Winter Help – Chapter Eight
#8 of Winter Help
"I've already told you that I don't need a woman around here to be happy." He said finally, "I've got everything I need right now. But what I'm feeling..." he trailed off, knowing what he felt, but unable to put it into words. "When you came over that hill in the truck, I felt like you were my knight in shining armor come to rescue me." He sat up and looked me hard in the eye, his ears flattening slightly to the sides of his head. "But I don't want to have to be rescued."
"I never put myself in that role," I said, more defensively than I wanted to.
"I know that," Bubba shot back, "I did."
I started to say something, then I shut my mouth, thinking. I'd be surprised if he couldn't hear gears whirring inside my head as I ran through what he'd just said. Finally, I said "Bubba, it sounds like you're telling me that you're having feelings about us that you don't want."
"Well, yeah," he said, as if it were obvious, "I thought that was what this was all about, right?"
I looked at him quizzically and cut to the chase. "Buddy, you're the least gay man I know. If you're having feelings for me, it's gotta be something else going on."
Bubba ticked off the points on his thick fingers. "I sleep in the same bed with you. I feel like I belong there, and if I try to sleep in my own bed any more, it doesn't work. I just lay there all night staring at the ceiling. And when you pulled my arm around you the other night, I didn't pull it back because I liked holding you. I like getting your coffee in the morning, and," he stopped for a moment, as if considering whether telling me any more was wise. Apparently he decided it was something he had to say. He blew out a breath and sounded like he was confessing his darkest sins to a priest. "I like it when I know you're watching me."
This was impossible. All of this was what I'd fantasized about hearing him say from the first day I met him all those years ago, but I never thought it would happen. And now, instead of taking advantage of the situation, it was my job as his friend to show him that what he was saying was bullshit.
"So what were you thinking about when you were jerking off in the shower today?" I asked.
"Caroline Masters and her magnificent tits," he said without hesitation.
"That sounds like a traveling sideshow act," I said. "And what do you think about when you're laying in bed alone staring at the celing?
"Jeana Marie's tits."
" You think about tits a lot, don't you?" I asked. He shrugged in a, "what can I do - I like tits," gesture.
I asked, "when you were holding me the other night, did you want to push it to the next level?"
"The next level?" he asked, "You mean did I want to fuck you?" I shrugged, and he answered his own question. "I don't know. I just like holding onto you, knowing that you're there."
I sighed. "I don't think you're gay, Bubba. I think you love me in a way you haven't ever loved any man before, and that's kind of freaking you out right now. I'm gay, you're just confused."
"So how do I get un-confused?" He asked, misery in his voice.
I smiled gently. "A whole lot of people want the answer to that question, buddy. And the answer is always the same. You've got to learn to accept yourself for who you are, and stop trying to be someone you're not. When you give yourself permission to love me, you'll feel better. Until then, you're stuck."
I got up out of my chair and sat on the ottoman in front of my wonderful, beautiful, troubled cousin. "Sit up," I said. He rotated on the couch until he faced me, his feet in front of him on the floor. I took his paws in mine and held them tight.
"You can let yourself depend on me, because I'm not going anywhere. I like it here, and until the time comes that you need me to leave, I'll be here for you." I took a chance and wove my fingers through his, my light fur contrasting with his dark. "I love you, buddy. I really, really do. And I love this place, and I love who I am when I'm around you, so don't worry about my going anywhere any time soon. " I let go of his hands and gently took his head in my hands. Tilting his head down slightly, I kissed him on the forehead then stood up, moving back to my own chair and re-establishing the boundaries that I'd crossed in my little speech.
"I've got to admit," I said, "Our relationship is unique in my experience, too. I've never heard of two men falling in love without there being sex involved."
"Is that what this is?" Bubba asked, his voice sounding stunned and distant, "Am I in love?"
"If you were gay or if I had tits, I'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat," I replied, "but with the two of us?" I shrugged. "I'm not sure."
"So how can we be sure?" he asked.
"Why do we need to be sure of anything?" I asked in return. "Why can't this just stay the way it is? Stop trying to label your feelings and just enjoy us for what we are."
Bubba thought about that for a while as he emptied his beer. "Drink up, " he commanded, "Neither of us really needs to be sober tonight."
"I seriously doubt the wisdom of that," I said, but I obliged him by draining my bottle.
We went out to the porch and managed to polish off the better part of a case of beer while listening to the local 4A baseball team lose their shirts on the radio. The ceiling fan kept the air circulating around us, but wasn't enough to keep from sweating in the ninety degree heat. When the sounds of the Grand Ole Opry started coming out of the radio at seven we went inside, hungry and tired from the heat.
Bubba moved toward the kitchen as he propelled me toward the back of the house. "Get cleaned up, buddy. I'll start dinner." Although I hadn't done very much after my morning shower, sitting outside in the summer heat still made me sweat all day long. Two minutes later I was standing under a stream of warm water soaping myself up when I saw Bubba coming in to pee. Through the plastic shower curtain, I could see his lumbering form stagger across the tile to the toilet, where he braced himself against the linen cabinet and let fly with a solid stream into the commode. "You're not jerking off in there, are you?" he asked, then giggled.
He must have had more beer than I did, I thought. He's never gotten silly before. "Not yet," I joked, "But I'm thinking about it."
"Try thinking about Carolyn Master's tits," he advised, "it works like a charm." I could see him bend over to wipe the drips off the rim of the bowl, then flush the toilet. The water instantly got ten degrees warmer, but I was ready for that. It happened every time he flushed the john, and that happened just about every time I was in the shower lately. Through the milky curtain material I saw him heading back out into the hall, back toward the kitchen.
A minute later I stuck my head under the shower spray to rinse out the shampoo, and I felt a cool draft pass over my wet, bare ass. The plastic shower curtain rings hit against each other with a clacking noise as the curtain was drawn back. I was surprised that I didn't feel alarm at this, but I guess there was only one other person in the house at the time, and I pretty much knew what he wanted.
I finished rinsing the soap out of my hair and turned around. Bubba was standing there big as day and naked as a jaybird, looking as out of place as he possibly could. He spread his hands imploringly. "I don't know what to do." He sounded like a little boy who'd been told to play a strange game without anyone telling him the rules. He sounded lost.
I took a step nearer to him, being very careful to not look anywhere below his chest, and I thought he looked nervous enough to jump out of his skin at any second. I reached out and touched his arm, feeling the fur rising on his arms. I pulled him into a hug, my head on his massive shoulder, his fur getting damp as it rubbed against mine. His arms wrapped around me instinctively like a baby clinging to its mother. For a moment I held the hug, then reluctantly let him go. Every horny little synapse in my brain was screaming for me to grab onto this amazing man and never let him go, but I did exactly that. I let him go, and stepped back.
"Do you know how much I love you?" I asked him. He looked back at me expectantly, not sure what was going to happen. At that point, I made what had to be the toughest decision I'd ever made. "I want you more than anything," I reassured him, "you are the hottest, most amazing man I've ever known, but I've got to know that it's not the alcohol talking."
I leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek, then opened the other side of the curtain and stepped out of the shower. "I'll finish dinner; you just get cleaned up and come out when you're ready. And," I said, turning around and mimicking what he said to me when I caught him jerking off, "I don't want you acting all weird around me!"