Part 15. So...uh, yeah. That just happened...: Jason's Perspective
"So, what's the deal, John?" I said to him, as he looked at me without yet saying whatever it was that he felt like he needed to reveal to me. "What do you have to be honest with me about?"
After sitting in silence for another few moments, John finally spoke. "It has to do with the real reason that there's been tension between us over the past several months and I've had moments of being not so nice to you."
"So then, the BS excuse you gave me yesterday was a lie?" I said, with a wide-eyed look on my face and a mock-innocent tone of voice as a sarcastic response to him. John already knew I didn't really buy that line he'd fed me last night at the bar downstairs.
He ignored my sarcasm. "I lied to you yesterday because I was ashamed of how I wanted to react and then how I DID act when it was pointed out to me that you're gay and I didn't want you to think less of me."
"Pointed out? I thought you only found out earlier when you caught the concierge leaving here." Only a small handful of people at work had actually heard that I'm gay from my own lips. If someone was going around, talking out of school about my personal life, I sure as hell wanted to know about it.
He looked down at the table momentarily, as if he was summoning the courage to continue talking, then looked back into my eyes. "My wife told me."
"Your wife?!" I wouldn't even need all five fingers on my hand to count the number of times I'd laid eyes on his wife in the seven years that he'd been at Glenmont. And, to my knowledge, she wasn't close with anyone else at the office. How would she know?
"Yeah. About a year after I started at Glenmont, I was telling her about everyone in the office. I mentioned how friendly you were and about those supportive e-mails you'd sent me. She told me you might be gay. Then, after she met you, she confirmed she was right."
Without meaning to, I let out a snort of derision. "What? Is she a hag in her spare time, or something?"
Looking unhappy, he tensed up in his chair. "I know what that term means. That's not a fair thing to say, Jason. Not that it's any of your business, but her father's gay and she has several gay friends. It was just a feeling she had after meeting you that first time she brought my oldest daughter by the office for a visit."
"Okay. Fair enough. But I don't understand why you'd be ashamed. It wasn't until a little over a year ago that you started acting weird toward me."
"I know. That's not the part I'm ashamed of. The next part is. After she told me, I realized from the way you'd been acting toward me that must have a thing for me. I had an overreaction and was intent on sitting down with you and telling you to forget about whatever feelings you might have for me."
John have an overreaction? No...not, John! "I see. That would've been awkward and embarrassing for both of us."
"That's exactly what Laura said to me when she talked me out of doing that."
Even though the conversation was serious and things felt tense between John and I, he let a smile cross his face as he looked at me. I could tell that there was still more to talk about, so I didn't want to put him at ease just yet, in case things took a hostile turn later. "I guess it's a testament to your self-restraint that I never knew until about a year ago that you were feeling ill at ease around me. But, what does a conversation with your wife from five years ago have to do with why you've been acting weird toward me for the past year?"
The smile faded from John's face and he turned serious again. "This is the main part of what I wanted to be honest with you about. After figuring out about your crush, I started to become super-aware of how you'd interact with me when we'd be in a room together. I noticed you flirting with me, teasing me, sneaking glances at my crotch, and other things."
So much for my belief that I was being subtle when trying to see the outline of his flaccid dick in his pants. "John, I'm sorry. The flirting was just harmless, so I'm actually not sorry about that. But the crotch thing, I thought I was being more subtle than I was."
Surprisingly, he laughed. "It's not hard to miss talking to someone and, one minute they're looking at your face, then next you see their eyes divert lower and you can tell they're trying to burn a hole in your pants with their eyes."
All I could do was shrug my shoulders. "What can I say? I'm a red-blooded gay man. But I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"Truthfully, you didn't make me uncomfortable. Like you just said, everything you were doing was harmless. You were overtly coming on to me. *I* was the reason I was uncomfortable with what you were doing. That and how I began to feel made me feel the need to push you away. Despite the fact that my wife had talked me out of confronting you five years ago, I was too insecure and self-conscious to have a healthy conversation with you. Instead, I started - as you put it earlier - acting like an asshole toward you."
Suddenly, it all made sense. He was trying to drive a wedge between us and keep himself from feeling uncomfortable. But something still didn't make sense. If he realized I was just engaging in some harmless flirting - which he was also dishing back out at me, by the way - why was he feeling uncomfortable in the first place? "What do you mean that how you were feeling caused you to feel like you had to push me away?"
John looked mighty uncomfortable next to me at the table. In fact, I wager that it was taking every fiber of his being not to jump out of his own skin. "You know... Like I just said... I was uncomfortable. That's all."
