Reluctant Romance: Guys and Guys
Various Authors
Sometimes true love is
reluctant to blossom and needs a little bit of coaxing in order to come out.
But a strong will and a heart filled with determination will triumph every
time! The authors of the Bigger Briefs present to you these m/m tales of lovers
who just need a gentle prod to push them into the relationship they’ve been
yearning for.
*****
Excerpt
While Zane showered,
Neil picked up the living area and called in for a pizza to be delivered. He’d
changed his mind; he didn’t want to go out. What he wanted was privacy. Zane
had just joined him in the living area when the pizza guy showed up. Neil
quickly paid him as Zane got them plates.
“Where do you want to
eat?”
Zane shrugged. “In the living area is fine. I just usually sit in the couch.”
They ate in silence. He noticed that Zane acted like he hadn’t eaten in a month. Once they were finished, Neil moved closer to Zane on the couch, laying his arm behind Zane’s head.
“Okay, spill it. I want to know what’s the deal with you. You never leave to go to work, you shut yourself up in here for days on end, and you refuse to commit to me. No more, Zane. I can’t take it.”
Zane shrugged. “In the living area is fine. I just usually sit in the couch.”
They ate in silence. He noticed that Zane acted like he hadn’t eaten in a month. Once they were finished, Neil moved closer to Zane on the couch, laying his arm behind Zane’s head.
“Okay, spill it. I want to know what’s the deal with you. You never leave to go to work, you shut yourself up in here for days on end, and you refuse to commit to me. No more, Zane. I can’t take it.”
Zane stared at Neil,
then he stood up. “Maybe it would be easier to just show you.”
He led Neil to one of the bedrooms he kept closed. Opening the door, he stood to the side and waved his arm. “Everything you want to know is in there.” Then he turned away and went back to the living area.
Neil walked in the room. Covering one entire wall of the room were photographs. No, not photographs, covers—book covers. Covers he recognized. A laptop sat open on a desk and on it were endless paragraphs. A multi-purpose printer sat to one side. Notebooks, paper, and books lined a bookshelf. A mini-fridge sat in a corner and a coffee maker was close to the desk. Awards were all over the walls. Shocked, Neil took in the office—an author’s office. One of the biggest named authors’ office. His heart stuttered in his chest. Zane was the gay male author Sivad… which was his last name, Davis, spelled backwards.
“Dear Lord.”
Stumbling out the door, he found Zane on the couch, head in his heads. “So, now you know who I am.”
Neil sank down on the couch next to him. “Why’d you hide this? Why do you act like this is something to be ashamed of? Zane, you have a God given talent, and nothing—do you hear me—nothing to be ashamed of!”
Zane raised his head, meeting Neil’s eyes. “I’m not ashamed of being gay, or of what I write, in either career. But I kept them separate because I knew mainstream publishers would flip if they knew. Homophobia is alive and well, don’t think it’s not. I was dumped by some of those very same publishers when word got out.”
Neil took Zane’s hands, holding them tightly. “What happened?”
Taking a deep breath, Zane held it for a second, then released it. “Long story short, I caught my boyfriend of two years in bed with another man. I kicked his ass out. Pissed that he lost his free meal—me—he outed me. He knew what could happen—fact is, he did it to hurt me. Some of the mainstream publishers told me I needed to go elsewhere, and they were not very nice about it either. They were horrified that I wrote what they called gay porn.”
He led Neil to one of the bedrooms he kept closed. Opening the door, he stood to the side and waved his arm. “Everything you want to know is in there.” Then he turned away and went back to the living area.
Neil walked in the room. Covering one entire wall of the room were photographs. No, not photographs, covers—book covers. Covers he recognized. A laptop sat open on a desk and on it were endless paragraphs. A multi-purpose printer sat to one side. Notebooks, paper, and books lined a bookshelf. A mini-fridge sat in a corner and a coffee maker was close to the desk. Awards were all over the walls. Shocked, Neil took in the office—an author’s office. One of the biggest named authors’ office. His heart stuttered in his chest. Zane was the gay male author Sivad… which was his last name, Davis, spelled backwards.
“Dear Lord.”
Stumbling out the door, he found Zane on the couch, head in his heads. “So, now you know who I am.”
Neil sank down on the couch next to him. “Why’d you hide this? Why do you act like this is something to be ashamed of? Zane, you have a God given talent, and nothing—do you hear me—nothing to be ashamed of!”
Zane raised his head, meeting Neil’s eyes. “I’m not ashamed of being gay, or of what I write, in either career. But I kept them separate because I knew mainstream publishers would flip if they knew. Homophobia is alive and well, don’t think it’s not. I was dumped by some of those very same publishers when word got out.”
Neil took Zane’s hands, holding them tightly. “What happened?”
Taking a deep breath, Zane held it for a second, then released it. “Long story short, I caught my boyfriend of two years in bed with another man. I kicked his ass out. Pissed that he lost his free meal—me—he outed me. He knew what could happen—fact is, he did it to hurt me. Some of the mainstream publishers told me I needed to go elsewhere, and they were not very nice about it either. They were horrified that I wrote what they called gay porn.”
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