CHAPTER TWELVE
SEAN
My attention was constantly drawn to Matteo as he stirred the spaghetti sauce simmering on the stovetop. He’d been aloof the days after that night we’d cuddled and he’d cried against me, taking to sleeping for long stretches and tapping his fingers on his thighs as if he were in his own world.
We’d settled into a strained peace of eating dinner together and watching a movie. I wanted to ask how he was doing, but I was afraid of pushing him too far too quickly, so I’d said nothing on the matter. But I needed him to know I was an ear if he wanted to vent.
“Haven’t you ever heard of seasoning?” he muttered. “A little salt and pepper goes a long way.”
“It’s bottled sauce,” I countered. His jabs were less enthusiastic lately too.
He blinked at me for a moment and shrugged. “How do you mess up bottled sauce?”
I popped the garlic bread into the oven and took a deep breath, searching for the right words to say.
Though he hadn’t gone into detail, I understood the trauma religious indoctrination could leave behind.
It was strange, but I couldn’t think of a better person than myself to have found him–except an actual therapist, but that wasn’t the point.
I opened my mouth, closed it, and frowned. It was time to bite the bullet, so I grabbed my proverbial balls and said, “I need you to know I’m a good listener. You don’t have to respond, I just wanted to tell you that.”
He said nothing for a long while, just moved the wooden spoon in a circle as he blinked at the pot. At least, I’d made my point clear. “Is this about the other day when I slobbered all over you?”
The hint of tease in his voice was a good sign as far as I was concerned. I debated on how to approach his response and decided to fall back to our usual bickering. It seemed like the safest option. “The only one I’d let slobber all over me is a cute twink like you.”
He made a sound letting me know he wasn’t convinced.
He tapped the spoon against the lip of the pot and set it on the mushroom-shaped tray in the middle of the stove.
He turned toward me, his dark eyes scanning me as if he were trying to figure something out.
“Do you make it a habit of letting twinks cry all over you?”
A smile tugged at my lips, but I knew it was a genuine question. “No. Not really. But I’ve made an exception for you.”
I didn’t look at him as he stood there, no doubt contemplating my words. He let loose a breath that let me know he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I talk a lot of smack and flirt endlessly, but I’ve never been with anyone.”
The confession stilled me, and I stopped what I was doing to give him my full attention. He was blushing, the color nipping at his ear lobes, his eyes on the linoleum floor. I figured it had taken a lot for him to admit that. “That’s not something to be ashamed of.”
Shrugging, he fiddled with the spoon. “I mean, I’ve kissed a boy before, but I suppose I am too scared to actually do anything…
more. At least, not with strangers. All the clubs and bars…
I just wanted to be around people like me, you know?
Pretend for a little while that I am just another gay man enjoying life without all the problems I have. ”
I spotted the opening and took it. “It was like that for me too. Despite jumping in and becoming a slut overnight it was still very scary for me. I didn’t know what I was doing and was pretty bad at what I did. It wasn’t very fun in the beginning because I couldn’t relax.”
“How do I get past that?”
“You need to do it with someone you trust, someone you’re comfortable with.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think about the implications. Our gazes locked for a moment and I saw his thoughts like a chat bubble over his head–Like you?
I quickly turned away unless he read it all over my face.
The question haunted me: Did I want to go there with him?
Well, yeah. He was a very good-looking young man, but more than that, I enjoyed his company and liked sharing dinner with him while watching a movie.
Those small things again, I reminded myself.
They were going to do me in, I just knew it.
“In the beginning it was a lot of fun dressing up and lurking in bars and clubs. I got heaps of attention. I think I was just trying to figure out who I am and what I like. Pink hair was never my thing though. Too much upkeep.”
I stroked my beard. “Don’t I know? I spend a fortune on products every month.”
“I think the sauce is done,” he murmured. “Noodles are cooked too.”
“Alright, just give the bread a few more minutes. Have you thought about what you might like to watch tonight?” From what little tidbits he’d given away, he hadn’t been exposed to much modern culture like movies, books, and music, so we’d mutually decided to get him caught up on that front.
“I was thinking we should watch something you like. Who is your favorite actor? Like, the one you’d totally sleep with if you had the chance?”
I chuckled, liking the sudden interest on his face, his eyes brightening. “He was before your time, and was the object of many gays my age, but Patrick Swayze made me realize I liked the way guys look. Chris O’Donnel made me want to fuck them, though.”
“I’ve heard the names before. Okay, let’s watch a movie with them. We can start with Patrick Swayze and move on from there.”
“Deal. Boy, do we need to get you caught up. I mean, what kind of gay are you if you don’t know who Patrick Swayze is? It’s blasphemous.”
He offered me a dramatic roll of the eyes.
We settled on the couch with our dinner, and I got the movie going.
I’d chosen Ghost because it was the first thing that popped up.
He offered me a faint smile as we relaxed, and the opening rolled.
It was nice chilling and watching movies.
Sometimes I needed a break from all the noise of the club and preferred a quieter time.
We traded teasing glances during the lovemaking scene, and he seemed genuinely interested in the plot.
“I can see why you’re hot for him,” he commented.
“Oh, I’m just getting started. Wait until Dirty Dancing, then you’ll get it,” I teased and stretched my arm across the backrest. “He also has a good part in a drag-queen flick.”
To my surprise, Matteo scooted a little closer, his curls tickling my bare forearm.
I was glad he was relaxing around me and able to enjoy time off from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside of him.
By the time the movie ended I was a ball of tears and snot, and he was doing his best to hide his cackle.
I should have known better because I was a sap when it came to bittersweet stories of the romantic variety.
“Shut up! Ugh, why did I pick this movie?” I said and wiped my eyes.
“You have no idea how funny it is to watch a big, gruff guy tatted up like you sobbing over a movie.”
I whacked him with a pillow, and he laughed harder. He snatched his own pillow, but the fight was over before it began as he started coughing.
“Alright! We’re done for the day. I’ve got to get ready for work. Make yourself useful, brat and clean up the dishes.” I was tempted to stay here and be on call if needed, but I’d been doing that too much lately just to be around him.
He was shoveling the leftovers into containers when I left.
At seven, the party was just getting started, the dance floor a little light this early.
I made sure everyone was where they were supposed to be and doing what they were paid for.
Because the crowd was light, Jere was at the entrance, helping check people in.
I bumped my elbow against his in greeting and made my way to the back of the club.
I wasn’t surprised when my phone chimed, letting me know I had a new text.
MATTEO: I wanted to tell you upstairs but it’s easier through texts, I think. I was wondering… Maybe you could be the person to show me what I’ve been missing. I mean, I know you’ve been wanting my ass for a while, so I thought I’d throw you a bone. Just a thought.
That snarky, irresistible, frustrating brat.
If that didn’t make me want to rush upstairs, I didn’t know what would.
His words were going to haunt me all night.
I already found it difficult to work because I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and now that he was offering to have sex with me, it was safe to say I wasn’t going to get much done tonight.
I came up with several responses that were quickly backspaced and proceeded to fume among all the alcohol crates in the storage room.
ME: U want me that bad, huh?
MATTEO: It’s a proximity thing and you’re not hideous.
I caught myself smiling stupidly at my phone again and it took a lot to put it away without responding.
I took a survey of our alcohol stock, so the bosses could place an order for more, the gnawing urge to look at my phone slowing the process down.
Any other time, I enjoyed taking inventory and doing paperwork because it reminded me of how far I’d come.
From leaving Virginia, to landing in Chicago and shaking my ass to survive, all those years of work had ended with me sharing a stake in the Adonis, so I cared about the club’s success.
I tried to ignore the text notification and made it three minutes before I retrieved my phone.
MATTEO: You said I should have sex with someone I trust and feel comfortable with. You’re the only one I can think of. If you don’t think you can keep up, old man, I understand.
Well, damn. How could I say no after he’d just admitted to trusting me? And a very big part of me wanted to be the person to guide him into the crazy world of gay sex, on the count that I wished I’d had someone to help me when I was his age.
MATTEO: Also, this might be your only chance to bang a virgin twink, so I wouldn’t pass it up if I were you.
“Sean!”
“What!” I bit back, a flush of embarrassment at being caught ensorcelled with my text messages crawling up my neck.
Jere frowned at me and pointed behind him with his thumb. “Bosses asked to find you. Something about the stock?”
“Yeah, finishing it up right now. Sorry I snapped at you. Thanks, Jere.”
He hoovered for a moment as if he wanted to say more but didn’t. When he was gone, I glanced at my clipboard and sighed. Matteo was a nice distraction, but a distraction, nonetheless.
I didn’t look at my phone again until I had the stock in the bosses’ hands.
As I climbed the stairs to their office, I heard the Cure’s “Lovesong” clashing against the techno beat of the club.
I peeked my head in their office. They were dancing, Glen twirling Patty as he giggled like a young man.
In their sixties, the two were what everyone should strive for.
Glen noticed me and turned the music down. “Come on in, Gingersnap. We were just goofing off.”
I stepped in and held up the clipboard. “Sorry for the delay.”
“Are you going to tell us what’s got you so distracted?” Glen looked at his husband and wagged his brows.
“Or should we say, who?” Patty asked and they laughed in unison. “I’ll wager a pretty young face. Or–”
“A big cock,” Glen broke in.
He nodded in agreement. “A big pecker changes minds and hearts.”
“So, what you’re saying is all I had to do was show you my junk and I wouldn’t have had to chase you across half the U.S?”
“Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy chasing me,” he countered.
Glen beamed as they went back and forth, and I hoped to find a relationship like theirs one day. I set the stock report on their desk and attempted to slip out unnoticed.
“Oh, Gingersnap. Just a word of advice from two old men that have been around the world a few times. Take advantage of that distraction.”
I saluted them and left, their boyish giggles haunting my steps. What I wouldn’t give to find a love like theirs.
It was almost ten when I pulled up my conversation with Matteo again.
MATTEO: No response. Hm. I think I knocked your socks off.
MATTEO: Sorry, I’m probably bothering you and not in the way we both like. You said you were an ear and I’m feeling…needy, I guess? Tell me to stop and I will.
I ran my thumb across the words, trying to imagine him speaking them, hearing the lilt in his voice as he spoke, and seeing that helpless expression on his face.
There was only one thing stopping me from marching upstairs and showing him how good sex could be and that was the promise I’d made to my twenty-four year old self.
After waking up and having no memory of the night before, I swore off casual sex for a deeper human connection.
But sex with Matteo wouldn’t be casual, would it?
We were friends of sorts–could we be friends with benefits? I wasn’t sure if I wanted that, either.
The handful of relationships I’d had after my promise had taken place in my twenties and it had been a good five years since I’d last seen anyone.
I was rusty, to say the least and maybe a little nervous about jumping back in.
But sex was like riding a bike and I’d done so much riding on all kinds of vehicles I’d collected a vast array of knowledge.
I was the perfect person to initiate him.
ME: I had some important paperwork to do. It’s done. To answer U, I think U might be onto something.
MATTEO: About you not letting the opportunity pass?
ME: Hey, I’m the teacher here. You’re not throwing me a bone.
MATTEO: Teacher? You’re more Daddy material than suave professor.
ME: Sounds like U might have a daddy/boy fantasy. Care to let me in on it?
MATTEO: Even if I did, you should feel privileged that a hot, young boy like me chose you. I’d imagine there are just as many Daddies out there as twinks. You’re not special.
I wasn’t sure why, but his words set something off inside me.
I wanted to prove my prowess to him and blow his mind with my vast sexual knowledge.
I was going to make him beg for it, and I’d make him thank me afterwards.
Damn him, but he was digging up all kinds of things I didn’t know I had inside me and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to re-bury them.
I sent a follow-up.
SEAN: So, U want me to be your Daddy, huh?