I moved into this building to start over. Quiet nights. No complications.
I didn’t expect my next door neighbor.
Mark is older, calm, and far too observant. He notices the silences. Hears everything through the thin walls. And looks at me like he already knows what I’m trying not to admit.
A shared drink becomes shared nights. Advice turns into permission.
I’m straight. At least, I thought I was.
But the way he waits, never pushing, never backing off, makes my denial impossible to keep.
This is my first time crossing the line. And my neighbor knows exactly when I’m ready.
Age gap. Older neighbor. Straight-to-gay awakening.