Brought by the storm, p.6
Brought by the Storm, page 6
The three looked to me, awaiting my response. My face flushed and there was a lump in my throat. “Um, sure. That would be okay.”
Chapter Nine
Carrington
Eric’s friend, Mateo, had just arrived with food in what he called a ‘cooler.’ He and Eric were unloading and trying to find space in Eric’s already overfilled refrigerator. Unlike Eric, Mateo was a man I would have guessed to be gay. He was flirty and made big gestures as he spoke. I was certain Stefan would take an immediate dislike to him. Instead, Mateo had made Stefan chuckle a few times whilst they bantered in the kitchen. Sometimes Mateo would put his hand on Stefan’s arm whilst emphasizing a point, and Stefan didn’t appear inclined to rebuff him. I found it odd that he seemed to trust Mateo more than Eric, as the former struck me as someone who’d be inclined to gossip. I hoped Eric and Stefan remained vigilant about what they shared.
Once the kitchen was in order, I was shocked to hear Stefan offer to help Eric and Mateo with the clean-up outdoors. It made me feel guilty enough to volunteer as well, but Stefan insisted I stay inside to keep my mother company. Of course, his real motive was to ensure I was safe behind the walls of Eric’s home…and I would be away from my newfound crush.
When they opened the patio doors to venture outside, a whoosh of heavy, damp air sucked in. I couldn’t imagine that it was healthy for the three of them, fit as they might be, to be working in those conditions. I sat on a chair that faced the French doors to the patio, watching them picking up branches, cutting larger limbs and trying to buttress the now sagging fence. Before long, a sweating Stefan and Mateo removed their shirts and tucked them in their waistbands. I had been feeling a heightened awareness of male sensuality since meeting Eric, and observed the naked torsos in a way I would never have imagined just a few days earlier—wondering if they would arouse me. Though I could appreciate that both men were in amazing shape, their pumped-up chests and bulging arms weren’t enticing. I just couldn’t imagine wanting to be held by them, and their faces—though striking—were too hard and masculine for kissing.
Eric continued working at a punishing pace, sopping wet in his white Henley shirt. His shyness allowed him to undo no more than a couple of buttons which bared a small part of his smooth, tanned chest. His rolled-up sleeves revealed hairless, toned and bronzed forearms. The cotton fabric clung to him and had become translucent, making him seem sexier than if the shirt had been removed. His carved pecs and nipples were thwarting the shirt’s attempts at modesty. Eric had on a pair of tight work jeans that hugged his ass and thighs, and I couldn’t help but marvel at his form. He had some meat in the seat, as they say—two perfect globes defying the laws of gravity. Watching his lithe body move was making me excited. I forgot my mother was nearby until she made her presence known.
“Stefan seems to be getting on better with them,” she commented, approaching the back of my chair.
I pushed forward into a more upright position, hoping it would position my misbehaving member into a less obvious state. I was glad she was behind the chair as opposed to facing me. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, it seems he’s less concerned now about Eric’s friend than he was before meeting him.”
“Maybe it’s all the attention Eric’s friend is giving him. I think he’s smitten.”
I turned to her in surprise. “Who? Eric’s friend or Stefan?”
My mother smiled. “Indeed.”
I didn’t want to betray Stefan’s secret. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m sure Stefan is just being polite.”
“Is he? I haven’t noticed him go out of his way to be polite to others in the past. In fact, I would say he’s been somewhat rude to Eric, wouldn’t you?”
I was becoming anxious. If my mother suspected Stefan was gay, was she going to wonder what that meant for me—his longtime friend? “I think he just didn’t know if he could trust Eric.”
My mother sat in the chair next to mine, still looking out at the three working men. “But he can already trust Mateo?”
Now I was becoming agitated by her line of questioning that felt like she was saying something without saying it. “What are you suggesting, Mother?”
She pursed her lips and sat silent for a moment. “Do you not know? I find it hard to believe you’ve been mates since childhood, but you weren’t aware that Stefan likes men?”
I was shocked. “Pardon? How do you know this? I just found out last night!”
Now it was her turn to look surprised. “Oh. I’m glad I never said anything. It was his truth to tell you.”
“But, how did you know? He’s dated girls for as long as I’ve known him.”
My mother looked at me now with sad eyes. “My dear boy, you really have been oblivious, haven’t you? I used to wonder if there was a mean streak in you, that you let him pine for you and you played daft. Or maybe it was just you loving the attention. But I saw the hurt in his eyes when you would talk about a girl you were dating or when you’d mock him in jest. I used to wish, for his sake, he’d meet someone and fall in love so he could forget about you.”
“Forget about me?” I whispered. “No. Close friends don’t forget about each other. But he did tell me last night that he fell out of love with me. I suppose anyone gives up after years of disappointment.” I sighed. “So, you’re okay with Stefan being homosexual?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not my life to live nor mine to judge.”
“That sounds more like tolerating someone rather than embracing them,” I mumbled.
“I have mixed feelings when it comes to Stefan. I have affection for him because he loves you and keeps you safe. I also worried because he was in love with you. Unrequited romantic love can lead to unhappy outcomes—for both parties. I didn’t want to see him pained, but I was more afraid that he could hurt you. In general, though, I’ve never cared about whether someone is gay. You know your uncle, my brother Charles, is gay. We were always close and I couldn’t understand why people felt it was their prerogative to tell him whom he could love. People claim it’s about the Bible, but I think it’s just an excuse to hate others who aren’t like you. Most of those people disobey many other passages of the Bible and think nothing of it. I guess that’s why I never go to church—even if our country’s people want to condemn me for that. Their hypocrisy angers me, but more than that, it bores me. Maybe it’s my Scandinavian blood.”
“But Father went to church. He opposed gay marriage,” I reminded her.
“In public, yes. When he was president, there wasn’t majority support for same-sex marriage. In private, he thought the opposition was absurd and primitive. I refused to compromise my principles that way. As I said, hypocrisy bores me.”
We paused and I thought about her comments regarding my uncle. “Mother, I remember when you were close to Uncle Charles. Why haven’t you been these last few years?”
Her eyes welled a bit. “We had a falling out. He was angry that I didn’t speak out for gay rights as First Lady, and he resented your father for coddling the far-right. I tried to explain that Yastarus is always one step away from realigning to Russia, that we had to choose our battles and try to unify the conservatives and the progressives. Charles believed that blood should have trumped my nationalist sentiments—that fundamental human rights should have been my priority. I never spoke out against gays, as you may recall. But he’s right—I didn’t advocate for them either. Now that a small majority of our people support same-sex marriage, it may seem to you like our inaction was cowardice. But back then, it could have been a cultural wedge the far-right used to tip us back to a federal semi-presidential republic, which is just a political label for a dictatorship. I didn’t see how that was a long-term win for anyone’s rights—including Charles’.”
“But I’m on record as supporting same-sex marriage, and you were quoted as supporting my advocacy. Why hasn’t that mended fences between you and Uncle Charles?”
My mother frowned and looked at her clasped hands. “I hurt him. The same way I thought you, and your role in the government and in our family, might wound Stefan one day. I thought he could turn his back on you. When your father was president, Charles used his position with a prominent paper to write harsh editorials about him and me—letting everyone know that we supported gays but didn’t have the courage to do so in public. Of course, he was correct, but your father denied it, which just made the gulf between Charles and us wider. Both sides forgot that we once cared for each other, and I don’t know if there’s any coming back from that.”
I nodded because I wasn’t sure she was wrong. “I didn’t know that was happening. I shied away from Father’s presidency and the associated media. I never thought I’d one day take up the baton, and I never thought I’d discover my best friend is gay. At least with Stefan, we sustained our bond. Now, I can support him in whatever he chooses.”
She nodded and smiled a bit. “That shouldn’t be difficult in today’s more open-minded society. He’s not a public figure, and people will understand your loyalty to a longtime friend. Eric, though, might be a harder pill for people to swallow.”
“I beg your pardon, Mother? What about Eric?”
She turned to face me. “You are doing a marvelous job of fooling yourself about the men around you. Maybe it’s being your mother, but I’ve never had a problem reading you. I knew before you did which girls you liked, and I’ve never seen you quite as undone as you seem to be around this young man.”
“Mother…”
She cut me off. “Carrington, if you want to lie to me, then you can tell me as the president of our country that you deny my allegations and order me never to speak of them again. But as my son, don’t lie to me. And for heaven’s sake, don’t lie to yourself.”
I looked down at my lap, as if some magic words might be written there. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m confused. I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
She let out a loud exhale. “Darling, as I said, I haven’t seen you act this way around anyone before—man or woman. The way you were with him last night whilst preparing the meal, and all through dinner—it was like you had a warm light around you. I’ve never seen you so enthralled and eager to impress. If he was just another in a line of interests, I would tell you to put the country first and forget about him, you’ll meet a nice girl one day and all that rubbish. After all, you’re already facing a credible death threat from far-right extremists, and falling for a man would make things more precarious.”
I studied her pained expression. “I feel there’s a but in there…”
She looked as though she might cry, something I hadn’t seen her do since my father had died. “But you’re my child. You may be the most powerful man in our country, but you’ll always be my boy. And a mother’s greatest wish is to see her child happy. I can’t tell you what will bring you contentment. But I’ll support you, whatever it is.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if it’s this. We don’t know each other that well, do we? I can’t stop thinking about him, though. It’s like this man is becoming all-consuming and I hate him for it.”
She laughed. “My dear, I know you don’t hate him. And from what I’ve seen from him, he likes you, too. Have you noticed the adorable way he looks at you? Those blushing cheeks and that cute way he gulps when he’s in your presence. I just want to squeeze him!”
I looked at her in shock, causing her to chuckle. I then snickered in return. “Well, join the club. At least the people of Yastarus won’t turn on you for doing it.”
She paused for a moment. “Carrington, I think you’re too confused to leave things unresolved. You’ll always wonder. I’m not saying he’s your true love. You may find you don’t even like being physical with a man. You never have been, have you?”
This wasn’t the conversation I wanted with my mother. “Good Lord! Mother, please. No, I haven’t, but I don’t wish to speak with you about sexual relations.”
She nodded, sparing me additional misery. “I understand, but you need to talk to him or seek advice from Stefan. Figure out what you want. I’m sure Stefan will be discreet about you and Eric if you want to see where this takes you. Eric could come to Yastarus to visit. What you do or don’t do with him in private will be your business. But you could see if your heart wants him.”
“And if it does? What then? I’m the president,” I mumbled.
“For another two years,” she reminded me. “You didn’t want to be president. You did it for your father’s memory. Don’t run for re-election, regardless of what happens with Eric. Follow your bliss, Carrington.”
We sat silent for a while, and I felt appreciation for having a mother who was willing to risk our family reputation for my happiness. “I know I said I didn’t want to discuss sexual relations, but if I ended up with him, then it would be sexual. Would you be able to look at me and him and still love me, knowing…that?”
She put a hand to the side of my face. “I would love you no matter what. And mothers don’t think about their kids having sexual relations, regardless of their orientation. It’s one of those things our brains are programmed to block, just as yours no doubt blocked you from thinking about me and your father.”
“Yuck,” I whispered, which elicited a laugh from her.
“You see. Programmed. That’s why tonight, I will be sound asleep when you’re in bed with him. Fancy little maneuver on your part to make that happen, I might add.”
“Excuse me? I didn’t do that to have sex with that man. I’m not ready for that,” I exclaimed, though the thought had crossed my mind once Eric had agreed to the arrangement.
“Very well,” she conceded. “But if and when you are, be careful. I hope you’ll be safe.”
“Mother, I’m thirty-six years old,” I complained, knowing I was blushing.
She rose from the chair and put a hand on my shoulder. “I meant protect your heart…and his. I’m guessing he’s a bit of a novice in this department as well. He strikes me as too shy to be a Romeo. Be kind to each other, whatever happens, and you’ll end in a good place.”
Just when I thought she had ended the conversation with sweet words, she had to ruin it. Walking away, she added, “Maybe take some water out to the boys. I know you’ve been straining to get a better look at your soaking wet man.”
I put my head in my hands and moaned, which was followed by her laughing as she exited the room.
* * * *
After realizing how creepy I was being watching the three men sweating, even to the point of being mocked by my mother, I decided to make myself useful and move my personal belongings to Eric’s bedroom. It occurred to me that, unlike the guest room, his room wouldn’t have a bureau of empty drawers awaiting the belongings of visitors. Leaving a pile of clothes on his bed seemed rude and intrusive, so I opened a few drawers to see if any had capacity. After opening one that was filled to the brim with socks, I tried the one below. It was full of undershirts and underwear. Now I felt like a pervert because I found myself checking out the type of undergarments he wore. It seemed he had a penchant for black trunks, though there were a couple of briefs and some traditional boxers as well. Picturing him wearing them was beginning to turn me on, so I slammed the drawer shut to turn off my mental movie projector and respect his privacy. Perhaps checking one more drawer would reap results and, if not, I would give up and ask him later where I could store my belongings.
Upon opening the third drawer, I gasped to see sex toys—a plug, a vibrator and a large flesh-colored dildo. By its side was a half-full bottle of lubricant. I closed the drawer as if it had burned my hand. I turned to make sure nobody had seen me invading his space, feeling more guilty than embarrassed. I chastised myself for not having thought about how there might have been personal items that were not my right to see.
I dropped my clothes on the end of his bed and sat on a nearby chair. The toys made it clear there was one thing he liked, and it forced me to think about whether it was something I could consider. As I thought about his bottom, I was becoming aroused once more, this time imagining what it would be like to enter him. I knew I was well endowed, and my first reaction was that I would hurt this smaller man, but the dildo wasn’t petite. I had never dared to ask a female companion for anal sex, and it had never been offered to me. It was easy to understand why. One thing felt too big for the other to be pleasurable. Still, the mental projector re-started of its own volition, and I could see Eric, naked on his back, knees pulled up and waiting for me to penetrate him.
I bolted from the chair and took deep breaths to calm myself. Staying in his room would just invite the images to return, so I headed down to the kitchen to retrieve the water bottles as my mother had suggested earlier. If I wasn’t helping with the outdoor efforts, the least I could do was replenish the men who were.
Once outside, bottles in hand, I marveled at how they had continued their tasks in the blazing heat. The dew point had to be comparable to what I had experienced when visiting southern American states, something I found oppressive.
Stefan saw me approaching first. “You read my mind. I was just about to ask Eric if we could take a break and get ourselves something to drink.”
Eric looked up with surprise, then embarrassment. “Oh. Guys, I’m sorry. I just got caught up with what I was doing. You don’t even have to be helping me. Stop whenever you like, and help yourself to whatever I have when you want it.”
Then he stopped talking and was staring at me with an unexpressed question. That might have been because I was gawking at him, his face wet and every muscle of his torso visible through the pointless garment he once called a shirt. “Um, I brought you water.”
