Reunification

The week after my first date with Zane the factory that he worked at closed permanently. During the tail end of our second date, his car started to act up; once before he took it in to get checked out, he suspected that the problem was the transmission. Zane had only paid $5oo for the car and said that he would just drive it for as long as he could before buying another cheap used car. N0t having a vehicle put a pin in our courtship, however, leaving us in purgatory.

Valentine's Day was approaching. I had never had a proper valentine before, but Zane and I were in an undefinable gray area where we were going on dates but not dating. We had briefly discussed what that meant in terms of Valentine's Day; Zane said that his goal was to make me his boyfriend, and that he was taking is slow for my sake, so that I didn't get overwhelmed. Honestly, I was relieved; the last thing I wanted to do was to jump into something serious just because we had good sex and didn't hate each other. I was in the depths of my winter-time depression alongside grieving the loss of my cat, Alistair; I was in no position to be a good partner to anyone.

Zane told me that he was going to be going to Arizona for two to two and a half weeks with his grandmother; they were driving down to visit family. I figured since he was recently unemployed and stuck at home until a verdict was reached about his car that a vacation was a great idea for him. I knew that he wasn't close with either of his parents nor his myriad of siblings; maybe the trip would do some good toward repairing some of those strained relationships. As an added bonus, I would have two and a half more weeks to sleep in until six o'clock in the evening on my days off and not be asked to be an actual functioning adult.

Before he left, Zane mentioned that he had gotten me a Valentine's Day present, but that it wasn't anything expensive; I ordered him two vintage Billie Holiday records off of eBay. When we'd gone to Barnes & Noble on our first date, Zane had told me that he collected old records, that he really wanted some Billie Holiday, but that he couldn't ever find vintage records anywhere. He said that he liked to hold them in his hands before buying them; in lieu of vintage Billie Holiday records he would settle for new ones, but Barnes & Noble hadn't had any in stock. Thankfully, I knew from my lifelong shopping addiction that pretty much anything could be found on eBay.

Zane really wanted to see me before he left; the problem was the thought of driving to Beaverton -- somewhere I'd never been before -- terrified me, not to mention that it was mid-February in Michigan and the weather was nothing if not unpredictable. Zane mentioned that he might ask his roommate if he could borrow her car, but it didn't happen. I would have completely understood if he'd seen my refusal to drive to him as a sign of my lack of interest/effort and decided to friend zone me or sever all ties completely; I was surprised when he was understanding and didn't try to guilt me into coming to see him. I knew that I was casting myself in the role of the villain, or at least the anti-hero, that if the roles were reversed, I would I would be upset.

We snapped every day while he was gone; it seemed like Zane was having a wonderful time. I've never really been one to feel the need to venture out of my safe space, but it made me happy to know he was doing something major for himself that was bringing him immense joy. While on vacation, he saw his dad for the first time in years; his dad was holding back tears at their reunion, which made Zane feel like maybe they could finally start to have a relationship, a healthy one at that. Zane started talking about wanting to move to Arizona; I told him I had no interest in living there. Not only do I not like extreme heat and humidity, but I do also not want to have to deal with scorpions, much less the snakes; I am absolutely terrified of snakes, even harmless garter snakes. I understood his desire though; the two times I'd been to New York I'd spent the entire trips wishing that I could send for my cats and my belongings and find a fabulous loft apartment. I'd love to be able to work from home, focusing on my writing rather than making pizzas for ungrateful drunks and crackheads. Something about visiting a place that makes your heart sing dissolves the walls of logic and practicality.

When Zane got home, he got sick. He didn't tell me right way, but his depression was also kicking in with a vengeance. While his car had been fixed -- cheaply -- he didn't have a job. He had previously mentioned possibly working at a factory nearby, but as far as I knew nothing had come of that. I was not much of a help to him; while my depression had lessened immensely thanks to a sun lamp and finding a -- so far, so good -- solution to my stomach problems, I was very much aware that I barely had my own life together and was not in a position to give anyone advice. I wanted to give him space to feel his feelings, but I also wanted to give him presents before the whole thing became irrelevant.

After watching a bootleg copy of the new Wuthering Heights movie on a torrent site, I became obsessed with the story and of course, Jacob Elordi, who played Heathcliff in the movie. I devoured the book in three days before deciding the watch newest adaption of Frankenstein -- which also starred Jacob Elordi as the Creature. I decided it was time to finally get around to reading the book; Walmart had had the tie-in edition previously, but when I went to buy it they were sold out; Meijer didn't have it either. The closest copy I could find was at the Barnes & Noble in Midland, but I was nervous about driving that far, especially by myself. There was always Amazon, but I'd canceled my Prime subscription, which meant that I'd have to spend at least $35 to get free shipping, and it wouldn't arrive for almost a week; Prime had spoiled me rotten.

Zane happened to be going to Midland and offered to pick the book up for me; I graciously accepted. He offered to bring me Chinese food -- my favorite -- but didn't want me to have to heat it up later since I was at work until nine o'clock, so he went to McDonald's instead. He wanted to come see me after work, but my place was a mess, and I had a lot to do when I got home; we decided to try again a different night. Maybe I should have prioritized seeing Zane after almost three weeks apart, but I am nothing if not a hermit. If the conditions aren't right -- for me -- then I prefer to be left to my own devices. I've never been particularly fond of my routines being disturbed, especially as an adult.

The next day, Zane said he would come see me for a little bit; he wasn't in the greatest headspace, but he wanted to give me the book and my Valentine's Day gift -- and see me, of course. He was hesitant about giving me my gift; he felt like I would think it was stupid. The only clue he'd given me was that it was something that I'd said that I wanted; I assured him that if I had specifically said I wanted it, then I had meant it. I waited an hour two before he told me he wasn't coming, that he was having a hard time staying awake; I wasn't mad, I understood how depression worked and knw how exhausting vacationing is.

When Zane walked into the lobby at work the following night, I immediately noticed that his hair, which had grown longer, was starting to curl. I was jealous; the only way for me to get curls was to get a perm, but that always damaged my hair. I saw that he was caring a brown Barnes & Noble bag as well as what looked to be a bouquet of flowers. As he handed over the gift, I could barely conceal a squeal of excitement: he'd gotten me the Chucky and Tiffany plush bouquet that I'd wanted. I am a lifelong horror fan; it was perfect! "Aw, thank you!" I exclaimed before turning to the ice machine and picking up his records, which were tucked under my cardigan.

"What are these?" he asked as he took the garment from my hands. "It feels like vinyls. Are they vinyls?"

"I don't know," I replied with a shrug, "open it up and look."

"Is one of them Billie Holiday?"

"Maybe..."

Zane pulled the first vinyl sleeve out and his face lit up before he glanced at the second. "They're both Billie Holiday!"

He sat down in the lobby and looked the records over, his eyes alight with excitment. I was glad that I had succeeded in giving him good presents; all I had known was that he didn't have any Billie Holiday records. I couldn't be sure if the two that I'd gotten him -- Lover Man and The First Verve Sessions were what he had wanted, but after perusing the track listings he assured me that some of his favorite songs were on there.

When I got out of work, we went to Bay City. I needed to deposit my paycheck and I was looking for a pair of gold hoop earrings; it could have waited until I was in Bay City on Sunday, but I tend to get hyper fixated on something and can't stop thinking about it until I have it in my possession; then it's on to the next thing. I was able to find a pretty pair for cheap at Walmart before we headed to the bank and then Meijer. It was nice having Zane chauffeuring me around and giving me attention; I wished that I could be a normal person and return his affection instead of being cold and mysterious.

I went to unlock my door when we got back and was surprised when Zane came up behind me carrying my groceries. I couldn't help but wonder, was it wrong of me to not only allow but also enjoy that he treated like a princess? I hurriedly put the groceries away and stripped out of my Karl Lagerfeld ensemble before climbing under the covers. It was cold in my apartment; I don't like to leave the space heater on when I'm not home even though it automatically shuts off if it falls over -- and with cats that's a distinct possibility -- I preferred to err on the side of caution. I always joke that if there was ever a fire, I wouldn't have enough time to gather up all of my cats, my autograph collection -- including my signed copy of Barbra Streisand's memoir -- as well as my fur coat and all of my designer clothes, bags, and jewelry. I would be the idiot that perishes in the fire because I went back into the inferno for a pair of Givenchy earrings.

It didn't take long before the foot of the blanket was lifted and I could see Zane in nothing but underwear as he crawled under the blanket and then climbed up my body to hover over me. "Whatcha doing? Hiding? Tired?" he asked playfully.

"I'm cold," I replied, appreciating his extra body heat; despite being such a tiny guy, he put off some major heat.

I playfully avoiding his kisses for a while before giving in. After a few kisses he was sucking on my nipples; I found it hilarious that he liked sucking on mine, but when I tried to suck on his, his ticklishness took over, making him giggle and thrash around. My legs went up on his shoulders as he put my cock in his mouth, taking me deeply into its warm depths. I knew that he enjoyed giving me head, but he what he really wanted to do was eat my ass; unfortunately for me, getting eaten out would not make me cum.

While Zane was sucking me off, I grabbed my phone and took a few pictures; I should have asked for consent first, but he didn't mind. He peered up at me with doe eyes, my cock filling his mouth. After a minute or two I took a video before sending it to him on Snapchat; the way that he looked up at me made my blood burn with lust. He was giggling when he took a break to let his jaw rest; his lips were plump and red, a tear rolled down his nose. He started jerking me; it felt good, so good in fact, that I felt myself about to cum.

"I'm gonna cum!" I warned him, bracing myself for my release. He took me back in his mouth and kept sucking. After I came, he sucked on the sensitive head; I had to grip his arms to keep myself from twitching uncontrollably. As I bathed in the afterglow, I felt Zane hunker down where he was. He kissed and sucked on my cock, perfectly content to worship me.

"See?" He said, taking a breather. "I really like playing with your dick, too. You don't even have to be hard."

It felt good, but after what seemed like a long time, he went and laid down beside me, the wicked gleam still in his dark brown eyes: I knew exactly what he wanted. "So...do you need to shower before I eat your ass?" he asked, grinning devilishly.

"I don't know, do I?" I teased. The last thing I wanted to do was move, but I knew that if he was going to be down in my hole that I definitely needed to freshen up.

"Probably. Your balls were a little salty."

"Uh oh."

"I don't mind it. But..."

He went back to worshipping my cock and sucking on my balls until I finally said, "I thought you wanted me to take a shower."

"Are you going to?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then." He stopped what he was doing and laid down beside me on the bed. "I'll keep this." He grabbed my bathrobe from amidst the tangle of sheets and blankets.

"I need that," I protested, "it's cold!"

"I'll bring it to you after."

Grudgingly, I got up. Immediately the cold set in and I felt goosebumps rise on my flesh as I hurried into the bathroom and climbed under the stream of hot water. A couple of minutes later, Zane came in and set my robe out for me.

"I just wanted to watch you walk away," he said, raking his glance over my wet, naked body. I was going to invite him in, but he turned and went back to bed, so I didn't worry about it.

When the hot water ran out -- after about five minutes -- I dried off and donned my robe before slathering leave-in conditioner in my hair and putting on a silk bonnet. I went back into the bedroom and burrowed under the blankets, relishing the warmth. Zane put his phone down, leering at me lasciviously. I heaved my body up and moved over to hover over his face. His tongue found my hole almost immediately, wringing out whatever tension was left in my body. Zane gripped my thighs tightly, going all in. I moved my hips a little against his tongue, turning him on even more.

Before long my hips started to hurt -- I'm old -- so I climbed off of his face. Zane looked at me quizzically. "My hips were hurting," I explained, laying on my back.

"I really wanted you to actually sit on my face," he replied, his breath husky.

"Just eat it from the front," I shot back, stretching languorously.

"It's harder from the front."

Despite his words, he pulled my legs up onto his shoulders, pushed my hips back so that I was rolled up, and started eating me out again. I glanced down and grew sad when I saw how fat I looked; leave it to me to be critiquing my body while I'm rolled up like a chalupa, getting my ass eaten by a very cute guy who thought I was hot.

After a couple of minutes, I realized that he was right, that this was not a comfortable position for either of us, so I rolled onto my stomach and got into downward facing dog. Zane repositioned himself and went to town eating my ass. Occasionally he'd smack my ass to watch it jiggle and reach around and jerk my dick a little; I'd told him earlier that getting eaten out didn't turn me on, that it just felt relaxing to me.

When Zane came up for air again I knew that it was time to take a break. I threw my bathrobe on and got out of the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking hot with a wet spot on his chin.

"I'm going to play my game for a while," I replied, turning on my PS4 before switching all of the lights off so that we were in total darkness; the perfect environment to play a horror game.

"I can eat you out while you do that."

"No, you can't," I replied. "I need to be close to the TV, I'm old and can't see."

"Put your glasses on."

"I will, but still, I see better up close."

The newest Resident Evil game -- Resident Evil: Requiem -- had just come out a week before; I was dying to play it. Everything I'd seen about it made it seem like an amazingly creepy game, just what I wanted from a Resident Evil game. I felt like after the fourth installment, the series had become more action than horror, until the previous two games -- Resident Evil 7 and Resident Evil: Village. I was trying to be better about spending my money carelesly; the new game was $80, so I'd decided to replay Resident Evil 7 and Resident Evil: Village first. I figured it would take me a month or two to beat both -- I was trying to focus more time on reading -- which would give me time to save up money for it; playing those games would barely sate my hunger, stoking the fire so that when I finally did play Resident Evil: Requiem it would be like finally having sex with someone I'd wanted for years. Sometimes the anticipation makes it that much better in the end.

I took my contacts out and swapped them for my glasses before coming back into the bedroom. I sat on the floor in front of the bed as the game started. Zane came to lay at the foot of the bed, watching with interest. My bony ass dug into the wood of the floor, making me uncomfortable; I knew the pain wouldn't go away unless I got up , so I moved back to the bed, but it quickly became clear that I should have stayed on the floor; I couldn't read any of the documents I found or the text, and I kept missing things that should have been plainly obvious. As the game progressed, Zane helped me find out where I needed to go and what I needed to do while asking questions that confused me.

"Have you never played a Resident Evil game before?" I asked, not looking away from the creepy house on the screen before me.

"No," Zane replied. Sometimes I forgot that he'd been homeschooled, that his mom was incredibly religious and hadn't let him experience things that I took for granted. There were a lot of movies and TV shows that he'd never seen that made me annoyed because they were core media, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sex and the City. I tried my best to explain that the game I was playing was more of a horror game than the others, that while it didn't focus on zombies, it had the elements of several horror movies like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Saw, and The Evil Dead.

About an hour into the game, Zane asked me what time it was. I glanced at my phone; it was almost two AM. "Shit!" he exclaimed, standing up and rustling through his clothes.

"What?" I asked, not looking away from the game.

"I think I forgot my house key," he replied. "I took it off of my key ring because my car was at the shop while I was gone; I took the garage door opener out, too. Gabby is definitely asleep by now."

"Why don't you call her?"

"I don't want to wake her up."

"Are you just inventing drama, so I'll have to let you stay the night?" I teased.

"I might have to. My only other option is to drive home and hope they left the door unlocked for me. If not, I'll have to sleep in my car."

"It's too cold for that."

Zane staying the night wasn't a huge deal; he'd done it before. My stomach was feeling decent and it wasn't like I had to work until three o'clock in the afternoon. I tend to not sleep the greatest with someone in my bed, but I didn't want to kick him out and make him freeze in his car.

When I started to get tired, I shut the game off and went to brush my teeth and put my face creams on. "Where's your toothbrush?" I asked, dabbing my nighttime moisturizing on.

"It's in the car."

"You need to brush your teeth," I told him, sounding like a schoolmarm.

"I brushed my teeth before I came over," Zane slurred from the darkness of the bedroom. It sounded like he was already half asleep.

I wanted to point out that that was seven hours previously but didn't want him to think that I was shaming him. I can skip brushing before bed once in a while if I'm alone, but I refuse to breathe dragon breath on someone all night.

I got back into bed, turning the lamp on beside me when I remembered that if Zane left his car on the street, it would probably get towed. "You might want to move your car," I cautioned, "it might get towed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. If you move it by mine, though, it'll be fine."

I should have offered to move the car for him, but I've always been uncomfortable driving other people's vehicles; the last thing I want is to be responsible for any damage that might occur.

Zane dragged himself out of bed and threw clothes on. I thought it was funny how grumpy he was when he got woken up. "I was almost asleep," he grumbled. He came back a minute or so later rejuvenated. I planned on reading Frankenstein for a while, but Zane was chatty. "Can I get a kiss?" he asked, invading my space.

By that point, I was suddenly very tired and just wanted to go to bed. "No," I said, switching the light off.

"Come on, it's just a little kiss," Zane crooned in a silly voice. "I just want a kiss."

"No."

"Come on!"

"No."

Zane gave up trying. "Okay, then," he said, sounding only mildly disappointed. I reached over him and took my melatonin. Within minutes I was fast asleep.

I woke up a few times over the course of the night, but I was still asleep when my alarm went off at one PM. As I rolled over to shut it off, I noticed that Zane was up and on his phone.

"How did you sleep?" he asked. "Better than last time?"

"Kind of," I replied. "I still woke up a few times, but it was a lot better."

After I emptied my bladder I got back into bed, fully intending to read until two o'clock. Zane started touching me; before I knew it, he was sucking my dick again. Twice in less than twenty-four hours? What had I done to deserve that?

I came in his mouth again, but thankfully, this time, he didn't keep going, overstimulating me. "I'm gonna head out," he announced, getting to his feet and pulling his clothes on. He went into the bathroom and fixed his hair while I struggled to get my legs to work.

My cousin Courtney texted me, replying to a text I'd sent the night before suggesting that we go see Wuthering Heights together. It was one of her favorite books; I'd already seen it, but I wasn't opposed to going to see Sexy Daddy Jacob Elordi on the big screen. Courtney said that she was down to go and asked if the 4:30 showing worked for me; it did.

I had previously suggested Zane I go the movie. "My cousin, Courtney, wants to go see the movie tomorrow," I said, stretching. "Do you still want to go?" I knew that he was in a depression rut and didn't want to be around people much, especially new people.

"Sure," he said, trying to wrangle his unruly curls.

"Great. Does 4:30 work for you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll let her know."

I was excited to introduce Courtney to Zane. She and I were fairly close -- she's six months and two days older than I am -- and I knew that she would be kind to him; she would just be happy that someone thought I was amazing, not question whether he was good enough for me or not.

Zane stood at the food of the bed, his eyes saying that he wanted me to walk him out. Instead, I pulled him down onto the bed despite his laughing protestations and sat on his face. He gave me another work over for a minute or so before he lifted his head, smacked my ass, and said, "Okay, I'm going."

I walked Zane out to the parking lot, dreading going into work; I knew it was my Friday, that all I had to do was get through seven, maybe eight hours and then I'd have my two days off, but I was over it and the never-ending drama. Zane turned to me. "Are you going to give me a kiss now? Or are you going to deny me again?"

I hadn't brushed my teeth yet, but I figured that since we would both have dragon breath and it was just a peck on the lips that it would be okay. Still, I had to be a brat -- for the plot. "I don't know," I replied, shrugging.

"Come on. Just a little kiss," he pleaded, pouting.

I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "There," I said, acting put-out.

"Finally. Thank you," he said, beaming. "Okay, I'm going to head out. Bye."

"Bye." As he walked away, I called out, "4:30 tomorrow!" to his retreating form.

Once I was back inside, I reflected on everything. It was obvious that I liked Zane and that we had good chemistry, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that I was in the beginning stages of love with him. I appreciated that he allowed me to be a brat and a diva, that he obviously cared for me, I just wasn't sure how to proceed from there. I couldn't just throw all of my caution to the wind and love him; I had to protect myself and my heart and act indifferent. I didn't think he would ever do anything to intentionally hurt me, but I'd thought that about all the other guys, too, and somehow, they'd all managed to hurt me.

Later that day, I got a snap of him playing one of the Billie Holiday records; I was glad that he loved his gifts so much.

Time will tell what will happen between Zane and me. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't gotten sick of my attitude yet and blocked me. The good thing is that he seems to understand -- for the most part -- that I'm joking and that I don't particularly mind having him around. I'm a creature of habit, I thrive on my self-subscribed routines and rituals; Zane disrupts those routines and rituals, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it freaks me out a little inside. As I've said previously, it would not surprise me to find out that I am on the autism spectrum.

All I know for certain is that I don't want to cut him off; I don't want him to go away. I enjoy having his companionship -- as well as the sex -- which has to mean something. Hopefully with time I'll be able to let my guard down and allow myself to have feelings for him. He's a great guy; I'd be insane to shut him out and chase him off. I am used to having to pursue guys, though; I have wondered if I'd be more comfortable if he wasn't so openly into me, if I had to chase him. Sometimes I worry that I'm so used to drama that I don't know how to function in a situation where there is none. All of the relationships I grew up -- tangentially -- around were toxic in their own way; I've never been around a healthy relationship enough to know what it should even look like. I grew up with fighting and screaming and threats to move out; how can I have a quiet relationship when I'm used to tempestuousness?

At the end of the day, I'm hopeful -- and pretty certain -- that we'll be okay. Once I realize that Zane isn't going to run away, once I can relax and feel safe, comfortable, and grounded, I'll be able to stop living in my head and allow myself to be open and vulnerable with him. Who knows where life can take us?