12. BRUNO

Settling onto the couch beside Danny, I leaned back and turned to look at him.

"So, how was your first day at the new job?"

Danny chuckled.

"Oh, you know, trying not to spill coffee on my new boss." He laughed. "It's not completely a new job. I know a lot of people there. But overall, a solid start. No complaints."

I laughed.

"I get the sense you're a no-complaints kind of guy, Danny."

He nodded his head from side to side.

"Maybe. In some situations."

"But a hard-ass in the corporate boardroom?"

He did the head-nod thing again. It was very charming.

"Maybe."

He stretched his legs out from the couch. I felt the surge of optimism in him. "But you know what?" he said, looking out at his feet in midair. "I've got a good feeling about this whole New York gig." Then, he turned and smiled. "A very good feeling."

Grinning, I mirrored his confidence. "I like the sound of that," I replied, my voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "You've got this. Got it."

We were talking like real old friends.

"Yeah," he murmured, still looking at me, that same smile spreading across his face. "It's definitely going to be good."

Evan was lying on the floor in front of the TV, not looking at it, rolling a toy truck on the floor. He turned slightly so that he could eye Danny with a cautious curiosity.

"What do you do for a job?" he asked him, sounding exactly like some eighty-year-old auntie.

Danny met Evan's gaze. "I'm an architect," he replied, watching for Evan's reaction. "Do you know what that is?"

Evan furrowed his brow in thought, five years old, not wanting to admit he might not.

"I think so," he fibbed.

"Cool," Danny said. "Then you know it's someone who designs buildings, right?"

Still very uncertain: "Yeah…"

"Yeah," Danny said brightly. "Like the ones we see in the city."

"You build those?"

"I don't build them myself exactly," Danny explained gently. "I kind of design them. I draw the plans and make sure everything's just right before the buildings get built. Other people build them, though I help them a bit as they do it, in case they make any mistakes."

Evan's eyes widened with sudden recognition, and he sat up.

"You do that?"

"Yeah, buddy, that's my job."

Without warning, my son sprang to his feet, bursting into song.

"Bob the Builder, can we fix it? Bob the Builder, yes, we can! Scoop, Muck, and Dizzy, and Roley, too, Lofty and Wendy join the crew!"

Danny turned and looked at me.

"What the…?"

I chuckled at Evan's singing as he marched around the apartment, singing the song at the top of his voice. I turned to look at Danny, both our heads back against the couch.

"It's a British cartoon about a contractor. He's obsessed with it."

Turning to Evan, Danny asked, "Do you like watching buildings being built?"

Evan's eyes lit up with excitement, and he stopped his song, running over the end of the couch.

"Yes. Diggers and cranes."

"Do you want me to take you to see one being built?"

My son took a little gulp.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Danny looked at me.

"Is that okay?"

"That's really kind of you," I said.

Danny shrugged casually.

"Nah, man, it's nothing."

But I shook my head.

"It's not nothing, you being nice to my son."

Our eyes were on each other, and then Danny tilted forward on the couch and looked over at the kitchen.

"So, what's on the menu tonight?"

I laughed.

"You'll have to wait and see!"

Sitting down at the table with Danny and Evan, I served up a simple meal of pasta and salad, accompanied by glasses of water. Evan chattered excitedly about his day at school, and suddenly, Danny was his best friend who definitely needed to know every part of his schedule.

"I played with my friend Tommy at recess today, and we built a big sandcastle in the sandbox!" Evan exclaimed, pulling his arms wide to show quite how big. "And then Miss Taylor read us a story about pirates, and it was so cool! But Eden said that pirates were bad people, but how can they be when they do such amazing stuff?"

He waved his hand in the air, brandishing an imaginary sword.

"I see what you mean about a boy's boy," Danny said to me, grinning. He turned back to my son, his attention fully on him. "That sounds a blast, Evan! Did the pirates find any buried treasure?"

Evan shouted yes enthusiastically.

"Yeah, they found a treasure map and went on a big adventure to a beach in the ocean, and they found the hidden treasure! It was an awesome story!"

He then pretended to stab Danny with the imaginary sword, who clutched his chest.

"Got me, me hearties!"

Evan burst into laughter.

"Me hearties!" he repeated as if that was the funniest thing.

"What else did you do, buddy?"

"We had art class."

Danny's eyes lit up with genuine interest. "I loved art class. Art class probably made me an architect."

"Really?" my son asked.

"And what did you do in art class, Evan? Tell me!"

Evan beamed at Danny's question. Like all five-year-olds, he loved talking about himself!

"I painted a picture of a big green dinosaur! It was roaring really loud and had sharp teeth!"

He made his hands into claws that were probably really meant to be sharp teeth, and then he growled.

I watched Danny interacting with Evan, and I saw his patience and kindness as he listened to my son. It felt like I had made a good choice, having him come here just as Evan was moving in full-time. It could have so easily gone another way.

Dinner was finished, and I let Evan do a bit of drawing, which he kept showing Danny, who told him how good it was. I asked him if he wanted to watch some TV, but he replied he wanted to talk to Danny "all night."

"Yeah, but Danny might not want to talk to you all night."

Danny, who had been on the couch reading the New York Times on his phone, laughed, looking at me.

"Well, now you've put me in an awkward situation!"

Evan looked at me, very concerned.

"I mean," I began. "It's not everyone's idea of fun talking to a five-year-old."

Danny turned around to Evan.

"We're cool, aren't we, buddy?"

"Yeah!" Evan went.

"Best buds now."

"Yeah!" Evan cried, looking at me very firmly. "Best buds!"

Danny looked back at me.

"You see?"

I laughed.

"Uh-huh, a regular parenting expert."

But eventually, it really was Evan's bedtime. I could see the telltale signs of fatigue creeping into him, his eyes closing a little as he talked, a slight crotchetiness that wasn't in his nature usually.

"Come on, champ, it's time to get ready for bed," I said gently, guiding Evan toward his bedroom.

"No!" he moaned. "I wanna stay with Danny."

"Danny will still exist in the morning," I said.

"I got tenant rights," Danny said as a joke to me, which made me laugh.

As I guided my son toward my bedroom, where he was going to sleep on my roll-out mattress on the nights Danny was here, Evan walked obediently. With him hardly able to keep his eyes open – too much excitement, I guessed – we went through the familiar routine of brushing teeth, changing into pajamas, tidying up his toys scattered across the floor.

Once Evan was nestled under the covers, his favorite stuffed bear tucked by his side, he looked up at me with hopeful eyes.

"Daddy, can Danny read me a story tonight?"

I wasn't going to say yes, but I was really happy he had asked it. It showed how comfortable he was with Danny here.

"Maybe another night, big guy," I replied, brushing his hair with my hand, something that comforted him and helped him drift off to sleep.

Evan's disappointment was fleeting.

"Okay, Daddy," he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy with drowsiness.

I reached for his favorite storybook, its pages worn from countless readings. Opening it to the first page, I began to read its story of a white bunny rabbit searching for his lost parents in the enchanted forest.

Evan listened intently, his breathing growing steady and rhythmic as sleep crept over him. With each page turned, his eyelids grew heavier until, at last, he was breathing gently, deeply, and fast asleep.

Tucking him in, I tiptoed out of his room, leaving the soft glow of the night-light on, which he liked. It made him feel safe.

As I went back into the living room, the soft murmur of the television greeted me. I found Danny sprawled on the couch, his laughter mingling with the familiar banter of an old episode of Friends.

I looked at him for a moment. He seemed so relaxed and carefree, so at home there. I found I was happy that he did. I loved it when Marlon came over and just acted like he was at his own place. That was different, I guess, but still, I liked that Danny was so easy and comfortable in my home.

My eyes ran over his long, strong body, his big, powerful legs spread wide, his feet in black socks. There was something oddly intimate about the sight of his feet, not quite exposed. He turned and looked at me.

"You okay, bud?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. Had he caught me staring at him? I knew I had to make things light. "Man, I was just looking at your feet."

"My feet?"

"Yeah, I mean, what size do you take?"

"I'm a 14, really, but they can be hard to find, so too often, I settle for a 13."

"Jeez, man, you're huge."

He looked down at his feet.

"Yeah, I guess I am pretty big. I'm big all over, I guess."

I gulped. I knew he didn't mean his dick, but even so, just saying it that way…

He lifted up from his position, drawing up his knees, to look back at me and my feet. "What size are you?"

"Nine," I said.

"Man, you've got lady feet."

I laughed, fake-shocked.

"Shut up! I do not!"

He was grinning.

"You got lady feet!"

"No way!"

Then, he lifted one of his feet up.

"Put your foot up against mine."

I felt the twitch through the whole of my body.

"What?"

"Go on, let's touch feet and compare."

I felt it in every part of my body, that twitch, that flame of my own desire.

"I…"

"Go on, put your foot against mine."

I was in my socks, too, and lifted one foot so that its sole, through the thin cotton of my sock, touched his. His foot was warm and so large. He moved his toes forward so that they pressed against mine. Then because of the size of his feet, sheathed in his socks, he closed his toes over the top of my foot. He started to laugh, but I felt a pulse in my crotch. I felt it then: a real hunger, deep inside me, to be touched by him in other ways.

Our feet still touching, he cried, "Look at you. You're as small as anything, tiny feet, tiny waist, slim body, blond hair, pretty blue eyes –you're a girl!"

He was laughing, but I was looking at him as I pulled my foot from his and put it back down on the ground. Did he say my eyes were pretty? Did he say I was the girl? I felt flustered. I looked at the TV screen.

"What you-what you watching?"

I knew full well what he was watching. But the moment of what he had just said broke; subject changed.

"Friends. Do you like it?"

I nodded.

"I like it okay."

"We can switch to another channel if you like."

I raised my hand to show him it was okay.

"No, you're cool. Is it some kind of Friends marathon?"

"Just your regular four-hour nostalgia fest."

He pulled himself around so that he was sitting properly on the couch, then patted the seat beside him. I sat down but was very aware of him sitting next to me. It was strange. We had sat together before, but now I was so aware of him physically. I felt the need to say something.

"Sorry for the boring evening in." I laughed. "Life with a five-year-old is pretty boring most of the time."

Danny's response was swift.

"Nah, I had a great time with Evan. It might be boring, but it's also a lot of fun."

"As much fun as getting drunk and dancing in bars?"

I watched him to see what his response would be, but he just shrugged in a goofy, male way, totally unreadable.

"Different kind of fun."

"Yeah, but it's like this every night when he's here, and once he's here permanently, it really will be every night."

Danny thought about this. "We could hire a sitter."

My reaction was one of mild surprise, my thoughts momentarily clouded by Danny's use of "we."

"A sitter?"

"Yeah, one night I'm here each week, we can go out, leave him with a sitter, and then we can stay in all together the other night. That sounds good to me."

I wasn't sure about any of it, in fact. I had never left Evan with a sitter before, though Kelly had. Plus, a sitter was going to a big slice of my five hundred dollars, not that that was the main issue. I responded with a casual laugh.

"You should go out, Danny. You should make some real adult friends. You can't sit around here with me and my kid. You're in New York."

Danny glanced at me for a moment, and there was the vaguest haze of hurt in his eyes, although I knew he would never have admitted it.

"We'll see."

I nodded in acceptance.

"Okay, let me think about it." Then, changing the subject, I said, "I have some wine if you want a glass."

"Great."

Mindful of my son's presence, I added, "It really can only be one or two. I can't get too buzzed with Evan here."

Danny gave an easy shrug.

"No worries, I'm not one to get drunk at home."

"Cool," I said.

I went to the kitchen and yanked the wine from the fridge, got the glasses from the cupboard. I set them all down on the coffee table as Danny browsed through the TV options. A double bill of Seinfeld caught his attention. I opened the wine and half filled my glass, filled his.

As I handed Danny his and settled beside him, we shared a brief exchange about our mutual fondness for the show. The episode showing was the infamous "The Contest," known for its once-controversial story of how the main characters challenge each other to refrain from masturbation.

Each person decided that they could be "the king of the castle," and first Kramer and then Elaine dropped out. Danny was rocking with laughter throughout, and I did, too, but could not help but feel hot with all this talk about touching yourself, cumming, while he was right next to me. I swore I could still feel the electric touch of his foot against mine.

He belted out laughter at Jerry's declaration that he was still "Master of my domain" and Kramer's infamous "I'm out!" Amidst the laughter and the familiarity of the episode, I noticed something different this time – the sound of Danny's laughter.

It was a hearty, masculine laughter reminiscent of Marlon's; it almost covered me in the same way my ex's had. I felt its vibrations through my body, from my chest to my belly, and then I felt it – I can't lie – I felt it almost in my gut. I felt my penis thicken, and I knew I was getting fully aroused.

"Man, I wouldn't last two days," I heard him say.

I turned to look at him.

"Huh?"

"Not jerking off," he said, briefly glancing at me. "I wouldn't last two days not jerking off. Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Last two days."

Suddenly, I felt very overwhelmed by my desire for him, that desire that could go nowhere and be nothing. He was straight. He was just my friend.

"I don't know …" I mumbled.

He looked at me weird.

"Are you okay, bro?"

Still with the bro talk…

"Oh, yeah," I said.

Then he sort of went oh.

"You don't like talking about this stuff."

"No," I said. "No, it's fine." I shook my head and smiled to show it was all right, although I wasn't sure if it really was. I didn't mind morally; I wasn't a prude. I was just suddenly aware that we were talking about his cock hard in his hand, his semen shooting out of it, him in that moment of lust and release, and it was too much for me. I shifted on the couch, hoping to conceal my erection.

Unaware of any of what was going on in my head, Danny topped up our glasses. My first glass had only been half-full, but now it was almost to the top. I felt giddy already, but it wasn't the wine that was responsible for my light-headedness; rather, it was the simple act of sitting beside Danny, his laughter, my desire, our conversation about bodies and cum.

As the episode drew to a close, Danny's arm had slipped along the back of the couch. He wasn't putting his arm around me – he really wasn't – and yet, in that feverish moment, it felt exactly like that.

I felt a rush of desire spread through me. It was such a simple motion, entirely without meaning, but my heart quickened, my mouth was dry, my penis was rock hard. I could feel myself growing tense with unease – but also with an intense sexual excitement.

The air between us became charged with an energy he could have hardly known was there. I found myself intensely aware of Danny's arm almost around me.

Earlier, he had said that I was the girl, and I felt right then that I was the girl in the movies, in the dark, with the date, the boy, trying clumsily to put his arm around her, a prelude to a kiss. But that wasn't what was happening – except in my fantasy. And then suddenly, to my amazement, my cheeks hot, my breathing short, I ejaculated in my own pants.

I was astonished. I felt the sudden warm, wet spreading. Once with Marlon, I had ejaculated spontaneously while he was fucking me, but this had never happened on my own just through the proximity of another person.

I was overcome with a wave of embarrassment and doubt. What was happening to me? I was suddenly aware if I stood up, there would be a wet, dark circle around my crotch.

Without warning, I found myself pulling away from him, my heart pounding. I pulled my sweater off, knowing that I would use it to cover the evidence that just being close to him was enough to make me orgasm. I folded it quickly in my lap.

"I should probably head to bed," I mumbled quickly.

Danny's response was a bit confused.

"Oh, really? It's not even ten o'clock."

I felt like an idiot. Were my cheeks red? Could he smell my cum?

"Yeah, I think…" I looked at the wine glasses. "I think if I stay up much longer, I'll drink too much. I need to keep a lid on it with Evan here."

This seemed to satisfy him.

"Sure thing, Bru," he said. "Am I okay to stay up for a while? Do you mind if I stay up and watch some more?"

I hesitated for a moment, not because I minded but because I felt so overwhelmed by all that had happened.

"No, Danny, that's fine," I said, trying to force nonchalance. "This is your place, too, now."

"Good night, buddy," Danny said, his voice all warm and filled with camaraderie.

I got to my feet, holding the sweater in front of my crotch.

"Yeah," I murmured. I offered a strained smile. "Good night…" And then I added the word, "…buddy."