Sometimes it's been so long since you've felt good, you can't even remember what it was like. I didn't know when I started feeling this bad, but it must've happened a long time ago, when I wasn't paying attention, mired deep in a bad relationship in a city seven hours away from my small-town home. I didn't even know how miserable I'd actually been until this moment, when Louis Welch and I were holding each other in the back seat of my dad's old Shelby 500 GT that had been sitting under a tarp in the garage for almost 20 years, after mind-blowing, surprising sex that came from nowhere and just exploded between us.
For a long time we said nothing. I just lay there with my cheek on his chest, my hand on his bicep, thinking how good I felt. I thought I was miserable about getting dumped and losing my job and having to move home to my brother's basement, but actually I wasn't miserable at all. There was nothing complicated about it: I was happy. In just about an hour Louis Welch had turned everything that had been happening in my life from bad to good. If I hadn't lost my job, if that dick Marc hadn't kicked me out, I never would have come home. I never would have turned to Louis and kissed him in my brother's auto shop and it never would have led to this.
All these years I'd known Louis, since the sixth grade, when he started coming over to our house to spend the night with my brother Andy. We'd eat cereal and watch Saturday morning wrestling on the living room floor. Andy was the popular one, always surrounded by crowds of friends, and I was weird little brother everybody picked on. Only Louis was ever nice to me. I angled my head up from his chest and looked up at him amazement; I couldn't believe what had just happened between us. Louis Welch, after all this time, I didn't really know him at all.
He noticed me looking at him and smiled, pushing back his long, wavy brown hair, falling out of its ponytail in the aftermath of our wild, hot sex. God, he was so cute. "It's getting cold in here."
"Yeah." The sweat was drying on our skin and I pulled up my pants and zipped them. "Want to go in the house?"
"Where's Andy?" he hesitated.
"Took the kids to a classic car show at the state fairgrounds. They won't be back until tomorrow." I grinned as his face lit up, realizing what this meant. We had the whole house to ourselves all night. "You hungry?"
"Hell yes." We were both a little stoned and I had the major munchies. We giggled like kids as we pulled on our jackets and gathered up our come-stained t-shirts we'd used to wipe up the back seat; but there was nothing we could do about the back windshield of the car that I'd cracked with the cast on my arm in a moment of passion. Andy was going to be pissed off and I'd have to pay for a new one, but right now it was hilarious.
"Shit, that was good weed, Louis," I said, stumbling a little, grinning like an idiot.
"I know," he answered smugly. We pulled the tarp back over the Mustang and locked the door behind us. While we were getting it on, the sky had turned black and rain slanted down in torrents. Before it started, Louis had walked down the gravel drive from the house instead of driving his car when he came down to the garage looking for me, so we were forced to make a mad dash through the cold rain, holding hands. When we got up to the door we were both soaked to the skin, our teeth chattering as we stripped off our dripping jackets and shoes in Andy's kitchen; despite the cold, we were making out. As we kissed I kept my eyes open. I wanted to see him. How could I never have seen before how sexy he was? Some of Andy's other friends were hot, I used to have a big crush on this guy Eric, but I'd never thought of Louis that way. Even with his long hair wet and matted down from the rain, and that scruffy little beard, he still had the same cute smile I remembered through the years. He always smiled at me, always asked me how I was doing. What might have happened if I'd noticed him years ago?
My hands slid over his cold, wet bare stomach down to his jeans, where my fingers worked the top button. "Let's get these wet clothes off before you catch your death."
"Yeah, I could really use a hot shower," he answered, and I backed off, a little hurt.
"Okay, I'll go find you some dry clothes."
"You're not going anywhere." Louis caught me and pulled me back to him. "I meant both of us, Sean."
"I can't take a shower. I can't get this cast wet," I reminded him.
"Don't worry about that. You go get some towels and some dry clothes and come back upstairs. Go," he smacked my butt and I went downstairs to my room to find us both some clothes. Louis was a little taller than me, but my clothes would fit him, so after digging t-shirts and track pants out of one of the piles I went back upstairs at a run.A few years ago Andy spent a lot of money remodeling the master bedroom, adding on a huge bathroom and walk-in closet to please his ex-wife, who wanted everything to be more and better than what Andy could afford. With Louis' help he'd installed a huge double Jacuzzi, surrounded in gorgeous tile, with a separate shower. Andy only took showers and the kids had a separate bathroom in the hallway when they came on weekends, so since the bitch left the tub was just sitting empty and unused, except as a hamper for Andy's dirty laundry.
When I went through my brother's room I could hear the water running in the tub. Louis had cleared out all the dirty clothes and found some bubble bath under the sink that Lindsey had left behind, and he was sitting on the edge of the tub still in his wet jeans, lighting the dusty candles she'd put there that Andy never bothered to get rid of. Looking up, he smiled while I stood staring at what he'd done, touched.
"All this for me?" I whispered. Nobody had ever gone to any trouble like this for me before. It was so romantic, a funny feeling spread over me. Funny as in scary. Especially when I saw his brown eyes looking up at me, his long wet hair hanging free against his cheek, grinning, and my stomach dropped like on the sudden descent of a roller coaster.
"Get in."
There was no way to refuse such an offer. I shyly peeled off my wet jeans and slid into the big tub. The water was hot, warming up my cold feet, and the bubbles closed around my neck like pillowy clouds. There was more than enough room for two people; I watched Louis stand up to take off his pants. In the Mustang's tiny back seat, with my back to him-- getting fucked by him-- I really didn't have a chance to look him over. Naked and beautiful, with slender hips and belly, lean, not cut like my cousin Nick, with soft light brown hair skimming his chest and down over his stomach. Gorgeous cock, perfect, big enough to make my ass a little sore; but it was a good soreness, reminding me how he filled me up. He got in way at the other end of the tub and we faced each other, our outer thighs pressed together under the hot water, while the jets came on and swirled the hot water around us like a boiling cauldron, humming low and steady.
"That feels good." Closing his eyes, Louis sighed and sank back into the foam, his head tipping back against the tiles.
Questions raced through my brain, but they seemed lodged in my throat. Usually I talk and talk; I rarely ever shut up. But for the first time in my life I was speechless. I really liked Louis, more than I had liked anyone in a very long time. This terrified me. I had to be careful. I didn't want to get hurt, but I hadn't felt this way since.... Well, I didn't even like to remember that far back. Being with Louis wasn't like being with someone new, where you're constantly worrying about the impression you're making, and going through the tedious getting-to-know-you stage, "Hey, that's my favorite Chili Peppers album too," kind of shit. It felt like just catching up. He knew me, he knew my family as well as I did. He even knew my dad...
"So, did you come over here today to fuck me?" I finally said, going all the way to cynical, protecting myself. When I found myself caring, I got scared and I tried to push people away. I knew it. Maybe that was why I found myself in rotten relationships with people I didn't really love. I didn't love them so they couldn't hurt me. I was safe behind my impenetrable walls.
Louis laughed with his eyes closed. The way he looked, sexy and relaxed, made me start to get a hard-on again, even though I hadn't fully recovered from our passionate explosion in the back seat. I could fall for him, I realized with a sudden sick feeling. I'd known him practically my whole life; he was a part of my life already. It wouldn't take much for him to get into my heart, my soul.
"I came over here to smoke some weed with your brother; I didn't know he'd be out of town. But I saw he wasn't here so I found you playing with yourself. The rest is history."
Run, my every instinct told me. Run far, run fast. Around this time, I usually started acting like an asshole, doing something to screw things up and sabotage my chances with someone I actually might like. I don't know why I did it, but the story was always the same. However, I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I managed to remind myself how good I felt when I was with him, and I laughed slightly and let some of my fear slip away. My questions-- was he gay, was he just fucking around with my emotions-- weren't that important. I wasn't going to marry the guy. Why ask a lot of questions he might not be ready to answer? Louis didn't have to tear my walls down; he was already there, behind them, before they even existed. Why not, for once in my life, just enjoy the moment?
"Can you help me wash my hair?" I asked softly. "It's hard to do with one hand."