The morning was a blur.
My alarm clock went off at 5:30 am, startling me out of a deep sleep and vivid dream. It took me a minute to recognize my surroundings; it wasn’t until I noticed the book of vintage photographs on the coffee table that I finally remembered where I was. Pulling myself off the couch, I found my suitcase in the corner and began to dress, layering on some dry-fit shirts and joggers while digging out the heavier ski pants and thick, snow-proof gloves.
Behind me, I heard a series of cheerful beeps as the coffee maker, preprogrammed the night before, kicked on and began brewing. I listened to the friendly gurgling sounds of the machine while pulling on a pair of thick wool socks. I stood just in time to see Marcus shuffle into the kitchen.
“Mmuh,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. I smiled to myself, assuming this meant good morning. I returned the greeting and asked how he slept, to which he gave me a groggy thumbs up. I don’t know how else I pictured Marcus at 5:30 in the morning, but this felt like the only possible outcome. Sam strolled in a few minutes later, as energized as I’d ever seen him.
“Morning!” He greeted me brightly. Marcus robotically handed him a mug of coffee while Sam kissed him gingerly on the cheek. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. That couch is comfortable.”
“Good! I’ve definitely fallen asleep on it many times. Coffee?”
“Please,” I said.
We gathered our things, steered by reminders from Sam’s meticulous mental checklist, and made our way through the labyrinthian corridors of the apartment complex until we reached a parking garage. Sam led us to a decked out 4-runner and threw his bag into the back. Marcus, insisting I take shotgun, crawled into the back seat and was asleep before Sam put the car in reverse.
We pulled onto the highway in the blue light of early morning and joined the throngs of Denverites making their weekly pilgrimage to the mountains. Sam had insisted we hit the road by six, otherwise the traffic became so bad we’d almost certainly lost our morning to the road. Lord Huron played quietly while we sipped coffee from our thermoses.
“It’s nice having someone else awake on this drive,” he mused. “I’m not used to that.”
I chuckled, looking into the seat behind me. Marcus slept, curled up impossibly in the seat.
“Yeah, is he always this lively in the mornings?”
“Always,” Sam laughed affectionately. “I let him sleep, though, and he’s usually fine by the time we get there.”
“That’s generous of you. I’d definitely make him wake up and keep me company.”
“See, that sounds nice until you have to deal with him at 2:00 pm when he’s cranky and needs a nap.”
“Touché,” I laughed heartily. “You’re very awake, though.”
“I’m a nurse,” he reminded me. “This is just my normal morning.”
We spent the ride drifting in and out of a comfortable silence. When we did speak, it was something breezy and snowboard-related – Sam’s favorite mountains, my last snowboarding trip, the craziest wipeouts we’ve had, that kind of thing.
“I’m pretty sure Marcus used to ski. Back in college, anyways,” I reflected.
“Yeah, he did. He was a skier when we first started dating. I remember taking him out the first day he decided to snowboard,” he chuckled at the memory. “He picked it up pretty fast. Not before regretting starting to date me, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, sounds about right,” I laughed. “I’ll probably be pretty rusty, so…feel free to leave me behind if you get tired of watching me eat shit.”
“I don’t know,” Sam smirked. “That sounds pretty entertaining.”
“Fuck you,” I laughed and the conversation lulled again. Sitting here, in the stillness of the car, I remembered my conversation with Sam on the patio last summer. That last morning. Talking about what happened. How refreshing it felt to say everything aloud. I wanted that feeling again. I’d spent so long waiting to see these two, I didn’t want to waste the weekend being too afraid to speak. So I continued: “Last night was fun.”
He looked at me and smiled. “It was. It was really hot.”
“Yeah, it was,” I nodded. “So much better than when I had that guy over.”
“Glad to hear it! I, uh…this might be weird to say, but I’m glad we, like, did it again. You know? The first night.” His hand fidgeted on the steering wheel. “Marcus and I had talked about it, you know. Whether we thought it was gonna be on the table again. I think we both thought it was, but you never really know. We didn’t want to presume. So, I’m glad. That it’s on the table.”
I smiled, touched by the sight of Sam’s slipping composure. It leveled something between us, made the friendship feel more real. “Me too. I think I had a feeling it would happen again. I mean, let’s be honest, coming to stay with you guys for a weekend, it was sort of implied. But I know what you mean…how do you bring that up, right?”
“Yeah, exactly! I know we never really talked about it after last summer. Did you and Marcus?”
“No,” I confessed, looking out the window. “No, we never really did.”
We were quiet for a second.
“You can talk to us about it. I know it might be weird bringing it up, but Marcus and I are really in a good spot. And we care about you. So I don’t think we’d care if you brought it up with one of us over the other. We’d just be happy you got a chance to talk it out.”
This offer hit me in the gut. I blamed the early morning for the heavy emotions I felt.
“I appreciate that. Seriously.” I paused, feeling a question linger in my mind, summoning the courage to bring it up. “You said you didn’t really like the anonymous hookups anymore?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, I went through my Grindr phase like every guy. But…” he shrugged, “something about it was so…incomplete. For me. Some of these guys would come over and, I swear, it was like they just wanted me to be their dildo for the night.”
I laughed at the unexpected metaphor.
“No, but really! Like, we barely made eye contact and then afterwards they just left. And after a while…well, it got kind of old. I wanted to connect with someone. Even if it wasn’t some great romantic evening, I still wanted it to be personal. You know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I do. I think I’m…sort of the same. Like, with you and Marcus, it’s just…I know you guys. And I care about you and I trust you, so the whole thing just feels so…” I paused, looking for the words. “Expansive. Alive. I don’t know, it means something.”
Sam looked at me and smiled warmly.
“I’m glad it does. It means something to us, too. Like, we’re not just out here having threesomes all the time. I hope you know that. We enjoy this because of you.”
“Thanks,” I blushed, embarrassingly. “I don’t know why, but that actually means a lot.”
Sam reached over and patted me on the thigh. For a moment his hand paused, and I wondered if he planned to leave it there. I think he wondered the same thing, because after a few seconds he pulled away and returned it to the wheel.
“Well, anyways, I’m glad Marcus initiated,” I said. “I don’t think I ever would’ve had the guts.”
“He is good at that.”
“He is,” I agreed. “I’m not. But…I think that’s something this is all teaching me. I want to learn how to be the guy who initiates. You know? If I want something, I want to get better at going for it.”
“Yeah?” Sam looked at me, his eyes bright. “What do you want?”
“I want…” I thought for a second. “To make the most of this weekend. In all the ways you think I mean.”
Sam grinned. “Then let’s do it.”
***More of this story and others are available on my Patreon. Follow the link below!
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
