Charles
I take a deep breath in and out. I don't know the last time I got so stressed, but I'm throwing everything on one card. I may lose my best friend, a man who has helped me so much and a man for whom I felt something and it is not friendship. I'm afraid of what will happen if she rejects me. Will he let me continue to be next to him? Will he leave? How will I cope when he is gone? I know I have plenty of other people, but none of them is Max. I want him, not the others.
I drink a third glass of water, continuing to feel the dryness in my throat. My palms are sweating, my heart is beating fast and unevenly, and I feel like falling asleep and waking up afterwards. I count to six in my mind, until suddenly I hear a knock on the door. Pierre left a while ago, saying he would wait with sweets if things didn't go well. Asshole.
I quickly straighten up, walking to the door. I open it, and the stress disappears when I see Max smiling at me, leaning against the door frame.
"Hey." I say quietly, uncontrollably reciprocating the smile.
"Hey." He replies, waiting for me to let him in. Feeling like a moron, I step back, allowing him to enter, and close the door behind him as he removes his shoes. "So what's up?" he asks as we walk toward the living room. I sit down on the couch, drawing my legs to my chest. The boy sits down next to me, grimacing softly. "It's nothing." He says immediately when he sees my frightened face.
"Okay... So... Damn, that's heavy." I laugh, wanting to somehow defuse the tense atmosphere. "As for the earlier conversation... Please don't interrupt me, because then I won't be able to say anything anymore. Well, so after that kiss, all the way to Monaco I thought about what I had done. I also talked a lot with Pierre, who helped me understand a few things, and I came to the conclusion that I don't want to be your friend anymore if you also feel the way I do. I'm not able to tell you that I love you, but it's definitely not just friendship anymore. I'll understand if you don't want to, because you don't feel it and you're straight. I hope, however, in if you don't want to, we will continue to be friends, because I want to be in your life. But if you want to try it... I'm not in a position to confess love to you now, because I don't know what I feel. I would like to... With small steps expand our relationship and see what comes out of it. If it doesn't work out, it's hard, and if it works out, I know I'll be the happiest man in the world." I say everything in one breath, and as I finish my speech, I look fearfully at Max's face, from which I can't make out anything. He looks at me in silence, analyzing my words.
I regret this decision more and more every second. I think I acted rashly, claiming it was a good plan to tell him the truth. I could have disobeyed Pierre and kept quiet, because now I would lose Max forever, and I really want to be close.
"If..."
"Baby steps?" he interrupts me when I already want to back off. I part my lips in surprise, only to close them a moment later and nod affirmatively with a gentle smile. "Yes, we can do it in small steps." He adds, trying to hold back a smile.
"What?" I ask puzzled. "Aren't you making fun of me? Do you really want to be with me someday? Yes in a relationship? Not as friends? Do you feel something for me?" I ask further questions, which causes him to laugh. "Well Max! This is serious!" I say out loud, indignant.
"I'm not kidding, Charles. You are wonderful, I also feel something for you, and yes, I want to be in a relationship with you someday. Are you satisfied with such an answer?"
"Damn." I smile broadly, feeling joy blowing me away from the inside. All stress went into oblivion as soon as I heard his words. Who would have thought that from such a strange relationship something like what we have now would emerge.
The boy moves closer to me, and I sit, not moving. I follow his every move with my eyes, waiting to see what he will do, even though I know exactly where this is going. I try to bite my cheek so that I don't smile any more, like a moron, when Max looks at me with sparks in his eyes. Only now do I see what it all means. He looks at me as if no one but me exists. It's like there's no option that anyone else can appear in his life. It's so damn cute that someone like him feels so much for someone like me.
"Baby steps, remember?" I ask quietly when his face his very close to mine.
"Mhm..." He mumbles, placing a quick kiss on my lips. "Baby steps." He repeats after me, teasing me. The boy gently pushes me so that I fall with my back against the couch. He takes the opportunity to get between my legs. Our lips are close together, and as I inhale his scent, I forget what I said a moment ago. Fuck small steps, I want his.
He smiles roguishly, looking at me intently. Finally, I can't stand it and entangle my legs around his waist, pulling him close. And it's a moment when his lips find their way to my neck. I moan, weaving my hand into his hair as he places wet kisses on my skin. I tilt my head back, ceasing to think rationally. All I can think of in my head is the Red Bull driver, and I don't know myself if that's wise. This shouldn't happen, but I'm not going to give up on him. We can be a secret after all. The boy slides his kisses lower and lower, biting the skin on my collarbone. I pull him by the hair and direct him closer to my lips, I want to kiss him. However, when he is so close that our lips almost touch.... Max turns his head, making my lips touch his cheek for half a second. I pull away surprised to see the satisfaction on his face.
"Baby steps, Charles." He reminds me of my words and gets up from me, which I reluctantly allow him to do. Disappointed, I begin to regret my words, as I will now be tormented every time.
I rise to sit down, watching his face carefully. The bruise is even more visible than before. Without asking, I extend my hand toward his shirt, and the boy, seeing what I mean, does not protest. He leans against the back of the couch, and I roll up his shirt, looking at the yellow-purple bruises that cover most of his abdomen and ribs. I clench my jaws, feeling sadness and anger at the same time.
"Does it hurt?" I ask quietly.
"Yea. But you know what supposedly works for pain? Kisses." He smiles innocently, and I am reminded of Pierre's words before leaving my house. You can handle it, he looks at you like a puppy in love, so I won't have to come to comfort you. I hold my breath, feeling a strange euphoria in my stomach. Because I can see it. I see in his eyes what everyone has been telling me for so long, and I didn't want to see it. Now I know it's true, and the feeling I get at this is indescribable. I feel appreciated, more than I should be.
"Baby steps, Max." I wink at him, but before he has time to say anything, I lean over and place a kiss on his ribs. With a wide smile, I return to my previous position, looking at his face. "Do you have ointment with you or should I go to the pharmacy?" I add, reminding myself that he should grease it. I lower his shirt, getting up from the couch.
"I don't, but you're not going anywhere alone at this hour." He also rises, clenching his jaws in pain.
"Max, I'm not a child, and you feel bad, so..."
"Then we're not going at all, because I won't let you go alone." He interrupts me. I know I can't win with him, because when he insists on something, no one will baffle him. I give up on my plan, sighing loudly, and nod reluctantly. He smiles immediately, pleased with my decision, and walks over to me, placing his hands on my hips. Damn, I love it when he does that. "So what are our plans for the evening?" he lowers his tone of voice, sending chills down my spine.
"You need to rest so that nothing hurts you, and I'll do job as a masseur." I suggest, throwing my arms around his neck. I guess we just look like teenage girls who are totally in love with each other.
"A massage? I like the idea."
"Of course I don't promise you won't end up with something broken, of course."
"Of course." He parries amused as I remove my hands from his body. He takes his hands off my hips and walks toward the bedroom.
That's not the end of the bad talk. Still to come is what he doesn't want to confess to me. His problems. I want to help him, but I know that in time it will be easier to get it out of him, so I have to be patient and wait for the right moment, because I definitely won't let go of either his bad mood or this beating. He has helped me more than once, so now I will help him whether he wants it or not.
"You will be my first client." I say proudly, although I should probably keep it to myself. The amused boy lies down comfortably on the bed, glancing in my direction.
"Probably the first victim." He pretends to be sad and turns on his stomach as I take out massage oils from the cabinet. It may be strange to have them at home, but my trainer often comes to me to massage my muscles after a workout or a run. With my talent, I often need it, accidentally stretching something. "Are we leaving this for us for now?" he asks quietly, afraid of my reaction. I help take off his shirt, nodding.
"Yes. I definitely need a rest before Daniel and Pierre start talking to me again and writing unsavory messages about you." I laugh, recalling all those texts. I climb onto the bed and sit down around his legs so that I'm comfortable. To him it doesn't have to be.
"Massage therapists don't sit on clients." He raises his eyebrows. "Really? What did they write?" he glances in my direction curiously.
"Seriously no? I'm the special masseur." I open the package from the massage oil. "Sweet secret, baby." I wink at him, to which he rests his cheek against the pillow again in displeasure.
I spread the oil on his back and try not to hurt him as I gently rub his muscles from the center of his spine to his sides. He doesn't want anything to happen to him because of me.
"Charles, harder." he mumbles into the pillow.
"Relax, we're not at that stage of the relationship yet." I joke to myself, to which I am met with his embarrassed look. "I don't want to hurt you." I add seriously.
"Now you're hurting me by spoiling a good massage." He buries his face in the pillow. Amused, I start kneading his muscles much harder. I move to his shoulders, run my thumbs along his spine, and I myself don't know how I know so much about massage, since I'm doing it for the first time, but I'll humbly say that I'm as awesome at it as I am at everything else.
"Jesus..." my smile widens as I hear Max's voice in the quiet room talking to himself, still hiding his face in the pillow.
"Will you change your masseur to me?"
"You're, not that good, Charles." He laughs, turning his face to look at me.
"Too bad." I sigh theatrically, pretending to be sad. "You'll still come back with your tail tucked for another massage." I add, specifically poking my fingers into his muscles, at which he groans in pain. "Oh dear." I pretend to be surprised and stand up, handing him a T-shirt.
"You're mean." He rises reluctantly, putting on his shirt.
I roll my eyes at his words and go to the bathroom to wash my hands. I hate having creams and oils on my hands, because then everything I touch gets sticky. It feels awful. I suddenly flinch as I glance at my reflection in the mirror and see Max behind me.
"Don't scared me." I put my hand on my chest, feeling my heart beating hard.
"Will you go on a date with me?"
I stop washing my hands, standing still. I look in shock at the boy in the mirror, who is looking at me intently. I don't know what to do. I don't know if it would be a good idea to refuse or if agreeing would be better.
"Relax, I'm not going to propose to you there. It's just a date." He adds, amused by my reaction, which I can't hide, helps me calm down. I turn off the water, turning to face the Red Bull driver. "Please?" he adds, acting again, like a whipped puppy, making me unable to say the word no. It's too cute.
"Yes, Max. I'll go on a date with you. But it's just a date, because..."
"Baby steps, I remember, Charles." He interrupts me, smiling broadly.
I reciprocate the smile, feeling warmth spreading through my insides. The sight of a happy Max is the best sight I've ever seen.