St-st-stuffed

by Anyta Sunday

  God, he needed it.

  The key sucked into the lock, he opened and climbed in. As he began his route back to the Pomodrolly, Karl kept a nervous tapping on the wheel. He hadn't felt like this since . . . since the day Paul had gotten hurt in the accident. He'd been this scared about losing Paul then, too. He’d had the same bubbling inside.

  Only this time he understood it.

  He stopped at a red light. The streets here were almost empty. Another car pulled up from the opposite direction. Karl didn't pay much attention, until beeeeeeeep-beep-beep.

  His gaze flicked up. And all breath left him. He needn't have continued past the license plate, the very familiar plate, to know who he'd see when he looked up. His heart skipped as he latched onto the driver, waving arms pointing for him to turn.

  Paul.

  22

  She-Sha

  KARL’S GUT CLENCHED, the bubbling feeling multiplied itself tenfold and had him squirming in his seat. The lump in his throat was back, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Paul had come for him. He flicked on the blinker, not soon enough for his liking.

  Red. What was wrong with this light? It was taking forever. His gaze flashed back to Paul, who was now glancing, Karl assumed, at the world's slowest lights. He couldn't help the tiniest grin at that. Then his stomach flipped, and the need to puke came back to him.

  He breathed slowly through the sudden rush.

  Still red.

  He inched the Honda forward. Seriously, there were practically no other cars. Certainly none to the left or right. Could he just . . . He eyed Paul once more, glanced to check everything was free, and accelerated around the corner. One glance in the rearview mirror had his grin widening. Paul was such a goody-goody.

  Damn, he was still going to have to wait. So much for that.

  He drove into the gas station's car park. Right at the end, where it was practically empty. Only the tail end of a couple of cars being serviced could be seen.

  Paul parked two spaces from him, Charlie in the back seat. Quickly, Karl climbed out and strode over to Paul, then lifted one finger. Universal sign of 'just a sec'. Veering to the back door, he flashed Charlie a small wave, opened it, and scooted over to the middle.

  "You're back!" Charlie squealed, twisting in his bumper seat.

  A smile pulled at Karl. "Sure am." Then, nice and calm, he spoke to the boy. "Charlie, I have something really important to tell you."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Okay, so put your good listening ears on, okay?"

  Charlie pinched his lobes and stretched.

  Karl nodded. "I want you to know you calling me Karly had nothing to do with why I left today. I'm very sorry I upset you. You're a wonderful boy, and you can always call me Karly. But only you, no one else, 'kay? It's your special name for me."

  Charlie's eyes lit up. "You don't mind, Karly?"

  A shake of his head. "No. It sounds like Charlie, remember? And Charlie is such a cool name. I'm lucky if you call me Karly."

  Then Karl leaned over and kissed the little monkey's forehead. Little arms wrapped around his neck. Then Charlie whispered, "I think papa really missed you. I don't like it when he cries."

  The words panged in Karl's chest and he kissed him once more. "I'm going to try make that better right now, too. See you soon."

  He rounded to the front of the car where Paul leaned, biting his lip. He looked up, and Karl stood in front of him. Close, but not touching. No words necessary; they stared at each other. And it said everything. It spoke apologies, asked for forgiveness, acknowledged stupidity and embarrassment, but most of all it cried love.

  Karl nodded. Just that. And arms flew around each other into an embrace. Strong, smothering, simply perfect.

  A little voice whispered in his head, something that had been there before: Just because this is something you both want, doesn't mean it will be simple. No, it didn't. But it would be worth the struggles.

  "Let's go home, Paul."

  Arms tightened even more, and Karl felt Paul nod, his chin bumping on his shoulder.

  * * *

  Party remains: streamers, balloons (Charlie insisted), and gift-wrappings littered the lounge. Karl quickly cleaned them up as Paul put Charlie to bed. When Paul came out, Karl was in the midst of herding the balloons to one corner of the room.

  "What are we going to do with all these?" Karl said. "There's close to fifty here."

  Paul's answer was to come up behind him and slip his arms over Karl's chest, pulling him close. In his ear: "I don't care."

  Karl dropped the two he held and sunk back into Paul. "Okay, what do you care about?" He heard the leer in his tone and found himself smiling with it.

  Paul nibbled at his throat. "You. I care about you."

  Twisting around, Karl clocked Paul over the back of the head. "Well aren't you a sap."

  "Ow." Paul feigned hurt and rubbed the spot where Karl had got him. Then he grinned, "Yeah, maybe I am a bit."

  Karl locked his arms around the guy's neck and kissed him gently. "And just maybe I like it."

  Paul touched his head again. "That's liking it?"

  Shoving with his body, he backed Paul to the sofa. "I haven't finished yet." Once he straddled Paul's lap, he leaned back. How lucky he was. To be here, right now. His insides swelled as the bubbling feelings rushed through him.

  "What's on your mind?" Paul asked, trailing a lazy finger over his forehead and down his nose.

  "How much I like being here. How happy it makes me that we met each other halfway tonight. How much I hope we are not setting a trend."

  Paul kissed his nose. "I like you here. My heart almost stopped when I saw you in the Honda tonight. And what's this about a trend?"

  "The drama. That's twice now. Once at Christmas. Today, your birthday . . . Promise me this won't happen again. I'm sort of anxious about my own birthday now."

  "Don't be. I won't let anything but good things happen to you on Tuesday. Then you'll see for sure that any whiffs of trends are broken."

  They embraced and held each other. Other than to shuffle into a horizontal position, they didn't move. They whispered and chuckled together, interspersed with kisses, until Karl finally felt himself begin to drift. Paul's sudden snore snapped him into a sitting position with a chuckle. He watched the guy, his mouth open and twitching every now and then as if conversing with someone in his sleep.

  Karl clambered off the sofa. The idea of carrying the guy to his bedroom was short lived. He might just be able to do it—okay, that was optimistic—but even if he could, it'd wake him. Instead, he grabbed a blanket—the same one Paul had used for him, before—and draped it over him.

  Just as he was about to leave, Paul's arm darted out and grabbed his wrist. "Stay with me," came Paul's mumble.

  Karl complied. "Okay."

  Paul didn't let him go until he was back lying next to him, and before he did, he kissed his burn mark.

  For sleeping on the sofa, it was one of the best sleeps Karl had had. Though he was stiff and sore when he woke. Still, it didn't wipe off any of the smile he felt inside. He ground his palms over his eyes, then opened them. Paul, resting on his elbow, was looking down on him.

  "Morning."

  Karl yawned and stretched. "Mmmm, yeah, morning. What's the time?"

  "Quarter to six."

  Tsk-tsk. What was Paul doing so wide awake? It was Sunday. "We should still be sleeping."

  "Bit hard with the light coming through the windows. We should have shut the curtains."

  Karl lumbered into a sitting position, feet on the floor. "Guess we'd better move so Charlie doesn't see us either, huh."

  Paul grabbed his shoulders and starting massaging. That felt good. He stretched his neck on both sides. Paul's words hit the back of his head. "Well, um, I don't know how this should go with Charlie. I mean, I'm still sort of nervous about him and us."

  Karl went to turn and face him, but Paul tightened his grip on his shoulders, keeping him where he was.
>
  "I mean, I will get used to it, and I don't want to hide it from him anymore, but, yeah still nervous." He chuckled. "But, um, him seeing us sleep side by side that should be all right. Same with the occasional kiss. I don't know, really. What do you think?"

  "I think I'm nervous, too, actually. Those things sound okay, though." This time he did manage to swivel around. "It's not always going to be ideal, though. I think we really both need to talk to Charlie and also, maybe we should talk to other gay couples with kids?"

  Paul rested back on the couch, his gaze on Karl as he spoke, "It's just . . . it might not always be easy for him, either. Like at school, and with his peers . . . " He sighed. "So, yeah, I'm nervous for him, too. I don't want him to be picked on or anything. Don't want him to go through anything—" like you did. But Karl dropped the words. The sentiment remained the same. And shit, he felt protective of the little monkey.

  "That sounds sensible," Paul said, nodding. "Let's look into it more, but first I have to do some talking with my friends and family."

  "When—"

  "Today. I'm going to chat with Gill and Tirone, and then I'm meeting with Sue and Timothy later. Um, would you—"

  "Of course I'll look after Charlie." Karl kissed Paul. "You don't have to ask."

  "All right. I don't think I'll be back until after his bedtime."

  The day was mostly fun with Charlie, but then he'd have sudden gut clenches when he thought about where Paul was and how things were going for him. The need to see him in those moments made the minutes drag like hours.

  Finally, Karl put the monkey to bed, then hunkered down onto the sofa with his Cuisine magazine. He bent three page corners of recipes he'd like try, chuckling as he remembered the last time he'd seen dog-eared pages. That'd turned out one hell of a weekend.

  "What are you giggling away there about?" Paul's voice was so close to his ear, Karl jumped.

  "Shit. You're a stealthy bugger. Did you just get in?"

  Paul straightened out of his crouch. "Yeah." Moving around the sofa, he settled himself next to Karl. "Thanks for taking Charlie for the day."

  "You know I love it."

  Paul smiled.

  "So," Karl started, a little nervous shake in his voice, "how was the talk with Sue and Timothy?"

  Paul sighed. "I've never seen Sue cry before, didn't know it was possible. I felt like shit. And sorry for her." Paul stole Karl's hand, feeling each of his fingers. "I think you were right. It helped when I told her that I do appreciate the love she gives to Charlie." He linked their fingers. "I took your advice and suggested they have two weekends every second month. I also invited them here for Easter. So they know they’re still a part of our family."

  Karl's heart thumped at the words 'our family'.

  "They took us well," Paul continued. "Better than I'd ever have thought. It's more of a relief than I can describe." He squeezed Karl's hand. "I have to say, today has been a big day all around. I'm kaput. When I talked with Tirone and Gillian this afternoon, well, you were right to say she'd be in a good mood. She kept shoving home-baked cookies onto my plate. And, no offense to her, because I know I'm spoiled at home, but her baking's really not that great."

  "Should I offer lessons, you think?"

  Paul grinned. "She's going to be happy for quite a while, I imagine. That means a helluva lot of cookies will be made and given to us. So, I think yes. Lessons would be a very good idea."

  "Consider it done." It'd be fun too, getting to know her more. She really did rock. "I'll ring later this week." Thinking of his schedule reminded Karl of something else coming up. He gave a double squeeze of Paul's hand. "Do you remember I'm having dinner with Will in two weeks?"

  "Um, yes. Haven't forgotten that." Paul heard a scowl in his voice, but his expression remained schooled.

  "Well, you're welcome to join us." Karl shuffled closer. "Not pushing you to come, okay? Just, the offer is there if you want to."

  "Otherwise it's just you and him?" Paul shook his head. "I trust you and all, but I don't know him from a bar of soap, so yeah, I'm coming."

  Karl's smile widened, mirrored by Paul's. "Would you . . . ah," Karl started, "would you wear a suit?" He pressed his hands against the man's chest, then whispered in his ear, "You're so hot in a suit. Reminds me of the first time I laid eyes on you . . . Jeez, even thinking about it," he grabbed Paul's hand and held it to himself.

  Paul hummed, and gripped him lightly through the material.

  "Besides," Karl continued, "I really want to take it off you after. Everything but that tie."

  Paul adjusted himself. "Can I just get into my suit right now?"

  "Guess you're not that kaput, huh?" Karl attacked him with a forceful kiss, pulling him up from the sofa and pushing him down the hall, into his room. Until he was backed up against the closet. With one hand he yanked the door open and pulled a suit out by its hanger. "Let's."

  * * *

  Karl cracked an eye open when Paul slid off the bed. He hadn't felt this excited in years. A birthday was just another day. But not today. He could feel it. Not to mention how they officially started his celebration at midnight.

  The toilet flushed in the background, and the taps turned on. He smiled. Good that he now used this bathroom. Thirty seconds later, Paul jumped back into the bed and straddled him. Karl quickly shut his eyes, feigning sleep.

  "Give it up already, Karl, I know you're up."

  "I'm not."

  "Ha!" Paul came closer. A layer of shadow fell over him. "Well, if you're not awake, birthday boy, I guess I get the privilege . . . "

  Oh yeah, hell, that sounded like a great way to wake up.

  Except it wasn't. At all. Icy water trickled onto his stomach. His eyes jerked open. "Damn that’s cold."

  Paul looked down on him with a grin and a tilted glass aimed right at his ribs. Karl slapped away a thread of water zigzagging down his side and tickling him.

  "So, you're up? Or do I have to . . .?" He motioned toward the glass.

  "Oh no, I'm up." Karl carefully shuffled into a sitting position with Paul still on him, the cup safely held upright. Karl took it, sipped, and rested it on the side table. Softly kissing Paul, he waited until the man relaxed to flip him to the bed and hold him down. Paul stared up at him, startled and amused.

  Until Karl dumped the rest of the water on him, and lunged out of retaliation's reach.

  A single curse whipped out of his mouth. "Cold, so cold. And I don't mean the water!"

  Grinning, Karl made his way to the bathroom. He'd just got into the shower when Paul came in.

  "Jeez, just how hot do you have it in there?"

  Karl rubbed a circle on the steamy door to see Paul waving the steam away. "Wanna come find out?"

  "No thanks, prefer not to be scalded." Paul flipped the toilet seat down and perched on it, studying his hands. Karl had to rub another circle to keep seeing him. Grabbing some body wash, he lathered himself.

  "What's up?"

  The man's head came up, a goofy grin on it. "Um . . . I wanted to ask you something, and I'm just screwing up the courage to do it right."

  Karl hopped under the showerhead to wash off.

  "I like sharing the bathroom with you."

  Okay, where was this going? "Uh-huh, yeah, me too."

  "I'd like to share more than that with you, if you'd like?" Paul shook his head. "Okay, I'd like us to have the same room.”

  Karl switched off the water and let a cloud of steam burst in Paul's direction as he stepped out of the shower. In a jiffy, he had a towel around his waist.

  "I mean," Paul continued, "you can still keep the other one for your studies, as an office or something. But . . . "

  He rested his palms on Paul's thighs and kissed away his next words. "I'd love that. I don't know how I could sleep without your snores anymore."

  Paul slapped his ass for that.

  Chuckling, Karl made into his drawers and pulled out some fresh clothes. "So is that my birthday gift?"
>
  Paul, who'd followed him in, now lay comfy on the bed watching him, arms locked casually behind his head. "Nope. That was all for me. Guess my birthday wish came true."

  "That was what you wished? Thought you said you were going to show me . . .?"

  Paul waggled his brows. "Originally I thought I'd just move all your stuff into my room. But, I don't know, then I thought it'd be nicer for me if I asked and you said yes. I don't want you just feeling obligated to share with me or anything."

  All dressed, Karl stepped to Paul's side and looked down into his gray eyes. Holding out a hand, Paul took it, and Karl pulled him up and into a soft kiss. "How about this," Karl said, "when you get back from work today, I'll have everything moved over?"

  Paul shook his head.

  "Not going to work today. Taken the day off. Don't look so surprised, Karl, you're not the only one who planned something for the big two-eight. First up, Charlie and I are taking you for breakfast. And you might want to grab a sweater."

  Karl pulled out a thick woolen top. "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see." Paul looked him over. Smiled. "Okay, you won't be needing anything, so other than some shoes, you're ready."

  "Uh-huh." Karl reached for his cell and wallet, but Paul pried them out of his hands and laid them back down.

  "I said you won't be needing anything."

  "Damn, I feel naked without my cell on me."

  "Not as naked as I like you."

  Karl poked his tongue out. "Hurry up and wake Charlie. I want my birthday breakfast."

  Paul readied himself and Charlie, and within a half-hour they were shutting the apartment door behind them. In the lift, Charlie kept humming 'happy birthday to you.' Then he giggled, and started singing aloud:

  Happy Birthday to you,

  You're a hundred-and-two,

  You look like a monkey,

  And you act like one too.

  Karl shook his head. That one had been around for years. He squeezed the boy to his side and rubbed his knuckles over his head, messing the fine hair. "I'll give you ten bucks if you can think of your own song. Because we all know the only monkey here is you. Try to make it more about me, 'kay?"