We lay there for a while, my cock was still in him, and we were both breathing raggedly. Nate slowly blinked, and his eyes looked at me, dazed but gradually regaining clarity. Without a doubt, I could feel his body getting tenser. He raised himself, his arms on my shoulders. I couldn't figure out the look he had just given me before he removed himself from me.
Without a word, he just sat there for a couple of seconds with his legs on the side of the bed and stood up after I lightly touched his back.
Nate turned to me slightly, like he wanted to say something, but decided against it and just went to the bathroom. I heard him run the water in the sink and then, after a while, flush and shower. I listened with concern as I sat on the bed, greatly confused about what to do now.
I decided to keep moving forward.
.
I took my shirt and wiped myself of his and my cum. I wondered if joining him in the shower now would be inappropriate or welcome. I wanted to give him space, but at the same time, I didn't want him to be troubled by it.
I didn't know him well enough. Hell, I have known Nate for maybe two months now, and given his tough shell, I probably knew nothing. But now I've felt I've seen part of him that he himself didn't know he had.
.
My question was answered when he stopped the shower, and I could clearly hear him closing his bedroom door.
He left. I respected it.
. . .
Nate stayed in his room for the rest of the day. When I worked out in the hallway, I heard him talking. Without thinking, I stood behind his door listening, like a gossip girl, realizing he was on a call with Ashley talking about work. He told her the two of us had had a big fight, but it was nothing she needed to be concerned about. His ability to lie somehow struck me, but I understood the need for that.
. . .
The next day, we met in the kitchen around lunch. He looked at me with dark circles around his eyes and redness like he was crying. He wanted to move past me without a word. I was torn about it, but I let him in the end.
Tuesday, he seemed even worse. He looked like he didn't shower, brush his teeth, or do anything less important. He was in a baggy t-shirt and loose pants, hair all over, and his beard was slowly growing.
When this repeated the next day, his state was just the worst. I was pretty sure he hadn’t slept, washed, or even eaten more than those few pieces of fruit I saw him sometimes take up.
. . .
This was too much. I wanted to knock on his door dozens of times, but I couldn't bring myself to it once. So I decided to wait one more night.
I spent Thursday the whole day in the kitchen waiting for him. When he came down, I handed him his coffee and asked him to sit with me. He refused and tried to move past me. I had had enough. I was only hoping I wouldn't make this worse, but I thought it was already way too bad.
I took his mug, set it on the counter, and then embraced him. He stood there still, with loose arms next to his body, for a few seconds. Then I tightened my arms around him and put my forehead on his shoulder. I sensed his breath on my neck when I felt him sniff me lightly. Nate embraced me and breathed me in like something in him craved for it but was restraining himself. He started to shake slightly, and I raised my head to look at him, my hand caressing his cheek and neck. He looked at me with a sad face, holding me around the waist.
We didn't say anything. He then just slowly removed himself from my embrace and left.
.
That evening, I heard him shower. By this point, I decided that I needed to leave. The sooner, the better. I will call my friends in the morning and find something at any cost. If required, I will live in a different country. Anyway, all I need for work is a laptop. I don't want to break this man.
Before bed, I took a long shower, thinking about who to call, where to live, and how to say it to Nathaniel. I couldn't help but bring back memories from that morning three days ago. I started jerking off slowly but soon became frustrated from how it all ended, and instead of jacking off, I felt like punching a hole in the wall. So, I turned off the water, brushed my teeth, and went to bed like that.
. . .
I had already drifted into sleep when I heard in the silence of my dark room opening the bathroom door. I wondered whether I should pretend to be asleep when Nate came over to my bed and sat next to me.
I opened my eyes, and from the bathroom light shining in, I saw he was looking at the door.
"I can't stop thinking about it." Of course, I couldn't either, but I decided to stay quiet.
"What worries me is not the cheating, is not that I don't think about Ashley, I don't feel any remorse regarding sex. We already talked about us being fine with either of us having no sex and, if such need should arise, to pay someone to deal with it." I raised my eyebrows and sat on the bed, letting him talk. Honestly, I was a bit speechless anyway.
"You may think it's cold or weird, but we honestly never cared. Not since we've been married. I believe we were both asexuals when we met, and I was happy that we found each other. I know it's kind of a trend now, kids exploring their sexuality saying they are asexual, gay or straight, maybe even bi or pan, trans, or whatever they feel fits for them in-between, and it is incredible to have such freedom! To be able to get to know oneself. But when I, or Ashley for that matter, was that age, being without lust for someone was non-existent. We both had tough times pleasing our partners and the expectations of the world around us. And it took us years to admit it to ourselves and even longer one in front of the other." Nate stopped and looked at me.
"So, you know I don't care for labels. Even more, realizing that I crave sex with another person than my wife isn't the biggest issue. What troubles me the most is that I crave you. Not only are you a man, but you are also Ashley's brother. You are the one person she cannot stand and the one person I could hurt her probably the most by being with." He stood up, putting his arms around himself.
"Now... Not only do I deal with an identity crisis, but also over the worst person possible... You know, coming out as asexual in front of Ashley…" he paused and started talking to the dark wall in front of him.
.
"I honestly cherished her and married her mostly because she didn't ever guilt me for little interest in sex. But, on the other hand, telling her I am asexual was one of the most excruciating things in my life. The only solace was that it gave us both a chance to come out, well... in a way. But coming out to her again, not only as gay but as gay sleeping with her brother, she hates for..." Nate's words stopped suddenly as if he nearly told more than he should. I wanted to know more. Maybe Ashley's reason for hating me would be more profound than my being gay. Perhaps I could have hated her less. I never knew about her being asexual. Hell... I don't know the last thing about the struggles asexual people may go through. Who knows if we could settle our differences over all that pain from us both being different from the norm growing up?
"She has so many unresolved issues with..." he corrected himself. "I don't know how she could bear with it. It would destroy her." He looked at me with a pleading look.
.
I put my legs on the carpet, sitting on the bed facing him, covered only by a blanket. Given that I was naked, I felt it would be better for him if I were to stay like this. I could see he had a storm in his head. I remember times when I was just slowly admitting to myself I might be gay and the turmoil within me. I wanted to give him all the time and space he needed, all the compassion and understanding he craved when he was now spilling all the guilt inside of him.
"You know," he said with a sad smile, "that vibrator you saw then. It was the reason I told her. At that time, we tried our best to make up for our lack of sex, thinking we needed to please one another. So, one evening, we saw some film or something where a couple used a vibrator to spice up their sex life, and I don't know which one suggested it, but it was one of those things, I suppose, we did because we thought it's expected of us. It was a disaster. The first time, we did it for each other. But when we tried it the second time, I broke down crying, telling her the truth. That night, we spent the whole night talking about it, about us. And that morning, when we lay there, I was intimately happy. That morning, I asked her to marry me."
Even though he was mentioning sex with my sister, I didn't care at all. All I heard was the pain in his words and loneliness. Maybe my idea of cold and lonely is very different from theirs, and that's why I disregarded all those fond gestures, caring and knowing one another. They lived platonically, but they may have had a stronger bond than I thought. It may feel cold and lonely just because there were no sexual connections, one I so value and connect with relationships. This talk of his uncovered much for me. But still, it didn't tell me anything about one thing. What are we? Me and Nathaniel
"Nathaniel. Please come here." I reached with my hand to him.
"I worry that if I come to you, I'll kiss you," he said in a whisper
"Then kiss me."
"Please, don't do this to me."
I let my hand down. "I will leave tomorrow."
He looked at me, shocked, like such a possibility was non-existent, and I just broke the universe. The fear, sheer terror in his eyes. I couldn't bear it. I stood up, a blanket falling on the floor, and I slowly came to him. He looked at my naked figure, frozen on the spot. I came over to him, taking his head into my hands.
"Nathaniel. If it helps you, if all you wish for is to return to your old happy life with Ashley, I will leave and never come back. I wish you all the happiness you can take. But if there is a chance you would spend your life regretting that decision, tell me now."
"How could I know, Rick? Before I met you, I was a happy, asexual man with an amazing, loving wife. How can I know if I will be able to go back? Fuck!... I know I will not! I don't know if I have always been gay, but so far in the closet, I didn't know. Do you know how many times, before you, I smelled another man's cum? None! All I know now is that I am confused, hungry for more, and ashamed of what it can do to her if I don't stop. I have no idea what to do now."
"Stop this." I pointed my index finger to his forehead. "You are spiraling. Let go. Breathe."
"Fuck you!"
"We can try that too," I smirked at him.
He looked at me, speechless, then he sighed desperately. "I am so tired." He laid his head on my shoulder.
"I know." I caressed his hair and embraced him.
.
"You are smelling my neck, boy, aren't you." I could feel his dick twitch at that comment, so I decided to act on it now. Not because I didn't care what he was saying but because I realized he was guilting himself into a downward spiral, and there seemed no end to it. I wanted to change his thoughts.
Nate raised his head, probably to hold himself back. "Don't stop, boy," I whispered in his ear.
He looked at me. Then his eyes grew bigger, sniffing the air. "You are turned on."
"That fucking nose of yours." I had to smile a little. It was true. I don't know how he does it, but it was true that at that moment, my dick did sport semi and started growing. "How do you do it?"