becoming us (9 page)

“Bryce...” Zac wasn’t going anywhere. First, he had to make sense of what Bryce was saying.

“I’m not leaving. We don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this. But I’m not leaving.

You’re still my
friend
, Bryce.” He rubbed Bryce’s back, slow strokes, trying to soothe his own nerves as well. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Bryce. I promise. You were doing everything right. I’m sorry I screwed it up for you. You’re
not
stupid or disgusting or anything like that.

You’re so beautiful, Bryce.”

“I’m sorry,” Bryce got out between ragged breaths. “I want to, and I can’t... I just wanted you to feel good. I wanted
you
. I wanted to be happy with you.” His hand in his hair was twisted painfully tightly, the other clenched his own arm with a white-knuckled grip. Even his toes tried to dig into the floor. “I
am
like that, like they always said, and I don’t even know how to do it right. You gotta know I don’t hate you. I’m the one who’s disgusting.”

“You’re not.” Zac tugged Bryce against him, tipping Bryce off balance to fall against his chest, and then he wrapped his arms around Bryce and held on tight. Zac was used to not talking, just
doing
. He wasn’t ready for this. It seemed like it should have worked, to just get Bryce through the first time and then Bryce would know it was okay. Maybe it was stopping Bryce that was the wrong thing, but it had seemed like -- it
was
-- the right thing to do. How was Zac supposed to figure it out when it was backwards?

“You’re not disgusting,” Zac insisted, trying to make things right. “God, you’re gorgeous, Bryce, and so
good
. You did everything right. You did. It felt so good, and you were, you seemed like
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you liked it, and that was good, too. I liked it. The way you were so into it. I liked it too much,

‘cause I was gonna come and... You’re not disgusting, Bryce. You’re not.” And somehow, even if it had seemed so good and right, it still ended with Zac trying to fix whatever he’d done wrong and Bryce trying not to cry and failing.

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t feel like this. I can’t.” Bryce was curled up tight in Zac’s arms, his whole body rigid with distress. “How am I supposed to not do this anymore when I want to be with you?”

“I don’t know, Bryce. But I wanna help.” Zac held on, kissing the top of Bryce’s head. He’d struggled with being queer, but not like Bryce. Zac couldn’t even start to understand what would cause this kind of pain. He could only guess, given that Bryce’s dad didn’t even want him in the same house as a gay guy, that this had tormented Bryce for years. Bryce must have been so scared, and it explained so much. “I’m here, and I’m not going away. No matter what.” Bryce slowly unraveled in Zac’s arms until he was slumped against Zac’s body, barely awake.

His breath still caught in little hiccups that felt like sobs and made Zac feel lower than low.

Bryce pulled himself up and wiped his face with the towel he was holding. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice raw. “God, I’m such a fuckup, Zac.”

“You’re not.” Zac cupped Bryce’s face in one hand and turned Bryce to look at him. “You’re not. I’m pretty sure we screwed this one up together, if anything.” Zac felt horrible for pushing Bryce like he had. He’d thought he was taking a risk, showing up like he had, kissing Bryce, telling Bryce he wanted him. He just hadn’t realized what the consequences could be. He wondered if he’d known somewhere deep down that Bryce wouldn’t say no. “I’m sorry. Can I...

Will you still let me come sleep with you? Just sleep.” Zac had the sinking feeling that he’d worked things out too late.

Bryce nodded and swallowed hard. “I don’t want to go to sleep alone,” he admitted softly. “You really want to?”

“Yeah.” Zac leaned in to rest his forehead against Bryce’s. “I wanna be with you. Just. Close to you. You know?” Even if this was over, he wanted to take care of his Bryce.

“I know. Sometimes I wish I could come get in your bed,” Bryce breathed. He was still unsteady and the confession made tears well up again, but he blinked them away.

“You can.” Zac was surprised by Bryce’s admission, by the idea that Bryce would want that at all. “I’m not gonna... I’m not gonna send you away, Bryce. I like being with you.”

“I just like being near you.” Bryce closed his eyes. “It’s like I could sleep better there.”

“You wanna come back to my room, then?” Zac offered tentatively. “Wherever you want, Bryce.

I don’t... I don’t care. As long as I get to be there with you.”
Please?
He ached with the idea of not getting to curl up with Bryce again.

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“My room is...” Bryce pushed himself to sitting and then got up awkwardly, trying to get the towel around his waist as he stood. “I mean... you don’t mind. My room. Right?” He looked worriedly at Zac.

Zac smiled gently and shook his head as he stood up. “I don’t mind. Your room’s good.” He smiled a little more, trying to let Bryce know things would be okay. “You’ve got more pillows, too.”

“Okay.” Bryce was still shaky as he unlocked the bathroom door and led the way back to his room. There, he pulled his boxers on before shedding the towel, then climbed into bed.

Zac kept his boxers on and grabbed his T-shirt, too, yanking it on over his head before he came over to Bryce’s bed to wait for permission to crawl in with him. He didn’t want to push any more than he already had; he’d already done enough damage. At this rate, he was never drinking again.

Zac felt worse by the minute, as the pieces fell into place, all the way back to Perry coming out; he couldn’t imagine how conflicted Bryce must have been all that time, caught between his family and his friends, scared of his own feelings. Zac’s brain had just taken too long to get around the fact that this was
awful
for Bryce, that even being close could be hard.

“You can come in.” Bryce moved the covers aside for Zac. He didn’t even make a joke about written invitations or anything.

Zac slipped in and curled up facing Bryce. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Thanks for... just... you know.” Bryce looked heartbroken about it all. That was the downside to being friends with someone with big brown eyes and long lashes: they did sad so well. He raised a hand to pat tentatively at one of Zac’s arms, begging to be let in.

Zac didn’t want to be thanked. He’d made this mess, and he felt horrible for pushing Bryce like he had. He lifted one arm, hesitantly inviting Bryce to move closer.

Bryce wriggled closer, nuzzling up against Zac’s shoulder, seeking comfort, and finally put his head down on Zac’s chest. He looped one big arm around Zac’s waist and settled down as close as he could.

Zac wrapped his arms around Bryce and held him close. He stroked Bryce’s hair and kissed the top of his head. “Night, Bryce.”

“Night.” Bryce’s voice was still rough. But he closed his eyes and, surprisingly quickly, he was sound asleep. He clung to Zac all night, even through acting restless and distressed and didn’t wake.

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Zac lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling. He should have known better. God, he was so stupid to get drunk and do that. Bryce just wanted to make him happy and be good.
Oh, Bryce
.

Bryce tried so hard. Zac kissed his silky curls.

Worse, Bryce wanted him, for real, and Zac had gone and screwed it up by putting Bryce in the position of having to turn him down or do something too soon.
Oh, Bryce
. He’d make it up to Bryce somehow, though he knew this wasn’t ever going to happen again. He wouldn’t let it, Zac promised himself. It hurt Bryce too much for Zac to fuck up.

***

But last night. Bryce’s throat and stomach clenched.
God
. How could he have done that to Zac?

He slowly wriggled loose and picked up the towel from last night and some jeans, then he slipped away to take a hot shower.

He scrubbed himself from head to toe and tried not to cry.
I’m disgusting
. It wasn’t the sucking Zac off, and it wasn’t even the liking it that he hated himself for this morning: freaking out after and
crying
like a fucking pussy,
again
, was beyond the pale. Making Zac feel bad for something that wasn’t his fault was a million times worse than crying, too. He turned the shower over to cold and stood in the icy water until the hot clench inside that felt like tears wasn’t so strong.

How was he supposed to tell Zac he just wasn’t brave enough to do this without hurting Zac’s feelings again and again?
It’s not you; it’s me
. Bryce got out of the shower, toweled off a little, and pulled on his jeans. He couldn’t just ask Zac to keep taking chances because he wanted to try out being queer.

Bryce knew it wasn’t just wanting to try it out. He knew it was more like he wanted to stop pretending it wasn’t true. He already knew, inside. All he wanted now was to go ask Zac to forgive him, but he didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t go back to his room. Downstairs, he put the coffee maker on and then went to the basement to take his frustration and pain out on the punching bag down there, bare knuckles and all.

Punching the bag, punishing himself as much as it, made him feel so much better. He lost himself in it, throwing one punch after another, the rhythm almost as soothing as the pain.

“Bryce?” Zac’s tentative voice broke into his trance.

Bryce threw one more vicious punch at the bag. He could have been a hell of a boxer if he’d really had any heart for hitting people. Another way he’d never lived up to his potential. He caught the bag on the return and turned toward Zac, even though it hurt in his chest to make himself meet Zac’s eyes. Zac looked really rough.

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“Hey.”

“Hey. I, um.” Zac hefted the mugs. “I brought coffee.” Zac was staring at Bryce’s hands and, for a moment, Bryce thought Zac couldn’t even look at him for very long. Then Bryce realized that his hands were bashed to hell from the punching bag. He couldn’t help feeling like he deserved it.

“Thanks.” He reached out and took the cup Zac offered. That he didn’t deserve. Not with the way he’d made Zac feel so lousy.

Bryce wanted to kiss the uncertainty off Zac’s face, wanted to crawl back into bed with him and kiss and touch until they came like they had the first night. The urge made him swallow hard, because it was painful and unexpected, and because he knew he couldn’t do that ever again. He couldn’t take his chances with freaking out like that and hurting Zac, or anyone for that matter.

“I’m sorry,” Zac said, biting his lip as soon as the words were out. “I’m sorry I showed up like that, last night. I knew you weren’t... I knew better. I’m sorry that I pushed you into that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Oh
. Bryce had to turn away and take a drink of coffee to hide the way tears welled up in his eyes.

Damn it, Zac needed to stop being so
nice
. “It’s not your fault.” He shrugged and wandered over to nudge a dumbbell lying near the weight bench, herding it back where it belonged with one foot. “It’s my problem.”

“It’s mine if I’m the one causing it,” Zac said quietly, staring down at his coffee like it might have the answers to their problems.

“You didn’t...” Bryce put his coffee down on the bench and picked the weight up to put it back in the rack. His hands hurt. His chest hurt.

“I woke you up while I was drunk and stupid, and started kissing you,” Zac pointed out. He didn’t look up. He looked like he was hurting worse than Bryce. “And I told you I wanted more than that. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of causing the problem.”

“I could have said no.” Bryce sat down on the weight bench and picked up his coffee. God, Zac looked so sad. “I didn’t. My fault, okay? Just. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I fucked it up.” He really was so sorry. He hadn’t meant to act horribly. Zac had just been trying to take care of him and Bryce had fucked it up.

Zac came over and sat down on the floor in front of Bryce. “Bryce...” He took a drink of his coffee, then stared at it again. Finally, he looked up at Bryce with huge, sad eyes. “I like you.

Like,
like
you, like you. But you’re my friend, too. My best friend. And last night, I kinda forgot which one was more important to me. Being drunk will do that, I guess. But it was stupid. And I still don’t think you did anything wrong, except maybe not telling me I was being a jackass and kicking me out of your room when I started hitting on you.”
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Bryce breathed, feeling his chest tight against his inhalation. “I didn’t want to kick you out,” he said softly. Now it was his turn to look away. “I wanted to make you happy. God, I sound like a fucking
girl
.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “You’re my best friend, too, Zac. And I don’t want to push you away; I want us to stay friends.”

Zac slid forward so he could rest his forehead against Bryce’s knee. “I’m not going to stop being your friend if you tell me not to kiss you, Bryce. Hell, I’m probably not even going to stop wanting to kiss you if you tell me not to kiss you. But it’s not... You can always say no. I mean, of course you can, but you can say no and I’m not gonna be mad or anything. That’s all. You...

Well, you make me happy just being my friend.”

“I just...” Bryce put his coffee down, afraid he was going to spill it. “I can’t do it, Zac. I can’t.” He put his face in his hands, elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about last night.” He felt mortally humiliated, beaten by his own mind.

Zac didn’t look up. He just nodded against Bryce’s knee. “Okay. You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I didn’t want them to win.” The way his voice broke made it worse. Bryce swallowed hard and sat up straight, pulling his hands away from his face. He had to be tougher than this. “I’m just not... I can’t.”

He wanted it. In his mind, he could see what Zac would look like under him on the weight bench, dark skin glowing against the black leather, his dick hard, his muscles taut, and it turned him on.