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This was definitely not how Phillip Altman wants to be spending his Saturday morning... wandering row after row of vendor stalls, looking for deals on silly diversions like the Whiffle-Matic-3000 and the new and improved Zoomzoomball (now featuring NON-toxic materials!). It was all for his family’s growing chain of sporting goods stores. Sure, he was grateful that his oldest brother Paul was starting to listen to his marketing ideas, and he was no longer relegated to ice-skate rental or warehouse restocking duty. But the annual Tri-State Toy and Recreation Convention and Spectacular was sucking the very soul from his body. To get through this, he needed coffee. A bump of coke would be better but Phillip told himself he wasn’t doing that anymore, so coffee it was.
But as Phillip approaches the kiosk, a familiar shape crosses through his sight line. It’s a silhouette burned into his memory. Tall. Lithe. Legs that seem to go on forever, moving at a quick clip across the obnoxiously-printed carpet of the convention center’s lobby. His eyes follow the movement until the figure stops at the coffee queue. It had to be him. Nobody else was built like that. Thomas McGregor.
Even 15 years later, Phillip’s mind immediately races back to the last time he’d seen that lovely chestnut hair, those cut-glass cheekbones, the seafoam green eyes. They were peering down at him from a third-floor window as Phillip stood on the sidewalk next to a taxi. He was laden down with an overstuffed duffel slung across his back and a guitar case in his hand. He was leaving London. His semester abroad was over and he was heading back to New York state. Thomas leaned out the window to blow him a kiss. Phillip wouldn’t realize until a week later that this was the end of their whirlwind romance.
His long-buried memory of that day is suddenly interrupted by the clipped English accent he sometimes still hears in his dreams.
“...I’m sorry. I guess I was mistaken. I just thought—“
“Thomas.”
“It IS you! Phillip! I knew it! I mean, you’ve changed some, of course. Certainly filled out... here and there... but, wow.”
Thomas now stands before him in a fitted designer checked shirt and expensive jeans that hug his form like he was sewn into them... a far cry from the ill fitting second-hand suit he wore as the flirty British shopboy who’d turned Phillip’s head back when he was just 20 years old. Phillip had been looking for a new raincoat to get him through the wet English spring. Thomas had shown him a few of the latest styles. Then he showed Phillip how he could go down on his knees in the changing room without wrinkling his work slacks. Phillip never stood a chance.
“... and I know it’s strange to see me on this side of the pond after so many years, so I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me—“
“I remember,” Phillip interrupts. At that moment, a minor rage erupts inside him. The gall of this man to think Phillip wouldn’t remember the one who sent him back to America with heart full of expectations and a promise to call that would later be broken. Fuck, he looks good. Damn him.
“Thomas... what was it? McKenzie? McNally? Help me out here, buddy.”
“It’s... it’s McGregor,” Thomas stutters, brows bending up even as the corners of his mouth turn down. “I know it’s been a long time.”
Phillip can’t miss the look of hurt that flashes across that lovely face. He can’t help that it brings him a tiny measure of satisfaction. “What are you doing here, man? I mean, what the fuck? A product convention?”
“Yes! I actually run my own toy store now! I specialize in handmade heirloom-quality toys for more traditionally-minded parents. But my partner says I need to step into the 21st century and see what else might pique a modern child’s interest.”
It feels to Phillip that Thomas has definitely repeated this spiel many many times already today. He’s nervous. Phillip has become a lot better at reading people over these past 15 years.
“Toy store, huh? That’s cool. Here in New York?” Phillip asks, aiming to sound only mildly curious while his heart feels ready to jump out of his chest. The answer shouldn’t matter. But it feels like it does.
“What? Oh, no. Back home in England. I’ve moved out of London though. Only left Harrods two years ago! Do you remember Harrods? Where we met.”
“Where you sucked my dick the first time.” The barb lands exactly where Phillip wanted it too, if the small flinch on Thomas’ face is any indication. But now that he’s hit his target, Phillip feels the sting of guilt. “How could I forget,” he adds, his tone now a bit more gentle.
“Yes... well. I suppose you’re a busy man yourself these days,” Thomas says, his voice moving back into cheery retail mode as his dainty pale hand points to the buyer’s badge hanging over Phillip’s chest. Thomas’ eyes seem to linger there. Phillip knows that look. He flexes his pecs to make sure, and yep. There goes the eyelash flutter he remembers so well.
Phillip can hardly contain the jolt of malicious glee he feels right now. That Thomas fucking McGregor is really eyeing him up here in this convention center lobby. Newly-prissy Thomas in his pricey polished Chelsea boots and fancy schmancy watch. Thomas, with the stupid toy store and the stupid partner, wants him again.
There’s a nagging part of Phillip’s brain that’s telling him not to do this. That it’s just opening up an old wound. That he should simply revel in the satisfaction of turning Thomas down. Phillip tells that part of his brain to shut the fuck up because he’s doing this.
“Not too busy. Not right now, anyway,” Phillip hears himself say.
A brilliant smile all but explodes across Thomas’ face and Phillip is blinded. “How about lunch?” Thomas asks.
“How about we go back to your hotel instead.”
“I... yes. Even better.”
And just like that, Phillip is grabbing Thomas’ hand and pulling him through the building’s glass doors and out onto the sidewalk, where he hails a taxi. He all but inhales Thomas once they’re inside the cab, clutching at his waist and attacking his pretty pink lips. Their antics earn them an irritated look from the cabbie but not much more. Within minutes, they’re walking through the lobby of Thomas’ hotel and into the elevator, where Phillip is on him again.
The feeling of Thomas’ lips on his brings him right back to that spring of his junior year. The heady excitement of finding someone who knew exactly how to touch him to make him weak in the knees. The way Thomas would allow him to suck marks all over his pale slim body, as long as they stayed below his collar line. The nights they would fall asleep as a tangled up mass of limbs, too exhausted from fucking to even brush their teeth or turn off the lights. Phillip wonders for a second if Thomas may exude some sort of narcotic from his mouth because he could never get enough. Not then. Not now either.
They stumble their way to Thomas’ room, giggling and growling. This is the most fun Phillip has had in months. Being a newly-responsible adult is exhausting. But being here, sprawled out on the carpeted floor of Thomas’ rented room, he feels 20 again.
Thomas’ hot mouth is already around his cock before he even has his shirt off. The lanyard of Phillip’s ridiculous badge is tangled behind him. He decides to just snap it off his neck. He’s not going back to the toy expo. Sorry, Paul.
He looks down to see Thomas’ hollowed out cheeks and slick red lips and suddenly his balls are tightening up. He curses himself even as he’s spilling onto Thomas’ tongue. He hadn’t even realized he was so close. If he weren’t in such a haze, he’d be furious at himself for not paying enough attention. For not savoring this.
But now Thomas is scrambling up and unbuttoning his own shirt. Phillip’s mind comes back on line enough to bat his hands away. Phillip can do the job himself. He’s going to unwrap Thomas like a Hanukkah present on the last night. A gift to himself for growing up. For toughening up. For becoming a man— not some stupid boy who throws his heart away for every pretty face that smiles at him. And there are a lot of them. So many over the last 15 years. In clubs, at the gym, inside bathroom stalls. So so many. But none of them ever made him feel like Thomas McGregor did.
Phillip slowly unbuttons Thomas’ shirt and slides it off his milky white shoulders. Now that his own urgency to get off is gone, he wants to take his time and make Thomas beg for it. Make him realize how good Phillip has gotten at this. How good they could have had it together if Thomas had only given them a shot. Phillip wants to fuck him so good he regrets every minute of the last 15 years.
His large thumb drags across one of Thomas’ tiny pink nipples and he hears the man hiss. He always was sensitive that way. Phillip dips his head down to nip at Thomas’ collar bone, then down his narrow chest until finally his lips feel the pebbled nub. He drags the flat of his tongue across it. He lets his teeth pull at the nipple until it’s fully stiffened, then he licks his way across to the other. Once there, he gets his teeth around the tiny nipple and gently starts to gnaw. The whine that escapes Thomas’ mouth reflexively makes Phillip’s lips pull back into a smile. His large hands had been roaming up and down Thomas’ long torso, feeling the bumps of his ribs and the softness of his smooth belly below, but now Phillip brings his right hand up to pinch at the other nipple before rolling it between his finger and thumb.
“My god, you remembered! Yeah, I love that. Fuck, you gorgeous beast,” Thomas babbles. And just that little bit of praise makes Phillip want to prove that he remembers every tiny detail of what made Thomas tick at 18 years old.
Phillip pinches and sucks harder until he knows Thomas will have dark purple bruising on his chest tomorrow, and finds that he loves the idea of marking Thomas up and sending him back home to his partner. Let him explain to the guy that he got the fuck of his life by the one he should’ve never let go, and now he’s ruined forever and will have to abandon the toy store and become a monk. Phillip imagines the ugly old man who keeps Thomas in Ferragamos and Patek Phillipe watches would be disgusted, tell him to get out and go back to America then. And maybe Phillip would take mercy on him. Keep him for a couple of weeks before telling him he was bored and looking for a younger model.
Phillip’s vengeful reverie is suddenly broken by the feeling of Thomas’ delicate hands carding through his hair and finding his ears. Soft fingertips gently caress the upper stiffer part of his ears, the thumb rubbing back and forth. Thomas remembered too. The sensation sends a rush through Phillip and he finds himself sitting up, unable to take it. Instead, he moves himself lower, between Thomas legs. He brings one long denim-clad leg up to unzip the wine-colored boot. Once he chucks it over his shoulder, he decides to test something. He brings Thomas’ leg up higher and places it on his own shoulder, then bends over to place a sloppy kiss against Thomas’ lips. The leg folds over his body with no resistance at all. Still so flexible even now. No wonder the old man keeps him, Phillip thinks.
In this position, his groin is pressed up against Thomas’ ass. Phillip hadn’t even thought about tucking himself back in after the quick blowjob. So now his bare cock, hardening once again, is rubbing against the denim. Phillip is big, he knows that. But he wonders if Thomas has had any bigger over the years. Probably, he thinks bitterly. That thought drives him to bite down on Thomas’ plush bottom lip.
“Ow, fuck!” Thomas shouts, only to have it muffled by Phillip’s tongue, lapping away at the slight coppery taste. Thomas chuckles, “I’m going to look like I got mugged here.”
“Maybe I’ll keep that fancy watch of yours to bolster your story,” Phillip teases. “Then he won’t be so pissed.”
Thomas stops squirming under him for a moment and looks up at Phillip’s eyes. “Who?”
“What?”
“Nothing. I don’t know, I thought you said— Nevermind,” Thomas says as he cranes his face up for another fierce kiss, now nipping at Phillip’s lips as well. Phillip moves his mouth away to suck along Thomas’ jawline to the soft spot right below his ear. His tongue laves at the spot before his lips clamp down to start sucking. He’s going to leave a mark that no mugger would, but gets no indication from Thomas to stop.
In fact, Thomas is busy running his hands up Phillip’s back, then up to his shoulder blades. He pulls Phillip tighter to him, even as his one free leg comes around Phillip’s thigh. Taking the cue, Phillip wraps one strong arm under Thomas’ back while the other clutches at his ass, then he hauls them both upright until Phillip is supporting Thomas’ full weight against his body as he kneels there on the carpet. Phillip surges up, getting one foot under them, then the other. He stumbles his way over to the bed, only hitting a dresser and console table along the way.
Like a choreographed dance they haven’t practiced in years, he feels Thomas’ grip loosening so he lets go and allows the man to drop down onto the duvet with a soft thud. Phillip drinks in the sight. Thomas’ hair is mussed, his shirt sleeves are now just clinging to his wrists, his chest is blooming in pink marks. As Thomas works his own cuffs open, Phillip reaches for the gold buckle mechanism of his leather belt and slides it open, then easily thumbs open the buttons of the fly. He pulls the jeans down Thomas’ impossibly long legs, but one side catches on a leftover boot.
Thomas laughs and the sound fills the room like music. Phillip wants so badly to make this hard. To be animalistic. To be mean. But looking down at Thomas sprawled out on the bed, he finds that the vitriol has left him. He reaches for the remaining boot and slowly unzips it as he playfully bites along the calf muscle. Thomas always had highly developed leg muscles for such a thin guy, Phillip muses. The other boot goes flying just to elicit another giggle from the man below him.
“Careful there! I won’t be able to find that later,” Thomas jokes.
“You won’t need it for a while anyway. I’m keeping you locked up here in this tower with me!” Phillip chuckles back at him. His chest suddenly feels full of light. He makes a playful growling sound and shouts, “I’m the beast!” then throws himself onto the man below.
“Oh no! Somebody help me! I’m trapped by this delicious man!” Thomas says as his fists mockingly pound away at Phillip’s chest. They laugh into each other’s mouths and let it devolve into slow kissing. No tongue now. The sound of their lips smacking fills the quiet of the hotel room. The only other thing they can hear is the low hum of the air conditioning and the shuffling of clothing. Phillip can’t help but open his eyes. He doesn’t want to miss any more of this.
He pulls back just a little to see Thomas easily working open the buttons of his Phillip’s shirt. Phillip then peels it off his body, enjoying the way Thomas’ eyes are lingering on his chest.
“You’ve gotten so much bigger. Broader. When I last saw you, you were nothing but shoulders and ears.”
“And dick.”
“Right, of course. That goes without saying, doesn’t it?” Thomas smiles. “You’re gorgeous, love.”
The word sends a pulse through Phillip, and at that moment he can’t tell if it feels good or devastating. That was always how Thomas used the word, as a term of endearment. Not a verb. But to hear it slip from his lips like nothing, all these years later? It stings. Phillip shakes it off. He’s not going to let his bitterness ruin this.
“You’re still so beautiful, Thomas. The prettiest boy I’d ever seen in my life.” Phillip sees a blush quickly spread across Thomas’ face down to his neck. “So fucking pretty, baby.”
He pulls Thomas’ bunny-patterned socks off his lily white feet. Phillip doesn’t really know what to make of that so he just moves on, finally pulling down his own slacks and briefs the rest of the way and kicking them off. His dick is hard again, sticking straight out from his groin, pointing at the thing he wants. Thomas’ own cock is still trapped in his black boxer briefs. A small patch of wetness near his hip tells Phillip he’s been hard this whole time.
Phillip peels the briefs down Thomas’ body... leaving small kisses at his hip, then his thighs, his knees. Then he moves back up to press his nose against the neatly trimmed almost auburn-colored hair at Thomas’ groin. It’s a delightful find. Thomas had been fully shaved when they’d first met. Now, Phillip inhales the scent of him. Warm. Just a hint of sweat and traces of lavender. He leaves Thomas’ pretty pink cock untouched, instead dragging the flat of his tongue over Thomas’ balls. He pulls one into his mouth, enjoying the slight tickle of hair as he sucks. Thomas is gasping, then moaning against his own fist.
“Take your hand out of your mouth. I want to hear those moans, baby,” Phillip purrs before he wraps his mouth around the other ball and sucks. Thomas keens against the sheets. Phillip pulls off to drag the tip of his tongue up Thomas’ shaft, then starts mouthing at the head of his cock but not taking it fully into his mouth.
“Please, love. You’re such a tease now.”
Phillip smiles and slides his lips up and down the wet shaft one more time before he finally acquiesces. He takes the shiny pink tip into his mouth and closes his lips tightly to pull the remaining skin down with it. Then he presses his tongue against the ridge and flicks until he hears Thomas whimper. With Phillip’s thick lips around the head, he alternates the pressure of his suction as he bobs up and down Thomas’ cock, delighting at the way the man squirms beneath him.
One of his big hands cups both of Thomas’ balls and rolls them, before he lets the knuckle of his forefinger start to press against the strip of muscle behind them. Thomas lets out a long moan. It’s music.
Phillip pulls off and sits up, dragging his large hands from Thomas’ thighs up to the backs of his knees and presses up, pinning them to Thomas’ shoulders. Now he can see everything. Thomas’ hole is still puckered up tight, but he can see it twitching the longer he stares at it.
“Phillip, please. You’re driving me mad, you beast!” Thomas laughs, but Phillip can hear the strain in his voice.
He lets his lips relax from the clench he’d apparently been keeping them in, and allows a rivulet of spit to fall out. It lands just above Thomas hole, so he uses the pad of his thumb to massage it over the furl, eliciting another long moan from Thomas. Phillip finds he loves teasing him. He’s so glad now that he got his first nut out of the way while Thomas has yet to go off. Thomas was the only lover Phillip ever had where he never felt he had the upper hand. Thomas had Phillip wrapped around his finger from the moment his knees touched the ground in that changing room. But now, it was Phillip in control and he was loving it.
Phillip moves his left forearm to pin both of Thomas’ legs across to one side of his body now, the twist showing off just how round and supple Thomas’ ass really is. He can’t see the hole as well this way but he can feel the way it’s relaxing against the insistent prodding of his wet thumb. But this way, he can turn his own body to kiss Thomas slowly, even as his thumb pushes further in.
Phillip’s kisses swallow up the gasps and moans that escape Thomas lips. It’s all Phillip ever wants to eat again. Well... maybe not all, he thinks. Now he pulls away and once again pushes Thomas fully onto his back. His hole has relaxed into a line, pink and glossy and just waiting for Phillip’s mouth. Phillip lets a little more drool fall from his lips, then uses the point of his tongue to push it back against Thomas’ hole.
“Oh my god,” Thomas wails. “Phillip, Phillip. Love.”
With that, Phillip dives in with purpose. He alternates between forceful flat licks and pushing the point of his tongue inside. He can taste the slight saltiness, the tanginess of the man and he finds he can’t get enough. For the better part of ten minutes, Phillip eats Thomas’ ass like it’s his job. He wishes this were his job. He’s good at this job, from what he can hear from the man below him. Thomas is an incoherent mess at this point, just babbling and moaning. Whenever Thomas goes to grab at his own cock, Phillip bats the hand away. He eventually pins both of Thomas‘ hands at his sides but somehow Thomas legs remain pinned in place against his narrow chest.
Phillip leans up to spit at the hole, then moves himself to line up his cock. He drags the leaking head against the hole then slaps it a few times so Thomas can feel just how hard he is. Fuck, his dick looks perfect here... deep pink against the loosened ring of muscle. Phillips gnaws at the inside of his bottom lip.
“Can I have this? Thomas?”
“Yes, fuck. Please. Please.”
Phillip knows he shouldn’t be doing this bare. He always uses rubbers. Most of the time he doesn’t know the men and women he fucks very well so he always keeps a couple of condoms with him. And he certainly doesn’t know who Thomas has been slutting around Europe with over the last 15 years. But he can’t seem to stop himself from pushing in anyway. He grabs the base of his cock and slowly moves forward until his head pops past the ring of Thomas’ entrance.
“Holy shit, you’re still so fucking tight.”
Thomas is just wailing under him. His small hands are braced against Phillip’s hip as if that could stop him if he wanted to surge forward. He can tell it’s probably too much and he’s hurting Thomas right now, although the man doesn’t say anything to stop him. So he just lets it sit there for a beat. He can feel his pulse in the head of his dick so strong that he wonders if Thomas can feel it too.
“Hey. Hey, Thomas. Do you want me to stop? Baby, look at me.”
Thomas opens his eyes. They’re wet in the corners but his pupils are fully dilated, making his eyes look dark jade. He shakes his head minutely and smiles at Phillip.
“I... don’t want to stop. But I have something in my bag. Lubricant.”
He feels Thomas’ hand gently pat at his hip. Phillip pulls back out and stands too quickly, now suddenly light-headed. He bumps into the wall behind him before finding his footing and scanning the room for Thomas’ luggage.
“In my toiletry bag. Near the bathroom sink, love.”
Phillip slams his shoulder into the bathroom doorway before making it inside and scrambling for the bag. He tosses out the mini shaving cream and hairbrush, the baggie of cotton swabs and hand cream, until he finds the bottle he’s looking for and rushes back.
Thomas is now lying kitty corner across the bed, his head cradled on a pillow. One leg is bent up with his foot flat against the sheet. He’s pulled the duvet down. One hand is slowly toying with his bruised nipple while the other runs back and forth along his own thigh. He looks like a dream.
Phillip had planned to fuck Thomas senseless and then slip out while the other man showered or slept, maybe leaving a note on the hotel stationery. “Thanks for a good time” or something equally shitty. But now, looking at Thomas smiling beatifically back at him, Phillip finds the urge to use this man and then discard him has evaporated. He swallows hard, then crawls back onto the bed.
He rolls Thomas onto his side, then presses up behind him. He kisses Thomas’ pale shoulder tenderly, sliding his lips along his skin until he reaches the long column of his neck. He sees the beginning bloom of the hickey he’d left earlier and licks at it in apology.
Without looking, he squeezes some lube into his palm, then coats the head of his dick liberally. He pushes it along the crevice of Thomas’ ass until he feels his hole. The tip slicks the entrance, but instead of just pushing in, Phillip pulls his hip back and slips his middle finger in. Thomas rewards him with a long low moan. Phillip wiggles and pumps the finger in and out as he mouths at the warm skin of Thomas’ neck.
He’s mumbling nonsense now about how good he’s going to fuck Thomas. Make him scream. Make him come without touching his own dick. He feels Thomas simply nodding in agreement.
Phillip squirts more lube and then brings his middle and ring fingers to Thomas’ hole. He rubs around until he feels Thomas shift his hips back. He pushes both fingers in with one smooth motion until his index and pinky fingers are pressed against the softness of Thomas’ ass cheeks, and he pumps. He twists his fingers sideways and back, tries to spread them inside, then curls them slightly until he feels the bump he’s looking for. His dick is rock hard now and insistently prodding the crease between Thomas’ ass and thigh, leaving a wet streak behind.
Thomas reaches his long slim arm back around to grab at Phillip’s ass and squeezes. “Darling please stop teasing me. Please. I want you. I miss you inside me.”
Phillip has been waiting so long to hear those words but now that he’s heard them it only ignites a fire in him. His bitterness comes rushing back.
“Yeah? You missed this dick? Too bad you never fucking called me. You coulda had it again. You coulda had this dick every fucking day.” And with that, he pulls his fingers out and shoves his dripping cockhead in as far as it will go. He feels Thomas tense up so he he pulls back, only to immediately push in again until his hips meet the soft curve of Thomas butt.
“Fuck, fuck Phillip. You’re so fucking big. My god. Fuck,” Thomas babbles. Phillip starts moving his hips. The blood is rushing so loud in his ears that he can barely even hear Thomas’ moans. He rolls the man onto his front, trapping his dick between his body and the sheets. Then Phillip starts driving his hips down as hard as he can. His rhythm is relentless as he fucks Thomas into the mattress.
“This what you miss? Huh? This what you miss?”
“Yes, yes, fuuuuuck.”
“How long did it take for you to find another cock after I left, huh? A week? A day? Huh???”
He pounds away, taking out everything drop of hurt and anger he felt that summer on Thomas ass now. “You know how long I waited for that fucking call? Huh?” he says between thrusts. He shifts to a push-up position so his dick is the only thing touching Thomas.
“You know how many messages I left? Like a fucking asshole? Waiting for you? Huh!”
He’s speeding up his hips now, even as he brings the weight of his upper body down on Thomas’ back. His hands are pressing bruises into Thomas’ hips.
“Telling myself it was the time difference. That’s why. You couldn’t. Fucking. Call me.”
Phillip leans back and spreads his legs, dragging each one over Thomas’ legs so he’s straddling his ass even has his cock drives its way inside. With his hands, he’s pushing Thomas’ shoulders into the bed. He sees red, then suddenly blinding white. He’s coming deep into Thomas’ ass, feeling him clench around the sensation.
Phillip is panting. He’s biting a hole into his own lip. He finally opens his eyes to see fat teardrops falling onto the small of Thomas’ back. He doesn’t know when he started crying.
“Phillip,” Thomas says softly.
But Phillip is already pulling out, falling backwards off the bed and stumbling to the bathroom. He slams the door and locks it behind him, then lets himself sag against it until his bare ass hits the tile floor.
————————-
Phillip never understood what went wrong. For months, he and Thomas had been inseparable. It began that moment in the changing room, then later that night when Thomas took him to the pubs, before they ended up back at his tiny rented flat. The next morning, Thomas told him to go get his bag and his guitar and come stay with him for the rest of the semester rather than the dorm Phillip had been assigned. Phillip could think of nothing better.
During the day, Thomas would work at the shop while Phillip took classes. But at night they would cram their six-foot frames onto Thomas’ mattress on the floor and fuck. Thomas would fuck Phillip, then taught Phillip how to fuck him back. They would casually suck each other off first thing in the morning. Stroke each others’ cocks idly while watching on rotation the same three movies Phillip had downloaded onto his laptop.
They would eat bad takeaway meals and drink cheap beer that Phillip would insist on buying every night. His parents gave him a credit card for a reason, he figured. Otherwise, Thomas would’ve been satisfied eating instant noodles every night. No wonder he was so thin!
They would spend long hours on the building’s rickety roof deck when the weather turned nicer. They would talk about everything and nothing. Thomas would spend hours running his fingers through Phillip’s hair. He would nibble at his oversized ears and whisper that they were Phillip’s best feature, despite the rest of the world making him feel like they were his worst. Thomas would kiss his nose and say it was noble.
Sometimes Phillip would tell Thomas about his crazy family. About his over-involved mother who knew no boundaries. About how his dad was always at the store. About the neurotic big brothers and sister who acted more like aunts and uncles. About how he missed them, even if it rarely seemed like they ever missed him.
Thomas would hum and say Phillip was lucky, but he would never elaborate. Thomas never said much about his own family or how he grew up. The only thing he would talk about was how beautiful Harrods was, and how the department store sold everything a person could ever want. How Thomas was lucky to have the job. About how wonderful it was that Phillip got to come to England for the semester. But Phillip’s sister Wendy had gone to Italy and his brother Judd got to go to Austria for their semesters abroad. Phillip said Thomas was the only thing that made his travel interesting. Thomas would roll his eyes and call Phillip his little prince.
Phillip started making plans in his head that spring. About how he would go home and pitch to his father that they open a sporting goods store in England. Phillip could run it. Or if that didn’t work, he was sure he could talk Thomas into spending the summer with the Altmans at their little place in the Hamptons. It wasn’t much, but it was only a few blocks from the beach.
Phillip didn’t realize then that Thomas would have no use for him the moment he got on that plane. Maybe he just went into the changing rooms and found a new guy the following week. Who knew? All Phillip knows now, as he sits on the cold tile floor of the hotel bathroom, is that he should have listened to the nagging part of his brain because this was a huge mistake.
—————————————
“Phillip? Phillip, please... open the door. Don’t make me call the front desk.”
Phillip knows he fucked up, but he can’t look at Thomas right now. Can’t look into those green eyes. Thomas doesn’t sound angry, just sad. Somehow that’s worse.
“Phillip, are you alive in there??”
“What?” Phillip’s voice is rough. “Yeah, I’m.... Yeah,” he sighs.
“Love, please let me see you. Please open the door.”
Phillip is exhausted. He feels like an idiot. Worse than an idiot. He wanted to fuck Thomas so well that he’d regret throwing him away. Instead he’d left him hard and hurting. Whatever anger he ever felt for Thomas is nothing compared to what he’s aiming at himself right now. Only the sound of Thomas’ soft voice pierces the drone of his own misery.
“I was young, Phillip. I could barely afford my flat, let alone long distance charges. I thought it would only drag out the heartbreak if I called. I was stupid. Phillip, please.”
Phillip reaches up to pop open the lock on the door but doesn’t move out of the way. He hears Thomas try to turn the knob.
“Phillip. Please. Do you want to know I regret it? I do. You want to know if I missed you? I did so much. Phillip!”
Phillip drags himself forward and opens the door behind him. Thomas is sitting on the carpet just on the other side of the threshold. There are tears in his eyes.
“I’d just moved into that flat when we met. First time on my own. I didn’t want flat mates after the nightmare of that group home I’d been living in. And on the day we met, I had just gotten over the trainee probationary period at Harrods. It was my first time on my own on the sales floor. And I’d had such a bad day, Phillip.”
Thomas’ fingers pluck at a stray carpet string near the bathroom’s threshold. He’s looking down, his bottom lip is wobbling.
“I miswrote orders. Couldn’t close a sale for anything. My manager called me an idiot and said I probably got the job because Old Man Bannerman wanted to bugger me. I thought for sure I’d be sacked that night. Back to doing food delivery or whatever. But then I spotted you. Gorgeous American with your stupid trainers and t-shirt. And I thought, well I’ve lost this job but I am going to have that man.”
This is just about the last thing Phillip wants to listen to, Thomas recounting his slutty adventures. Finding out he was just a conquest. A trifle. He supposes he should have understood that right away. Who finds their soulmate giving away department store BJs? But Phillip was swept away by Thomas’ beauty, and by the dictations of his own cock. And at least he’s getting the answers to the question that had been haunting him for so long.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you!”
What? Phillip is sure he didn’t hear that part right.
Thomas is a bit breathless now as he continues, “It all just happened so fast! You came home with me and you didn’t care about the state of my flat or that I had only one cheap suit and no dining table. You didn’t care about any of it. You only cared about me. And I thought... would it really be so bad to have this... nicety... this sweetness for a little while?
“But once you left, I still had to live, Phillip. Still had to work. God, I worked so many shifts that summer! Pretty soon I could afford to get real food into my icebox. Real clothes into my closet. And I thought...”
“What? What did you think, Thomas?”
“I thought... you were done having fun. You were adorable, to be sure, but you were a spoiled little boy. And I thought... you were done with your little European adventure. You’d settle back into your American life with your big crazy family and your... your summer homes and video games and convertible cars. How could I ever ask you to give that up? All that luxury. To be with some poor little shopboy. Fun for a semester, but surely.... not more than that.”
“You could’ve still asked.”
“No.”
“Yeah, you could’ve asked.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to live with one of the possible answers, Phillip.”
Silence lingers between them for a few minutes, until Phillip starts feeling his back ache. He’s still naked and cold. Thomas has thrown his checked shirt back over his shoulders but that’s all.
“You... you said. You said you fell in love with me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“No, but you said you did. You loved me.”
“Yes.”
“But you never even asked me. All spring I waited for you to bring it up. But you never did. You never even gave me a choice to stay. I wanted to stay, Thomas! I wanted so much for you to ask me. And when you didn’t, I figured I’d go home and figure out my own way to come back. Or bring YOU over!”
A scoff interrupts Phillip’s increasingly loud string of words.
“I remember you’d said that once. Bring me over,” Thomas smirks at the memory. “How did you suppose that would’ve worked, hmm? I just tell my new boss at Harrods who barely knows my face that I have to fuck off for a few months to shag my American boyfriend? Keep that job open for me until I get back? That I keep paying rent and utilities on my place while I’m, what, playing tennis with your mum or yachting with you?”
“We didn’t have a boat.”
“Oh, would you shut up. I was 18, Phillip. I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought it was done. And I had to keep on living. I was barely living, Phillip. For years. Even before you. Trading on my looks for free drinks or extra chips with my fish fry. And dealing with handsy managers and worse customers. But I always held onto the memory of that time with you as one of the happiest of my life. I knew we weren’t going to live happily ever after. My life up until then had been anything but a storybook, unless we’re talking Oliver Twist. But that spring... It was perfect... For me. I’m so sorry it wasn’t for you. Or should I say, that the ending soured it for you.”
“I’m sorry I was so shitty today.”
“It’s... I’m okay. I suppose it was silly to think we could just fall back into it for one crazy day.”
The reminder of an expiration date on this reunion makes Phillip flinch. Obviously this didn’t go anything like he intended. But there were moments with Thomas this afternoon that made Phillip feel more alive than he has in years.
“When do you leave?”
“Monday night. After the convention, I have two manufacturers I have meetings with.”
“And then you go back home to your partner? What’s he going to think?”
Thomas actually chuckles at that. “Get ready for the shock of your life, Phillip, but my partner is a woman. My former wife.”
Phillip knows his face is twisting up into a crooked mess of incredulity right now but he can’t help it. “You married a woman??”
“I know. Crazy. But Bea is wonderful, Phillip. Everything that I’ve ever needed. Just... not in a lover. I thought I could maybe be that for her. We connect on so many levels. She’s free with herself in a way that I hadn’t allowed myself to be since... well, since you. And Bea loved me and I loved her back. But it didn’t take us long to figure out it wasn’t in the same way. But by then we’d begun a business together. A little slice of heaven together actually, Phillip. So different from everything I’d ever known before. She paints rabbits, Phillip! Isn’t that absolutely absurd? And makes a fortune doing it!”
That explains the socks, Phillip supposes. He doesn’t quite know what to do with the rest of the revelations though. He’s heartbroken and yet happy that Thomas has managed to find some joy in his life. Phillip hadn’t realized how bad things were for Thomas back then. He was living pretty much how many of the students Phillip knew were living. But then again, those students also had family homes to return to, parents who paid at least part of their tuition, cars, clothes. Thomas didn’t have much of anything in that sad little flat but it felt like they had everything they needed. Anything else could easily be put on the Altman’s credit. It was idyllic. But Phillip thought it could last. Thomas realized it couldn’t.
“Can we... I can’t feel my legs anymore,” Phillip confesses. Thomas helps him unfold and stand up with minimal injury. Thomas is stronger than he looks. Inside and out, it seems. They make it onto the bed, where Phillip reaches for Thomas’ hands.
“Hey, look. I’m really sorry I was so shitty in bed just now. You know I’m not normally so selfish like that. So rough like that.”
“What are you talking about? I was having the time of my life! I thought you were playing some kind of a game, saying those filthy things. I came all over myself and the sheets, see? Right before you did.” Thomas pulls back the duvet to reveal the wet spot, now starting to crust over.
“It wasn’t until you ran off that I realized you were really upset. I’m so sorry.”
“No, this is ridiculous. You don’t have to apologize. We were kids. I think I’ve been draping myself in that hurt for too long now. I let it make me cruel. I’ve been pretty shitty to a lot of people and maybe using this as an excuse. I didn’t think about it from your perspective, not really.”
Phillip peers out the hotel room window at the other high rise buildings across the way. He thinks of all the other people in all the other rooms, with all their other triumphs and tragedies. He wonders if any of them are getting the same opportunity he got today. To heal a little.
As he turns back to face Thomas again, the slimmer man shifts his whole body toward him. He leans close, and raises his hands to Phillip’s shoulders.
“Can I do something? It’s silly perhaps. But it’s something the rabbits taught me.”
Phillip chuckles, “The rabbits, huh? Okay, sure.”
And that’s when Thomas brings his forehead in to press it against Phillip’s own. He just leans in and holds it there. Tears suddenly spring to Phillip’s eyes. How could he know? How could Thomas know this is what the Altmans do? To show love. To show sorrow. To show regret.
Phillip never showed Thomas this before. It felt too silly. Too personal and corny. But now, here Thomas is... holding Phillip against him as if he’s trying to pour his thoughts directly into Phillip’s brain. So Phillip does it in return. He thinks about how happy he is to be holding Thomas again. He hopes the other man can feel it.
“What if you stay for a little bit longer? With me,” he finally finds the courage to ask. He knows what the answer will be but he wants to ask anyway.
“Phillip, I can’t. I have Bea and our business. A family, odd as it is now. Employees who count on me. I’m sorry.”
Phillip opens his eyes to find Thomas staring back at him. At this distance, he’s nearly cross eyed and blurry. But he sees the color, that lovely seafoam green... maybe now touched with a hint of battleship grey from the clouds moving in just outside the window. Unshed tears cling to Thomas’ lashes.
“How about me, Thomas?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can ask me, you know.”
“I can’t.”
“Thomas. Fucking... PLEASE. Ask.”
Thomas brings his head back up straight, but his eyes are looking down. His fingers fiddle with the sheets now.
“Phillip. Would y—“
“Yes!” he says right before he grabs hold of Thomas’ face and pulls him in for a kiss.
They stay together, with their lips gently pulling and kissing for a minute, before Thomas says, “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I don’t even care. I’m just thrilled you were willing to do it. Look. I’m not going to drop my whole life or my family here either, Thomas. But... I want to see you again. Listen to me. We’re not kids anymore, you know. We both have some means now. Sporting goods might not be quite as lucrative as rabbit toys, apparently. But I CAN afford a plane ticket or two. And long distance calls aren’t really a thing anymore. And Skype. And if it doesn’t work... that’s okay too.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. Yeah... but it might. It might work.”
“In the meantime, I do have this room for another night or two.”
“Oh yeah, no, for sure. I’ve got some plans for that.”
Thomas smiles. It’s bashful at first, then widens out to stretch across his pretty face.
“Sounds delightful. But first, I need to get in the shower. And then maybe we get some food. And we talk a bit more. About what you’re up to these days. So you did get into your family’s sporting goods business after all? I thought you hated that.”
“Yeah, well... they kind of need me.”
“That right?”
“Absolutely. They’d be fucked without me. I’m a pretty big deal,” Phillip says with a crooked smile to let Thomas know he may not be telling the whole truth at the moment.
“Well, this IS exciting! I’ve never made love in the shower with a sporting goods tycoon before!”
“Lucky you then,” Phillip smiles as he takes Thomas’ hand and leads him to the bath. “After you, Rabbit King,” he says with a flourish.
“Oh nice! I’m the king of the rabbits! The bunnies are going to hate hearing about that one!”