Page 62 of Poolside

The final work week before the short holiday had been ruthless. It seemed like every day there had been a fire to put out, and between dealing with issues in the branches and squeezing in his own prep for the promotion interview after the Fourth, Tommy was exhausted and ready for a break.

At least he had the early mornings at the pool, swimming side by side with Chuck. They’d both been focused on making the most of those final days of training, but now there was a new, tangible excitement between them.

It was there in the way Chuck smiled at him when he’d finished a drill. It was there in the way his hand found Chuck’s lower back when they walked through the gate. It was there in glances that lingered and sentences that trailed off, incomplete, when their eyes locked.

They were a pair of adorable idiots, that’s what they were.

Tommy grinned, his left knee bouncing with excitement. He couldn’t wait to get there and put his hands on Chuck’s bony hips, kiss the freckles on his shoulders, and ask how his day had been.

He was going to be the best boyfriendever.

By the time he pulled down the long drive at the stone mailbox, Tommy was starving and he had to piss so badly his stomach was cramped. Chuck’s car was already there, and Tommy parked next to him and grabbed his leather duffel from the backseat.

He let out a relieved breath when he walked in the front door.

“Tommy?” Chuck’s voice called from the direction of the kitchen.

“Gotta piss,” Tommy shouted back, dropping his stuff and running down the hall to the bathroom. Once he’d relieved himself and washed his hands, he walked through the open living room over to the kitchen.

Chuck stood at the counter, his red waves looking particularly disheveled. He wore a t-shirt and cut off jean shorts that reached his mid-thigh. He sang quietly under his breath, his voice warm and beautiful even from that distance.

“Hi,” Tommy said, a little bit hesitant to interrupt his friend’s singing.

Chuck turned, face brightening when he saw Tommy. “You made it.” He crossed the room towards him, a soft smile tugging at his mouth.

Tommy couldn’t help the way his whole body hummed and everything felt a little bit brighter when he looked at Chuck. He probably looked like a fool, smiling so widely his face hurt. “Hey, you.”

Without hesitating, Chuck moved around the counter and walked straight into Tommy’s open arms. Tommy was just short enough that his face was level with the base of Chuck’s neck, and he let himself, for just a moment, sink into the man’s body. A sense of relief filled him, and he squeezed his arms tightly around Chuck’s back even as he let out a loud sigh.

Chuck withdrew first, offering Tommy a smile before he walked back into the kitchen.

Tommy glanced at the covered dishes on the countertop. “You made dinner?”

“Of course I did,” Chuck said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Minutes later, their plates were loaded with grilled brats, roasted potatoes, and a simple mixed green salad. They each grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out to the deck.

The night was warm, the air heavy with humidity. Tommy grabbed a lighter from the kitchen and lit the citronella torches mounted to the railing in the hope that they’d keep some of the mosquitos away.

They made small talk over their shared meal, perched on either end of the wide couch. Tommy wanted to move closer, but for some reason he was hesitant to bridge the last bit of space between them.

He watched Chuck closely as he told him about a middle distance swimmer he was excited about coaching the next season. His eyes flashed brightly, and maybe Tommy was imagining it, but they looked like they were overflowing with an energy he hadn’t seen in a while. Chuck looked happy, and when he gesticulated wildly with his slender hands the bright blue paint on his nails caught the light.

“I love the color of your nails,” Tommy blurted out.

Chuck paused, and then his face broke into a smile that was almost shy. “Thanks,” he said.

He looked at Tommy intently for a moment, his jaw flexing like he was working through something in his head. His eyes dipped down to Tommy’s mouth before lifting to meet his gaze. In the flickering light cast by the torches, he could barely make out Chuck’s eyes: blue like worn jeans, framed by lashes that glowed like copper thread.

“Are we really doing this?”

Tommy’s question hung in the air between them, and in that moment he felt a profound and unexpected vulnerability. His heart was cracked wide open, pounding, and he was torn between terror and hope.Chuck said he wanted you, he reminded himself.Trust him.

Chuck smiled at him, his gaze soft as he shifted to angle his body to face Tommy. “C’mon, T,” Chuck whispered. “Kiss me.”

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned over, wrapping his hand around the back of Chuck’s neck and pulling him into a kiss that didn’t waste any time being chaste. Chuck’s mouth met his and opened, their tongues curling around each other in the most delicious,intoxicatingmovement.

They both made noises: Tommy a desperate groan and Chuck a sigh that Tommy swallowed greedily. He loved kissing, the intimacy of tongues brushing and breaths mingling, but this kiss? This kiss withChuck? It was rewriting everything he thought he’d known.

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