34. Inside
34
INSIDE
O nce the sun had dipped below the horizon, the mid-March winds would rise, cuttingly cold. Mathias waited for Alberto to slip his hand into his, then he took him back inside, locking the doors after them and closing the curtains.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He made his way around the room, switching on two side lamps and refraining from turning on another.
Still wrapped in his blanket, Alberto settled on the sofa, the lamps casting a gentle light on his features. “No, thanks. We know too well what I turn into when I mix my meds with wine.”
Mathias cocked his head. “I didn’t offer you booze.”
“I thought you would. There’s no way this place doesn’t have a bar.”
Mathias’s eyes darted toward the mini bar concealed by the TV. “I’ll get you some water.” He backtracked toward the kitchen. “Stay put. Don’t move.”
“Can I get some coffee instead?”
“Okay.”
“The way you made it this winter, at your place?”
“Sure.” Mathias made an offhand gesture. “No problem.”
He walked away with a sigh of relief, congratulating himself for thinking of buying mini-marshmallows earlier, and when he returned with their drinks a few minutes later, Alberto shed the blanket and wrapped his hands around his “special cappuccino.” The soft glint in his eyes made Mathias want to overturn the coffee table and shout Fuck it, be mine! or some other sickening shit. Instead, he sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, berating his heart for pounding so fast he feared Alberto would hear it.
Alberto took a sip of coffee, the corner of his lip twitching slightly. Mathias regretted not buying a magnifying glass earlier to verify whether what he just saw was the hint of a smile, but it was too late now, the shops were closed, and he was acting crazy—even by V.B. standards.
“You called me a lot,” Alberto said, his eyes carefully kept on the steaming mug in his hands.
“Did I?” Mathias played innocent. “Maybe once or twice…”
“I had my phone turned off while at the clinic. When I turned it on, I saw you had called me a lot.” He added with a frown, “So did Xavier.”
“All this time, I thought you’d blocked me.”
“Why would I do that?” Alberto’s frown deepened. “You’re the one who’s always snappy with me. Why would you assume I’m angry at you?”
“Maybe…” Mathias lowered his eyes. “Maybe I want you to be angry at me.”
“Why?”
“For the way I treated you.”
Alberto’s eyebrows shot up. “This again? I don’t care you didn’t punch my stepdad when you saw… whatever , that night. In fact, I’m actually glad you didn’t. His guys would have broken both your legs. To say nothing of what Oleg would have done if he’d thought you were a danger to my mother.”
“I’m not just talking about that.”
“Then what?”
Fine . Since Alberto’s memory was unreliable, Mathias would have to do the heavy lifting.
“The last time we were together, in bed… Afterward, you said I hurt you.”
Alberto first shook his head, as if he had no idea what Mathias was talking about, before suddenly pinching his lips. “Oh, right. That day, I was having a… a headache. It had nothing to do with you.”
Mathias studied his face, unconvinced. “Really?”
“Yes. ”
“But I said plenty of mean things to you, all the time we were together. Things?—”
“Not all the time, and so did I.” Alberto shrugged. “It was our way of doing foreplay, wasn’t it?”
Mathias blinked. “I don’t…”
Alberto gave a dramatic sigh. “You’re like that,” he said, putting his coffee down. “A sheep in wolf’s clothing.”
He scooted closer. Mathias’s muscles turned rigid when their knees brushed against each other’s.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” Alberto asked, his voice low.
Mathias shook his head, his pulse quickening. “Did I scare you?” he asked in kind.
“You… intrigued me, I think. I remember I felt… something. But fear? No.”
“I pushed you against the wall.”
“I guess you really wanted to put your hands on me.” Alberto puffed out a laugh, then he retreated to the back of the sofa and picked up his coffee. “Anyway, even then, I wasn’t afraid of you.” He drank from his cup. “I know you see yourself as a piece of shit. You told me that time, outside the museum. You see yourself one way, I see you another.”
“How…” Mathias voice was croaky. He closed his fists on his lap. “How do you see me?”
Perhaps he could lead the conversation toward the only thing that mattered to him. Could they get back together or not? Would he feel the warmth of his lips against his own, or was Alberto done with it all? Because so far, all Mathias had felt growing between them was an incomprehensible distance.
“Honestly?” Alberto said, his gaze falling on Mathias’s hands. “You never did anything to me I didn’t ask for. In fact, you always did what I wanted, in bed. You were the one negotiating at first, arguing we should take it easy. Maybe I didn’t like when you told me I was a bad person, but in your actions at least, you were quite sweet. Think about it. We always did what I wanted.”
“That’s not how I remember things?—”
“The only things I never asked you to do were the stupid, sappy ones. Like kissing my neck, my face, holding my hand when we did it… Spooning at night. You didn’t even realize you were doing it. You can deny all you want, and I can see you want to call me names right now, bu t I’m not afraid of you. I was never afraid of you.” He turned pensive, his lips hovering over his mug. “How could we have done what we did if I didn’t trust you? I gave you my body. Willingly. God knows I don’t care for that kind of stuff.”
Mathias was still scowling from hearing his gestures of affections were stupid sappy things . His expression only softened when Alberto covered his hand with his own.
“Mathias, I know violent people. I’ve known violence, and I’ve known cruelty in many forms. You’re neither violent nor cruel. It was never your temper that scared me, if I was ever scared. It was…”
“It was…?”
Instead of answering him, Alberto grew silent. Pain flashed in his eyes, and for a moment, Mathias felt he was within his reach again. “Let me ask you something,” he said. “If you could do anything, anything to me right now, what would you do?”
Caught off guard, Mathias hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.” Alberto nudged him with one of his feet. “You do.”
“Then I…” Mathias gripped the hand covering his own. “Then I would pet your hair. Maybe hug you against my chest a bit. Kiss your… face. This sort of thing.” He grew bolder. “Hold you, but gently, and doing things, but slowly.”
“Scary stuff indeed.” Alberto retrieved his hand in a brisk gesture. “What a big bad wolf you turned out to be.” He almost sounded disappointed.
“Alberto…” Mathias already missed the warmth of his hand beneath his own. He grew desperate. “Alberto… Did you ever like me?”
Alberto made a sound of frustration. “Why do you keep asking me that?”
“At the clinic, you said no. But then, you came to the station.”
“It’s your fault! Writing notes like this… I guess I got emotional.” He shrugged, as if the matter was inconsequential.
Mathias scoffed, wounded by his indifference. “Yes, because you’re usually so emotional.”
Alberto shot him a rare dark look. Mathias realized that perhaps angering him wasn’t the right way of confessing his feelings, although it weirdly felt the most natural. So, he recalibrated, and spoke more kindly. “But your password, why was it my favorite band?”
Alberto answered with another shrug.
That was too much for Mathias to bear. Slapping his own forehead in frustration, he rose and retreated to the back of the room. “Tell me the truth, please. Did you ever want us to be together?”
Alberto also stood, slowly and carefully. If he weren’t afraid of Mathias, why was he acting so guardedly, like he wanted to tell him off but was worried about the consequences?
“Maybe, yes. At one time.”
At one time . A tendril of panic seized Mathias’s chest. He turned away from Alberto to conceal his turmoil. “Really?”
“Yes…”
“But not anymore.”
“I don’t?—”
“What changed?”
“I don’t know. Everything?” Alberto gave a sigh. “I… I was certain you’d sought me out. That you’d lied about our parents so you could get close to me. I convinced myself of that, and when we saw our parents together, I sort of lost my mind, so…”
“Why? Why did you care so much about our parents’ stuff?”
“Power, I guess.”
“Power?” Mathias repeated, his forehead creasing. “What does that even mean?”
“I’d been clinging to that amount of power I had over you. Knowing you always came back, needing me in your bed. Without it, I was afraid of losing myself, and I was afraid I would start asking for things I could neither receive nor return. When we saw my mother with your dad, it made me realize you never sought me out. I never had power over you. It was all bullshit, as you say. So, yes, everything changed after that. For me, at least.”
For a moment, Mathias was stunned into silence. Tonight was the first time he heard Alberto speak for more than one or two sentences, and in clear terms. If only what he was saying were more agreeable… When at last, the meaning of his words reached Mathias’s brain, he whirled around to face him.
“But! But it wasn’t, though!”
“What?” Alberto asked in a dubious tone.
“False!” Mathias’s voice came out high pitched, betraying his distress. “I did it, all of it!” When he heard this, Alberto’s eyes widened, and confusion marred his features. “I really did use whatever our parents were doing to lure you to spend some time with me. You think I’m not capable of asking my dad a straight question? He’s the nicest guy on the fucking planet. Anyone can steamroll him, you have no idea. All I had to do was ask. But instead, I thought… now I have a good excuse to… to push you against a wall, I guess!” Mathias let out a dark laugh. “God… I’m such an idiot!”
If only he hadn’t been so fucking traumatized, and if only he’d known then what that kind of love felt like, he could have just been honest with him. None of this shit would have happened. Maybe they’d be together. It was all his own damn fault.
Across the room, Alberto was as still as a marble statue. His eyes red, his lip trembling, he was gazing at Mathias with a strange expression. “You kept acting like a beast when I suggested you were gay.”
Mathias turned away from him. Now that Alberto had destroyed his hopes of a relationship with a few words, he felt drained. With a dismissive wave of the hand, he shuffled toward the sofa. “I don’t fucking care about that.”
“You—” Alberto’s mouth fell open. “What did you just say?”
“What?” Mathias blinked at him. “I don’t care about that stuff.”
“You don’t—” Alberto huffed. “You gave me shit every time I suggested it, asshole!”
“Being gay wasn’t the problem, asshole !” Mathias glowered. “It was you!”
“What the— You know what?” Alberto returned his glare tenfold. “Fuck you. I mean it. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!”
“Fuck me, fine!” Mathias sank into the sofa. “Christ! You really never say the right things.” He started rubbing his face with both hands. “Why can’t you ever say the right things? Not once...” He glanced up at him. “You’re killing me over here!”
“Oh.” Alberto’s expression gradually relaxed. “Sorry.” After a while, he cautiously edged back toward the sofa. “What was it?” he asked, resuming his seat with a straight back. “What did you want me to say?”
What’s the point? Mathias thought. He wondered what he’d do now, stuck in The Cabin with a guy who didn’t want him. He wanted to run away, to disappear. Become someone else. Someone Alberto would fall in love with.
“ Fuck me ,” he said. “You were actually right the first time.”
“But what else did you want me to say?” Alberto asked softly.
Mathias had nothing to lose. He carefully cast his gaze on the black screen of the TV to avoid the upcoming sight of Alberto smirking at him and accidentally locked eyes with his own downtrodden expression.
“That you like me,” he said, resigned. “That’s all I ever wanted from you. Even if I didn’t know it then. If you’d said you liked me, I…” With difficulty, he swallowed back the flood of emotions rising up in his throat. “But you always acted so inapproachable. I knew you’d crush me if I confessed altogether. You’re so scary that way…” Mathias ignored Alberto’s gasp of disbelief. “But we grew closer, didn’t we? During the holidays… I could feel it, just as I feel that distance between us right now. Like you’re miles away even though you’re so close. But the one night I wanted to ask you out, that stuff with your stepdad happened, and I panicked. If that stuff hadn’t happened, I…”
“You wanted to ask me out, the night of Eric’s party?”
“Oh yeah.” Mathias gave a small nod. “Yep. That was the plan.”
“Fuck.” Alberto’s shoulders sank before Mathias’s eyes. “It all went so wrong.”
“I’d say.”
“Like it wasn’t meant to be.”
There it is. We were not meant to be. Mathias’s heart plummeted. In how many more terms would Alberto annihilate him tonight?
“It would be stupid to keep making the same mistakes…” Alberto continued. “Wouldn’t it?”
Mathias glanced at him. “We don’t have to—” He paused. Alberto had lifted his hand to his forehead, his features twisted in obvious pain. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He screwed his eyes shut. “Just a headache.”
“Do you need some aspirin?”
Alberto nodded, so Mathias went to the medicine cabinet to retrieve some, and brought him a glass of water. Alberto swallowed the pills, all the while avoiding meeting Mathias’s eyes.
“I’m fine, really. I’ve just done too much thinking today.”
The sight of Alberto like this reminded Mathias of how he looked at the museum, and how stupid Mathias was not to notice he really was just human, like him. Sometimes, impossible to deal with. Other times so… vulnerable.
“Do you have them often? These headaches.” Mathias kept his tone as quiet as he could, while resisting the urge to comfort him, push Alberto’s hair away from his face… kiss his temple… tell him everything would be okay from now on.
He had missed his shot.
Alberto shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head again. “I don’t know. Usually, when I read small print for an extended period of time, stuff like that. Mostly, I’m just, you know…” He shrugged again. “Ad d that to the happy pills, I’m pretty much useless, as everyone knows.”
“Come on, now.” Mathias forced a smile. “You’re not useless.”
“You used to say I was useless.”
“Yes. I used to say a lot of crap.” Mathias laughed at his own stupidity. “You know that was BS, right? Why would I keep coming back if I found you useless?”
“Well…” Alberto smirked. “I do have one talent.”
There was a pause. Was that an attempt at humor? Or was it really what Alberto thought of himself? What was really going on in that head of his? Mathias recalled Xavier’s fierce expression when he accused him of not knowing anything about Alberto. His chest tightened with guilt.
“Why do you take antidepressants?” he asked, his hand moving on its own to touch Alberto’s forehead. He received no complaint, so he pushed his luck, plunged his hand into his hair and pulled it away from his face. “Because of your father?”
“I don’t know.” Alberto suddenly became flustered, jerking away from him. “Things. Life. Stasia. I don’t know.”
Mathias regretfully withdrew his hand, his fingers still singing from the touch.
“My father, yes!” Alberto then blurted out, and he looked strangely relieved. “My father.”
He glanced at him, hesitant. Mathias’s burning fingers ached to grip him and pull him closer.
“During the holidays, you told me you missed him,” he said, working hard to retain his self-control. “Was that true?”
“Yes, sometimes. The notion of having a father, I guess. Someone to watch over me, and teach me things, and…” Alberto’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “It doesn’t matter, does it? What’s done is done.”
“But…” Mathias’s voice fell to a whisper. “Do you know what happened to him? After he…”
“After my mother took me from the hospital, and we escaped? Yes, I do. He has a new family now. Hopefully, it worked out better for them than for us. Maybe he’s a proper dad to his new children. Maybe they can play football and don’t look like their mother. I don’t know.”
It surprised Mathias that Alberto didn’t look upset while talking about this. He looked like he had made peace with the fact that his dad almost killed him, whereas since finding out about it, Mathias had had nightmares about meeting the bastard in a dark alley and dealing with him in ways better left unsaid.
“You’re not even angry at him?”
“Oh yes, I am.” Alberto gave a curt laugh, and a faint glow brightened his eyes. “I really am. Sometimes, I think about him, his big shadow towering over my mother’s crumpled form in her bedroom, and how small she looked then, and how she’d done nothing wrong but dress us in costumes and dance to her favorite song, but he hated it so much somehow that he felt he had to break her into tiny pieces. It’s like he couldn’t stand looking at her face, or mine for that matter, and I never knew what I did to him, and I never learned to stand up for myself. Fight back. And that’s it. That’s why I’m angry at him. Not just because he hit my mother and broke my jaw and shoved me into that stupid mantelpiece. I hate him for forcing my mother to give away every last cent of her modelling money in exchange for a divorce, leaving her with nothing but her charms to secure our future. But taking away my voice…” Alberto gritted his teeth, his lip trembling. “This, this is the worst thing he ever did to me. Robbing me of my ability to say… ‘Stop.’” His gaze grew distant. “‘Don’t do this to me.’”
He seemed to be shuddering. Mathias instinctively took hold of his hand. “You’ll never see her again.”
“What?” Alberto looked straight through Mathias for a second before his gaze focused again. “Yes, you’re right.”
He abruptly tossed his head back and flashed Mathias a smirk, but his eyes were brimming with tears, canceling the effect. Shaking from the ferocity of his feelings, Mathias bit viciously into his own lip. When a single tear fell from Alberto’s eye, and he slapped his hand over his face with an embarrassed sound, Mathias’s heart lurched violently in his chest.
“I can be your voice…” he said, forgetting himself.
The words were out, carrying with themselves the brunt of his feelings. But once again, they were met with laughter.
“Okay.”
“No.” Mathias spoke quietly. “I mean it.”
Alberto threw him a look of disbelief, but Mathias’s expression gave him pause. His gaze hardened, his lips parted in surprise. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“After all this… all this… Why on earth would you say something like that?”
“I don’t?— ”
“Why would you say something like that? It’s?—”
“What the fuck do you think?”Mathias sprung up from the sofa. “Because I love you, that’s why!” He covered his face with his hands. “Fuck’s sake! You’re impossible to talk to! You’re—?” He stopped talking, his blood draining out of his face.
Fuck.
Of all the ways to tell someone… after all this time... He couldn’t even manage a confession! Mathias stood frozen in the middle of the room, too horrified to look over his shoulder. When he finally dared steal a glance, Alberto was still sitting on the sofa, his mouth agape.
“I…” Mathias began, his face burning.
“Look at you…” Although Alberto’s eyes were wide with shock, he still managed to taunt him. “Great, great orator skills.”
“I know.”
“Assolympic Gold Medal.”
“I know.”
“Undefeated champion of pricks.”
“Okay. I get it.” Mathias shoved his hands in his pockets. “I deserve this.”
“Hang on, I have a couple more…”
“Please.” Mathias approached him. “I’m sorry, Alberto. Clearly, I…” He let out a weary sigh. “I’m the one who never says the right things. It’s always been me who… fucked everything up.”
His eyes never leaving him, Alberto attempted a laugh, but only a strangled sound came out. He started fidgeting on the sofa, a deep flush creeping up his face. Mathias didn’t dare make a move. He waited, his heart pounding in his ears.
“You bastard.” Alberto said at last, his gaze turned fierce. “You little French bastard.”
Mathias had no idea how to retort. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Alberto watched him, his jaw set, before pointing at the seat next to him.
“Come. Sit.”
Burning with apprehension, Mathias did as he was told in silence and folded his hands on his lap again, waiting.
“You love me,” Alberto said, his brow furrowed.
“I think so, yes,” Mathias replied quietly. “Yes.”
“You don’t want to just hook up again. You actually love me.”
“Yes.”
“ Me ? ”
“You, yes.”
Their eyes met.
“You love me.” Alberto sounded almost aggrieved, his mouth twisted, his eyes glinting.
“Yes.”
Alberto fell silent, his teeth digging into his lip. In his eyes, darting in all the corners of the room, Mathias could see his fear, his shock, and maybe even a flash of hope. He wanted to confess to him again, normally this time, thinking it might convince him, but Alberto spoke first.
“Prove it.”
All of a sudden, he was on Mathias’s lap, his hands gripping his hoodie, trying to force it open. His fingers fiddling with his zipper, he smashed their mouths together until Mathias’s wits returned and he kissed back hungrily. At last, Alberto conquered Mathias’s hoodie, and with a needy sound, he slipped his hands under Mathias’s shirt and started grinding against him.
“Let’s do it like we used to,” he said against his lips. “I need it. I need you.”
In answer, Mathias held his hand in a tight grip. And just like they used to, Mathias did as he was told. Here they were again, thrashing around the apartment until they found the bed and toppled heavily on it. This time, the baseboard held strong. Alberto was manic again. Mathias’s clothes were practically torn off. Alberto intertwined their legs while groping every inch of him, and they rolled off the bed, almost falling. “I’ve got you,” Mathias started, but Alberto stopped him with his lips, while frantically kicking off his pants.
“Stop talking.” Alberto kissed him again. “Use your fingers. I want you inside me.”
This wasn’t the way Mathias had planned it, but it was enough just to be with him again. Yes, he pushed him down, and he did him from behind, hard, following his directions and savoring his rewards in the form of lustful moans. If that was what Alberto needed, Mathias would prove his love by performing as instructed. But also, he took advantage of the chaos to kiss his shoulder blades, his neck, his hair, and to lock their fingers together. To murmur stupid, sappy things in his ear, until he started begging.
Once again, they were two bodies becoming one in the dark, their sweat and their voices merging, their grievances forgotten.