(no subject)
Some Torrin!fic, idea that'd popped up in my head.
Title: Just Like You: Pink
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): het, some angst
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Zeke has a past, one that clashes with the present.
As much as they were married, neither Casey nor Zeke had the unhealthy view that they had to do everything together. Most nights were spent taking turns with Torrin-care, having dinner together and general 'life stuff' every family went through, good or bad. But when their four-year old would go to bed and they'd have some free-time, they weren't always in the mood to cuddle-up on the couch to watch a movie together, or sit around and talk. Both of them loved video games, but in different ways; Casey seemed to have been born with a PS3 controller in his hand, while Zeke had a thing for puzzles, word-games and cards. They'd retreat to the living room and Zeke would throw pogo.com on, while Casey went online to group-up with players all over the world to fight armies or... whatever.
It had its social aspects. Casey would pause his game to go over and help Zeke out with a particularly hard level, or Zeke would start laughing if a stupid argument struck up between Casey's teammates... or at times, Casey WITH his teammates. When Casey would get thirsty, he'd get Zeke a drink as well; if Zeke got peckish, he'd split a bowl of microwaved popcorn between them. Neither of them needed to make requests, and a sweet smile and “Thanks, babe,” would be given.
There were other times they'd be 'doing their thing' that didn't involve kicking around the house. Just last weekend, one of Casey's fellow professors had a birthday, and all the man wanted to do was go to his favorite classy wine bar in Mystic. “Wanna go? I'm sure we can get Claire to babysit,” Casey had said to Zeke, referring to the high school girl a few houses down who adored Torrin to pieces, and would always say, “yea, sure!” when they'd ask for her services, last minute or not.
But Zeke had shrugged and said his brain was only capable of binging on the game show channel. The guys Casey worked with were nice, but he wasn't about wine bars filled with live jazz music while the professors talked about stuff Zeke wasn't involved in. Selfish, perhaps; but generous, at the same time. Telling Casey, “Neh, go ahead-me and Tory will find something to do,” was the same as saying, “You have fun, because everyone's allowed to leave the house without their partner attached to them every now and again.”
The night after Casey's wine-filled adventure with the guys (their designated driver practically carrying him to the door at one-thirty) Zeke had felt restless and gone out to HIS favorite bar. 'The Tav' wasn't anything special, just a place within walking distance to play pool, throw a few bucks in the jukebox and share a few brews with strangers. He liked going alone, sometimes bringing a book with him. And that night, while leafing through 'A Twist of Lennon', Jo the bartender had arrived with a freshly-poured glass of Guinness. Zeke had frowned and said, “I didn't order...?”
Jo had grinned. “The pink cleavage-bomb at the end of the bar,” she'd said.
Looking over, Zeke found a wavy-blonde haired woman, perhaps only a few years younger than him, staring at him with a cotton-candy colored smile. Jo had walked off chuckling; apparently, she hadn't seen the need to tell the girl, “He's a happily married man to ANOTHER man.” He'd almost glared at the server for not having revealed that, but when he saw the woman get up and saunter over, he froze.
Simone, a recent graduate of Penn State, had “Just moved into town,” with a former dorm-roomie and had “a thing for tall, dark, handsome and a little geeky.” Any hopeless dork would jump at the chance; perky, beautiful breasts, slim waist with hips like handles and legs that looked best walking down a catwalk in Paris, instead of crossed over while sitting in a bar next to a very-married man. When she'd leaned in close and looked down at the book Zeke was reading, she pouted.
“Oh, no,” she lamented while pointing to his wedding ring.
“Yea...” Zeke had said, smirking as he turned it around and around with his thumb. Saying, 'And I'm gay, sorry,' would've cemented things, but he found that he suddenly... couldn't. Before he figured she'd say, 'Well, too bad for me then! Enjoy the drink, I guess...' and saunter off to find an unattached guy, she made a very signature, seductive smile.
“I guess the question is... does it matter?”
This, most certainly, elicited a quick reply. “Nice try,” Zeke had told her, winking then returning to his book. He chose not to be angry about it; it was simply the way things were, nowadays. But he wasn't 'the way things were'. He took their vows seriously, no questions or doubts involved. Simone had sighed, shrugged and slid out of her seat to return to the one she'd vacated.
At least it gave Zeke a story to tell once he got back. “Still got it,” he'd planned on saying, while Casey rolled his eyes and flipped him off. But after a round of pool with the last winner of the game before him, a soda and piss, Zeke had walked home, gone inside and found Casey on the couch watching TV.
“Hey... have fun?”
Zeke had opened his mouth to start bragging... “Yea, was okay,” seemed to be the only thing he could say, however. He'd slipped his jacket off and asked Casey if he'd join him in bed.
“In a bit, they're showing 'Terminator 2'. Haven't seen it in years,” Casey had replied.
So Zeke had given him a peck goodnight, gone upstairs, done his usual bedtime routine then went under the covers. He usually fell asleep within minutes of putting his head on the pillow, but his brain had kicked into high, buzzing gear-and the subject was a given. Simone, who didn't have a dick, had done something to him. He hadn't felt any kind of stirring toward a woman since he realized they actually didn't do anything for him, but... how he'd gone to sleep after wondering what her tits looked like was a wonder.
But it wasn't as if he'd enjoyed a restful night's sleep. Normally, his dreams were vague impressions that he'd barely remember when he'd wake up. The ones he'd be able to recall were pleasant, usually involving husband and son... but not on this night. On this night, visions of the blonde-haired girl looking down on him as she rode him filled his mind, his hands grabbing at perfect breasts as she moaned. Worst of all, it'd been in his living room, and according to Simone, Casey had just pulled into the driveway.
“I locked the door, it's okay,” Dream-Zeke had told her before the real Zeke had woken up in a cold sweat, panting and panicked. Before he could worry over Casey walking in and finding him and Simone, he snapped his head to the left and found Casey on the other side of their bed, snoring away. His next look had been to the clock on the bedside table; 3:55 AM. He'd only had a little under five hours of sleep, but he was wide awake-no chance of sleeping-in on a lazy Sunday. Casey liked getting the extra sleep, and with Torrin usually staying in bed until after seven, Zeke figured he'd enjoy some time alone.
'Get some game-time in, grab a coffee, forget about this crazy shit,' he'd told himself on the way downstairs. After filling a mug, he'd gone to the computer, switched it on then opened Mozilla to get gaming. He checked his email first-first mistake. 'Fuckin' spam,' he thought at the three messages that got through his spam filter. The titles were the usual:
URGENT MESSAGE: YOUR INHERITANCE HAS PROCESSED
Make her happy with 10+ inches!! FREE TRIAL
College Loans: Get The Education For Your Dream Job
Zeke had rolled his eyes and ticked each one to send them to the trash-bin. But even after they were gone, his thoughts had lingered on the second mail-whatever miracle-drug advertised, one that could make a man's equipment everything a woman dreamed of (or give the idiot taking it a heart condition) he didn't need. Still, it'd dawned on Zeke that it was four-thirty in the morning and he was alone with no husband nor kid ambling around to see what he was doing on the internet. The internet, which was, in fact, invented to provide humans with endless amounts of porn.
Casey wasn't a prude in the slightest, but he'd usually snort with amusement and roll his eyes when it came to watching porn. While Zeke would feel a stirring on those nights they'd get rid of Torrin and rent a flick from the '18+' back-room section of their local video store, Casey was more interested in making fun of how contrived, poorly-shot and amateur most of it was. “I never thought a blowjob could get so boring,” he'd say when an onscreen dick-sucking would go on and on, and while Zeke agreed, he'd STILL get an erection. It'd been some time since they'd gotten one, and Zeke couldn't recall the last time he'd sneaked around online to get a fix. Not that he needed to sneak... that was another understanding between them. Both of them were mature enough to know that a married man or woman wasn't a cheating bastard looking at naked people whom they weren't betrothed to. So Zeke made a quick check behind him to the stairs, sighed and opened a new tab.
Only Zeke had wondered what Casey would think, how he'd feel, if he knew Zeke wasn't trawling the 'net for dicks, but chicks. Had Simone been a fluke, or did Zeke still have something in him that enjoyed a girl's shape? His past wasn't a secret; three girls had been in his bed between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, and while many others they'd gone to school with had done FAR worse, it still confused Zeke at times. When it came to how he'd discovered what he really wanted the most, finding it in Casey enough to marry him even before they'd gotten their degrees (Casey himself just having gotten his doctorate mere months before-a true accomplishment, considering the kid who'd been kicking-around the place for four years now), he wasn't sure. Zeke just knew it was right, the best and healthiest for him.
But holy-wow, breasts. As Zeke had stared at the pair before him, the blonde-haired owner on 'wet-xxx-girls.com' displaying the double-D cups proudly, he could imagine grabbing one while kissing the other. A woman didn't even have to be immaculately pretty in the face or be super-skinny to have a great rack; in fact, sometimes the bigger girls had the best sets. Tits were perfect in every way. 'Nothing wrong, wanting to see this,' Zeke convinced himself as he went from site-to-site, link-to-link while trying to be careful when it came to pop-ups and the 'malicious site' warnings his browser and virus protection gave him. The last thing Zeke needed was to have Torrin hop on Club Penguin only to somehow come across cum-covered boobs. In Zeke's ultra-paranoid mind, it could happen.
He finally settled on one site in particular, one dedicated to everything breast-related. 'fuckmytitties.com' was gratuitous-galore, no shame or reserves attached. If one spent more than two minutes here, they meant it. Zeke had scrolled down the front page's many gifs, loading fast to show everything from two cocks smearing their cum over and around a set of breasts to two girls pressing into each other lightly, just enough to go nipple-to-nipple. Zeke felt hypnotized and lingered longest at the latter, watching the perked nubs pull at each other lightly at every pass. 'Does this count as 'gay'?' he'd wondered... it was two women, imagery famous for making the most staunch, conservative republican straight man go mad with lust. Then again, that straight man was famous for feeling sick in seeing two men go at it...
It was when Zeke had just moved onto the 'video' tab of the site when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Panic had swelled and he quick clicked the pogo bookmark; no pop-ups had been hiding, a good thing as Torrin, sleepy-eyed, hair everywhere and his favorite blue teddy-bear under his arm, had gotten to his side. “Daddy, ah-had a bad dream,” he'd said with a sad pout, eyes wet.
After a quick-check to determine that the 'son surprise' had shrunk the results of two hours worth of boob-watching, Zeke had plunked the boy down in his lap and they'd played pogo's Pop-Fu together. Zeke knew where Torrin's latest batch of nightmares came from; Fantasia was going to collect dust in their movie collection from now on. 'He handled Jurassic Park better than that bad acid-trip,' Zeke had thought as Torrin cheered in popping every combination of balloons away and won a two-hundred token spin.
Casey had woken not long after that, and their morning began; Sundays had been deemed 'Doughnut Day' in their household, so they'd gotten dressed and headed off to 'Honeydew's', the best doughnut shop in all of New England. After getting their usual half-dozen, they'd gone to the back where a play-place for kids was provided. Autumn was closing-up fast, shown in the chilly air barely warded off by the coffee Zeke sipped. Though everyone around them had worn thick jackets and coats, it didn't matter-especially when it came to the woman standing by a stroller, watching her other young daughter play on the slide. The buttons of her long black coat strained at her chest in a desperate attempt to accommodate a large, full chest. Zeke's looking to the baby beside her and thinking, 'She probably breastfeeds,' made him both tingle from excitement and rage with guilt.
“Zeke?”
“Huh... what?” Zeke had snapped out of it and immediately worried when he looked to Casey, who was staring at him inquisitively.
“I asked... what time did you wake up this morning, anyway?” Casey asked.
“Oh. Early... bad dreams,” Zeke replied. Casey chuckled.
“Did Fantasia scare you, too?”
Zeke smirked and sipped his drink before saying, “Yea, maybe.”
The day had worn on in its usual way; breakfast, home, more computer time, taking Torrin around the block on his Big Wheel, until Zeke started to droop around five. He yawned through dinner, one of Casey's 'easies' as he called it-chicken nuggets, salad and bread with butter. “I'll make orange-chicken tomorrow,” he'd told Zeke, who hadn't minded a quickie-dinner at all. It was just enough to fill his stomach comfortably before going upstairs to make it a super-early night.
More dreams... this time with two women, both anonymous and conjured up in his mind. Instead of him having sex with one or both of them, he watched them playing cards at their dinner table, topless. Casey walked into the room, but before Zeke could jump up and explain things, he saw the man carrying a tray full of food. He set it down between them; as the girls began eating foot-long hot dogs, Casey looked to Zeke, smiled and said, “Whoever wins gets to suck your dick.” It had ended there, but Zeke hadn't woken. He simply drifted in and out of sleep-stages, each one taking him to more muted, generic visions and sounds. Upon waking, though he could only remember that one, distinct dream, he felt that whatever else had played-out had sexual undertones-none of which included a sexy, naked Casey.
The work-week wore on, his brain abuzz with these new, or perhaps refreshed ideas and feelings. It hurt Zeke to think that he'd done nothing but dream and become curious as to what turned him on. 'Seven year itch?' he'd mused on Thursday while going over paperwork he'd stumbled over for hours, twice as long as he usually did for one task. He frowned to himself... no, that couldn't be it. The night before, he'd been able to put aside the nagging, confusing thoughts to get Torrin in bed then enjoy channel-flipping with the husband, chucking derisively about stupid reality shows they'd come across, and how Torrin had asked with great distaste, “Why are they always fighting?” when he'd seen a clip from The Real World that afternoon. Though it hadn't ended in sex, Casey had gone to his back and pulled Zeke down for a long, beautiful makeout, right there in the living room. So of course Zeke was happy, well-adjusted and in no way wanted anything more than he already had.
But the trip to the grocery store after work made everything shift back to angry confusion. Stop & Shop was a hot-spot when it came to running into college students, and with only two lines open, Zeke had been stuck behind three young girls, barely eighteen by the look of them. The mercury outside had dipped below forty, but they didn't seem to know it; tank tops, too-tight jeans and sandals were their choices of wear, the girl closest to Zeke wearing a white top with a bright pink and red patterned bra underneath. He did his best to keep his eyes on the rack of tabloids next to him, but jerked and turned back when the girl accidentally nudged him with her shopping basket full of veggie-chips, diet soda, a bag of candy and tampons. “Oh... sorry,” she said as she'd turned to him; her smile went from apologetic to oh, look what I found.
“S'okay,” Zeke had mumbled, doing his best to smile back. He thought he'd explode into a million pieces when she turned back quickly to her friends and tried making a covert nod to him. More appreciative looks, smiles and hisses, Zeke catching the blonde in the middle saying, “Can we take him home with us?”
Now that it was Friday, Zeke could barely keep his mind on his work. He'd gone from confused to frustrated, even angry at what was going on inside of him. It wasn't possible, wasn't right to be this conflicted. To even have the thought, would it be better if I cheated with a woman? was enough to make him leave early, claiming he had a nasty headache. His record at work allowed it; rarely did he leave or call-out, so he had no guilt as he headed home at one o'clock. He didn't call Casey, as he knew the man would offer to come home and tend to him. Zeke ended up being glad for it when he'd stopped in at the Dali-Mart for cigarettes and saw the advertisement for a new club the next town over, its name sending him reeling.
Fantasia: 21+ Club, FREE FRIDAYS (before ten). 'I'm going,' Zeke thought with all the confirmation in the world as he got into his car, got on the road and sped home. Casey would let him go no problem, because they trusted each other. How Zeke managed to not cripple himself with guilt over knowing this... 'You're not gonna cheat on him, you're just...' he couldn't finish the thought, because he really didn't know why he was going. But he had to.
~*~
Techno was nowhere near Zeke's choice of music, but its scene was exactly what he wanted. This was where the college-crowd went, and if Zeke had thought the grocery store girls had been under-dressed, he was more of an old man than he thought he was. No girl he'd known back in Herrington, even those known for their 'easy living' would've dared dress like half the women here. Zeke had his eyes on the dance floor, one girl in particular; long auburn hair flowed down to her barely-covered chest, two men surrounding her. The young man behind her had his hands on her hips, the one in front keeping his hands down but crowding her all the same. The expression she wore said, I'm hot and I know it to anyone looking at her, and she was right. She'd certainly dressed the part; heels, thigh-highs and extremely tight and short lavender dress completed the picture of a girl in her prime, showing off large, beautiful breasts and curves. When she turned, Zeke swallowed and stared harder. Past the young man grinding from behind, Zeke made out the perfect shape of her ass. It was clear that she wasn't wearing anything under the dangerously-short dress. One dip down and every man there would know if she simply trimmed or waxed herself clear.
While there'd been no cover, as promised, the drinks were raking it in for this place. The simple double-shot of Jack Zeke was enjoying had cost eight dollars, a full ten with the tip he'd left. Every seat was filled with a thick layer of people surrounding those sitting, everyone throwing money down to get drunk and have a good time. Zeke blinked furiously when the girl next to him, a little more reserved than the purple-clad dancer in her capris and tank, slapped down a ten and three ones for her Long Island Iced Tea before prancing off with her friends. The bartender took it, throwing one of the ones into the tip jar and putting the rest in the till. 'I could buy a whole damned bottle of whiskey with that,' Zeke thought as the guy sitting next to him left to join some newcomers. The barstool was filled instantly by another person, a girl this time; Zeke allowed a look at her as she caught the bartender's attention and ordered a Fuzzy Navel.
Instead of finding her searing-hot like most of the girls, he thought, 'She's fucking cute.' Her short, ash-blond hair had a thick pink streak, longer than the rest of her hair hanging down to her neck. In fact, pink had to be her favorite color; light pink stretch capris, lacy see-through pink cami and dark pink bra patterned with roses, fucking pink sandals. Though her eyes were lined with black, she had more pink and a little seagreen on her lids... and of course, cotton candy glittered lips. On some girls, this would look ridiculously, but this little pixie worked it perfectly. The French would adore her breasts, which would fill a wine glass and nothing more. Though Zeke had lusted after those with DD-plus cup sizes over the last week, the thought that he could encompass most of one breast in his mouth was thrilling to think on. He turned away to light a cigarette; it was then that he felt a patting on his arm.
“Hey...”
Zeke looked back to the girl, who had a cigarette in her fingers. He gave her a questioning stare before she leaned in to ask, “Got a light? Left my lighter in the car.”
“Oh.” Zeke nodded, flicked his lighter open again and sent its flame out in the open. With a wide smile, the girl put the cigarette to her lips and leaned in to light it.
“Thanks, hun,” she said with a wink.
“'Welcome,” Zeke said, but the loud music drowned out his mumbled reply. He chose to turn his attention back to his glass, which had gone empty. When the bartender returned with the girl's drink, he held up a finger before she could pay. “Hey... I got 'er.”
The girl turned her smile back to Zeke as the bartender shrugged. “Okay. Anything for you?” he said, motioning to the glass.
“Yea, just a beer this time... Sam Adams.”
The man nodded and went to fill his order while Zeke got a twenty out from his wallet. His 'impulse buy's recipient had swiveled in the stool to face him, her expression soft but sly. “Buying a stranger a drink, huh?” she said.
“Huh?”
The girl laughed and leaned in close-close enough for Zeke to smell the perfume she wore. “Buying a stranger a drink, huh??” she repeated, louder this time. Zeke grinned and made a one-shouldered shrug.
“Eh, pretend it's your birthday,” he said-or yelled-back.
“Mmm.” The girl held out her hand. “Mindy.”
Zeke nodded and gave her hand a small shake. “Zeke.”
“Nice to meet ya, Zeke,” Mindy said. She brought the straw in her glass to her lips, sipped then went on, “It's not often that I run into a guy who's willing to drop almost ten bucks on me. Not even boyfriends.”
“Like I said... birthday,” Zeke replied as he was handed his glass, the bartender taking the twenty and moving on to the guy on Zeke's other side.
“Ah, you missed it by two weeks.” Mindy pointed to the paper bracelet she wore. “I made it to twenty-one; my parents were surprised.”
Twenty-one. Zeke had been here just over eight years longer than that. Not wanting to reveal that, he took a sip, grinned, leaned in and said, “'Surprised you didn't order a 'Pink Lady'.”
Mindy laughed-really laughed, instead of making flirty giggles like most girls. “I know, this kinda clashes, doesn't it?” she replied, lifting her peach-colored drink up.
Zeke smirked and moved back and forth in his seat. Christ, he wasn't nervous at all. Before he could worry on that, he said, “Peaches go good with strawberries, you're good.”
“What would you be... a blueberry?”
Zeke looked down at his shirt. While he'd dressed plainly enough, the v-necked blue shirt was his favorite and hugged his shoulders, waist and hips nicely. Hot enough for a club, easygoing enough to leave the house without the question, “What are YOU dressed-up for?” being asked. “Sure, why not?” he said. God, he liked this girl... maybe that was why he wasn't paranoid and worried. She was nice, confident and even a little goofy. He liked her, and would bet money that the girl on the dance floor-still grinding with the guys-wouldn't be likeable at all.
“You're in luck; I happen to be a vegetarian,” Mindy said, adding a waggling of her eyebrows.
“Hah. Riiight...” Zeke said. Now, he was blushing and looking away.
“So-do you dance?” she asked.
“Oh, um... no. I wouldn't subject you or anyone else to that.”
“Good, neither do I. For the same reasons.”
Zeke snorted and turned back to her. “So, we end up at a club and we don't dance. Thank Christ there's no cover charge, this would be a waste,” he said.
“They have a sweet deck, wanna get some fresh air?” Mindy asked.
Though their cigarettes would cancel out that 'fresh air', Zeke shrugged, nodded and followed her through the club to the large double-doors on the other side. Many people bopping around had bumped into him, but he smiled through it until they got outside. The girl was right; the second-floor deck was huge, chairs, tables, potted plants all around with strings of multi-colored lights above. Zeke nodded in approval as Mindy found them an empty picnic table close to the fencing overlooking the street. Though it was chilly, the heat from the club full of sweaty dancers and cramped spaces stuck around. “Yea, this is cool,” he said as he sat down next to her.
“I've only been here once, last week... but it's already my fave place,” Mindy said.
“Couldn't tell you the last time I went to a club,” Zeke said.
“Yea?”
“Mmm.” Zeke sipped his beer, smacked his lips then stared out over the street full of cars and Friday-nighters. “I've never been big on 'em, really.”
“But you came tonight...?” Mindy said with a bright smile. “I'm glad you did. The drinks are mad-fucking expensive...”
Zeke chortled and turned to her. “Hey man, next round's on you.”
“Aw, don't ruin it!”
Still chuckling, Zeke watched as she sipped from her half-empty glass. 'Or is it half-full?' he thought at the same time he wondered what it'd be like, closing the space between them and kissing her. Would she let him, or throw the rest of her Zeke-bought drink in his face and yell, “What kind of girl do you TAKE me for, you brute?!” He wasn't going to chance it, of course, but it felt nice to wonder.
“So, where do you go to school?” Mindy asked. Zeke blinked and stared at her.
“Oh. Not in school, no... but... thanks,” he said. The ego-boost never failed to kick-in at times like these.
“Oh. What, you just left or didn't go?”
Sighing, Zeke shook his head and grinned. “I'm twenty-eight.”
The look of surprise Mindy wore was comical. “Serious? Wow, I figured we'd just never run into each other on campus,” she said. “I thought you were MY age.”
“Like I said, 'thanks for that,” Zeke said with a wink. “Where do you go?”
“Connecticut College; few towns that way, in New London.”
Zeke perked up, hearing this. “Yea, I know, that's where...” he stopped dead; the cold around them reached him, now. Mindy raised her eyebrows.
“You went there back in the 'old days'?” she joked.
'He could be her fucking teacher,' Zeke thought as he sank forward a little. “No. 'From Ohio, originally.”
“Yea? What made you move out here?”
It was no use. Zeke rubbed the back of his neck, head turned to Mindy but his eyes set on the potted plant in the corner nearby. “Connecticut let me marry my boyfriend,” he admitted, lifting his hand to show off his ring. Mindy stared at it a few moments, then looked to him. Any moment now, she'd be rolling her eyes, muttering, ain't that the way? and storming off.
“Aw...”
Zeke darted his eyes to her face and sat straighter. The smile she wore was wide, cheeks gone almost as pink as her outfit. “Yea,” he said.
“Just needed to get away a bit, huh?” Mindy asked, still smiling kindly.
“No. No, not... really. Sorry if I gave you, y'know... ideas,” Zeke told her.
The girl shrugged, sipped the last of her drink and said, “I WAS a bit hopeful. But hey, it's not like I'm gonna get some angry man on my doorstep tomorrow morning, yelling for HIS man, right?”
“Still. If you wanna case-out the joint, feel free,” Zeke said. He looked to her and made a meek, sweet smile. “I just wanted to see what buying a girl a drink would feel like.”
With an, “Aw...” Mindy pulled her knees up and rested her elbows on them. “N'aw. I don't feel like going back in yet. The place is full of 'no cover' douchebags 'til after ten, anyway.”
“Hey, waitaminute...”
“You were the first guy who's ever bought me a drink.” Mindy gave him another wink and added, “You're the exception.”
~*~
No lights were on in the house, but Zeke could see the flashing of the TV through the windows as he went up to the front door. Once inside, he crept to the archway leading into the living room and smiled. There on the couch sat Casey, drinking a glass of cola, a blanket-covered, sleeping Torrin lying his head in his lap. “Hey,” Zeke murmured.
“Hey, back.” Casey smiled and patted Torrin's head. “This kid thinks he's sooo slick.”
“Whattaya mean?”
“He came downstairs, saying-and I quote, 'I had a nightmare did you pop popcorn what're you watchin'?'” Casey said with no pauses. As Zeke chuckled, Casey shook his head. “I stayed on the safe side and let him stay up with me, but next time, he gets five minutes of daddy-time in his room then sucks-it-up.”
“Aw,” Zeke cooed. When Casey say up and try to wake Torrin, Zeke stepped forth. “Lemmee get him upstairs.”
“Okay... ah...” Casey moaned as Zeke lifted Torrin carefully from the couch. “My leg fell asleep...”
“I got it,” Zeke said. Putting their son's head on his shoulder and making sure his bear was tucked between them, Zeke went to the stairs, climbed and got into Torrin's room. At times, he'd frown and wonder where the crib had gone before realizing their boy was growing up. Torrin was brought over to the twin-sized bed they'd gotten for him over the summer, set him down and pulled the blankets over him. Though Torrin made soft mumbles, he quieted and curled up to get warm. Zeke stayed for a moment or two, watching his son's chest go up and down slowly. “'Night, kiddo,” Zeke whispered, placed a kiss on Torrin's forehead then left the room, leaving the door cracked-open.
Back downstairs, the TV was still on but Casey was in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher. Zeke stood against the doorjamb, watching him. Here it was, just past midnight and he was doing chores. Casey glanced up, smiled and asked, “So, how was the new club?”
“It was a club,” Zeke replied blandly.
“Disappointing? I've never been into 'em, myself,” Casey said.
“Yea...” Zeke looked off to the side at the cork-board, staring at the 'Emergency' list of numbers they kept there for Claire. At the top was Casey's cell and office number-Connecticut College, where Mindy went.
“I'm majoring in English, but a lot of my classes are in his building. I'll have to keep an eye out-is he cute?”
Zeke looked back to Casey, who was kneeling down to get something from the bottom of the washer. Even with him grunting and bitching about a fork being stuck, having to dig through water stains and build-up...
“No. He's gorgeous.” He kept his favorite picture of Casey in his wallet, one he'd taken of Casey at the beach with Torrin in his lap; one he'd proudly showed Mindy. “Casey?”
“Yea? UGH, that hole in the silverware thing, it's--”
“Casey. Stop a sec.” Zeke stood straighter as Casey looked to him. Words escaped Zeke; Casey frowned through the silence.
“What?”
Sighing, Zeke stepped over and leaned on the sink. “I don't say it enough-'I love you', do I?”
A smile spread over Casey's face. “Yea, ya do,” he said as he stood. “Even if you didn't, I know.”
“I should say it more, though.”
“Zeke...” Casey shut the dishwasher door and gave Zeke a deep, penetrating stare. “...What's wrong?”
All Zeke wanted to do now was say, “Nothing,” smile and take Casey upstairs to the bedroom-make up for his mind and heart's wandering in the last week, maybe more, without words. But if he did that, he knew that wandering and wondering would return, perhaps harder and longer than the first time. “Do you ever... wonder what it would've been like if I hadn't been your first?” he asked. “Like, I'm all you've ever had, or known. Do you?”
“Not... really,” Casey replied. “Why?”
Zeke rubbed the side of his neck, stretching it to the side as he said, “You were MY first, when it came to guys... I hit a vein this week. A weird one.”
“A vein?”
“I started thinking of girls,” Zeke said-there. Out. He looked to Casey, not knowing what to expect. When all Casey did was stare, Zeke went on, “When I went out last week, I got hit on by this chick who bought me a drink. I told her I was married, and she made out like it didn't have to matter.”
“Um...” Casey put his head to the side, staring at Zeke edgewise. That look was reserved for suspicion and doubt, which Zeke recognized all-too-well; he shook his head in firm, slow movements.
“I didn't. I wouldn't, not in a million. Don't worry.”
“'K, I figured... but... thinking of girls...”
“You know all about me, like I said, you were my first. First guy, meaning. But that girl made me think of shit; my past, y'know? And I got to wondering... if I really didn't get anything out of being with a girl anymore,” Zeke explained. He gave Casey a careful, tentative gaze. “I'm... just admitting shit, cos' I want you to know, y'know?”
“Yea, I do,” Casey replied softly.
Christ, Zeke was a lucky guy. The inching-along toward a resolution to this picked up some speed, knowing that he was safe. “Not gonna lie, I was getting a little freaked-out about it, wondering if I lean more toward being bi, if women DO have a hold on me somehow... the morning I woke up stupid-early? I looked up a fuck-ton of porn. Straight porn,” he said. Besides Casey taking a deep breath and letting it out slower than usual, moving to lean on the counter next to Zeke, the young man said nothing, letting Zeke continue. “And tits-they DO something to me. It was like, that's this one bit my brain really hasn't let go of. So I confess, 'k? I sat around for a couple hours looking at every tit I could before you guys got up.”
“Oh... 'kay,” Casey replied haltingly.
“You pissed?”
“No. But...” Casey bit his lip, looked away a moment then muttered, “...What happened tonight, at the club?”
Zeke made a tiny shrug and folded his arms over his chest. “Watched a few girls-this one dancing, she was totally... letting everyone know what she'd let any guy do to her with how she was acting, dressed. Got me a little hot. Then this other girl sat next to me.” Zeke had to smile, even if Casey was worried. “I bought her a drink, we sat around, hung out... and I liked her. Really liked her.”
“What kind of 'like' are we talking about?” Casey said, his voice firmer than before.
“As in, 'she was a really nice person' like. Cute? Hells yea. Sexy? In a fae way, definitely. But I liked her. After having a chick get up on me knowing I was married, looking at gratuitous sex-shit online and watching girls dance like hookers, she was... different,” Zeke said. “So instead of trying to live out this weird, 'I'm just looking' fantasy where she starts thinking she's gonna take me back to her place, I told her I was married. To a guy.”
“What'd... she say?” Casey asked.
“A lot. We sat around and talked and talked and talked... we smoked a pack-and-a-half, one after the other. Instead of taking-off to find an unattached straight guy, we hung out together until I left,” Zeke said. “She goes to your school-initially thought I was a student, too.”
“Oh, great...” Casey rolled his eyes and made a tiny smirk. “...Like you need to get your ego boosted like that, you're bad enough when you look in the mirror.”
“Can't be helped, sorry,” Zeke said, even running his hand through what he considered the best hair on the planet. Casey again rolled his eyes and went back to the dishwasher.
“Well good, glad you sorted this shit out. You wanna help me get this stupid fork out of--”
Before Casey could open the washer's door, Zeke reached over, took his wrist and pulled him back. “You don't get it,” he said.
“Get what?” Casey asked.
Zeke hissed a deep breath in then let it out slowly; he put one hand to the side of Casey's head and smoothed his thumb over the man's temple. Putting their noses together, he whispered, “After all my stupid bullshit I put myself through, I hit another vein. One that makes me want to marry you all over again.”
Casey's cheeks went pink... as pink as Mindy's eyeshadow. “You're... all romance right now, huh?”
“Something else I gotta do more,” Zeke said.
“You do, Zeke, really...” Casey went to say, but Zeke stopped him with a soft, smooth kiss. Casey melted into it immediately; Zeke made it worthwhile, keeping it slow, quiet-romance. It brought him back to when he'd asked Casey if he wanted to move to Connecticut where they could get married, just over seven years before. It'd been a mere mention over a bag of chips and a ridiculous infomercial for exercise equipment, instead of hiring a song-and-dance troupe in the middle of Disney World, where the world around could pay witness to just how much Zeke loved this young man. He broke the kiss in feeling sudden shame over his not giving that very important proposal the respect it'd deserved.
When Casey released a long-held breath and looked at Zeke through half-lidded eyes, Zeke figured, better late than never. Smiling as if he was apologizing, he bent down to one knee, took the hand wearing the wedding ring and kissed it. “Will you marry me, again?”
For a moment, all Casey did was stare, until he let a puff of chuckles escape. “What, like-get another ceremony together, stress-out over finding an agnostic who can do a legal--”
“Why the fuck not?” Zeke interrupted.
“Zeke... if you're trying to make up for not doing this on a Tahitian vacation on a live-streaming online youtube... thing...” Casey gave Zeke's hands a squeeze and he smiled wide. “The way you'd proposed was you. Just, so you. I tell everyone how it happened.”
“For a laugh, yea. I ain't laughing now, neither are you. So. Mind giving me an answer before my fucking knee cramps-up?”
Casey made a heavy sigh and his grin went even wider. “Well... okay,” he replied. “Now get up.”
“Good.” Zeke pushed himself up, finding that it wasn't easy. Casey chuckled and helped, taking his arm to pull Zeke back onto his feet. Instead of Casey leaping into his arms, kissing the life out of him, the young man stepped back.
“NOW will you help me get the fucking fork outta the washer?”
Little fucker. Having had enough of domestic bullshit, Zeke sniffed, grabbed Casey's waist with both arms then flung him over his shoulder in one swift move. Casey yelped and kicked his feet up as Zeke turned to the doorway leading to the front. “Zeke!!” Casey cried out past wheezing and laughter.
“Fuck the fork, we're taking this celebrations upstairs,” Zeke said.
“Zeke, for god's sake--”
“Shush, boy... don't wake the kid up, not fuckin' now.”
“My god... you're...”
Casey never finished, choosing to sigh and allow Zeke to bring him upstairs to the bedroom. Moments after being tossed on the bed, Casey let go of the aloof attitude, eye-rolling and sarcasm all fleeing the scene to enjoy just exactly how much Zeke loved his small but fierce body, no icky girl-bits needed.
Title: Just Like You: Pink
Pairing: C/Z
Rating: NC-17
Warning(s): het, some angst
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Zeke has a past, one that clashes with the present.
As much as they were married, neither Casey nor Zeke had the unhealthy view that they had to do everything together. Most nights were spent taking turns with Torrin-care, having dinner together and general 'life stuff' every family went through, good or bad. But when their four-year old would go to bed and they'd have some free-time, they weren't always in the mood to cuddle-up on the couch to watch a movie together, or sit around and talk. Both of them loved video games, but in different ways; Casey seemed to have been born with a PS3 controller in his hand, while Zeke had a thing for puzzles, word-games and cards. They'd retreat to the living room and Zeke would throw pogo.com on, while Casey went online to group-up with players all over the world to fight armies or... whatever.
It had its social aspects. Casey would pause his game to go over and help Zeke out with a particularly hard level, or Zeke would start laughing if a stupid argument struck up between Casey's teammates... or at times, Casey WITH his teammates. When Casey would get thirsty, he'd get Zeke a drink as well; if Zeke got peckish, he'd split a bowl of microwaved popcorn between them. Neither of them needed to make requests, and a sweet smile and “Thanks, babe,” would be given.
There were other times they'd be 'doing their thing' that didn't involve kicking around the house. Just last weekend, one of Casey's fellow professors had a birthday, and all the man wanted to do was go to his favorite classy wine bar in Mystic. “Wanna go? I'm sure we can get Claire to babysit,” Casey had said to Zeke, referring to the high school girl a few houses down who adored Torrin to pieces, and would always say, “yea, sure!” when they'd ask for her services, last minute or not.
But Zeke had shrugged and said his brain was only capable of binging on the game show channel. The guys Casey worked with were nice, but he wasn't about wine bars filled with live jazz music while the professors talked about stuff Zeke wasn't involved in. Selfish, perhaps; but generous, at the same time. Telling Casey, “Neh, go ahead-me and Tory will find something to do,” was the same as saying, “You have fun, because everyone's allowed to leave the house without their partner attached to them every now and again.”
The night after Casey's wine-filled adventure with the guys (their designated driver practically carrying him to the door at one-thirty) Zeke had felt restless and gone out to HIS favorite bar. 'The Tav' wasn't anything special, just a place within walking distance to play pool, throw a few bucks in the jukebox and share a few brews with strangers. He liked going alone, sometimes bringing a book with him. And that night, while leafing through 'A Twist of Lennon', Jo the bartender had arrived with a freshly-poured glass of Guinness. Zeke had frowned and said, “I didn't order...?”
Jo had grinned. “The pink cleavage-bomb at the end of the bar,” she'd said.
Looking over, Zeke found a wavy-blonde haired woman, perhaps only a few years younger than him, staring at him with a cotton-candy colored smile. Jo had walked off chuckling; apparently, she hadn't seen the need to tell the girl, “He's a happily married man to ANOTHER man.” He'd almost glared at the server for not having revealed that, but when he saw the woman get up and saunter over, he froze.
Simone, a recent graduate of Penn State, had “Just moved into town,” with a former dorm-roomie and had “a thing for tall, dark, handsome and a little geeky.” Any hopeless dork would jump at the chance; perky, beautiful breasts, slim waist with hips like handles and legs that looked best walking down a catwalk in Paris, instead of crossed over while sitting in a bar next to a very-married man. When she'd leaned in close and looked down at the book Zeke was reading, she pouted.
“Oh, no,” she lamented while pointing to his wedding ring.
“Yea...” Zeke had said, smirking as he turned it around and around with his thumb. Saying, 'And I'm gay, sorry,' would've cemented things, but he found that he suddenly... couldn't. Before he figured she'd say, 'Well, too bad for me then! Enjoy the drink, I guess...' and saunter off to find an unattached guy, she made a very signature, seductive smile.
“I guess the question is... does it matter?”
This, most certainly, elicited a quick reply. “Nice try,” Zeke had told her, winking then returning to his book. He chose not to be angry about it; it was simply the way things were, nowadays. But he wasn't 'the way things were'. He took their vows seriously, no questions or doubts involved. Simone had sighed, shrugged and slid out of her seat to return to the one she'd vacated.
At least it gave Zeke a story to tell once he got back. “Still got it,” he'd planned on saying, while Casey rolled his eyes and flipped him off. But after a round of pool with the last winner of the game before him, a soda and piss, Zeke had walked home, gone inside and found Casey on the couch watching TV.
“Hey... have fun?”
Zeke had opened his mouth to start bragging... “Yea, was okay,” seemed to be the only thing he could say, however. He'd slipped his jacket off and asked Casey if he'd join him in bed.
“In a bit, they're showing 'Terminator 2'. Haven't seen it in years,” Casey had replied.
So Zeke had given him a peck goodnight, gone upstairs, done his usual bedtime routine then went under the covers. He usually fell asleep within minutes of putting his head on the pillow, but his brain had kicked into high, buzzing gear-and the subject was a given. Simone, who didn't have a dick, had done something to him. He hadn't felt any kind of stirring toward a woman since he realized they actually didn't do anything for him, but... how he'd gone to sleep after wondering what her tits looked like was a wonder.
But it wasn't as if he'd enjoyed a restful night's sleep. Normally, his dreams were vague impressions that he'd barely remember when he'd wake up. The ones he'd be able to recall were pleasant, usually involving husband and son... but not on this night. On this night, visions of the blonde-haired girl looking down on him as she rode him filled his mind, his hands grabbing at perfect breasts as she moaned. Worst of all, it'd been in his living room, and according to Simone, Casey had just pulled into the driveway.
“I locked the door, it's okay,” Dream-Zeke had told her before the real Zeke had woken up in a cold sweat, panting and panicked. Before he could worry over Casey walking in and finding him and Simone, he snapped his head to the left and found Casey on the other side of their bed, snoring away. His next look had been to the clock on the bedside table; 3:55 AM. He'd only had a little under five hours of sleep, but he was wide awake-no chance of sleeping-in on a lazy Sunday. Casey liked getting the extra sleep, and with Torrin usually staying in bed until after seven, Zeke figured he'd enjoy some time alone.
'Get some game-time in, grab a coffee, forget about this crazy shit,' he'd told himself on the way downstairs. After filling a mug, he'd gone to the computer, switched it on then opened Mozilla to get gaming. He checked his email first-first mistake. 'Fuckin' spam,' he thought at the three messages that got through his spam filter. The titles were the usual:
URGENT MESSAGE: YOUR INHERITANCE HAS PROCESSED
Make her happy with 10+ inches!! FREE TRIAL
College Loans: Get The Education For Your Dream Job
Zeke had rolled his eyes and ticked each one to send them to the trash-bin. But even after they were gone, his thoughts had lingered on the second mail-whatever miracle-drug advertised, one that could make a man's equipment everything a woman dreamed of (or give the idiot taking it a heart condition) he didn't need. Still, it'd dawned on Zeke that it was four-thirty in the morning and he was alone with no husband nor kid ambling around to see what he was doing on the internet. The internet, which was, in fact, invented to provide humans with endless amounts of porn.
Casey wasn't a prude in the slightest, but he'd usually snort with amusement and roll his eyes when it came to watching porn. While Zeke would feel a stirring on those nights they'd get rid of Torrin and rent a flick from the '18+' back-room section of their local video store, Casey was more interested in making fun of how contrived, poorly-shot and amateur most of it was. “I never thought a blowjob could get so boring,” he'd say when an onscreen dick-sucking would go on and on, and while Zeke agreed, he'd STILL get an erection. It'd been some time since they'd gotten one, and Zeke couldn't recall the last time he'd sneaked around online to get a fix. Not that he needed to sneak... that was another understanding between them. Both of them were mature enough to know that a married man or woman wasn't a cheating bastard looking at naked people whom they weren't betrothed to. So Zeke made a quick check behind him to the stairs, sighed and opened a new tab.
Only Zeke had wondered what Casey would think, how he'd feel, if he knew Zeke wasn't trawling the 'net for dicks, but chicks. Had Simone been a fluke, or did Zeke still have something in him that enjoyed a girl's shape? His past wasn't a secret; three girls had been in his bed between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, and while many others they'd gone to school with had done FAR worse, it still confused Zeke at times. When it came to how he'd discovered what he really wanted the most, finding it in Casey enough to marry him even before they'd gotten their degrees (Casey himself just having gotten his doctorate mere months before-a true accomplishment, considering the kid who'd been kicking-around the place for four years now), he wasn't sure. Zeke just knew it was right, the best and healthiest for him.
But holy-wow, breasts. As Zeke had stared at the pair before him, the blonde-haired owner on 'wet-xxx-girls.com' displaying the double-D cups proudly, he could imagine grabbing one while kissing the other. A woman didn't even have to be immaculately pretty in the face or be super-skinny to have a great rack; in fact, sometimes the bigger girls had the best sets. Tits were perfect in every way. 'Nothing wrong, wanting to see this,' Zeke convinced himself as he went from site-to-site, link-to-link while trying to be careful when it came to pop-ups and the 'malicious site' warnings his browser and virus protection gave him. The last thing Zeke needed was to have Torrin hop on Club Penguin only to somehow come across cum-covered boobs. In Zeke's ultra-paranoid mind, it could happen.
He finally settled on one site in particular, one dedicated to everything breast-related. 'fuckmytitties.com' was gratuitous-galore, no shame or reserves attached. If one spent more than two minutes here, they meant it. Zeke had scrolled down the front page's many gifs, loading fast to show everything from two cocks smearing their cum over and around a set of breasts to two girls pressing into each other lightly, just enough to go nipple-to-nipple. Zeke felt hypnotized and lingered longest at the latter, watching the perked nubs pull at each other lightly at every pass. 'Does this count as 'gay'?' he'd wondered... it was two women, imagery famous for making the most staunch, conservative republican straight man go mad with lust. Then again, that straight man was famous for feeling sick in seeing two men go at it...
It was when Zeke had just moved onto the 'video' tab of the site when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Panic had swelled and he quick clicked the pogo bookmark; no pop-ups had been hiding, a good thing as Torrin, sleepy-eyed, hair everywhere and his favorite blue teddy-bear under his arm, had gotten to his side. “Daddy, ah-had a bad dream,” he'd said with a sad pout, eyes wet.
After a quick-check to determine that the 'son surprise' had shrunk the results of two hours worth of boob-watching, Zeke had plunked the boy down in his lap and they'd played pogo's Pop-Fu together. Zeke knew where Torrin's latest batch of nightmares came from; Fantasia was going to collect dust in their movie collection from now on. 'He handled Jurassic Park better than that bad acid-trip,' Zeke had thought as Torrin cheered in popping every combination of balloons away and won a two-hundred token spin.
Casey had woken not long after that, and their morning began; Sundays had been deemed 'Doughnut Day' in their household, so they'd gotten dressed and headed off to 'Honeydew's', the best doughnut shop in all of New England. After getting their usual half-dozen, they'd gone to the back where a play-place for kids was provided. Autumn was closing-up fast, shown in the chilly air barely warded off by the coffee Zeke sipped. Though everyone around them had worn thick jackets and coats, it didn't matter-especially when it came to the woman standing by a stroller, watching her other young daughter play on the slide. The buttons of her long black coat strained at her chest in a desperate attempt to accommodate a large, full chest. Zeke's looking to the baby beside her and thinking, 'She probably breastfeeds,' made him both tingle from excitement and rage with guilt.
“Zeke?”
“Huh... what?” Zeke had snapped out of it and immediately worried when he looked to Casey, who was staring at him inquisitively.
“I asked... what time did you wake up this morning, anyway?” Casey asked.
“Oh. Early... bad dreams,” Zeke replied. Casey chuckled.
“Did Fantasia scare you, too?”
Zeke smirked and sipped his drink before saying, “Yea, maybe.”
The day had worn on in its usual way; breakfast, home, more computer time, taking Torrin around the block on his Big Wheel, until Zeke started to droop around five. He yawned through dinner, one of Casey's 'easies' as he called it-chicken nuggets, salad and bread with butter. “I'll make orange-chicken tomorrow,” he'd told Zeke, who hadn't minded a quickie-dinner at all. It was just enough to fill his stomach comfortably before going upstairs to make it a super-early night.
More dreams... this time with two women, both anonymous and conjured up in his mind. Instead of him having sex with one or both of them, he watched them playing cards at their dinner table, topless. Casey walked into the room, but before Zeke could jump up and explain things, he saw the man carrying a tray full of food. He set it down between them; as the girls began eating foot-long hot dogs, Casey looked to Zeke, smiled and said, “Whoever wins gets to suck your dick.” It had ended there, but Zeke hadn't woken. He simply drifted in and out of sleep-stages, each one taking him to more muted, generic visions and sounds. Upon waking, though he could only remember that one, distinct dream, he felt that whatever else had played-out had sexual undertones-none of which included a sexy, naked Casey.
The work-week wore on, his brain abuzz with these new, or perhaps refreshed ideas and feelings. It hurt Zeke to think that he'd done nothing but dream and become curious as to what turned him on. 'Seven year itch?' he'd mused on Thursday while going over paperwork he'd stumbled over for hours, twice as long as he usually did for one task. He frowned to himself... no, that couldn't be it. The night before, he'd been able to put aside the nagging, confusing thoughts to get Torrin in bed then enjoy channel-flipping with the husband, chucking derisively about stupid reality shows they'd come across, and how Torrin had asked with great distaste, “Why are they always fighting?” when he'd seen a clip from The Real World that afternoon. Though it hadn't ended in sex, Casey had gone to his back and pulled Zeke down for a long, beautiful makeout, right there in the living room. So of course Zeke was happy, well-adjusted and in no way wanted anything more than he already had.
But the trip to the grocery store after work made everything shift back to angry confusion. Stop & Shop was a hot-spot when it came to running into college students, and with only two lines open, Zeke had been stuck behind three young girls, barely eighteen by the look of them. The mercury outside had dipped below forty, but they didn't seem to know it; tank tops, too-tight jeans and sandals were their choices of wear, the girl closest to Zeke wearing a white top with a bright pink and red patterned bra underneath. He did his best to keep his eyes on the rack of tabloids next to him, but jerked and turned back when the girl accidentally nudged him with her shopping basket full of veggie-chips, diet soda, a bag of candy and tampons. “Oh... sorry,” she said as she'd turned to him; her smile went from apologetic to oh, look what I found.
“S'okay,” Zeke had mumbled, doing his best to smile back. He thought he'd explode into a million pieces when she turned back quickly to her friends and tried making a covert nod to him. More appreciative looks, smiles and hisses, Zeke catching the blonde in the middle saying, “Can we take him home with us?”
Now that it was Friday, Zeke could barely keep his mind on his work. He'd gone from confused to frustrated, even angry at what was going on inside of him. It wasn't possible, wasn't right to be this conflicted. To even have the thought, would it be better if I cheated with a woman? was enough to make him leave early, claiming he had a nasty headache. His record at work allowed it; rarely did he leave or call-out, so he had no guilt as he headed home at one o'clock. He didn't call Casey, as he knew the man would offer to come home and tend to him. Zeke ended up being glad for it when he'd stopped in at the Dali-Mart for cigarettes and saw the advertisement for a new club the next town over, its name sending him reeling.
Fantasia: 21+ Club, FREE FRIDAYS (before ten). 'I'm going,' Zeke thought with all the confirmation in the world as he got into his car, got on the road and sped home. Casey would let him go no problem, because they trusted each other. How Zeke managed to not cripple himself with guilt over knowing this... 'You're not gonna cheat on him, you're just...' he couldn't finish the thought, because he really didn't know why he was going. But he had to.
~*~
Techno was nowhere near Zeke's choice of music, but its scene was exactly what he wanted. This was where the college-crowd went, and if Zeke had thought the grocery store girls had been under-dressed, he was more of an old man than he thought he was. No girl he'd known back in Herrington, even those known for their 'easy living' would've dared dress like half the women here. Zeke had his eyes on the dance floor, one girl in particular; long auburn hair flowed down to her barely-covered chest, two men surrounding her. The young man behind her had his hands on her hips, the one in front keeping his hands down but crowding her all the same. The expression she wore said, I'm hot and I know it to anyone looking at her, and she was right. She'd certainly dressed the part; heels, thigh-highs and extremely tight and short lavender dress completed the picture of a girl in her prime, showing off large, beautiful breasts and curves. When she turned, Zeke swallowed and stared harder. Past the young man grinding from behind, Zeke made out the perfect shape of her ass. It was clear that she wasn't wearing anything under the dangerously-short dress. One dip down and every man there would know if she simply trimmed or waxed herself clear.
While there'd been no cover, as promised, the drinks were raking it in for this place. The simple double-shot of Jack Zeke was enjoying had cost eight dollars, a full ten with the tip he'd left. Every seat was filled with a thick layer of people surrounding those sitting, everyone throwing money down to get drunk and have a good time. Zeke blinked furiously when the girl next to him, a little more reserved than the purple-clad dancer in her capris and tank, slapped down a ten and three ones for her Long Island Iced Tea before prancing off with her friends. The bartender took it, throwing one of the ones into the tip jar and putting the rest in the till. 'I could buy a whole damned bottle of whiskey with that,' Zeke thought as the guy sitting next to him left to join some newcomers. The barstool was filled instantly by another person, a girl this time; Zeke allowed a look at her as she caught the bartender's attention and ordered a Fuzzy Navel.
Instead of finding her searing-hot like most of the girls, he thought, 'She's fucking cute.' Her short, ash-blond hair had a thick pink streak, longer than the rest of her hair hanging down to her neck. In fact, pink had to be her favorite color; light pink stretch capris, lacy see-through pink cami and dark pink bra patterned with roses, fucking pink sandals. Though her eyes were lined with black, she had more pink and a little seagreen on her lids... and of course, cotton candy glittered lips. On some girls, this would look ridiculously, but this little pixie worked it perfectly. The French would adore her breasts, which would fill a wine glass and nothing more. Though Zeke had lusted after those with DD-plus cup sizes over the last week, the thought that he could encompass most of one breast in his mouth was thrilling to think on. He turned away to light a cigarette; it was then that he felt a patting on his arm.
“Hey...”
Zeke looked back to the girl, who had a cigarette in her fingers. He gave her a questioning stare before she leaned in to ask, “Got a light? Left my lighter in the car.”
“Oh.” Zeke nodded, flicked his lighter open again and sent its flame out in the open. With a wide smile, the girl put the cigarette to her lips and leaned in to light it.
“Thanks, hun,” she said with a wink.
“'Welcome,” Zeke said, but the loud music drowned out his mumbled reply. He chose to turn his attention back to his glass, which had gone empty. When the bartender returned with the girl's drink, he held up a finger before she could pay. “Hey... I got 'er.”
The girl turned her smile back to Zeke as the bartender shrugged. “Okay. Anything for you?” he said, motioning to the glass.
“Yea, just a beer this time... Sam Adams.”
The man nodded and went to fill his order while Zeke got a twenty out from his wallet. His 'impulse buy's recipient had swiveled in the stool to face him, her expression soft but sly. “Buying a stranger a drink, huh?” she said.
“Huh?”
The girl laughed and leaned in close-close enough for Zeke to smell the perfume she wore. “Buying a stranger a drink, huh??” she repeated, louder this time. Zeke grinned and made a one-shouldered shrug.
“Eh, pretend it's your birthday,” he said-or yelled-back.
“Mmm.” The girl held out her hand. “Mindy.”
Zeke nodded and gave her hand a small shake. “Zeke.”
“Nice to meet ya, Zeke,” Mindy said. She brought the straw in her glass to her lips, sipped then went on, “It's not often that I run into a guy who's willing to drop almost ten bucks on me. Not even boyfriends.”
“Like I said... birthday,” Zeke replied as he was handed his glass, the bartender taking the twenty and moving on to the guy on Zeke's other side.
“Ah, you missed it by two weeks.” Mindy pointed to the paper bracelet she wore. “I made it to twenty-one; my parents were surprised.”
Twenty-one. Zeke had been here just over eight years longer than that. Not wanting to reveal that, he took a sip, grinned, leaned in and said, “'Surprised you didn't order a 'Pink Lady'.”
Mindy laughed-really laughed, instead of making flirty giggles like most girls. “I know, this kinda clashes, doesn't it?” she replied, lifting her peach-colored drink up.
Zeke smirked and moved back and forth in his seat. Christ, he wasn't nervous at all. Before he could worry on that, he said, “Peaches go good with strawberries, you're good.”
“What would you be... a blueberry?”
Zeke looked down at his shirt. While he'd dressed plainly enough, the v-necked blue shirt was his favorite and hugged his shoulders, waist and hips nicely. Hot enough for a club, easygoing enough to leave the house without the question, “What are YOU dressed-up for?” being asked. “Sure, why not?” he said. God, he liked this girl... maybe that was why he wasn't paranoid and worried. She was nice, confident and even a little goofy. He liked her, and would bet money that the girl on the dance floor-still grinding with the guys-wouldn't be likeable at all.
“You're in luck; I happen to be a vegetarian,” Mindy said, adding a waggling of her eyebrows.
“Hah. Riiight...” Zeke said. Now, he was blushing and looking away.
“So-do you dance?” she asked.
“Oh, um... no. I wouldn't subject you or anyone else to that.”
“Good, neither do I. For the same reasons.”
Zeke snorted and turned back to her. “So, we end up at a club and we don't dance. Thank Christ there's no cover charge, this would be a waste,” he said.
“They have a sweet deck, wanna get some fresh air?” Mindy asked.
Though their cigarettes would cancel out that 'fresh air', Zeke shrugged, nodded and followed her through the club to the large double-doors on the other side. Many people bopping around had bumped into him, but he smiled through it until they got outside. The girl was right; the second-floor deck was huge, chairs, tables, potted plants all around with strings of multi-colored lights above. Zeke nodded in approval as Mindy found them an empty picnic table close to the fencing overlooking the street. Though it was chilly, the heat from the club full of sweaty dancers and cramped spaces stuck around. “Yea, this is cool,” he said as he sat down next to her.
“I've only been here once, last week... but it's already my fave place,” Mindy said.
“Couldn't tell you the last time I went to a club,” Zeke said.
“Yea?”
“Mmm.” Zeke sipped his beer, smacked his lips then stared out over the street full of cars and Friday-nighters. “I've never been big on 'em, really.”
“But you came tonight...?” Mindy said with a bright smile. “I'm glad you did. The drinks are mad-fucking expensive...”
Zeke chortled and turned to her. “Hey man, next round's on you.”
“Aw, don't ruin it!”
Still chuckling, Zeke watched as she sipped from her half-empty glass. 'Or is it half-full?' he thought at the same time he wondered what it'd be like, closing the space between them and kissing her. Would she let him, or throw the rest of her Zeke-bought drink in his face and yell, “What kind of girl do you TAKE me for, you brute?!” He wasn't going to chance it, of course, but it felt nice to wonder.
“So, where do you go to school?” Mindy asked. Zeke blinked and stared at her.
“Oh. Not in school, no... but... thanks,” he said. The ego-boost never failed to kick-in at times like these.
“Oh. What, you just left or didn't go?”
Sighing, Zeke shook his head and grinned. “I'm twenty-eight.”
The look of surprise Mindy wore was comical. “Serious? Wow, I figured we'd just never run into each other on campus,” she said. “I thought you were MY age.”
“Like I said, 'thanks for that,” Zeke said with a wink. “Where do you go?”
“Connecticut College; few towns that way, in New London.”
Zeke perked up, hearing this. “Yea, I know, that's where...” he stopped dead; the cold around them reached him, now. Mindy raised her eyebrows.
“You went there back in the 'old days'?” she joked.
'He could be her fucking teacher,' Zeke thought as he sank forward a little. “No. 'From Ohio, originally.”
“Yea? What made you move out here?”
It was no use. Zeke rubbed the back of his neck, head turned to Mindy but his eyes set on the potted plant in the corner nearby. “Connecticut let me marry my boyfriend,” he admitted, lifting his hand to show off his ring. Mindy stared at it a few moments, then looked to him. Any moment now, she'd be rolling her eyes, muttering, ain't that the way? and storming off.
“Aw...”
Zeke darted his eyes to her face and sat straighter. The smile she wore was wide, cheeks gone almost as pink as her outfit. “Yea,” he said.
“Just needed to get away a bit, huh?” Mindy asked, still smiling kindly.
“No. No, not... really. Sorry if I gave you, y'know... ideas,” Zeke told her.
The girl shrugged, sipped the last of her drink and said, “I WAS a bit hopeful. But hey, it's not like I'm gonna get some angry man on my doorstep tomorrow morning, yelling for HIS man, right?”
“Still. If you wanna case-out the joint, feel free,” Zeke said. He looked to her and made a meek, sweet smile. “I just wanted to see what buying a girl a drink would feel like.”
With an, “Aw...” Mindy pulled her knees up and rested her elbows on them. “N'aw. I don't feel like going back in yet. The place is full of 'no cover' douchebags 'til after ten, anyway.”
“Hey, waitaminute...”
“You were the first guy who's ever bought me a drink.” Mindy gave him another wink and added, “You're the exception.”
~*~
No lights were on in the house, but Zeke could see the flashing of the TV through the windows as he went up to the front door. Once inside, he crept to the archway leading into the living room and smiled. There on the couch sat Casey, drinking a glass of cola, a blanket-covered, sleeping Torrin lying his head in his lap. “Hey,” Zeke murmured.
“Hey, back.” Casey smiled and patted Torrin's head. “This kid thinks he's sooo slick.”
“Whattaya mean?”
“He came downstairs, saying-and I quote, 'I had a nightmare did you pop popcorn what're you watchin'?'” Casey said with no pauses. As Zeke chuckled, Casey shook his head. “I stayed on the safe side and let him stay up with me, but next time, he gets five minutes of daddy-time in his room then sucks-it-up.”
“Aw,” Zeke cooed. When Casey say up and try to wake Torrin, Zeke stepped forth. “Lemmee get him upstairs.”
“Okay... ah...” Casey moaned as Zeke lifted Torrin carefully from the couch. “My leg fell asleep...”
“I got it,” Zeke said. Putting their son's head on his shoulder and making sure his bear was tucked between them, Zeke went to the stairs, climbed and got into Torrin's room. At times, he'd frown and wonder where the crib had gone before realizing their boy was growing up. Torrin was brought over to the twin-sized bed they'd gotten for him over the summer, set him down and pulled the blankets over him. Though Torrin made soft mumbles, he quieted and curled up to get warm. Zeke stayed for a moment or two, watching his son's chest go up and down slowly. “'Night, kiddo,” Zeke whispered, placed a kiss on Torrin's forehead then left the room, leaving the door cracked-open.
Back downstairs, the TV was still on but Casey was in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher. Zeke stood against the doorjamb, watching him. Here it was, just past midnight and he was doing chores. Casey glanced up, smiled and asked, “So, how was the new club?”
“It was a club,” Zeke replied blandly.
“Disappointing? I've never been into 'em, myself,” Casey said.
“Yea...” Zeke looked off to the side at the cork-board, staring at the 'Emergency' list of numbers they kept there for Claire. At the top was Casey's cell and office number-Connecticut College, where Mindy went.
“I'm majoring in English, but a lot of my classes are in his building. I'll have to keep an eye out-is he cute?”
Zeke looked back to Casey, who was kneeling down to get something from the bottom of the washer. Even with him grunting and bitching about a fork being stuck, having to dig through water stains and build-up...
“No. He's gorgeous.” He kept his favorite picture of Casey in his wallet, one he'd taken of Casey at the beach with Torrin in his lap; one he'd proudly showed Mindy. “Casey?”
“Yea? UGH, that hole in the silverware thing, it's--”
“Casey. Stop a sec.” Zeke stood straighter as Casey looked to him. Words escaped Zeke; Casey frowned through the silence.
“What?”
Sighing, Zeke stepped over and leaned on the sink. “I don't say it enough-'I love you', do I?”
A smile spread over Casey's face. “Yea, ya do,” he said as he stood. “Even if you didn't, I know.”
“I should say it more, though.”
“Zeke...” Casey shut the dishwasher door and gave Zeke a deep, penetrating stare. “...What's wrong?”
All Zeke wanted to do now was say, “Nothing,” smile and take Casey upstairs to the bedroom-make up for his mind and heart's wandering in the last week, maybe more, without words. But if he did that, he knew that wandering and wondering would return, perhaps harder and longer than the first time. “Do you ever... wonder what it would've been like if I hadn't been your first?” he asked. “Like, I'm all you've ever had, or known. Do you?”
“Not... really,” Casey replied. “Why?”
Zeke rubbed the side of his neck, stretching it to the side as he said, “You were MY first, when it came to guys... I hit a vein this week. A weird one.”
“A vein?”
“I started thinking of girls,” Zeke said-there. Out. He looked to Casey, not knowing what to expect. When all Casey did was stare, Zeke went on, “When I went out last week, I got hit on by this chick who bought me a drink. I told her I was married, and she made out like it didn't have to matter.”
“Um...” Casey put his head to the side, staring at Zeke edgewise. That look was reserved for suspicion and doubt, which Zeke recognized all-too-well; he shook his head in firm, slow movements.
“I didn't. I wouldn't, not in a million. Don't worry.”
“'K, I figured... but... thinking of girls...”
“You know all about me, like I said, you were my first. First guy, meaning. But that girl made me think of shit; my past, y'know? And I got to wondering... if I really didn't get anything out of being with a girl anymore,” Zeke explained. He gave Casey a careful, tentative gaze. “I'm... just admitting shit, cos' I want you to know, y'know?”
“Yea, I do,” Casey replied softly.
Christ, Zeke was a lucky guy. The inching-along toward a resolution to this picked up some speed, knowing that he was safe. “Not gonna lie, I was getting a little freaked-out about it, wondering if I lean more toward being bi, if women DO have a hold on me somehow... the morning I woke up stupid-early? I looked up a fuck-ton of porn. Straight porn,” he said. Besides Casey taking a deep breath and letting it out slower than usual, moving to lean on the counter next to Zeke, the young man said nothing, letting Zeke continue. “And tits-they DO something to me. It was like, that's this one bit my brain really hasn't let go of. So I confess, 'k? I sat around for a couple hours looking at every tit I could before you guys got up.”
“Oh... 'kay,” Casey replied haltingly.
“You pissed?”
“No. But...” Casey bit his lip, looked away a moment then muttered, “...What happened tonight, at the club?”
Zeke made a tiny shrug and folded his arms over his chest. “Watched a few girls-this one dancing, she was totally... letting everyone know what she'd let any guy do to her with how she was acting, dressed. Got me a little hot. Then this other girl sat next to me.” Zeke had to smile, even if Casey was worried. “I bought her a drink, we sat around, hung out... and I liked her. Really liked her.”
“What kind of 'like' are we talking about?” Casey said, his voice firmer than before.
“As in, 'she was a really nice person' like. Cute? Hells yea. Sexy? In a fae way, definitely. But I liked her. After having a chick get up on me knowing I was married, looking at gratuitous sex-shit online and watching girls dance like hookers, she was... different,” Zeke said. “So instead of trying to live out this weird, 'I'm just looking' fantasy where she starts thinking she's gonna take me back to her place, I told her I was married. To a guy.”
“What'd... she say?” Casey asked.
“A lot. We sat around and talked and talked and talked... we smoked a pack-and-a-half, one after the other. Instead of taking-off to find an unattached straight guy, we hung out together until I left,” Zeke said. “She goes to your school-initially thought I was a student, too.”
“Oh, great...” Casey rolled his eyes and made a tiny smirk. “...Like you need to get your ego boosted like that, you're bad enough when you look in the mirror.”
“Can't be helped, sorry,” Zeke said, even running his hand through what he considered the best hair on the planet. Casey again rolled his eyes and went back to the dishwasher.
“Well good, glad you sorted this shit out. You wanna help me get this stupid fork out of--”
Before Casey could open the washer's door, Zeke reached over, took his wrist and pulled him back. “You don't get it,” he said.
“Get what?” Casey asked.
Zeke hissed a deep breath in then let it out slowly; he put one hand to the side of Casey's head and smoothed his thumb over the man's temple. Putting their noses together, he whispered, “After all my stupid bullshit I put myself through, I hit another vein. One that makes me want to marry you all over again.”
Casey's cheeks went pink... as pink as Mindy's eyeshadow. “You're... all romance right now, huh?”
“Something else I gotta do more,” Zeke said.
“You do, Zeke, really...” Casey went to say, but Zeke stopped him with a soft, smooth kiss. Casey melted into it immediately; Zeke made it worthwhile, keeping it slow, quiet-romance. It brought him back to when he'd asked Casey if he wanted to move to Connecticut where they could get married, just over seven years before. It'd been a mere mention over a bag of chips and a ridiculous infomercial for exercise equipment, instead of hiring a song-and-dance troupe in the middle of Disney World, where the world around could pay witness to just how much Zeke loved this young man. He broke the kiss in feeling sudden shame over his not giving that very important proposal the respect it'd deserved.
When Casey released a long-held breath and looked at Zeke through half-lidded eyes, Zeke figured, better late than never. Smiling as if he was apologizing, he bent down to one knee, took the hand wearing the wedding ring and kissed it. “Will you marry me, again?”
For a moment, all Casey did was stare, until he let a puff of chuckles escape. “What, like-get another ceremony together, stress-out over finding an agnostic who can do a legal--”
“Why the fuck not?” Zeke interrupted.
“Zeke... if you're trying to make up for not doing this on a Tahitian vacation on a live-streaming online youtube... thing...” Casey gave Zeke's hands a squeeze and he smiled wide. “The way you'd proposed was you. Just, so you. I tell everyone how it happened.”
“For a laugh, yea. I ain't laughing now, neither are you. So. Mind giving me an answer before my fucking knee cramps-up?”
Casey made a heavy sigh and his grin went even wider. “Well... okay,” he replied. “Now get up.”
“Good.” Zeke pushed himself up, finding that it wasn't easy. Casey chuckled and helped, taking his arm to pull Zeke back onto his feet. Instead of Casey leaping into his arms, kissing the life out of him, the young man stepped back.
“NOW will you help me get the fucking fork outta the washer?”
Little fucker. Having had enough of domestic bullshit, Zeke sniffed, grabbed Casey's waist with both arms then flung him over his shoulder in one swift move. Casey yelped and kicked his feet up as Zeke turned to the doorway leading to the front. “Zeke!!” Casey cried out past wheezing and laughter.
“Fuck the fork, we're taking this celebrations upstairs,” Zeke said.
“Zeke, for god's sake--”
“Shush, boy... don't wake the kid up, not fuckin' now.”
“My god... you're...”
Casey never finished, choosing to sigh and allow Zeke to bring him upstairs to the bedroom. Moments after being tossed on the bed, Casey let go of the aloof attitude, eye-rolling and sarcasm all fleeing the scene to enjoy just exactly how much Zeke loved his small but fierce body, no icky girl-bits needed.