Calm down, calm down, calm down, breathe, breathe, breathe, BREATHE!
Carl inhaled sharply, his vision swimming back into focus as his back hit the wall. The cool brick of the bar wall soothed him, pulling him from the confusing thoughts suffusing his mind.
ELLEN! Right, pretty brown-haired farm girl, think of her think of her thin-
It felt as if he were getting the life squeezed out of him. Carl could feel arms wrap around his waist, toned muscle flexing against the rough material of his vest. A warm wave spread throughout his body, a simmering fire settling in his veins and making him restless. Squirming slightly, he looked down toward the source of his sudden arousal only to find the space empty. Frantically looking around for the source of his warmth, Carl was confronted by the darkness of the alleyway that surrounded him.
Dear Goddess please please please tell me I did not just-
Shaking his head so as to clear his thoughts, the bartender slumped over once again, distraught by the turn his mind had taken.
"I'm just so confused."
Breath caught in the wind and words floating into the night sky, how else are secrets born and never revealed in this world. A sigh, a conflicted thought, a murmur, those are the acts of insecurity, doubt and mistake. Carl could do nothing but be swept in those emotions, uncertain of how he should act and think in the situation.
He knew what society thought of these things. The acceptable thing would be to follow Ellen and hold onto her until these feelings of lust and want for another man subsided. Clearly Ellen was the safer option anyways, if not for how others would react than for emotional security. She cared for him sincerely enough that her emotions would also be put on the table and he wouldn't be strung along. The blond bartender could see himself settling down with the farmer as well, living out a peaceful life with few complications and ease. It would be a simple life, with a girlfriend who demanded little and cared for him enough that it would be evident.
Yet would he be happy with such a life? Could he lie to himself? She had been the first one to show him affection, a fact which did not escape a new comer who was shy around others. Everything about Ellen screamed conventional and practical, yet no matter how hard Carl tried he couldn't associate a want with that practicality. Her simple, beautiful, and vivacious personality drew him in unlike most of the city girls. She was the support he needed to continue on in this new environment, a place so very different from his home of tall glass buildings and asphalt streets.
The blond groaned in frustration, fists clenching and relaxing at regular intervals. Love had never been a problem back in the city. High School, culinary school and the odd waiter job occupied a majority of the week, and gaps were passed by with friends or in the kitchen. Carl had dedicated his life to his craft and could not fathom of a time where it would not occupy his every waking thought. Yet now, when plagued with thoughts outside of the cooking realm, the boy could not help but doubt himself. Love seemed like a thing beyond his full comprehension, a mystery so elaborate that it escaped his grasp.
Carl chuckled wryly, "Maybe I should have been a poet, for all this fancy wording."
Dan certainly made the young boy feel in a way that cake and girls never had. Compared to Ellen, his raw sensuality enticed and captured the imagination, arousing Carl despite his will otherwise. The blond wanted him, nearly lusted after the brown haired boy, even if mentally he balked from being in the other boy's presence. The physical desire governed his actions around Dan and pulled him in when he attempted to stay away. The vineyard worker was intoxicating and enticing; wholly consuming when compared to the simple contentment of being around Ellen.
The blond would gladly bake cakes and pastries for the girl of his dreams, yet that was hardly a testament to his feelings. Would he still be with Ellen if she were anything but conventional? Would he continue to devote himself to a woman who he vested so much emotion but little passion in? Would it be alright that he only connected through emotion to Ellen and yet by passion to Dan?
The blond would gladly bake cakes and pastries for the girl of his dreams, but he would give up that simple life for a night of passion with another man.
Coming to a realization, Carl raised himself to his feet. With the wind at his back, he strode with purpose down the small alley he had confined himself in, reaching the open air of the main pathway. In the dark of the night he made his way toward the rear of the house just across from the bar, quickening his pace as he neared the back door of the stone structure.
Finally sure of himself, he raised his fist and knocked steadily on the doorway before him; a moment later, a head of dark but disheveled hair peeked through the doorway.
A large grin overtook the tanned boy's face before he leaned the rest of his weight against the doorway.
"What took you so long pretty boy."
