(damaged boys) 7

There were five of them in the row of townhouses, and underneath the sheen of public normalcy and personal success lived the gaping damage within.
Spark
Ben accelerated the speed on the treadmill. Watching Marcus had become the focal point of his workouts lately, and when he wasn’t actually with Marcus, he’d fantasized about seeing him there. Watching him lift weights or run a six minute mile or smile back at him. It was so complicated, living next door to the perfect guy, the one guy he’d wanted in more than a year.

As far as he could tell, Marcus had ruined him for other men, and they had yet to even kiss. He’d thought about it, though. Thought about it a lot. It wasn’t that he was obsessed, it was that Marcus became an unobtainable object. Even with their frequent trips to the gym, or their occasional dinner and movie at their respective homes, there had been no romantic connection, and it vexed Ben.
Ben was average in height, lean and beautiful of face. His white smile both dazzled and charmed. His jet black hair was closely cropped, and his polar blue eyes could spellbind anyone. Anyone and everyone except Marcus who never seemed to notice. Marcus who never seemed to notice the coy glances, the sweet smiles and generosity. He never seemed to notice anything about Ben at all. He’d seemingly missed or was unimpressed by Ben’s career as a top-notch marketing manager at University Hospital System or his recent MBA degree. Marcus who never seemed to notice the incredible person living next door…the handsome, stable, successful and single Ben.
But Marcus had noticed. He’d noticed it right away, and he’d filed the information away in a compartment. Not throwing it away, just relocating it for later reference, later action. Right now, Marcus was too busy being perfect. Too busy being what everyone else needed him to be…everyone except himself…and Ben. He knew Ben was interested, but it was easier to just live in limbo…not to talk about it. Surely talking would just make everything weird. For now, they could spend time together without worrying about expectations. If he asked Ben out on a real date, there would suddenly be expectations…more demands. If Marcus decided anything else, things would just get weird. So, it was better, in his estimation, to keep things the same: ambiguous.
When he’d reached thirty minutes on the treadmill, he stepped off, sprayed it down with disinfectant and moved his pile of keys, sweats and gym ID over to the floormats, where he’d complete a grueling set of crunches, sit-ups and push-ups. By then, Marcus would be done with his squats and it would be time to head home and ready for work.
“You keep those crunches up, Ben…they’re making you rock solid!”
Ben smiled as he panted out a brief “Thanks.”
“I’m ready when you are. No rush.”
No, of course not…there was no rushing at all with Marcus. No rushing. Just patience. But Ben had patience…lots of it. He picked up his things and headed to the front where Marcus was waiting, chatting-up and charming the receptionist. They piled into the car and set off toward home, listening to NPR and dreaming of the day’s first cup of coffee.
Marcus parked the car in his garage and lowered the garage door. He unlatched the car door, and then stopped. He looked forward through the windshield, contemplating. He turned to Ben, smiled, and thought about kissing him. Ben sensed it, too, but the moment passed and awkwardness set in.
“Well, thanks for the great workout…see you later.”
“Yeah, you too, Marcus. I’ll catch up with you tonight or whatever.”
“Cool, yeah…have a good one.”
And then nothing. Like so many other mornings, they went their separate ways without sharing the one thing that stood between them. Like any other day, Ben and Marcus would long for each other but remain aloof, choosing the familiar emptiness over possibility…each of them wondering what, if anything, would happen next?