Chapter 19
ELIAS
Miya shoulder checks Cal as she turns her Switch controller dramatically, and he loses it in a series of laughs, jumping to his feet and driving his Mario Kart character all over the place.
Matty has a shift at the cafe today, so it’s just been the three of us. I’d like to say it doesn’t feel any different than any other time she’s visited, but that’s wrong. I’m all too aware of the Matty shaped void hanging around the house.
It’s even in the way Cal looks over his shoulder at the couch, like he’s expecting Matty to be there.
He really has become a staple here, hasn’t he?
I glance at the clock for probably the hundredth time in the last hour, because I know his shift ends at two, and it’s a twenty minute walk from there to here.
It’s hard not to want to be wrapped up in him anytime he’s around, so I usually use his work hours to get house shit done. Pretty much every room has been cleaned—minus Cal’s—laundry is on its second load, and I even took Matty’s toys and gave them a proper clean.
Matty is very much a person who waits until he’s going to use something to wash it, and I figure shaving off a couple minutes of prep time would be good considering how little opportunity he has to get material for his site anymore.
He says it’s fine, that his written fantasies are pretty popular, but I still feel bad. Maybe when he gets home I could offer to take Miya and Cal out for ice cream or something, give him some time to himself.
I’m in the middle of picking up around Cal’s latest stuffie pile in his room—I don’t dare disturb them—when the sound of Cal’s voice squeals through the open door.
“Mat-ty!”
Little running feet, and then Matty’s startled, bubbly laugh.
My throat constricts. Cal has never used Matty’s name before. He doesn’t even use Miya’s. The amount of people he addresses with any kind of familiarity are limited to me and Mom. Even his revolving door of sitters have gone nameless.
Shit, I’m going to cry. I’m going to bawl like a big ole baby because Cal has decided Matty’s name is worth remembering. Because the man I care so fucking much about is important to my son.
I fall back on the closet door just listening to the living room chatter. Cal wants Matty to play Mario Kart with them. Miya is trying to regain his attention. Matty is laughing and promising he’ll join once he gets changed.
Thirty seconds later and Matty props himself against the door frame. His smile is so soft and indulgent, and he hasn’t bothered to undress in the slightest, except for the clip on bow tie that he’s snapped off and is twisting around with his fingers.
The cafe Matty picks up occasional shifts at is a themed butler cafe, and that means he’s dressed in a white button-up with a black suit jacket—unbuttoned and hanging open—and dark slacks. His hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, but there’s a few loose locks fallen to frame his face.
If Cal didn’t struggle with new environments we would have stopped by already, because Matty is the most informal person I know—he’s usually ripping the damn thing off before he’s fully in the door—and I’d like to see that side of him.
“Hey there, handsome,” I say around a burgeoning smile.
Matty doesn’t respond, just pushes off the door and stalks over to me with a level of confidence he doesn’t usually show.
His hands fall to my waist, and his lips press soft, breathy kisses to my neck.
I tip my head back against the door, wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing the other across his shoulders.
We both just hold each other there, soaking up the other’s touch. Matty’s lips slowly trail along my jaw until he can let out a soft breath into my ear. Shivers erupt across my skin, and he holds his answering smile to my cheek.
“Having you to come home to makes the hours standing on my feet and the co-worker cattiness slightly more bearable.”
“Maybe you should take Hannah up on the offer to work at Randy’s.”
That makes him pull away, but only enough to scowl and stick his tongue out at me. “That’s my best friend, you jerk.”
“Two people who care about you can’t brainstorm ways to make you stop being stubborn?”
His glare is far from serious, and I tug him flush against me to watch his cheeks darken.
“I have a better idea for what one of those people could be doing.”
“Oh?” I raise my brow, and he nods. “What should I be doing, Princess?”
Matty is the one who shivers now, snaking his hands under my T-shirt. “Getting me out of these clothes.”
Tempting. “Miya and Cal are right around the corner.” I lower my voice. “And I’m not fucking you in my son’s room.”
His shoulders shake with laughter. “I meant in our room. And I’m not asking for sex … I just want to be close to you. I want to feel your hands on my body.”
Even when he’s not trying to be sexy, he exudes it. Made even more endearing by the use of our room.
“And you think that won’t lead to …”
His lips twitch into a grin, and those hands slip into the back of my sweats. “You don’t work tonight. Maybe I want to tease you a little. See if I can make you beg.”
I grasp his face in my hands and take his mouth in a deep, longing kiss that has him rising onto his tip toes to return it in spades.
If I had to choose one word to describe Matty it would be ‘passionate’. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing—dancing, kissing—he throws his whole body into it.
“Fine,” I mutter, tugging on his lip. “I’ll undo every fucking button on this shirt, cover your pretty, pale skin in little bites and bruises, and then I’m going to tell you, in extreme detail, exactly what I want to do to your cock to get your come on my face.”
Matty’s groan is unrivaled, even if he has to stifle it with my tongue.
Payback is a bitch, sweetheart.
The diner is quieter at night. On nights that I don’t work, none of the guys make it down to Randy’s except Rascal on occasion, but he’s not actually that rowdy of a person despite his name. Usually the only people here this late are stragglers and the film kids.
Matty is set up on his side of the booth with his laptop, headphones, and is busy writing away to match some photos we took of getting him undressed earlier.
He’s admitted to having a harder time focusing on this work at the house, so once Cal went to bed, I oh so nicely asked my sister if she’d keep an eye on him while I took Matty on a date.
I’m eating the world’s best sandwich while Matty munches down a plate of fries. Every once in a while, I’ll kick his foot under the table, and he’ll send me an amused smirk and hook our ankles together.
It’s nice getting to sit and be with him like this. Even our sexual energy is sated, and being in his presence just feels good. Like we’re right where we belong.
It’s strangely adorable how in the zone he gets, and I wonder if he ever gets lost in his own fantasies. I wonder if he’d ever like to try any of them out …
I shake out the thought and wipe my hands on my pants, glancing back up to catch Matty watching me. Our eyes lock for a brief second, and then he returns to his screen with the lightest of flushes.
Tap tap tap.
He drops his hand on top of mine and taps the back of my hand. ‘Hold on’. Not an ASL sign but a signal we’ve decided on.
His fingers fly over his laptop keys, and when he’s satisfied with whatever he wrote, his attention breaks. Our hands link together, and Matty pushes his headphones off his ears.
“Enjoying yourself?” My lips tip up at the corners, and even though Matty rolls his eyes, his do the same.
“I’m basically transcribing what we did earlier, only with some embellishments considering we had to be on our best behavior.”
“Oh? Judging by the look on your face … are you getting fucked?” My voice is low enough that someone would have to be pretty close to hear, but I realize as Matty’s expression pinches that he might not have caught it either. As soon as I open my mouth to repeat myself, he shakes his head sharply.
“I heard you,” he mumbles, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Sorry. Notification of another comment, and I’m starting to see a pattern.”
Tabling Matty’s fantasy writing—sadly—I squeeze his hand and pull mine back to drop my chin into my palm. “What are they saying?”
Matty sighs and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s video requests. Or inquiries, I guess.”
“What are they asking for?”
Matty shrugs. “They’ve been asking when I’m going to bring someone else in again.
That’s the big one. People subscribe because they think I’m hot—or they’re a fucking fetishist, but what the hell ever.
If you’re going to objectify me at least you’re fucking paying me for it.
Anyway, what’s better than watching a hot guy get himself off?
Watching him be used and abused—in a purely sexual sense—by another hot guy. ”
I’m still technically subscribed to Matty’s page, but the one thing I don’t touch are his backlog of videos with other men. Not because he did anything wrong by sleeping with them, obviously, but because it ramps my jealousy up to a damn ten to think about anyone having him the way that I do now.
“Have you ever done it the other way?” I reach over and steal one of his fries, narrowly avoiding the literal slap to the wrist he attempts. “Like you topping them?”
A blush fills his cheeks as his eyes dart away. I’ve been thinking about it more and more since he asked if I wanted him to fuck me. Ass play is great and all, but I’ve never tried with more than one of my fingers.
That alone makes me feel full and slightly uncomfortable, so I’m not sure what a greater stretch would feel like. I’ve been a little too nervous to try.
“Okay, let me rephrase: have you done any videos where you’re the one playing with the other person?”
Matty tilts his head, stuffing another fry in his mouth, and nods.
“I like body worship, so I’ve definitely done some where I spend a lot of time working guys up.
Those usually end in blowjobs. But to answer your first question, no.
I’ve never fucked a guy on camera. I’ve never fucked a guy at all. ”
“Is that something you’d like to do?” The words fly out of my mouth before I can really think about them. Okay, I mean, I guess I’ve been thinking about them a lot, but I wasn’t going to say them out loud.
Matty’s breath stutters, shoulders tensing, but his eyes are staring straight into mine. “Are you offering?”
Am I?
Flashes of Matty on top of me, guiding my body, doing whatever he pleases, they send heat spiraling through me, and I know this is something we at least need to try.
“I don’t know for certain that I’ll like it.” I shrug. “But if you’re up for it…?”
Between one second and the next, Matty’s smile turns blinding. “You could tell me you’re into puppy play and I’d give it a shot.”
I bark out a laugh and reach over the table to ruffle his hair, though he ducks and tries to shove me back. “Who’s the puppy in this scenario, huh? You or me? Maybe you should write about it.”
He lets out his own chuckle and finally succeeds in swatting me away. “Maybe I will. Maybe you’ll get a collar with your name on it for your birthday.”
“Hey now. Yours comes first, and here you are giving me ideas.”
“Hmm. Me fucking you might be a pretty good birthday present.”
I bite my lip and try not to laugh again, but there’s so much joy filling up my chest that it’s almost impossible not to.
“Think sooner. I’m proposing we find a day and time we can have for ourselves, set up your camera … and you can do whatever you want to me.”
The look in Matty’s eyes holds a filthy promise. “Are you sure about that?”
“One hundred percent. I’ll be at your mercy.”
When Matty breaks eye contact and ducks his head, I worry maybe I took it too far, but then I spot his smile, the one he thinks he can hide but his expressive eyes give him away.
It hasn’t just been years since I’ve been in a relationship, it’s been years since I’ve had a real, deeper than surface level friendship. I like the guys at work, and sure we head here after shift some nights to unwind, but that’s not the same as having someone in my life who gets me.
The realization unveils a little peek into the depth of pain Matty must have been dealing with these last few years. If he and Riley shared a connection like this, I can only imagine the void it must have left behind.
Do I fill that for him? Even a fraction?
I set my hand on the table, palm up, needing a physical tether to this thing between us. Matty’s fingers slide across mine, gentle at first, and then take hold like maybe he needs it, too.
My throat itches as I stare at our hands, at the warmth of his palm on mine, of his fingertips pressed to my wrist.
“You’re my best friend,” I say softly, half hoping he won’t hear and half praying that he does. “I don’t want to lose this.”
I understand his fear. I understand why starting this was a terrifying uphill battle for him. It’s not just the threat of falling in love.
It’s coming to love someone so completely, romantic attraction aside, that it becomes impossible to untangle yourself from them.
When things end, when what should have worked inexplicably doesn’t, it’s not just a part of your heart that goes, it’s the bits and pieces of your soul that are connected to theirs that’s ripped apart.
It’s not just me Matty is connected to.
It’s Cal.
It’s our whole unit.
“Me neither,” Matty’s soft voice pushes through my heavy thoughts.
There’s something else in the way he’s staring at our joined hands, how he squeezes mine with the slightest tremble. His jaw ticks but doesn’t open, and if his head is in any amount of the disarray mine is, the last thing he needs is for me to push.
I want all of Matty Nichols. Someday.
The thought holds an uncomfortable weight.
Falling in love with you would be effortless, I had said.
It certainly was.