A guy at the bar (part 3a/ending)

hvdude

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The Guy at the Bar (part 3)

The next morning I awoke disoriented, but I could hear Aaron in the bathroom brushing his teeth. I looked at the clock, it was just 6:30. A few minutes later he came out of the bathroom and I was surprised to see he was wearing his boxers. “Good morning,” I said. “Good morning,” he responded, but I could tell something was on his mind.


“You okay?” I asked. No response. I reached out a hand and touched his back, he flinched, so I took my hand back. He wouldn’t look at me. “Nate,” he started but struggled for words, “I think…I mean, I don’t…”. He turned to look at me and I stayed silent, realizing that what had happened the previous night was so unexpected for both of us. His gaze held a mixture of confusion, fear and sadness.

“It’s okay. I understand. I do,” I whispered, trying not to sound dejected.

“If you do then explain it to me, because I don’t,” he stated with an almost rebellious tone.

“We shared a lot with each other and you’re not used to that, I know,” I started. “You let down your guard and expressed a side of yourself that you yourself may not have realized was there.”

“But what if I don’t want that side of me to be there?” he asked.

“First, I would ask why you wouldn’t. Being with another man is completely natural and allowing yourself to be cared for shows trust and love,” I continued.

“I just feel, I don’t know, guilty. I feel like it is….” He searched for the word. I supplied it. “Wrong?”

“Well, yeah,” He looked like he was trying to believe it, wanted to believe it.

Calmly I said, “Who is to tell you what is right and wrong for you? Society has taken to throwing labels on everything. Gay. Straight. Liberal. Conservative. It makes it easy to classify each person. But if we all just let each other live our lives the way we choose and stopped pigeonholing people the world would be a much better place; a much happier place,” I told him.

He just stared at me. “Look, over the ages it was the men who were the hunters, the gatherers. Men defended the community. Constantly their guard was up; against the prey, against the invader. Even for procreation men still kept their guard up because not doing so opened them up to scrutiny. ‘What kind of man are you?’ they would be asked if they showed vulnerability and seen as weak.” I wasn’t sure I was making any sense.

I figured I had nothing to lose and said, “Are you ashamed? Would you be ashamed of me if I were your boyfriend?”

“No!” he insisted.

“What if someone looked over at me and called me a fag? What would you do?” Again, pushing my luck.

“I’d punch them in the mouth and tell them to shut the fuck up,” he was getting angry now. Good.

“What if they called you a fag?” I pressed.

“I’d do the same thing,” he replied. “And it would be me punching them in the mouth,” I added. His eyes widened, mouth agape, not knowing how to reply. “I would without hesitation. You know I would, right?” I asked. He nodded slowly and reached over to me.

“I will not now or ever let anyone hurt you. Do you understand me?” Again, he nodded. I took his hand, palm up, and kissed his hand. He slid his hand behand my head and pulled me into a deep kiss, tasting the mintiness on his breath. “My turn to brush my teeth,” I argued, pushing myself up and out of bed.

When I came back into the room Aaron was dressed for work. Turns out he works at a different branch of the bank that Jill works for, which is how they know each other. He looked so handsome that he took my breath away. I quickly threw my clothes on and together we walked to our cars.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about. I can’t thank you enough” he shyly admitted.

“As I told you last night I am here for you. If you want to talk or just have someone to listen to I can do that too,” I reassured him. He looked around and, on not seeing anyone, leaned in, gave me a chaste kiss and whispered, “Thank you”.

[due to character limitations I had to cut the final part into two sections.]
 

joemontague2001

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