Chapter 2 #2
“I’m twenty-four, originally from Ohio. I moved east like three years ago.
Needed my independence, you know. It was a small community back there.
I originally moved to New York, stayed with a friend a while until I got on my feet, before heading out here to DC.
I really wanted to be closer to the seat of power.
I’m a real big… government fan… huge on democracy and the constitution.
When I’m not thrifting or antiquing, you can find me in the halls of the Capitol building just congratulating our lawmakers on doing a fucking A+ job of running the country.
” It’s hard to keep a straight face, and I break into laughter almost a second later while he watches, looking charmed.
“I’m sensing a vein of mistruth in there,” he says, smiling at me fondly.
“Sensing it are you?” I grin and gulp some tea.
“I have a good read for people.”
“That would be helpful in the spy world.”
“I’m really not a spy.”
“That’s exactly what a spy would say.”
“You’re right, they would.”
“So are you here for work or pleasure, or do you like, live here?” He shifts slightly on his chair as though the question is a little uncomfortable for him. Maybe it’s just the chair.
“I work and live here. For now. It’s a new job, I’m unsure if it’s working out.”
“Gotcha. You not feeling the job or the city? Or both?”
“The city is fine. I mean, it’s the same as most others. I actually studied in Connecticut for a year—Yale. I was a lawyer before I got into what I’m doing now.”
“A lawyer, he says, without a shred of shame. Criminal or?”
“Human rights.”
My cock stirs. “Explains the lack of shame, I guess.”
Christian smiles. “I feel very ashamed about the job I’ve been doing for the last five years, honestly.”
“Listen, being a spy isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”
“Ha, you’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“As long as you keep avoiding telling me what you do, I don’t see how I can.”
“Okay, fine, but you won’t like it.”
I blink at this. “I won’t? How do you know?”
“Like I said, I’m good at reading people.” He has this really playful look on his face now, and I like that he’s relaxed enough to show me that side of him. He’d been nervy as shit before, like a deer in the headlights.
“Try me.”
“I’m in politics,” Christian says and takes a sip of tea as he watches for my reaction.
My eyes widen, and my mouth forms into a pout–come–grimace all of its own accord.
“Shit, that’s disappointing. Oh, wow, you are good at reading people.”
“Told you.”
“Well, it’s been nice, catch you around, I guess.” I move to stand, and a momentary flicker of panic washes over his face. It lights me all the way up as I sit back down.
“Joke. I believe everyone gets a shot at redemption,” I say. “Anyway, for all you know, I kill puppies for sport.”
“Do you?”
“No. Kittens, actually, but no one likes those cute, defenceless little fuckers anyway.”
Christian chuckles again and lifts his tea. Then, conversationally, “Ah, so, I read the book.”
“Boy Slut? You did? And?”
“I thought it was very… sex positive, if a little troubling in parts.”
“Which parts troubled you?”
“Well, he seemed to be talking about STIs like a badge of honour for most of the book, and about how we shouldn’t worry about them because they’re treatable.”
“I get that. I mean, I don’t agree with everything he says—I don’t agree with everything most people say, honestly, except Gaga—but I think it’s the first time someone has really taken bisexuality by the throat and shaken it out, you know?
” He stares at me as though no, he doesn’t know.
“You’re bi, right?” I ask. He blinks, eyes going round and wide for a second.
“I mean, you’re here with me—a little gay boy from the Midwest—and you had a wife, so I might be jumping to conclusions. ”
He thinks about this. Then, sounding almost embarrassed, he says, “I’m honestly not sure what I am. Bit of a joke at my age, right?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I think you can have a sexual awakening at any age.
Or, if you don’t want to call it that, then you can find a part of yourself at any age.
You realise at forty you like olives after a lifetime of finding them entirely not your thing.
I’m trivialising, but my point is in there somewhere.
Sometimes an experience, a person, a fucking book can make you wake up and realise something about yourself you didn’t know before.
It’s part of the human experience: there’s no age where you just, like, stop growing and learning about yourself. About the world.”
He stares at me, mouth open slightly.
“You’re very wise for someone so young.”
“I’m not that young. Anyway, I’ve lived like three whole lives already. I’m like a really old man in a young hot demon twink body.”
He throws his head back and laughs fully at this. His throat is pale, his complexion generally, actually, and I wonder what he’d look like golden from the sun. He needs a vacation. Somewhere warm with palm trees, turquoise waters, and bone-white sand. Fuck, so do I.
“Well, this was very enjoyable, Asher.” He lifts up his empty cup. “Thank you.”
“The tea? I didn’t make it.”
“The tea which you paid for, and the company, which I enjoyed. Very much.”
I nod, then give him my most innocent smile. “You’re welcome. Now, how about helping me with those antiques I mentioned earlier? Blow job offer still stands.”