The Transitive Property of Attraction Part 9
Pete spent a second night in Henry's bed. Henry had relented without much of a fight. It was hard to turn down a friendly, warm body at the best of times, and Henry was not having the best of times. Pete didn't make any more advances, but he gave Henry a chaste kiss good night before settling in for an evening of blanket stealing, snoring and pressing his near-constant erection against any available portion of Henry's body. Henry spent most of the night awake and painfully sober. He was taking the painkillers properly, and it was terrible. The physical pain was bearable, but the pills were doing nothing to ease the constant pounding in his head or the stress that was causing it.
Henry watched four AM come and go before he finally fell asleep. When he woke up, it was to a cheese sandwich, gazing at him with olives for eyes and a mayonnaise smile.
"You hardly got any food here," Pete explained. "I was going to go to the store, but I felt funny leaving you here, sleeping. You looked like you were having a rough time."
Henry dimly remembered dreaming that Pete was pregnant and that Henry had gotten a job translating at the French consulate, even though he only knew a handful of words. It was safe to say his stress had crept into his dreams.
"I'm fine, Pete. Enjoy your day off. You can be my nurse tomorrow at work. You don't have to do it on the weekends as well."
Pete twisted his mouth into his 'I'm thinking hard' face.
"Can I ask a question, Stitch? And you'll be honest?"
Henry stared at his sandwich as he nodded. He had no intention of being honest, but he'd say anything to appease Pete and hopefully get him to go home. Henry was dying for some serious pain relief, and his rib was the least of his problems.
"Are you putting me off 'cause you think I can't..." Pete was grappling for a word, and Henry was approaching a full-blown panic attack. "Well, do the things you need? 'Cause I been thinking about it..."
"Pete, please go home and leave me alone," Henry was aiming for authoritative but it just sounded like a whine. "I love you, but I can't deal with your craziness right now."
Pete only responded to the part where Henry said, "I love you." The rest of his words fell on deaf ears.
"I love you, too, Stitch," Pete cried before hugging Henry so enthusiastically he nearly knocked the sandwich out of his hands. "You'll see. It's all going to work out fine. I been thinking about us..."
"I've been thinking, as well," Henry interjected. "About how your first girlfriend was sick and how you suddenly want to be my boyfriend, now that I'm injured."
"That's not true."
"It's absolutely true! You think you broke me and you want to fix me..." Henry watched Pete squirm, confirming his theory. "But I can't be fixed. No amount of soup is going to make me better than I am right now. I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do. I'm sure I've meant every word I've slurred into your ear while I've been pissed, but I'm the wrong project for you. Honestly, Pete. Do you think you need another hopeless case?"
Pete was sitting on the side of Henry's bed, kicking his feet like a child. Henry ate his amazingly tasty sandwich as Pete chewed over Henry's words. He was just about to ask where Pete had gotten the flavored mayonnaise when the boy finally spoke.
"Charles scared me that first night. Honestly, I didn't even know you liked boys before he told me you two were lovers. He kept talking about things you liked, and I just felt stupid. I never did any of those things. Me and Jane did things, but we didn't... you know."
Henry nodded that he knew. He'd had a fairly vanilla sex life before Charles. Even if he cut Charles out of his life completely, he would always haunt Henry's bedroom.
"I guess that's why I started up with Poppy," Pete continued. "I kept thinking about all the things I'd never done, and how you thought I was like a little kid."
The sandwich was suddenly churning in Henry's stomach. The idea that he'd been the reason Pete needed an imaginary girlfriend had never crossed his mind. If anything, he'd seen Poppy as a defense to keep Henry at bay.
"Pete... you know I wasn't in cahoots with Charles, right? I wasn't trying to set something up. That was all him. I'm sorry I left you alone with him, but I thought he'd realize you were straight and leave you alone. He doesn't usually chase after straight boys."
"As soon as you left us alone, Charles asked if we were... fucking," Pete whispered the word like he was speaking to his school mistress, rather than a friend. "I told him we weren't even really mates, that I was trying, but you just saw me as a kid. Then he started telling me about... things I could do to get your attention. I was a little freaked out, and then as soon as you opened the bathroom door, he started kissing my neck and it was well awkward. I talked to Poppy about it... I mean, I thought about it, and I think it was all just for you. I think he was trying to scare me away and make you like me even less 'cause he wants you all to himself, but he ain't willing to put the work in."
"He wasn't trying to scare you away, Pete. He was trying to get a leg over."
Pete's eyes were saucer-like as he vehemently shook his head.
"He weren't interested in me... Well, maybe he was interested, but... it was always really about you."
It was a nice idea, that Henry inspired strong feelings in Charles, or anyone, for that matter. It would be easy to lose himself in Pete's fantasy world and pretend Henry was in high demand. He didn't pull away when Pete pressed a kiss to his cheek. He was passive as Pete kissed his jawline and neck, his hands never straying below Henry's waist, but still exploring and eager.
Henry pulled Pete into his bed, wrapping them both in his duvet as they exchanged gentle kisses. It somehow felt absurdly innocent.
Like Pete Sweet.
xxx
Henry and Pete went shopping and filled Henry's shelves with sugary cereals and his refrigerator with fizzy drinks. He bought everything Pete wanted, feeling like a pedophile trying to lure his wide-eyed friend into the back of a van.
In reality, Henry was offering no threat to Pete. At least not of the sexual variety. An hour of snogging had led to nothing but one fleeting squeeze of Pete's arse. Henry was horny, frustrated, confused and craving another cheese sandwich. Pete had promised to make him a whole line of flavored mayonnaise.
"Gram always said life's in the details, and condiments are details. Don't take much to make it special, but most people never think about it. They just settle for what's there."
"Did she say the bit about the mayo, or was that your observation?"
Pete laughed. "I added the part about the condiments, but I know she'd agree. She was a wise nana."
"So her name was Jane?" Henry blurted out before he had time to chicken out. "Your girl?"
Pete looked heartbroken and giddy at the same time.
"She was genius, Stitch. I called her Glamorous Jane, cause she were the opposite of a Plain Jane. And she called me Sweet Pete."
Henry put his hand on Pete's shoulder. "Is that why you came to my kiosk?"
Pete laughed with tears shining in his eyes. "It was like a sign. It was an actual sign, but it was also a symbolic sign, too. I didn't know what to do with myself, and then there was a sign that said 'Sweet Music,' and then 'Help Wanted'. Then I saw you."
Henry tried to imagine how he'd looked to Pete that day. Tall. Scruffy. Handsome? Plain?
"You looked so sad. I just wanted to make you happy," Pete continued.
"I wasn't sad. Bored, maybe."
"Maybe," Pete agreed, but he looked unconvinced. "I guess I wanted to make you not bored."
"You succeeded," Henry replied with absolute sincerity.
Pete wrapped his arms around Henry and took a deep breath. "I like how you smell."
Henry watched four AM come and go before he finally fell asleep. When he woke up, it was to a cheese sandwich, gazing at him with olives for eyes and a mayonnaise smile.
"You hardly got any food here," Pete explained. "I was going to go to the store, but I felt funny leaving you here, sleeping. You looked like you were having a rough time."
Henry dimly remembered dreaming that Pete was pregnant and that Henry had gotten a job translating at the French consulate, even though he only knew a handful of words. It was safe to say his stress had crept into his dreams.
"I'm fine, Pete. Enjoy your day off. You can be my nurse tomorrow at work. You don't have to do it on the weekends as well."
Pete twisted his mouth into his 'I'm thinking hard' face.
"Can I ask a question, Stitch? And you'll be honest?"
Henry stared at his sandwich as he nodded. He had no intention of being honest, but he'd say anything to appease Pete and hopefully get him to go home. Henry was dying for some serious pain relief, and his rib was the least of his problems.
"Are you putting me off 'cause you think I can't..." Pete was grappling for a word, and Henry was approaching a full-blown panic attack. "Well, do the things you need? 'Cause I been thinking about it..."
"Pete, please go home and leave me alone," Henry was aiming for authoritative but it just sounded like a whine. "I love you, but I can't deal with your craziness right now."
Pete only responded to the part where Henry said, "I love you." The rest of his words fell on deaf ears.
"I love you, too, Stitch," Pete cried before hugging Henry so enthusiastically he nearly knocked the sandwich out of his hands. "You'll see. It's all going to work out fine. I been thinking about us..."
"I've been thinking, as well," Henry interjected. "About how your first girlfriend was sick and how you suddenly want to be my boyfriend, now that I'm injured."
"That's not true."
"It's absolutely true! You think you broke me and you want to fix me..." Henry watched Pete squirm, confirming his theory. "But I can't be fixed. No amount of soup is going to make me better than I am right now. I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do. I'm sure I've meant every word I've slurred into your ear while I've been pissed, but I'm the wrong project for you. Honestly, Pete. Do you think you need another hopeless case?"
Pete was sitting on the side of Henry's bed, kicking his feet like a child. Henry ate his amazingly tasty sandwich as Pete chewed over Henry's words. He was just about to ask where Pete had gotten the flavored mayonnaise when the boy finally spoke.
"Charles scared me that first night. Honestly, I didn't even know you liked boys before he told me you two were lovers. He kept talking about things you liked, and I just felt stupid. I never did any of those things. Me and Jane did things, but we didn't... you know."
Henry nodded that he knew. He'd had a fairly vanilla sex life before Charles. Even if he cut Charles out of his life completely, he would always haunt Henry's bedroom.
"I guess that's why I started up with Poppy," Pete continued. "I kept thinking about all the things I'd never done, and how you thought I was like a little kid."
The sandwich was suddenly churning in Henry's stomach. The idea that he'd been the reason Pete needed an imaginary girlfriend had never crossed his mind. If anything, he'd seen Poppy as a defense to keep Henry at bay.
"Pete... you know I wasn't in cahoots with Charles, right? I wasn't trying to set something up. That was all him. I'm sorry I left you alone with him, but I thought he'd realize you were straight and leave you alone. He doesn't usually chase after straight boys."
"As soon as you left us alone, Charles asked if we were... fucking," Pete whispered the word like he was speaking to his school mistress, rather than a friend. "I told him we weren't even really mates, that I was trying, but you just saw me as a kid. Then he started telling me about... things I could do to get your attention. I was a little freaked out, and then as soon as you opened the bathroom door, he started kissing my neck and it was well awkward. I talked to Poppy about it... I mean, I thought about it, and I think it was all just for you. I think he was trying to scare me away and make you like me even less 'cause he wants you all to himself, but he ain't willing to put the work in."
"He wasn't trying to scare you away, Pete. He was trying to get a leg over."
Pete's eyes were saucer-like as he vehemently shook his head.
"He weren't interested in me... Well, maybe he was interested, but... it was always really about you."
It was a nice idea, that Henry inspired strong feelings in Charles, or anyone, for that matter. It would be easy to lose himself in Pete's fantasy world and pretend Henry was in high demand. He didn't pull away when Pete pressed a kiss to his cheek. He was passive as Pete kissed his jawline and neck, his hands never straying below Henry's waist, but still exploring and eager.
Henry pulled Pete into his bed, wrapping them both in his duvet as they exchanged gentle kisses. It somehow felt absurdly innocent.
Like Pete Sweet.
xxx
Henry and Pete went shopping and filled Henry's shelves with sugary cereals and his refrigerator with fizzy drinks. He bought everything Pete wanted, feeling like a pedophile trying to lure his wide-eyed friend into the back of a van.
In reality, Henry was offering no threat to Pete. At least not of the sexual variety. An hour of snogging had led to nothing but one fleeting squeeze of Pete's arse. Henry was horny, frustrated, confused and craving another cheese sandwich. Pete had promised to make him a whole line of flavored mayonnaise.
"Gram always said life's in the details, and condiments are details. Don't take much to make it special, but most people never think about it. They just settle for what's there."
"Did she say the bit about the mayo, or was that your observation?"
Pete laughed. "I added the part about the condiments, but I know she'd agree. She was a wise nana."
"So her name was Jane?" Henry blurted out before he had time to chicken out. "Your girl?"
Pete looked heartbroken and giddy at the same time.
"She was genius, Stitch. I called her Glamorous Jane, cause she were the opposite of a Plain Jane. And she called me Sweet Pete."
Henry put his hand on Pete's shoulder. "Is that why you came to my kiosk?"
Pete laughed with tears shining in his eyes. "It was like a sign. It was an actual sign, but it was also a symbolic sign, too. I didn't know what to do with myself, and then there was a sign that said 'Sweet Music,' and then 'Help Wanted'. Then I saw you."
Henry tried to imagine how he'd looked to Pete that day. Tall. Scruffy. Handsome? Plain?
"You looked so sad. I just wanted to make you happy," Pete continued.
"I wasn't sad. Bored, maybe."
"Maybe," Pete agreed, but he looked unconvinced. "I guess I wanted to make you not bored."
"You succeeded," Henry replied with absolute sincerity.
Pete wrapped his arms around Henry and took a deep breath. "I like how you smell."