Violated (13 page)

Russ didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded.

“I’m sorry. I’m dumping my shit on you again, aren’t I?”

“I asked if anything was wrong.”

“Yeah… still….” He shifted in his chair and made a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “So how have you been the past couple weeks?”

Russ smirked at him. “Ah. The subtle change of subject.”

“You like that?”

“Very expertly done.” He sat back in his chair and said, “Well, I kinda met a guy….”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah. He’s…. really hot.”

“Cool.” Derek seemed fascinated by the top of his beer bottle, as if he was debating trying to use it as a whistle.

“I’m not sure it’ll last long, though.”

“Really? Why not?”

Russ shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I feel like it’s… like he’s just using me for sex. You know?”

Derek laughed, but it sounded unenthusiastic. “A lot of guys would think that was fine.”

“Not me. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Sex is great. But that shouldn’t be
all
there is.” For some reason, this conversation seemed to be getting Derek down again. He was picking at the label on his beer bottle, intently focused on it, and his expression looked miserable. So Russ tried to lighten it up a bit. “Besides, he’s one of those guys who refuses to be fucked, so I always have to be on the bottom. He’s wearing my asshole out.” He laughed at his own joke, but he was dismayed to find Derek looking at him now with an expression of bewilderment. “Uh… sorry. I guess that’s more information than you wanted.”

“You take it up the ass?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well… not ‘of course.’ I mean, a lot of guys would never do that.”

“Oh,” Russ said, wondering if he’d just plummeted in Derek’s estimation. But Jesus! It wasn’t some big horrible thing to get fucked once in a while. Why should it matter? “So you haven’t, then.”

Again, there was an odd hesitation. Derek shrugged. “Do you like it?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, it’s kind of messy and uncomfortable, so I don’t do it that much.”

“So you don’t like it.”

“It kind of depends on the mood I’m in.” He squinted at Derek. “Is this really a big deal for you?”

Derek squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “I… I know some guys like it. Tim does. But he’s not exactly….”

He trailed off, but Russ wasn’t willing to leave it there. He needed to know what the big deal was, especially if it affected Derek’s view of him. “He’s not exactly what?”

“You know. A
manly
guy.”

“So it’s okay for him because he isn’t masculine?”

“I guess.”

“But you don’t think I should be doing it.”

Derek wasn’t looking good. It was a hot night, but not hot enough to explain how much he was sweating. His face had gone from pale to practically white, and he’d drawn his legs up close to his body, as if he were pulling in on himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound so judgmental.”

“That’s okay.”

“It’s just my fucked-up childhood again….”

“Your childhood?”

“My asshole of a stepfather pretty much pounded it into me—a man doesn’t… let anyone do that to him.”

“I would think a man could make his own decisions about his body. Isn’t that part of being a man? Responsibility?”

“I guess.”

Russ shrugged again. “Look, it feels good if you’re in the mood for it. But not everybody likes it—not every
man
likes it. I don’t like it all the time. But are you seriously telling me you don’t think I’m a ‘real man’ because I let Ian fuck me?”

“No.” Derek looked majorly distressed now. He was gritting his teeth as if he were in pain. “I’m sorry.”

Russ sighed and shook his head. He was blowing things out of proportion. Derek hadn’t actually accused him of anything or insulted him. “It’s okay. Forget it.”

“You’re one of the coolest guys I’ve met, and I’m totally insulting you. I’m such a fucking loser.”

That seemed an odd thing to say. Certainly, it was overreacting to the situation. “Dude….” Russ looked at Derek a bit more closely and realized something
was
wrong. Derek was rocking in his chair slightly and his breathing was hoarse. “Derek?”

He reached out to touch Derek’s arm and the man violently flinched back from his hand.

“Dude… you look like you’re having a panic attack.”

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

Russ had dealt with this type of situation before. He switched gears from next-door neighbor to police officer without even thinking about it. “It’s okay, Derek.
You’re
okay. You’re safe here.” It had been a mistake to touch Derek in this state, but he hadn’t realized what was happening. “I’m your friend. You didn’t upset me. Everything’s fine.”

Derek raised his beer as if to take a drink, but then he screwed up his face in disgust and the bottle waivered.

“Do you want me to take that from you?”

“I’m gonna puke.”

“We’ll deal with it if you do. I’m not gonna leave you. Just try to breathe slowly.” Russ quietly took hold of the beer bottle without touching Derek’s hand, and Derek allowed him to take it. Russ set it on the deck between them. “Now I’d like you to count with me. We’re gonna count down from a hundred. Okay? One hundred…. Say it with me.”

“One hundred.”

“Ninety-nine….” He kept going, verbally nudging Derek whenever he stopped counting along.

When they reached one, Derek took a slow, deep breath. After a long silence, he said, “I think I’m feeling okay again.”

“Just take a minute. There’s no hurry.” Russ was puzzled by why discussing anal sex had brought on such a strong reaction. That stepfather must have been a piece of work. He wondered briefly whether Derek was able to be on top, since he’d said Tim liked being on the receiving end, but he didn’t like the spark of jealousy that accompanied the thought. It was none of his goddamn business, anyway.

“I think I’m okay,” Derek said, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He let out a long sigh. “Jesus. I’m such a fucking mess.”

“A lot of people have panic attacks,” Russ assured him. “It’s not a big deal.”

Derek laughed bitterly. “Like anal sex?”

“Maybe we should discuss something else.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Derek tried to smile. “Anything I said… if it sounded like I was looking down on you… I didn’t mean it. Really.”

“It’s cool.
We’re
cool.”

“I think I can sleep now. It’s getting light.”

Russ glanced out at the lake and was dismayed to see the sky lightening behind the pine trees on the eastern shore.
Jesus
. Morning already. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

Despite that, Derek looked pretty wobbly when he got up from his chair, and Russ jumped up to steady him with a hand on his elbow. Derek pulled his elbow out of his grasp.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I can manage on my own now.” He swayed a moment, but then he took another deep breath and seemed to bring himself under control. “Thanks for lookin’ out for me.”

He leaned in close as if he were about to kiss Russ. Then he pulled away, his eyes wide. “Sorry!” he said hurriedly. “I guess I’m still a little out of it.”

“No problem,” Russ said, still intensely aware of the warmth of Derek’s breath on his lips for that one split second and the stirring it had caused in his groin. He wasn’t sure if the sweatpants were hiding the rapid swelling of his cock, since he hadn’t bothered with underwear, and he was afraid if he glanced down he’d just draw attention to it. He tried to smile. “Guess you mixed me up with Tim for a second.”

Derek looked at him intently for a moment. His muttered “No” was so quiet Russ wasn’t even sure he’d heard it. He turned abruptly and walked to the door, calling back over his shoulder, “Come on inside, Gracie.”

The screen door closed, and Russ found himself abandoned on the deck—except for Max. He sighed and said, “Let’s go home, boy.”

Then he headed for the path. It was a good thing he had tomorrow off too. He was fucking exhausted. Not that he minded helping Derek out—the poor guy had been a wreck, for whatever reason. But after that almost kiss, it would be miserable going back to his bed alone.

D
EREK
SLEPT
until noon. Gracie wasn’t happy about it—normally he was up at seven to let her out to pee. She’d been able to relieve herself when they got up at 4:00 a.m., but still, the radical change to her morning schedule made her cranky. Derek couldn’t blame her.

He’d brought some food with him to the cabin, since they hadn’t left anything behind that might spoil—bread, eggs, bacon, donuts, orange juice—plenty for a decent breakfast. Never mind that it was noon. As he was digging around in the cupboards for the frying pan, it occurred to him that maybe he could offer to feed Russ too. After that hellish night… and that almost
kiss
…. Christ. That had to have freaked the guy out.

Hell, it freaked
me
out. What the fuck was I thinking?
He
hadn’t
been thinking. That was the problem. For a moment he’d felt as if he and Russ had been together forever. There had been nothing sexual in the moment, but it had felt so natural to seek comfort from him, as if he always had. Considering how distant he and Tim had been growing since he returned from Tampa, it felt almost as if he’d cheated. But he hadn’t. Nothing had happened. Not really.

Well… perhaps just enough to make Russ uncomfortable

Would it be even weirder to invite him over for breakfast or lunch? Derek wasn’t sure, but he felt some kind of apology was in order, at the very least. He’d have to make it clear he wasn’t coming on to Russ or anything like that. It was just a friendly gesture to try to make up for keeping the poor guy up all night and dumping on him.
Again
. Not to mention that… what? Russ had called it a panic attack. Whatever it had been, it wasn’t the kind of thing a casual friend should have to deal with in the wee hours of the morning.

I’ll call him. Nothing weird—just an offer of breakfast to apologize
.

Except he didn’t have Russ’s number. He’d have to walk down the hill and hope that Russ wouldn’t mind him showing up on his doorstep after last night’s melodrama. He debated it for a few minutes. Russ might still be sleeping, in which case waking him up would probably piss him off. But he might not come back up the path today if he didn’t need to drive anywhere. What if he was awake and sitting in his living room, wondering what the fuck Derek had meant by almost kissing him last night? Didn’t he deserve an explanation—assuming Derek had one—or at least an apology?

He finally decided to just walk down and get it over with.

It wasn’t until he was standing at Russ’s side door that he waffled again. He stood there for a full minute or more, his hand half raised to knock, wondering which was more pathetic—chasing after Russ or avoiding him—until Russ’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Startled, Derek turned to see Russ standing at the edge of his deck, watching him with eyebrows raised. He was wearing nothing but sweats, as he’d been last night, but in the high noon sunlight, his torso looked lean and well-defined, the ripples of his abs highlighted with dark shadows. Derek hadn’t been in much of a state to appreciate it the night before, but now the sight of Russ’s body both appealed to him and made him nervous.

Max peeked around Russ’s legs and, when he saw Derek and Gracie, came running over to greet them.

“Um… I was going to invite you to breakfast… if you haven’t eaten already….”

Russ grinned at him. “Really? ’Cause it looked more like you were staring at my door for the past five minutes.”

It hadn’t been
that
long. “Sorry.”

“What do you got for breakfast?”

Derek shrugged. “A bunch of stuff. I was gonna at least make eggs and bacon.”

“Sounds good to me!”

S
INCE
D
EREK
hadn’t lugged all the food downhill with him, they trekked back to his cabin to make breakfast. It turned out that Russ had just woken up himself and had barely had time to finish a cup of coffee before Derek showed up.

While the bacon was sizzling in the cast-iron skillet, Derek decided to see if he could turn some of the eggs into cheese omelets. He cracked three into a bowl and began whisking them. At last he worked up the courage to say, “I really owe you an apology for last night.”

Russ was sitting on one of the barstools, hunched forward over the bar to watch Derek cook. He laughed. “Dude. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“I kept you up until sunrise.”

“Well, that kind of sucked for both of us,” Russ admitted, “but it was hardly your fault.”

Derek snorted. “What are you talking about? Of course it was my fault. I woke up in the middle of the night and needed looking after like a little kid. It was pretty pathetic.”

“Everyone has a bad night, now and then.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve been having them pretty much
every
night.”

He realized he’d said too much when he saw Russ’s expression change to one of concern. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Derek responded, trying to backpedal. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“When did it start?”

“I don’t know. A week or so ago.”

“Did something happen?”

Derek was sweating now. How the fuck had he gotten himself into this conversation? He was just trying to let Russ know he hadn’t meant to keep him up all night, for fuck’s sake! He set the bowl down on the counter a little harder than he meant to and snatched up the spatula to flip the bacon over. He smiled and said cheerily, “Nothing happened. I just… I’m sorry I kept you up.”

“It’s okay,” Russ said seriously. “Really.”

Derek glanced over at him and saw something in his eyes—something that saw right through his bullshit. It was unsettling, and Derek turned back to the stove, trying to think of something else to say. At last he fell back on “So tell me about this Ian guy you’re dating,” even though he didn’t really want to hear about it.