May-December | Chapter Seven
The first thing Kyle did when he got home was to message Chaska.
Message to: Chaska.
I hope you got home well.
SUN, 9:00 PM.
Message from: Chaska.
I did.
SUN, 9:01 PM.
The blunt reply had thrown him off a bit, and he wasn't sure how to carry the conversation after that, so he didn't. He put his phone away and rolled up into bed, wondering if he had done something wrong along the line.
Monday rolled around and Kyle had to drop Otis off at school. The child was holding on to his project—a macaroni art piece his Nana had helped him to put together.
"It's lovely," Gabbie said when she took the work from Otis. Otis gave her a big grin, looking from her to Kyle before he disappeared into the nursery to look for Chaska.
"You're not going in? You usually meet up with Chaska," the lady said after a while. Kyle blinked, realizing he had been standing without purpose.
"I'm not sure I'm going in today. Thanks for asking though," he said, smiling at Gabbie who smiled back at him. He was still nervous about seeing Chaska. After their conversation on Sunday—or more accurate, lack thereof, Kyle had been wondering if he had stepped on Chaska's toes. So, he was deciding to leave Chaska be today, or maybe for a few days.
The man buried his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans as he walked down the stairs. He didn't have a call to answer today or tomorrow even, so he was free until Wednesday.
It had only been a few seconds into him getting into his car and putting on his seatbelt when Kyle's phone started buzzing. The man's eyes moved to his phone. It was vibrating on the dashboard, but it soon stopped before it rung out with the sound that meant Kyle had gotten a text message.
Kyle grabbed his phone from the dashboard before unlocking the screen and checking his messages.
Message from: Chaska.
You didn't come inside today. Did something come up?
Monday, 9:30 AM.
Kyle stared down at the message, wondering what to reply, but he couldn't think of anything. His mind strayed a bit, and he wondered in Chaska would mind if he called him now. The man had tried to call him at first, right? With a little hesitation, he found Chaska's number in his contacts and pressed the call button, waiting patiently in the driver's seat of his car as the phone rang.
"Hello?" The voice from the other end made Kyle's face grow warm.
"Hey," Kyle muttered into the receiver, winding up the window before putting his cell on the phone stand. "I hope I'm not bothering you," he added as he started the car engine and drove into the main road.
"Not at all. Gabbie's with the kids," Chaska said from the other end. "How come you didn't come in today. Did something happen? Did you have to head out for work immediately?" the man asked as Kyle looked out into the open road. The roads in town were always free save for the occasional trailer or minivan. Most people around didn't own cars, so moving around took very little time.
"No, nothing came up, I just didn't feel like going in today," Kyle mumbled. His voice was small. He was sure he sounded stupid, but he had done it because he wasn't sure if Chaska would snob him and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that. After the nonchalant response to his confession and the curt text back Kyle wasn't sure what Chaska thought of him. Leaving his house this morning he was very sure the man thought he was a bother, but now that he had called over something so small had Kyle confused.
Did he care or did he not care? Which was it?
Kyle was confused. One minute Chaska was cold and the next minute he was chatty and talkative.
"Oh, okay," Chaska said, and the call went quiet. Kyle even had to check if Chaska wasn't just talking or if he had hung up.
He was still there.
"Do you have anything doing today?" Chaska asked after the prolonged silence. Kyle heard kids in the background.
"No." He licked his lips, hoping the conversation was heading where he thought it was heading.
"Are you free this evening? I'm going to the gym. Do you want to come along?" The question made Kyle pause to take a breath. Was Chaska asking him out first? Was that what was happening?
"I'm free," Kyle muttered.
"Alright. I could drop Otis off at your mother's store for you, and we can head out together after that. How does that sound?" Chaska asked.
"It sounds great." Kyle's chest felt tight as he took a turn in the direction back home. This was a big deal. He had to clean up—made sure he looked decent. Maybe try his hand at making something since Chaska was coming over first. His face was starting to go numb from the smile that had formed on his lips.
"Alright, at four then," Chaska said when Kyle didn't add anything to his enthusiastic agreement.
"At four," Kyle repeated, watching as the screen of his phone cut off to the home page when Chaska hung up. He spent the next few hours of the day waiting. He sorted out the stuff in the corner of his attic room and went about warming up some food his mother had cooked when two in the afternoon started approaching.
He got into the most gym appropriate clothes he could find—some loose track pants he had brought with him and a stray shirt he wore to sleep on a normal day. Yeah, Chaska was going to figure out he wasn't a gym person from the looks of him.
Kyle tried not to let that bother him, and he moved to the living room to continue his wait. His mother texted him around two-thirty in the afternoon to tell him that Otis was with her. Good. That meant that Chaska was on his way.
The young man arrived at Kyle's door in the next half hour. Kyle met him at the door. The blond man tried not to pay too much attention to Chaska's arms. He was wearing a green sleeveless top over grey sweat pants. He had his hair done in a bun, and he was holding his kickboxing gloves as well as carrying what Kyle assumed to be a gym bag. They'd just stared at each other for a while until Kyle snapped back into reality and asked Chaska to come in. He had already set the table with lunch, and Chaska couldn't refuse since everything was already prepared.
"You didn't have to do this," Chaska said as he took one of the six seats at the dining table. Kyle settled down next to him, smiling at the man as he shrugged.
"I just thought you'd like something to eat first," he said, watching Chaska for a reaction. The man didn't say anything, but there was a light smile on his face, and Kyle took it as a win.
The table went quiet for a while, and then Chaska chuckled. "It feels like you're buttering me up for something," he said, turning to face Kyle with a mischievous grin. "Are you?"
"Yes," Kyle said, being honest. It was true. He was trying to get Chaska to want and like him. Unless buttering up had another connotation, then yes, that was exactly what he was doing. It seemed like Chaska had meant it as a joke because the man's grin fizzled off, and he took his gaze to the food in front of him.
"You're trying too hard. I'm not sure if I should be worried or flattered," Chaska said after swallowing down a spoon full of lasagna. "But I guess it's because I'm not used to people wanting to date me," he added, and Kyle frowned, raising a brow at him.
"What do you mean?" the blonde asked, leaning forward so that he could look at the expression Chaska wanted to hide.
"I mean, it's a small town. The people that want to sleep with you are all probably married or deeply closeted. It's not a fun dating market, that's for sure," Chaska muttered softly, picking at the stray vegetables on his plate as he nibbled his lower lip. "It just feels like I'm in some movie, that's all." His laugh was shaky. He sounded uncomfortable, so Kyle took it upon himself to change the topic.
"What are we going to do in the gym?" he asked, making Chaska look at him long enough to lock gazes with him.
"Regular stuff. Train," Chaska muttered.
"That sounds boring," Kyle said, making Chaska nod.
"Mhm. It is," he said, stuffing his mouth with food again. "It just gives me something to do besides going to work and walking dogs," Chaska said, covering his mouth with his free hand. Kyle nodded, pushing his plate aside before resting his head on the table. He could see that. Life here was so painfully dull.
"I don't know a lot about you," Kyle said, making Chaska look down at him with those his dark eyes.
"What do you want to know?" the younger man asked, pushing his empty plate away before resting on the table too. "Hmm?" The two of them were staring at each other now, their intense gaze on each other's faces.
"I don't know," Kyle said, feeling his heart rate speed up. "Anything?" Heck, Chaska could tell him about walking dogs, and he would find that interesting. It was only natural to want to know more about the person you liked.
"Okay," Chaska said, briefly closing his eyes and opening them back up.
"I used to play kickboxing competitively, but I stopped because of my ears," Chaska started. Kyle stayed quiet, waiting for the man to continue. He felt the urge to jump when Chaska shifted his chair closer, so his face was closer, and their tights were touching through their gym pants.
"I got beat up in the locker room. I suffered some blows to my ears, and broke some vital bones in the left one, and tore the eardrum in my right one," Chaska explained. He kept licking his lips. He seemed nervous. "I don't really talk about it," he said in a raspy voice, trying not to look at Kyle.
"I don't know what to say..." Kyle trailed.
"Say nothing, that works," Chaska muttered ad the dining table fell into silence. Kyle had a lot of questions. Like; why did he get beat up? Did he ever go to the hospital? But he couldn't ask those questions, he didn't want to make things more awkward than they already were.
"I can't drive," Chaska said, making Kyle blink before staring at the man. The man was smiling at him, and he smiled back, mirroring the man's expression.
"I'll teach you," Kyle said, following Chaska's lead of changing the subject.
"For what? It's not like I have a car," Chaska said, laughing as he let out a hum that vibrated through his body.
"My mum's dead," he said, making the mood go sore quick.
"What happened?" Kyle asked, breaking the silence.
"Drugs, "Chaska muttered in a low tone. "My dad's not dead but he's in prison for that," he said in a matter of fact tone as he adjusted his hands. Kyle's face had gone paperwhite now.
"A lot to take in?" Chaska asked, and the man nodded.
"I foster cats," the younger man said, and Kyle found himself smiling—the awkward tension removed by the quick change of topic. They talked about pets for a while. Kyle's ex-wife had wanted to get Otis a hamster to teach him responsibility, but the hamster broke out of its cage two days in and was never found again.
"Where do you think it went?" Chaska asked with a curious look on his face. He had on a little frown, and Kyle couldn't blame him. It sounded unbelievable
"We never found it, but I assume some neighbor's cat picked it up if it ever found its way outside the house," Kyle said, and Chaska snorted, shaking his head.
The dining table went quiet again, but this time it was a comfortable silence. Sometimes Chaska would close his eyes and Kyle would find his face warming up at the sight of him taking a few minutes to nap. He had no idea how someone so tall and fit could also be so cute. He tried to draw any similarities between Chaska and his ex-wife to try and explain his attraction to the man in front of him, but there was nothing.
Chaska cut Kyle's inspection short by opening his eyes. He stared at Kyle for a bit before saying, "We should go now." Chaska sat up, letting out a small yawn as he stretched his hands. It was four in the evening now, meaning that kids in high school would have left the school building and the gym was free.
"You can wait outside. I just have to grab my keys and drop these," Kyle said as he got up and picked their empty plates, taking them to the kitchen sink. He met up with Chaska outside, and the two got into the car. The drive to the gym was filled with mostly small talk. Kyle took the opportunity to ask about Otis and how he was doing. The way Chaska replied with joy and enthusiasm about Kyle's son had the older man flustered. He had no doubt that he wanted the man sitting on his passenger seat to be in his life—in his son's life.