As I assumed would happen, Henry tried a bite and declared it wasn’ttoo bad.In fact, it was sookaythat he scarfed down his portion before Billy and I were even half finished.
Dinner was delicious, but I barely tasted it. My senses were heightened; the clink of cutlery, the savory aroma of the food, and the warm texture of the fabric under my fingers as I wiped my hands. Every bite settled like lead in my gut. Eventually, I neatly folded my napkin over my lap, waiting while Billy finished his dinner.
I couldn’t help but glance at Billy as he ate. His strong hands, the way his jaw moved when he chewed, and his rich laughter as he recounted a funny story to Henry – everything about him was intoxicating.
After dinner, Henry and I played a game while Billy washed the dishes. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, moving around the kitchen with grace and control. He’d rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms, and my breath caught in my throat. I longed to feel his touch again, to feel his strength surround me. It seemed unfathomable that I hadn’t noticed sooner how attractive he was.
As Henry’s bedtime approached, my anticipation for our talk reached its peak. I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. I checked the time on my phone about every two minutes, counting down until it was time to go upstairs. And every time the daddy guilt crept in, I reminded myself I was still my own person with needs I’d neglected for years.
Finally, a gentle melody played from my phone, telling Henry it was time to get ready for bed. “Give Uncle Billy hugs and thank him for playing with you again today.”
“Thank you, Uncle Billy.” Henry squealed as Billy scooped him up and tossed him into the air, grunting as he caught him. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to stop rough-housing like that because Henry would be big enough to injure Billy.
I watched as the two of them shared secrets and rubbed their noses together. Billy set Henry back on the ground with a gentle pat on the backside.
We brushed our teeth together, Henry glancing at me out of the corner of his eye to be sure I was doing it right. Or so he told me one night when I asked why he always watched me brushing my teeth. As I tucked him into bed, the galaxy of stars projected on his ceiling seemed to mock the tumult in my own universe.
While I was usually completely present during storytime, tonight my mind wandered as I thought about what was going to happen. Tonight’s story was about a grandpa and his little one baking cookies together. I adored that Henry never thought to ask why the child was never referred to as a girl or a boy.
All the while, I was acutely aware of Billy downstairs, waiting. I heard the soft melody of a song as Billy cleaned. His deep voice wafted up the stairs, and I remembered how good it felt to have him insist on helping me out, even if I protested. The dominance he exhibited wasn't aggressive or imposing-it was comforting, almost caring.
As if he knew I wanted him to roll over and go to sleep, Henry begged me for a second book. It had been a while since he’d been this cuddly, and there was no way I’d ever deny him in favor of my own desires, so I told him toquicklypick another story.
My thoughts were a whirlwind swirling around Billy and the conversation we were about to have as I read about brave knights and mighty dragons to Henry. Henry’s steady breathing as he began to drift off was a contrast to the fluttering pulse in my own chest.
Once I was sure Henry was out for the night, I kissed the top of his head, tucked the blankets around him, and quietly made my way out of his room and down the stairs. The house was immaculate; the toys were neatly put away, the dishes washed and dried. The dim lights cast a warm, golden glow on the living room.
Billy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his silhouette like a statue against the soft light. His gaze was intense, unwavering, and I felt myself being drawn to him.
He gestured for me to sit on the couch and took a seat opposite me. The silence was electric.
“Michael,” Billy began, his voice deep and steady, “about the other night…”
I exhaled, not realizing I had been holding my breath. The room felt too small, and yet not close enough.
“I crossed a line,” I said quickly, needing him to realize no matter what he had to say, I realized my mistake. “If I wasn’t so drained, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“And that’s part of the problem.” His voice took on this rich, smoky timbre that reminded me of good whiskey. “If I didn’t step in, you would have run yourself straight into the ground. There has to be a happy medium. And I’m sorry for bossing you around, but dammit, Michael, someone’s got to.”
“I liked that you did,” I muttered, low enough I wasn’t sure he heard me.
A shiver raced through my body when Billy’s hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. God, this was so much harder than I’d expected it to be. “What did you say?”
When my gaze met his, Billy’s eyes burned. His pupils were dilated to the point I could barely see the brown and gold flecks of his irises. He groaned, his eyes tracking mine as I licked my lower lip, suddenly feeling parched. He was really going to make me say it louder.
Billy's gaze softened. “We need to figure out what this is. But whatever it is, it needs honesty and trust. Can you give me that, Michael? No matter what?”
I nodded. The idea of trusting Billy, of allowing him to guide my exploration of these desires, was both terrifying and like coming home.
Billy moved closer. His proximity was magnetic. Our knees touched, and the contact felt like a current flowing between us.
“We take this as slow as you need,” he whispered, as his hand gently brushed against mine. “But don’t deny yourself. If you need something, tell me.”
“But your family…”
“They’re not here right now and I’m a big boy.” I held my breath as he leaned closer, wondering if this was the moment he’d press his lips to mine. “Whatever excuses are running through your head, I’ve heard them all in my own. But I have to believe people would want us to be happy.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but there was no time for me to protest. Billy’s strong, callused hand cupped the back of my neck, and he pulled me up close until our noses were nearly touching. His eyes bored into mine, his breath dancing across my skin as we hovered suspended in time. Then, he leaned in, pressing his firm lips on mine gently yet ferociously. Our mouths moved in perfect harmony — a passionate dance fueled by years of repressed emotions finally being released. Heat spread throughout my body as I let out a soft moan of delight.
