For a moment, we just stared at each other, the weight of those words settling in around and on top of us. We’d said it, breathed life into it, and there was no pretending we hadn’t. Not forever, anyway.
Mitch shifted a little, wincing, and lifted himself up. He pulled out carefully, both of us gasping as he slid free.
Then he got up to get rid of the condom. As he came back, he said, “Shower?”
I nodded. “Good idea.” I sat up slowly, since my head was still spinning, and stood carefully on my wobbly legs.
Mitch gently grasped my elbow. “You all right?” he asked, chuckling.
“Yeah.” I grinned at him. “Smug bastard.” Our eyes met, and we both laughed. I was relieved at the levity. Anything to avoid discussing the brief conversation we’d just had. It would come up eventually—sooner than later, knowing us—but I was grateful for a momentary break from it.
The shower stall was cramped—just a curtain across a bathtub that no one of average height could have reclined in comfortably. Between that and the half-hearted spray from the showerhead, we had no choice but to get close together.
Not that we needed and excuse. We held each other beneath the lukewarm water, wet hands running over wet skin as we lazily made out.
All the while, his words—our words—echoed in my head.
I love you.
I love you too.
It was true. Of course it was.
Just like it was true that nothing in this room could be allowed to see the light of day. That we were asking for disaster if we let those seven gentle words turn this into something more real than it had any right to be. There was nothing we could do about that, and it was pointless to even fantasize about it, never mind admit that we felt the way we did.
After a while, he broke the kiss, and my heart pounded. I knew what was coming.
Don’t, Mitch. Just let it go.
He touched his forehead to mine. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”
A lump tried to rise in my throat, but I pushed it back. “I meant it too.”
And…what? Would that change anything? Of course it wouldn’t. It would only make it harder for us to walk away.
So I didn’t say anything more. Neither did Mitch. I kissed him, and he held on to me, and even if I love you was too big and goodbye was too painful, this was perfect, so we let it happen.
Eventually, Mitch turned off the water. We dried ourselves with the tiny, coarse towels provided by the motel before returning to the main part of our room.
By all rights, this was when we should have been getting dressed and making our awkward, whispered goodbyes in between promises to never do this again. There was still time before sunrise, though. At least that was what I told myself as we pulled the covers back and climbed into bed.
There were no words. We’d already said too damned much tonight, so we just pulled each other close end didn’t say a thing. As we made out again, post-orgasmic lethargy vanished in favor of renewed need for each other, and we gave in because what else could we do? I loved him. He loved me. We wanted each other, and this was the one and only way we could have each other, so we gave in.
I was on top this time, and I put him on his knees while I fucked him, but even that wasn’t enough to convince myself this was superficial, emotionless sex. I wanted more than just his body, and so I finally gave in and pulled out and told him to get on his back, and he did, and I made love to him like that, eyes locked and bodies moving together, and God, we really did feel like we were made for each other like this. We fit together perfectly, from my hips between his legs to my shoulders in his hands, from my lips in the crook of his neck to his hand cupping the back of my head, from our synchronized breathing to the way his orgasm set mine off and the way we both shuddered to a stop at the same time.
Another shower could wait. For now, I got rid of the condom and sank into bed beside him again. He rested his head on my shoulder, and just like the sex we’d just had, this was perfect. I knew this wouldn’t last forever—it wouldn’t even last ’til daylight—but I was in no hurry to see it end. No matter how much more complicated we’d made things, no matter how much all of this would inevitably hurt tomorrow, it was bliss tonight.
Mitch was still awake, his head on my shoulder, and I combed my fingers through his hair.
He lifted himself up and met my eyes. “You ever wonder what this could have—”
“All the time.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to go there. Not tonight.”
“Travis, we—”
“There’s a reason we went our separate ways.”
He smoothed my hair with a gentle if slightly unsteady hand. “There was a reason we were together too. And why we keep coming back together.”
I sighed. “I know.”
Mitch kissed my cheek. “If I could change things…” He trailed off, and we both let the heavy silence swallow up any chance of finishing off that thought. It always came back to this. To the moment when the hypotheticals came out, parading themselves around as if they were actual possibilities, and neither of us could bring ourselves to initiate that little dance tonight.
Before I even realized I was speaking, I said, “An interviewer asked about you a while ago.”
Mitch’s whole body tensed. “Oh?”
I nodded, staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at him. “She asked about us going to college together.”
Mitch didn’t speak. The fact that we’d been good friends in college was no great secret. It had become one of those little bits of “bet you didn’t you know” trivia that wound up on game shows and Internet memes, sort of like Al Gore and Tommy Lee Jones being college roommates or Cher dating Tom Cruise.
I went on. “She was trying to get me to talk about what you were like in college.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That we were both just like any other ambitious college kids.” I shrugged. “Drank a lot of beer, ate a lot of pizza, and had plans to take over the world once we graduated.”
He laughed dryly. “That about sums it up.”
“I didn’t tell her that we’d…that you were…”
“I know.” He slid his hand up and down my forearm. “I’d have heard about it by now if you had, and I know you wouldn’t anyway.”
Still staring at the ceiling, I bit back the part where I’d wanted to tell the reporter everything. Deep down, I wished I could tell her we were closer than friends. That we’d been each other’s bedroom experiments and that I’d fallen so, so hard for him back then. That everything we’d both ever said about drifting apart after graduation had been a bald-faced lie, and that once both of us had become public figures, we’d made a point of avoiding each other in public. As if being seen walking down the same street at the same time would somehow give away how many times we’d been inside each other.
But of course I’d kept my mouth shut. I’d never out him.
“I didn’t tell her anything,” I said, just to underscore it and to fill the silence.
“Of course.” He paused. “Sometimes I wish you could.”
“Mitch, don’t. There’s no point in even going there.”
“I know. But goddamn, sometimes…”
“Don’t go there. Please. We can’t do it.” I caressed his face. “When you chose this path, we both knew that meant certain things.” I swallowed hard. “Like not being gay.”
“Not publicly, anyway.” Mitch sighed. “I’ve pretty much padlocked the closet door shut forever. Or until I retire.”
For some reason, the mention of waiting until he retired to come out sounded even more daunting than “forever.” A line at the DMV took forever. Retirement? He was in his early thirties. Assuming he toed the line and didn’t fall out of favor, he easily had thirty years left before he retired. Probably more.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be.” I brought his hand up to my lips and kissed the backs of his fingers. “This is the path you chose, and it’s what makes you happy. I would never ask you to give that up.”
He said nothing. We just held on to each other and let the silence linger.
Fatigue was kicking in hard. Mitch’s breathing slowed. My eyelids were getting heavy. If we stayed like this much longer, we’d both fall asleep.
If I’d had a brain in my head, I’d have texted Toni, Ready whenever you are.
Then I would’ve gotten out of bed and gotten dressed. Left the room, turned in my key, hightailed it to someplace nearby where I could wait for Toni.
But I did none of those things.
I held Mitch tighter, kissed the top of his head, and closed my eyes.