Page 52 of Breakout Year
“How much would it be for me to stay over?” Eitan’s flush was back. “I mean, just on your couch.”
“You want to pay to sleep on my couch?”
“No.” Eitan shook his head, less like he was denying it and more like he was reminding himself of something. “That was weird. Forget I said that—my verbal filter is still a work in progress. I should let you get some sleep.” He didn’t move.
“You know, all the pictures of us people have been putting on Insta—they’re kind of unclear that we’re dating.”
Eitan frowned. “Not even when we were kissing at the restaurant?”
“Nope, just two guys having dinner.” Sometimes, when Akiva got stuck writing and needed to get things going, he had a character jump from a moving train. That was what he felt like now—poised, breathless, about to leap. “So we must not be very convincing.”
Akiva braced himself for Eitan’s laugh—that was a line, and Akiva knew it was one and Eitan must know it too. Does it count as fake if we both know we’re pretending there’s nothing else happening? Eitan was paying for his time. Nothing else: certainly not the startled feeling of Akiva’s heart as it pounded against his ribs. Let’s go rob a bank. Let’s run away to Paris. Anything but confront this thing welling in his chest.
Eitan stepped closer. Put one hand at his waist, another at Akiva’s jaw. “Is this all right?” Eitan asked, as if there was any wrong to be found in the curve of his hand at Akiva’s stubble.
Akiva nodded into the safety of Eitan’s palm, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted to flash forward to five minutes from now to a frantic tearing of clothes. He wanted to stay held here forever and not worry about his work or his bills or even his plants.
“Please,” Akiva said, a nonspecific sort of please, but Eitan heard him anyway, like there was nothing Akiva could ask for that Eitan wouldn’t give him.
Eitan leaned up. Pressed their mouths together. It was just like all the other times they’d kissed, except for how it wasn’t. Eitan’s lips parted under his. He traced his tongue into Akiva’s mouth unshyly, and Akiva could taste Eitan’s laughter when he sucked his tongue.
His hand splayed at Akiva’s waist; this time, there was no frowning over the too-prominent jut of his ribs. He clung to Akiva like he wanted to possess him or possibly be possessed by him, something wholly distinct from the money Eitan kicked over to him after each date.
Akiva’s hand found the back of Eitan’s neck, holding him in place, and Eitan made a noise in his throat—too pleased to be a growl.
“That good?” Akiva asked in between presses of their mouths.
Eitan said something to himself that came out a whisper. Then he leaned away, just long enough to square his shoulders, to get that look of Eitan determination that Akiva recognized from that ill-fated press conference that didn’t exactly seem so ill-fated with Eitan’s arms around him.
“I wasn’t sure I liked men.” Eitan said it all in a rush.
Now Akiva leaned back. Blinked a few times to clear his mind, which could only flash one question. “What?”
“You seem surprised.”
“It’s because I am.”
“If it helps,” Eitan said, “I didn’t know you liked men either.”
“In Arizona, you didn’t notice how much I looked at you?” Because Akiva felt like his attention toward Eitan had been as hot and bright as the desert sun.
“I’m told I can be oblivious until something’s right in front of me.”
“And you never just woke up in the morning and thought about how you wanted to fuck a man?” Akiva knew he should be less disbelieving, perhaps a touch gentler, but for once Eitan seemed entirely composed as Akiva felt like he was coming slightly unglued.
Eitan grinned at that. “Not before, no, not in a way I could articulate.”
Before. Fuck. Which would mean… “You came out at that press conference and weren’t entirely sure you were queer?” Akiva’s voice went a little hysterical at the end.
“I thought maybe other people were exaggerating about relationships or whatever. I like my ex. She’s really nice.”
“She?” Akiva asked.
“Yeah.”
“And you’ve never dated a man before?”
“Technically, we’re not dating.” Though Eitan said it with a grin. “And no, I haven’t.” Which certainly recontextualized all the questions Eitan had been asking him. “I mean, I didn’t not know. Just, when she and I were together, I thought that was it. I didn’t want to be some asshole ballplayer screwing around on her.” Now Eitan was digging a toe into the floor. “But I thought about it, I guess. Mostly in the abstract.”
