Ryan shrugged. “I know. So, what happened with Miguel?”
“That’s what I want to know. Despite what the people who are afraid to see a gay couple kiss on TV think, you don’t just turn gay. How are you crushing on your male friend?”
Hector sighed, scrubbing his hands up and down his face. “You know Miguel and I have known each other since we were kids.” Both men nodded. “Well, when I was fifteen, my dad walked in on us in my bedroom. We weren’t doing anything. But we were sitting close to each other on the bed. Miguel was showing me some comic. I don’t remember which one. I wasn’t into them like him. But I remember watching Miguel as he talked, thinking how sweet he was. Then he looked up at me and smiled. He was so cute and I was such a ball of horny teenage hormones that I probably would have kissed him right then. But that’s when my dad walked in. He stood in the doorway and stared at us for a good minute before telling Miguel his mom was ready for him to come home. Once Miguel was gone, he came in there and sat down with me.”
Ryan’s gray eyes went wide. “Uh-oh.”
Hector snorted a laugh. “Yeah, uh-oh. My dad was a good man. He didn’t ever degrade anyone. But he told me that some men were different. And he made it clear he didn’t want me to be different in that way. He wanted me to be a true man. It was my job to take care of the family. He wanted to see me get married and have my own little Castillos. My dad didn’t come out and say don’t be gay, but I knew what he meant.” Hector paused to lift his beer bottle to his lips. He took a long drink, the liquid cool as it went down his throat. “He died in a car accident two weeks later.”
“Shit.” The short curse came from Clay.
“I became the man of the house at fifteen. I took my dad’s words to heart, trying to be as strong as possible. And I never let myself be that close to Miguel again. I still looked out for him all the way through high school, but I made sure to only date girls.”
“Yikes. Do you even like women?”
“I do. That’s what made it relatively easy to do as my dad asked.”
“So bi then,” Ryan said.
Hector shrugged. “Yeah, looks like it.”
“Listen,” Clay tapped a finger on the tabletop. “It’s your life, and you can be with whoever the hell you want. But I’ll be the first to admit that being anything other than heteronormative comes with problems.”
“Fucking hell it does.” Hector knew that and not just from the abstract. He’d watched Miguel be bullied as a kid. And Clay, bisexual himself, had just experienced several months of harassment from their fellow cops.
“What’s changed?” Ryan asked.
Hector stared at the condensation on the beer bottle in front of him instead of his friends. “Having Miguel in my life again. Being so close to him. Taking care of him. Checking out his ass in the tight jeans he’s always wearing. Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “We uh… We had a little interlude a couple of weeks ago. That definitely changed things. I tried to forget it happened and put distance between us, but that didn’t work out. And honestly, that’s not what I want.”
It was quiet for a moment as Ryan and Clay let Hector mentally chew over what he’d just said. Ryan finally spoke up.
“If you do decide to pursue it, you need to be sure before you move forward with Miguel. And you both need to be on the same page. It’s not fair to him to start something then back out and leave him hanging because you changed your mind.”
Hector nodded. “I get that.”
Their threesome was quiet again, each of them in their own thoughts. Hector was thinking of Miguel, but also how much he appreciated his friends’ judgment-free listening and conversation. He looked at Clay as he finished his glass of root beer and set it down on the table with a thump.
“So, Hector has the hots for a non-blond,” Clay said with a grin. “I am truly, truly shocked.”
Hector rolled his eyes at his friend. “Shut up.”
The next morning, Hector woke just as Miguel was leaving the bedroom. Hector raised his arms over his head and stretched. The couple of beers he’d had last night had helped him get more sleep than he had all week. He lay there without moving for several quiet moments before he went into the bathroom to freshen up. By the time he made it to the kitchen, Miguel was already starting breakfast. Hector leaned against the archway and watched him. He still wore the boot, but he’d ditched the crutches, allowing him to move around more freely. He flicked the stove on to heat the pan, then got everything he needed on the counter.
Hector wondered what Miguel would do if Hector went over and slid an arm around his waist, hugging him from behind as he cooked. He remembered his father doing that to his mom. She’d relax back against him then swat him away with the spatula so she could finish cooking. His father would always kiss her on the cheek first before sitting at the table to read the newspaper and drink his coffee.
It was a homey and sweet memory. Hector had never felt the inclination to recreate it with anyone he’d dated. His father’s death meant he’d inherited the responsibility of caring for a family at an early age. He’d shrugged off most of it when his mother finally remarried ten years later, but Hector hadn’t been in any rush to take on another family anytime soon. He’d kept his dating light because of it and been honest with the women that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. But now here he was, imagining holding Miguel in a loving embrace just like his father had held his mother. He sighed, loud enough for Miguel to hear him and turn around.
“Hey, good morning.”
“Morning,” he said back.
Miguel pointed his spatula at the chair he normally sat in. “Sit down and I’ll fix your plate.”
Hector sat. Miguel continued cooking, making Hector’s omelet the way he liked without having to ask what he wanted in it. He’d made it enough times by now to know. Once the food was ready, they ate and talked, the conversation mostly centered on Miguel talking about starting work on Monday. In comparison to Miguel’s chatter, Hector stayed relatively quiet, still thinking about his conversation with Clay and Ryan from the night before.
When they were finished eating, Miguel got up to clear their dishes.
“I’m going to move back to the couch tonight,” he said once he reached the sink.