Ethan stood a few feet away, and they stared at each other. After the surprising—shocking, really—ease Clay had felt since he’d woken with Ethan sprawled on his belly beside him, now it was painfully awkward. He was half convinced he’d wake up alone now and this would all be gone in a sleepy blink.
He didn’t know what to think or say, so he blurted, “Reckon we should eat our brekkie before it gets too cold. Oh, let me get Gilly sorted. Go ahead and start.”
Ethan nodded, and Clay hurried to let Gilly in and give him some love and food, refilling his water dish as well. Once Gilly was wolfing down his kibble, Clay returned to the living room.
Perching on the near end of the couch, Ethan hadn’t touched the Macca’s. He smiled at Clay anxiously, and Clay moved to sit beside him, leaving the middle cushion between them, a strange buzzing in his head and chest. At least it didn’t seem like Ethan was going to do a runner at the moment.
Clay rummaged in the paper bag, eager for any kind of distraction. He pulled out his sausage McMuffin and hash brown, then slid the bag to the left toward Ethan. Then he put the coffee with the creamer on the table in front of Ethan, almost spilling both cups as he yanked one too hard from the cardboard holder. “The sugar packet’s in the bag.”
“Great. Thanks.” Ethan gave him a half-hearted smile.
It was surreal was what it was. Clay unwrapped his sandwich and took a huge bite, filling his mouth. As he chewed, his brain tried to catch up with it all. When he’d woken in bed with Ethan breathing heavily beside him, his full pink lips parted and brown hair askew, Clay had waited for the panic to set it.
Except it hadn’t.
Flushing from head to toe, he’d remembered all the things they’d done together, and he’d been happier than he could imagine possible. Peaceful. Satisfied. Thrilled. He’d done it. He’d done the thing he’d been thinking about since Fraser Island. He’d kissed Ethan and touched him all over, and it had been marvelous. Clay honestly hadn’t realized sex could be like that.
And he wanted more of it, he couldn’t deny it. Didn’t want to deny it. From the corner of his eye, Clay glanced at Ethan as he used a plastic stick to stir the sugar into his coffee. Clay wanted more of Ethan. It was crazy, though. Wasn’t it? Aside from being a bloke, Ethan was too young. Only a few years older than Sam and Pete.
A fresh spike of dread hooked into him. Sam had been there. She’d been standing right there, and she’d seen him and Ethan together, and he’d had to answer her incredulous questions honestly because aside from the momentary lapse that morning when he’d denied it, he’d never lied to her about anything that counted. (Fibs about Santa Claus being real, eating Maccas, and messaging women on dating sites didn’t count.)
What he and Ethan had done counted.
Clay bit into his hash brown in the silence. Part of him still couldn’t believe he’d done any of it. But that urge to know had clawed at him, and he didn’t regret it. Couldn’t. Even after seeing Sam’s sweet, pretty face so stunned.
But she was a good girl. Always had been. For some reason or other, his brain spewed up a memory of one of her primary school report cards.
Samantha is friendly and kind to all students. She always speaks up for her classmate Tom if he is teased on the playground. As you know, this has at times taken an aggressive turn, but we can’t fault Samantha for her compassion.
It had gone on to say that of course they didn’t condone violence, referring to the time Sam had given a bully a swift kick below the belt. Tom had Down syndrome, and Clay had never understood how some of the other kids could be so cruel to the poor lad. He supposed that was kids for you. People, really. Some of them were cruel arseholes their whole lives.
But he’d always remembered the teacher’s words with pride. His Sam would always kick bullies and tell off anyone who needed it. She’d never been afraid to speak her mind. And she’d hugged him so tightly before she left. As Clay and Ethan ate in silence, Clay thought of how she’d smelled faintly of vanilla and barbecue smoke, and how she’d whispered in his ear.
“Love you, Dad. No matter what.”
He felt another rush of relief now. Yes, she’d have his back the way she had when Barb had announced she was leaving. Clay had been at such a loss, and Sam had made the plan for him to move down to Sydney. Said she was tired of living on campus, and renting a house together would be perfect. Even though the last thing most kids her age wanted to do was live with their old man instead of their mates. Pete had been bumming around the New Zealand ski hills and had probably been relieved to be off the hook.
What would Pete think about his dad being a…a whatever he was? And Barb? Clay couldn’t even imagine what Barb would think. His gut tightened.
“Thanks for breakfast.”
Clay yanked his mind back to the couch and Ethan barely an arm’s length away. “Of course,” he said before gulping down a mouthful of cooling coffee. Then he realized he’d been mumbling and not looking at Ethan. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head to face Ethan directly, repeating, “Of course.” He added, “Sam gets on me for eating too much fried food, but sometimes it hits the spot.”
Ethan smiled tentatively. “Totally.” He folded his empty sandwich wrapper into a tiny square. “Are you okay?”
Clay had to laugh. “No bloody idea, mate. Reckon I’m in a bit of shock.”
“I don’t blame you. This is a lot to process. But Sam seems really cool. Whether or not you decide you’re…” He seemed to be trying to find the right words. “Whether you’re just experimenting, or you end up, you know…officially coming out? It seems like she’ll be supportive. Which is awesome.”
Coming out.
The words loomed large and strange. He took another gulp of coffee. “Feels like more than experimenting. All those names you were ticking off last night—gay, bisexual, demi, and the rest—it’s all new to me. I mean, of course I knew there were gay people about. Just seems that it’s much more open now.”
“Right. It’s being destigmatized. I think people are able to be more open about their identity than they could be in the past. There’s still a long way to go, though.”
Clay rolled the new word around in his mind, repeating it. “Destigmatized. Huh.”
Gilly bounded into the living room, eager for attention. Clay and Ethan both scratched him for a minute, then Clay pointed to the doggy bed in the corner. Gilly obediently went and curled up.
Clay cleared his throat. “Anyway, growing up, all this stuff just wasn’t talked about. At least not that I remember. I’d see Peter Allen on the telly sometimes when I was little. He was always flashy, but it just never crossed my mind. I remember my dad wasn’t keen on him, but Mum loved that song ‘Tenterfield Saddler.’ She had the old record. It’s a good one, that. Tugs on the heartstrings. She still likes to listen to it. It’s amazing how even with dementia, songs are somehow hardwired into the brain. She can still sing along to all her old favorites even when she can’t recall my name.”
“Really? Wow. That’s amazing.” He smiled softly. “At least you can still share music with her.”
“Yeah, we’ll listen for hours. Peter Allen had another one called ‘I Still Call Australia Home’ that’s brilliant.” Clay laughed ruefully. “I’ve never even been as far as Tassie and it chokes me up.”
Ethan smiled. “I’ll have to look those up.”
“Qantas did a good commercial with ‘I Still Call Australia Home’ about twenty years ago with kids singing it and all these shots of places around the world and then around Australia. I tell you what, you’ll never see a pub full of blokey blokes get so teary as when that advert came on.”
“Not even when Australia wins The Ashes?” Ethan teased.
Clay laughed, a thread of tension in him unraveling. “Well, perhaps it’s a draw.” He smiled at Ethan, able to breathe a bit deeper. He let the words come on a shaky exhalation. “I really liked being with you last night.”
That felt like a lie, and he quickly corrected it, because Ethan deserved it. “More than ‘liked.’ I loved it, didn’t I? But with Sam showing up like that, I’m all over the shop. I hope she wasn’t too aggro with you?”
Ethan laughed uncertainly. “I don’t blame her. She sure wasn’t expecting to come home and find a strange guy in her kitchen in his underwear.”
“Strewth. Well, at least you weren’t in the nuddy, eh?”
“Yeah, that’s something at least.” Ethan laughed again, a little breathy and nervous, still perched on the edge of the couch and clutching his sandwich wrapper square. Clay was suddenly aware of how far apart they were, and how much he hated it.
He shifted closer, reaching for Ethan’s hand. “Sorry about the upset. You certainly got more than you bargained for. Wouldn’t blame you if you left.” He squeezed Ethan’s fist. “But I don’t want you to go, just so we’re clear.”
With a shaky exhalation, Ethan relaxed a few degrees, unclenching his hand and turning his palm up to thread his fingers with Clay’s. The wrapper was now wedged between their palms, and they laughed. Ethan tossed it on the table and held Clay’s hand.
“I don’t want to go, so I think we’re on the same page? I really like you a lot.”
Clay’s heart sang, and he tried to keep his cool. “Same here.”
“Last night was incredible. And I know your head must be spinning from all of this. Sam’s too.” He grimaced. “I know what it’s like to get a huge shock that changes your life. I’m sure you weren’t ready to talk about all this with your daughter so soon.”
Clay smiled ruefully. “Wasn’t on the agenda, no.” He pondered the expression of pain that had just crossed Ethan’s face like a clap of thunder and took a guess what it was about. “What happened with your fiancé? If you don’t mind me asking.”
The pained look returned, and Ethan shifted on the couch, the tension zapping back through him. But he still held Clay’s hand. Even if it was a bit too tight, he hadn’t let go. Clay said, “Mate, we can leave it off. I’m sorry.”
“No. I should talk about it. I think I need to, if that makes any sense.” He rolled his shoulders, still sitting upright on the edge of the couch. He looked toward the window, but his gaze was distant, like he was seeing something else entirely. “The short version is that the day before Michael and I were supposed to get married, I walked in on him fucking Todd, my best friend.”
Clay sucked in a breath, fury quick on the heels of his horror. Oh, to get in a room alone with those two arseholes. He’d pack a wallop. “I’m sorry.” Ethan wasn’t looking at him, but it seemed like he’d heard in the silence of the room.
Adam’s apple bobbing, Ethan nodded. “Yeah. It was the worst, basically. I guess the long version’s pretty much the same. I just couldn’t believe my eyes, you know? I didn’t see it coming. I probably should have, but I didn’t. I ignored the clues, and all the signs that things with Michael weren’t right. I was in complete denial.”
“Oi.” Clay squeezed Ethan’s fingers. “It’s not your fault. They were the cheaters.”
Ethan gave him a watery smile. “Yeah.” He stared back to the window, and Clay glanced over. There was a fluffy white cloud in a blue sky visible. Below the window, Gilly had fallen asleep, curled peacefully. Clay waited in the quiet for Ethan to go on.
“When I met Michael in college, he was really exciting. Even though he was from Buffalo like me, he seemed…sophisticated. So cool. And even though we didn’t have a ton in common, we had enough. I mean, it was college. We didn’t even know who we were yet, and we really liked each other. We were attracted to each other. The sex was great. We had a lot of fun. I mean, it was really, really hard losing my parents and my grandmother when I was a teenager. But I was getting through it. The grief was still there—still is, but it…evolves. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah. Life has to go on.”
“Right. So I was focusing on school and Michael and living life. Partying. I think part of it was trying to deny my grief. I threw myself into fun with this almost sort of…aggression.”
“Makes sense.”
“I didn’t want to be the sad orphan, you know? Then this happened.” Ethan motioned to one of his hearing aids. “And I changed. On top of losing my parents it was too much. It’s like, you take some hits and you manage to stay on your feet, but then another punch comes, and bam. I really had to deal with my grief. For my family, and for my old life.”
In the silence, Clay said clearly, “That’s understandable. Not your fault.”
Ethan sighed, squeezing Clay’s fingers. “I know. But I did change. And Michael didn’t leave me. He and Todd were so supportive. After I lost my hearing and I was so depressed, they were determined to bring me out of it. And maybe that was more for them than for me. Because they wanted the old, fun Ethan back.” He sighed again. “That’s probably not fair. Michael really did stick by me for a long time when I was miserable.”
“That’s what someone who loves you is supposed to do. Sticks around through thick and thin.”
Ethan squinted at him. “Through what?”
“Thick and thin.”
“Oh, right. And I think that’s how this happened. Michael and Todd sincerely wanted to help me. And they got in so deep. We all moved to the city, and before I lost my hearing I probably would have loved it too. But it’s so crowded and loud, and honestly? I hate it. The traffic and honking and construction. Those noises are amplified in my hearing aids and it’s constantly painful. And I know other places can be noisy too.” He shrugged. “It’s just never felt like home. But I couldn’t expect them to stay in Buffalo. That wouldn’t have been fair to them. So I went, and that was my choice.”
Their clasped hands were sweaty now, but Clay didn’t lessen his grip a millimeter. He waited.
Ethan said, “So there we were in New York, and Michael and I lucked into this apartment in Brooklyn, and he and Todd thrived. They made new friends, and they loved going out to bars and clubs. Those places are just full of frustration for me now. And it took me a long time to get a job. I was still so depressed. My inheritance went to paying my student loans, so I had no money for therapy or meds. And I didn’t want to talk to a shrink. I just wanted to hole up and play video games and not face the world. I didn’t want to have sex. I didn’t want to party. More and more, it was Michael and Todd who had things in common.”
“Still, that doesn’t give them the right to—” Clay broke off before he said it.
“No. And I’m angry, don’t get me wrong.” Ethan’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m really fucking angry. But the thing is, Michael and I should have broken up a long time ago. We trapped ourselves. He didn’t feel like he could leave me when I was so down. But I think he started to resent me. And I was the only person who could get me out of my depression. I just had to work through it. I had to wallow in my grief and anger until I’d had enough. Then I could start to accept that I’ll never hear the way I used to, and my life has changed permanently.”
Ethan swiped at his eyes with his free hand and laughed softly. “It’s weird saying this all out loud. I guess it’s been simmering and now it might as well boil over.”
“It’s the day for that,” Clay agreed, giving him a smile. Seeing Ethan cry was like blows to his kidneys. He ached, wanting to haul Ethan into his arms and kiss the tears away. But he reckoned Ethan still had a few things to say.
Ethan smiled. “I guess it is. Anyway, when I finally came out of that fog I’d been in for years, Michael and I were in too deep. And I think I knew that our relationship didn’t work anymore, but I told myself he’d been so loyal. I thought we could fix it. I threw myself into being the best boyfriend. I did all the things he wanted to do even if I hated them. I tried not to argue with him about anything, even when he was being a dick. Jesus, then I asked him to marry me.” He shook his head. “I really was delusional. I’d always wanted to get married, and I told myself Michael was obviously the one after all we’d been through together. It was like… I didn’t even think about the possibility of anyone else out there being a much better fit.”
Clay laughed ruefully. “Sounds familiar.”
Ethan looked at him. He smiled faintly. “I guess so. I hadn’t thought about the parallel.”
“We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?” And a voice in his head answered, we are. Excitement and affection surged through him even as another voice warned that he and Ethan barely knew each other. And that Clay had to sort out who he was. But as Ethan’s cheeks dimpled, his brown eyes warm as he smiled, it was tough to listen.
Clay blurted, “Why were you so keen on getting hitched? Doesn’t seem like most people your age are nowadays. At least not my kids. Pete’s busy breaking hearts around the world, and Sam’s in no rush.”
The thought of Pete brought another stab of fear between his ribs. They’d always butted heads a bit, but didn’t most fathers and sons? Pete had been Barb’s pet, and Sam had been Clay’s. But of course he and Barb loved them both something fierce. Pete and Sam were their kids. Of course they loved them. It would surely be a shock to Pete, but he’d come round in the end. He always did. And Barb…
Clay shoved the thought in a box and threw away the key for the time being. He couldn’t worry about that, not when Ethan’s eyes were wet again.
Ethan’s cheeks puffed as he blew out a noisy breath. “So, when I came out to my mom, I was thirteen. I had a crush on this guy on my soccer team. Tanner. He was the goalie, and he was so hot. And he had a birthday party and didn’t invite me. Which was fine—we’d barely even spoken aside from saying ‘good game’ and high-fiving. He went to a different school, and he only invited a few guys from the team. But fuck, I was devastated. It was ridiculous. And I was bawling my eyes out, and my mom had this way of getting stuff out of me. You know how moms are.”
Clay smiled. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, I finally blurted out that I was in love with him.” He laughed and rolled his eyes. “So dramatic. But I was heartbroken. And my mom just hugged me and let me cry for a long time. And then she told me about how she’d been in love with a boy named John. How she’d wanted to marry him so badly, but he wouldn’t commit. They were still young, but I guess it was typical in Switzerland to get married fairly young. Small town.”
Ethan was quiet a few moments, his gaze distant again, his sweaty fingers clutching Clay’s. Finally, Ethan said, “Mom told me she was wrong, and that John wasn’t good enough for her. That she’d finally met the boy of her dreams in Buffalo, New York, when a young man stopped to help push her car out of a snowbank. Dad carried cat litter and a shovel in his trunk in the winter.” At Clay’s clear bafflement, Ethan added, “To sprinkle on the snow so the tires can grip. The point was that Dad was always prepared, and Mom realized responsibility was the sexiest thing in the world.” He smiled softly to himself. “That’s what she always said.”
“Good to be prepared,” Clay agreed, hoping Ethan found it sexy too.
“So, Mom told me that one day she knew I’d marry the boy of my dreams, and that it would be beautiful, and she’d be so proud. That I was beautiful just the way I was, and she and Dad and Oma and the whole family loved me.” He chuckled. “I guess they’d already suspected, and I’d thought it was such a massive secret. That maybe they’d hate me. I should have known not to be afraid to tell them. They were nothing but loving.”
Clay flinched, and the fist inside him tightened, his insides squeezing like sausages between its merciless fingers. And bloody hell, why was he thinking about Tony Taylor in the driveway and his crooked smile and grease-black hands as he waved to Clay going by?
“Hey,” Ethan said, leaning closer and ducking his head to meet Clay’s gaze. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Ethan held Clay’s palm and scooted closer, reaching up and smoothing his free hand over Clay’s head, sending a trickle of warmth through him.
“It’s that damn Macca’s!” Clay forced his lungs to exhale. “Sam’s right. Shouldn’t eat that garbage.” He was able to smile genuinely, focusing on Ethan and forgetting the past. “But I’m all right. Just had a funny turn.”
“Are you sure?” Ethan frowned.
“Absolutely. You were telling me about your mum and dad. They sound lovely.”
“They were. I’m really lucky I had them.”
“And that’s why you were so keen on getting married? Because of what your mum said that day?”
Ethan huffed out a laugh, his free hand sliding down to Clay’s neck, his fingers drawing soothing patterns. “Stupid, right? I mean, it hadn’t even been this big thing. It wasn’t like she went on and on about my future wedding. But I always remembered it. How accepting she’d been. And I told myself I’d marry the boy of my dreams and make her proud even if she wasn’t here to see it. I convinced myself marrying Michael would fix everything. And he was already fucking Todd when I asked, and he felt too guilty to say no to me—but not guilty enough to come clean. I guess they kept telling themselves they’d do it, but there was never a good time.”
“Well, there isn’t bound to be, is there? You’ve just got to man up and do it!” Clay had never clapped eyes on this Michael and Todd, but he hated them. “Cowards is what they are. You deserve better.”
“You know what?” Ethan nodded. “I think I do. And if they’re happy together partying and being polyamorous, they can go to town.”
“Poly what?”
“Polyamorous. Where there’s multiple people in a relationship. Or someone has more than one separate relationship. Like, after I walked in on them? Michael said he loved both of us, and he wanted to be with me and be with Todd.”
Clay couldn’t believe his ears. “He expected you to agree to that? So he could have his cake and eat it too? Crikey.”
“For some people it works great. If everyone’s consenting, I have no problem with it, but everyone has to be on board from the start. That’s a pretty key factor.”
“I reckon so, mate.”
Ethan laughed, dragging his hand down to Clay’s chest and scraping his nails through the hair poking out of Clay’s singlet. He let go of Clay’s hand, but Clay didn’t have time to protest since Ethan was scooting closer, tucking his feet under him and running his damp palm up Clay’s arm.
Ethan said, “Thank you for listening. It was good to say that all out loud. I feel like you really hear me. Not just literally, but… You know what I mean?”
Clay knew exactly that he meant, and he nodded, very aware of Ethan’s hands touching him, not forceful or with intent, but just there and solid.
Ethan looked down and swallowed hard before meeting Clay’s gaze. “Do you still want to do this? Us?” He huffed out a laugh and quickly added, “Not that there’s really an us yet, and I know this is all new and confusing.” He lifted his hands and motioned back toward the front door with one. “And crazy stressful with Sam coming home. So if you want to press pause, I totally get it. I don’t want to pressure you. I can get a hotel.”
What Clay wanted was Ethan’s hands back on him. Grounding him. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.” It occurred to him with a nasty jolt that Ethan would be going back to the other side of the world in less than a week’s time.
He took hold of Ethan’s shoulders. “I want you here with me. Teaching me new words. Amongst other things. You’ve got your work cut out for you. You know what they say about old dogs and new tricks.”
A grin brightened Ethan’s face, and it was like the roof was gone and the sun was beaming straight down. “You’re not that old, and I’ll teach you everything I’ve got.”
Then he kissed Clay soundly, and Clay’s hands came up to frame his face, breathing him in. They tasted like fried brekkie and bitter coffee, and it was marvelous. Ethan pushed his tongue into Clay’s mouth, gasping, and Clay hauled him over his lap so Ethan’s legs straddled his, knees tucked beside Clay’s hips.
The need to touch sparked in Clay like wildfire in the brush, sweeping over the red dirt. They rubbed against each other, getting hard through their clothes. He loved the feel of Ethan in his arms, safe on his lap and far away from the cowards who’d hurt him.
He knew there were other things he needed to sort, like talking more to Sam and figuring out what was going on inside him, but in that moment all Clay wanted was to hold onto Ethan and make him sigh and moan, dry his tears completely, and make him feel good the way he deserved. Everything else could wait, couldn’t it?
They broke apart to gasp for breath, Ethan’s jeans undone now and Clay’s shorts tugged as low as he could get them without dislodging Ethan. Ethan’s pale face was reddened again, and Clay lightly caressed along his chin.
“Going to give you more pash rash.”
Ethan drew his eyebrows close. “Did you say ‘pash rash’?” Then he laughed delightedly, his cheeks dimpling and making Clay’s heart squeeze. “Does pashing mean kissing?” At Clay’s nod, he added, “Then you sure are.” He waggled his brows. “And I love it. Amongst other things. This is on the list too.” He rolled his hips, and they both groaned.
Then he caught Clay’s lips with his, and they kissed and kissed, and Clay loved so many things about Ethan and how he made him feel that he didn’t have a clue where to start counting.
