Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
It’s a long half hour. It’s time enough for Colt to feel like he’s being stupid, like he should text and call it off, like he’s inviting trouble into his life. On the other hand, there’s the off chance that maybe things will be okay. He can just imagine that he’s some cliché guy from a Southern small town come up to the big city and finding himself in over his head.
He doesn’t wanna be that guy.
Since leaving Texas, he’s played his life very smart and to the letter. He’s worked hard. He’s been a good person. He’s been thoughtful and careful with every decision he’s made. Everything in his world is under his control as much as it can be.
Right now he feels reckless. It’s an odd feeling and he isn’t sure he’s cut out for it.
He hears the rumble of an engine and peeks outside from a window to see a shiny sports car pulled up in front of his house. It’s not the kind of car he would have imagined Marc driving. He lets the curtain fall back in place when he sees Marc getting out of the car.
He waits until he hears the knock on the door before going to it, taking a deep breath and opening the door.
Marc stands there, bruises still on his face and looking pleased to be here. The man carries a paper bag in one arm and has a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
“Here. Take this.” He gives Colt the paper bag.
A peak inside shows two six packs of beer and a bottle of something. Drinks.
Colt steps aside to let Marc in. “You were serious, huh? About the drinks.”
“Yeah. You’re gonna drink with me.”
Colt watches as Marc sets the duffel down and looks around the small living room, dining room and joined kitchen. When Emmitt rises and pads over to inspect him, Marc offers his hand and lets the dog sniff at him before petting at his ears.
“Well, that clinches it. If Emmitt likes you then I guess you’re alright.”
“He’s a hella big dog. What is he? Great Dane?”
“Yeah. He’s an old man dog.” His pup loses interest and goes back to lay down. “See? He mostly just lays around.”
Marc grins crookedly at Colt. “This is a cool place.”
“Thanks.” Colt tries to search for something to say. Their normal ease of conversation at bars is lost now that it’s just the two of them and Colt is nervous as hell. “I uhm… uh…”
“Hey. I’m glad you invited me over.”
Did he invite Marc over or had it been a mutual decision? Had he been pushed into it? Had Marc invited himself over? Colt can’t really tell right now and he supposes that it doesn’t really matter now that the man is here.
“To be honest, I’m nervous and I have no idea what I’m doing right now.”
Marc steps closer to him, that mischievous grin still in place. “Breathe. It’s just me.”
Colt studies Marc’s bruised face up close. “Who hit you?”
“That’s not important.” Marc shakes his head and reaches out for Colt’s hand.
Colt looks down at his hand in Marc’s and slowly his fingers curl to hold onto Marc’s hand as well. His thumb brushes over the cuts and bruises on Marc’s knuckles. “It’s important to me.”
“Let’s have a drink. Yeah?”
The paper bag is sitting on the small table where he’d left it and Colt looks over to it. A drink won’t hurt. In fact, bedava bahis it would probably help. He’s drank before, usually when alone at home.
Having a drink now does not make him his father, he reminds himself.
“Yeah.” Colt says with a nod.
Marc lets go of his hand and goes into the kitchen to find two glasses. He comes back with two small tumblers that Colt usually uses for orange juice and then grabs the bottle from the bag. It’s whiskey, Colt can see now. Marc fills two glasses and brings one back to him.
“Let’s shoot it.” Marc says.
“Aren’t you classy coastal folk supposed to toast with this kind of drink?”
Marc smirks. “If you think I’m classy, you got me pegged all wrong. But alright. Let’s toast to adding some spice to the vanilla.”
“Oh come on now…”
“Hey you wanted a toast.” Marc holds his glass up, waiting. “Come on.”
Colt lifts his eyes to the ceiling and back down. “To adding some spice to the vanilla.”
They clink glasses and the both of them drink all of what’s in the glass. It burns its way down Colt’s throat and he feels himself making a face. Marc, however, makes no face and is watching him with amusement even as he pours more of the liquor into Colt’s glass.
“Holy crap, that was strong. Isn’t there beer?”
“There is. One more shot.” Marc says. “And this time we toast to letting me be brave for you.”
Colt stares at Marc for a moment, wondering what letting the other man be brave for him entails. This is a leap of faith. It might be a huge mistake, but people make mistakes all the time.
“To letting you be brave for me.” Colt says quietly.
Marc nods and clinks their glasses together before they both take the second shot. This one doesn’t burn quite so much, but it’s still strong and still has a sting. Colt makes another face and Marc chuckles at him.
“Are you laughing at me? That’s not cool.” Except that Colt is laughing at himself too.
Marc shrugs. “Shut up. You’re cute.”
Once they get beers, they go sit on the couch and the ease with which they normally converse slowly returns. They talk for a long time about music they like and things they like to do. They tell jokes and laugh a lot. It’s a great time and Marc never pushes anything more than talking.
What Marc does do is keep a steady stream of beer in Colt’s hand. When one is empty, another bottle is put into his hand. And when they’re through most of the beers, Marc gets the tumblers and keeps Colt’s glass full.
Colt notices this and decides he doesn’t mind because they’re at his house and Marc is nice and he can sleep in the next day. He’s having a good time and really enjoying Marc’s company.
Marc pours more whiskey into Colt’s glass and Colt shakes his head. “There was one time when I got really drunk…”
“Like right now?” Marc teases him.
“Noooo it was awhile back. Years ago. I had just bought this house and I thought to celebrate I’d buy myself some beer and tequila.”
“I should’ve brought tequila.”
“Oh I haven’t drank tequila since then cause… it was bad. I just sat in here, didn’t have any furniture yet, and drank. I drank to the new house and being out bedava bonus of Texas and makin’ it on my own and… lots of stuff. I paid for it the next day though.”
“Did you puke?”
“Definitely. That did happen.” Colt sips at the whiskey. “And I’ve never drank that much since then. You seem to handle your booze way better than me. I don’t think you’re half as drunk as I am.”
“I’m feeling good enough. Also, I’m a professional.” Marc says. “I drink a lot.”
“Hmm…” Colt’s head lolls to the back of the couch and he looks over to Marc. “That scares me.”
“I’m being brave for you tonight. Remember? You can be scared all you want. I’ll take care of things. I’ll take care of you.”
Marc’s fingers touch Colt’s hair, slowly comb through the locks again and again. It feels good and Colt lets himself feel it.
“You like that?”
Colt nods, still looking at Marc’s bruised face. “Yeah.”
“You ever kissed a man?”
In the part of Texas Colt is from, there’s not very much of that, at least that he knows of, although in other parts of the state there’s a lot of it. Colt thinks his dad would have beat him even more, maybe even killed him, if he’d ever even thought about kissing a man.
“No. I’ve never kissed a man.”
“You ever thought about kissing a man?”
“No.” Colt starts, then adds. “Not until right now. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Cause I’m drunk and I’m not…”
“Shhhh… you’re just scared.”
Colt doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t know that that’s not the truth. He is scared. The waters are very muddy with Marc right now.
He feels Marc’s lips brush his and he isn’t even sure that he’d seen Marc lean in closer to him. The other man’s fingers are still gently combing through his hair and then their lips meet and Colt is being kissed, softly and slowly… and then Colt kisses Marc back and the drunken haze that his body has rested into begins to come to life in every way.
When the kiss breaks, Marc stays close. “See? Not so scary. You survived, Vanilla.”
“Did you like that?”
Colt isn’t sure that he wants to say yes because of it might mean for him. It makes him uncomfortable to answer yes to that question. The truth is undeniable though. He liked it a lot. He wants to do it again.
Instead of answering with words, he just nods. He’s gifted with a handsome lopsided grin.
The next morning Colt is plush against the back of the couch and the heat of another person is behind him. As he slowly wakes up he remembers the night before. Marc is still here. Colt is sandwiched between the back of the couch and Marc. Marc’s arm drapes over Colt’s waist at his side.
From what he can tell, aside from discarded shoes the both of them are still fully clothed.
That last detail gives him immense relief.
He had told Marc that he was a good guy too and the man had protested. To Colt, this is proof that he wasn’t just projecting what he wanted Marc to be onto him. It’s proof that he was right.
Colt closes his eyes and lets himself drift back into sleep, content to stay here in this comfortable deneme bonusu place. Maybe he can sleep off the slight headache he has.
It’s noon when Colt wakes up again. He still feels Marc at his back. He doesn’t want to move and wake the other man up. He doesn’t want to break the good feeling of last night. He doesn’t want to have awkward morning encounters so he tries to stay very still.
He kissed a man last night. Oh god, he kissed another man. They had kissed multiple times, just kissed… but still…
Nerves flare up with the memory, fully waking him back up.
The headache is gone, only to be replaced with a roiling stomach. Colt decides to breathe his way out of it and go back to sleep. It doesn’t work. Perspiration begins to form on his brow and he knows what’s coming.
Colt quickly pushes himself up, leaps over Marc and runs for his bedroom and into the joined bathroom to expel what needs to be expelled. He gets there just in time.
He didn’t hear Marc rouse or follow him into the bathroom, but he hears the sink turn on and then feels a cool washcloth pressed to his brow as another hand smooths his hair back from his face. The cool cloth is welcome as Marc kneels down and slides it over Colt’s face, the back of his neck.
“Could’ve told me you weren’t feeling good.” Marc says. “Feel better?”
Colt nods, because yes, now that he’s gotten all that out of his stomach, he feels better. “I didn’t wanna wake you up.”
“I’ve been in and out of sleep for awhile now.”
“I think we drank a little bit too much last night.” Colt tries to joke.
Marc keeps holding the cloth to Colt’s face. “No such animal. We drank just enough, and I liked it.”
“Yeah this is real fun and sexy right now, huh?”
“It is.” Marc says, serious as can be. “I like seeing Vanilla get fucked up.”
Colt’s brain skips over that last statement. “You’re not hungover?”
“Nope.” There’s that crooked grin again. “I told you I was a professional.”
Marc leaves Colt to tend to other business and take a quick shower and brush his teeth. When Colt emerges from the bathroom he’s still not at a hundred percent, but he’s a lot better than he was.
He finds Marc in his bedroom, sitting on the bed. Colt gestures back to the bathroom. “Do you need to…?”
“Yeah, I’ll be quick.” Marc stands up and moves close to Colt, Marc’s hands on Colt’s hips. Without any preamble he leans in to kiss Colt.
Initially, Colt leans back from the kiss but Marc chases him and gets the kiss. Once there’s contact, memories of last night surface and Colt returns the kiss. His stomach and chest are roiling with a different kind of nerves.
He shakes his head. “I’ve never…”
“Yes you have. You did last night.”
“I know, but before that. Before you.”
“I know. I’m your first. It’s okay. I actually like it.” Marc says. “I might even come back tonight for some more firsts.”
He might come back? Colt can’t decide if he wants that or not, which makes him look at it more logically. It’s Saturday. Tonight is Saturday night. “I have church tomorrow morning.”
“Hot damn, Vanilla. Church?” Marc just shakes his head for a bit. Then continues after a moment. “So I’ll see you tonight?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Yeah, I do.” Marc kisses Colt again. Colt belatedly kisses him back and then watches him retreat to the bathroom.
He feels like he’ll have a lot to atone for at church on Sunday.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32