“Exploring,” Carl said softly. “Like you both got married because you were expected to live in a box, but suddenly you weren’t in that box anymore.”
“Yeah!” Michael smiled at him, relieved. “She was my best friend in high school, you know? And once she got over the sad part—”
“That you couldn’t love her like she deserved?” Carl filled in, voice gentle.
Michael nodded. “Yeah,” he said. That never got easier. “Once we pushed through that, and she knew I wasn’t trying to leave her in the lurch, and I still cared about her and the kids—once we got through that, it was like… like I got my best friend back.” He studied Carl unhappily. “I hope that’s not a problem. I mean, I would, eventually, really like to be more than friends with you. I hope the baggage isn’t too heavy.”
Carl shook his head. “No.” He looked down and swallowed. “I, uhm, I’m pretty sure you’ll change your mind, but your ex-wife, your kids? Those wouldn’t be problems.” He glanced up. “And anybody you’re with should feel the same way. You get that?”
Michael blew out a breath but decided to ignore the pessimism. He had the man in his apartment after all. “So the baggage isn’t a problem?” he persisted.
“It speaks well of you, actually,” Carl said with a small smile. “When I got my divorce, my ex asked me to forget her name.”
“Why’d you split?” Michael was dying to know. He couldn’t imagine getting tired of that low, rumbly voice or those fathomless green eyes.
Carl gave a shrug. “The real question was why’d we get together. We met in law school. I was getting paid by the insurance company to get my international law degree, and she just wanted the Esquire by her name. She had this idea of Mr. and Mrs. Lawyer, and then it turned out that my job was a lot of traveling and chasing down petty criminals, and her job included a lot of people who liked no-strings liaisons. And I wasn’t even mad about that, really.”
“’Cause you were gay?” Michael said, to clarify.
“I’m bi,” Carl told him mildly. “It was just… I would feel bad about the things the company asked me to do, and I’d balk on assignments or push back or get in the nooks and crannies. The company wanted things easy and quick, and life doesn’t work like that. So I didn’t make the money or get promoted the way she wanted, and I’d lost some respect for her because she wanted the money and the prestige more than she wanted the truth or to do the right thing. It wasn’t a good match.”
Michael stared at him, biting his lip. “Not a lot of people would take your way, you know that?”
“Chuck did,” Carl said.
Michael nodded. “Yeah, he did. He could have left me and my brothers high and dry.” He gave a humorless laugh. “My brothers probably don’t see it that way, but they’re gonna have some cash when they get out, so maybe that’ll change.”
“Are you going to visit them?” Carl asked.
Michael shook his head. “What for? So they can threaten my life for being a fag? No. No fun there. Fact is we could have all walked away from the job if I’d known they’d believe me. But they wouldn’t have. Chuck knew it, I knew it. I was way more fun to beat on than listen to.”
“That’s a shame,” Carl said softly. “You’re a lot of fun to talk to.” Then he ruined a perfectly nice compliment with a yawn.
“Here, you ready to go to bed? I can clean up—”
“I could honestly really use some stupid television,” Carl told him. “I’m falling asleep in my plate, but my brain keeps buzzing, and you’re looking awfully cute, but—” He yawned again. “—can we watch some TV?”
“There’s a smaller TV in my room,” Michael said. “The one in the living room feels like you’re at a movie theater. I can’t sleep with it on. You get your jammies on, and I’ll clean up.”
Carl nodded. “Only for a few minutes. I know it’s a terrible habit, but it really does put me out like a light. I’d feel like a bad guest if I just curled up in bed with my computer, you know?”
Michael laughed softly and shooed him off.
IT TOOK five minutes for Carl to nod off sitting in one of the stuffed chairs in Michael’s room. Dressed in a T-shirt and plaid flannel sleep pants, he looked helpless and dear, head back, snoring faintly, and Michael didn’t have the heart to rouse him. So he shoved his shoulder underneath the big man’s arm and they staggered the few feet to Michael’s bed. Michael laid him out and covered him with the comforter before turning off the light.
He was going to head to the guest room to sleep when Carl mumbled, “I’ll get up and go to my room in a minute.”
“Naw, that’s okay,” Michael murmured, coming to the side of the bed. Almost against his will, he smoothed a shock of heavy blond hair off Carl’s forehead. “You stay. I’ll go.”
“You could stay,” Carl said. “I only snore a little.”
“You trust your virtue with me?” Michael laughed. He’d made his intentions pretty clear, and Carl hadn’t seemed to react. Michael wondered if all of Carl’s looking inward was him studying to see what he really felt. Like all of his emotions were so deep inside he had to analyze them to know.
“Safe as a virgin bride on Fire Island,” Carl said, then giggled at his own terrible joke. Or maybe it was that he was exhausted and Michael’s words hadn’t really made an impact. That was fine too.
“Says you,” Michael told him, going to the other side of the bed and turning off the light. He’d already checked over the apartment; he’d had too many nights checking the house as a husband and father not to do that.
Too many nights as a convict not to enjoy the power of turning off all the lights and knowing he breathed free air not to do it either.
He crawled in next to Carl and turned on his side, studying Carl as he lay on his stomach, face turned toward Michael. It wasn’t a big thing. Certainly wasn’t a mind-blowing kiss or a hug or sex or anything. But it was… sweet. Like having the power to turn all the lights off, it was something to be savored. And Michael was exhilarated. This new person he was becoming, this Michael he’d made himself into, had boldly announced his intentions with a handsome, eligible man. Even though Carl was a little nonresponsive, he didn’t seem appalled by the idea either, and look at them—in the same bed. Platonic or not, it was a big deal, and Michael was quite pleased.
Then with a groan Carl adjusted his position in bed and said, “C’mere. You be little spoon.”
Heart beating like a trapped sparrow, Michael rolled over and backed carefully against that strong male body. Carl wrapped his arm around Michael’s waist and mumbled, “Can’t hurt, right? Just making the best use of the space, right?”
And then to make that a total lie, he buried his face in Michael’s hair and breathed in, squeezing Michael snugly against his hard body.
“Right,” Michael said, feeling a little faint. Oh wow. Wow. This was even better than he’d hoped for.
Behind him, Carl’s breathing evened out, but the arm stayed possessively around his middle. He closed his eyes and smiled, falling asleep as happily as he ever had in the world.