CHAPTER 2 – CLOSE ENCOUNTERS

Again, Kurt examined the ruled lines staring back at him…..thirty minutes of nothing. Then, head resting on a hand, he brought up a Word document on his laptop. Blink….blink….blink, the cursor nagged, “Okay, what’s next?” He remembered when the words simply flowed when he wrote in his journals, when his laptop was simply a conduit for his thoughts and feelings. But lately it was like his ideas had taken a vacation. Maybe they were lying on a beach somewhere talking about how tired they were of Kurt’s neediness.

He’d joined a couple of writer’s groups; he liked to think of them as mutual sounding boards. This didn’t feel like what he perceived writer’s block to be. And his fellow writers had tried putting it into perspective. They posited that when he was just writing for himself there was no pressure. He was writing to benefit himself only. Now, it was his job, along with teaching. He felt like he was constantly preparing for his audience, either his twice weekly classes or his future readers, except his performance wasn’t on a stage or in person. Writing could be a lonely job. There was no instant gratification, no applause, no one begging you to sing their favorite song. It was just you, and in Kurt’s case, his classes. Sure, people encouraged him, telling him what a great job he was doing and how they couldn’t wait to read the book. He’d even written down some of the comments, hoping rereading what had been said would boost his spirits. Sometimes it did, but lately when it was just him at the kitchen table, his mind would wander.

He’d gotten stuck on the subject of fantasies…not that that was necessarily a bad subject to be stuck on, but he didn’t want his book to be so much about specific fantasies they’d created, but rather how to create your own fantasies based on your individual relationship. His book was based on the how of creating a strong relationship and then building on it from that foundation up.

Just because fantasies were an integral part of he and Javi’s relationship didn’t mean they had to be for everyone. But what other ideas could he present for those who weren’t really into fantasy? The bedrock of honesty, trust, effective communication, and love were obviously great cornerstones, but he wondered, did you have to tell your partner everything? What if you felt uneasy about a fantasy or anything for that matter, afraid of what your partner’s reaction would be if they knew? After all, they were imperfect humans trying their best to apply CHETL (the acronym for the cornerstones) to their relationships. It was unrealistic to expect a person to be strong in all four; everyone had at least one weakness. His was trust.

And what should you avoid telling them? If it was different for each couple how did you decide what not to tell them? Could you ask them? That idea seemed to negate the original questions all together! He was getting nowhere with this. Irritated, he shut his laptop and his notebook. Maybe he needed to get out of this apartment – it wasn’t anywhere near as welcoming as their house in San Diego. In fact, lots of times it felt like living in a hotel room. He grabbed his backpack, two water bottles and a few snacks. He’d find a shady tree or maybe even play on the swings! Sometimes recapturing bits of his childhood cleared his mind allowing creativity to flow.

Jeff still couldn’t get a handle on why he had this unsettling feeling about Kurt…. and Blaine. He wanted to believe it was just something about Kurt alone, but his imagination wasn’t very convincing. He kept seeing the two of them together at Deni’s surprise party. It was nothing so overt as flirting; that he could understand being upset about. And from what Blaine had told him of their recent past a true friendship was still somewhere beyond the horizon. He assumed the sensitivity of Blaine’s temperature gauge was far better than his own when it came to Kurt. Not anywhere near 98.6 according to Blaine. At best, Kurt was still tiptoeing around Blaine, trying to decide if it was even safe to knock on the door.

But Blaine had also commented on a significant change he’d noticed. He said that Kurt wasn’t as uptight as he used to be. He seemed……freer? Blaine told him it appeared that Kurt’s PDA level had dramatically changed. When they’d been together, Kurt would occasionally hold his hand in public….he might even allow his arm to slip around Blaine’s shoulders, but those moments were to be treasured. Watching him now it was hard to believe. He and Javi weren’t nauseatingly demonstrative, but they weren’t afraid to show their mutual affection either. And they didn’t even need to be touching! Blaine fought to find words to describe it, but he’d said it was like….there was some sort of invisible force field?….magnetism?….holding them together. Like…they didn’t need physical contact to appear connected. But why should he feel threatened by that? It wasn’t what he’d seen between Kurt and Blaine.

Yet….his analogy of worn jigsaw puzzle pieces was trapped in his head. Should he tell Blaine about his feelings when he was unsure of what they were to begin with or give it some more time and space? As thrilled as he was that Blaine had landed his permanent roles in the play, their now combined messy schedules were wreaking havoc on what had already been their three-ring-circus life. Blaine was at the theater six nights a week most of the time and sometimes a matinee on the weekends. And the physical demands took as much of a toll on Blaine as Jeff’s job did on Jeff. No, he needed to carve some time out of the limited free hours he had to think. Springing these questions….doubts maybe?….on Blaine without more thought on his part wasn’t fair. He downed the last sip of cold coffee, sticking an energy bar in his pocket. Surgery awaited!

Javi unlocked the door, juggling his satchel, a bottle of wine and a bouquet of yellow roses, dropping the satchel on the inside of the open door. He’d received a short text earlier, very un-Kurt-like, “At the park be home around 5.” Not a single emoji; not even a smiley face. A blue Post-It note was stuck to one of the kitchen counters bearing basically the same message. No X’s and O’s, no hearts…..considerate as always, but…..he mentally shrugged his shoulders.

Assuming the off-day it appeared his partner was having didn’t extend to his usual punctuality, he’d ordered Kurt’s favorite pizza, supreme without anchovies.

In three hours he’d be in full makeup again, assuming his role as Lust, but he made every effort to spend time with Kurt on a daily basis. He’d never realized how labor-intensive a play could be. Kurt had bent over backwards to accommodate Javi’s desire to follow Reinventing Your Sins to LA. Kurt may be a homebody at heart, but Javi knew the place that he called home wasn’t this utilitarian apartment. It was in San Diego where most of their friends were, where if he needed a mini escape from writing, he could take a swim or sit by the pool, their backyard being home to a mixed bouquet of flowers and a cacophony of chirping birds.

Here, Javi would almost always find him in one of two places. At the apartment-sized kitchen table, hunkered over his laptop and notebooks or propped up against the headboard of their bed dictating his lesson plans for the following week. Sometimes Kurt was so absorbed in what he was doing that Javi could stand at the bedroom door and observe. Watching his Kurtito was still one of his favorite pastimes and the fact that he could call him “his” could still bring tears to the eyes of this Mexican man who according to his father should never, ever cry.

Pulling a chair away from the table he took a seat noticing the HP laptop and red notebook uncharacteristically sitting on the table. That was also unlike Kurt. He was a place for everything and everything in its place type of person. And he almost picked them up to take them to their assigned place. But then he remembered Kurt’s odd behavior and decided to leave them alone. Most of the time, Kurt would laugh at Javi for doing such a thing, but he was pretty sure this was not one of those times.

He smiled to himself. Sometimes he’d call him Felix Unger, the character from the Odd Couple, practically cleaning up after himself before he completed whatever he was doing. And sure! It did get on his nerves once in a while, but if that was the worst thing he could say about his lover, he would consider himself blessed.

“Hey,” Kurt said as he walked through the door and leaned down to give Javi a perfunctory kiss. Hmmmm…..this wasn’t like Kurt either. He rarely greeted Javi with anything less than a warm, loving kiss and embrace and more often than not calling him some alliterative name he’d come up with on the spot like, hey hottie! or how’s my sexy Mexy! But now Kurt looked rather defeated and downcast. Even his eyes looked lackluster and it was nearly impossible for those kaleidoscope eyes to look anything other than fascinating.

Javi patted the chair beside him inviting Kurt to take a seat. Kurt smiled when his eyes lit on the big bouquet of roses lying there. “I love you so much!” he exclaimed, this time giving Javi a proper kiss. As Kurt went in search of a vase, Javi announced he’d ordered pizza, picking up the oven pads and opening the oven door. The smell of pepperoni and warm bread crust filled the air. Call me old-fashioned, he thought, but he’d grown up without a microwave and he’d never gotten used to reheating in one. An oven had been good enough for his mama and it was good enough for him. After grabbing a messy slice and taking a bite, allowing Kurt to gather his obviously preoccupied thoughts, he swallowed. “Okay, what’s up mi Kurtito,” he asked and placed a hand on one of Kurt’s.

Kurt sighed, “I don’t know.” Javi gave him an oh come on look. “No, I really don’t, Javi. I’m stuck on one of the chapters or maybe more than one. Like, what if a couple isn’t really into fantasy like we are? What are some other ways to keep your sex life alive? Or what if one’s interested in fantasy, but the other’s not? Maybe one is just interested in closeness but the sexual aspect isn’t a big deal for them? Obviously, compromise is the answer…but how?”

“And then I started wondering if you really have to tell your partner everything? I mean we usually create a fantasy to deal with some of the things that might be an issue, but we love fantasy, we love to create. What if your best form of communication is just conversation? Is there some safe space for one person to tell the other about a possible bone of contention without fear of the consequences? Is simply asking a good idea? Can you make a list of things you don’t want to discuss? God! I sound like my own counselor! I don’t want to be a psychiatrist, I just want to write a book about what we’ve learned together!” Kurt ran his hands through his thick ginger hair.

“Kurt, take a deep breath and slow down! Have you thought of this? You don’t have to have the answers for every possible scenario. As you’ve often pointed out couples can learn a lot of things from other material. I don’t know….maybe you could make a list of other resources for specific problems. You could bring up these questions in your classes and get some feedback. Make it clear you need to draw a line between what you can teach them and what you can’t? How about a list of concerns that they might encounter that they’ll have to work out for themselves…”

Javi made a valiant attempt to hide his worried expression. Kurt was such a perfectionist and usually suggesting he couldn’t do something would only make him want to do it more. But he was concerned that he might be confusing his passion with his mission.

“So, your mission is to share with others what you’ve learned from me, what I learned from Tonio and what we’re now learning together. Your passion is writing, si? Stick with that, mi amor. Maybe we could build a fantasy around writing and…..”

Kurt laughed, “Sometimes you’re so funny! I could call my notebooks naked notebooks? Or maybe I could name my laptop my lewd and lascivious laptop? Or toss out a list of wicked passwords?” His razor sharp wit revealing itself. And at first Javi sort of agreed with him, it did sound pretty silly…but then he thought well why not? That was their favorite way to deal with problems. Why couldn’t they create a fantasy somehow involving writing? Sure, the word “writing” all by itself seemed rather boring, but wasn’t that what fantasy was? Dressing up the every day and turning it into a special event?

“No, Kurtito, really, why not? Sure, it may sound like a rather strange thing to fantasize about, but that’s what fantasy is, strange, different, right? It doesn’t have to be literally, no pun intended, about writing…come on! We’re good at this, remember?” “Well, yeah….I guess…” Kurt said, still not quite convinced.

Blaine observed their second guest room from the door. He sighed as he purposefully carried a can of paint and a roller and pan into the room that Jeff’s sister, Jersey, would be using for her upcoming visit. After hours of going through paint swatches, they’d finally decided on a color. “Geez! Who knew there were so many shades of celery?” Jeff said. “I grew up with maybe five shades of green; celery was what I picked from the garden!”

Reinventing Your Sins had led to Blaine also having to reinvent any semblance of the schedule he’d once had. Last Sunday, he had taped off the floor and ceiling edges and thrown down some drop clothes. The room wasn’t that big, but painting it in between the meeting with Bill and then performing tonight felt daunting. So he’d forced himself to pick up the paint can, then the roller, marching himself down the hallway. He could at least get a wall or maybe two painted before tonight’s performance.

Prying the lid off the paint can with a screwdriver, he stood up, slowly surveying each wall. What few pictures that had decorated the walls were now resting in the hallway. He chuckled to himself. The last time he’d been in this room other than the previous Sunday, was the night he and Jeff had “christened” it. Candles, a bottle of wine, sensual music, and most importantly hours of time….they’d thrown sleeping bags down on the floor as Jeff had suggested, for variety. But the sleeping bags had gone unused. The bed was far more comfortable, and despite it being only a double bed, they’d discovered plenty of variety! Of course, they’d had to figure out how to get wine stains out of the comforter….and somehow they’d gotten candle wax on the floor that had to be scraped up without scratching the floor….yeah, somehow, Blaine laughed. Candle wax, who knew? Ice was a fun idea, too, according to Jeff. Next time maybe?

But other than that, he hadn’t really spent much time in here since he’d given Kurt the tour. Jeff used it occasionally to crash after long shifts, but other than that it got little use.

At first, going through the motions of painting was therapeutic. He had music playing in the background that added to the perceived therapy. He’d chosen a mix of the Glee Club’s playlists. He could still see Finn soooo very alive singing Paradise By the Dashboard Light….and it still hurt his heart knowing he’d never hear that vibrant voice or see him so carefree ever again.

He was jarred back to the present when a wave of…..light-headedness? struck him. Hadn’t he opened every window throughout the apartment to create circulation? He stumbled to the bed to sit down, but then thought better of it and decided to get out of the room altogether for some fresh air. He’d find their floor fan; he should have thought of that before, he chastised himself. But, he needed a break anyway and he could open the window in the room he was painting when he returned. He could have sworn he’d opened it, but….better to get out of the room first. The smell of the paint didn’t seem overbearing…..get some fresh air, Blaine, his commonsense murmured.

Opening the fridge, his body embraced the coolness, as he grabbed a Dr. Pepper and took a seat in his favorite chair. Oh, ice! He pulled on the freezer door and tossed a couple of cubes into a glass, and then poured the soda. Sitting down again, slowly the cloudy feeling began to dissipate. Maybe he was just overtired. Fifteen minutes, that’s all I need, he thought as he leaned back. He wanted to at least complete the one wall he’d started. Grabbing the fan from the coat closet, he circled the apartment checking to make sure all of the windows were still open. He could clearly feel the ventilation as he made his rounds.

Back in the room that was his work in progress, he quickly checked the window, positive he’d find in open. But it wasn’t open… It was closed; even the latches were in place. Okay, well, maybe he was more than just a little overtired. He quickly unlatched the window and drew it up a little higher than he thought he’d done the first time. The cool air hit his face like a welcome breeze. After plugging it in and turning the fan on low, he took a deep breath, testing, and turned his attention to his project. Dang! He’d forgotten about the music. Oh, well, he only had about 45 minutes before he’d have to quit for the day anyway.

Humming to himself, he dipped the roller into the paint, liking their color choice already. It was the perfect color, soothing, subtle, warm. Kurt had been right! Definitely celery. Ten minutes later he’d fallen into a rhythm, almost wishing he didn’t have to perform tonight. I’m on a roll! He silently laughed at his own play on words.

Clatter, thump! Startled, Blaine quickly surveyed the room. What had fallen? He’d been extra careful to make sure that everything breakable was placed in the hallway before he started. All that remained was the bed, the nightstand and the dresser pulled to the center of the room. Maybe something was wrong with the fan. Puzzled, he scanned the hardwood floor….the picture! His friends from Glee Club stared up at him from the floor, the smiling faces almost seeming to mock him, laughing at his expense! Of course! He’d placed the glass-framed photo face down on the bed….but in the middle of the bed….covered with a pillow – he was absolutely sure! And there was the pillow still sitting on the bed exactly where he’d placed it.

Kurt was tired of writing his “how-to” about foundations and fantasies. He didn’t want to actually present he and Javi’s fantasies to their friends – that was a little too much or at least he thought so. The last thing he wanted was to think about their friends (his students!) viewing them through the eyes of their personal fantasies, or worse, trying their specific fantasies and then wanting to get into a discussion about them. He could hear it now, “Hey, guys! We tried _________ (fill in the blank, he thought) the other night…it didn’t work as well as we’d hoped. Any pointers?” And there were tons of books out there to help them construct fantasies anywhere from playful and romantic to down and dirty. He could see yet another list in the making.

But to illustrate maybe he could write a story like that as an example making sure his students knew it was fictional and not based on he and Javi’s love life in particular; it was up to them to believe it or not. Yet, he did want to try the idea out with Javi. Would he enjoy acting out a story using Kurt’s fiction as a template? What a silly question! Javi would enjoy trying almost anything and if he didn’t like it, he’d say so, that was a given.

Not realizing what he was doing, Blaine continued to stare at the photo, barely breathing. What the hell? He felt a chill run down his spine as he quickly placed the roller down, backing out of the room, finally standing outside of it. He hadn’t even taken the time to place the photo back on the bed or, what made even more sense, taken it with him. Was it intact? Were there any cracks in the frame? He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going back in there….not now…later maybe but not now. He quickly glanced around the room once more, knowing he should close the window, that he should take care of the paint can and the roller. But instead he closed the door and let out the breath he’d been holding.

MERRY-GO-ROUND

ACT 1: STEPHEN

They’d been pressed against the front door for at least five minutes, lips locked, half-giggling, half-moaning. Using a single hand to unlock the door behind him, they almost lost their footing, as the door opened onto the foyer. “I wonder if the neighbors enjoyed the show?” He laughed. “Like you care! You’re used to putting on a show…and even if the neighbors reported us, you’d probably go to jail just for the chance to be the neighborhood exhibitionist!” Stephen replied. Well, he could hardly argue with that, it was the absolute truth!

“Now, where were we?” Stephen said hurriedly. “Geez! At least let’s get our jackets off! I know I have a hot bod, but…..” Quickly, tossing their jackets on one of the kitchen chairs, Stephen’s low, husky laughter filled the air. “Oh yeah? You know that do you?” Stephen said with a wicked grin, “Then show me….maybe I’ve forgotten….maybe I need a refresher course…” Loosening buttons, the other quipped, “Oh shut up….how can I show you if you won’t shut…” the final thoughts halted by warm, persistent lips covering his own….and then by Stephen’s hungry fingers unzipping his pants and sliding beneath the waistband of the bikinis he wore, settling on his stiff cock and sensitive balls.

“Oh…..yes…..” the soft words escaped his lips, his knees starting to buckle as he was firmly pushed backwards flat against the living room wall. Had it really only been last weekend that they’d taken that short trip to Tijuana, barely leaving the hotel room, satisfying all their wanton desires? Gluttony and greed at the casino and the best part….fucking all weekend?

ACT 2 – ON THE ROAD AGAIN

He and Stephen had met a couple of years before at a photoshoot and become fast friends. Music and photography were not only their livelihoods, but also their singular passions. Creativity was their lifeblood. But it wasn’t until about a year ago that they’d become friends with benefits.

What a night that had been! The stage had been his playground and from the moment he’d walked down the stairs and into the spotlight the previously restless crowd turned into almost a unified force of nature! These were the audiences he lived for. Filling him to the brim with purpose, reminding him time and time again that some of the painful choices he’d had to make to get here were worth it all.

Camera in hand, Stephen positioned himself carefully not wanting to get in the way of the fans. Exceptional photography was dependent on so many things – timing, angles, lighting and tonight, in his case, the ability to follow his subject. The subject’s photogeneity meant nothing if you couldn’t keep up with their command of the stage. The challenge was almost like an aphrodisiac.

And the adrenaline rush didn’t end with the final encore. When they traveled as a team, they usually spent the after hours in the hotel bar and restaurant, exchanging anecdotes about the show and chatting with the late night staff.

Neither had been in a serious relationship for quite some time and, honestly, neither were interested in one. Living as they did? Suitcases always packed? Experience had taught them that 99% of the time someone would got hurt. Someday….maybe or…..maybe not.

Last call! he ordered one more drink and then went in search of the rest room. A few minutes later, rounding the corner back to their table he saw someone had taken his place opposite Stephen. A tall guy with reddish hair, a nice smile….maybe this was Stephen’s lucky night? Avoiding eye contact with his friend, he walked to the far end of the bar. His assumption was a groupie….or maybe just someone looking for a hookup. This was nothing new. And when the guy got up, leaving his friend with a pat on the shoulder, it pretty much confirmed his assumption.

“I’m going up to the room, Stephen,” he said when he rejoined his friend. “I’ll walk up with you,” was his reply. Stephen must be meeting the guy at his own room, he thought. It was only a few doors down from room 211. Sliding his keycard into the slot, Stephen said, “Mind if I come in for awhile, I’m just not tired yet.” “Sure, no problem, but what about…..” “Nah, that was a nonstarter, not my type.”

He’d seen the same scenario play out many times, but it rarely ended like this. He didn’t know Stephen had a type. Loneliness was the main reason they took advantage of groupies. Yeah, right! He took advantage of them? When it came to sex, groupies and the celebrities they followed were on a level playing field in his mind. They got another notch on their belt and he got to pretend for awhile that they weren’t just in it for the sex. They could be anything and anyone his imagination wanted them to be.

When they traveled together, loneliness wasn’t such an issue. They enjoyed each other’s company. And if one or both of them chose to sample what was so freely offered to them? Just one of the perks, right?

Stephen flopped down on the bed opposite the one his friend occupied. Maybe Stephen wasn’t tired yet, but sitting in another stiff-backed hotel room chair wasn’t his idea of comfort.

The movie menu appeared as he flipped the remote searching for something not too heavy, finally deciding on God’s Own Country, a British flick he’d heard was worth watching. Stephen nodded assent to his questioning look.

The movie was just getting interesting when Stephen heard what sounded like a soft snore. Chuckling to himself he glanced at his friend. His hand still holding the remote, he was sound asleep. Should he leave? The movie really was worth watching….and maybe only another half hour or so remained….he’d just turn out the lights. Walking around one side of the bed, he reached for the switch, and quietly attempted to slip the remote into his own hand. Stephen startled at the firm grasp! His companion had turned onto his side, unconsciously gripping Stephen’s hand in his sleep.

Oookkkaayyy…..Stephen slipped onto the floor not wanting to awaken him. He had to let go eventually. Keeping one eye on the movie and the other on his captured hand, his attention slowly shifted to his friend’s peaceful face. He really was a beautiful man….and not just physically…..he’d just never thought of him in “that” way. And how funny was that? The man had men and women (which he insisted didn’t stand a chance) falling at his feet, at the end of his bedpost if they could find a way to get there…..and here he was, one of his best friends. He didn’t have to hope or beg for his attention, it was just there!

Stephen quietly slid his hand out from the warmth of his friend’s loosening grip. He didn’t like where his mind was taking him….he’d finish watching the movie and leave.

He woke up with a start! Oh my god! They hadn’t been that drunk had they? Well, they were still in their clothes, so……

But why was Stephen lying beside him? The TV was still bleating. Where was the remote? Feeling around on the bed, he eventually located it beside Stephen’s hand, shut off the TV and set the remote on the nearby night table. Was Stephen a sleepwalker? Nothing like this had ever happened before and they’d shared rooms in more cities and towns than he could count. But after his initial surprise, his still groggy mind said, whatever, and he drifted back to sleep.

Mmmmm……a comforting arm lay across his chest….butterfly kisses caressed his face….he turned onto his side….intuitively reaching for…..who? Sleepily opening his eyes, they were met with eyes the same color as his own, gazing without inhibition, a teasing question mark in each of them. Relaxing into Stephen’s embrace, he tentatively returned his kisses, his mind whispering, “why not?”, his body surrendering without bothering to consider an answer to his own question.

They’d never talked much about fidelity, but they took the dangers of promiscuity seriously. Neither wanted or expected exclusivity. But they had talked about this – respect, protection, precautions. They weren’t in love; being in lust worked very well for them.

ACT 3 – STEPHEN

Hurriedly pushing the shirt away from that gorgeous expanse of chest, he ran his fingers through the soft carpet of hair, tweaking each nipple, circling the palm of a hand over the sensitive twin peaks. His body absorbed Stephen’s satisfying moans, while Stephen pushed his partner’s hand down to the button on his jeans, frantically helping him undo the annoying restriction of clothing. Breaking the kiss, they slid one pair of pants, then the other to the floor followed by their skimpy underwear.

With his partner flattened against the wall, Stephen captured his tongue between his lips, slowly sucking, firmly cradling his face in his hands……the sensation of immobility….his tongue mercilessly lodged between Stephen’s pulsing lips … was intoxicating. Stephen allowed the heat to build once again, both knowing what they wanted – they were like two animals, torn between prolonging the exquisite agony and needing the volcanic release.

Encircling their hard cocks in a single hand, still involuntarily pushing against each other, Stephen found their rhythm. God!!!! I could die like this! his willing friend thought….or better yet….I could live like this!….his fingers tickling the sensitive heads combining with Stephen’s pumping hand…..faster and faster….tighter and tighter….

And then he opened his eyes…..

ACT 4 – PAPERBACK WRITER

Stretching and yawning, he finally accepted how bone tired he really was. He’d spent the whole day attempting to write something worth reading. He supposed he’d made some progress, but it had been slow going. Finally, he’d flopped down on the couch only meaning to take a brief rest. Maybe a power nap would do the trick and jar some ideas that he knew existed in his brain out into the open. He didn’t expect his roommate to come home tonight. It was the weekend and that usually meant he’d disappear. Kurt never questioned where; in his mind it was none of his business. They were only roommates and he already had a mother.

They’d been roommates for about six months and his gaydar was usually pretty good, but he still wasn’t sure about his roomie. He’d seen him in social situations with both men and women and he seemed to be comfortable with either sex, but there was something about him. The information had never been offered and, being a private person himself, he’d never asked. Still….maybe he was bi? They’d met in a club one night when he was doing research for his book. He wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. He always laughed at that phrase now. One of his friends had jokingly said, “You’re as beautiful as a butterfly, but you’d rather stay in the cocoon!” Going out alone to bars took him outside of his comfort zone and he was all about comfort zones.

His first book had met with limited success, but success nonetheless. So, he’d gone in search of a roommate. His hope was that in doing so he could cut back to working only part-time, leaving twice as much time to devote to his latest venture. His writer’s group had been a possible source, but most of them were married. Should he get married? That would definitely provide a roommate, he chuckled at himself.

The club he’d chosen was an unknown to him. That had been intentional, too. He didn’t want to be interrupted by friends or acquaintances out for a night on the town. He wanted to shrink into a dark corner if he could find one and observe how people interacted. The club was in a gay community, making it appealing, but it wasn’t considered an exclusively gay club. He had his notebook beside him to jot down any ideas or impressions that might be helpful.

And live music was a definite plus! He liked to sample the variety of music this neighborhood offered. He would have preferred a quieter night, like a Thursday, but in order to gather intel for what he was writing, he needed a crowd or at least a lot of bodies to observe. He’d had his head buried in his notebook, his hand quickly writing down an idea when he heard a voice say, “Are you a reporter?” Looking up, he smiled at the questioner. “No, no, a writer…just gathering some ideas for a book.” “Oh, what kind of book?” was the next question, and then there was another and another until he couldn’t help but laugh and invited him to sit down. And the rest as they say far too often was history. Voila! A made-to-order roommate appeared!

ACT 5 – WHEN YOU’RE UP AGAINST THE WALL

No! Please God, no!!!! He didn’t want to see what he was seeing, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be on the other side of the country visiting family! This was so…..awkward! surreal! OMG!!!!! emb…well?!..hmmmmm….No! not really…it was actually sort of funny!…even comical! and then the try- anything-once part of his personality spoke up…..it’s kind of enjoyably obscene…..sinfully indecent! Zing! White heat traveled the length of his torso. How did that song go? Touchin’ you, touchin’ me, touchin’ you, God you’re touching me? It was like across the room their bodies had suddenly become irreversibly connected when their eyes met….this was crazy!

And reluctantly, he closed his eyes again….his hypersensitive body challenging him to turn his full attention back to the hands and lips accosting it.

ACT 6 – TRAPPED!

Kurt heard the clicking sound of the door being unlocked. What was he doing home? He was almost never home on a weekend….almost being the key word his sleep-addled brain hissed! When he got the call from his aunt he should have sent a text saying plans had changed….but he hadn’t. He’d been so concerned about his uncle and niece……and Aunt Olga insisted he didn’t need to be there. It would be better when everyone recovered. And he supposed she was right, there was absolutely nothing he could do back home. So his trip was off at least for the time being…but he’d never thought to send a text; he’d been so preoccupied with making note of room numbers and doctor’s names.

And now here he was, wide awake, trapped on the couch, while an apparent tryst occurred right in front of him! And hard as he tried he couldn’t find a way to make himself much smaller. The room was completely dark except for some light from the alcove windows. He hoped like hell that the lighting was dim enough that he couldn’t be seen, but so far it wasn’t working out that way for his couch-bound self.

They were almost directly in his line of vision. If this was anyone else he might find this funny and his roommate, Mr. Uninhibited, would probably laugh right along with him, but all he could think about was what he was trying not to watch and the explanations that would have to be made later. It was probably the only time in his life when he wished he was deaf and blind! And completely against his will he was getting a hard-on…

He was mesmerized, both of them now completely naked. And there was no longer any doubt that he was either bi or gay. Whoever was with him was definitely a man….with a body that just wouldn’t quit or at least not from his viewpoint from the rear. The dim lighting obscured his view only a little making it even more difficult to look away. He tried to convince himself he wasn’t enjoying this…..that being an unwilling voyeur wasn’t stimulating, but…as much as he didn’t want to think this way….it was hot! Incredibly hot!

His roommate was backed up against the wall on the far side of the room, his hands tightly gripping the other guy’s ass, his fingernails digging deep, kissing him passionately eliciting a powerful groan. His body shuddered as the reverberations traveled through his very core relinquishing power to his hand. They were frotting. He tried not release the whimper forming in his throat.

But it wasn’t his fault! his mind screamed trying to defend his involuntary reaction. His eyes were glued to the unknown guy’s ass alternating with his roommate’s face. The face he saw almost every morning at the breakfast table. Unconsciously, he squeezed his hand tighter around his prick seeking to satisfy his own lust……without making any noise whatsoever!

Then suddenly those familiar eyes popped open, having released their kiss, and he caught the steady stare from across the room. First it was a look of surprise, but then it slowly turned to a sort of gleeful self-satisfied glance. Like he was almost glad Kurt was there watching, like he was enjoying this unplanned exhibition for his eyes only, like he knew exactly what he was thinking and even more embarrassing, doing. No! He didn’t see what he thought he saw….was that a wink? Wow! No….it just wasn’t…..could he have really been that bold? And why? Then the eyes slipped closed appearing to again be oblivious to his roommate’s shocked presence, falling back into the cauldron of heat and lust between he and his partner.

ACT 7 – WINK!

Stepping from the warmth of the shower, he caught his reflection in the mirror while wrapping a bath sheet around his waist. His mind now clearer, he winked at himself, feeling even bolder than he had earlier. The next few minutes might be some sort of turning point and he’d wanted to be ready.

Towel-drying his tangled hair, he padded into the living room. There was Kurt, his eyes examining the ceiling, no pretense of pretending to be asleep. With a sheepish smile, he said, “…um I’m really sorry about…that…” “No, no, I should have texted you,” came the rush of words attempting to overcome the awkwardness of the moment, “I just got wrapped up in…” Kurt said haltingly and finally went on to explain why his trip was postponed, “and you do live here….it’s no big deal….” God, Kurt! Who are you kidding, of course it was a big deal!

Nervously gnawing his bottom lip, he thought, Hmmm….was now the time to try to gauge Kurt’s feelings? Did they go beyond friendship? Beyond just liking the guy who paid half the rent?

“Let me guess, you didn’t know for sure if I was gay, did you?” Not the first time this had happened. It was his life and his business. He didn’t see any need to declare it to a morbidly curious world. A heavy sigh, “Um, no, not exactly….I thought maybe ya know….but it’s none of my business really…..” Kurt’s words stumbled over each other. “Well, then, how about if I make it your business?”

“No!” the tension in Kurt’s voice evident, “you don’t have to do that…I just need to get better at communicating and remembering I don’t live alone anymore…” “Oookaaaay….so maybe I don’t need to do it…..but what if I want to?”

“Why would you want…look, now I know. Probably not the best way to find out…” Kurt sort of chuckled. So cute! Squirming in his own skin…..uncomfortable…very, very cute! Tearing his mind away from the cuteness factor, he reminded himself that he was dead serious about getting this out in the open. Maybe they had a chance at something meaningful or maybe not, but he’d never know if he didn’t walk through the door of opportunity he’d been given.

His feet metaphorically on the ledge, he took the plunge, “May I be blunt?” “Sure, I guess…” Kurt mumbled. “Tell me, what were you feeling watching us?” Kurt’s face flushed scarlet, “At first, embarrassed I guess? I kept imagining our conversation after..um, now…but then….” He rolled his eyes upward and sighed again, “well, you already know that it was a turn-on…I could see it in your eyes when you…um…” Geez! Why don’t you just get a bulldozer and complete the grave you’re digging?

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might find you attractive? That I might like it if you thought of me as more than just a roommate?” “But…,” Kurt protested, “we had this discussion when we met. We both said we were only interested in a roommate, a possible friendship. It’s one of the reasons I thought you might not be gay….or bi maybe.”

“And I knew you were gay and at the time I was glad to find the roommate I was looking for. But as I got to know you those feelings sort of changed and believe me…I tried to ignore them! The few times you went out on a date, if I was here, I found myself feeling jealous. I didn’t say anything because we’d both been so adamant about not wanting….anything….a romance….I….”

“Jealous? Really? But none of those “dates,” Kurt put in air quotes, “went anywhere…..” “But I didn’t know that was how it was going to turn out….” his roomie said, “I never wanted to admit it, but I was always relieved when you came home….I….”

Kurt couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “So..then last night…..that look in your eye when we made….um….eye contact…..you looked almost….how do I say this…..triumphant? Like….you were sort of saying….” “Like I was saying you could have this if you really wanted it…..yeah, triumphant probably fits.”

“You did wink at me, didn’t you? I wasn’t imagining it!” They both laughed. And then they went silent. “So….are you interested?” “I guess so, yeah….,” Kurt stumbled again trying to get used to the idea. He laughed, “Well, don’t be so enthusiastic!” “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I like what I know of you from the last six months….it’s just I haven’t thought of you…that way….I just wasn’t sure….”

“Wow, roomie!” Javi nudged Kurt’s shoulder, “So that’s the sample of how to create a fantasy you’re going to present to your class? Isn’t bringing another person into the mix like that a little….what am I trying to say…advanced? I mean even you and I haven’t fulfilled that kind of fantasy. And you’re going to ask them to write their own, no names, and then exchange them so no one knows which fantasy was written by who? Hmmmm….very interesting.”

“What did you mean when you said you’d like us to try this fantasy? Who’s going to be the so-called third party, lovebug? Who’s going to be watching whom? I can’t very well push myself up against a wall and pretend I’m having sex with someone who isn’t there, can I? You aren’t thinking of a blowup doll are you?” Javi was doing his best to get under Kurt’s skin, but Kurt wasn’t taking the bait.

“Look, I don’t know exactly how it’ll play out….we’re very good at pretending, ya know. Or maybe we can read the parts to each other as if we’re reading a story to create some heat.”

“You aren’t really serious about ever trying that are you? I mean not exactly a threesome, but….the whole voyeur thing? I’ve tried a lot of things, and I have to admit I’ve always been curious about voyeurism, but….Kurt, I don’t think I could handle watching you….or you watching me for that matter……I’m secure in our love but maybe not that secure…”

“No, of course I don’t want to actually do this literally, but….when I was writing it I was sort of thinking about….I can’t believe I’m saying this…..this is so NOT me or….it wasn’t me….”

“Someone watching us……that’s what you’re thinking aren’t you? Wow! You’re right! If the Kurt Hummel of a year ago would have said that? Geez, I don’t know how I’d have reacted! But neither one of us is who we were a year ago. You and I have considered things Tonio and I never….”

“We’re not having this discussion….we’re not! Who would we trust with….that. Not to mention who would we feel comfortable with watching….Javi, you have a career to think of! I realize you’ve managed to hide me for over a year, but we’re talking about…..I don’t know what we’re talking about! This is crazy!”

Blaine was surprised he’d actually made it through the play without screwing up any of his parts. With shaky hands he’d texted Jeff, having just locked the guest room door behind him. He felt ridiculous, but fear had overridden ridiculous by a long shot. He was meeting Jeff at IHOP at 11. He’d hesitated only a few seconds as he was texting Jeff wondering if talking to Kurt or Javi first might make more sense. And then he realized none of this made sense!

No! He lived with Jeff! The room was in their apartment. They’d figure this out together first…and then if they needed to they could always bring in other people. Now there was a laugh! Bring in other people? Suddenly, it felt like there were more “people” involved than there had been just this afternoon. As he opened the restaurant door, the scent of breakfast reminded him that no matter what he was hungry….and he desperately needed his lover now!