by Marie Sexton
Angelo shook his head, and I said, “What?”
Angelo turned red, but Jared said, “Tell him. It’s a good idea.”
He turned toward me, took a deep breath, and started talking.
“I was thinkin’, it’s not just movie rentals they’re missin’ here.
There’s also no theater. And there’s plenty of room. You could rent the movies in the front, and you could set up a theater in the back.
Not like a regular theater, but one of those new kinds, where people sit at tables and you serve wine and shit. You could show old movies. Like some nights you could do a date night, and you could show those stupid John Hughes movies you like so much. You could find a caterer to work with and serve dinner. And other nights you could go for the teens and show old slasher flicks, like Nightmare on Elm Street. You could host an after-prom party and show Carrie.
And Jared said how the English teacher gives a list of movies sometimes, and the kids get extra credit if they watch the movie and write a report or somethin’. So, you could get that list and show those too. There’s probably licensing shit to show movies like that, and you’d need licenses for the food and liquor too. But I bet you could make more money doin’ that and rentin’ the videos. There’s not much for teenagers to do here. I bet they’d dig it.” He stopped short. I realized I had never heard him say so much at one time. His cheeks were red, but he was looking right at me. “What do you think?”
And I could see exactly what he was talking about. I could picture it.
“Are you serious? That’s brilliant! Why didn’t you say something?”
“I did!”
“I even heard about it already,” Matt said to me. “Where were you?”
I remembered a drop of white paint rolling down Angelo’s stomach. “I guess I was distracted.”
Matt and Jared invited us back to their house after dinner, and
I was pleased when Angelo immediately declined. He talked about the theater idea all the way back to our motel. “You could do a family night too,” he was saying as I unlocked the door to our room.
“There’s that space out back. Did you see it? You could put in some playground equipment and hire somebody to supervise so the adults could watch a movie while their kids play.” He sat down on the bed and started taking off his boots and socks. “I don’t know ’bout stuff like lawsuits, though. You have to cover your ass, ’cause of, you know—what’s that legal word?”
“Liability?”
“Yeah, liability. You might need waivers or somethin’.” He stood up and pulled his shirt off. “That would suck. You know some kid would fall too. Never mind, man. That was a bad idea,” he laughed.
I was still standing, leaning against the door, just watching him. He stepped up close to me and looked up at me through his bangs. I brushed the hair out of his eyes, traced his lips with my finger. “I hope you’re not still mad at me.”
He smiled up at me. “Think I’m over it.” He reached into his pants pocket, took something out and pressed it into my hand. It was a travel size bottle of massage oil.
I looked at him in surprise. “Have you been carrying this around all weekend?”
“I got it tonight.”
“Where?”
“From Jared.”
I suddenly remembered them going into the bedroom together and groaned in embarrassment. “Oh God! You asked Jared for lube?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“It just seems weird.”
He shook his head at me and smiled. “When we first met, I thought you were an uptight prep.”
“And now?”
“Now I know you’re an uptight prep.” He pressed closer.
“Cute, though.”
“I thought you were a punk.”
“And now?”
“I think you’re amazing.”
“Zach?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
The urgency I had felt earlier in the day had faded. It had been replaced by something much more tender. I was glad he had made me wait. I kissed him and loved the way his mouth opened up so eagerly under mine.
We slowly undressed, kissing and exploring as we went, and then he pulled me to the bed. I was trying to touch him everywhere at once, and he was clutching me, urging me on top of him and then into him. I had never felt anything like what I felt for him at that moment—somehow urgent and wild but tender at the same time.
He was so thin, I felt like I might break him. And yet, he was so strong. His legs were wrapped around my waist, tight, and the muscles in his thin arms were like ropes as he gripped me. His head was thrown back, his neck long and beautiful and begging to be kissed. Looking down at him, I saw ribs and hipbones and a perfectly flat stomach. But he didn’t feel hard or boney. He felt supple and lean and powerful.
He was fierce and passionate and almost feral. Sometimes I felt like I could barely hang onto him—like I was trying to hold raw energy in my hands. But at the same time, he was almost completely silent, even when I pushed into him. I couldn’t help but think of Tom, who always sounded like a sound bite from a porno. Angelo could not have been more different. Other than his breathing, he barely made a sound. Maybe a gasp or a soft whimper, but nothing more. Yet I knew by the way he clutched at me and arched against me that his silence wasn’t due to lack of pleasure.
I couldn’t get enough of just touching him. I loved the way his ribs felt under my fingers, the way I could feel his shoulder blades when my arms were around him, and the way the pulse in his neck pounded against my tongue. He was some rare, exotic creature who had magically landed in my life. I hoped like hell he wouldn’t decide to fly back out of it.
Afterward he lay limp and drowsy in my arms. His eyes were half-closed and his cheeks flushed, and his lips were red and puffy.
He was so gorgeous; I thought my heart would break just looking at him.
“Ang, please tell me you’re not leaving.”
“Where you think I’m gonna go? It’s the middle of the night.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“No.”
“No, you don’t know that’s not what I mean?”
“No.” He smiled at me. “I’m not leavin’.”
I held him tight until he fell asleep draped across my chest. I wondered if this was what love felt like.
…Angelo
I WAKE up early. We moved apart durin’ the night—as far apart as we can be without one of us fallin’ on the floor. Guess neither of us is used to sharin’ a bed.
It’s been more than four years since I woke up in bed with somebody. Even then, the only reason I didn’t leave before mornin’ was ’cause I was too fucked up to get home. This is the first time I intentionally stuck ’round to see what would happen the next mornin’. I’m tryin’ not to be nervous.
I’m a little sore from last night. Been more than four years since I let a guy fuck me too. Forgot about how it feels the next day—that soft, quiet pain that reminds you all day of what you did the night before. I don’t regret it, though.
What happened last night was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Even back when I let guys top me on a regular basis, I never felt anything like what I felt with Zach. Like our souls were touchin’. It was beautiful and amazin’ and scary as hell. Wonder if it will feel like that every time with him.
I know Zach thinks he loves me. I know he’s gonna say it too.
It’s too much to hope that I’ll be able to say it back. I’m just hopin’ I can play it cool and not freak right the fuck out.
Nobody’s ever loved me before. I mean I like to think my mom did at some point. But obviously not enough to stick around.
And some of my foster mothers told me they loved me, but never enough to keep me, or to stay in touch once I got moved again. I’ve had other friends I ended up in bed with too. Not friends like Zach, though. I always took off before they could get any ideas of things gettin’ serious. I
never cared for any of them the way I care for him.
Still, even now, there’s a tiny voice in my head tellin’ me to get the fuck out before he wakes up. That voice is tellin’ me that the closer I let him get, the more it’s gonna hurt in the end. I’m tryin’ not to listen. I’ve wanted him for so long. This is the real thing. If I can’t face it, I’ll regret it. Can’t quite make the voice go away, though.
I hear him stirrin’. Can’t even turn around and face him. He moves up behind me and wraps his arms around me. He kisses the back of my neck. “Everything okay?” he asks quietly.
Just the sound of his voice makes me smile. Just like that I can’t remember what I was worried about a few minutes before.
“Yes.”
“Good.” And I know he’s smilin’ too. His hand is movin’ over my side, across my stomach. I can feel him growin’ hard, and the same thing’s happenin’ to me. “Can we stay here all day?”
I laugh. “You tell me.”
He groans a little. “Probably not.”
“Better stop now then,” I say teasingly, and he laughs.
“You’re right.” He kisses my neck one more time, then starts to get up. “I’m gonna take a shower….” He lets it trail away, and I know it’s an invitation.
“You go ahead.”
“Okay.” If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t let it show.
He goes into the bathroom, and I stretch out on my back, takin’ up as much of the bed as I can. I drift back to sleep.
I wake up to hands on my hips and lips on my stomach. Zach’s hair is still wet, and cold drops fall on my skin. He’s lyin’ between my legs, and his tongue is movin’ over the tattoo on my stomach.
I’m immediately painfully hard.
“You’re awake,” he says quietly and moves lower. My breath catches. My hips arch up toward him. He’s already anticipated me, and before I expect it, I’m pushin’ through his lips, feelin’ his tongue movin’ around my head.
I grab his hair before I even know what I’m doin’. I feel bad about it right away, though. Know how much I hate it when guys do it to me. “Is this okay?” I manage to ask.
He stops and looks up at me in surprise, and I wish I kept my mouth shut. He smiles. “Of course.” He puts his tongue on the bottom of my shaft, licks all the way up to the top. “Is this okay?”
Can’t believe he’s teasin’ me. I clench my fingers in his hair.
“Zach, please….”
“What?”
I push his head back down. Not too hard. Not to be mean. Push just a little and say, “More, Zach.”
He smiles at me. “Anything you want.” His mouth closes over me again.
Seems like everything’s more intense with him. The water drippin’ onto my stomach is cold enough to give me goose bumps, but his mouth is so warm. He spends a lot of time circlin’ my ridge with his tongue, teasin’ that soft spot below my slit. Sucks hard but only on the head. Pressure builds and builds, and I have to push deeper, but when I try, his hands hold my hips to the bed. I try to push his head, but he won’t let me. Just teases ’round the top, over and over, ’til I cry out, “Zach!” Actually feel him smile then, and the pressure on my hips is suddenly gone. I thrust up. I push his head down. That sudden warmth slidin’ down my length is overwhelmin’.
Like a damn breakin’. Orgasm hits me so hard, I almost cry out. Bite down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. Pull his hair so hard, I think it’s gonna come out in my hands. He just pulls me in deeper, holds my hips so I can’t pull away. That beautiful agony tears through me, out of me, into him, and still he holds me there, until all that’s left is the shakin’, and I’m tryin’ to catch my breath.
When I open my eyes again, he’s smilin’ down at me. He kisses me, licks my swollen lip. “You can pull my hair anytime, Ang.”
He starts to get up then, and I grab his arm. “Zach, I should—”
“There’s no ‘should’, Ang.” He smiles at me but pulls away, goes to his bag, and starts diggin’ for clothes. “We’ll have time later.
We need to get going. We’re already late.”
Never been with anyone who would give and not want somethin’ back. Makes me want to do somethin’ for him even more.
But he’s right. Matt will be waitin’ for us. I sit up and watch him as he gets dressed. “What’s the plan today?”
“We can finish painting, and then we need to find a place to live.”
I feel panic flutterin’ in my chest, like a bird tryin’ to break free. “A place to live?” I ask stupidly.
“We can’t stay in this motel forever. There’s a house for rent up by Matt and Jared, and I saw another one in Lizzy’s neighborhood, but we probably can’t afford that. Or Jared said there are apartments up the hill. Or those ones across the street, but they look pretty small.”
He’s plannin’ on livin’ together? That voice in my head is suddenly yellin’ for me to run hard and fast. The bird in my chest is thrashin’ like crazy. Panic buildin’ so fast I think I might choke on it. It’s hard to breathe.
“Ang?” I open my eyes to find him lookin’ down at me. “Are you coming? We have to go.”
“Right.” I take a deep breath, fight back the panic. By the time I’m dressed, I’ve almost forgotten the whole incident.
Almost. But not quite.
Zach…
I COULD tell something was bothering Angelo when we left the motel. We were in my car headed for the store when I finally asked,
“What’s wrong, Ang?”
“Nothin’.” But he wasn’t looking at me when he said it.
“You can tell me, you know.”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout.”
“Okay.” I didn’t believe him. I could tell by the set of his shoulders and the fact that he wouldn’t meet my eyes that something was wrong. I was worried that he was already having regrets about the night before.
Once we were at the store and painting, he relaxed again, but only because Matt was there. He was barely speaking to me, and I was getting more worried by the minute. Two hours later I had just finished painting the small office in back when he came in.
“Think we’re done. Told Matt he didn’t have to stay.”
“Good. We can grab some lunch, and then maybe start looking for a place to live.” He still wasn’t looking at me. We stood there for a minute, me looking at him and him looking everywhere but back. I stepped closer. “Ang?”
“Yeah?”
“Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothin’ wrong.”
“I think you’re lying.” He just shrugged. I sighed and said, “Angelo, look at me!” He did, but his eyes were wary. “Talk to me.”
He shrunk in on himself a little bit. “It’s not ’bout you, Zach.”
“It feels like it’s about me.”
“No!” He said it with such ferocity, and it made me feel a little better.
I stepped closer. I slowly reached out and hooked one of my fingers in his belt loop. He didn’t resist as I pulled him closer. I took his face in my hands, brushed the hair out of his eyes so I could look into them. “Do you regret what happened last night?”
“No!” He grabbed me and pulled my head down to kiss me insistently. When he pulled away, his eyes met mine without flinching. “Don’t regret any of it.”
“Are you sure?”
He actually smiled then, his lopsided smirk. “Take me back to the motel. I’ll show you how much I don’t regret it.”
Who am I to argue with a request like that? I smiled back at him. “Okay.”
…Angelo
WE COME back to the room. Tear each other’s clothes off and get back in bed, laughin’ like kids. Zach acts like we have all the time in the world.
Guess maybe we do.
Been with a lot of guys over the years, but never like this.
Always just guys I picked up. It was quick and impersonal, and that was the way I liked it. Bein’ with Zach’s c
ompletely different. He doesn’t hurry. Doesn’t go right for the prize. This time seems like he just plans to just touch me and kiss me, feel our cocks rubbin’ between us, all the way to the end. I keep expectin’ him to want more, but he never does. I actually start to worry maybe he’s not into it.
“You don’t want me?” I finally ask.
He laughs a little, squeezes me tight and grinds himself harder against me. “Jesus, Ang,” he whispers. “How can you possibly think that I don’t want you right now?”
It’s certainly true he’s been hard the whole time, and it sounds like he’s enjoyin’ himself.
“This all you want?” I ask.
“Yes.” He’s kissin’ my neck, and his hands are everywhere at once, and God, it feels so good. How’d I get through life this long without anybody touchin’ me like this? “I’ll do anything you want, Ang. Just name it, and it’s yours. But, for me,” he says quietly, his arms tightenin’ around me, “yes. This is all I want. You’re everything I want.”
Wish I could tell him then how much I love him. Wish I could open my heart and just let him see. But I don’t know how. Instead I wrap my arms ’round him and surrender myself to him completely. I want him to own very inch of me. I’m amazed how natural it feels to let go like that and let him take the lead. With other guys I always had to be in control. But not with him. I trust him so much. It’s a new feelin’ for me. Think I like it.
He kisses me everywhere, movin’ over my whole body. He has me lay on my stomach. He kisses my shoulders and my back and all the way down my spine. He even kisses behind my knees. Then he rolls me over and slowly moves back up. He kisses up my thighs, over my hips, and all around my patch of hair. I can’t believe what it does to me—the way the passion inside me just builds and builds.
“I love your skin,” he whispers as he’s kissin’ my stomach, and I have to laugh.
“Pretty sure nobody’s ever said that to me.”
“It’s true. I love the color. I love how soft it is. I even love the way it tastes.”