There I sat, on the airplane, flying home. For the first time in six years I was back. God! I'd missed this place. The flight from London was long and boring and I was too excited to sleep. Of course, I was still on London time, eight hours difference was going to be tough to get used to. I couldn't wait to see Jessica. We met in high school, she a lowly sophomore, and me the big senior on campus. But we were both misfits and we clicked. Despite the age difference and all the other quirks, we became best of friends. She was the first person I told that I was gay. She just looked at me, said 'duh' and that was the end of it.
When the plane touched down, I was almost too giddy to stay in my seat. I still had customs to go through. I made it through in no time. Twenty-four and I was on top of the world. I had gone to college in London and then got a job with a telecommunications company. When an opening became available in Seattle, I jumped at it. I was home. As I got off the train, near baggage claim, there was Jessica, jumping up and down and throwing herself into my arms. I almost fell over. She was a little dynamo, almost a foot shorter then my six-four. Standing beside her was her boyfriend of four years and another guy. I had no clue who he was, that was until she introduced me. His name was Tom. So this was the Tom I'd heard so much about.
Tom stood at five-eleven. He was perhaps thirty or forty pounds overweight, but still had a great look about him. He wore a v-neck shirt and he had a nice sprouting of hair showing. His hair was like spun honey. He had blue eyes and was just about the cutest person I'd ever seen. I fell instantly in lust with him. When he shook my hand, I actually felt the jolt to my toes. This was interesting to say the least.
We grabbed my bags and headed out. The four of us crawled into Jessica's little car, Tom and I sitting in the back, squeezed in. My frame was hurting, even behind Jessica's scooted up seat. Her boyfriend Mike was almost as tall as I was, so Tom was definitely squished. But we made the best of it. I was going to stay at Jessica's until I found an apartment.
We stopped off for dinner at my favorite hang out. Basically, if the beatniks were in Seattle during the grunge period, this would have been their hangout. The place was smoke filled and served the best damn greasy food on earth. It wasn't until I'd taken my first bite that I knew I was really home. Mike and Jessica got into a fight halfway through dinner and took it outside. I think more to make out after than to spare the other patrons from their argument. I took the opportunity to talk to Tom.
"What do you do Tom?"
He was sitting across from me and gave me his smile. It was open and honest and I got a sappy grin of my own just looking at him. "I'm taking a few classes and working part time at a video store."
I chuckled. "It's better than my part time job while I was going to school." At his quizzical look, I added, "I worked in an adult bookstore."
He started laughing. "I bet you have some tales."
I wondered if he could handle that it was a gay bookstore. No time like the present. "Yeah, there were more guys fucking in the back then most night clubs I think."
He raised his eyebrows at that. I felt a moment of panic, that perhaps I'd overstepped my bounds here. "You probably heard quite a bit, if not saw it outright." He winked at me. "Pick up any pointers?"
I relaxed. Gay or not, at least he wasn't uncomfortable about it. "Only when Larry the Moaner came in. He usually got applause."
We both laughed heartily at that. Jessica and Mike came back, hand in hand. Mike had always been the romantic in the relationship. The man would hold Jessica's chair. He'd show up after work with a bunch of flowers just because he could. They fought a lot, what couple doesn't, but there was so much love in his eyes whenever he looked at her. More than once I'd been jealous of Jessica. Not that I wanted Mike for my own, but I was so damn jealous that she had someone who doted on her. He did. He worshipped the ground she walked on. The man was probably the most patient person on earth to put up with Jessica, but to look at him; you just knew he was gone for her.
They sat down, both of them with silly, stupid grins on their face. I'm sure they often picked a fight just to have an excuse to do the whole make-up make-out session. Jessica sat down beside me in the booth and leaned in and whispered in my ear. "So, what do you think of Tom?" I grinned at her and she nodded. Shortly after we finished eating then left. As we dropped Tom off, he promised to show me around, run me to a few places, as I got ready to start my new job. I really appreciated it.
Monday hit and Tom was right on time. We headed out to look for apartments. It was easy. I found the one I wanted first try: two bedrooms, large living room, with a nice fireplace and balcony. It was a bit pricey, but I didn't care. I took Tom out to lunch and learned more about him. He was turning twenty-one in a few weeks. I told him that he had to have a party. He demurred. His parents were both alcoholics, so he didn't even want to contemplate drinking. I admired his courage, but I told him you don't have to drink to party.
The next day, Tom took me around to car dealers. I ended up buying a Ford pickup. The way things were coming together; I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Little did I know it would happen about two months later.
Tom and I had been spending a lot of time together. We had similar senses of humor. We got along great and it made me feel good to be around him. We'd go catch a movie on his off night. He helped me move in my stuff and even arranged my furniture. It got to the point where he even started sleeping over at my place because he hated the flophouse he lived in. I liked making dinner for him. I liked having him there. I was falling and falling fast.
Tom was a hard man to figure out though. He was probably the most hands-on person I'd ever met. He was always touching me. He'd hug me. He'd rub my shoulders. He was constantly touching me. He'd sit by me in the movies and sling his arm behind me. It wasn't touching me, but it was familiar. Well, no one really touched me unless it was at a club or a female coworker. Jessica and Mike were both really demonstrative, but they were like family. I hardly knew Tom. It sent so many confusing signals. It was like he was flirting with me, telling me it was okay to touch him.
But the strange thing was that, except for my returning his hugs, he'd get uncomfortable if I touched him in any other way. I went to brush a stray hair off his shoulder and he'd pull back. Yet he'd do the same for me. His words said back off, his touching said to go for it, and it all confused me. Any other guy I'd have either known to make a move and kiss him or been punched in the face for being forward. His attitude was like he was telling me to back off, but not go too far away. By the tenth night he'd slept on my couch, I was a walking ball of lust, confusion, and affection. I really cared for the guy. He made me feel special and needed.
I can cook; really cook. I never got any formal training, but I could make some people weep over some of my dishes. Tom kept going back for seconds or thirds of whatever I made and actually moaned a couple of times when he'd eat my cooking. Probably the most frustrating part about being Tom's friend was that he hardly ever talked. Oh, he'd speak and hold a conversation. But he wouldn't talk about anything personal. Many times I'd ask him if he was okay. I'd get a nod. It was frustrating to say the least. If he'd just talked to me, I'd have known where I stood. But he wasn't one for talking.
I got up early one morning to find Tom sleeping on my couch, his blanket down around his ankles, wearing nothing but a light blue pair of briefs. I must have stood and stared for a good ten minutes, watching him twitch in his sleep. All I saw was his cotton-covered ass and I was hard. I needed to get laid. This was ridiculous. But I didn't want to not be with him. I needed answers.
