7

The weeks pass quickly, the days all melding together as Ethan stars in more and more of them. I find myself at his house often, either swimming or just hanging out with him. Despite how he comes across at first, he's extremely easy going. I like him a lot. Every second I spend with him isn't about the end result anymore, which concerns me in a way, but I brush it off.

Seeing Ethan in only swim trunks for the first time was a world-shaking experience in itself. The glimpses over time left so much to the imagination. He was ripped and just beautiful. He made life increasingly difficult as time went on.

His shirt was off so often around me; you'd think I'd just get used to it, but I didn't. After I finished drawing what I considered to be a rather masterful rendition of his proposed tattoo, I forced myself to get the guts to show it to him. It took me about a week to finally unveil it. I had no cause for concern. The second he saw it, he practically begged me to go with him to get inked.

He needn't have begged; I was all too willing to see my art on him. And he got it, right on his shoulder. I had to take a bathroom break halfway through watching him get marked to relieve some, uh, stress. Instead of swimming, since he couldn't get the new ink wet, he opted to sit in the spa while I swam around his pool.

We rarely frequented Rogue's at all anymore, but every time we did, I would dread seeing Johnathon there. I'd been avoiding his texts and calls even more than usual, and I figured he would eventually be busting into my life to crash the party. But he stayed away. Once he came over and said 'hi' to Ethan and me, but other than that, he would either leave us alone or not be at the bar at all. I had no idea what to make of it.

The plan was right on track. Everything was sailing smoothly. Ethan and I hung out almost daily and we officially had a friendship that seemed well forged, even if my end of the deal wasn't completely honest.

Everything was going just perfectly, slowly, but perfectly.

Until the shit hit the fan.

The mess it made seemed more than I could clean up.

The night seemed to start off as usual. Ethan texted me, telling me he wanted to meet at Rogue's. I went and waited for him to show, a seat and a cold bottle of beer ready for him. The minute he walked through the doors though, I knew something wasn't right.

As the weeks had come and gone, Ethan had opened up to me more and more. He wasn't so quiet and generally the conversation between us was steady, unless he was in a bad mood. I could tell right away if he was in a bad mood, because he was always quiet.

When he showed up and took his seat without so much as a 'hey', I knew he was in a shitty mood. The thing with Ethan was that you couldn't even ask him if he was okay without him blowing a damn gasket. If he was upset, you just left him alone and he'd either open up about it or shove it aside.

I offered him exactly what he gave to me, nothing. I sat there, pretending to watch the band, while I waited for him to come out with it or get over it or whatever he needed to do. But after silently sitting for a whole two hours, I was starting to get impatient. He was downing alcohol with a vengeance, something was obviously wrong, and I didn't have all night.

"Did something happen?" I asked cautiously.

"Nope," is all he said before ordering yet another drink.

"Then what is your problem?" I challenged with annoyance.

"You," he growled, slamming his empty beer bottle down on the table. "You are my problem, Jasper."

"Me?" I asked, taken aback. It was admittedly the last thing I expected him to say. But he affirmed that I was indeed his problem. "Why?"

"A guy approached me today, demanding to know if I was your latest fuck." I immediately felt all of the color leaving my face as the realization hit me. "Imagine my surprise. Here I thought you wanted to be my friend, but then James Hunter introduced himself and he made it perfectly clear what your plan is." He laughs humorlessly before continuing. "I am your plan."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how to, other than I wanted to kill James Hunter. All along I was worried about Johnathon ruining my shot with Ethan, but psycho James struck again, completely screwing me over. He wasn't worth the time I put into him. Couldn't he be happy with one great fuck and a new way of life? Did he really have to keep messing things up for me?

"Nothing to say for yourself, Jasper?" Ethan asked. Again, I didn't respond, because I honestly didn't have anything to say for myself. I couldn't deny it and I wouldn't defend myself. "So, it is true?"

"Which part?" I mumbled.

"Which part?" he asked back a bit hysterically. "Fuck, Jasper, you seduce straight men? That's what gets you off?"

"Yes," I admitted, and I wasn't going to be ashamed either.

"God," he groaned, shoving a hand into his hair. "I don't want to know anymore, don't tell me. Just consider this the last time you'll ever see me. I can't believe I... Can't trust anyone," he mumbled, aggressively grabbing the beer away from the serving waitress.

I expected him to tell me to leave, but he didn't, nor did he make a move to leave himself. I didn't really want to stay, because I could practically feel his anger and irritation rolling off of him, but despite the fact that I didn't want to give a shit, I did. He was scaring me with how heavily he was drinking, and I did care about him. I cared too much, too much to let him hurt himself if he tried to.

"So, what, you seriously thought I was going to let you fuck me?" he asked unexpectedly.

"Thought you didn't want to know," I replied.

"I don't," he said, "but I just don't understand how you could be so stupid. How I could be so stupid."

I rolled my eyes at him and took a slow drink to calm myself down, but it didn't work. "Just so you know, Ethan, if James wouldn't have ruined it, you would have let me, just like he did, and the others before him."

"Fuck you," he snapped. "You're a disgrace."

"Aren't you projecting a little bit there, Ethan? Isn't that what you think you are, a disgrace? Isn't that what daddy called you? Feeling a little disgraceful now yourself? Are you so close-minded that you can't accept the fact that you have feelings for me, too?

"I don't feel shit for you," he barked back.

I laughed bitterly at him. "You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me."

The silence that hung there was heavy, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Ethan didn't say anything else, and I could tell he was really starting to get sick, but he continued to nurse his bottle anyway.

I almost wanted to laugh at him when he finally jumped up to rush to the bathroom, but I was too busy feeling like shit about the whole damn situation. While he was vomiting, I was trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do now.

It wasn't supposed to end like that, both of us angry and unsatisfied. The friendship had come to be more than worth it, and I couldn't regret it, even if it did end without reaching the goal I'd set. But, I didn't want it to end, because I already knew I'd miss him. He somehow managed to be more than just a potential fuck. He was Duncan all over again, without the revelation. Or what if Ethan was a whole new revelation? Maybe it was a good thing I wouldn't have the chance to find out.

About fifteen minutes had passed before I went looking for Ethan. I hadn't seen him leave, nor come out of the bathroom, which was frankly only giving me more to worry about. If he was seriously sick, then I would be the friend that he'd had before and make sure his drunk ass got home safe. If he was just avoiding me, then fuck him, he could take care of himself.

I found him before I made it near the men's room though. He was positioned in a dark corner with some skinny blonde chick. Even to me it looked like it wasn't going well, but of course I was still jealous. He seriously didn't look like he was being very friendly though.

I couldn't stop myself from taking a closer look. When I realized he had the poor girl's hands pinned to the wall, I intervened.

"Ethan, you need to back off," I said calmly.

"Fuck off, ass pirate," he replied.

The girl's eyes were wide with fear, and she started to struggle, but he barely seemed to notice. "You're drunk, you need to stop and think for a second, dude," I tried, grabbing one of his wrists to make sure he didn't do anything stupider.

"Get your hands off of me," he hissed at me. He released one of the girl's arms as he tried to shake me off.

"I'll let you go as soon as you let this girl go."

"Screw off, I don't want you, chicks love me."

"Ow," the girl whined, opening her mouth for the first time. I could see his hold on her tightening, and I shook my head at him.

Wordlessly, I grabbed his other wrist and yanked his hand off of her. "I'm sure they do, but this one doesn't want you forcing yourself on her, so back the hell up."

The girl quickly darted out from beneath Ethan's hold and made a run back to her table, where she started gesturing wildly to some guy, pointing at us.

"Oh, no," I groaned. "Your ass is fucked now."

Ethan gave me a really dirty look for my poor wording, but then started hissing expletives when he noticed the big bastard making his way over with a murderous glare.

"Shit, shit, shit," he chanted. He practically whimpered, and I decided right then and there that my Ethan was nothing but a brave little coward who totally wrote checks with his big mouth that his skinny ass couldn't cash. I wasn't taking the beating for his stupid, drunk ass, but I would do what I could to save him.

"Oh, God, what am I thinking," he whined, then he grabbed my hand and pulled me really close. "This doesn't mean shit; I just can't go to work tomorrow if I look like I got my ass kicked."

"What the—"

Before I could even say anything, his mouth covered mine and I moaned.

He's all tight-mouthed, barely kissing me, acting like it's absolutely the worst thing in the world, which meant it was all for show for the guy who wanted to kick his ass back to last weekend, but I didn't care.

I slid my hands up into his hair and moaned his name against his lips, like, really loudly. I smirked when he twitched—I didn't even care if it was a good twitch or a bad twitch. I grabbed his hair between my fingers and pulled his head down slightly so I could get a better angle and shoved my mouth harder against his. I pressed my hips forward and ground against him. I laughed as a deep growl rumbled in his chest.

To the outside world we probably just looked like some gay couple mouthfucking and humping each other against a wall, but I knew that Ethan was going to kill me for it later. It wasn't usually my style, but if we were done seeing each other, I was going to go out with a bang. At least I'd know he would think of me, if only because I was the only man he ever kissed. It felt really good for me, and if I could manipulate our current situation into my favor, you're damn right I was going to.

Ethan started to pull away and I let him, though he really had nowhere to go, since he was all up against the wall, but I wasn't going to force him.

"They're faking!" I heard a high-pitched voice shriek.

"Fuck," Ethan hissed again, then his hands were on my ass, and he started groping me.

I shook my head and went with it and did that naughtiest thing I could do in public without getting arrested. I reached between the two of us and started rubbing him through his jeans. I tried to hide a smirk as I realized that he was as big as I'd hoped, but I think Ethan caught it.

"Oh shit," he gasped, his voice shooting up an octave.

I could hear the big dude approaching from somewhere behind us and I leaned into Ethan's ear to whisper, "If you don't want to get your balls ripped off for touching this guy's girlfriend, you better act a little bit better."

I then took my time kissing down the side of his neck, savoring the fact that this could possibly be my only chance. I darted my tongue out to taste him and inhaled the scent of his skin because I was frankly too stupid and curious to realize it was only going to make me want him more. I stopped to suck at his pulse point lightly and felt him shift against me as he gave my ass a squeeze. I licked over to his Adam's apple and sucked, reaching just a bit lower to squeeze him in return. He was definitely getting hard, whether he wanted to or not.

His hands stayed awkwardly still on my ass while his head pushed back against the wall. "Fuck me," he groaned, then froze.

I chuckled and shook my head, mumbling, "Relax," into his neck. "Move your hands," I instructed.

"Where?" he whispered.

I laughed at him again. "I don't care, just move them."

He surprised me when he pushed them under the back of my shirt. His nails dug in lightly as he scratched up to my shoulder and back down again and my hips jerked forward on their own accord, meeting just my hand that was still rubbing his cock through his jeans.

"My girlfriend says you were grabbing her," the big dude behind us said, sounding rather embarrassed.

"What?" I asked him, my lips still working over Ethan's neck.

"My girl, she says you guys are faking, one of you grabbed her."

Ethan felt hard against my hand, so I changed the position of my hand, aiming to hit the top of his cock to hopefully get him to make a little noise for me. I rubbed along the underside of his cock through his jeans, right up to the head of his cock, and bit down lightly on his neck.

He moaned and his nails dug into my back. I looked up to his face to see his eyes closed and his jaw clenched.

"Hey faggots, would you stop for two seconds?" the dude behind us muttered uncomfortably.

I removed my mouth from Ethan's neck and my hands from his cock and pivoted toward the prick, who I was almost fond of for getting Ethan to drunkenly attack me, until the ‘faggots’ remark.

God, that sounds pathetic.

"Listen, I don't know what your little girlfriend's problem is, but I'm assuming she probably threw herself at my boyfriend and he turned her down, now she's pissed off."

The guy looked downright humiliated, but after he glanced over his shoulder, presumably at said girlfriend, he didn't relent.

"She said one of you grabbed her." He tried to look everywhere but at us, as Ethan's hands surprisingly stayed in my shirt even after I pivoted and he started to toy with my happy trail, which seriously started to make me a little incoherent with lust.

"Yeah, you already said that. Look, honestly, sweetie, no offense or anything, but my boyfriend isn't going to go around grabbing random chicks. He knows I'm the best lay here, not to mention that I give better head than any girl you'll ever meet, and I actually enjoy it."

The guy turned on his heel after that and didn't look back, even when his girlfriend started bitching. I really kind of felt bad about the fact that Ethan grabbed her and normally, I would let the guy kick his ass for it, but I knew Ethan, and he wasn't the type to hurt a woman. He was drunk and confused, and it was my fault.

"I'm gonna throw up," Ethan muttered, withdrawing his hands from my shirt.

I rolled my eyes and turned around, assuming he was being theatrical about the predicament, but he looked really ill, and on the verge of up-chucking—not at all in a joking type of way. "Can you make it outside?" I asked him.

"Fuck," he groaned, then grabbed my hand and started jogging, pulling me with him.

He shoved the back doors open and barely made it around the corner before he was blowing chunks all over the sidewalk.

"Jesus. You're hot and all, but even if that big motherfucker comes back for an encore performance from us, I am not kissing you again after that," I said, mostly to distract myself from the god-awful sound of him puking on the cement. "He can kick your ass all he wants. Oh, fuck, that smells bad." I started to walk away as he started all over again.

The night was an absolute disaster. I had no idea what was going to happen. Considering he was drunk, it could turn out in a lot of ways, though I knew I couldn't just go back to him not knowing about me. I wouldn't be able to pretend he didn't know, if he did forget. There was no way in hell I was going to be able to push the night's events from my mind like they never happened, especially after I felt his cock and his mouth on mine and his nails digging into my back. I could still taste him on my tongue. I couldn't just forget about that.

After I realized that the sound of his retching had died off, I chanced a look back over my shoulder, to see that he was crumpled down against the side of the building. I walked back to him and held my hand out, to which he responded by shoving his keys into my open palm.

Wordlessly, I left to bring his car around and he clambered his way into the passenger side. Once inside, he turned the music off and the air on high, even though it wasn't really hot out. The air just made the smell of stale beer and vomit circulate around the car faster, but I didn't say anything as I drove out of the parking lot.

Halfway to his house I changed my mind and started driving to my own. I couldn't leave him at home alone in his condition. Just as we were passing the turn off to his house, he leaned forward and started moaning.

"Don't you puke in the car," I warned.

"Pull over," he groaned, but it was already too late.

I couldn't move the car over fast enough with the other traffic in my way and he gave me no warning at all. The bastard even managed to get some puke on me.

I rolled down all the windows after that and Ethan seemed to pass out against the seat.

I didn't bother trying to clean up his car, I just dragged his sorry ass inside, stripped him of his vomit-covered clothing and cleaned him up as best as I could before throwing him into my bed.

I barely managed to get the clothing into the washer without gagging myself.

It was one of those moments when I was really ecstatic that I was a gay man with no desire for a family at all, because I could never do that shit for a child.

By the time I was able to shower and get ready for bed, I was dead on my feet. And I couldn't even sleep in my own bed.

I had to sleep on the sofa.

For a man who didn't put out.