A Knight To Remember - 5. Counterplay

I CAN’T FIND MY KEYS!

I was ready for the party tonight. I had taken a nice - and thorough - shower. I made sure my hair looked good and everything. I was wearing my nice Vans, a green shirt that matched my eyes, and slim-fit khakis.

Those khakis were my secret weapon.

You see, Beyonce-booties run in my family. When I was a kid my grandma used to say that you could have a tea party on my butt. My cousins, my uncles, every guy on my mom’s side has a really round butt… So, let’s just say these khakis accentuate that feature. I was planning on - you know - like, waving my ass in his face relatively subtly and checking his reaction… Maybe pretend to drop something and then do a little bend-and-snap - but like a manly version of that, if possible…

I’m just gonna play that part by ear.

I wanted to look just good enough to catch Ollie’s eye - if he’s gay, that is - but not so good that I stood out at the party.

But my keys were nowhere to be found! And I was running late!

For Christ sake. This has happened 10,000 times and I STILL haven’t learned how to put them in the same place every day!

I lose everything!

I know how to achieve world peace…

Give ME the nuclear launch codes… Then tell me ‘Whatever you do, DON’T lose these codes’.

They’d be gone within an hour! Never to be seen again!

I just solved world peace!

Clothes were flying in all directions. My sheets had been stripped off the bed. I was looking everywhere. I was furious. My room looked like Hurricane Wilma had stopped by for a visit.

“GOODNESS GRACIOUS!” My mom shouted from the doorway.

“MOM! NOT. NOW. I don’t need you chirping in my ear! I’m running late!”

With a huff she turned and stormed off. Thank God.

I knew I’d pay for that little outburst. My mom is pretty much the most sensitive person on earth. She can hardly function if she thinks I’m mad at her. If I pull a face she starts tearing up. It’s just how she is. I knew I’d have to apologize later for snapping, but right now really wasn’t the time!

Fifteen minutes later I found my keys in my pajama pants… I must have gone to my car to get something last night. I wasn’t surprised they were there. I’m never surprised. I wouldn’t be surprised if I shat them out one day. Those keys have a mind of their own.

***

I was zooming down the interstate.

I took the toll-road… That’s when you know your ass is late as hell. I didn’t care if it cost me, I had to get there. He lived further towards the Hills than I did, further out west. Austin, in a lot of places, greatly resembles San Diego, with its big rolling hills and houses perched on top of them. Those houses are for rich bastards only, and while my parents made good money, they surely didn’t make enough to have a house too far out west. That’s the super posh part of town.

I arrived at the address I was given. The house was two-stories, with a kind of peach-colored brick. It was quite nice. Not as fancy as I was expecting, which relieved me. Hanging out in a really expensive house is not relaxing at all… I feel like I have to watch every little thing I do. At least this place looked like a real home.

I thought about pulling up to the driveway, but there were three cars already piled into it, so I just parked on the street.

My heart was racing. I kept taking deep breaths and trying to steady it, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know any of these people. All my friends have been around my whole life, so I’m not exactly a social butterfly, especially in unfamiliar situations. Also, I was 35 minutes late, which made me even more uncomfortable… Like, they probably had already established the ‘vibe’ of the evening, and here I was waltzing in there and messing it up. What a great way to start off some new friendships!

I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell.

I heard someone jogging towards the door. It swung open.

There he was. He had on a tie-dye t-shirt, board-shorts and no shoes. He was wearing black ankle-length socks.

I took a moment to admire his beautiful legs. His chocolate-brown leg hair. Fuck me! I then took a quick peek at his socked feet.

And, for the very first time in my life, I wanted to do things with another persons feet.

Unspeakable things.

Things I would never admit to another living soul. I would have recoiled at even the mention of the things I was thinking about doing.

Feet didn’t necessarily gross me out all that much, but I definitely didn’t find them arousing… Well, I hadn’t before now.

Fucking hell… I just want to…

DON’T YOU SAY IT!

I wonder what they sm….

SHUT UP!

Nothing about Oliver turned me off… Nothing. The fact that his feet were covered in socks tormented me… I just wanted to rip those socks off and… like… investigate… things…

“I was getting worried, man! Did you get lost?” Oliver asked, with a concerned look on his face.

“I couldn’t find my keys. Sorry about that.” I responded.

“No worries. Come on in…” I walked through the door and started wiping off my shoes on the mat, Ollie continued, “My mom’s a stickler about shoes in the house, so just leave yours here, k?”

“Sure thing.” I responded.

I took off my shoes, hoping that my feet didn’t stink… I always wore fresh socks, so I was pretty sure it would be fine.

I followed him through a rather long hallway and into what looked like the living room, where I saw two guys sitting and watching ESPN.

“Guys, I want you to meet Ian.” Oliver said.

They both turned to look at me, then got up off the couch.

“Ian, this is Connor.”

Connor looked almost like a freshman. He was maybe 5’2” and probably weighed not much more than a hundred pounds. He had short blonde hair and blue eyes.

I was then introduced to a guy named Tony. He was about my height and was African-American. I liked him almost instantly.

After our brief introduction another guy walked into the kitchen. And my breath hitched. His resemblance to Ollie was striking. There was no doubt in my mind that they were related. He looked to be around 21 or so.

He. Was. Delicious.

And he had a look on his face that intimidated me.

“Ian, this is my brother, Oscar.” Ollie said.

I walked up to him and held out my hand, and with a smile said, “Nice to meet you, dude.”

His face was searching. He was sizing me up, which took me by surprise. He didn’t smile at me or anything! He just held out his hand and gave me a WAY too firm handshake.

“I haven’t seen you before. How did you two meet?” Oscar said. His voice was steady, controlled. Knowing.

“I uh, well I met Oliver at a party and we started talking about chess and whatnot. I also play, so we kinda hit it off that way.” I responded.

“I see.” He said. His tone, flat.

My smile was gone. He was being so standoffish. He then turned and walked towards the fridge, and started rifling through it.

Damn, that was awkward. I wonder if he’s like that with all of Ollie’s friends. What a douche. A hot douche. But a douche nonetheless.

We made our way to the dining room where Oliver had setup two tournament sized chess sets side by side. He also had a couple game clocks already set up.

I got paired with Connor, since he was rated 1000. I was rated around 885 at that point, so that match up made sense. Tony was rated 1875, so he was a better match against Oliver.

We played lots of 5-minute games, or what they called ‘Game 5’s’. I noticed very quickly how different ‘blitz chess’ is to the chess I’d been playing online. I was used to having a lot more time to make decisions, and my results that night highlighted that.

In blitz chess, everything is based on intuition. There is very little time to actually consider moves. You just have to go with your gut instinct. And I didn’t have much of a gut instinct at that point. But damn was it an adrenalin rush!

Tony didn’t help matters either. He was too damn hilarious.

After about 5 games with Connor, I decided to just watch Ollie and Tony play.

Tony was the king of trash talking. I never knew chess players talked trash! It felt like a neighborhood basketball game.

As I watched the game, Oliver was the aggressor. He was clearly the better player, but I could tell by his smile that he was enjoying playing with Tony as much as we were enjoying watching.

During one game, Tony sacrificed a bishop for two pawns. The idea being that he could open up a lot of space on the right side of the board. This enabled him to start pushing a pawn towards Ollie’s back rank.

Although pawns are generally the weakest pieces on the board, there is one particular situation where they become absolutely deadly. When a pawn makes it all the way to the opponent’s side of the board, it can transform. It can be exchanged into any other piece, including a queen! So it’s possible for one player to have two queens playing in the game, if they manage to promote a pawn.

Tony was two moves away from being able to promote his pawn.

I was on the edge of my seat as I watched Ollie calculate a way to prevent Tony from accomplishing this. If Tony managed to do it, the game would be over.

I was fascinated with the way Oliver played blitz. He was so much quicker than anything I could have imagined. During the first 10 moves of the game he had used only 5 seconds on the clock! 10 moves in 5 seconds! It was incredible.

“Uh oh! Watch that pawn Oliver! Watch that pawn! It’s bout to get a sex-change!”

We all laughed.

Ollie smiled and, a few moves later, had blocked the pawn advance, and captured one of Tony’s pawns.

“Man, I didn’t even want that pawn! That pawn was just in my way. Consider that a gift!”

We laughed again.

Tony did manage to draw a couple games. And against Ollie that’s quite an accomplishment.

During their last game I accidentally glanced at Ollie’s groin area.

It was totally not my fault!

What I noticed there prevented me from focusing on ANYTHING else. His shorts had ridden up on his legs, and the sight before me was nothing short of spellbinding.

I could see his two beautiful balls straddling the seam of his shorts. I could see them resting on each side of it. And since the guys were all focused on the game, it meant I could stare at those beautiful ping-pong sized balls - unencumbered.

I was practically drooling at the sight of them. I was lost in that beautiful view.

As I was taking in every detail, imagining what they would look like without that cloth barrier, I noticed something moving in my peripheral vision. I looked up briefly, and saw Oscar perched at the entrance of the dining room, looking directly at me.

Oh God… Oh shit… I hope he didn’t see what I was looking at…

His face was stone. I averted my eyes quickly from his and pretended to go back to watching the game. It felt like Oscar was keeping an eye on me for some reason. He wasn’t watching the other two boys nearly as close as he was watching me.

I just pretended not to notice, and eventually Oscar got bored and left the room.

After that game finished, Connor, Tony, and I went into the living room to watch some TV while Oliver ordered us some pizzas.

***

The pizza finally arrived. We’d ordered one medium cheese and one medium supreme.

I was starved.

We took the pizzas into the kitchen, and opened the boxes. Oliver grabbed four plates and we started piling food on them. Connor and Tony took their plates over to the kitchen table; it was circular, and had four chairs spaced evenly around it. I followed them, took a seat, and began to eat. A minute or two later, Oliver took the seat directly to my right, and started to chow down.

We were talking and laughing about this and that. I was happily inhaling my pizza.

Everything felt totally normal.

I was just sitting there minding my own business…

I swear!

I was being totally innocent!

I wasn’t fantasizing about Oliver. I wasn’t imagining him repeatedly shoving his beautiful, hard cock into my mouth. I wasn’t imagining smelling his musk. I wasn’t imagining what his seed would taste like splashing across my tongue as I heard him scream my name, crying out in pleasure. Me lapping up his warm cum like a calf his mothers milk.

Nothing like that.

I was being a good boy.

So there I was, just eating my food and enjoying the conversation.

I had a huge bite of pizza in my mouth when I felt something come resting down on top of my right foot.

I didn’t know what it was at first. But very soon I realized what it was.

Oliver’s left foot was resting on my right foot!

Right under the table!

I knew it had to be a mistake.

But he just left it there! I could feel his toes wiggling a little bit on top of mine!

INSTANT. BONER.

Holy fuck… Is he… Flirting with me? It isn’t possible. This can’t be happening! I don’t fucking believe it.

Hallelujah!

I didn’t move a muscle. I hardly breathed at all. I was afraid that any movement I made would startle him, causing him to move his foot.

My heart was pounding. It was like a 16” subwoofer in my chest. My smile was dopey as fuck. I was cross-eyed. The room was blurry. I couldn’t hear any of the conversation anymore. All I knew was that this beautiful boy had his foot resting on mine. That my dream boy was probably flirting with me! My smile was uncontainable.

I very cautiously looked over at him, using just my eyes. He was acting totally normal, laughing and talking along with the other two. He hadn’t looked at me since he put his foot on mine. I kept checking. I wanted to make eye contact. I wanted to convey to him just how fine I was with his behavior.

But he wouldn’t look at me!

His foot was still resting on mine when I heard Tony shout, “Ian! What do you think?”

“Huh?” I replied.

“Bro, you’re so spaced right now.” Connor interjected, and then laughed.

“Huh?” I replied again.

Oliver was just eating his pizza, looking right at his plate, and nothing else.

Ollie you little bastard! You’re torturing me!

“We were SAYING that it would be fun to watch Tropic Thunder tonight. You down?” Connor asked.

“Uh… Yeah… I’m down… I’m down with… Anything… Totally cool all of it… We can do whatever you want… I’m so… down…” I was in a haze. A love cloud.

Tony and Conner burst out laughing. Probably thinking I was stoned off my ass. And they would have been right. I WAS high. I was high on Oliver.

He STILL wasn’t looking at me.

It was driving me crazy!

I wanted to just grab his face and shove my tongue in his mouth. I wanted to taste every single part of him. If those two mules hadn’t been there I probably would have!

I came to and looked over at Connor. He was looking at me like I was an alien or something. I should have felt embarrassed. But I didn’t give a shit… Ollie’s foot was resting on mine! I couldn’t give a fuck how stupid I looked. I really couldn’t.

After about two minutes, Oscar walked into the room, and Ollie moved his foot off of mine with a quickness I didn’t know possible… And that’s when I knew.

I knew.

If he didn’t think placing his foot on mine was flirting, then why did he remove it when his brother came into the room? If it was just a friend thing, then it would stand to reason that he would have left it there. There wouldn’t have been anything to hide, right? He was flirting with me. I knew it for sure in that moment. No doubt in my mind.

Oscar had been acting strange the whole evening. Popping out of one doorway or another. I didn’t know if he thought we were doing drugs or what. He was acting suspicious as fuck.

We finished eating the pizza, and headed off to the basement, to what Ollie called the ‘game room’… Boy, was it fantastic. It had three couches that formed a C-shape, surrounding a big-screen TV. In between the couches were two HUGE bean bags that looked super comfy. I hoped I would be spending a lot of time in there with Oliver in the foreseeable future. Especially on those bean bags.

I walked behind everyone else. I wanted to make sure Ollie and I were sitting next to each other. I was getting hard again just thinking about it.

I still hadn’t fully processed what had happened under the table. It had taken me by such surprise that, despite knowing that he was flirting, I still couldn’t BELIEVE that that’s what he was doing. I was still trying to convince myself that it was some sort of joke. Maybe he was playing chicken or something. There was a battle in my head. My cynical side wasn’t going to give up that easily.

I only wished that I had worn shorts tonight, so that I could have felt Ollie’s beautiful, soft, chocolate-brown leg hair brushing up against mine.

I’m a total slut for hairy legs. Especially his.

Connor and Tony decided to take the two huge bean bags in front of the TV, which meant that Ollie and I could take the middle couch, and - most importantly - they wouldn’t be able to see us once the lights were out, unless they turned around completely.

It was perfect.

I was shaking.

I wanted those two gone.

They were nice. They were cool. But right now they were cock-blocking the shit out of me. I wanted them GONE!

DO YOU HEAR ME?

GONE!

I sat down smack dab in the middle of the couch, while Ollie setup the movie. My leg was bouncing up and down. I just wanted him to get on with it!

For Christ’s sake! Hurry the fuck up already!

As soon as Ollie turned out the lights, my heart started pounding like a college drum-line. I watched as his shadow approached the couch. He then plopped down on my right side. Connor and Tony were already situated, so they weren’t paying any attention to us.

As soon as he sat down, I felt his left leg push up against my right leg, and his left shoulder press against my right. We were essentially glued together. My whole right side was against his whole left side.

I felt like a lithium ion battery. The whole right side of my body felt like it was charging, like I was absorbing his energy, his essence, into myself. It was LITERALLY electrifying!

As I was sitting there, so close to him, the worst thing imaginable happened. I felt a mammoth fart coming on. I couldn’t believe this was happening. My bowels had ALL DAY to do this, and yet they chose now!?

My asshole was clinched tighter than an industrial vice.

I was like Gandalf during The Fellowship of the Ring. You know, that part with the giant demon.

YOU….. SHALL NOT…………….. PASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

***

I decided - very early on - that Tropic Thunder is probably the funniest movie of all time. We were all laughing our asses off.

During the movie Ollie did the cutest thing ever… Every time we started laughing at something, he always looked at me. If I laughed at anything, no matter how stupid it was, I could see his smiling face turned my way - watching me.

It made my heart sing!

I felt bubbly. I had never felt bubbly in my entire life. I finally knew what people meant when they used that word. I was cackling at stuff I normally wouldn’t even think is funny… I was so happy… Everything was hilarious to me.

For the first time since I met Oliver, I didn’t analyze anything. I didn’t try to figure him out. I just enjoyed his presence. Enjoyed the feeling of his beautiful body pressed against mine. His smell. His smile. Seeing him in my periphery. Hearing his adorable, high-pitched laugh. Feeling his body shake every time he giggled. I was in heaven.

I was the happiest I’d ever been.

Or so I thought.

Around halfway through the movie something miraculous happened.

Connor’s mom called him. She was furious with him for some reason, and had demanded that he return home immediately.

But he hadn’t driven himself… Tony had to take him home!

I was going to get to watch the second half of the movie with Ollie…

Alone!

My smile was like a boner at that point. I had no control over it. As Connor and Tony said their goodbyes, I was just sitting there with the biggest smile in history plastered across my face.

We were already sitting super close to each other. As close as we could be without sitting on top of each other. HE had done that. HE sat down that close to me. And HE had put his foot on mine earlier that evening.

Now it was MY turn to do something.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to sooooooooo bad… But I was too chicken. So, I went with the next best thing.

My right hand was resting on my right thigh. His left hand was resting on his left thigh.

I knew what I had to do.

I was going to hold Ollie’s hand during the movie!

There was no-one around. It was dark.

It was perfect.

Slowly, I extended my pinky, and moved my hand closer and closer towards his. His hand was in a loose fist, palm-side down.

I was sweating now. I was so fucking nervous. I was summoning every ounce of courage I had.

I wouldn’t have been so nervous had Ollie mentioned ANYTHING about his behavior. Had we actually discussed what his behavior meant, I would have been fine. Since we hadn’t, there was still a tiny bit of doubt.

To hell with it.

Grow a pair.

Be a man.

My hand got closer to his, as I slowly looped my pinky in his.

Using my pinky, I kind of pulled his hand towards mine in an attempt to open his hand up and get mine underneath it.

But he wasn’t taking the hint. He wasn’t opening his fucking hand!

So, I just went for it, and slipped my hand palm-side up under his, intertwining my fingers in his.

Oh my God! I’m holding his hand!

My cock was rock-fucking-hard. Throbbing. Just the buildup to holding his hand had worked me into a frenzy.

I did it! I can’t believe it!

It felt like there was a torrential rain storm inside my chest. I was bursting. It was the most special moment of my life.

I thought this was it. I thought that this was the moment I’d been waiting for. Surely he would kiss me now. Surely he would confess his love for me. It was what our last few interactions had been building up to. Him touching me in the coffee shop… Him resting his foot on mine under the table… The sitting really close. All of it…

But that isn’t what happened.

Instead, he slowly pulled his hand away from me. His face blank. His eyes still on the TV.

It felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart.

I wasn’t disappointed. I was fucking devastated.

After I’d put all my cards on the table, after I’d finally worked up the courage to show him that I liked him, he’d pulled away from me.

I looked over towards him, trying to understand what had just happened. As I turned my head, he leaned forward on the couch, stood up, and walked out of the room, leaving me sitting there. In the dark.

I felt a cloud engulf me the second he left. A cloud of numbness. By the time the door to the basement closed, I felt absolutely nothing at all. No sadness. No sorrow. No grief. No regret. No joy. No excitement. Nothing.

Just. Nothing.

I imagined that this is what an insect must feel like. No wants. No desires. No dreams. No hopes. No fears. No worries. No happiness.

Nothing at all.

I was just existing. That was it.

For those few moments I was devoid of all humanity. I was outside my body. I couldn’t reconcile what the fuck had just happened. What had I done wrong? Was he just playing with me? Was he lying to himself? Was he unable to admit that he liked me? What in the living fuck was going on?

I knew I should get up and leave. I knew I had just embarrassed the shit out of myself. But nothing felt important… Not anymore.

Nothing at all.

I didn’t give a shit where I was. Ollie’s house could have gone up in flames and I would have still been sitting there asking myself what the fuck had just happened. Asking myself how he could have done that to me.

A couple minutes later, I heard the door to the basement open.

I knew what he was there to tell me. I knew he wanted me to leave. But I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to tell me - to my face - to get the fuck out of his house. He should at least be forced to do that much. I was NOT going to run the fuck out of there with my tail between my legs. I was NOT hallucinating. I was NOT crazy. He WAS flirting with me the whole night.

It was A-Okay when he initiated it, but when I initiated a little hand-holding that crossed some sort of imaginary line?

I hadn’t tricked myself into thinking he was flirting with me. I was seeing clear as day. I had never seen ANYTHING so clearly.

HE was the delusional one.

Not me.

I expected him to turn on the lights. But he didn’t. He slowly walked around the couch. I could tell he was holding something, but I couldn’t make out what.

He sat down next to me.

I braced myself.

This was it.

I knew that this was possibly the last time I’d ever hear his voice.

He then turned his head to me and said, “Dude, try this salsa.”

Excuse me?

You want me to…

TRY…

THE FUCKING…

SALSA???????????

This was supposed to be the part where he told me to go fuck myself!

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or enraged. I just sat there with my mouth on the floor.

I didn’t know what any of this meant. I was dumbfounded. Speechless. He should be screaming at me right now. He should be accusing me of trying to rape him or something! That’s what ‘straight’ guys do. Especially guys our age. Why was he acting like it was no big deal? He didn’t seem fazed by any of it.

I thought he was hard to read before tonight… Now he was the goddamn Enigma Machine…

Maybe he’s not ready.

I mulled that thought over, as Ollie sat next to me laughing at the movie like nothing had happened. And, of course, Robert Downey Junior’s character made me laugh without my consent.

Despite how funny the movie was, I was still a bit pouty, and was having trouble focusing on the story at all. I couldn’t decide if I should bring up what has been going on between us. I was thinking… Trying to decide what I should say. Ollie noticed this, and - on more than one occasion - playfully nudged me with his shoulder, smiling at me. Trying to get me out of my own head.

I had never been more confused.

I didn’t know what to feel. I felt sorrow that he didn’t want to hold my hand. I felt elation that he wasn’t upset with me. But why wasn’t he upset?

For Christ sake!

***

After the movie, I gathered up my phone and wallet, and walked through the door, out to the driveway with Oliver trailing right behind me. I was surprised that I didn’t feel embarrassed. I didn’t regret anything that had happened.

Holding hands seemed like the most innocuous thing in the world to me. But maybe Ollie didn’t know where I would have stopped? I couldn’t be sure. But I knew he felt something for me. Something more than friendship.

I wanted so badly to talk to him about what was going on. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I didn’t know if I should apologize for trying to hold his hand during the movie or not. Part of me thought that I should, but I had a gut feeling that this subject was very much off-limits.

If he had wanted to talk about the hand-holding incident, then he wouldn’t have come up with the salsa thing. I doubted he’d actually wanted any salsa. It seemed more like he was trying to diffuse the situation, and show me that he wasn’t mad, without having to actually address what had happened.

We approached my car. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Um… Well, I had fun tonight, dude.” I said, in a somewhat subdued voice.

“Me too, man!” He responded with a big smile.

I just looked at him.

I couldn’t - for the life of me - figure him out. Part of me wanted to scream, to shout at him, telling him that he liked me - at least on some level. But I was too afraid of losing him. It wouldn’t be right to make him feel bad just because he wasn’t as ready as I was.

I had told myself, early on, that if he only wanted to be friends, then I would live with it. Now I had the opportunity to practice what I preached.

Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted?

I knew what I wanted. I wouldn’t deny him anything. If he had asked to fuck me tonight I would have said yes. I wouldn’t have batted an eye at that question.

I’m not sure I would have even liked getting fucked. I always thought of myself as the ‘fucker’ not the ‘fuckee’, but I would have done it for him. So, if he wanted to slow down, or to process everything first, then I would grin and bear.

Ollie isn’t stupid. He’s brilliant. His chess ability attests to that fact. He knew why I did what I did. I was starting to think he was much better at reading ME than I was at reading HIM. His smile just now, and his enthusiasm after the whole hand-holding incident, proved it. He was being extra cheerful. Careful, even. It seemed like he was trying extra hard to make sure that I didn’t think he was mad.

“I want to see you this weekend.” I said.

Those words flew out of my mouth without my permission. They were spoken long before I’d had a chance to process them. It was like my subconscious decided that I needed to say them.

I wanted to take it back. But, before I could, he responded, “Yeah, me too.”

He was looking at the ground, clearly uncomfortable. What I didn’t understand is why he was so uncomfortable.

I was getting more confident now.

“What about Sunday?” I said.

“Sure.” He was still looking down, kicking pebbles beneath his feet.

I couldn’t leave without touching him. It would have hurt too much. So, casting caution to the wind, I said what was on my mind.

“I want a hug… A long one.” I said.

I wasn’t sure what had come over me. I didn’t know where this confidence was coming from.

I had no idea what his response would be. But part of me needed to see what he would do. I needed to know whether I was wasting my time or not. I wanted him to demonstrate some level of affection for me right then.

If he didn’t want to tell me what he was thinking, then he would have to show me.

He looked up from the ground and into my eyes. I could see the uncertainty. I could see the confusion. I could see the hesitation. He then looked back towards his house, seemingly checking to see if Oscar or anyone else was looking out a window.

My heart was beating out of my chest.

It was now or never.

He looked back towards me, and slowly started to move in my direction. I opened my arms and he stepped in them.

I almost burst into tears the second I felt his arms around me. It felt so good to be that close to him. I couldn’t imagine ever letting him go.

Having him in my arms was making me delirious. I was losing my resolve to hold back.

After a few seconds, I could no longer control myself. I slowly turned my face into his neck. Smelling his skin. Smelling his hair.

That set me off like a firecracker.

He was breathing more heavily now. I could feel him trembling in my arms as I nuzzled his neck with my nose. I was trembling along with him.

I was losing control.

I couldn’t stop myself from kissing his neck. My lips just barely touching him. It was like an electric shock. I wasn’t prepared for the passion that that erupted out of me the second my lips touched his velvet-soft skin. Powerless to stop myself, I started kissing my way up to his ear. Kissing the side of his cheek. My kisses getting more and more fervent. My desire for him becoming more animalistic, more primal.

He was letting me do it. So I kept doing it.

I was moaning quietly. Whimpering. I couldn’t control that either.

His breathing was getting more labored. He was pushing the side of his face towards my lips.

I was lost in him.

I started kissing, little by little, towards his mouth.

As I got closer to his lips, he started to pull away from me.

It was worth a try, I thought. And I’d keep trying, goddamnit. I’d try till my last fucking breath.

Holding him in my arms, feeling him that close to me, that’s when I knew.

I was in love with him.

There was no denying it. There was no lying to myself about it. I would wait for him as long as I had to. I would do anything to get him to love me just a tenth as much as I loved him.

I leaned back and looked into his eyes. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were glossy. His mouth slightly parted. His breath hitched. I wanted to push him further. I wanted to dive in and kiss him properly. I wanted to get on my knees and choke on his manhood. To bathe in the smell of him… But I had pushed him enough for one night. He knew what I wanted. He knew what I felt for him. And he was giving me at least something in return.

He was trying.

I knew in that moment that I had SOME sort of effect on him. I had power over him that he didn’t seem comfortable with… Yet.

I would give him time.

Maybe he would eventually deny my love. But I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I’d wait as long as I needed to. I wouldn’t give up. I’d show him just how much he matters to me.

We eventually broke the embrace.

He smiled and said, “So, I guess I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Yeah. Sunday.” I said, entranced by him. The smell of his skin had put a fervor in my loins beyond anything I thought possible. I wanted him more than I wanted life itself.

I was rock hard, and I made no effort to hide it. It was too dark to see if he had the same problem.

Two strokes and I would have shot off like the Apollo space shuttle.

There was nothing else to say. I was terrified that if I put him on the spot - if I forced him to tell me exactly what he thought about everything - that I wouldn’t like his answer. I decided, in that moment, to just keep ‘showing’ him how I felt, instead of ‘telling’ him. For the time being, at least. I knew - instinctively - that he didn’t want to talk about any of this, yet. So I would go along with it, for now.

I will show him just how much he means to me. Show him he needs ME too. Show him that no-one could ever love him as much as I do.

I will wait for you my sweet Ollie.

You’re worth it.

You’re so fucking worth it.