Fragile Threads [boyxboy]

Fragile Threads

“What about your parents?” the guy stressed.

“My mom knows, I’m sure. I didn’t tell her, but I dropped some pretty obvious hints. ‘don’t you think he’s hot too, mom?’ and so on.” Ethan wanted to hide. He probably wasn’t being too helpful—no courageous story about how his friends all knew and supported, no tear-jerking coming out story of acceptance to his mother. 

“But I mean, people are different,” Ethan tried to correct it. Apparently he was the more seasoned gay guy here. He couldn’t be a letdown. “If they don’t openly hate, that’s a good sign. And then maybe just probe. Bring up politics of it; see if they state their opinion.” These were all ideas that Ethan had gotten from a few coming out forums that he had never used.

“I was just asking,” the guy chuckled slightly. “I’m not out, but that’s my own choice, not because I’m afraid of rejection or anything. I’m only trying to have a conversation.”

“With me blindfolded,” Ethan pointed out. “Kinda hard to think you don’t have some motive here.”

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. “I am interested in you, yes, but again, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll just settle for talking right now, since I doubt you trust me for anything more.”

“I’m not exactly in a position to say no to anything,” Ethan snapped, some of that fear clawing its way back up his throat. “I probably couldn’t stop you from doing anything to me.”

He sighed. He stepped closer, and Ethan tensed up. A hand cupped the side of his face. “I know this probably isn’t the best approach here,” the guy explained. “And I’ll admit, I’ve had a beer or two myself, and maybe a few hits of marijuana,”

“Is that what that smoke smell is?” Ethan asked, scrunching up his nose.

A faint laugh. “Yes, I’m sure your parents are proud. You hate beer and you don’t even know the smell of weed.”

Ethan wasn’t sure if he was being made fun of or not, and he didn’t quite like it. And the guy had been watching him enough to see him toss the beer earlier.

“And as I was saying, this probably isn’t the best approach, but it’s really the only one I can come up with without you seeing who I am.”

“You don’t trust me?” Ethan decided to throw some of that back in his face.

“I have trust issues, yes. But not with you. Are you going to make me out as a bad guy for just wanting one person who I can be myself with?”

Well, shit. Now that made Ethan feel guilty. That was probably the point. He didn’t know if he liked it.

The hand on his face slid down and around the back off his neck. “If you want me to go away, I’ll respect that. But please be serious about it, not just because you’re not sure.” His breath landed on Ethan’s face, and before he could stop it, lips pressed over his. They pulled back just as quickly, though. “I want to build something with you, Ethan. What, is up to you. But you can always tell me no.” Another kiss, lasting a few seconds this time. “Okay?”

Ethan swallowed hard. It was a risk, but… trust was seeming to play a part. Could he trust this guy? Maybe. He could get burned too, though. But then all he had to do was take off the blindfold. And the fact he could do that, was an act of trust extended towards him. “Fine,” Ethan agreed reluctantly.

The lips pressed back over his, and he could have sworn he felt a smile. Ethan awkwardly returned the kiss, trying not to let his inexperience shine. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was one of few. Very few. And even less, to the point of microscopic, had had tongue involve.

This one was escalating with tongue. It felt weird, but it felt good at the same time. Ethan tentatively slid a hand up the guy’s shoulder and around his neck and up into short hair. He was muscled. Ethan tried to quell that little bit of panic in his stomach, to push away the thought that he was vulnerable.

Ethan gasped when he felt himself being pulled closer, his body being pressed hard up against the other. He was solid and warm. It felt good. The jean clad hard-on pressing into his hip was a little awkward though. This was sadly the limit of Ethan’s experience.

Ethan pulled back to catch his breath for a moment, but… “stop.”

To his credit, the guy did. He pulled his hands off and took a step back, leaving Ethan to sway slightly in uncertainty. A firm hand landed on his shoulder though, giving him a sense of place again. “You okay?” he asked.

“Fine. That was just… as far as I’m willing to go.” Right now, anyways. Who knew. He still wasn’t too sure about this.

“Okay,” he sounded a little bit disappointed, but he didn’t pressure it. “Will you see me Monday evening?”

Ethan had nothing better to do. He had the computer. “I don’t know.” He could pretend to be busy.

The guy sighed. “Alright. Can I have your cell phone number, then? I can text you.”

Ethan nodded and gave over his number. The guy did the same and put his number into Ethan’s phone. “I’m in there as Unknown.” The guy explained and put the phone back into the palm of Ethan’s hand. “I’ll talk to you when I talk to you.”

The door unlocked, and he seemed to be gone. Ethan took off his blind fold, feeling slightly stupid. He tucked what turned out to be a shirt into his pocket, and went back downstairs. No one seemed out of place or paying special attention to him.

What had just happened?