Charlie and I had sex that night. It was okay.
I thought we'd have more of a connection, but he didn't seem to match my energy. It lasted a whole four and a half minutes, I think, and he fell asleep after. Years, I waited, for this trip to pound town and it was incredibly disappointing.
Instead of sleeping beside him, I went and bugged Georgia, who could tell I wasn't pleased with his performance by my attitude. I had to listen to her ugly cackle for five straight minutes, 30 seconds longer than Charlie's dick could stay up. We messed around for a while. She taught me some dance for TikTok and we did it for the camera, which ended in another burst of laughter.
Eventually I called it quits and decided I was tired as a bitch, my ass was sore, and I had leftover spaghetti in the fridge calling my name. Georgia pouted and trapped me in a cuddle session for another thirty minutes before releasing me to go.
When I got home, Xavier was sitting on the porch swing again, feet dangling as he barely moved forward and back. I narrowed my eyes at him.
"It's only nine. John would be mad if you came home this early?" I asked, looking over to the still lit house next door.
He sighed. "Do you wanna' go for a run?"
I grimaced. Like I said, despite the ass pounding only lasting a moment, my rear end was still a little sore and working on his project was the last thing on my to-do list for the night.
His eyes plead a different question though. It was almost like a cry for help, a need for a distraction. I glanced at my front door, then back at Xavier.
"I'll only film a second of it and then we'll leave my camera here and just relax. No strings attached."
I frowned and closed my eyes, forcing myself to bite my tongue back from hissing an unnecessary comment. I couldn't say no when he looked seconds away from imploding. I told him to wait a second while I changed and grabbed some water.
When I came back out, Xavier was kneeled down with his camera to his face, looking at something on the ground. "Look at this tiny snail," he giggled, pulling his phone flashlight out for a better shot.
I leaned against the door, just watching him. He was so unlike the picture I'd painted of him throughout the years. He didn't have red horns or a pointy tail. He was compassionate and had a soft spot for snails.
"Ready?" I asked, pocketing my own cell phone and sticking an ear bud into my ear with some soft music playing.
He nodded, taking the water bottle I was holding out for him. We ran through a cheesy introduction to late night runs, an easy contribution for this day's film slot. I bullshit the whole thing and explained the 'importance of mental health' and how it's important to 'blow off steam when life gets to be too much' or something.
"And what do you listen to to keep your blood pumping during these jogs?"
I pulled my phone out and displayed the screen, where I was proudly listening to In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins. He laughed loudly on the other side of the camera and got a presumably great shot of my ass with a clip of me running off.
He left his camera in my mailbox and we hit the road. I slowed my pace to accommodate him. He was an athlete in high school but I'm sure their conditioning wasn't as hardcore as my daily regime. I went hard on myself because I had no one to compete with but me.
I must have been cringing at the uncomfortable friction this running was causing below the belt, because Xavier nudged my arm. "What's wrong?"
Laughing humorlessly, I waved him off. "Nothing, just a little sore," I said vaguely. He didn't look away from the side of my head, though, and pushed it.
"From what? I didn't take up that much room in your bed, did I?"
"What? No," I rolled my eyes.
I wasn't going to spell out anal for him. He was a smart boy sometimes, I figured he could figure it out eventually. Put two and two together, maybe? I waited patiently for his reaction but it didn't come until a few quiet minutes later.
"Ew!" he cried out.
This made me laugh a little too loudly, my chortle echoing off the lonely stop signs and empty streets. I loved running at this time, to be quite honest. No one was around to awkwardly smile at me with tight pressed lips, leaving me no choice but to reciprocate. I didn't generally like company, but Xavier wasn't talking enough for it to bother me.
"Don't knock it 'til you try it," I joked, knowing that would never happen.
But then I thought about it. Too much.
I thought back to his shirtless body in the window, feeling almost on display for my eyes only. I thought of when he was concentrating on fixing his camera settings and his long fingers fiddled with the buttons agitatedly, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. I imagined his hand on my abdomen again, so soft but with clear intentions. My breathing grew unsteady and I lost my pace, so I dragged him with me to sit down on the curb to catch my breath.
He scoffed. "Can't keep up, Bradford?"
God only knows, I thought to myself. Was he rough in bed? Was he painfully vanilla like Charlie made me suffer through tonight? Was he gentle and sensual? Of course, sex with women was an entirely different play style, but would he treat me like a submissive, little --
I had to stop this. Realizing I hadn't answered him and he was looking at me like I had a third nostril, I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. "Got a little winded. Didn't stretch," I lied, cradling my head in my hands.
His phone buzzed in my pocket, since he'd asked me to hold it since his gym shorts didn't have any. I pulled it out, holding it for him but he didn't acknowledge it at first. It grew incessant and didn't appear to me stopping any time soon, so he finally snatched it away and turned it over. My nosy ass couldn't stop myself from reading Jade on the screen. I looked away, knowing it wasn't my place but preparing my ears to eavesdrop.
"Yo," he answered casually. I couldn't hear what Jade was saying, but he looked pleased. Occupying myself with untying and retying my tennis shoe, I heard him lowly chuckle, "Nothing, I'm out on a run."
I looked at his face. He was chewing on the inside of his lip and picking at a scab on his knee absentmindedly.
"I dunno' . . . like, thirty minutes. I'll come over after that." Pause. "Yeah, you know I will." Pause. "Damn. Sounds good. I'll see you in, like, forty-five minutes."
Well, wasn't that just typical? I literally had to catch my breath after accidentally fantasizing about this man, and in the same span of less than five minutes, he made an appointment for his dick. Without realizing it, I grew very, very salty. My whole demeanor changed and I pushed myself off the ground. He handed me the phone once more and I pocketed it.
I now actually did want to blow off some steam.
Was there a part of me that thought he would ever actually get with me? And if there was, why? This was Xavier, I was talking about. I hated him. Maybe not anymore, but there were no feelings of fondness or attraction. Or, god forbid, lust! Why was I so pressed over the idea of him having a booty call?
He hummed next to me as we ran once more. I thought about saying something snide, but decided against it. Sometimes, it was better to just ignore all the pessimistic things my brain came up with and just be the bigger person. That is, until he decides not to first.
"Do you always get it up the butt or do you switch around sometimes?"
I sucked on my teeth and shoved him to the side, making him lose his footing and almost go down. "Do you always speak with your butt or do you switch around and use your mouth sometimes?"
"That sucked," he laughed, shoving me back. "But you're used to that, so . . ."
Well. He can't say he didn't ask to be pushed into the pond on our right, because he really did. With all my might, I shoved him once more, and this time his body couldn't catch himself from falling into the shallow, murky depths of the neighborhood's decorative pond. I put a hand over my mouth to stifle the laughter that threatened to escape into the night. He gasped in shock, the water still settling around him.
Xavier stood up and I booked it. I just simply ran in circles in the street with him chasing me in an amusing Charlie Chaplin-esque style.
I knew I was going to get submerged either way, so I figured I'd make him work for it. I wasn't going to be let off easy for that one. If there was nothing else I knew about Xavier de León, it was that he had a knack for getting revenge. Finally, I felt his arms around my middle as he used all the strength in his body to hoist me up over his shoulder.
Well, that would have been kind of hot if he didn't smell like a duck.
"Wait, I have your phone in my pocket!" I yelled victoriously, knowing he wouldn't dare throw me in with our precious devices in my possession. He grunted and reached up, sliding his fingers deep into my pocket, which made me freeze.
Jesus H, he just grazed my dick.
There wasn't any time for any more horny thoughts as he tossed our phones and my ear buds onto the ground and led me to the pond with me gripping his t-shirt for dear life. He dropped me in the water where he once laid and stared down at me.
He didn't seem angry, more frustrated than anything. But he was smiling ever so slightly. I laughed some more, kicking his legs out from underneath him which made him fall down in the water with me. It smelled awful and I could only imagine what the flock of ducks that ran my neighborhood secreted into these waters.
"You're dead," Xavier muttered, tackling me.
We wrestled around in the water for a minute or two before it all became too real. I felt the freezing cold water on my skin and felt our knees touch, submerged by this secret bond we were forming.
I couldn't look away from him. Something about him was just almost hypnotic. I must've grown quiet and stopped splashing without realizing because he calmed down as well. All I could hear was our unsynchronized breathing and the sound of a car driving past. He was staring at me, too, like he wanted to say something.
He spit water out of his mouth and started to wade towards the edge. "Come on, Bradford. I got somewhere to be," was all he said and I felt dejected again.
What. The. Hell?
I knew I spent all this time just trying to convince myself that his company was a nuisance. But I think I came to an understanding. I was starting to like Xavier. I didn't know how much, or how little, or however. But things were getting weird.
"Wouldn't wanna' keep the lady waiting," I muttered, mostly to myself but he heard me.
I felt his gaze on me so I met him halfway, our eyes linking. His hair was dripping wet. His shirt clung to his body like it was going to lose him, his shorts sagging a little. I couldn't help my eyes roaming downward for a split second, without making it too obvious, when he lifted his shirt to ring it out. When I looked back up, he swallowed harshly and turned away, grabbing his phone from the ground.
"Yeah, heh," he chuckled. "Met this girl who plays soccer at the college. Fine as hell, but she won't leave me alone."
It was then that I decided I was a fucking fool. Who was I to be jealous of a girl I'd never met, over a guy who thought gay sex was gross?
So I pretended. Like I did with any straight guy I thought was cute. There were plenty of gay fish in the sea and it was not worth it to pine after one uninterested shark. I plastered a fake smile on my face and tried to squeeze the water out of my shorts.
We jogged back to my house, not wanting to finish the lap around the block soaked. Xavier grabbed his camera out of the mailbox and nodded, not saying another word to me. I scoffed to myself when he was almost to his door. I didn't want to say goodbye anyways.
Once inside, I showered and changed into some warm clothes. My family was downstairs getting ready for movie night, popcorn cooking on the stove and an array of candies already sitting on the coffee table.
My mom opened her arms for me to cuddle into her side, to which I obliged easily. "I'm proud of you for putting your differences aside with Xavier, my love," she said warmly.
I rolled my eyes, resting my head on her lap just as Dad walked in. He and Dakota took their places in the recliner and next to Mom quietly. "Yeah, well. I hate every second of it," I muttered, though I knew I was lying to myself, feeling her fingers in my hair. "I went on a date with Charlie Haverty today."
"That's Georgia's brother, right?" Dad asked, flicking off the table lamp.
"He's hot," Dakota said cheekily.
Mom wouldn't let it go. "Xavier's a good boy. You know he's been through a lot," she said. "And I thought Charlie lived out of town?"
"Only forty-five minutes out. He comes back for the weekends sometimes," I explained.
She was right, though, about Xavier. He had been through a lot. I didn't know exactly what happened with his parents but I knew Dayla and John didn't take him in for shits and giggles. He seemed mostly happy as a kid, but at times I saw a reserved and emotionless body moving to the beat of a seven year old. He didn't open up much.
We watched the movie in a comfortable quiet, the occasional commentary from Dakota who never shut up. Always pointing out actors she recognized or when she saw a background character doing something funny. I pretended that I hated it but I loved our movie nights. I closed my eyes, munching on a peanut M&M, basking in the warmth of my family.
I didn't plan on staying at home forever. I was twenty-two and comfortable. Not to mention broke. I couldn't afford to live on my own yet, and that was okay.
College wasn't for me. I tried for a semester and hated it. It made me depressed and stressed and I cried more times in those few months than I did as a baby. I came crying back to my mom and she encouraged me to drop out. We both knew better than to force me through something that made me miserable.
For now, this was my life. I helped with the deli and lived at home.
Dakota would probably get a scholarship to some expensive college for track. And she'd probably love it. She was good like that. At everything, I mean. I could probably stick her in a halfway house in the middle of Maine and she'd probably find a way to enjoy herself and make the best of it.
At the end of the movie, I got drunk in bed and thought about everything that's happened. Hooking up with Charlie and realizing I was unfortunately attracted to Xavier.
What a joke.
Finding him attractive was like thinking the baby raccoon you find on the side of the road is cute. Sure, it's got the doe eyes and it lets you wrap it in a blanket. But it'll bite you in the end, and eventually give you rabies, and you will die. That's what crushing on Xavier was like. Rabies waiting to happen.
With a sigh, I shut my eyes tightly.
~:~:~
I was refilling napkin dispensers the next day when the bell chimed over the door.
Xavier strolled in, camera in hand, a sly smile on his face. He was wearing a light blue tee and tight black jeans, and he looked good. Neat. Clean. His tattoos snaking up his arms looked different today.
"You look happy," I hummed, taking in the skip in his step and how his skin was sort of glowing. "I take it the soccer player was good?"
Xavier smiled even bigger, a smile I hadn't seen before. It was nice and stretched across his pink lips enticingly. I closed the dispenser up and returned it back to the table on the right.
I audibly gasped when I felt Xavier walk up behind me and press his body against my back. I couldn't help it, what the fuck? I turned around against my own accord and faced him, his arms locking me in against the table edge. My eyes widened, breathing quickening. "What are you–"
Then his lips were on mine. I kissed back immediately, no hesitation on my part. No thoughts entered or exited my brain because all I could feel was hot. I was lifted up into the booth table and he pushed between my legs. I tangled my hands in his dark hair that I never knew I wanted to feel until that very moment.
"I know you want me, Bradford–" he breathed against my neck and then ran his tongue along my skin. I shuddered, lolling my head back to allow his teeth to graze against my earlobe. "I see the way you look at me. I know you want me to fuck you so good."
I groaned, pressing my hands flat against his shoulder blades, sliding them down his lean back. He kissed me again for only a moment before he dropped to his knees in front of me, face level with my crotch.
My jaw slackened and I immediately grew hard.
"Come on, Bradford. Let me see what you've got," he said seductively. I stared down at him ecstasy. He cocked his head to the side, looping his fingers into my pockets. "Harry?"
And then I woke up.
The silence in my room deafened me, inducing a ringing in my brain that pounded rhythmically. I looked around desperately, seeing that I was alone and of course, had a problem in my pants.
I groaned, slamming my pillow over my face. What the everloving fuck was that?
This was getting out of control. I couldn't face Xavier today after dreaming that I was about to get sucked off by him! Why couldn't I have dreamed about Charlie instead? Or the guy from the bar? And why did it have to be at my work?
According to the digital clock on my nightstand, it was six in the morning, approximately six hours earlier than I liked to wake up. But the adrenaline running through my veins was a sure fire sign that I wouldn't be getting anymore sleep. That, and the pitched tent in my pants.
I hit the gym after a long, steaming shower and tried not to think about tattoos or hazel eyes.