Promises

said, “No. I would rather be here.” God, that was good to hear, but I tried to keep my tone casual.

“You think if you hang out with the gay guy long enough, they’ll finally start to leave you alone?”

“That would certainly be an added bonus.” His eyes were closed now, his breathing starting to slow.

“It doesn’t seem to be working so far.”

“Jared, shut up and order a pizza.”

When the pizza arrived, I brought out a couple of beers and flipped on the TV. He was still quiet and strangely pensive. I checked the on-screen TV Guide. “We gotta sit through the last forty minutes of The Breakfast Club, but then Wrath of Khan starts.”

“Whatever.”

I wasn’t sure how to handle this side of him. Usually he was so solid, but tonight it felt like he was lost. Like he was waiting for somebody to lead him home. He had hardly eaten any pizza although he was on his third beer.

“Are you working tomorrow?” I asked.

“Day off.”

“Let’s go for a ride. We haven’t been up in a couple of weeks.”

He brightened up a little. “Sure. I could use the exercise.”

He was slouched down, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted back, and his arms were stretched out along the back of the couch so that one hand was resting behind my head. Half the time his eyes were closed, and I thought he was drifting in and out of sleep. We sat in silence for a while, and then he said suddenly, “I hate this movie.”

“Because it’s sentimental crap or because nothing gets blown up?” It was supposed to be a joke, but I don’t think he even heard me.

“None of them even know who they are. They’re just acting out their roles. Being what their parents made them. Always trying to be what’s expected. It’s exhausting.”

Somehow I didn’t think he was only talking about the movie.

“I think I envy you,” he said. “You don’t ever get tired, do you? You don’t care what they expect.”

“Whose expectations are you worried about, Matt?”

“Nobody’s. Everybody’s. Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I’m so tired.” His eyes were closed again. “Don’t listen to me.”

I was pretty sure he had fallen asleep. I sat there, feet up on the coffee table, staring at the movie without seeing it, wondering what had happened to put him in this mood. Then I felt a small tug on the back of my head. Then another. I realized it was his hand. He was feeling my hair, gently pulling on my curls.

“Did something happen today, Matt?” He was watching his own fingers as they played in my hair, but I don’t think he was really seeing them. It was possible he hadn’t quite realized he was doing it. It felt nice, and I stayed perfectly still. I was afraid if I moved an inch, he would stop. “Is there something going on at work?”

The tug on my hair stopped. His jaw clenched, and I knew I had hit on something.

“No.”

“I know you’re lying.”

There was no answer for a minute, but then that gentle pull on my hair started again.

“They’re having a picnic. You know, a department thing, everybody bringing their families.”

He stopped, but I knew there was more. “And you don’t have a family?”

“That’s not the problem.” He sighed and took a deep breath like he was going to tell me. Then he stopped short, shaking his head. “Never mind.” He stopped playing with my hair and looked back at the TV like the subject was closed.

“Then what is the problem?”

It took him a while to decide to answer, but he finally said in a quiet voice, “They asked me if I was going to bring a guest. And I mentioned you.”

I was shocked. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“No shit.”

“What did they say?”

“They told me ‘boyfriends’ aren’t allowed.” He sighed again. “I know you warned me. I know I should have seen it coming. But we’re friends, right?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “I’m not allowed to have a friend? And what if it was more?” I just about choked on my beer when he said that, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Why is it their business? They expect me to go sit at their fucking picnic—alone—and watch them with their happy fucking little families, and I’m supposed to pretend like the one person in this town I give a damn about doesn’t even exist?”

“Uh….” I couldn’t really think of anything to say to that. I couldn’t believe that he had said any of it and was pretty sure he wouldn’t have on any normal day. But it didn’t matter. He was still talking, and the pull on the back of my head had resumed.

“And then my parents called. Talk about great timing. My mom’s all in a lather because her sister has a billion grandkids and she has none. My dad was drunk, which is nothing new, and he’s talking about duty. I don’t know if he means being something more than a cop, or if he means getting married and settling down. Both, I guess. And all I can think about is how much I wish I had a brother or a sister, so they could shift some of their expectations to somebody other than me.” The gentle tug on the back of my head continued. “Everybody wants something, and everybody expects something. They never ask how I’m doing or if I’m happy. They don’t ask what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

His hand and head both fell back onto the back of the couch. His eyes were on the ceiling. “I wish I knew.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I turned back to the TV, and after a minute, the gentle tug on my curls resumed.

“Jared, what do you want?” His voice was quiet, and when I looked over, his grey eyes locked on mine. “Tell me what you’re expecting.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was he asking how I felt about him? I could tell him that I had no expectations, and that was certainly true. But as to what I wanted, that was simple. I wanted him. But I was pretty sure he already knew that, and I didn’t think verbalizing it would help anything. So instead I said, “I’m expecting to kick your ass on the trail tomorrow.”

And just barely, he smiled. “Then I better get some sleep.”

“Are you okay to drive home?”

“I’m not even gonna try.” And two minutes later, he was sound asleep.

BY THE time I got up, Matt had already showered, gone out for donuts, and made coffee. His strange mood seemed forgotten as he shoved me out the door.

We had a great ride. I had one spectacular crash on the way up, resulting in two skinned knees and an oozing abrasion that ran from my shoulder to my elbow. Before I could even get up, I heard what could only be described as maniacal laughter. The part of my brain that wasn’t thinking about how much pain I was in wondered who was laughing, because I had certainly never heard anything like that come out of Matt’s mouth. And then, before I knew what was happening, he jumped on me and pinned me to the ground. I’m close to six feet, but I’m not exactly a big guy. Matt outweighed me by twenty to thirty pounds, and he had no trouble holding me down.

“My God, you’re heavy! What the hell are you doing?”

His body was all muscle and sweat, and his eyes were flashing green as he laughed down at me. “Rubbing dirt on it!” And he proceeded to grab a handful of it and smear it all over my arm. It hurt like hell, but at the same time, it was strangely erotic, having him on top of me like that, and it left me feeling slightly aroused and incredibly off balance.

When we reached the top of the trail, we took off our helmets, dropped our bikes, and stood on the summit, looking down at the valley below us. The sun was golden, the sky brilliant blue. The light breeze was filled with the smell of the evergreens around us. The aspens were changing, making bright patches of amber, orange, and magenta within the green. It was a perfect moment, standing there next to him, covered in sweat and dirt and blood, seeing the glory of the Rocky Mountains around us.