Page 3 of Crybaby
The afterglow faded as quickly as the lust had come. That couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t imagine Sasha that way—it wasn’t right. Jason didn’twantto be turned-on by people crying, by people feeling sad and hurt, by other people’s misfortune and misery.
He slid out of bed on wobbly knees to wash his hands and change his boxers. By the time he slipped under the covers again, he was resolute.
That was never going to happen again.
**********
Okay, so, it waskind ofnever going to happen again.
In Jason’s defence, he only jerked off to Sasha that one time. He just couldn’t stopthinkingabout it. He tried, he really did, but he seemed to have developed a very unfortunate tolerance for repression. In fact, the more he tried to push the thoughts down, the less successful he was in doing so. It was, frankly, exhausting.
It came to the point that even Sasha noticed something was off.
“You are thinking very hard. Not good for you,” Sasha said.
Jason startled, realising he’d been staring at Sasha unseeingly. “Shut up,” he responded automatically.
“What are you thinking about so much? Boyfriend?”
Jason tensed, a flash of fear going through him until he realised that Sasha was obviously kidding. “Shut up,” he repeated. “I’m just spacing out on your ugly face.”
Sasha laughed. “I have handsomest face in all of America.”
“Sure, buddy. You tell yourself that.”
It had taken months after befriending Sasha for Jason to come out to him. He’d been worried, what with Sasha being so proud of being Russian and how things were there for queer people. He hadn’t wanted to lose Sasha but, most of all, he hadn’t wanted to be disillusioned as to his character if Sasha reallydidhave a problem with it. It had been a long time since Jason was in the closet and, as exhausting as re-coming out could be, he wasn’t about to start hiding again.
When Jason finally managed to share that part of him with Sasha, it’d gone…weirdly.
Sasha had been quiet for a long time, and just when Jason had lost hope that’d he react kindly, he’d said, “Good to say that. Very brave.”
Jason hadn’t pressed for more, relieved that Sasha wasn’t going to be a homophobic dick about it, but things had become stilted and strange between them after that.
To say that Jason had been bummed was an understatement. He’d been sure that, despite what Sasha had originally claimed, he reallydidhave a problem with Jason being bisexual. He’d practically resigned himself to it, angry and sad and confused, when Sasha had invited him over to his apartment like everything was back to normal.
Jason had accepted the invitation but hadn’t been able to avoid confronting Sasha about his hot-and-cold attitude. “Look, man,” he’d started, barely after stepping into the apartment. “If you have a problem with me liking guys, you gotta tell me. You can’t just—”
“I’m gay.”
Jason had choked on his words, staring at Sasha. “You…what?”
“You say, Sasha, I like men. I’m say, Jason, I like men too. But not women, only men.”
Jason had tried to get his shit together. “Okay. I mean, thanks for telling me. I…”
“I’m never say that to anybody before. Nobody know.”
Jason’s heart had clenched at that. “Fuck. I’m sorry. You’ve never told anybody about your relationships? Or, I mean, I don’t know if you’ve ever…not that it matters. I just meant—”
“Never been. Been with women, but I know don’t like. I leave Russia…but too scared. Is good to say, but…not do. Not now.” He’d seemed so small, then, pushed down by his words, by his past.
A wave of fury and desperation had crashed over Jason because he knew what that felt like, to not want to face yourself. Sasha, twenty-five years old and never having allowed himself to be with someone he could actually build a life with, just because other people couldn’t accept the reality of one kind of love.
There was nothing Jason could do about that, though. What hecoulddo was be Sasha’s friend. “Sasha, I know we’ve only known each other for a few months but, like…I hope you know that I’m here for you, for whatever you want. If you wanna talk, or rant, or cry, or want a wingman when you’re ready to meet someone, I’m here. I know what it feels like to think that what you want and who you love is wrong, but it’snot. It’s not.”
Sasha hadn’t cried, but he’d hugged Jason tight and had even taken Jason up on his offer to talk, every now and again. It’d settled into something known and normal between them, even though Sasha, as far as Jason knew, never showed interest in going out and meeting someone.
And now, three years later, both of them in their late twenties and in a place in their lives where they should bewiser, Jason found himself putting the fact that Sasha was gay, and had no sexual experiences with men, and his beautiful, crying face together, and it was fucking Jason up.
