31. Matteo
THIRTY-ONE
MATTEO
I love small-town America.
As I walk through the several booths lining Main Street, tipping my head at my passing parishioners, I think there can’t be anything more picturesque than this. Booths are selling homemade ointments, fresh vegetables, and other services from some local businesses close to Smallville. I weave my way through them all, neck craning only subtly as I scan the dense crowd for the one person I want to see. Although I know he’s not here, Theo’s presence lingers around me, sticking to my skin, making himself a permanent fixture in my body.
He’s out for a conference this week in Cheyenne, so it’s been days since I’ve seen him, and already the longing for him to be back in my arms is unbearable. I’ve tried to distract myself with prayer, with spiritual readings, with my Xbox, but nothing has been able to quench the desire for him.
He’s everything I think about, and I don’t know how healthy that is.
I shake my head, uncaring whether my obvious fixation is worrisome. With Theo, the way mi precioso makes me feel, it’s all worth it.
Once again, I try to get my mind off him by surveying everything in the market, making my way over to the hot dog stand that sells specialty bratwurst.
“Looks great,” I tell Earl, nearly groaning at the smell of the grill. “How much?”
He smirks. “For everyone else, ten bucks. For you, Father, I’ll make it an even seven.”
I pull out my wallet, shaking my head at him. “Still not going to open up confessions to Tuesdays.”
“Hm.” He looks at the bills in my hand and yanks the hot dog back. “Make it nine then.”
I resist the urge to playfully roll my eyes and pay him the nine dollars. I take the hot dog, already salivating at the relish he put on top with a thin line of mustard hiding underneath. I go to move to a bench by the handmade jewelry, but something stops me in my tracks.
Hiding in the alley, with only his head peeking out, is Billy. He looks just as ragged and dirty as the first time I saw him, but is it possible that I can tell he looks skinnier? His gaze is dull while still penetrating. He’s not looking at me, but rather the hot dog in my hand.
I once again feel the calling to help, to serve, to see if I can be of any use to the boy. I make my way to the alley, making sure to keep my distance so I don’t scare him off. “Hello, Billy.”
He blinks at me repeatedly with nothing but disinterest in his face, but a spark of hunger when he looks at the hot dog. “You know my name?”
I try my best not to flinch at his voice. It sounds like it’s raw and cracked, almost as if he had been screaming for hours on end. My gut tightens and my instincts are on high alert, knowing that something is wrong without needing it spelled out to me.
“You hungry?” I ask, motioning at the food.
“No money,” he supplies, not really answering my question.
I look around me, seeing if his parents are anywhere I could call them over and offer to buy them lunch. I don’t consider it charity but an act of service. If I can help those in need with something as simple as a flea market treat, I’d do it in a heartbeat. “Where are your parents?”
He shakes his head, sinking deeper into the alley. “Mommy’s gone. Daddy’s…”
I don’t like the way he trails off. It’s almost ominous like there’s more to his story he’s not telling me, or he simply can’t. “Your daddy… Do you like him?”
“He’s my daddy.” He shrugs one shoulder, eyes focused on my hand. “Are you… You gonna eat that?”
I smile warmly, already prepared to hand it over. “You can have it, son.” He takes the hot dog and my heart pangs at how quickly he shoves it down his throat, devouring it as if it’s going to be taken away. “Slow down. You might hurt your stomach?—”
“Another?” he asks, wiping a line of relish off his chin with a dirty sleeve. “Daddy won’t be back for a bit. He doesn’t?—”
“Billy! Get your damn ass over here!”
Billy whimpers and I seethe at the sound of Merv’s voice. I turn around and face Billy’s father, completely overcome with the urge to interrogate him and force him to admit he’s a neglectful parent. I’m also overcome with rage at everyone else in town. Isn’t it obvious that Billy is getting mistreated? How can anybody miss the signs? The way he flinched at his father’s voice, the hunger, his clothes.
I stand as Merv approaches, opening my mouth to say something, but Marcy cuts in front of me.
“Oh no, Father,” she says, pushing me away from Merv by my chest, and I’m left helpless to watch as Merv yanks Billy away with a rough hand on his wrist. “Not today.”
I’m not purposefully trying to be rough with Marcy, but I do slap her hands away. I narrow my gaze at her with incredulity. “Is no one going to do anything about that? Why isn’t anyone calling the Sheriff on him for child neglect?”
She shakes her head, regret and resignation in her eyes. “You don’t think we’ve tried, sugar? Sheriff Jones can’t do anythin’ without proof. If Merv’s hurtin’ that boy, he’s doin’ a great job at hidin’ it.”
“So, what do we do?” I question, watching Billy’s retreating form, my heart aching at the way he looks back at me. “Marcy, we can’t just let Merv take him.”
“The system doesn’t always work the way it should. Billy’s not come out and said anythin’ about what this daddy’s doin’,” she states, crossing her arms over her chest, and now I can see that she’s just as upset about this as I am. “Sadly, we need more evidence before Jones can do anythin’.”
I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all. The poor boy is suffering but nobody can step in because there’s no proof? With no bruises or cuts, with no outward confessions, Merv could be labeled a strict parent, nothing more. But Marcy, and I’m assuming everyone else, knows better.
We just can’t do anything about it, and I’ve never felt this helpless before.
“Hey, sugar, it’s alright,” Marcy says, trying to console me as she rubs my arm. “Billy’s a strong boy, and we all got our eyes on him. If anythin’ happens, we’ll scoop him up. I promise you that.”
I clench my jaw, but I guess I’m grateful that he has the community looking out for him. “It’s difficult to walk away.”
“Well, we’re not walkin’ away.” She hooks her arm through mine and leads me away from the alley. “We’re lookin’ for the perfect time to strike.”
I nod, even though I don’t agree. If I could, I’d take him to the Sheriff now, but that wouldn’t be helpful if Billy couldn’t speak out. And the reaction Merv might have to that, and the thought that he could take it out on his son, keeps me from saying anything else.
Marcy and I walk around the flea market a bit more, her laughing and blushing when I buy her a dainty pink necklace. She walks away to talk to Old Man Crafter about getting some fresh goat’s milk and leaves me alone at the stand. I almost walk away until something catches my eye.
I stare at the ring hidden in the corner of the booth. There’s no sort of fancy mannequin holding it up, or any sense that it’s anything more than a throwaway piece of jewelry. I take it in my hand, examining it in the light, and smiling at what I see. It’s a basic band, but it’s not made from metal or gold, but almost crystal.
A clear blue crystal with glimmers of dark aqua that look just like Theo’s eyes.
“How much?” I ask the woman in charge, holding the ring up.
She smiles warmly. “Thirty. You interested?”
“Very,” I say, handing it and some cash over to her. When she goes to wrap it, I shake my head. “No, I can wear it out, if that’s alright.”
She hesitates but nods regardless, allowing me to slip the ring on, and I thank her profusely before leaving the booth.
I don’t stay much longer, opting to say my goodbyes to Marcy and head home. Letting Billy leave with Merv has left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I want to go home and text Theo so he can make me feel better the way he always does.
Of course, I get stopped along the way. Don and his lovely wife asked me to come by and bless their new car, to which I happily agree. Earl teases me a bit more about confession times, and Old Man Crafter apparently wants to put me back to work at the barn.
The sun is setting by the time I make it home; the winter has cast snowflakes in the air, and they flutter onto the top of my head. I shake myself off once I get into the church, rubbing my icy hands and wishing I had brought a pair of gloves with me. I go straight to the rectory, ready to hop straight into the shower. I open the door, already taking off my scarf, but stop dead in my tracks when I see Theo sitting on my couch playing Xbox.
For a moment, I’m hit with the domesticity of it all. He’s here and waiting for me, and I imagine briefly what it would be like to always come home to this. This beautiful picture of his pretty lips tipped in a frown as he plays, dressed in nothing but his boxers, sitting next to a bowl of popcorn.
“Theo,” I breathe, a smile completely overtaking my face as I shrug off my coat.
His head snaps in my direction, and he doesn’t waste a second. Before I know it, he’s flying off the couch and jumping into my arms. I catch him with both hands on his ass and the wind gets knocked out of me when his lips crash into mine.
“Missed you,” he mumbles against my mouth, greedy hands wandering into my damp hair. He presses his forehead against mine, thumbing my bottom lip. “Fuck, baby. I missed you so much.”
“It’s only been five days,” I joke, but I’m secretly pleased that he couldn’t help but attack me the second he spotted me.
He nibbles on his bottom lip, looking up at me through fluttering lashes. “You missed me too?”
I snort, walking us toward the bathroom. “What kind of question is that?”
“Tell me in Spanish,” he teases, playing with my collar.
“Really?” I roll my eyes playfully when he pouts, and I peck the tip of his perfect nose. “ Te extrané, mi precioso .”
“So sexy,” he mumbles, dipping his head so he can press torturously sinful kisses to the base of my neck. “You taste just as good as I remember. Fuck, when can I get inside you?”
I nearly stumble into the bathroom door. He’s testing every limit of my restraint. I want nothing more than to strip and bend over for him, present myself for him, and be full of him. But I’m freezing, and I’m sure I smell like Crafter’s pet goats, so I shake my head. “Shower first.”
“A sexy shower?” he offers, wagging his brows at me so dramatically that I laugh. “What?”
“Was that supposed to be sexy?”
“Hey! You try doing it!” When I do, his jaw drops, and I feel him grow hard against my stomach. “Yeah, okay, you’re much better at that than me. I’m a two and you’re a ten.”
I set him down on the sink, trapping him between my arms, and smiling softly when he wraps his legs around my waist. “A two?”
“Well…” His cheeks flush and any inkling of teasing is out the window. He looks a bit embarrassed as he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, look at you.”
I raise a brow in question. “What about me?”
“We’ve talked about this before. I’m… and you’re… You know what you look like,” he scoffs, blushing as he nervously licks his lips. His arms come around his bare middle, almost like he’s protecting himself from something, but it can’t be me. He shakes his head, forcing a smile as he moves for the buttons of my shirt. “Enough. Let’s get naked?—”
“Stop right there,” I tell him, my voice rough as I seize his wrist. “What are you trying to say?”
He narrows his eyes as he tries to fight my hold. “You’re really going to make me say it?”
“I’m curious.”
“You’re by far the sexiest, most attractive, drool-worthy man on the planet. I, on the other hand, am not.” He takes a deep breath and chuckles. “It’s fine. I’m just on the better side of average.”
My eyes widen. Is he… Is he feeling insecure? Is that what this is? He doesn’t seem to be fishing; my precioso isn’t like that, so he must mean every word he speaks. The more he wiggles uncomfortably under my stare, the more I know it’s true.
“Theo,” I say, caging his face in my hands. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
He snorts and waves a dismissive hand. “You’re only saying that because you like my cock.”
“No,” I growl, squeezing his cheeks, trying to make him understand. “You’re so much more than average, precioso . Don’t you see that?”
His cheeks flush an even prettier pink, freckles dancing prominently on them. He’s a little breathless as he squirms, hands coming up to find my elbows. “Matteo, what… What do you see when you look at me?”
Fuck, I’m so glad he asked.
I start by dropping my hands, opting to run them up his naked sides instead. I tease every inch of his skin, stopping at the part of his stomach he’s so insecure about. “When I look at you, Theo, I see someone whose attention I’m not worthy of.”
He gasps. “Baby?—”
“Every inch of you consumes me, from those sparkling blue eyes that sing to me, to those plump lips that make my breath stop when they smile,” I continue, grinning through a disbelieving breath when my fingers reach his neck, my eyes following the invisible trail I make. “Just look at these freckles. Fuck, I don’t think perfect is a strong enough word for you.” My fingers settle on his temple, and I kiss each of his closed eyelids. “It’s not just your looks or your cock.”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbles in a daze, lips trying to chase mine, but I hold back. “Matteo…”
“You’re everything good and kind in the world,” I whisper against his cheek, rubbing my thumbs against his forehead. “You’re so special. One of a kind. My sanctuary.” I kiss his nose, flicking my tongue out to taste him. “When I look at you, I see my home. The place where I can be myself. A place where I belong.”
“Matteo,” he whispers, pulling back so he can run his fingers across every crevice of my face, starting at my chin, moving up to my cheeks, fluttering against my brows. The entire time, his diamond-like eyes are locked with mine, something akin to pleasant exasperation in them. “You’re that for me too. I've never felt more like myself than when I’m around you.”
“That’s because…”
“Yes?”
I shouldn’t say it. Admitting what I’m feeling is dangerous, more dangerous than what we’ve started between us. Telling him my deeply buried passion, the flaming beautiful agony within me is something I shouldn’t place on his shoulders.
But one hesitant and slightly awkward smile later, and I know that he needs to hear it just as much as I need to say it.
I press my mouth against his, breathing in the citrus, breathing in my salvation. “That’s because we belong together, precioso .”
His stuttering breath tells me I might have gone too far. I’m ready to backtrack, take it back, call it something I said in the heat of the moment, but I’m surprised when he launches himself at me once again.
“Belong together?” he asks, voice muffled against my lips as he desperately tries to rid me of my shirt. “Do we belong together, Matteo?”
I nod, reaching for his boxers, already tugging them down his hips. “Every second without you, I can’t breathe. Every minute without you, I can’t think. Every hour I spend apart from you, I can’t cope.”
My feelings are unraveling right before my eyes. I knew the depth of my infatuation with him was intoxicatingly cruel, but I never knew it was this bad.
Like he’s the only thing that matters in the world.
Like I’d give it all up just to see him smile.
Like I’d crawl through the burning coals of Hell if he asked me to.
But I can’t ask him to return that sentiment.
I can’t ask to be his one and only when the golden band around his finger says otherwise.
So, I don’t give him the option.
I finish ripping his boxers down his legs as soon as he gets my shirt off and drag us both into the shower stall. I don’t even care that I’m still dressed when I turn the water on, only causing him to laugh when my pants get soaked. I eat up that sweet noise, growling against his lips when he starts to tease my cock in such an innocently hesitant manner. I swallow up his moan when I shove his back against the tiled wall and fall to my knees.
I close my eyes as I take him in my mouth, humming around his length, picturing a moment in time when he could truly be mine. Mine to hold, mine to take care of, and mine to treasure. There wouldn’t be anything stopping us or anything in our way. We could just be together like it was meant to be.
I suck him hard, letting his cries spur me on because I’m determined to be the best he’s ever had. I want him to hear the wet sucking on his way home. I want him to fall asleep to his wife, still trembling from my touch. I want him in a way she’s never had him.
The shower hides the lone tear that drips down my cheek.
“Yes, baby,” he mumbles, curling his fingers into my hair. “Fuck, please, more…”
If only I could be his baby where everyone could see. If only I could take pride in showing others just how beautiful I can make him feel. If only there weren't circumstances preventing all that from happening.
More tears slide down my cheeks as I let out a choked sob, but Theo’s husky moan muffles it. I twirl my tongue around his head, trying to suck every ounce of him into me. If I can’t be with him in public, if I can never have him on my arm, then I want to make sure he remembers how good I was to him.
How good I can make him cry. How good I can make him feel.
“Baby!”
The word alone makes more tears spill as I take him all the way to the back of my throat, gagging as he comes. I hold him by his cheeks, pressing him even deeper, never wanting to let him go.
“You’re so amazing,” he murmurs, and I peek up to see his head rolled back, a blissful tilt to his lips. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”
I soak up his praise like a fool, eyes shutting briefly as his cock grows soft in my mouth. Just a little bit longer. A little bit longer with him in my mouth, a little bit longer with his sweet words, a little bit longer where I’m the most important person to him.
Just a little bit longer.