Unrequited Ch. 10

Ch 10 Realness
We walk in silence for a while, but not for very long. A few blocks at most. He walks quietly alongside me. Not talking, not touching. It doesn't take long for me to become aware of the change in my mood. I realise before long, that having him with me, isn't a bad thing. Having him with me, has a calming effect on me. I look over at him and think of all the times he's been there for me. He's always been there. There in person, there on the phone, there in my mind. He was the one who was there for me when I was on a path of destruction. He was the one who saw it and he was the one who wasn't afraid to step in. He catches my eye as I look at him and when he does, I know in my heart that even though he's the person who has hurt me more than anyone else, he's also the one person who's never once meant to.
I reach out for his hand, and find it open, waiting for mine. I lean in to kiss him, but realise we are in public. We haven't talked about this and I don't want to put him in an uncomfortable position. I pull away quickly.
"Sorry."
"You still think I mind about things like that?" He says, frowning and shaking his head. He takes my hand and pulls me towards him as he steps back into the light pooling beneath a streetlight. His eyes are shining and clear. Unwavering, as he kisses me. He kisses me well beyond a quick peck. Well beyond a deep kiss. Right into the, this-is-an-inappropriate-level-of-PDA, type of kiss.
When we get back to the loft, the space feels harsh and too bright. My eyes need a second to adjust to the artificial light. It's obvious the mood has shifted again. This time, the undertone is clear; we're playing for keeps. There's a seriousness in the air. I know we can both feel it. It's weighing us down. Pulling us down to the ground. Changing us from being weightless and floating, like we've been for the past weeks, to something heavy. It's grave. It's gravity.
This is going to make us.
Or break us.
He looks at me for a long, long time before he speaks.
"I'll go first." He says at last. "I don't really want to. I guess, I'm afraid of what I'll hear, but I also know I have to. Not knowing is eating me up."
I have a terrible knot in my stomach. I have no idea what he's going to say, but I have feeling that despite the fact I've been avoiding it for almost a decade, I'm about to start telling West a whole lot of things that are real.
"I guess, I'd just like to know when things changed for you? You know, when your feelings for me became something different?"
I look at him in amazement.
He looks at me and then down at his feet for a while. "I mean, we lived together for a year, we've been friends for almost ten years, all I want to know is why nothing happened before?"
I'm astonished and instantly angry.
"It's pretty simple, West. I thought you were straight. I was sure of it. And I'm absolutely positive, you were married for a good chunk of that time."
He gives me a look, clenching his jaw tightly. "There were times, before Ash, when I thought you felt something. I could have sworn I felt you looking. I could have sworn I wasn't the only one who wanted it."
Just like that, I'm back to feeling like my head's going to explode.
"Are you saying that you wanted this ten years ago? Are you seriously saying that? Are you asking me to believe that you really wanted something that wasn't just born in curiosity?" I ask in complete disbelief.
"'Course I did. I did for a long time. I waited and waited, but you never did anything."
I sit down heavily. He sits down next to me, not touching. My face feels hot and I can feel a strong, fast pulse in my neck.
"West, I thought you were straight. You were fucking girls left, right and center. I didn't come on to you because that's not the way things go. Okay? Gay guys don't come onto straight guys. That's how gay guys get their asses kicked. That's just a fact." I say, emphasising my point with a furious glare. "It's an unwritten rule. Hell, for all I know, some poor, sorry gay fool has actually taken the time to write that rule down by now. That's how well known it is."
"I know that, Andy, but I thought this was different."
"Different? Why?"
"Because this was you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, because it was you." He says, waving his hands up and down in my direction. "You."
I polatlı escort raise a confused eyebrow at him. I have absolutely no idea what he means.
"Jesus, Andy, you're dense. I mean, because this was you. You."
"What the hell do you mean?"
He looks at me as if I might be the dumbest person he's ever met.
"Honestly," he says, "I find it very hard to believe that someone who spends their life painting faces, has no idea what they look like."
"I know what I look like."
"No, you don't, Dumbass. You don't have any idea of the effect you have on people, that much is obvious now."
"Look," I say, feeling a little embarrassed by the admission, "I know I have a nice face."
He looks at me in disbelief, "Nice? Nice? Is that some kind of joke? You don't have a nice face and you aren't nice looking. You are intimidatingly good-looking. Okay?"
I feel my cheeks burn.
"Honestly," he says, sounding exhausted, "that's part of the problem. The fact that you don't have a clue how hot you are, only makes you hotter."
He takes a long breath and sighs deeply, "I've spent so much time analysing it. Trying to get to the bottom of what it is about you. Your "nice" face and your body is only half the problem."
I look at him intently, despite myself, I am interested to know where he's going with this.
"There's just something about you. I don't know what the hell it is, but you just give off the impression that you are someone who really, really knows how to fuck. Maybe, it's the way you walk. Maybe, it's your voice. I don't know. Surely, you can't tell me, you don't know that about yourself?"
This isn't the first time I've been sexually objectified, not by a long way, but it certainly is the most confusing experience I've had.
"Are you insane? Are you mentally insane? This was on you, West." I say, firmly, "Whether you like it or not, you should have been the one to say or do something."
"I fucking-well did!" He says, jumping up and looking back at me in anger. "How many fucking times did I need to let you catch me wanking? I used to sit in our room, dick out, waiting until I heard your footsteps in the hall. What the fuck do you think all that was about? Christ, don't you remember when I asked to jerk off with you?"
As a matter of fact, I do. Up until very recently, I masturbated to the thought of that agonising morning, at least once a week.
"Holy shit, of all the times I've humiliated myself, I've never been more embarrassed than that." His neck goes blotchy and pink, "All these years later, I still cringe when I think about it. I really put myself out there, and still, nothing." He says, shrugging.
I'm finding it very hard to believe that we both have such a wildly different recollection of one of my most excruciating experiences.
"Is that when you decided to get together with Ashleigh?" I ask quietly, unable to keep the accusation out of my voice.
He pauses for a second, clenching his teeth a little, "Ashleigh's a very complicated matter. I know you know that. I know you know that I loved her. I did. I wouldn't have married her if I didn't. I'd never do that to anyone."
My stomach clenches and twists. I hate hearing him say it, though I know it's true.
"I was never unfaithful to her. Not once. I tried very, very hard not be unfaithful to her in thought, either. There were times when I was successful and there were times when I failed there, but I tried. It was pretty pathetic, but every single time we broke up, I'd go running back to you. You know, just to, to check. Just to see if you'd make a move."
He looks at me helplessly. "I thought she'd change me. I thought she'd make everything okay. I thought we'd be happy together. I do know I had no business starting a relationship with anyone else back then. I know that now, but I didn't know it at the time."
He looks tired and pained, but he continues, "But no," he says, "no, that wasn't when I decided I had to move on. What happened that day between you and me fucked me up, but the final straw came a couple of weeks later."
He looks at me for a long time.
"Do you remember that prick, Alex Meeking, from a few doors down? The one who always used to mock us for being gay?"
I nod, I do remember him. I remember him vividly, in fact.
"I think the word he liked to use was, faggot." I say.
I pursaklar escort remember that vividly, too. What's more, I remember Alex on his knees, in his room. Blow job tears and saliva running down his face from the brutal face-fucking I gave him. I remember how he whined and begged for my cock. I remember distinctly how I made him say, "I'm a cocksucking faggot." I made him say it three times, for good measure. I made him say it slowly and clearly, before I turned him around and gave him exactly what he wanted.
"I came home a bit later that night," says West, "I'd been to the library, so I was later than usual. I saw you come out of his room. You didn't see me, but I saw you. I knew what had happened. I could tell by the way you were walking, that you'd just fucked him. I could just tell. I couldn't believe it. What did that asshole have that I didn't?"
"So, that's when you decided to get together with Ashleigh?" I'm lightheaded with fury.
Alex Meeking? Alex fucking Meeking? That guy was my very worst kind of hetero. The kind that loves dick but is too ashamed to admit it. The only reason I slept with him was to get him to stop calling West a faggot. Of all the fucks I've had that meant nothing to me, that one would easily make the top five.
"I guess, I just realised I couldn't keep waiting for something that was never going to happen. It was hurting me. Waiting and wanting you like that. It was getting to me. I guess, after that thing with Alex Meeking, it finally hit me that just because you were into guys, didn't automatically mean that you were ever going to be into me. I felt stupid that I hadn't realised it before."
"Oh," I say, "I see. So that's why you want to know when things changed for me."
He nods slowly. I take a breath. I need to speak clearly. Even though I'm shaking with anger, I need to speak clearly, and I need to try not to yell, but I need to let this out. It has to come out.
"Nothing has changed for me, West." I say simply. "Nothing at all. Nothing whatsoever. The way I feel about you now, is the way I've always felt about you. I felt like this, when I lay in bed listening to you fucking girls, three metres away from me. I felt like this, when I watched you falling in love with Ash right in front of me. I felt like this, when I was best man at your wedding. I felt like this, when I damned nearly drank, drugged and fucked myself into oblivion. Through it all, one thing has always stayed the same...Nothing about the way I feel about you has ever changed."
My voice is ice cold, cutting, I've never heard it like this, as I add with pure venom, "Nothing."
West stands there stock still. Blinking and breathing. He looks dumbstruck. Totally stupefied.
"Are, are you saying you had a crush on me?" He asks dumbly.
I sigh and shake my head. For the first time, I'm starting to wonder if my brilliant best friend might not be all that bright. My throat feels tight and my breathing is shallow. My heart feels as if it's being squeezed tight. Too tight. I feel the years of pain rising inside me. It's deep and it's sharp. It's pure and true.
"Itwasn'tacrush." I say quickly. My voice is a little high pitched and it wavers as I speak.
"What?"
"It wasn't a crush." I say loudly, annunciating each word clearly this time. As I do, my chest starts heaving. My eyes are burning, as the ache I've held inside me for so long, starts to release. I haven't cried since the day he got married. Not one single tear. Not one salty drop. But now, the tide is coming in and I can't stop it. I'm no match for it. It's strong and it's rising with a force that's beyond me. I see the look in his eyes, the second he realises what I'm saying. He moves towards me, arms out, reaching for me.
"You hurt me West." I sob, "You hurt me so much." He pulls me towards him, his arm around my neck, cradling my head against his chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, over and over, "I didn't know. I hoped and I hoped. I hoped for so long, but I didn't know."
When I calm down at last, we part, and look at each other. Really, really, look at each other. Both of us, a little shell-shocked and uncertain.
"I thought you told me everything." I say, "I thought that was your thing. I thought you were open and honest and that you can't hide how you feel."
"I am and I don't, with you, I never do...Except for this one thing. sincan escort This thing, I just, I just couldn't say the words. I-I couldn't get them out. There was too much to lose. I've never been able to stand the thought of losing you as a friend. I don't just want you in my life. I need you, Andy. It's just this one thing I haven't told you, I swear."
"Pretty fucking important thing though, huh?"
He nods slowly, pressing his lips together, blinking to keep his eyes from watering. We are quiet for a while. Letting the dust settle. Trying to let ourselves decipher this information.
"My God," says West, when he finally speaks, "we are a complete pair of idiots."
That breaks the tension. I laugh, long and hard, as I say, "I've always known that I'm an idiot, that much has always been clear, but honestly, West, I had no idea you were an idiot, too."
"Andy," he says, pulling me close, hands on the sides of my face, as he looks into my eyes, "you dumbass, you should have known. If you're an idiot, of course I'm one, too."
* * * * *
I wake the next day, to the sound of breakfast being made. The aroma of coffee hits me as soon as I walk into the living room. It's a welcome smell. Caffeine is needed after last night. It was the type of night, where there wasn't much sleeping.
"Morning." I mumble, still full of sleep.
"Jesus." He says, eyes opening a bit wider as he looks down. I'm shirtless and I'm wearing an old pair of pyjama bottoms. Morning wood is currently making itself very well known. In fact, as I walk over to West, my dick leads the way.
He looks bemused, as he takes a sip of his coffee and says, "Are you going to do something about that?"
I look down at the tent that's been pitched, shrug, and take my cock out. I ease my waist band down a little and trap my erection against my belly, so that the entire head is peaking out, pinned in place by my pyjamas. I look up at West and slowly and deliberately, tie a very small bow in the drawstring of my pants. A perfect little bowtie, for my dick's head.
West's eyes light up in delight and he bursts out laughing. He laughs and laughs, until his eyes are watering.
"Damn you," he splutters, "you almost made coffee come out of my nose."
That makes me laugh too, which sets him off again. Honestly, when I come to think of it, I'm a little surprised it took us so long to realise that we're both idiots.
"Oh, Andy, I love you, man. You crack me u..."
His voice trails off. The mood in the room has turned on its head. What was light and filled with laughter, is on a knife edge now. A sharp, shiny blade. I freeze, as my breath catches in my throat. West freezes too, but just for a second.
He sighs and shrugs helplessly, "I do," he says, unapologetically, "I love you like crazy."
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. I've always been of the opinion that while people don't always know when they're being lied to, we have an innate ability to recognise a universal truth when we hear it. We all do. We feel it. We know it. We can't help it. It's just the way we're made. I take a moment to prepare myself, as I already know, the words I'm about to say, are the truest words I'll ever speak.
"I love you, too, West."
He doesn't move, but I see his chest heave. It looks as though the air has been sucked out of his lungs. He looks at me in amazement. His eyes are wide. Unguarded.
"I love you." I say again, stronger this time. "Always have..."
I see the start of a smile as he closes the space between us in two or three long steps.
"Always will."
He walks straight into my open arms, crashing into me, his body against mine. Chest against chest, cheek against cheek. Our arms wrapping around each other, each pulling the other into an embrace that's so tight, I'm positive neither of us can breathe. I feel his heart beating wildly against mine, as we hold onto each other. It's hard to say if we're holding each other like lovers, or if we're holding each other like friends. Perhaps, we're holding each other like lovers, who were friends long, long before we were anything else.
When we finally pull back, to take each other in, I can't vouch for what he sees in my eyes, but I know I'll never forget the look in his. His eyes aren't just flaming, they're not just on fire. They are worlds colliding. Exploding. Causing a ripple that can't be undone. He smiles so broadly, his scar creases deeper than I've ever seen it.
"I told you." He cries, "I told you, I told you. Didn't I always tell you, that one of these days, you'd say it back?"
"You were right, West. You were right all along." I say, laughing softly, "It was just a matter of time."