7. Dance for Me
7
DANCE FOR ME
H e held his hand in a vice-like grip. They took a staircase, Mathias leading in the dark —Mathias always leading in the dark—and Alberto advanced into the deepest black, a shadow among shadows, but with a faint smile on his face. He knew. He knew he wasn’t alone, and he knew what awaited him atop these stairs was nothing to be afraid of.
Once again, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Mathias led him into an office. Small strings of fairy lights hanging over the desk bathed the room in a faint but warm glow. Alberto accidentally squeezed Mathias’s hand, and he felt it twitch back. His heart lurched in his chest.
“I like this song,” he blurted out. He’d almost said something stupid.
Not letting go of his hand, Mathias turned his ear toward the door to listen. “Dance for me,” he said.
Alberto shook his head. “I don’t know how.”
“Lies. I know you can move.”
Alberto couldn’t recall when he’d seen him dance, unless he’d somehow travelled back in time and spied on him and his mother, seen them dancing in their elaborate costumes in front of the gilded mirror, trapped in the ever-spinning carousel.
“Plus,” Mathias added, lips hot against his ear, “you said you’d be good once I got you up here. ”
Alberto didn’t know how to answer that, so he said nothing, but he did dance. He moved under the burning gaze of Mathias and didn’t break eye contact once, hoping he’d get a proper reward, a reward in words, perhaps—or better, in empty promises.
He danced for a short amount of time until Mathias closed in on him, and he had to stop. His back met with a bookshelf. Shivering slightly, he bent his head just a little. Mathias, quiet as a breath, softly kissed his offered lips. His fist tightened around his tie and pulled until what was a soft caress turned into something more… familiar.
“I like the suit.” Still hanging onto the tie, he spoke against Alberto’s lips. “You look good tonight.”
“Don’t I always look good?”
“Particularly tonight,” he whispered, making Alberto’s lips tingle. “Was that for me?”
Alberto was anxious not to say the wrong thing; it was an unfamiliar feeling. He was used to playing this or that role to get Mathias to do him the way he wanted. Now, he couldn’t ignore how nervous he was not to mess things up, and it wasn’t because of sex. He did want Mathias to like him, to stop calling hima bad person. He wanted to be good. His good boy , like when they were wrestling under the sheets and Mathias lost himself to his lust and whispered praises in his ear. He wanted that feeling outside of bed, too.
Huh. He wanted way too much, for someone whose only quality was to look like his mother.
“What would you like me to say?” His helplessness never translated. His voice was like a whisper, barely audible.
Mathias took some time before whispering back, “Say nothing.”
He kissed him again. Alberto felt himself turn liquid, and he thought of Zak slumping into Eric’s arms, legless. He wondered out of nowhere what sort of sex Zak and Eric would have tonight, and suddenly, he felt the urge to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Mathias asked, sounding vexed.
A burst of feminine laughter downstairs made Alberto flinch. “There are too many people around. If we don’t watch it, we’re gonna get caught.”
“I know. You’re right.”
Mathias released the tie and, using his palm, pushed him away for good measure. Now, Alberto panicked. He didn’t want to let go. “Wait.”
Slinging his long arms around his neck, he brought their mouths together again. Mathias laughed against his lips. Tipsy, tipsy Mathias. Whatever he drank, he tasted the same: rich, sweet, and exquisite. He suddenly caught Alberto’s arm, whirled him around, and pushed him against the bookcase.
When he cupped him, Alberto gasped. “Hang on… do you know where we are?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t care right now.”
“But it’s?—”
“The safest place, now shh .”
Alberto closed his mouth. If Mathias wanted to get naughty, he wouldn’t be the one to stop him. He allowed himself to get trapped between his burning body and the bookcase, full of titles he couldn’t be bothered to decipher right now. Mathias never wasted time, and in seconds, he held him in his fist, his grip firm and soft at the same time. Alberto wanted to tell him not to go too far, and he also wanted to tell him to go beyond every limit. In the end, he said nothing. Closing his eyes, he flung a hand back to stroke Mathias’s scalp, enjoying the possessive feel of his greedy lips on his neck.
“Am I your best fuck?” Mathias asked suddenly. His voice was hot and smooth in his ear. Knowing better than to interrupt good sex with useless words, Alberto said, “Sure,”thinking, why not , and Mathias seemed satisfied.
“Am I?” Alberto couldn’t resist asking in return.
Mathias grunted like he was annoyed — that beast —even thoughhestarted it. “You are,” he muttered, plunging his nose back into his neck.
And instead of making things awkward, it just made everything better.
Working him closer to his climax, Mathias was pushing his hips into him and smothering small noises into the flesh of his nape. For a moment, Alberto thought he’d lose control and actually fuck him against the shelf—in Eric’s home—which drove him a little wild with guilt but also with trepidation. In the midst of all this passion, he decided he should wear ties more often. One thing was certain: he was past the point of caring whether Mathias would ever admit to being gay.
Alberto tried to keep quiet the whole time, only allowing the quietest sounds to escape, but gradually, sighs turned into moans which turned into pleas, and Mathias kept urging him to go on and go on and come for him … Suddenly, he questioned whether the music downstairs co uld cover their voices, and when he found his release, a strangled cry broke its way free. His whole body shaking, he gripped the edge of a shelf and held on tight, his mind so blank he couldn’t recall his own name.
“Alberto…”
There it was. Alberto exhaled a shuddering breath. Tonight, something was in the air, something powerful, frightening, and exhilarating. Alberto desired to give all his goodness to Mathias—every little pathetic shred of it—watch him smile, and witness that glint of desire in his eye. His chest constricted, full of all the words he couldn’t say.
He understood the shift in his heart as it occurred, with a clarity he had never experienced before. After years of stillness, the first tremor will feel earth-shattering.
“Did you hear me?” Mathias whispered in his ear before kissing it.
Alberto shivered, stunned by the sudden realisation. “W-What?”
“You’ll stay over at mine tonight, right?”
“Yes,” he replied immediately. Then, as Mathias’s lips trailed down his cheek, he recalled and said, “No!”
“Hm?”
“No, sorry, I can’t stay over.”
“What?”
Mathias finally stopped rutting against him. Alberto slowly faced him.
“I’ve got to go home. I’ve avoided another one of my stepfather’s parties, but I had to promise my mother I’d sleep at home.”
Mathias pretended not to be annoyed, but Alberto knew him too well now. He pressed his body against Mathias’s. “Hang on, I’ll get you off.”
“No, I’m good.” He sounded blocked up.
“I’ll get you off,” Alberto repeated gently, and he gave him a light kiss.
He sunk to his knees and did something with his lips that had Mathias rub his scalp with both hands and glance toward the ceiling with a pained expression.
“No?” Alberto asked when their eyes met again.
Mathias gripped his hair with both hands, a crude gesture which couldn’t be misinterpreted.
He would never be proud of what happened in that room then, but Alberto really was. It took less than thirty seconds that time, and when Alberto rose again —licking his own lips for added effect— a vulnerable Mathias, cheeks flushed and legs unsteady, suddenly spoke up. And though Alberto knew better than to believe the words of a guy who’d just got off, he couldn’t help having a faint smile curl his lip.
“You’re amazing,” Mathias had said.
The party was at a lull when Alberto returned downstairs. To his relief, both Michael and his boyfriend seemed to have left already, and Alberto congratulated himself on not having exchanged a single word with any of them, despite Michael gifting him his spot at the award ceremony. In his mind, and he was sure Louis would agree, a polite Thank you text would suffice.
Zak had gone from adorably tipsy to only drinking pint after pint of water under the confused gaze of Eric. Arthur was explaining the overall plot of the movie they were about to watch to Eric’s mother, who had just returned from her Ladies night and looked just as overexcited as Camille next to her. The movie in question was the one they shot last summer, My Summer of Love and Woe .
Alberto had no desire to watch it again. He checked the time, knowing he should go, but Mathias was sitting miserably at the kitchen table surrounded by Eric’s friends, so he dragged his feet over, and Xavier immediately pulled him close.
“What’s up?” Alberto asked faintly, the taste of Mathias still lingering on his tongue.
Charles-Henry replied with a grin, “Xavier has a crush on Camille.”
“I can’t help it!” Xavier whined. “I love it when they hate me.”
Alberto tossed her a look over his shoulder. “She’s too smart for you, let it go.”
Xavier sighed in defeat. “What can I say? Alberto’s always right.”
“You can add that to the list of the dumbest things you’ve said,” Alberto said without thinking, slumping on a chair. A little burst of laughter coming from Mathias attracted everybody’s attention.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Elodie asked, sounding amazed.
“Matt’s in a good mood,” Xavier said, teasing. He attempted to squeeze Mathias’s shoulder but was discouraged by his warning glare.
When Camille started playing the movie, most people got closer to the TV. But Xavier and Charles-Henry stayed put, and Alberto noticed with some pride that it was testing Mathias’s patience.
“Not going to watch?” he asked them in a sarcastic tone .
Xavier laughed. “Nope, watched it so many times already.” He chugged down a shot of tequila and passed one to Charles-Henry, who asked if he had brandy instead. Xavier ignored him, and, leaning on the table, he flashed Alberto a wink. “We can chat instead.”
“Chat?” Mathias looked repulsed at the notion, causing Alberto to bite down his lip to repress a laugh. “About what?”
“I don’t know. Anything.” He glanced at each of his friends with a slight frown, then offered, “Let’s do celebrity crushes!”
Charles-Henry giggled nervously. “Isn’t that a bit private?”
“What? No! We’re at a party, loosen up a little.”
Never vexed by anything, Charles-Henry humoured him with a smile. “Fine, you go first, then.”
“Hmm…” Xavier took some time to answer. “Charlize Theron, obviously!”
Alberto rolled his eyes. “So out of your league.”
Mathias acknowledged his statement with a subtle nod.
“Matt, who’s yours?” Xavier pushed a shot of tequila toward him. To Alberto’s surprise, Mathias drank it without question.
“Dunno.”
“Come on, everyone has one. C. H., what’s yours?”
“Uh… Charlize Theron’s great.”
“See? Another one, maybe?”
“Maybe… Eva Green?”
“Who?”
“She’s beautiful,” Alberto agreed.
“Never mind.” Xavier drank another shot. “Who’s yours, Matt?”
Mathias looked bored. “I don’t know. Stop asking me.”
“Xavier!” Eric shouted from the living room. “You’re about to get whacked! Come on!”
“Oh, it’s my scene with Camille!” Xavier sprung to his feet and left them to watch the moment Camille, playing the kitchen wench, beat the crap out of him for spying on their lord. Officially, it was Alberto’s favourite scene in the movie. Unofficially, Alberto preferred the ultimate kiss between Eric and Zak’s characters. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the way Eric pushed Zak against that writing desk suggested he had some skills in thelaying wastedepartment.
“I’m going to watch, too. I love the way she hit his head with that prop spoon.” With an eerie smile, Charles-Henry trotted away. Only Mathias and Alberto remained, and the former looked sombre as he helped himself to a glass of wine .
“Is everything okay?” Alberto asked.
Mathias drank without meeting his eyes. “What’s yours?”
“My…?”
“Who’s your celebrity crush?”
“Oh…” Alberto rested his chin on his hand. “I don’t have celebrity crushes.”
Mathias glanced up. “You don’t?”
Alberto flashed him a wicked smirk. “I have fictional character crushes.”
Mathias’s eyes narrowed. “Always so fucking weird…” He forcefully cleared his throat. “Anyway. Who’s yourfictional charactercrush, then?”
“Easy. Omar Little.”
“Who?”
“Omar Little from The Wire ?”
“No idea who that is.”
Alberto explained to him who he was. Mathias looked disgusted. “You see yourself with some old guy carrying a shotgun? Why?”
“Omar’s not that old… and so what? I like the idea of doing crime with my hot duster-wearing boyfriend. What’s wrong with that?”
Mathias glowered at him and helped himself to some more wine. “Nothing, I guess.”
“Omar can kick ass.” Alberto stretched his arms over his head, making sure Mathias didn’t miss it. “I’m sure he’d give me a nice pounding, too. He’s super fit.”
Mathias’s face darkened. He was so handsome; it was worth staring at his disgruntled expressions for hours. His hand was shaking a little when he chugged down his wine.
“Who’s your crush, then?” Alberto asked. “Of course, you couldn’t tellthem, but you can tell me.”
“What do you mean?” Mathias put his glass down. “Why do you think I couldn’t tell them?”
Because your crush is probably proof that you’re as gay as I am ,Alberto thought. He knew he couldn’t say it, or Mathias would start breathing fire again. They held each other’s gaze in silence until Mathias’s lip curled, and he poured himself another glass of wine.
“So?” Alberto pushed forward. “Your crush?”
“Don’t have one.”
“Come on?—”
“I don’t!” Mathias drank deeply from his glass. “Didn’t have much time to think about this stuff while Mom was sick, did I? I don’t even turn on my TV. I think the last show I watched was Prison Break , so?—”
“Nice!” Alberto chuckled. “A prison show with countless guys to drool over.”
“You’re obsessed, you know that?” Mathias said in a gruff tone. “I’m not like you. I don’t look at people that way. I have other things to think about.”
Worried he went too far, Alberto cast his eyes down. He only looked up when Mathias spoke again.
“In any case…” he was muttering, “I can give you one, if that’s what you want.”
“Give me what?”
“A good pounding.”
Alberto’s heart thumped; his blood rushed to his face. Mathias didn’t notice, too busy drinking his wine as fast as possible. Suddenly, Alberto wanted nothing more than what he was just offered, and he resented the promise he made to his mother.
“I have to go home…” he mumbled.
Mathias wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why? Do you always do what your mom tells you?”
“Well… yes. She’s my mother. She only wants the best for me.”
Only twice ever had he disobeyed Mamma. Once was when she insisted he finish that photoshoot, and he raised hell instead. Her reaction was to dump her husband, jump onto the next train, and move them both to yet another country, and he ended up with Stasia for a stepsister.
Alberto tried his best not to disobey or disappoint her, but sometimes, he had to. That’s why he did feel bad about deliberately failing his Drama Club audition last summer, but not bad enough to prevent him from sleeping. Alberto did not like the spotlight as much as his mother did, but he’d rather she didn’t know that. Every time they moved, it got worse. What would happen next time? So, he’d long decided there would be no next time. He simply told her Eric got the part because he was better than him, which he was, hands down, and despite Mamma’s disappointment, he felt no regret.
“I get it,” Mathias said. “But my mom’s the one who told me I should disobey while I was still young.”
“I’m sure she was fun,” Alberto conceded.
“She was.” Mathias shifted in his seat. “Is yours…? Is your mom fun? ”
“I don’t…” Alberto frowned. “I don’t think so.”
He really had no clue. Mamma could be butchering people in the basement Dexter -style, and he would still think the world of her. He was like that. Once he loved, he loved blindly and unconditionally. And he loved her more than he loved life. But was she really fun? She may have been, once, or maybe she’d always been either on the lookout or too tired to move. Perhaps she and Alberto shared more than their looks, perhaps they were one and the same: The brittle and empty shell of a once-promising child.
If his mother wasn’t so beautiful, she’d have no one and nothing. And Alberto would go down the same road if he wasn’t careful. He used to not care at all about this, but lately, he found himself wanting a little more from life. It had happened so gradually, he didn’t notice at first, but if he’d been told he’d meet someone who would make him jump out of bed in the morning with the simple memory of their scent, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. And yet… Alberto closed his eyes and inhaled deeply to get a whiff of Mathias’s cologne and hummed when he caught it. When he opened his eyes again, Mathias was watching him curiously.
A loud yelp interrupted them. It was Eric, who looked like he’d just learned some mind-blowing news. “Thank you all for coming!” he bellowed, a fierce look in his eye. “Stay as long as you want. You can find your own way out!” He caught Zak by the hand, and they flew down the corridor. Shortly after, a door slammed shut.
“More things than a few glasses will get broken tonight, it seems,” Alberto said. His words forced another laugh out of Mathias.
“You’re so bad. So bad .”
Alberto swept a ravenous gaze over him. “Next time you see Zak, ask him about his butthole.”
“Christ.” Mathias coughed in his fist. “You’re not… not even a bit jealous?”
“Huh? Why?”
“You and Zak…”
Alberto shook his head. “I’m really happy for Zak.”
Mathias sighed. “I don’t understand you.”
“I’m aware.” Alberto flattened his palms on the surface of the table and began to rise. “I’m going home.”
“No!” Mathias said, half-rising himself. He threw a quick look around. Everyone else was in the next room watching the movie. “Wait. Stay a bit longer. ”
His palms flat on the table, Alberto hesitated.
“Come on,” Mathias said. “Have a drink with me.”
Alberto glanced toward the living room, at all those tipsy people, who were having the time of their lives, and he realised, tonight, he wasn’t so different. In fact, he felt pretty normal. Just a normal guy having a normal glass of wine with his normal — but super-hot — hook-up. He could do this. He would do this.
“Okay.”
Mathias’s eyes brightened, and before long, Alberto was taking his first sip of wine in a very long time. It took no time at all for him to feel flustered and strange, his lips stretching at a mere word from him . His glass soon became empty, and he didn’t protest when Mathias filled it again. In fact, he would have given everything for this night never to be over. Time became meaningless, and it felt like only seconds had passed when the drink really got to his head and he was starting to think mushy, unspeakable things, like how he wanted to be held by Mathias, even by force—and especially by force—so that he’d have the excuse to tell the world, Look, I didn’t have a choice, he held me so tight, I didn’t have a choice but to feel warm and safe . He knew how wrong it sounded, and yet he couldn’t allow himself to see things any other way. When his fingers stretched, itching to touch him, to link themselves between Mathias’s own, even to press a kiss to the back of his hand, a shudder rocked his body from head to toe. Alberto stared at the wine in his glass in stupor.