I wait for him at his place on the front patio, and he shows up a few minutes after I get there. The relief on his face is obvious and I smile at him reassuringly. I am not going anywhere; he doesn't need to worry. When I smile, he shyly looks down at the ground and walks past me. I wonder what he's being shy about now, it's not like we're going in the house to have sex or something, we need to talk. I doubt I'll even try to kiss him tonight, though I know I'll want to, and I'll probably think about doing it a lot, but I was serious when I said we should take it slow. Now, if he kisses me, that will be a completely different story.
Ethan unlocks the door and glances at me over his shoulder. I once again try to smile reassuringly; I hope he doesn't think I'm being creepy.
Finally, he swings the door open and lets me inside. I kick my shoes off and immediately head for the couch, like this is my home or something. Honestly, it feels more like home than my own home does these days. I really missed being here—mostly because it's Ethan place. I also really miss the awesome pool and seeing Ethan in it.
"Would you like something to drink?" Ethan calls and I change my path and head towards the kitchen to meet him there.
I catch him pouring a shitload of vodka into a glass of orange juice, and he has the decency to at least look really guilty when he notices I'm there.
"I need something to take the edge off," he mutters, popping the cap back on and moving to the freezer to put the bottle away.
I reach around him and pull the fridge open to get a bottle of water. I notice that he doesn't really flinch away from me, but I can tell he's holding his breath. I don't know what he's expecting me to do. Grab his dick and tell him we need to get it on already? I don't get it.
I find the water, shut the fridge, and turn to go back to my intended location. As I turn though, Ethan catches my wrist and stops me. "You know I don't talk when I get nervous, and you know I'm really nervous right now, but if you're going to be all pissy about it, I don't have to drink."
"Do what you have to do," I reply lightly, shaking him off of my wrist.
"Great," he says, turning back to his cup, "my first hissy fit."
While he's turned, I walk away. Instead of heading for the couch, I decide to go up the stairs. I'm about halfway up before I hear Ethan cursing to himself and heading in the opposite direction as me. From where I am, I'm at a vantage point and I can see basically everything he does, so I stop and watch from the second-floor landing.
"Jasper, I didn't—" he starts to say apologetically but then he realizes that I'm not where he expected me to be.
He turns and heads towards the bathroom and does a complete loop around the stairs, calling, "Jasper?" once, expectantly.
I don't answer him, because I'm being petty, and I can't believe he said I was throwing a hissy fit. I'll show him a hissy fit.
He does another loop around the stairs, this time I hear him go out the backdoor to check for me by the pool. When he doesn't find me there, he comes racing back into the entry area and runs right for the door. His hand is buried into his hair, and I think he's probably freaking out a little bit that I've left because of what he said. He yanks the door open and looks outside, and visibly relaxes when he sees my car is still in his drive, but then his shoulders stiffen and he looks downright pissed, even from behind.
"Jasper!" he calls angrily.
He slams the door and turns around, and his eyes dart up to mine. "Prick," he yells, ripping his hand from his hair to throw in my direction, to show how angry he is. I'm not impressed. "I'm not six years old, I don't play hide and seek anymore. Couldn't you just answer me?"
I raise one eyebrow scornfully and he basically withers before my eyes. "Okay, fine, I get it, I was being an ass. I'm sorry."
He starts in my direction, climbing the stairs slowly, and completely freezes halfway up. His eyes dart up, scanning the hall on either side of me like something is going to pop out and get him.
"Why are we going upstairs?" he asks.
Ah. He thinks I'm going to take his beloved virginity already. Silly boy. "I'm getting past one of your 'Do Not Enter' signs tonight," I tell him, just to mess with him a little bit—it's the only screwing we're going to be doing for a while.
I don't wait for him to respond to that, and I turn towards his bedroom, which just happens to be in the same direction as my actual destination: The Secret Room.
It's not like it's actually a secret room or something, but in all the time I'd spent at his house, he'd always avoided the third floor. I don't know why, but I assume it's because it's personal to him. So that's where I'm going.
I take a seat on the fluffy blanket and pillow bed on the floor and make myself comfy. It takes him about ten minutes to either figure out what I meant or to get the courage to face me up here. I'm assuming the latter, though, because he's pretty smart and pretty cowardly sometimes.
"Why are you up here?" he asks.
"Because it's your personal space and I want to get in your personal space."
His face turns red, and he grits his teeth. "Would you stop with the jokes?"
"What jokes?" I ask back, the picture of innocence.
"The butt sex jokes," he says through tight lips.
"Butt sex?" I repeat, and his face turns even redder. "Anal? Dirty digging? Backdoor action? Ass ravaging? Fudge packing?"
"Oh my God, Jasper, stop!" he yells. I don't think he could look anymore embarrassed.
"You wanted a hissy fit," I challenge.
He sighs. "Didn't you already punish me for that?"
"Baby, I haven't even started throwing a 'hissy fit' yet."
His eyes widen and dart towards me when I call him 'baby'. I'm not sure if he likes it or not, but I frankly don't give a shit right now. He's being a baby, whether I meant it as an endearment is up for him to decide. He appears to soften, so I take it that he is okay with me calling him it.
He is carrying his glass of mostly vodka, and it appears that he hasn't drunk a whole lot yet. He sets it down on a table and slowly moves closer to where I'm currently laying. He sits down next to me with his back against the wall. We both remain silent for a few long minutes, then I speak.
"Why haven't you brought me up here?"
"Like you said, it's my personal space," he replies.
"That doesn't answer my question."
He sighs. "I wasn't ready to bring you up here," he answers.
"Okay, better. Would you like me to leave?"
"No," he says quickly.
"I just mean would you rather I wasn't up here, would you like me to leave this room?" I clarify, in case he thought I meant to leave altogether.
"No," he repeats. "I don't want you to leave at all, I want you here."
"Okay." There is a quiet pause before I ask, "So you play the piano?"
"Sometimes," he replies.
"I've never heard you," I persist.
"That's because I've never played for you," he says, more cynical than anything.
I sigh and sit up, putting my back to Ethan. "Maybe I should go," I suggest.
"You know I'm like this," he snaps, "so stop making me feel so guilty. Don't act like you don't know I'm an insensitive asshole."
"I'm tired, Ethan, I should have just gone home. I'm sorry, but I think it's better if we put this off until later. We both need a little time alone, I think."
"No," he says defiantly. "There are like seventeen bedrooms in this house, find one and sleep here.
"Why?" I ask. "So you can accuse me of something heinous again? We need to be alone, apart from each other, to think. You don't trust me, at all, and I can't even stand the way you've been watching me all night. You act like I'm going to be waiting around every corner with my dick out, ready to stick it in you. I'm not a monster, I know I'm the bad guy in our situation, but Ethan, I never meant to hurt you like I did. We both need to take a step back and breathe. You still have my number, you can call me whenever you are ready, but for now, I think it's best if we just give each other a little space."
"I don't want you to go," he says.
I sigh. "I know, Ethan. But I also know why you don't want me to go, even if you won't come out and say it. You don't want me to go because you're scared I'm not going to come back. You don't want me to go because you don't trust me not to do something behind your back. I want you to want me to stay, not to not want me to go, which is why I do have to leave right now."
"I don't understand how you leaving is going to make anything better," he says.
I turn towards him and offer him a small, tired smile. "It will, because when you call me, it'll let me know that you want me to come back because you want me here. And I will come back, not just because you want me to, but because you are the man I want to be with, the only man. So, goodnight, Ethan."
He doesn't say anything as I stand and start to walk away.
My head hurts and my eyes are blurry, and I just want to go to sleep. I love him, and I know I can be patient, but tonight, I seriously need to get some sleep. I trust him enough to believe he'll call when he's ready.
I'm just unlocking my car doors when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and see Ethan's names flashing on the screen. I turn around and look up at the huge window wall and see him standing there with his phone pressed to his ear, staring down at me.
I open the phone and bring it to my ear.
"Come back," he says.