[FIC] Love and Sex 7/8

[clayangel.livejournal.com]

Title: Love and Sex
Author: Clay
Pairings: Mainly Chip/Wayne and Chip/Drew, but there’s also Wayne/Drew, Ryan/Colin, Greg/Brad, and a mention of Greg/Ryan. Yes, my little Whose Line soap opera. Chip’s POV
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 over all, but most chapters are just R
Summary: “They had been friends who had taken to helping each other out with certain problems when they were away from their wives. Add feelings to the mix, however, and the situation would become far more complicated.”




Drew stepped past me into the room. I motioned for him to take a seat on the bed, but he simply shook his head.

“I’m not staying long,” he said. He was looking around the room, his eyes everywhere but on me. From his actions, I’d say he was nervous, but when he spoke he sounded calm, relaxed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning. About hanging out. Did you still want to?” He seemed fixated on my lamp. “Brad’s leaving on Monday. Greg’s going home until Friday, and Colin and Ryan will be at Ryan’s house, so it’ll just be you and me at the hotel.”

“And Wayne,” I pointed out as gently as I could.

“Actually, Wayne’s going to see his wife.”

Drew still sounded nonchalant, but he had to be hurting. Maybe he was a better actor than he got credit for.

I considered his offer. Part of me hoped it was more than the friendly invitation it appeared; after all, he seemed to be trying quite hard to say that the only reason he wanted to spend time with be was because there wasn’t anyone else. A larger part of me, however, was still trying not to get my hopes up. In the end I decided that even if Drew was thinking on a completely platonic level, I would definitely take him up on it. We did have fun together, and he was a friend. I was sure I’d enjoy myself.

“Sure. What did you want to do?”

Drew looked up, meeting my eyes for the first time since coming in my room. He smiled, and all his nervousness seemed to melt away. “I don’t know. A movie; maybe bowling. Something fun.”

“Cool.” I grinned back at him.

“Yeah.”

We stood there, just smiling at each other for a moment. My eyes dropped to his lips, remembering how they felt against mine. They looked so soft and pink in the warm hotel room lighting. I found myself taking an involuntary step toward him, and suddenly Drew coughed and kicked into action, skirting around me toward the door.

“I guess I’ll let you go to bed now,” he threw over his shoulder.

“Right. Yeah. Bye.” I tried not to let my disappointment show in my voice.

Then he was gone and I was once again left alone with my thoughts.


Most of the next two days passed in a bit of a blur. Almost everyone was busy with a taping on Sunday, so I spent the day alone, apartment hunting. I rented a car and drove out to the suburbs, just cruising around and looking for places to rent. By the time the sun had begun to set, I hadn’t made any decisions, though I’d found a couple of nice places and filled out a few applications. Hopefully I’d have a place to stay by last taping the next weekend.

Monday morning was spent at home packing. I left early and so was surprised to find Greg in the lobby. From what Drew had said, he would be going home for the week, but it was still far too early for him to be up on a day off. I was on my way over to say hi when I realized he wasn’t alone.

He stood, just to the side of the elevators, back against the wall down a corridor that lead to parts of the hotel unknown. Across the hall from him, half hidden by a large potted ficus, was Brad. They were speaking too low for me to make out the words, but from the looks on their faces I could tell this was serious. Greg was standing very still, arms crossed, leaning against the wall in a forced show of casualness, nodding as Brad spoke. Brad was worrying his lower lip, eyes everywhere but on the man before him.

The conversation fizzled out, leaving them standing there. Finally, with a long sigh blown out through his teeth, Brad pushed off from the wall. He gave Greg a nod and started off. But the next instant, Greg had followed, jogging around to come face to face with him. They stood that way for a fraction of a second, and then Greg jerked forward, engulfing Brad in a tight hug. I could see Brad’s weary smile; there was a light in his eyes, and I dared to think that maybe they, too, had been caught up in the war between love and sex.

After a moment Greg pulled back. From my angle, I couldn’t see his face, but I could still see Brad’s. He was grinning broadly now, almost laughing. He said something, short and sharp, and then pulled Greg into a quick, fierce kiss. It was the first real intimate act I had seen between the two, and despite the fact that I had known already, it still left me feeling odd. It was like the first time you see one of your friends light a cigarette: you may know that they smoke already, but knowing it and seeing it are worlds apart.

I turned and left them then, feeling that I had intruded on something personal. Still, as I climbed in my rental car and headed for my former home, I couldn’t help but smile. For all Greg’s talk of “friends with benefits” and the like, he was no better off than the rest of us.

I packed all my worldy possessions, thankful that my wife was at work. Even though we were on relatively good terms, I imagined her being there as I boxed up our lives together would be rather uncomfortable. When I was satisfied that I hadn’t forgotten anything, I took the boxes and suitcases and put them in my car. The car, however, was staying at the house until the end of the week. Two weeks at a hotel was expensive enough without adding parking to the bill.

I managed to finish before my wife returned home, so I left her a note to tell her what I’d done and that I would be back later on to pick everything up. I left her all the furnishings as well as anything we’d bought jointly, though I certainly wouldn’t decline anything she offered me. I wasn’t looking forward to having to rebuy everything, but I wasn’t concerned about that now. Now I just wanted to get the majority of my work done and get the Hell out of there.

Once I was on the road I decided to take my time getting back to the hotel. I had been eager to leave my home, but I wasn’t going back for anything or anyone in particular. I ended up stopping for Chinese food in anticipation of a relaxing evening in front of the tv.

When I arrived back at my room, however, the first thing I noticed was that I had a message. It was Drew asking me to call him to cement plans.

As I dialed, I couldn’t help but think back to last Monday when Drew had invited me back to his room in an effort to make me feel better after the ordeal with my wife. Though it had only been a week, it seemed much longer. So much had changed in such a short time.

Drew picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” I greeted, assuming he’d recognize my voice. I wasn’t disappointed.

“Chip Hey.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I was thinking we could do something tomorrow. What do you think?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly my gaze fell on one of my still unopened cartons of Chinese food. Hell, I thought, why wait for tomorrow?

“That sounds good. In fact, I just bought way too much Chinese food. Why don’t you come over and help me with it while we talk?”

“Chinese, huh?” Drew mused. He was still smiling, and I knew it was no contest. “I’ll be right over.”

Ten minutes later we were perched on my bed eating lo mein straight out of the container with plastic forks. The conversation started out light as we discussed the pros and cons of how we wanted to spend the next day. We decided on playing pool and maybe going out for lunch. Anything further would be figured out when the time came.

When plans were complete there was a lull in the conversation. Under normal circumstances we would have had lots to say, but all I could think of was my divorce and Drew’s impending breakup. Neither topic made for a very relaxing time. Then again, they were things that needed to be addressed if we wanted to move forward. Drew must have been thinking along the same lines because we both asked in unison, “How are you?”

The laughter that followed was short lived. I sobered up quickly and replied, “I’m good.” “Really, I am,” I insisted when Drew just looked at me skeptically. “The more I think about it, the more I realize that I’ve just been waiting for this to happen. And,” I said, meeting his eyes earnestly, “I think I’m ready to move on.”

Drew still said nothing. He watched me curiously as if he had something to say, but couldn’t find the words.

“How are you doing?” I asked, repeating my earlier question.

Drew shrugged, turning away and smiling gently. “I’m all right, I guess. Maybe I’ve been waiting for this as well, but that doesn’t mean I was ready for it.”

I nodded, but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“He always said that in the end he would choose his wife, but I guess I never really believed him. I never even let myself think about that. I guess I was in denial.”

He heaved a deep sigh, settling back against the headboard, a carton of fried rice settled in his lap. I was seated next to him, both of us facing the television set even though it was off.

“And now there’s a baby,” Drew said after a moment of silence. “It really is over between us.” There was a kind of emotionlessness in the way he spoke, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how to feel.

“How long were you together?” I found myself asking.

Drew furrowed his brow. “A little over a year. Not that long, I guess.”

“Long enough.”

He nodded, still staring at the blank television screen. There was another few minutes of contemplative silence as we both got lost in our own thoughts. We began eating again for lack of anything better to do. Though we remained quiet, it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was too much going on in both our heads to really think about the absence of words.

I, for one, was back to thinking about how hopeless this whole situation was. Here I was trying to start a relationship with this guy, and all we could talk about was his ex, though I admitted that it couldn’t really be helped.

We finished eating soon after, and I figured we’d part for the night, but as I cleaned up, Drew stayed put. I could feel his gaze on me, watching me as I moved about the room. Just as I was dumping the empty cartons in the trash he asked, “Do you have any beer?”

It actually took me by surprise. What with the way the conversation had been going, I’d assumed he’d rather be alone.

“No, I don’t.”

“Well I do,” Drew said, climbing to his feet. “I’ll go get it.” And without another word he was gone. I was left staring after him for a minute, I was so startled by the abrupt decision. In fact, I had barely moved by the time there was a knock on the door announcing his return.

Drew wasn’t lying when he’d said he had beer. He came back with two six packs and was already snapping a can from its plastic holster as I opened the door.

So we drank. I didn’t trust myself to initiate conversation; I was still too caught up in our previous talk to think of anything light hearted to say. Mostly I found myself listening as Drew flipped through the channels, looking for something, anything of interest on tv, commenting on the crap he came across.

Amusingly enough, the first time he stopped for any length was for an old rerun of Friends. We watched for a few minutes before Drew revealed that he actually thought it was a pretty good program and was just sick of The Drew Carey Show being compared to it. This, of course, led to a colorfully worded tirade on all the bad reviews he’d received over the years. I listened intently, not having much to input.

It was fun to watch him rant. He’d regained a bit of the enthusiasm that talking about Wayne had drained from him.

More than an hour passed as he resumed channel surfing. The alcohol began to take affect and soon I was matching him insult for insult on each bad television show to worse movie.

We had just finished snickering over a Star Trek episode when Drew suddenly got quiet. He was staring at the tv, a small smile on his lips, hand paused on the remote. I was cracking open yet another beer, but hesitated then, turning to watch him curiously. When he didn’t move, I followed his gaze to the tv, only to find myself still looking at Drew.

I couldn’t help but smile when I realized what we were watching.

“Sooo,” I drawled, “when are Lewis and Oswald going to hook up?”

Drew just snorted in response, shaking his head. He was still captivated by the television, and I didn’t blame him. Even now I still found it strange to see myself on tv.

“I hate to break it to you, but Lewis and Oswald are straight.”

“Uh huh. Sure they are.”

“Besides,” Drew continued, still smiling at his reflection, “if I was going to hook Lewis up with any guy, it’d have to be Eugene.”

Maybe it was just my inebriated state, but that sounded like an absolutely fabulous idea. “Yeah You should do that ” I laughed.

Drew shook his head, but laughed along with me. “That would just confuse the fans.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Drew was continuing. “And even if it didn’t, Bruce and ABC would never go for it. Besides,” he added, frowning slightly, “giving Colin a bigger role would require him coming back to L.A. long term, and no one, not even Ryan could convince him to do that.” That line of thought threatened to pull the conversation back into serious territory, so Drew quickly changed the subject. “I bet I could get him to do another episode, though. One where he spent the whole time hitting on Lewis.”

“If you don’t bring it up, I will.”

“Oh, I’ll ask him.”

“You’d better.”

There must have been a note of challenge in my voice because Drew turned to me with a look that said very clearly, “Bring it on.” “Oh? You gonna make me?”

I smirked and leaned forward so that our faces were mere inches apart. “Yes,” I whispered confidently. “Yes, I am.”

Drew stared straight back, smiling as he played along. “And just how are you going to do that?”

Something was happening here; I could feel it. It was as if we were gravitating toward each other, and though I knew I should try to stop it, I couldn’t bring myself to do so.

“Well,” I whispered and was surprised to hear how soft it came out. I was still smirking, but it was weak, unfocused. My heartbeat thrummed in the back of my throat. He was so close that I could feel the warm wash of his breath over my lips with every exhale. I was quickly losing track of where the conversation had been headed.

“Well what?” There was something about his voice that told me he had forgotten as well.

No.

I yanked back suddenly, throwing on the most plastic smile I’d ever worn in all my life. Drew was blinking at me, but instead of the confusion I’d expected to see on his face, I found him to be watching me intensely, thoughtfully. He knew exactly what was on my mind. He didn’t look disturbed or upset, and I think that just furthered my resolution. He had gone from talking about Wayne to flirting with me after only a few beers. As much as I’d wanted to continue, I just couldn’t, not when it was so obvious he was using me to forget.

“Well, I think that’s enough for tonight.” I said around my smile.

“Like Hell it is.”

I had begun to pull away, but then Drew clamped one hand around my wrist, holding me still. I could only stare at him, my pulse tripping a rhythm at the base of my throat that made it hard to swallow. Drew was leaning toward me again. He shifted so that he was on his side, head still propped up at an awkward angle against the head board.

“Drew?” I breathed.

“What were you going to say?”

I think he could read the confusion in my eyes because he continued, even as he moved closer, the heat of his body pressed against my side. “How are you going to make me?” he clarified.

I wanted to think he was still playing, but there was no denying the tension in his gaze. He was very, very serious. I couldn’t play along anymore. I shook my head, at a complete loss for words.

The hold on my wrist loosened, and Drew slid his fingertips up the length of my arm to toy with the fabric at the collar of my t-shirt. I tilted my head, arching my neck to give him better access without thinking. His breath came out in quiet, rapid pants. He stared at the column of my throat, seemingly fascinated by it. His hand left my collar to trace a line from collarbone to jaw and then up along the shell of my ear before threading fingers through the hair at the back of my head. His touch was insanely gentle.

All I could think as Drew moved one leg over mine so that he was practically on top of me was how unlike him it all seemed. I’d always imagined Drew to be more demanding in bed, not to mention overwhelmingly straight. Even with the events of the past week, I was having a hard time reconciling the Drew I thought I knew to the one currently pressing his erection against my thigh.

“Wait.” It took more resolve than I thought I’d had, but I managed to extricate myself from beneath Drew, rolling away to sit up. “What are we doing?”

Drew chuckled. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“No, I mean yeah, but we can’t. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Not that drunk,” Drew argued. Taking into consideration that amount of alcohol he’d imbibed verus his size, I was sure he was telling the truth. His words, however, dragged up a memory of Wayne saying the same thing to me not so long ago.

“You’re upset,” I said. “You don’t really want this.”

Drew frowned, considering me with an otherwise unreadable expression. A minute passed, and neither of us said a word. Finally Drew sat up, turning away to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said after another moment, not looking at me. “I guess I’ll go.”

I watched him get up and head to the door. Just as he reached for the knob, I called out, “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

Drew paused, hand hovering just over the shining brass knob. His shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug. “If you want.” He still wasn’t looking at me.

I had turned him down twice in the space of ten minutes, so it was no wonder he was acting the way he was. I scrambled off the bed and nearly ran over to him. Whatever else happened, Drew was my friend, and I couldn’t let him leave like this. But at the same time, I had no idea what to say. I slowed as I approached him.

“Drew?” It came out soft, almost pleading, which was certainly not the way I’d intended it. Drew spun at the sound of his name, however, head snapping up. He looked almost angry.

“Thing are... weird right now,” I offered, pleased to see the confrontational look melt from Drew’s face. “You’re hurting. I don’t think you know what you want.”

“And you do?” he asked.

I blinked. “I didn’t mean–“

“For that matter,” Drew continued, cutting me off with a shake of the head, “do you even know what you want?”

Each question had been firm, but not angry, not a challenge of any kind. What I normally would have perceived as an insult, I was seeing as a genuine question.

“Yeah,” I said, sounding far more confident that I felt. “I do.”

“I see.” Drew was frowning again. I got the distinct impression that wasn’t the answer he was looking for, that there was more to his question than I had picked up on.

“You need a friend right now,” I told him. It was true. It was for the best. It didn’t matter that pushing him away had just about been the hardest thing I’d ever done. It was the right thing to do... but then why did it feel so wrong?

Drew nodded. He wasn’t quite frowning now, but he looked far from happy. We watched each other from a distance, each trying to figure out what the other was thinking. Finally Drew sighed, shoulders slumping, and turned back to the door. He had it half open, the bright fluorescent hall lights spilling into my room, when he paused and said, “Chip?”

“Yeah?”

“I...” Drew started, but then hesitated and shook his head. “Nothing. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Drew.”


The following afternoon had me waiting impatiently by the phone. I had spent most of the morning just lounging around my hotel room channel surfing and dining on cold Chinese food.

By 2 p.m. Drew still hadn’t gotten in contact with me. I waited by the phone, fighting the feeling that I was being stood up, worrying that last night’s damage was too great to repair.

At 2:36 I decided to screw it all and just give him a call. The phone rang for a full five minutes without an answer. It looked like I’d be spending the day alone after all.

Just then came a knock on the door. I lay the receiver back into its cradle, staring at the door suspiciously. I would not get my hopes up.

“Who is it?”

There was a moment of silence and then, “It’s Drew. Did you still want to go out?”

A wide smile spread across my lips. I opened the door to see Drew standing just outside, wearing a festive, Colin caliber button down and an uncertain smile.

“Hey,” I greeted him. I was grinning like an idiot, but I didn’t care, especially when he returned the smile, all hints of awkwardness and uncertainty falling away in less than a heartbeat.

“Hey,” he replied in turn.

We looked at each other for a minute, neither speaking. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was more relieved, thankful that we could go on as if last night hadn’t happened. There was more to it than that, a warmth I could see in Drew’s eyes that had me feeling lightheaded, but I wasn’t about to let myself dwell on that.

“So,” Drew cleared his throat. “Ready to go?”

We actually went to the same bar we frequented on taping nights. They had a few pool tables in a back room that Drew and some of the other guys played at every so often. I never joined in. I love pool, but I’m not very good, and while I was all for making an ass out of myself in front of hundreds of complete strangers, off stage was a different matter. But for some reason, now that it was just Drew and I, none of that seemed to matter.

It was early yet, and the bar had only a few patrons aside from ourselves. We ordered a pitcher of beer and claimed a table.

We started out with a simple game of 8 Ball, by the end of which it was obvious I had no idea what I was doing. Oh, I knew the rules, but that didn’t stop Drew from absolutely slaughtering me.

“No wonder you never play with us,” Drew joked as I reracked the balls.

I just shrugged, smiling. I was trying to think up any sort of witty retort, but embarrassment had frozen my vocal chords.

“Here,” Drew said, softer now, once I had finished. “Why don’t you break? I’ll watch and see if I can’t help.”

I did as I was told, scattering the balls across the table. None went in the pockets, so I stepped back for Drew to take his turn.

Drew was staring at the table thoughtfully. “No,” he said, “keep going. I just want to watch.”

“Okay.” I nodded, eyeing the table myself before lining up my first shot.

“Oh,” Drew said as something occurred to him, “and tell me what you’re trying to do, too.”

I thought that was obvious, but obliged, saying, “Four ball, corner pocket.”

It was a straight shot, and I got it in with ease. The cue ball ricocheted, rolling softly into the center of the table. If I was going to play this game by myself, then I had a lot of options but decided to stick with solids anyway. The one ball was slightly to the right of a side pocket, so I went for that, saying as much. I hit the cue ball hard, and it slammed into the one ball, but instead of sending it into the pocket, it went in the complete opposite direction. The cue ball spun away, bouncing off the far side of the table and coming to rest amidst three other balls. It would be nearly impossible to hit.

“No, no, no,” Drew said suddenly, startling me.

I looked up at him, frowning.

“First of all,” he said, pointing at where the one ball had stopped, “you need to think about where you want to hit the object ball. You wanted it to go left, so you should have hit it on the right. You smacked it dead center, so of course it wasn’t going to go where you wanted it. Second,” he said, swinging his hand over to the buried white ball, “you have to hit the cue ball properly. Where you hit it doesn’t only affect how it hits the other balls, but it also effects where it ends up.” He smiled, dropping his arm. “You screwed yourself.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered sarcastically, but I was secretly pleased to see Drew so animated.

“Let me show you,” he was continuing. He lifted the cue ball to put it into a better position, and pointed down the table. “Tell me how you’d get the 6 ball in the corner there.”

My initial response was that I’d hit it as hard as I could and hope for the best, but I held my tongue and actually tried to think. “Hit it on the left?”

“Correct.” Drew smiled at me. “But not too far to the left or you’ll send it sideways. Now where do you hit the cue ball?”

I honestly had no idea and said as much. Drew, now in full on teacher mode, didn’t get frustrated. Rather he came up behind me, placing one hand on my shoulder and pointing out where I would hit in and how hard. He went on to say where the ball would end up, but I had long ago stopped listening. I could feel Drew’s arm pressed against my back. My own arm was settled against his front as he stood, half turned beside me. I found my gaze drawn to his lips, watching him form words without hearing them. The gentle scent of his cologne washed over me.

I could sense that he was wrapping up his explanation and forced myself to pay attention.

“... it’s all about mathematics.”

I smiled. “Then I’m surprised you have any idea what you’re doing.” I was going for humor, but my voice came out far softer than I had intended.

Drew smirked. “Fuck you,” he said good-naturedly, giving me a little shove with the hand that wasn’t still resting on my shoulder. “Just try it.”

Needless to say, my game play had barely improved. Drew still didn’t get even the slightest bit aggravated. We went through each ball, Drew telling me what to do.

I was trying my best to pay attention, but most of what he was saying went way over my head. Part of the problem was that I kept getting distracted. More often than not he would be right there beside me, guiding me, trying to make me see what he saw, but I kept finding my gaze drifting to Drew, his eyes, his mouth, the subtle flutters of his hand as he spoke. I knew I was falling for him, and I was tired of having to reject him. A large part of me wanted to throw him down on the pool table and take him then and there, despite the public forum. I just might have had I not been equally as positive that Drew was still hung up on Wayne.

After the lesson ended we played a few more racks. Drew was still slaughtering me, but that didn’t matter. It was fun, and I just loved spending time with him.

“Now what?” Drew asked as we stepped out to parking lot.

I was too busy blinking the sun out of my eyes to answer. After the dim lighting of the bar, it seemed unnaturally bright outside. The late afternoon sun glared off buildings and soaked into the blacktop. It was exceedingly uncomfortable, and one thing came to mind immediately.

“Shade.”

“Shade?” Drew blinked at me uncomprehendingly. I hadn’t realized I had spoken aloud, but now I was glad I had.

“Yes, shade.” I turned to Drew and smiled. “I know the perfect place to go.”

As we stared at each other, a wry smile lit up Drew’s face while he pondered my words, wondering just what I had in mind. After a moment he swept one arm out in the direction of the car, urging me forward. “Well, then, where to?”

“Oh, no,” I said. “It’s a surprise. I’ll drive.”

Drew gave a barking laugh, stopping in his tracks. I stopped as well and came around to face him. He was holding his keys in one hand, his smile now one of challenge. “If you think I’m letting you drive the Porche...”

“Then what?” I prompted, crossing my arms over my chest.

We faced off for what must have been a full minute. Drew continued to clutch his keys as though afraid I would snatch them away, and I found my grin growing wider. There was no way I was going to budge on this. Drew eventually realized that as well. His eyes narrowed curiously, still unable to figure out my plan.

“Then I guess you’re right,” he said suddenly, tossing me his keys. I had to dart forward to catch them. He continued to smirk as he strode past me, turning and walking backwards, hands stuffed in his pockets. “But this better be good.”

We drove for the most part in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. I was starting to worry that Drew would think me silly and sentimental once he realized where I was taking us.

I left the city and turned onto the highway. I could feel Drew’s eyes on me and smiled at him innocently. I could tell he was getting more and more curious as we drove on, and after the build up in the parking lot, I didn’t blame him. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a disappointment.

We were nearly there when Drew figured it out. He suddenly started to chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. I glanced over to him briefly, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. I couldn’t, but he was smiling, and that, at least, had to be a good sign.

I pulled into the small parking lot and shut off the engine, waiting for Drew to speak. It took him a moment, but he finally said, “We didn’t bring a picnic.”

I smiled at the joke, but couldn’t meet his eyes. I was still too worried. Instead I stared out across the field before us, out over the park and the tree we had climbed just over a week ago.

“If you think this is stupid, then we can go somewhere else.”

While I spoke, Drew had actually unbuckled his seat belt and started to open the door. Now he paused. I could feel his eyes on me. “Why would I think it’s stupid?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged helplessly. I had finally regained the courage to look at Drew and did so now. “It’s a park.”

“Yeah, but it’s our park.”

I think my jaw actually dropped; I had been thinking the exact same thing. I tried to cover my surprise by saying, “Now who’s being sentimental?”

Drew lifted an eyebrow. “I never called you sentimental.”

Oh. Right. I could feel my cheeks burn as I replied, “In my head you did.”

Drew laughed. “Talking to yourself? Not a good sign.” He chuckled for another moment and then lifted one arm, nudging me gently with his elbow. ‘Come on. Race you to the tree.”

We were in a park, and trees were abundant, but I didn’t have to ask which one he was referring to.

“You know you don’t have a chance,” I called to him as I exited the car, slamming my door behind me and throwing him the keys.

Drew smirked. “It’ll do you good to win at least one thing today.”

That did it. I took off at a run, leaving Drew behind in a matter of seconds. I could feel the sun on my face, but now, away from the city, it felt different: warm, inviting. Maybe it was something about this park, but I felt like a kid again. Or maybe it was Drew.

I practically rammed into the tree, hitting it hard with both hands and recoiling slightly. I spun around to watch Drew. He had given up about halfway through the field and now stood, leaning forward, hands on his knees. He caught my eyes and stuck out tongue.

I was breathing heavily myself but walked back to Drew anyway. Together we wandered over to the tree and plopped down, leaning against the trunk, side by side.

For a while we just talked, flowing from topic to topic with ease. It started light, discussing our plans for the rest of the summer and other trivial things, but quickly moved to deeper conversation. Vacation speculations reminded me of childhood getaways, and soon we were trading stories of our youth as the sun fled west over the horizon, and dark clouds rolled in, obscuring what would otherwise have been a beautiful California sunset.

Just as Drew was finishing up a tale from his time in the Marines, the first raindrops started to fall. It was sudden and practically a downpour, the drops large and heavy, obscuring us from the rest of the world like white noise. In the distance I could see families racing to their cars, desperate to escape the onslaught, but Drew and I remained safe and relatively dry beneath the canopy of our tree.

With the rain came a drastic drop in temperature. I found myself shivering in my thin t-shirt despite the fact that it was late July. Almost unconsciously I was leaning toward Drew, searching for warmth, only to find him doing the same. Our shoulders bumped, and we stayed like that, just barely touching, neither speaking.

“I’m not as upset as you seem to think.”

It had been a few minutes since either of us had last spoken, and the break in silence startled me. I turned to Drew curiously. I had no idea what he was talking about.

He glanced to me, a quick, darting, sidelong look, before returning his gaze to the rain. “About Wayne, I mean.”

I frowned, my mood darkening immediately. “I thought we were going out as friends.”

“We are,” Drew hurried to assure me, “but I think you should hear this.”

“Well I don’t want to.” It was a childish thing to say and came out far more angry than I had intended, but I didn’t care. It was one thing to hide my feelings from Drew but another completely to have to keep pushing him away. Our friendship came first, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize it for what could only be a fling.

I shifted away from Drew and climbed to my feet, but didn’t go any further. “Maybe we should just go.”

“Chip,” Drew said. I could hear him getting to his feet as well and took a step away from him. “Hear me out, will you?”

“No.” I spun on him and was surprised to find that he was only a foot away. Shocked, I took a few steps back, out from under the canopy and straight into the downpour. I didn’t let that bother me. “I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Please?” He was practically begging now. There was a twinge in my chest, short but painful. He looked so... so sad... but I couldn’t do this.

“No,” I said again.

He was advancing on me now, so I continued to back step. I was walking in the rain, but that didn’t matter; I had gotten soaked the moment I stepped out from under the tree.

“You don’t know what’s going on!” Drew called to me. He had stopped just short of the end of the canopy even though I continued to walk away. I could barely hear him over the sound of the rain. “You might think you do, but you don’t!”

I shook my head. The rain was so thick that I wasn’t sure he could see the gesture. “Please,” I said, throwing the word right back at him, “can’t we just be friends?”

It was getting hard to see Drew through the rain and rapidly encroaching darkness. He was just a blue and orange blur darting back and forth beneath the tree, combating the urge to stay dry with the need to go after me. Eventually the latter won and he darted out, his sneakers making wet slurping noises every time they left the grass.

“Chip!” he yelled, but I was already turning away from him, walking toward the car with purpose. “Chip! Wait! Stop!”

I kept telling myself that if I could just get to the car then this conversation would be over, as irrational as that was. I think Drew felt it, too, though, because soon he was right beside me, matching me step for step.

“Just let me tell you one thing,” he pleaded.

I quickened my pace, and Drew did the same, sliding once in the mud before regaining his footing enough to race up, overtaking me. He stopped just feet in front of me and reached out to take hold of my arms, keeping me in place.

“Let go of me, Drew.” My voice was just above a whisper, but he was so close that even the rain couldn’t drown out my words.

Drew ignored the request; his grip on my arms tightened, his words coming out softly, quickly. “Yes, we can be friends and only friends if that’s what you really want, but I need to tell you this first. That argument. The one Wayne and I had that first night in the bar—do you remember what I told Ryan about it?”

“I remember that Wayne said you were being an asshole, which is exactly what you’re doing now.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but–“

“No,” I begged, wrenching away from him. “I like what we have, Drew. I’m not going to risk it for–“

But then Drew placed his lips over mine, cutting me off. His lips were soft, cold and wet with rain. There was something sinfully delicious about being kissed by another man in public, even if there was no one around to see. It wasn’t like kissing on stage; that could always be explained away with a laugh. This was different. Better. Perfect.

This all went through my head in a matter of seconds as the rain poured down around us.

And then I was pushing Drew away.

“No,” I said, one last time. I really was whispering now; I didn’t trust myself to speak any louder or say any more for fear of telling Drew how I really felt. I couldn’t. Too much was at stake.

“You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

He was right; I couldn’t, so I didn’t say anything at all.

Drew took my silence like an insult. Through the haze of the rain I could see his cheeks coloring. He stepped back, and though we were only a few feet apart, it felt like miles. I hated it, but it looked like I was finally getting through to him.

“Come on,” he said, voice level and devoid of emotion. “I’ll take you home.”


To be continued
09/25/05