Adam holds the die in his hands, shaking them repeatedly as he closes his eyes. "C'mon, baby, gimme a five," he begs before tossing them on the board. He looks distraught, and I just laugh at the snake eye's he just rolled. "Are you fucking kidding?"
"Maybe this just isn't your game," I tease, scooping up the dice to take my turn.
"This is rigged," he suggests, grinning as he watches me. "Those are loaded."
"I think you're just unlucky," I say with a smile, and I burst out laughing when I roll the five he has so desperately needed for the past seven turns. He playfully curses me out as I move my pieces. We've been playing a couple rounds of Backgammon in my bed, both still naked after a long, much-needed fuck. After we finished, he asked if he could stay a little longer since he has to see another client that lives nearby. There was an awkward amount of time between the end of my session and the beginning of his next encounter -- too much time to head over early, and not enough time to go back to his apartment and then come back in this direction. Of course I let him stay. Anything to spend more time with him. We whipped out the Backgammon board on a whim, and though I'm not exactly amazing at this game, Adam has somehow managed to be stuck in jail for quite some time.
"Can I just forfeit?" he asks.
I laugh. "You're giving up?" I ask, and when he just gives me a look while gesturing to the board, I see that it's clear that I'm going to win. I just bite my lip a bit. "I see your point."
"Bastard," he mutters with a grin. "Remind me to never play board games with you ever again," he adds as he shifts onto his back, giving me ample opportunity to study his naked form. I feel my mouth get wet again, still finding myself as attracted to him as I was the first night I saw him. Somehow he looks so sensually elegant wearing nothing but that thin gold chain of his.
"Don't be like that," I say, still sitting Indian-style in front of the board, smiling at him. Then, I ask a question that has suddenly crossed my mind. "Do you ever take that thing off?"
He glances at me before he realizes what I'm referring to. "This?" he asks, tugging on his chain. Then he laughs a little. "Nah, not really."
"Is it special?"
"Sort of." He smiles slightly. "It's kind of all I have left of my mom."
I feel something get caught in my throat, and I freeze a bit. Not more tragedy. "Adam..."
"Don't you dare go all sad on me," he says, smiling. "It happened a long, long time ago."
I try not to feel down, but my heart goes out to him. "How old were you?"
"Five," he says. "Took me a bit to understand really what happened."
"What happened?" I ask tentatively.
He looks at me. "Car accident," he says. "My brother and I became orphans" -- here, he snaps his fingers -- "just like that."
I wince. "You mean... your dad--?"
"Yep," he says, nodding. "Lost them both."
"Fucking Christ," I mutter, looking away. This poor kid. I can't even imagine having your parents taken from you at such a young age. It makes me question whether or not I'm allowed to say that I don't really have parents either, a phrase I so cavalierly toss around whenever the subject of moms and dads come up. Being estranged is not the same as being orphaned.
I see Adam's hand reach over to touch my knee. "It's okay, Teddy. Really." When I look at him, I see that he's smiling slightly.
"It's just... tragic," I say.
"I made it out okay, though," he says. "It was hard on my brother, but... we had each other. And my grandparents raised us pretty well."
I bite my lip. "Do you miss them?"
"I don't really remember them, to be honest," he admits softly, glancing at me as he tugs on his chain. "Is that bad?"
"I mean, you were so young," I say.
"True," he says with a nod before shrugging. "Still." Then, all of a sudden, he sits up quickly, craning his neck to check the clock on my nightstand. "Shit, I'm gonna be late."
I glance at the time and nod. He's pushing it, but I don't say anything because I don't want him to regret hanging out with me for a little bit longer. Off the clock, no less. "Need anything?" I ask as he swings himself off the bed, looking for his clothes.
"I think I'm good," he says, pulling on his shirt first before picking up his pants and scanning the floor curiously. "Where the hell is my underwear?"
"Check the living room," I suggest, smiling slightly. That's where things started, though I can't exactly remember how we got undressed. It was all a blur. A sexy, passionate blur.
"But my pants were right here," he says, looking confused before he shakes his head. "Whatever." He pulls on his tight-fitting jeans, stuffing his cock in before zipping up. "If you find them..." Then he laughs, probably thinking I'll do something pervy with them. Which he's right about. "Just let me know."
I blush but smile. "I will," I say, meaning it. They're a nice pair of underwear, that's for sure. Probably expensive. Maybe I'll wash them for him when I find them... after I jerk off with them, of course.
"Thanks." He smiles and then comes around to the side of the bed before reaching over to grab me. He gives me a quick half-hug and then kisses my cheek. "Bye, Teddy Bear," he teases, chuckling to himself as he leaves my bedroom.
"Bye," I call out, feeling the smile stretch across my lips as I listen to him pull on his boots and head out the front door. Once that door closes, though, there's silence. It's a heavy silence that screams about loneliness, and it slaps the smile right off my face. I sigh heavily. Watching him go and knowing where he's going makes my stomach turn a little, and as I fall back onto the bed, I try my best not to cry.
~ ~ ~
"You look down."
I glance up at Clark, who, while scrubbing one of my dirty plates, is staring at me curiously. "Do I?" I ask stupidly.
"Up, down, sideways." Clark smiles gently before placing the plate in the drying rack next to all the other dishes of mine that he's so graciously done for me. And what am I doing? Sitting opposite the island sink and resting my face moodily against my fist. "What's going on, Cub?" he asks, using his nickname for me to soften me up.
I've been dying to tell Clark about Adam for a while now. I've seen Adam multiple times a week for the past month, and every time I see him, I get both happier and more depressed. It's like I'm stretching myself in two different directions. Negatives aside, we've really gotten to know each other. In general, when we're together, we act kind of like old friends. But the sex feels hopelessly romantic to me, which makes our encounters feel like dates where I can pretend we're lovers. Then, as soon as he's gone, I know he's off to fuck someone else, to make someone else feel wanted, and try as I might to think about it rationally, it still hurts.
It's killing me, honestly. There's always that part of me that foolishly believes things will work out for me. For us. And it doesn't help that I feel this weird shame about it. It's not something I really want to talk about out loud since it's taboo enough for me to look weird and stupid enough for me to look dumb. But Clark is perceptive. He's noticed how up and down I've been lately. I guess, in the end, I'm not necessarily afraid that he'll judge me. I'm more afraid of him telling me what I need to hear: that it has to end.
I sigh heavily. Fuck it. I have to tell him eventually, don't I? "I have a confession," I say, biting my lip a bit.
Clark looks intrigued before he laughs. "This isn't church."
"You sure, Father?" I ask with a slight grin.
He chuckles before doing the sign of the cross over me. "Three Hail Marys, and a young boy of your choosing," he jokes.
