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Not A Date
Monday night Ryan cooked. He made spaghetti sauce from scratch and homemade meatballs and put it over pasta he gave a fancy Italian name but just looked like little spirals to me. We watched an old black and white foreign film which didn’t make my top ten list because nothing blew up. He acted like it we were just two dudes hanging out, and other than me teasing him with one quiet ribbing of, “Yeah, I know, I wore you out at lunch,” and later the quip, “You gave at the office,” I didn’t push him.
We both slept on our right sides, and we spooned up together in bed, with his hips snuggled firmly against my ass and his tight abs a warm heating pad against my back. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep with the bastion of male hotness literally radiating heat behind me but he threw one heavy arm around my waist and within seconds I was sleeping the sleep of the dead.
I woke up with a sense of deja vu. Warm spot behind me, no Ryan.
“Fuck,” I said sitting up. There was a yellow post-it note by the bedside table. ‘You looked too handsome to wake. I hit the gym. Let yourself out. See you at work. – R.’
I smelled coffee. Really good coffee. Which is the only reason I wasn’t totally pissed as I crumpled the note in my hand. “I’m going to have to teach that asshat some—” I looked at the clock. Fuck. I had about ten minutes before I was going to be late.
FUCK.
I jumped up and ran down to the kitchen. I poured myself a cup of coffee and stood drinking it, naked, while I realized that I had slept so long I didn’t have time to go home for a change of clothes. I’d have to go back to the office in the exact same outfit I wore yesterday. Shit. Wouldn’t that send tongues a waggin’? I looked up at the ceiling and thought of Ryan’s closet. Surely he had something I could wear. He wouldn’t mind would he?
I didn’t have much time to debate how he might feel about me raiding his closet. I ran back upstairs. I decided to go commando. Ryan was bigger than me, and he had a lot more, well, everything. Too much firm round ass for off the rack shit, I was betting big man had his crap tailored. I listened to the soft krkchk-krckchk sound as I frantically pushed hangers around on the pole. His pants were not going to fit me unless I borrowed a pair of sweats. I looked at my own pants in a heap by the bed. They were black, plain, nothing distinctive. They would do. Shirts.
I realized Ryan was broad in the shoulder, how great his chest was, but it wasn’t until I was looking at his shirts that I really got a feel for what being that size would be like. I was in good shape, but I’m built like a normal guy, not some Adonis body builder. I didn’t want to go into the office wearing something where the seams where halfway down my shoulders.
I found a fancy dress shirt in a soft material. I didn’t know what the hell it was, like a combination between silk and velvet or something. It was off-white, it had the very slightest coral-pink-tan tint to it. I bet it was skin-tight and obscene on Ryan, but it would be loose, but still fit and be dressy enough on me.
I didn’t have many other options. I’d wasted too much time deciding. I got dressed and raced to work. Belatedly I had the thought the shirt probably cost as much as my first bike. Then I thought fuck it, if Ryan likes it, it would be worth it. Then I thought I was thinking too much.
I was late. Ryan’s door and blinds were closed.
Around lunchtime there was a staff meeting. Both Ryan and this woman from accounting looked at me and simultaneously said, “Nice shirt.” The woman’s delivery was flirtatious; Ryan’s was dry.
Yeah? Take it off me. I thought, while giving him a very quick, subtle, challenging raise of the eyebrows nobody else saw.
I missed most of the meeting. Okay, all of the meeting. I arranged my face into what I hope was a very definite I-am-paying-close-attention expression and floated back to dream land. Sleeping next to Ryan had been nice. Very nice. I had felt his warm breath on the back of my neck and heard his soft breathing and felt so secure and then… boom… out like a light. I could definitely get used to that.
But gay guys tend to fall into to categories: travel toothbrush and full bathroom drawer. I didn’t know which one Ryan fell into. I darted a discreet glance his way. A guy with his looks could get a lot of miles out of his travel toothbrush.
The meeting ended, and for a second I worried that I might have missed something important. Then I reminded myself that most meetings were waste of time bullshit. Everyone filled out and milled about, leaving in different directions. I heard one guy mumble as he walked away, “Not my ideal vision of how I wanted to spend my lunch time.”
“Me neither,” I whispered to myself. “I can think of other things…” I must have said it with more vehemence than I realized because I heard Ryan’s warm laugh behind me.
He gave me a quick clasp on the shoulder and then silivri escort released me.
“Nah, boss,” I said. “That was actually the best office lunch time I’ve ever had.”
Ryan squinted his eyes at me. Menacing.
“I had better get back to work,” I said, feeling like a teenager and carefully holding back a goofy smile.
“Yes, you’d better,” Ryan said.
I worked hard on getting the advertising perfect for a few new accounts. I tried to think of subtle ways to flirt with Ryan, but there weren’t any opportunities. He left early afternoon to go somewhere and didn’t return to the office.
Hell. I still didn’t have his number.
Tuesday was extremely busy. Ryan ignored me. I wound up tighter as the day went on. I don’t know what I wanted from Ryan, but I wasn’t getting it. I was feeling needy, tense. It wasn’t horny exactly, although God, did I want him. It was something else. I don’t know what exactly.
More practicing of the deep breathing.
Wednesday morning I couldn’t decide whether to dress with extra care or to fuck it. I decided on fuck it.
“Morning Jake,” Ryan said as he walked past me.
“Yo,” I said. That got a smile. Not what I intended, but again, what the fuck. I reminded myself that one non-date, one peel-the-paint-off hotter-than-hell office sex session, and one spaghetti dinner with a sleepover didn’t necessarily mean we were dating. Fucking yes, dating no.
I looked up at his door when it closed.
But I wanted to be dating. I bit the inside of my cheek. I had to find some way… I tapped my pencil, fast and repetitively against the edge of my desk. I often did that when I’d put together a deal or new copy. I should think about my situation from an advertising stand point. Sell the sizzle, not the steak. Maybe I didn’t want dating. Maybe part of me wanted something a hell of a lot more than the word dating implied.
I was biting my pencil when Ryan came out. He just cocked one eyebrow up at me and kept going.
Well fuck. So much for smooth.
I had broken two pencils by the time Ryan got back, but I had a plan.
Little did I know, Ryan had a plan of his own.
“Cortman! My office!”
“Yes, Sir,” I said and walked in. He shut and locked the door behind me. A locked door. I liked that.
He opened his arms, and I walked into them. Aaaah. “Hi, baby,” he whispered in my ear.
“You turn me into a babbling idiot,” I said.
“Nah,” he said. “You were like that before.”
I smiled at him. I brushed my lips against his ear. “How was work this morning?”
“A fucking nightmare,” Ryan said. “Fortunately I have plans for a magnificent lunch.”
“Nuh-uh,” I said. “No more sordid office sex for you until I get a raise.”
“I could give you a rise,” Ryan said. He brushed the back of his hand against my thigh. “But that’s not what I had in mind.”
Ryan went behind his desk and lifted up a picnic basket.
“Where did that come from?” I asked.
“While someone was getting his beauty sleep, I was planning on plying you with the perfect lunch.”
My heart leapt into my throat. It was too soon to fall for this guy.
“Come on,” he said. He led me over to the side of his office, and we sat down on the floor. He opened the picnic basket and began taking out containers. He found what he was looking for. He loaded something onto a pita chip and held it out to me.
“I made this,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Seafood salad.”
I took a bite. “Oh my God, Ryan, this is delicious.”
He was smart, funny, sexy, talented—and he could cook. I pinched him on the bicep.
“What was that for?”
“Just checking,” I said.
He fed me more of that wonderful concoction.
Ryan brushed hair out of my face, caressed my cheek, stared into my eyes like I was the only guy on the planet.
“See,” he said. “All the awful disasters of this morning are washed away. You’re my own little oasis, Jake.”
“I think it’s the seafood salad that’s the oasis.”
Ryan took out a small bottle of sparkling apple cider and two plastic champagne glasses. He poured us drinks, and while I was sipping mine, he said, “We kind of put the cart before the horse, you know, with how I sort of lost control and went all ‘hey I’m the fast and the furious’ from the very beginning of our non-date.”
I tried hard to arrange my expression so it looked like I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, although obviously I did.
“So I was hoping a little romance would make up for that.”
He took out some chocolate-covered strawberries and fed them to me, very slowly, holding each one up with an exaggerated sensuality that hovered right between extremely romantic and comical.
“Mmmn,” I said. “It makes up for it. So now we can have office sex?”
“No.”
He finished off the last of the strawberries, and I watched him lick his fingers.
I’d known Ryan for three years. We’d had hundreds of conversations about work. While we’d şirinevler escort never hung out outside of work before this week, when you work with someone you learn some things about him. I gathered those bits of knowledge around me like a security blanket. It wasn’t nearly enough.
“Ryan, what do I really know about you?”
“You know I’m good in bed.”
“Actually, I’ve never sampled your charms in a bed.”
His voice dropped much lower. “That could be remedied.”
Yowsa.
He leaned in toward me until we were almost nose-to-nose. “As a matter of fact, I can absolutely guarantee you that will be remedied. In short order.”
“Enh,” I said. “And if you’re not up to snuff I can throw you back?”
He raised one questioning eyebrow at me.
I couldn’t keep a straight face. “Just because you can do it on the floor and on a desk doesn’t mean your skills will translate.”
“Well maybe someday you’ll get lucky, and you can find out.” He started packing up the remains of the picnic.
Ryan finished cleaning up, and he gave me a wonderfully sweet kiss. “Will you come camping with me this weekend, baby?”
“Camping?” Yikes.
“Yeah. I have this really beautiful spot where I like to hike and camp, and I’d like to show it to you. I could bring all my gear, and we could make a weekend out of it.”
Double yikes. “You know, Ryan, mankind has spent thousands of years developing creature comforts indoors to get away from camping.”
He made a sour face.
“Sure thing, hot stuff. I’d love to.”
“Great,” Ryan said. “I have to fly to Seattle tonight. Don’t get me started on the craziness the company wants for that job, but I should be back late tomorrow or early Friday. The weather’s supposed to be good; we can leave right after work.”
I did a mental sigh. Camping. “Do I get to bring my iPad so we can watch scary movies and porno?”
He rolled his eyes. “Back to work, slave boy.”
“Fine, fine,” I said. I knew when I was being dismissed. At least I had Friday to look forward to. “So it’s a non-date, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, Cortman, of course, right. It’s a work order.”
*
Friday I brought a change of clothes to work. I found that I was kind of excited by the idea of camping. I’d been camping once with the Boy Scouts and hated it, but Ryan was no Boy Scout.
We drove almost two hours north. Pretty soon we traded Ryan’s jeep for a gentle slope at the base of a mountain. The gentle start seemed good, but I could see it would get steep quickly.
Ryan had on a huge hiker’s pack that extended way above his head to just the top of his ass. Much bigger than my little school-like backpack that just held essentials like change of clothes and lube.
We walked side-by-side for a while. Ryan pointed out different types of trees and flowers. Taking in the sights and smells of the lush forest and walking on the increasingly uneven ground was relaxing and invigorating at the same time.
We stopped when we saw a doe and two baby deer walk across the path only a few feet in front of us.
After a while we fell into an easy silence, and I tried to remember every bit of information I’d gathered about Ryan over the last three years. His grandparents had worked in a bakery. He was really close to his dad. He grew up in a mining town but moved to Boston when he was sixteen.
He was an amazing joke teller. I was pretty good with the witty comebacks, but I couldn’t tell jokes for shit. At last year’s Christmas party Ryan was cracking a small group of us up. I was a little drunk, but I remembered one joke I particularly liked. Was it about an agnostic? How did it go?
I started laughing.
“What?” Ryan asked.
“That joke.”
“Which one?”
“You know, about the agnostic and the insomniac.”
“Oh, that one.”
“How does that go?”
Ryan sighed.
“Come on, tell me again.”
Ryan made a disgusted sound. “We’re in the middle of nature’s most beautiful bounty, and you want me to tell you agnostic jokes?”
“Please, please, pretty, please,” I said, sounding like a five-year-old on purpose.
Ryan arranged his posture and expression in a way I could never do. “What do you get when cross an insomniac, an agnostic, and a dyslexic?”
“I don’t know, what?”
“Someone who stays up all night wondering if there is a dog.”
I cracked up.
“It’s not that funny.”
“It is when you tell it.”
He shook his head and turned around and started hiking again.
We talked about Ryan’s experiences hiking different parts of the country, how he always wanted to draw, how I always thought I would write a movie script, and this year’s Oscar winners and nominees.
“What’s your favorite movie?” he asked me.
“It’s a toss up between Back to the Future and Resident Evil.”
Ryan stopped and turned around. He cocked one eyebrow and mouthed ‘Resident Evil’. Then he grimaced. He turned back around.
“There’s also Die Hard,” şişli escort I said. “That’s a classic.”
He stopped. Just stood there for a second, continued on.
“The Matrix, that’s one of my favorites, the first Blade is great, and the Spiderman movies of course, and ahh… let’s see Anchorman, Talladega Nights, Dumb and Dumber—”
“Okay, okay, Jake, I get it. I think I’ve got the idea now,” Ryan said. “If there’s a chase, explosion, or scatological humor, you’re good.”
“Yup. That about sums it up. What about you?”
“Amélie.”
I racked my brain to figure out what the hell he was talking about. “Isn’t that a French film about some girl on a bicycle?”
“That’s the one.”
I remembered an insurance commercial where the woman said, ‘I unfriend you.’ “Did the bicycle hit a land mine and explode?”
He sighed.
“Nope. Didn’t see it,” I said.
We walked for another 45 minutes. I was beginning to think wherever we were going, it was too far for me. Then trail got much steeper. The good thing about this was that I got to stare at Ryan’s gorgeous ass. Those beautiful firm cheeks in his short blue shorts were very close to my eye level. The bad news was I was getting winded. Time for some stalling.
“You know, it’s too bad your ass is so flat. If you came to the gym with me I could give you some pointers.”
He looked over his shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop.
“Some lunges, squats. Give you some roundness, fill you out a little.”
He snorted. “Wise ass.”
“Wise-judging-ass.”
I reached out and felt his tush below the pack. “I could grade you on your improvement. Just so you know you’re making appropriate gains.”
Now he stopped.
“Listen, if you need a break, just say so. We’re almost there. If you want, I could carry you.”
“Just trying to help you out, bud.”
He snorted again and turned back around.
I smiled at his backside and took a deep breath. Now I had a second wind. I might not be able to tell a joke like Ryan could, but he wasn’t the only one with a sense of humor.
We walked another 100 yards and then crested a hill to face the most breathtaking vista I ever saw.
“Wow, Ryan.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Wow,” I said again.
He put his pack down. I don’t know what I expected but this beautiful lake in a crater with the snow-capped mountains from the shore on the far side reflected on the mirror-like surface wasn’t it. I looked down at the bed of moss I was standing on, and the huge trees around us, and the field of wild flowers to our left. My mouth hung open like an old-fashioned Christmas soldier nutcracker waiting for the world’s largest nut.
Ryan took in my expression and laughed.
“Yeah. That was the expression I was looking for. Man might have been improving indoors for a thousand years, but he’s been searching for perfect ways to escape it for a thousand more.”
I looked around, trying to take in everything.
“Listen,” Ryan said.
I expected silence but there was a cacophony of sound.
“What’s that ka-hik-it?”
“Tree frogs.”
I could hear frogs, birds, squirrels fighting or mating, small animals scampering, and rustling of leaves. The sounds of hundreds of things vibrant with life.
A cool wind blew off the lake.
Ryan put his arm around me.
“Thanks, Ry,” I said.
He gently kissed my cheek. “My pleasure. I found this place about eight years ago. I never brought anyone here before.”
“It’s fantastic,” I said. “Let’s inaugurate it.” I wiggled my eyebrows lewdly.
Ryan shook his head. “Let me set up the tent and the hammock.”
“Hammock?”
He sent me a smile so blinding it made all the scenery disappear.
Ryan unpacked his gear. It was amazing how much stuff he could fit in that large backpack.
“You need any help with the tent?” I asked.
“No. It’s an easy pop-up.”
I watched his efficient movements as he pitched the tent and hung the hammock between two trees. He took off his shirt and used it to wipe his face. I felt a lump in my throat at the sight of him.
Ryan walked to the edge of the lake and stared out. I came up behind him and used my tongue to trace the long sickle-like slashes of black on his back tattoo. He made a soft “mmn” sound. I wrapped my arms around his waist. I grazed my teeth lightly on his shoulder.
“Ryan,” I said softly. Oh God. “Please be my guy.”
He took one of my hands, put his hand over it, and slid it up over his heart. He looked over his shoulder at me. “I thought I already was.”
I shook my head against his shoulder.
“What? You think I have office sex with everybody?”
I shrugged against him.
“No,” Ryan said. “Just the annoying ones.”
I shrugged again.
He turned around in my arms. “Just in case it wasn’t clear. Yes, I’m your guy. You’re my guy. I’m not having office sex with anybody else. Or any other kind of sex.” He kissed the back of my hand and then turned it over and kissed my palm. “I don’t want to have sex with anyone else.” Ryan softly bit the tip of my forefinger. “Only you.”
Holy shit.
I slid my hand to the back of his neck. I kissed him, and as my tongue danced with his, I hoped he could feel not only my passion but my gratitude.
I pulled him toward the tent. He resisted and pulled me to the hammock.
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