
"It has nothing to do with you," Marky said softly, the words somehow slicing through his pain. "The way your parents feel or felt is their problem, not yours. You are worthy of being loved and always have been. I've loved you almost from the day we met, and you're my best friend." He heard Marky's voice break on the other end of the line. "And you know I could never love a loser, so you just need to get over yourself." Marky sniffled as Steven looked around the room, reaching for a tissue from the box next to the bed.
"I don't know why I'm so emotional all the time," Steven said after taking a deep breath and wiping his running nose.
"It's that place," Marky huffed in exasperation. "I told you to stay here where we love you, but nooooo," Marky crooned, and Steven couldn't help smiling at his friend's antics. The man was the biggest queen he knew, and Steven loved him for it. "There's a lot of hurt there that you haven't dealt with, and it's probably catching up with you," he added seriously. "But don't worry about it. Just have a good time with Lane." Steven loved how Marky could change topics on a dime. "By the way, you have to tell me all about him. Is he hot? You said you met him at the gym---have you seen him naked yet?"
"Yes and yes," Steven answered, his face breaking into a smile. "He's broad and tall with muscles to die for and a tattoo that covers his shoulder...." Steven told Marky what he knew about Lane, leaving out certain details that he wasn't about to divulge no matter how many times the big queen asked.
"I was thinking of coming out for a visit this summer," Marky told him. "I have vacation in June."
"That would be great," Steven said, already feeling his spirits perk up. "Hopefully I'll have a house by then. Tomorrow I have some appointments with the Realtor to see some places, and if I'm lucky, there'll be something I like." Steven went on to tell Marky everything that had happened since the last time they'd talked, and by the time he hung up, Steven was feeling much better and a lot less alone.
Steven pulled off his shirt, looking in the closet to see if he had anything clean that he liked better. He'd already tried on almost every pair of pants and every clean shirt he had with him, and he still wasn't sure he looked okay. He wished he'd thought to ask Lane where they were going, but he hadn't, so he wanted to look dressy, but not too dressy. God, he was going to go crazy. Finally, he pulled on the shirt he'd just taken off and decided that was that. Picking up the rest of his clothes, he hung them back in the closet. This was it and he'd made a decision. Pulling out a leather jacket from the closet, he closed the door. He checked himself in the bathroom mirror before taking his keys and wallet from the table and leaving the room.
In the lobby, he looked around and didn't see Lane until the man stood up, moving away from one of the chairs near the fireplace. He looked stunning in black jeans and a black silk shirt that shimmered slightly in the light. "You look nice," Lane said softly, and Steven smiled, the look on Lane's face telling him Lane wasn't just saying that.
"So do you." Steven didn't move, looking into Lane's eyes, taking him in, and seeing Lane doing the same thing. "Where are we going for dinner?" he asked softly, not really wanting to break the spell, but he figured the people around them were going to start wondering what was going on pretty soon.
"I know this small, out-of-the-way Italian place, and I thought we could go there if that's okay." Lane nearly fidgeted, and Steven smiled, seeing that Lane was as nervous as he was.
"I love Italian," Steven said, and it was Lane's turn to smile. Pulling on his jacket, Steven followed Lane out of the lobby and to his car, figuring he'd let him drive since Lane knew where the restaurant was. He'd expected a flashy car, but Lane drove a basic sedan. After Lane unlocked the doors, Steven got inside and waited. Lane opened his door before climbing into the driver's seat, but he didn't start the car right away, and to Steven's surprise, Lane leaned across the seat, touching his cheek lightly as he kissed him.
Steven felt the light, almost sweet touch of Lane's kiss. He blinked twice, making sure this was real, but Lane was still kissing him, and Steven knew it wasn't a figment of his imagination. Lane's seat crinkled slightly, and the kiss lessened before fading away. Opening his eyes and blinking, Steven saw Lane's eyes shining back at him, and he swallowed hard, almost unable to breathe. "Why?" he murmured just above his breath. A kiss had been the last thing he'd expected, even after the way Lane had looked at him in the lobby.
"Why not, Steven?" Lane asked, still looking at him.
"I guess I expected you to be more reticent. Kissing is safe, but...." A finger touched his lips, and Steven leaned into the light touch before he could stop himself, hearing a small gasp from Lane. Tilting his head slightly, Steven let his confusion show in his expression.
"No one has touched you in a long time, have they?" Lane asked softly, and Steven lowered his eyes. "Not since you found out, right?"
Steven nodded his answer before shrugging. "That part of my life is over, remember?"
Lane shook his head. "No, it's not." Lane's hand lifted his uninjured one, fingers sliding along Steven's, warm skin making soft contact. "You deserve to be touched and kissed and held just as much as the next person." Lane's grasp tightened just a little to make his point. "I know I hurt you last week, and I'm sorry. I can only claim ignorance." Lane's fingers slipped away from Steven's, and then he felt the soft touch of skin on his arm, caressing gently before drifting away again. Slowly, Lane turned and started the car, but Steven could almost still feel Lane's warmth on his skin. Sitting back, he watched Lane as they rode toward the restaurant, talking about nothing, but making it feel important.
The drive to the restaurant took longer than Steven expected, since it involved a trip to the far east side of Harrisburg. They pulled into what looked like a shopping center with a small restaurant at the end. "It may not look like much, but they have the best Italian food in town. It's family-owned, with mom and grandma doing most of the cooking."
"Sounds good," Steven replied to Lane's explanation before opening his door and getting out of the car. They walked together across the parking lot, Lane holding the restaurant door for him, and they were seated right away at a table in one of the corners. The restaurant appeared clean and fresh, with pictures on the walls and none of the kitschy Italian touches that so often took over places like this. Their server brought menus and filled their water glasses before taking drink orders. "This is really nice," Steven complimented.
"The food is even better," Lane said with a smile before looking over his menu. Steven noticed that Lane set his aside pretty quickly. Steven took a few minutes before settling on the veal piccata and putting down his menu too. "Did you have a nice afternoon?"
"I guess," Steven answered. "I went to lunch with Dan and then hung around the hotel. I worked a little." Very little. His mind wouldn't let him settle, but he didn't really want to tell Lane all that. "I saw my mother at the restaurant. She recognized me. Well, I think she did anyway."
The server brought their drinks. "Did you talk to her?" Lane asked once the server had left.
"No. It's been too long." Steven didn't really want to get into this, but couldn't seem to find a graceful way to change the subject. "I spoke to my best friend, and he said I should go see her."
"You had told me it's been a long time."
"Yeah, and I'm not sure I want to open everything up again." Steven gulped his water, trying to think of something else to talk about.
"If you don't mind my saying, I think it may already be opened up. If just seeing her briefly is weighing on your mind, then it might be best to go for a visit and find out where things stand. You don't have anything to lose, and your parents just might surprise you. I bet they've missed you all these years but didn't know how to approach you, either."
Steven scoffed. "Somehow I doubt that."
"You won't find out until you try," Lane said, and Steven glowered at him for a second. He could almost see Lane mentally backing off, his eyes shifting from Steven's to the table. He hadn't meant to make Lane feel bad.
"Sorry," Steven said. "It's not your fault. It just seems that lately everyone has advice about what I should do, and I think I simply need some time to think."
"No, I shouldn't have pushed. It's one of the things that make me a good physical therapist, but it gets in the way sometimes." Lane didn't say anything more. "Let's change the subject. You told me you got in shape in college. Did you ever play any sports?"
Steven felt the tension lift like a stage curtain. "I played golf a few times, but it bored me to tears. I had some friends who decided to take up racquetball, and they convinced me to play with them." Steven smiled at the memory. "The first time I served, the ball hit the back wall and bounced right back, smacking me on the forehead." Steven saw Lane stifle a laugh and chuckled at the memory. "I realized right then that it wasn't my game."
"That really happened?"
"Swear to God. I had a bruise in the middle of my forehead for a week." Steven laughed. "I was always a bit of a klutz when it came to balls. The only balls I was ever good with are attached." Lane, who'd reached for his water, swallowed quickly, looking like he was about to spray the table, and Steven handed him a napkin, chuckling. Lane wiped his mouth, setting his glass on the table, still smiling. "Eventually I gave up and just lifted weights." He'd also found out very quickly that with slimming down and building his muscles came a lot of attention, especially once his skin cleared and he got over his shyness. A hedonistic buffet had opened to him, and he'd gorged himself.
"In college I played football for a couple years, but gave it up. I may have been a star in high school, but I learned pretty quickly that in college, the price was too high, the pressure to perform at the expense of everything else too great," Lane explained and then chuckled, and Steven waited to learn the source of his amusement. "It's sort of ironic---in college, you discovered the benefits of exercise, and I discovered I had a brain and learned how to use it. I dropped the rigorous sports regimen and really worked hard in my junior and senior years. I also managed to combine both experiences in physical therapy because I specialize in sports rehabilitation. I see more kids with over-use injuries because the coaches simply work these kids until their bodies can't take any more. Then they just move on."
"Did you have any permanent injuries? I know I hurt myself early on and spent time nursing sore shoulders." Steven's hand reflexively went to his left shoulder, rubbing slightly. "It still aches sometimes when I move just right." Their server returned, bringing bread and taking their orders, refilling their drinks.
"Where were we?" Lane asked once the server had left. "Oh yeah. By the time I was through with football, I had knee problems, neck problems, and my shoulders ached all the time. When I went to the doctors, they told me I'd quit just before I did permanent damage. They sent me to therapy, and I went for almost a year before the pain was largely gone." Lane's voice had slowly risen, and Steven could tell this was something he felt very strongly about. "That's why I teach my personal training clients proper form first and foremost."
"I hadn't really noticed that," Steven said, coloring slightly, and he saw Lane's eyebrows rise questioningly. Steven picked up his glass as cover, but Lane kept looking at him and wasn't going to let it go. "I'm usually too busy looking at you," Steven added, trying to keep himself from blushing like a schoolkid, especially since his mind flashed on the image of Lane naked as he got out of the shower. Thankfully, their server returned with their salads, and that gave Steven a chance to concentrate on something else, or so he thought.
"So you were looking at me," Lane commented mischievously between bites.
"You know I was, so you don't have to be all coy and stuff," Steven retorted before chomping on a bite of lettuce. "In fact, you were a downright show-off if you want to know the truth." He'd definitely been showing off in the shower, but Steven kept that to himself, and now it was Lane's turn to blush slightly under his richly colored skin.
After they finished their salads, the server took their plates, replacing them with their main courses. Steven felt surprisingly at ease, and for the first time he could remember in the past two years, he found he'd completely forgotten about what he'd come to think of as his condition. Since his diagnosis, it had never been far from his thoughts, but here with Lane, that worry and immediacy seemed to recede, and he could laugh and just be. It felt good.
The rest of dinner flew by in a blur of laughter and stories he hadn't told anyone in years. The food, the conversation, everything combined to make one of the best evenings he could remember. With their plates cleared, they lingered over a cup of coffee before Lane reached for the check. "I asked you to dinner," he scolded lightly when Steven balked, placing his credit card in the folder and handing it to the server before Steven could complain further.
With the check paid, they left the restaurant, heading back to Lane's car. Steven didn't know what Lane had planned next, but he was curious and didn't really want the evening to end, so when Lane drove them back to his hotel, disappointment bloomed in his chest. Lane parked in one of the spaces and turned off the car. Steven stared out the windshield, trying not to let his feelings show on his face. A gentle touch to his cheek made him turn, and Lane leaned closer, kissing him again. This time Lane unfastened his seatbelt, scooting closer, deepening the kiss as his hand stroked the skin of Steven's arm. Steven moaned softly, deep in his throat, and Lane backed away. Steven blinked, wondering if he'd done something wrong, but Lane smiled and opened his door. Getting out of the car, he walked around to Steven's side and opened the door, following behind him as he walked into his hotel.
"I have beer in my room if you'd like one," Steven offered, hoping Lane would stick around a little while.
"That'd be nice," Lane said as he followed him down the hallway, waiting until Steven opened his door. Once inside the room, the door closed and Lane pulled him close, kissing him again. At first Steven felt as though he should resist, but Lane felt too good holding him and kissing him. The room seemed to fill with all these soft sounds, and very quickly, Steven realized they were coming from him. Then Lane softened the kiss, their mouths separating, but his arms still holding him. "Have you had anyone touch you in the last two years?"
"You mean like doctors? Yeah, plenty."
"No, I mean like someone who cares for you." Steven shook his head. "I thought so. You act completely touch-starved, like you've craved someone's touch for months and months."
"It's not safe," Steven said softly, his resistance crumbling quickly.
"Touch is perfectly safe as long as you or I don't have any open wounds. I don't, do you?"
Steven shook his head. "Only my hand and it's nearly healed." Steven showed him, the skin red, but closed. Lane tightened his arms around him, and Steven rested his head against Lane's shoulders, holding him back. He found he desperately needed to be close to someone, and he wanted it to be Lane, but he still wasn't sure.
"Do you trust me, Steven?" Lane asked, and Steven found himself looking into those deep eyes.
Steven thought for a few moments. Did he trust Lane? With their history, he knew he probably shouldn't, but that was a long time ago, and surprisingly, Steven found that he did trust him. If Lane could overcome his initial fear enough to kiss him, then maybe a degree of trust was justified. "Yes," Steven answered softly, feeling Lane guide him toward the bed, and this time Steven balked, his body stiffening.
"Trust me, Steven. I will do nothing to hurt you or endanger either of us, but you need this. You need to feel cared for, and you need to feel truly alive again." Lane's words washed over him like a warm Caribbean wave, carrying him as Lane pressed him down onto the bed, continuing to kiss him. The bed dipped beneath him and his head sank into the pillow as Steven felt one of Lane's hands beneath his shirt, his warm hand against his skin, moving in slow, small circles.
"Lane, you know I can never...." Steven didn't know how to say what he wanted without breaking the spell Lane seemed to be weaving around them. Thankfully, Lane seemed to understand.
"There are many ways to show affection, and most of them do not involve fucking," Lane told him, his breath flowing warmly over Steven's lips. "Will you let me show you?"
"Yes." Steven was already too far gone to think of resisting anything. Lane's gentle touch had awakened a need in him he hadn't even known was missing. He'd written off intimacy from his life and hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it. Steven arched lightly into Lane's touch as that strong hand roamed further up his chest, fingers bumping lightly over his nipples.
"Just relax," Lane crooned, his voice soothing, wrapping him in a blanket of vocal warmth. "Close your eyes, let your cares go, and release all the tension from your muscles." Steven did as Lane asked, everything going dark as his eyelids seemed heavy all of a sudden. "That's it," Lane encouraged as Steven felt fingers working the buttons of his shirt. Cool air flowed over his skin, and he shivered, but not entirely from the chill, as his shirt parted. Heat spread over his skin as he heard and felt Lane place kisses along his stomach, and he did his best not to giggle and squirm as Lane's tongue tickled his flesh. "Ticklish, are you?" Thankfully, Lane moved on, fingers finding spots that made him moan and wriggle on the bed.
The sensation stopped, and Steven fought an urge to open his eyes and look around. Then hands, firm and sure, gripped his arm, fingers working deeply into his muscles until lifting it felt like a chore. The other got the same treatment before the magic hands pulled away again. This time, he waited, wondering what was next, but drawing pleasure from the unexpected.
A chink, pressure around his waist, and his pants opened. Steven wanted to caution Lane again, but didn't want to break the spell. He felt his pants lower and lifted his hips, letting Lane pull his pants off, and then warm hands massaged his legs, working deep into muscle. Starting at his feet, thumbs pressed against the bottoms, stroking from heel to toe, working the tension away, then his ankle and calf, the muscles letting go. Steven's mind began to float as Lane's hands worked the muscles on one of his thighs. A tremble went through him as Lane's fingers worked between his legs before retreating again. Steven didn't have to open his eyes to know his boxers were probably tented. "Do you know how stunning you look right now?" Lane asked, his hands not stopping or even breaking their long, slow rhythm. "Your eyes closed, skin flushed, body relaxed and excited at the same time." Lane's hands skipped to his other leg, working away the tension.
"When did you learn to do this?" Steven mumbled through his haze of relaxed desire.
"It's part of being a good therapist. One of the requirements is having magic fingers," Lane said, and Steven felt those fingers skim along the fabric of his boxers, making him gasp as he demonstrated just how magical those fingers could be. Steven bit his lower lip to keep from crying out.
When he was done, Lane gently rolled him over. His face buried in the pillow, Steven felt the bed shake as Lane stepped off, and he heard muffled sounds, then he felt what seemed to be a leg slide along his as Lane's weight settled just below his hips. "I found some lotion," Lane whispered softly, leaning forward, and Steven gasped as he felt Lane's chest press to his back, warm skin touching his. His first reaction was concern, and then Lane began to hum very softly, pressing them together, and Steven pressed back, needing to intensify the contact. He was lost and he knew it.
Lane's weight lifted, settling back, before cool, lotioned hands worked from his lower back all the way to his shoulders. With each long, firm stroke, Steven found himself moaning, willing Lane's hands not to stop. And they didn't. All sense of time fell away as Steven gave himself completely into Lane's hands. His boxers slipped away, and Steven barely comprehended it. Lane's massage extended to his butt and the very top of his lower legs. Skin he figured would never be touched by another person was languidly and lovingly worked until he felt his body had nearly turned to water.
"How do you feel now?" Lane asked him, and Steven sighed deeply, expelling every bit of air from his lungs before inhaling a deep, cleansing breath. "That's better. Keep doing that as you roll onto your back again. Keep your eyes closed and trust me." Steven managed a nod as his blissful state left him completely malleable. Lane's weight shifted, and Steven heard a soft tear. Gasping softly, he felt Lane's hand glide down his shaft, leaving tightness behind. "Trust me, remember," Lane soothed, and Steven realized Lane had rolled a condom onto him. "I want you to give yourself to me." Lane's lips touched his in a searing kiss that Steven felt deep inside as a slick hand slipped around his length, gripping hard, his cry swallowed by their kiss.
Steven could barely breathe as Lane's hands played his body like an instrument. After giving up on contact like this for so long, it was as though his very skin cried out for it, and the slight twisting motion Lane used with his hands made spots flash behind Steven's closed eyes. "What about you?" he asked softly, feeling rather selfish.
"I'll be fine," Lane answered, his hand moving faster, driving Steven wild, his hips bucking into Lane's hand. "You're so beautiful like this," Lane told him, "all laid out for me, trusting me. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life." Steven's mind soared at those words, his loose muscles contracting as his release built from deep in his being. Lane tightened his grip, stroking Steven harder, driving the release that he could no longer control. Crying out as his emotions broke along with his control, he came, tears leaking from behind his eyelids.
Steven gasped for breath as the lights behind his eyes dulled and what sounded like the roar of the ocean in his ears died away. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by Lane's eyes shining back in the light of the small desk lamp. "And you?" Steven asked, propping himself up on his elbows, seeing the wet spot on the front of Lane's briefs. "I guess I shouldn't worry."
"No." Lane climbed off the bed, standing nearby. "It's probably best if you clean yourself up."
Steven got off the bed, his legs feeling like limp noodles as he made his way to the bathroom. Stripping off the condom, he threw it away and cleaned himself up, carefully washing his skin before staring at himself in the mirror. His skin still tingled from Lane's touch, and he couldn't remember that happening before, but maybe he just wasn't remembering. Turning off the light, he stepped out, half expecting Lane to be pulling on his pants, getting ready to leave.
Instead, he saw him reclining on the bed, naked and beautiful, lying on his side, head resting on his hand with the covers pulled back. Lane patted the bed in front of him, and Steven stepped forward, letting Lane tug him into the bed, pulling the covers over both of them.
"I don't have to stay if you'd rather I leave," Lane said softly, but Steven didn't answer, burrowing closer to the warmth in his bed in the air-conditioned room.
"I was going to say something similar to you," Steven told him, glad that Lane was staying with him. He'd rarely had men he'd been intimate with stay the night. "You made me feel...." Steven's voice trailed off as he found it difficult to put what Lane had done to him into words.
"I think that says it well enough---I made you feel. You've shut yourself off for a long time, Steven. It's time you let yourself feel again, and maybe start to live again."
Steven nodded against Lane's chest, his hands skimming lightly over his bronzed skin. "I'm just so scared of passing this on to someone else. It's hard when the safest thing for everyone is for me to keep to myself and not put anyone at risk."
Lane stroked his belly. "You're not Typhoid Mary, and you don't need to be locked away from the rest of humanity. You don't have to lock your heart away, either." Lane huffed lightly. "I know my own track record in that area isn't the greatest, but I felt something tonight---not just when we were in bed, but at dinner, and whenever you smile at me." Lane's face moved closer to his, their kiss soft and sweet. "You, lying on this bed, all smooth skin with your eyes closed and your mouth open in wonder was the sexiest, hottest sight I could ever hope to see. You showed me tonight that there are few things more wonderful than being trusted like that."
Steven didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, taking the words and holding on to them. He wasn't sure he'd hear them again, and he wanted to remember them. Settling next to Lane, he let himself enjoy being held, his skin caressed. Right now, if he were a cat, he'd be purring.
Lane slipped out of the bed, and Steven watched him through half-lidded eyes, taking in his skin and strength and the loveliest behind he'd ever seen. The light clicked off and Lane walked back to the bed, rejoining him, arms wrapping around him without saying a word. Steven closed his eyes, listening to Lane's soft breathing.
Steven hummed softly to himself as he finished the last of his work for the week. He'd actually found a house earlier in the week and made an offer. He and the sellers had gone back and forth a few times before agreeing on a price. The seller's expectations had been unrealistic, and it had taken some time for Steven to wear them down, but he had. He was humming now, because Lane had asked if he could see the house, and Steven had made arrangements with the sellers to take measurements that evening. It made him happy that Lane wanted to see what would be his new home. Turning off his computer, Steven grabbed his jacket and computer bag, saying good night to his team before leaving the office.
Normally, he'd drive to the gym to meet the guys, but tonight he hurried to his car so he could meet the Realtor and Lane at the house. Traffic held him up, but there was nothing he could do, and he arrived a few minutes late, recognizing Lane's and his Realtor's cars. Getting out, he greeted both of them, introducing Lane to Debbie. "The owners are away for the weekend, making their moving plans, so you can take your time," she told them, and Steven felt a stab of excitement run through him.
"It looks nice, Steven," Lane told him as they approached the sidewalk in front. "I'm thinking there's even space for a few chairs on the front porch."
"Yes," Debbie said, "and the entire house was painted last year."
Steven saw Lane look up. "I'm not being mean, but it looks like half a house."
Steven laughed as Debbie explained, "It is, sort of. The house is half of a double house, but the other side was never constructed. The house was built in 1898, and the builder apparently had the plans for a full double house, but just built the one side. Come around to the backyard before we go inside---I want you to see the garden." Debbie started toward the side of the house. "I spent some time with the sellers' Realtor yesterday, and he told me that the previous owners had the brick tuck-pointed two years ago. At the same time they had the gutters and porch roof replaced." She approached the gate, pushing it open as she continued talking. "The owners did all the gardening themselves." Debbie turned to him, and Steven pulled his eyes away from the house to the small immaculate yard on three levels.
"This is amazing," Lane whispered softly.
Steven stood on the first level with its patio shaded by large trees around the edge, looking toward the second level with its small lawn bordered by beds filled with blooms, and then down to the third level with its colonial knot garden around a small fountain. The entire yard was made private by a manicured hedge. "It feels almost like a secret place," Steven murmured to himself before turning to Lane. "When I saw the house before, it was already dark, and we really couldn't see much back here."
"I probably would have bought the house just for this garden," Lane told him, bursting into a huge smile.
Leaving the garden reluctantly, Steven followed Debbie around to the front. The house wasn't huge, by any means, but it had felt cozy to Steven. And when he'd first walked through the front door, something deep inside told him he was home, and he got that same feeling now as he stepped into the nice-sized living room. "The sellers asked to take the draperies, so you'll want to think about what you'd like to do," Debbie told him, and Steven nodded almost absently as Lane squeezed his hand.
"I love that the woodwork was never painted," Lane said as he looked around the room, and Steven found himself following his gaze, sort of feeling the way he'd always thought he'd feel looking at a first house with a partner, but he pushed that aside. It was way too soon for thoughts like that.
"There's a big dining room and a nice-sized kitchen," Steven commented as he wandered through the first floor. Leaving Debbie in the living room, he and Lane wandered through the rest of the lower floor. "What do you think?"
"It's very nice," Lane said, opening the laundry room door off the kitchen. "Someone has taken good care of this house." Lane closed the door again. "You're really excited about this, aren't you?"
"Yeah. This is my first real house. In Chicago, all I could afford was a condo, but now I'll have my own yard and everything." Steven could hear the excitement in his own voice, and Lane leaned toward him, giving him a quick kiss. "Let's go upstairs."
Debbie waited in the living room as they both climbed the stairs, looking in each of the two bedrooms. "The one thing this house doesn't have that I wish it did is a fireplace," Steven commented as he walked into what would be the guest room before walking to the master bedroom. The room was large enough for a queen-size bed. "The wallpaper in both these rooms needs to go, but I can do that." Steven turned around and found himself wrapped in Lane's arms, his eyes closing as Lane leaned in for a deep kiss. Suddenly, he'd spent enough time exploring the house and was ready to leave, but not until Lane stopped kissing him, which didn't seem like anytime soon---and that was fine with him.
Eventually, though, they parted, and Steven led them back down the stairs and saw the quizzical look on Debbie's face. He must have had one of those just-kissed looks, because Debbie's mouth turned to a grin as she walked toward the front door, both of them following her out.
After confirming their upcoming appointments, Debbie left with a wave. "Would you like to get some dinner?" Steven asked, and Lane nodded. "I haven't had a chance to explore the area really well, but we can probably find something to eat."
"Why don't we drive back near your hotel? There are restaurants there, and afterwards we can go to your place." Lane's expression left no doubt about what he had in mind.
Pulling into the parking lot of the small sandwich shop near his hotel half an hour later, Steven saw Lane's car and parked next to it. He found Lane sitting at a table inside. Steven sat down, still excited from seeing his future home again. Their server came to the table. "Can I get you drinks awhile?" she asked in her best central Pennsylvania vernacular, cracking her gum.
"Would you give us a minute?" Lane asked, turning to Steven when she was gone. "Do you really want to eat here?"
Steven looked at the menu before shaking his head. "Not really."
"Then let's go," Lane threw a dollar on the table, and they walked to the exit. "Park your car at your hotel, and I'll meet you there in a few minutes." Lane got in his car and Steven did the same, pulling out and driving the short distance to the hotel. Getting out, he looked around, and a few minutes later, saw Lane's car pull to a stop near him.
"Where are we going?" Steven asked once he was buckled in, but Lane was already pulling out of the lot.
"Someplace really special, "Lane answered with a wicked grin, speeding out onto the street before accelerating onto the freeway. Ten minutes later, they were traveling through a residential area, and Steven wondered what kind of restaurant they could be heading for when they pulled up in front of a suburban house.
"Lane?"
He turned in the seat. "This is my mom's. I called her, and she told me to come for dinner and invited you as well."
Steven swallowed hard. "Lane, you want me to meet your mother---now? I'm not dressed for that, and I don't have anything for her."
"You don't need anything, and you look fine."
"Lane, I am not going to meet your mother empty-handed." Steven put his arms over his chest. "You could have warned me, you know. At least you could have let me change my shirt at the hotel." He glared across the seat, seeing some of the light go out of Lane's expression, and he breathed out slowly, knowing Lane had meant well. "Is there a grocery store nearby?"
"Yes."
"Then let's go there. At least I can get some flowers or something." Steven let his face soften. He hadn't really been angry, just taken a bit by surprise. Reaching across the seat, Steven touched Lane's leg, squeezing lightly. Lane started the engine, driving him to the store. "Do you want to go in with me?"
"Sure," Lane told him as he found a place to park. "I really didn't mean to spring this on you. I was going to call for a reservation at a restaurant, then my mom called and wouldn't take no for an answer. I told her I was with someone, and she said, quote, 'Bring him along'. My mother knows me pretty well."
"Okay, but I'm still not arriving empty-handed." Steven opened his door and waited for Lane before going into the large store. He headed right for the flower area, picking out a bouquet of bright spring flowers. After paying for them, Steven walked toward the exit, turning to smile at Lane. "Now I'm ready to meet your mother, but I still wish I'd had a chance to change clothes."
Lane huffed exaggeratedly, but smiled back, saying, "You're not going to let me off the hook for that, are you?"
Steven opened his door, sliding into the seat, waiting for Lane to join him in the car. "You can make it up to me later." Steven could hardly believe he was being so forward. Yes, he and Lane had spent time together, but he couldn't let himself get too emotionally involved. Steven figured that Lane would wake up one day soon and realize that being with him was just too much trouble.
"I'll be sure to remember that," Lane told him as he drove back the way they had come, parking in front of the house. Steven got out of the car, following Lane up the walk to the front door. Lane opened it and walked inside while Steven hung back, not feeling completely comfortable.
"Come in, young man," the woman Steven assumed was Lane's mother said as she appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on an apron.
"Hello, Mrs. Parkinson," Steven said, handing her the flowers. "I'm Steven and it's nice to meet you." Steven could see where Lane got his looks---in her day his mother had obviously been quite a looker, with high cheekbones and bright eyes.
"Please, call me Evelyn. Being called Mrs. Parkinson reminds me of my mother-in-law, and that woman is best left forgotten," she said, and Steven saw where Lane got his incredible smile. He shook her hand, and she ushered him into her living room, filled with the pictures and memories of a lifetime, including pictures of a man in uniform.
"That's my dad," Lane explained, picking up one of the photographs. "He was killed during the first Gulf war." Lane looked far away for a few seconds and then set the picture back on the table.
"You two must be hungry. Come on into the kitchen. I've got salads ready, and the steaks are ready for the broiler." She hurried around the kitchen, placing a huge bowl of salad on the table along with fresh rolls and bottles of salad dressing. A mountain of mashed potatoes appeared as well before Evelyn opened the oven door, the sound and smell of sizzling steaks filling the room. Steven felt his stomach rumble, but waited along with Lane for Evelyn to join them. "Go ahead and eat," she told them, "I'll be along in a minute." Steven watched as Lane began dishing up salad, passing him the bowl before passing the rolls as well. Neither of them ate until Evelyn joined them.
"So, Steven," Evelyn said once she sat down, her eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief as she set down her fork, "how did you meet my son?"
Steven gulped slightly, swallowing his bite of creamy mashed potatoes, wondering if that look was directed at him or not. "We knew each other in high school, sort of, but I really met him a few weeks ago at the gym. My job moved me back to town."
"You know my son is gay," she said matter-of-factly, and Steven could tell Lane's mother was a bit of a rascal.
"Yes." Steven tried not to look at Lane, but couldn't help himself. "At least, I hope so, after last night." He winked at Lane and saw him squirm on his chair, but the comment didn't seem to faze Evelyn in the least.
"Good. I worried about him for the longest time. I knew he was gay for years before he told me." She leaned closer, and Steven wondered which of Lane's secrets she was about to reveal now. "I kept hoping he'd say something, but he didn't. Instead he got meaner and more withdrawn."
"Mom, Steven doesn't need to hear about all this."
"Okay, okay," she responded before continuing to eat. Regardless of what she said, it was obvious by the looks she gave her son that Evelyn was very proud of Lane. "So, is Steven your boyfriend?"
"Yes, Mom," Lane answered right away, and Steven felt his eyes widen slightly before doing his best to keep the look of pleasant surprise off his face. He hadn't thought of Lane as his boyfriend, but it pleased him immensely that Lane thought of him that way. He'd been trying to keep his feelings for Lane under control, and regardless, he knew they'd grown, anyway. Steven was both relieved and pleased that he wasn't alone. "Steven is very special."
"I knew that," she added softly. "You've never brought your boyfriends home before." She turned her attention to the table, looking at Lane's and then Steven's plate. "Eat up, there's plenty more." She reached across the table, patting Steven's hand. "You're both way too skinny. Need some meat on your bones." Her hand slipped away, and Steven took a second helping of potatoes to make her happy, knowing he'd have to work extra hard at the gym tomorrow. "Are your parents still in town?" Evelyn asked, and Steven felt a sharp pang of loss.
"Steven's folks live in the area, but he hasn't really seen them in years. They don't accept him." Lane looked sad, and Steven felt Lane touch his knee under the table.
"I haven't seen them since I went away to college. I send a card at the holidays every year, but I haven't heard from them in over a decade."
"That's terrible," Evelyn said indignantly, looking at Lane, eyes blazing. Steven could tell she wanted to say more, but thankfully she went back to her food, attacking her slice of meat, fork scraping the plate.
"It's been a long time," Steven said, trying not to sigh. "Things are the way they are. So, Evelyn, what do you do?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Mom's a photographer," Lane answered proudly.
"I do portraits and weddings now. I used to do art shows and things like that right after Lane left for college, but not anymore," she answered, very excited. "I get all kinds of commissions." A wry smile formed on her face. "I even get people who want me to take boudoir pictures."
"Do you do those?"
"Of course," she answered brightly. "I had a man who wanted me to take pictures of him for his partner's fortieth birthday present. He was very handsome, and a few months later, both he and his partner had portraits taken. Can you image me alone with two gorgeous half-naked men? It was fabulous, and they were so nice and very loving to one another." Evelyn patted Lane's hand. "That's what I want for you."
Steven had finished eating and couldn't eat another bite. Getting up from the table, he helped carry the dishes into the kitchen over Evelyn's protests before settling on a chair in the living room, where she brought in coffee and a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies. "You're trying to make me fat, aren't you?" Steven said to Evelyn with a grin as he took a cookie. "I can never resist these."
"Extra gym time tomorrow," Lane told him with a wink, waiting until Evelyn left the room before adding, "you'll need the energy later." Steven somehow kept from blushing as Evelyn came back into the room. They spent time just talking, with Evelyn telling him stories of what Lane was like as a child, and to his surprise, he could see much more of the Lane he knew now in those stories than the Lane he recalled from his high school memories. It was comforting.
"We should get going," Lane told his mother as he stood up, taking his and Steven's dishes to the kitchen before returning to take his mother's, as well. Evelyn hugged Lane goodbye, and to Steven's surprise, she hugged him too.
"Come back again soon," she told him before giving him another squeeze, then letting her arms slide away.
"I will. Thank you," Steven answered before following Lane out of the house and down the walk to the car. "Your mom is great," Steven told Lane once he had his seatbelt fastened.
"That she is," Lane agreed with a smile and started the car. "I couldn't have asked for anyone more supporting or caring."
Steven couldn't help wishing he'd had that kind of support from his own family. But he hadn't, and there was nothing he could do to change that. It was best not to dwell on it. "Where are we going?" Steven asked when he realized they weren't heading back to his hotel.
"My place," Lane answered, and Steven felt a surge of energetic desire shoot through him as he found himself nodding, not daring to actually say anything. A short, silent drive later, Lane pulled up in front of his place, leading Steven inside. He'd been here before, finding it clean and modern, but sort of empty. Steven couldn't place why, but it felt rather sterile and unlike Lane. Not that he had much time to think about it, because as soon as the door closed, Lane had him pressed back against it, hands under his shirt, drawing it up and over his head. As soon as the blue fabric slipped over his eyes, he felt Lane's lips on his. To say it was a kiss was an understatement---it felt almost like a possession, like Lane was staking his claim, and that if Steven didn't say something now, he was going to quickly lose his chance. Arms around Lane's waist, Steven held on, and Lane moved closer, his big body holding him tight, his scent filling Steven's senses as Steven's head began to reel.
"Lane," Steven gasped softly, his breath ragged, knees beginning to buckle.
"I know," he answered, hugging Steven tight as he moved them through the house and into the bedroom. The door closed behind them, and Steven tried to figure out where he was in the dark room, but between Lane nuzzling his neck and soft fingers tweaking his nipples, thoughts of everything except what Lane was doing to him flew from his mind.
"What are you doing to me?" Steven gasped, unable to ever remember feeling all floaty, as his legs gave out from beneath him. First, he felt as though he were falling, and then he was being caught, the bed stopping him, Lane kissing him. Something clicked inside him, he wasn't sure what, but he gave his pleasure over to Lane. The pillow cushioned his head as he felt Lane open his pants before pulling them down his legs. With a soft click, a dim light switched on, and Steven looked up into Lane's eyes, unable to decipher the warm look that greeted him. Steven knew what he hoped it was, but he couldn't quite let his heart believe.
"Steven, what is it?" Lane asked, barely above a whisper.
He rocked his head on the pillow and saw that expression intensify. "I can't...."
"Can't what?" Lane asked him, eyes on his, the hand that had been stroking lightly coming to a rest on Steven's belly.
Steven swallowed, trying to find the words. "I keep wondering when I'm going to wake up, or when you are."
"I don't understand," Lane told him, his expression turning to one of confusion.
Steven struggled to a seated position, tugging the bedspread around him. "I keep thinking this is a dream and I know it isn't, so then I keep wondering when you're going to wake up and realize you could have so much more than me."
"More than you?" Lane tried to meet his eyes, but Steven kept looking away. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'The heart wants what the heart wants'?" Steven nodded---he had, sort of. "What does your heart say?"
Steven looked toward the wall for a second. He knew what he felt, and it scared him. What if Lane doesn't feel the same way? Lane's hand slipped away from his skin, and the warmth went with it, drawing him back, and he realized this was one of those do-or-die, man-or-mouse moments. "It says that I love you," Steven told him before he lost his nerve. "But what if... Lane, what if I give you what I've got? What if...." Steven felt the fear build inside him. Blinking, he tried to keep his emotions under control.
"People have lived for years with partners who have HIV with no issues. You know that. It just means we have to be careful."
"It means more than that. It means I could die, and it means that one mistake and you could die." Steven clutched the blanket around himself like a shield.
"Steven," Lane cooed softly, "it also means I love you too."
Steven stopped, blinking a few times as he took in what Lane had told him. Slowly, his fingers released the bedspread, the fabric falling away as he reached for Lane, who moved back slightly, confusing Steven. "What?"
"You have to trust that I know what I want and what I'm doing, Steven. I haven't felt this way about anyone, and definitely never after just a few weeks." Lane moved closer, his touch returning. "You need to let go of the fear and trust that I know my own heart."
"It's not yours I'm worried about."
"I know." Lane pulled away the last of the bedspread that was covering Steven before easing him back down on the bed. "But you have to trust me with that, too, just like I have to trust you with mine."
Steven agreed as Lane kissed him again. "Someone's wearing way too many clothes," Steven said, and he watched as Lane got off the bed. Steven figured he'd strip quickly and join him, but Lane stepped back, slowly opening his shirt, a huge grin on his face. Steven reached for Lane, but he stepped just out of reach. "Just watch, baby. Don't touch me or yourself," Lane told him as he swayed his hips ever so slightly. Steven groaned softly as Lane pulled his shirt open, shrugging it off before dropping it on the floor. Smooth, tanned skin with the slightest sheen glistened in the light. Shoes came next, thunking onto the floor as Lane kicked them off. Lane's fingers unfastened his belt, pulling it off before it joined the rest.
"Lane," Steven pleaded softly, his fingers aching to touch the smooth, warm skin. Turning around, Lane opened his pants, sliding them down his legs while giving Steven a perfect view of his tight, firm butt. Damn, that was beautiful. Taking off his pants, Lane turned around, his briefs bulging.
Steven swallowed around the lump in his throat as Lane stepped closer. Aching to touch, Steven reached out to Lane with his hand, and this time Lane didn't back away as Steven's hand stroked along the silky skin on his chest and down his stomach. Curling his fingers beneath the elastic, Steven tugged down Lane's briefs. Lane stepped out of them and climbed onto the bed, pulling Steven into his arms. Skin to skin, lips to lips, Lane held him, letting their mutual warmth surround them, cocooning them in their own small world of newly professed love. Steven's heart soared as the last bands surrounding it fell away. Lane loved him back. "I do love you, Lane," Steven murmured just before he was kissed to within an inch of his life.
That floating feeling returned, and Steven held Lane tight, needing something to ground him as Lane's hands and mouth played his body like a fine instrument. Steven squirmed beneath Lane, his body begging for more.
Lane broke their kiss, and Steven groaned at the loss, only to have that groan morph into a cry of delight as Lane's tongue skimmed around a nipple before sucking and scraping his sensitive skin with his teeth. "Please be careful," Steven hissed between clenched teeth as Lane repeated the treatment on the other, moving back and forth, caressing his skin. Steven jumped, thrusting into Lane's hand when his fingers closed around him, gripping him in tight warmth. "Lane, we need...," Steven gasped as the hand around him tightened, stroking lightly, and Steven arched his back, trying desperately for more as Lane stilled his hips.
"You'll get what you want," Lane said as his hand slipped away, "but not quite yet." A hand rested on the center of his chest, right above his heart. "What do you want, Steven?" Lane asked, and Steven cocked his head. "If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"
"I want---" Steven started to say and then stopped himself. What he wanted wasn't something he should be able to expect.
"What is it? Tell me what you want."
"I want you, but we shouldn't do that." Steven lifted his head, looking into Lane's eyes.
"Lie down again," Lane told him, reaching to the bedside table.
"What are you doing?" Steven asked as he watched Lane pull open a drawer.
"Getting ready to make love to you." The drawer closed as Lane found what he was looking for. Packages opened, and Steven felt Lane roll a condom onto him. "Roll over," Lane said, tapping his hip gently. Steven wasn't sure about this, but Lane had asked for his trust, and he'd give it to him. After rolling over, he felt Lane's chest against his back, hands caressing the skin of his arms. "I love you, Steven. You're beautiful and kind," Lane whispered, placing kisses on his neck and down his back, hands trailing behind, making him shiver and shake. "Let me love you, Steven," Lane pleaded, fingers sliding over his butt, and Steven arched his back in anticipation. A finger skimmed his entrance, and Steven tensed. "It's fine, Steven, trust me." Forcing himself to relax, he peered over his shoulder, and Lane held up his hand, a small condom on his finger. His eyes shifting to Lane's face, Steven saw his lover grin before putting his head back on the pillow, giving himself over to Lane, letting his worries go.
The finger breached him slowly, and Steven sighed, a deep, cleansing sigh. He hadn't thought this could ever be part of his life again. Lane crooked his finger, and Steven saw stars. "Lane," Steven cried as he arched his back, willing his lover to do that again. And he did, making Steven forget his own name. "Fuck, Lane, please!"
"I know, baby, but it's been a while, and I need to get you ready, so just relax and...."
Whatever Lane did, Steven felt the air whoosh from his chest with a sharp cry, and he rocked on the bed as every nerve in his body short-circuited at the same time. Then the finger withdrew, the touch sliding away. The tear of another package had him on anticipatory edge, and then he felt Lane pressing for entrance. Slowly, steadily, Lane entered him. Steven's mouth hung open as his body experienced sensations he had long accepted he'd never feel again. He knew skin-on-skin contact wasn't an option, but the feeling of joining with Lane pushed all his last reservations aside. "Lane, God, so big," he gasped, willing his body to adjust, not wanting this to stop for any reason.
"You feel so good," Lane told him with a slight nip to his ear. Turning his head, they kissed sloppily as Lane moved in these small, tiny rhythms that massaged that spot deep inside. Unable to hold his head in that position, Steven buried his face in the pillow as Lane's fingers held his side, and Lane began moving inside him. Long and slow, each stroke drove him damned near to distraction. Steven tried meeting him, but every time he did, Lane slowed down.
"I won't break, Lane."
"Don't want to hurt you," Lane told him, and Steven growled, ramming his hips backward, and Lane got the message. Driving into him, the bed rocking, Steven heard Lane panting behind him as he writhed beneath his strong, forceful lover, adoring every second of it.
"Don't stop, Lane, so close, please...." Steven knew he was begging, but it didn't matter in the least. He'd beg, plead, and grovel to keep Lane driving deep inside him. Each stroke hit that spot, and Steven's body cried out for more.
His climax hit him without warning. One second he was screaming the start of his release at Lane and the next he was gasping for breath as his body reacted with more force than he could remember, driving him even higher. Lane fucked him through it, leaving him wrung out, and still he continued like a machine. Pulling out, Lane rolled Steven onto his back and reentered him with a hard thrust, Lane's cock, thick and long, filling him completely. Steven stared up at Lane, their eyes locking as they moved together, with Steven holding on the bed while Lane took him on a magical ride he never knew was possible. "That's it, sexy man," Lane crooned. "Take all of me and give me everything," Lane demanded, thrusting deep and stopping, pressing against his prostate and not moving. Steven felt his body reacting, the condom still around him stretching as he got hard again. "That's it, baby, show me how I make you feel."
"Lane," Steven breathed, stroking himself as Lane's hands skimmed over his skin, hips snapping against his lover's. With a final thrust that pushed Steven along the mattress, Steven came for the second time as he felt Lane throb inside him.
Steven tried to keep his eyes open, but they closed on their own, his spirit floating as he gasped for breath, every bit of energy drained from him. He felt Lane withdraw, and he felt the bed move, but he couldn't. Still gasping, Steven removed his condom, fumbling for the trash and thankfully finding it near the bed before closing his eyes again, listening, but hearing nothing. The next thing he remembered was Lane climbing into bed, covers being pulled over him, and arms holding him close as he drifted on warm, blissful clouds.
Waking some time later, he felt Lane's breath on his skin. Slowly, Steven rolled over to face Lane. Pleased his lover was still asleep, Steven took the chance to watch him as he snored softly. Stubbly cheeks made soft scraping sounds as Lane's face shifted, his mouth open just enough to be perfectly kissable, hair askew, falling into his face---in short, the man was perfect. And he loved him---Lane loved him. Looking toward the ceiling, Steven gave a silent word of thanks to whoever had been looking out for him. "Steven," Lane said softly, gathering him in his big arms. "Go to sleep."
"I can't," Steven answered, snuggling back into Lane's warmth. His mind raced a mile a minute as he tried to take in his good fortune. Lane loved him. Lane's mother had liked him. Steven stiffened and saw Lane's eyes drift open.
"What is it, baby? What's keeping you awake?" Lane's hand stroked his belly, an arm brushing against his side. "Close your eyes and go to sleep." Lane shifted his weight, pressing Steven onto his belly, and Lane slowly rubbed his back, long movements from his shoulders to his butt and upper legs before reversing. "That's it, relax and tell me about it." Lane's hands kept their slow stroking.
"I've been thinking about your mom," Steven confessed, and he felt Lane's hand stop moving.
"At a time like this, when I'm rubbing your butt, you think of my mother? That's disturbing." Steven lifted his head and saw Lane's smile, and they both chuckled.
"I was thinking about how your mother accepted you, ya sick nut," Steven teased, before putting his head back on the pillow. "You're very lucky."
"I know," Lane said as he continued rubbing Steven's back, big hands soothing away some of his worries.
"I wanted to ask you something," Steven said as he lifted his head off the pillow, looking toward Lane in the dark room. "If I went to see my parents, would you go with me?"
Lane's hand skimmed off the edge of his body, and then he was pulled to Lane and held tight. "Of course I will, but isn't this something you want to do on your own?"
Steven shook his head against Lane's skin. "If I had to go alone, I'd never actually go."
"Okay." He felt Lane kiss his hair. "We'll go whenever you say."
It took more than a week for Steven to get up the courage to actually attempt to see his parents. Steven had to give Lane credit---he hadn't said anything and let him make up his own mind. "Lane." Steven drew the lat pull-down bar behind his head. "Can we stop by my parents' tonight?" Steven got the bar all the way down before letting it rise back into place and getting up from the machine.
"If that's what you'd like," Lane responded.
"And after that are you two having an all-you-can-eat sausage fest?" Lonnie chimed in as he finished his set from the machine next to them.
"God, I hope so," Steven retorted without thinking before adding, "and no, you can't join us, no matter how much you beg." Lonnie's eyes went wide for a second, and Lane hooted from next to him. "You know, for a straight man, you're way too interested in our bedroom activities." Steven reached over and caught Lonnie around the neck, and the big man squirmed away with a laugh. "Maybe you should give it a whirl, Lon," Steven teased, "there's that huge guy in the locker room who's always watching you. Heck, I bet he'll give you a fun time for your money."
Lane lost it next to him, doubling over with laughter as Lonnie stared at him openmouthed and speechless. "Come on, Steven, we should get cleaned up and leave Lonnie with a shred of his self-image intact," Lane commented through his laughter, slapping Lonnie on the shoulder as he walked toward the locker room.
Steven cleaned up quickly without using the sauna or whirlpool, and after dressing, walked out to the front, sitting in one of the huge chairs while he waited for Lane. Leg bouncing, his stomach fluttering, Steven wondered just what kind of reception he was going to receive. He had no illusions that his parents would welcome him with open arms, but he'd be happy if they would listen to him. Maybe they could come to an understanding. Hope rose within him, and Steven did his best to try to keep it in check, but damn, it wasn't working.
"Are you ready?" Lane asked as he approached. "I thought we'd take your car, if that's okay."
"Sure." Steven stood up, his nerves ramping up with each step.
"You okay?" Lane asked, watching Steven fumble with his keys as he unlocked the car door.
"Yeah," he answered, finally opening the doors and getting into the car. "I'm just a little nervous."
Lane pulled his door closed, leaning close to Steven, lips right near his ear. "If we were someplace private, I'd strip you down and fuck those nerves away."
"Great," Steven said with mock annoyance. "Now I'm nervous and have a hard-on. That's going to look great to my mother," Steven added before chuckling, some of the nerves dissipating.
"See, that's better. And know this, good or bad, I'll still take you back to my place and fuck you senseless."
"Giving me something to look forward to?" Steven asked as he started the car.
"You betcha, now let's go."
Steven noticed he didn't say, "Let's go get this over with," but that was what Steven was beginning to feel. Pulling out of the parking lot, he drove to the neighborhood he'd grown up in, wondering just what kind of reaction he would get.
Steven drove the streets he remembered so well, pulling to a stop in front of the house he'd shared with family and friends, the place he'd always felt safe even after the kids had picked on "Blobby Bobby" all day. A single car was parked in the driveway, so he knew someone was indeed home. Steven looked to the front of the house, shutting off the engine, but made no move to get out. "Do you want me to go with you?" Lane asked.
"No." Steven turned to Lane. "I'll be fine." Opening the door, Steven stepped out of the car, closing the door with a thunk without moving away. What was he doing? He should just get back in the car and leave. Why rock the boat? Looking through the glass, he saw Lane and smiled briefly to him before forcing his legs to move.
Approaching the door, Steven took a deep breath before knocking. Footsteps approached the door, and there was a rush of air as it opened and he saw his mother standing on the other side of the screen door. Steven said nothing, but waited a few seconds as her face went through a number of emotions. He saw her mouth the word "Bobby," but said nothing as she stared at him. She looked almost happy to see him.
"Who is it?" he heard from inside, his father's voice coming through the screen, and for a second, Steven felt himself smile at the familiar sound.
"It's Bobby," his mother said softly, before turning her head toward the living room. "Our son." Steven felt a lump form in his throat and half expected her to open the screen door and let him in.
"I wanted---" Steven started.
"We don't have a son," he heard his unseen father say forcefully from inside the house, and Steven stopped his thought right there. His mother turned back to him, and the two of them stood there for a second looking at one another before the door slowly closed, and Steven found himself staring at the outside of the white door with its diamond-shaped windows.
Blankly, Steven turned and walked back down the front walk to the driveway and out to the car. He'd barely reached the end of the driveway before he was engulfed in a deep hug. He hadn't even heard Lane get out of the car, but it didn't matter. "You okay?"
Steven nodded once, letting Lane hold him and then lead him toward the passenger side of the car. Getting inside, Steven handed Lane the keys without thinking, sitting blankly without looking toward the house. He heard Lane get in and start the car. As they pulled away, he couldn't help himself from taking a last look at the house. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the curtains move back into place. Not that it mattered. They'd made their decision, not that he should have been surprised, but it still hurt.
Lane drove them to his home. "What about your car? It's still at the gym," Steven asked, not really thinking.
"We'll get it later," Lane answered, pulling into his parking space.
Steven followed Lane inside, trying to put what had happened behind him. He knew he'd gone on a fool's errand, and he should have known that a door slammed in his face would be his reception. But he'd allowed himself to hope for something else, and it had carried him away. Flopping down on Lane's sofa, he let his lover hold him as he sat numbly. "I'll be okay, Lane," he said, wondering if it was for Lane or himself. "I shouldn't have expected anything different."
"It still hurts, though," Lane told him softly, a hand stroking his cheek.
"Yeah, I guess." Steven shrugged slightly before turning to look at Lane. "But what hurts worse is that I opened myself to it. They haven't made an effort in years, and I allowed them to hurt me again. Well, now I know and can move on." Steven rested his head against Lane's shoulder, letting his eyes drift closed in the still room as he listened to Lane's soft breathing. He'd made his own life, and he'd been doing it for years. He didn't need them and hadn't in a long time. Moping around and feeling sorry for himself wasn't doing him any good, especially not over people who'd written him off years ago.
"I'm sorry I pushed you," Lane said, and Steven kissed him.
"You didn't. You were right, I had to find out," Steven responded, before deepening the kiss, very happy, and Lane made him happier as he pressed him back on the sofa cushions, kissing him hard. Shifting around him, Steven felt Lane's weight press on him, the intensity of their kisses increasing fast.
Steven felt Lane pushing up his shirt, fingers plucking his nipples, making Steven arch into the touch. "I have a surprise for you," Lane said against his lips, as Steven felt Lane's hand on his belt, fingers deftly opening it before pushing down his zipper. Steven tried to get up, but Lane held him where he was. A hot palm stroked above the elastic of his underwear before delving inside, fishing his erection out of the fabric before pushing it down his hips. "Don't move," Lane warned before getting up and hurrying away. Steven felt a little weird lying on the sofa, clothes disheveled, until Lane returned, kneeling next to the sofa, hands moving over his skin.
Steven lifted his head when he felt Lane rolling a condom on him. "What's that for?"
"Mint-flavored," Lane replied with a grin before knocking all the air from Steven's lungs as he sucked him deep and hard.
"Lane," Steven cried, his hips bucking forward on their own. "Jesus, God!"
Steven tried to watch what Lane was doing, but gave up as the sensations overtook him, and he let the soft cushions cradle him as Lane sucked him into near total oblivion. That mouth, those hands... Steven felt the floaty feeling he always seemed to feel whenever Lane touched him. The man was like a drug, and Steven knew he was completely addicted. "Do you like that, Steven?" Lane murmured, his lips slipping away from him, and Steven thrust his hips forward again, searching for what had been taken away.
"Yes, of course I like it," he growled, trying desperately to get Lane to continue, his breath heaving in his chest. "Why did you stop?" Steven added just before Lane's hands rubbed their way up his stomach and chest, fingers latching onto his nipples, pinching and working them lightly. "Lane, please."
"Please what? What is it you want?"
"I want you to suck me," Steven answered, hoping those were the magic words. "I want the man I love to suck me." Lane smiled at him, and Steven felt his breath catch once again. A long, low sigh accompanied the return of Lane's mouth on him, taking him deep. Steven could barely control himself, and when Lane sucked him hard, tongue doing something magical he couldn't describe, he nearly lost it completely, babbling incoherently as Lane played him like a magic flute. "Lane, I'm gonna come," Steven managed to gasp as his balls tightened to his body, the last of his control slipping away. Lane didn't let up, sucking harder and meeting Steven's ragged movements until he exploded, screaming at the top of his lungs.
When he came back to his senses, Steven felt Lane's gentle strokes on his skin. Opening his eyes, he peered down at himself, wondering how he looked to Lane. Bulging arms encircled his waist, holding him tight, then they were gone, and he felt his pants being tugged off his legs and heard Lane curse softly when they caught on his shoes. Steven managed to kick off his shoes and his pants quickly followed before Lane manhandled him onto the floor, butt in the air. "Not gonna be gentle," Lane warned, his voice deep and gritty. A finger breached him, preparing him briefly before he smelled mint and waited impatiently while Lane got ready.
"Don't need gentle, just need you," Steven answered just before Lane sank into him with a deep, rumbling sigh.
"Damn, you look good around my cock," Lane told him, and Steven held on to the sofa cushions as Lane fucked him to heaven.
"Yeah!" Steven encouraged, driving back to meet Lane's thrusts.
"I promised I'd fuck you to oblivion, and I fully intend to keep that promise, so hold on, baby," Lane growled as he drove into him. Steven arched his back, his body pressing toward Lane, who grabbed his hips, driving their bodies together hard enough that their skin slapped together. Their cries filled the room, and in a moment of lucidity, he wondered if the people in the next condo could hear them. Then Lane hit his prostate and all thoughts other than Lane flew from his head with the speed of a bullet.
"Lane," Steven mewled softly.
"Am I hurting you?" Lane asked, stilling, that is until Steven shook his head, and Lane pulled him back, driving Steven against his body. Lane had never been like this with him before. Up to now, their lovemaking had been just that, not the primal coupling that this was turning into. Steven loved it. For the first time in a while, someone wasn't treating him like a china doll that would break.
"Don't you fucking dare stop!" Steven growled, and Lane didn't, thrusting home, and Steven heard him cry out and felt Lane empty himself before collapsing, his chest resting on Steven's back, while he in turn flopped forward onto the sofa cushions.
Lane's hands slid along his skin, palms resting against his stomach. Steven gasped for breath as he felt Lane slip from his body. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Lane's breath tickled his ear.
"No," Steven answered, feeling Lane's weight lift away. Turning over, he hugged Lane tight and felt hands stroke his skin. "You were amazing."
"I don't usually lose control like that," Lane said, his eyes dark, but his voice quavery and unsure. "I loved it, but it scares me that I could have hurt you."
"You'd never hurt me."
"How do you know?" Lane asked, still shaking a little.
"I just do," Steven answered, resting his head on Lane's shoulder as a warm contentment permeated his spirit. "The same way I know I'd never intentionally hurt you." Steven shivered and Lane got up, walking naked from the room, returning a few minutes later with a trash can, a washcloth, and a blanket. After a quick cleanup from their activities, Lane settled next to him on the sofa. "Lots of people have hurt me, Lane. You did in high school." Steven touched Lane's lips with a finger to stop his explanation. "That isn't you anymore, I know that. My parents hurt me, and God knows how many others, but I know in my heart that the Lane I'm holding never will, and that's the man I'm in love with."
Steven saw Lane look him in the eyes, lean forward, and kiss him. "I love you too," Steven told him, hugging him so his head again rested on Lane's shoulder. "You know, we could move to the bedroom."
"Or we could turn on the television and order a pizza. We kind of skipped dinner." Lane chuckled and slipped out of the blanket. Steven heard him on the phone ordering food and then he was back beside him, warm and comforting. "What about the television?"
Lane lightly nuzzled his neck. "I think we can figure out something more special to occupy our time. Don't you?" Lane asked softly before kissing him once again as they waited for the pizza to be delivered, curled up together on the floor under a blanket. Steven couldn't remember the last time a half hour flew by so fast.
Steven finished his Saturday morning workout with the guys, the last rep feeling so wonderful. His arms and chest were tight with just enough soreness to let him know he'd worked them well, and he was done for the day. Standing up from the bench, Steven looked toward the front of the club, where Lane sat talking with a client. "You two seem to have really hit it off," Dan said from behind him, and Steven saw his friend and coworker following his gaze.
"We're doing very well," Steven said with a smile, not looking away as Lane stood up and walked to one of the filing cabinets.
"This has to be the gayest place in town," Lonnie added in his own special way. "It's a regular sausagefest in here." Lonnie looked around the room, and Steven saw Dan do the same thing. "You see the guy over there that looks like a Marine with the gray hair? That's Ivan, and the guy he's working out with is Maddoc. You've got Hugh over there with Max, and of course there's Dan here with that cockhopper Gene." Lonnie shook his head. "But you know the worst part? I introduced George and Darryl."
"Aw, Lon," Dan crooned, putting an arm around Lonnie's shoulder, "you're such a yenta." Dan dashed away as Lonnie took a swipe at him.
"We done?" Lonnie asked, already walking toward the locker room.
"Yes," Dan answered as he walked with them.
"Good. So," Lonnie said, stopping before turning back to them, "which of you two is gonna suck me off in the sauna?"
Both he and Dan rolled their eyes, and Dan reached over to Lonnie, smacking him on the back of the head. "You're a complete pig, and Steven and I gave up pork for Lent." Dan took off for the locker room with Lonnie right behind him. By the time Steven caught up with them near their lockers, both of them had towels in hand ready to snap them at the other. Steven ignored them and changed into his bathing suit, hearing the snaps of towels and ensuing cries, laughter, and increasingly outrageous threats. After grabbing his towel, Steven locked his locker and walked to the shower area, pulling open the door to the empty sauna. It didn't remain empty for long. Dan and Lonnie joined him a few minutes later, as did Gene, along with other men. Lonnie gabbed about something or other, and eventually Steven left to spend a few minutes in the whirlpool.
"Are you going to lunch?" Lane asked from near his head after he'd been in the whirlpool a few minutes. His eyes had drifted closed, and Steven hadn't even heard his lover approach. "I have a break in ten minutes and could join you."
Steven stood up, the water coming to his waist. "I'm almost done here. I can meet you out front." Steven walked to the steps, getting out of the water and following Lane's butt, encased in a pair of black pants, like he was the Pied Piper. In the shower area, Steven picked a shower at the opposite end from where Lonnie and Dan were throwing cold water on each other.
Steven cleaned up and dressed quickly, staying out of the line of fire. After saying goodbye to the guys, he hurried to the front of the club, where Lane was waiting for him. "Let's go to the sandwich shop down the street," Lane said as they walked across the parking lot. "I need something light, and their service is usually pretty quick."
"Sure," Steven said, following Lane to his car. "I know you don't have very long."
Getting in the car, Steven closed his door, and Lane gave him a sweet, if quick, kiss before starting the engine and driving to the restaurant. After waiting in line, Steven managed to snag the last empty table in the far corner as Lane got their drinks.
"Bobby," he heard whispered from near his shoulder. Looking up, Steven felt his breath catch in his throat as his mother stood near the table. "Bobby, I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching into her purse for a tissue, dabbing her eyes. "I know I don't deserve any of your time, but I've been coming here every day for lunch since I saw you a few weeks ago, hoping I'd see you again." Steven didn't know what to say. "There hasn't been a day that I haven't missed you."
Steven gasped as the anger rose inside him. "You missed me so much I haven't seen or heard from you in over a decade?"
"I know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have no right to anything, but I wanted to see you and talk to you." She began to sniff as tears ran down her cheeks. "I wanted to see my boy again." Lane approached the table, setting down the drinks, and Steven saw him look from him to his mother and back again. His mother sniffed again. "I got to see you, and that's all I could hope for." She turned and walked away.
Steven turned back toward Lane, still feeling a little shocked. The server arrived and placed their food in front of them. "Are you just going to let her go?" Lane asked, but Steven couldn't answer. "Steven, you're the sweetest man I've ever met, and I love you so much it hurts," Lane added as he took Steven's hand. "But I have to ask you, do you want today to be the last time you ever see your mother again?" Lane fixed him in his gaze. "Go on."
Before he could second-guess himself, Steven jumped to his feet, hurrying between the tables and out the door to the parking lot, where he saw his mother getting into her car. "Mom," he heard himself call before he could stop himself. He saw her stop, looking around, and he ran to her.
"Bobby, I'm so sorry," she said as he approached, and then she was hugging him. "I missed you so much," she said through her tears. "You've changed so much since you graduated from college."
"High school, Mom, I haven't seen you since I graduated from high school."
"I know, but I've seen you."
Steven clamped his eyes closed as the tears threatened big-time. "Come back inside where we can talk." She nodded and fished another tissue out of her purse, wiping her eyes as they walked together back toward the door. "That man you're with---is he your boyfriend?"
"No, Mom. He's more than that---he's the man I love." They walked inside, and Steven saw Lane stand at the table waiting for them, a huge, happy smile on his face that got even wider as they approached. When he got close enough, Lane took his hand and squeezed it, and Steven wondered what he'd ever done to deserve him, if only so he could be sure he kept doing it. He had no idea what to expect from his mother, or even from Lane, but from where he stood now, things looked positive, and he could be happy with that.
Andrew Grey grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master's degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation. Andrew's hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing). He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world's most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Visit Andrew's web site at http://www.andrewgreybooks.com and blog at http://andrewgreybooks.livejournal.com/. E-mail him at andrewgrey@comcast.net.
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
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Contemporary Romance by Andrew Grey
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Positive Resistance ©Copyright Andrew Grey, 2011
Published by
Dreamspinner Press
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Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors' imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Mara McKennan
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/
Released in the United States of America
June 2011
eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-937-9

