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Neil has been wondering for a long time whether something is wrong with him. Years on the run have changed him … not just physically, but emotionally as well. He carries many wounds from his past, and he knows that.
But it hasn’t been long since Neil has begun wondering if something entirely different is wrong with him. Ever since his father stopped being a threat, thanks to his uncle, and he came to Palmetto State without any real expectations. Without the hope of finding friends.
But Dan and Matt have other plans. Sooner or later, he can’t escape his new roommate in the shared apartment and his girlfriend anymore. They include him, drag him along to parties, show him what the life of a twenty-year-old young man can look like. And it hasn’t been long since Neil met more of their friends—Allison and Renee for example.
He is rebuilding his life, not really sure yet what the future holds for him. For now, he works in a small café. Some of his friends study; maybe that could be something for him too. He hasn’t made any big plans for the future, because he didn’t know if he would have one at all.
Because of his newly found friends, he ends up on a Friday night at a party thrown by Dan’s college friends. Dan is on the college swim team and convinced Neil to come with her to one of their “legendary” parties. Neil doesn’t really like partying. Doesn’t drink much. But he’s getting used to being around people. Around strangers. He glances around the room, sees Matt and Dan in the corner on a sofa, Dan sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around her. He whispers something in her ear and she blushes. He watches Allison pull some guy behind her and disappear into the bathroom.
So Neil stands in the corner of the room and wonders what is wrong with him. The normal life of a twenty-year-old doesn’t only involve Friday night parties but also sex. Often both combined. Neil wonders why it comes so naturally to people. What they see in it, how they seem so relaxed in these situations. How they approach each other and talk, and how both end up in a bed at the end of the night.
Neil has had sex. Quite a lot, actually. After a conversation with Allison a few months ago, when she suggested he should just try it, he did exactly that. He downloaded a dating app, met people after a few impersonal messages, and slept with them. His first time was with a woman. It was a one-night stand. Neil didn’t like it. He assumed it was because of the gender and met a man next. It was somewhat better, yet Neil still can’t understand why people are so addicted to sex. He doesn’t particularly enjoy it. He doesn’t hate it either. It just doesn’t do much for him. He met with several more men after that, never more than once. What he does like, though, is the aftercare. The few minutes, or even hours, when he lies next to the person and gets held tightly. When he’s cleaned up, when someone soothes him with gentle touches along his back or through his hair. He feels safe when he’s touched almost lovingly. As if a part of him that had been missing for so long finally returns.
But it rarely happens that someone just holds you, spends the night entangled with you. So Neil has decided he will endure the sex if it means getting physically close to someone. He’s not looking for a specific person, not for love. Just the feeling of safety. The feeling of another warm body against his. The absurdity of lying in bed with a stranger, hidden in the darkness of night, knowing that everything will be forgotten at dawn, slipping out of the apartment and continuing with life as if nothing happened.
Neil drinks from his cup and lets his gaze wander across the room. The people in the middle dance wildly to the music, while others stand in the kitchen in small groups or in pairs, talking. He sees Renee talking to a girl, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze moves on quickly. On the two sofas, people sit pressed together, and even the hallway and stairs are full of bodies. Neil feels someone looking at him. He searches the room. His gaze stops at a person on the opposite side.
A man is watching him intensely.
Neil swallows instinctively.
The man stands alone in a corner as well, a red plastic cup dangling loosely from his fingers. He’s wearing black jeans, a tight black shirt, and black boots, a sharp contrast to his light blond hair. He has piercings in his ears and one on his lip. He’s short, maybe even a little shorter than Neil, it’s hard to guess from the distance. When Neil’s eyes meet his again, the blond man raises an eyebrow provocatively. Neil grins.
The blond man pushes off the wall with a light movement and leaves the apartment, slipping through the side door. Neil looks around. Nobody pays him any attention; everyone is lost in conversation or dancing. A few minutes later, Neil follows the blond through the same door.
Outside it’s dark. Neil needs a moment for his eyes to adjust. He turns. To the right of the door, the blond man leans against the wall, one foot propped behind him, smoking and staring down the street. He doesn’t acknowledge Neil. Neil hesitates, unsure how to start a conversation, and stays by the door.
“Are you planning on standing there all night?” the man asks at last, turning his head toward Neil and raising that eyebrow again.
“No, sorry,” Neil says quickly and takes a hesitant step toward him. Then another. At a safe distance, he leans against the wall as well. The man looks forward again and takes another drag from his cigarette. Neil watches the smoke dissolve into the night.
“Staring,” the man comments, and Neil quickly shakes his head, trying to gather his thoughts. The blond snorts, amused.
“Can I have one?” Neil asks, nodding toward the cigarette.
The man holds out the pack without a word. Neil takes one, then pauses halfway to his mouth. He doesn’t have a lighter. The man snorts again at his frozen expression, then turns fully toward him, steps closer, and lights the cigarette between Neil’s lips. Up close, Neil can finally get a good look at him. He is, indeed, a few centimeters shorter, with brown eyes. His lip piercing reflects the dim streetlight. He stays close for a few seconds before facing forward again, leaning against the wall—this time a little nearer to Neil.
A moment passes before Neil takes a careful drag and watches the smoke leave his mouth.
“Andrew,” the man says eventually.
“What?” Neil asks, confused.
“I’m Andrew,” he repeats.
Neil gathers himself, turns slightly toward him. “I’m Neil.”
“Hello, Neil,” Andrew says, tilting his head toward him. He’s attractive, Neil thinks. His gaze drifts from Andrew’s eyes to his hand holding the cigarette, to the way his lips move around it. His hand is large, his arm muscular under the tight shirt. If Andrew notices Neil staring, he doesn’t comment. Neil snaps his gaze back up.
“So tell me, Neil,” Andrew says, “what’s a guy like you doing at a college party? From what I’ve seen, you’re not interested in alcohol or dancing.”
“I’m wondering the same thing,” Neil answers. Then “Wait .. were you watching me?”
Andrew stares at him blankly and gives a simple, “Maybe.”
“Hm,” Neil says, then after a moment “What about you? What are you doing at this party?”
Andrew shrugs. “Trying to meet interesting people.”
Neil snorts. “You find interesting people in the living room of an overcrowded party?”
“No. But outside, next to the house of the overcrowded party, maybe,” Andrew replies.
“Oh,” Neil says brilliantly.
Andrew puts out his cigarette with his boot, and Neil flicks his own forgotten cigarette to the ground and steps on it until it goes out.
He looks back at Andrew, only to find Andrew already looking at him. Neil stares back. There’s something calculated in Andrew’s gaze.
“I want to blow you. Yes or no?” Andrew asks.
“Oh. Um.” Neil’s first reaction is pure surprise. He’s never met someone this direct, especially after barely talking. He thinks. Andrew is interesting, someone he can’t quite place yet. And though a blowjob isn’t exactly his preferred way of getting close, that’s just how things go, he reminds himself.
“Yeah. Sure,” he says eventually, wishing he’d had more to drink.
“Okay,” Andrew says and walks around the side of the house toward the street where cars are parked. Neil follows him, unsure. It’s naive to go with a stranger like this, but something about Andrew’s presence makes Neil forget that.
They get into a sleek black car. Neil looks at Andrew expectantly.
“I don’t live far,” Andrew says, starting the engine. “Is it okay if we go to my place, or should we go to yours?”
Such a cliché question. Neil’s heard it many times. They go for a walk or have a short drink only to end the evening with a “your place or mine?”
However, from Andrew’s mouth, it sounds different.
“Your place is fine,” Neil says.
Andrew drives off, and fifteen minutes later they’re at his apartment. Andrew unlocks the door, pushes it open with his foot, tosses the keys into a small bowl on the shelf, and turns on the light.
Neil looks around. A small hallway, several doors branching off. Andrew heads straight for one on the right, glancing back at Neil. Neil follows.
They enter a messy small bedroom. Neil closes the door behind them. Andrew switches on a dim lamp on his desk and stops in front of Neil.
Neil swallows. Andrew seems to notice his hesitation.
“You still sure you want this?” Andrew asks.
“I’m sure,” Neil says, sounding as confident as he can, shooting Andrew a grin.
Andrew nods, puts his hands gently on Neil’s shoulders, and slowly guides him backward toward the bed. His touch is gentle, soft—a sharp contrast to his appearance. Neil savors it and lets himself get pushed until his legs hit the bed and he sits. Andrew looks him over, then drops to his knees. His hands glide from Neil’s shoulders down his arms and come to rest in his lap. Neil shivers.
Andrew keeps eye contact while undoing Neil’s belt and pants. He pulls them and his boxers down in one motion, gives Neil one last intense look, then wraps his hand around him. With firm, practiced movements, Andrew strokes him until he’s hard, then takes him into his mouth. The warmth is pleasant. Andrew’s hands press lightly against Neil’s thighs. He definitely knows what he’s doing; his mouth moving skillfully, tongue circling the tip, lips gliding down again. Neil feels the faint brush of the lip piercing.
It’s nice. Still, Neil just wants it to be over so he can return the favor, using it as an excuse to touch Andrew, hoping maybe Andrew will let him be close afterward. But Andrew doesn’t seem like someone who enjoys aftercare. Not someone who would hold him all night.
So better take the chance now, Neil thinks. He gently puts his hands over Andrew’s where they rest on his thighs. Andrew freezes for a moment, and Neil panics, thinking he made a mistake. Andrew lets him slip out of his mouth and looks up at him, studying him. Neil swallows. Then Andrew visibly relaxes and resumes.
Minutes pass. Neil keeps his hands still, not daring to push further, and tries to enjoy the moment. He lets out quiet noises sometimes so Andrew won’t think he’s uncomfortable, though all he can think about is how much he’d rather just be lying here, touching Andrew’s arms or feeling them wrapped around him.
Neil is lost in thought when Andrew suddenly pulls away. Neil looks down, startled.
“You’re not really into this, are you?” Andrew asks.
“What? No, I’m sorry, I was just thinking. You were great,” Neil blurts out, instinctively defending himself, reflexively trying to justify.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Andrew says flatly.
“No, sorry, just give me a moment, I was distracted,” Neil tries again, but Andrew only shakes his head.
“You don’t have to be intimate with me, you know that, right? Just because I offered you a blowjob doesn’t mean you have to accept. You’re allowed to say no. I prefer a no over a lie,” Andrew says, his tone sharpening.
“It’s not like that, I just thought…” Neil starts, then stops. It’s stupid. How is he supposed to explain?
“You just thought…?” Andrew prompts.
“It’s stupid, really,” Neil says small. Andrew tucks him back into his jeans, stands, and sits beside him on the bed.
“I doubt it’s more stupid than the lie you told me a moment ago,” he says.
Neil breathes out.
“I just thought that if I slept with you, or did anything intimate with you, then maybe afterward you’d be closer to me,” he begins.
“Closer afterward?” Andrew asks.
“I just… I don’t really like the whole sex thing. I mean, it’s not terrible. I don’t hate it. I just don’t get why people enjoy it so much. However… I go along with it because people usually stay in bed afterward. They cuddle or touch. I like that part.”
Andrew is silent.
“I told you it’s stupid. I should go,” Neil says and starts to get up.
“Wait,” Andrew says. Neil sits back down, turns toward him.
“It’s not stupid,” Andrew says.
Neil lets out a short, ironic laugh.
“You like the aftercare, not the sex. That’s not stupid,” Andrew says.
Neil just looks at him.
“Do you do this often?” Andrew asks.
Neil nods.
“That’s stupid,” Andrew says.
Neil starts to defend himself, but Andrew continues.
“It’s stupid because it’s dangerous, Neil.” A little shiver runs down Neil’s spine at the way Andrew says his name.
“It’s dangerous to go home with strangers and sleep with them just because you want some physical contact. You never know who you’re dealing with.”
Neil swallows and nods. Andrew is right. It is dangerous. Especially with his past—he’s careful about who he trusts. And yet he took the risk.
“Take your shoes off,” Andrew says suddenly.
Neil looks at him, confused.
“You want to be touched by me, just not in a sexual way. You want to stay here and be held, right?”
Neil nods, confused by the question.
“Then come here. We can do that. You don’t have to sleep with me,” Andrew says.
“You… you’d do that?” Neil asks hesitantly.
“Yeah,” Andrew says. “But I have rules.”
Neil nods, takes off his shoes, and moves onto the bed next to Andrew.
“I don’t really like being touched,” Andrew says, “as you might’ve noticed.”
“I noticed,” Neil says.
“I’m working on it. However, me touching you is fine,” Andrew says, sliding back up the bed until his head hits the pillow.
He lifts the blanket expectantly. Neil slips under it beside him, lying on his side, facing Andrew.
“If you don’t like something, you tell me immediately, understood?” Andrew asks.
“Understood,” Neil says.
Andrew starts touching him carefully under the blanket, running his hands slowly up and down Neil’s arms, squeezing his shoulders lightly when he reaches them. Neil exhales contentedly.
“Are there places where I can touch you too?” Neil asks quietly after a while.
Andrew stays silent for a long moment, then takes Neil’s hand and places it in his hair.
“Here is fine,” he says.
Neil runs his fingers through Andrew’s hair. It’s soft. Andrew’s body is tense at first but relaxes gradually as he continues tracing Neil’s arms and torso with slow, gentle movements.
Neil’s eyes drift shut. He sinks into the touch. Eventually, the world around him fades into a soft blur, and sleep overtakes him.
Neil has spent the night at other people’s places before.
But he has never fallen asleep in a stranger’s bed.