"Okay, so how did lunch go?" Eric questioned.
Kenneth closed the book he'd been reading and took a breath. He truly had to think of the answer to that question for he wasn't sure himself. After the kiss, lunch went by too fast. They talked about less explosive subjects other than what was truly crackling in the air between them and eventually Clifton went back to work until he left for the day when he wanted the plaster to dry. Kenneth was left, body tingling, cock hard and going crazy.
"I'm not sure."
"You're not sure? How can you not be sure? What happened? Tell me everything--don't leave anything out."
Eric beamed and drew closer. "And?"
"That's just it. We kissed. I felt something--something that told me I was doing the right thing and after he was nicer, sweeter. After our lips parted he was the man I always knew he was."
"But I know him--at least I think I do. He's going to go home and pull the whole thing apart and analyze it. Then he's going to come back tomorrow and he's going to be the same old Clifton he always was."
"How do you know that? He had to have wanted the kiss too, right?"
Kenneth said nothing. He placed the book beside him and rose to stand by the window. After he folded his arms over his chest, he tried deciding if he was going to keep going after a man who was so hell bent on running away. But he's loved Clifton ever since they were younger.
"I guess I'll wait and see what tomorrow holds," Kenneth spoke finally. "I'm not sure what to do next. I keep getting this feeling in the pit of my stomach and it scares me."
"Well, have you thought of what you're going to do once you do get to the point where you see it isn't going to happen--if it comes to that?"
Kenneth took a breath. "No--not until just now. I'd have to walk away. Life would go on. But after the lunch we've had, I want to be optimistic--I want to believe he can want me like I want him. I mean, you don't kiss a man the way he kissed me and not feel anything."
"That is true too. Okay, let me make you some dinner and we should call Jarrod and see how he's doing."
"Sure. Why not. Maybe I should talk to Jarrod about this--get his perspective on this too. I mean, he's young. He should have something fresh."
"Is that your way of saying I'm old?"
Kenneth laughed. "No. You're like--fine wine."
Eric chuckled adn dragged his fingers through his hair. "Yeah? Then how comes sometimes I feel like stale milk?"