Sex was always an experiment, and we kept surprising each other and ourselves. But the more we hooked up, the more we found our favorite grooves. Jet loved rubbing our full bodies together, legs and torsos and arms all sweaty, and I was just beginning to explore the mind-rending pleasure of having my prostate rubbed.
Still, we never made plans outside of his apartment. Neither of us ever suggested a date, dinner or a movie or anything like that. There were plenty of reasons why that should be the case, but as the days passed and I grew to care for Jet more deeply, I realized that I wanted more.
I was falling for him.
I was falling for a man who spent most of his life allergic to monogamy and relationships. And even if I were going to entertain some fantasy where Jet changed, there was still the problem of Noah. We could try coming to him and asking for his blessing, and the three of us had managed to hang out comfortably together a few times.
But why would Jet want to do any of that? I’d be asking him to change who he was and risk his new connection with his brother, all for a committed relationship he probably didn’t even want with me.
We finally broke out of the hookup bubble when Jet texted me one Saturday, asking if I could help him out. He’d been trying to figure out a birthday gift for Noah and, with the deadline approaching, finally caved and admitted he was lost. I agreed to meet him in a little shopping district, not far from his place, and help pick something up.
It was a gorgeous summer day, not a cloud in the sky. I found Jet on a street corner, designer sunglasses popped on and his hair swooped back. He was dressed casually in a pair of tight jogging pants and a tank, a couple of drinks in his hands, and when he spotted me, he smirked a cocky grin my way.
“Hey, sexy,” he told me, then handed off an iced coffee in a clear plastic cup. “Thanks for coming.”
I grinned. After all this time, it still felt special when Jet complimented me like that. “Thanks for the coffee,” I said, then took a sip. “We haven’t been out in daylight together,” I teased him. “Are we going to be mobbed by your many fans?”
“Probably not, but I won’t make any promises,” he deadpanned.
I glanced down the street, which was filled with small shops and little restaurants. There was a decent flow of foot traffic and a person playing guitar and singing down the street from us. It struck me that this was my first time out in public where someone might see me as a gay man, but instead of being frightened by that, I just felt grateful that it was Jet there with me.
“Should we just wander? See what we find?”
Jet extended his hand. “Lead the way.”
“We could try an antique store,” I told him. “And I think you said there’s some kind of science gift place around here? That has potential.”
He sipped from his coffee. “Did you buy him something?”
“A steak dinner,” I answered. “Every year.”
“That’s easy,” Jet grumbled.
“Gifts are hard for anyone, long-lost relative or not.”
We paused at the corner, waiting for the light while the guitarist softly strummed her instrument. Casually, Jet tossed a couple dollars into her hat from his wallet while he talked. “At least his expectations for me are low.”
Not thinking about it, I slid my hand around his elbow. We’d been touching each other casually like that at home, and so the gesture came naturally. “His expectations might be low, but I’m glad he’s warming up to you,” I said.
“Yeah,” Jet acknowledged. “Me, too. How’s your brother, by the way?”
“Russell? He’s great. Oh!” I laughed as we started walking again, my hand still on Jet’s arm. “I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you. I came out to Blake and Casey. It was easy, of course. They were great.”
“Cool. You decided not to move slow after all?”
“I was worried Russell would explode if he couldn’t tell them.”
Jet laughed. “I can imagine.” He paused, then slid his hand down to hold mine. “What about here?”
I glanced at the store we stood in front of. There were headless mannequins in the window, dressed in jockstraps, and club music playing inside. “Excuse me, what?”
“Not for Noah,” Jet laughed. “God. A detour. For us.”
“Excuse me?” I asked again, my eyes stuck on the jockstraps in the window.
“Well, you’re coming out of the closet more, right?” He licked the back of his teeth, flashing his tongue stud at me. “Might as well enjoy your new freedom.”
“By buying a jockstrap?”
