by Quin Perin
Tony
One second, he’d been shouting and telling me to get the fuck out; the next, his hands hit the floor, and he hunched over. I lunged forward. “Dima.” My voice suddenly sounded soft when I dragged him up. He twisted and turned, pressing his hands against my chest to shove me off. Him falling over was my fault. If I’d put the table back where it belonged…I didn’t think it would matter. Fuck. All fight left me at once. I’d been so upset, so fucking angry because he didn’t say what I’d wanted to hear, but like someone had pulled the plug on my anger, I sunk to my knees next to him. I couldn’t be mad when he was like this. Dima kept hitting me, weakly and hardly enough to even make me budge.
“Go away.”
How could I? He hid his face from me, his voice wavering.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered which made him bark out a laugh, still squirming. My hands tightened in his shirt, clasping his shoulders.
“This is why I can’t do relationships. I’m fucking broken!”
I gripped him tighter, his body quivering with rising tears. Seeing him like this, so helpless, made my heart squeeze and ache.
“Shhh, what are you talking about?” Despite the way he pushed against me, I closed my arms around him and eased him against my chest. Dima heaved a couple of breaths that soon turned into sobs.
“This is…’s why he left and why you’ll...leave as well.”
It didn’t make any sense, not to me anyway. I frowned and shifted to sit down, leaning my back against the edge of the damn coffee table. Dima swallowed gulps of air, trying to keep his composure, but it hardly worked.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said against his hair, placing a kiss there with my eyes closed. His body shook and vibrated with every rolling tear. I felt them on my skin, his hot breath puffing out with every hitched exhale.
“You will. You travel. You’ll go.”
Clawing at my sweater, he pulled it down farther, the material stretching. Dima’s sobs were erratic, loud in the space around us.
“I want to stay,” I told him after a few seconds had passed. “I like you, Dima. Why do you think I got that job in the first place?”
Those simple words, they turned him from a sobbing into a whimpering mess.
“You’re lying,” he said on his next long exhale, shoving against me to get out of my grasp. But there was nothing he could do; I wasn’t letting him go. I pulled him onto my lap, his legs across mine so he could curl up against my chest. The crying continued, and the curses came in steady streams, landing against my collarbone.
I didn’t let him go.
I simply held him.
However angry I’d felt before, it didn’t matter now. Like glass, one tiny nick had spread, his facade cracking, then shattering, revealing the truth beneath. I kissed his hair, even while he hit my shoulders, my arms, my chest. We sat there, with him crying into me, tears seeping through my sweater until his will to fight me left him. His fist, the one he’d been pounding against my sternum for the past minute, dropped between us. Soothingly, I rubbed his back, my other hand tending to his wet face, tears dripping off his chin. I wiped them from his jawline, then placed a kiss on his heated forehead.
“Are you done?” I asked on a whisper, exhausted from the day and surely bruised from his relentless hitting. He hadn’t meant to hurt me; he’d lashed out in anger, frustrated and desperate. Dima snorted, his cheeks red and hot against my fingertips. His arms went around my neck, face buried in the crook of my shoulder.
“Take me to bed.”
Carefully, like holding a vase, I placed Dima on the bed and tugged his pajama pants down to his ankles. There was nothing sexual about stripping him like this. Dima was heavy with sleep, his words merely a slur. I helped him out of his shirt too, leaving him in the black briefs I’d come to know quite well. As I turned to place his clothes at the end of the bed, Dima’s hand reached out.
“C’mere.”
After I undressed myself, I joined him.
For a couple of hours, he slept, his small form perfectly nestled against my side, our inhales and exhales now in sync, the strands of his hair tickling my neck. I couldn’t sleep. I hadn’t even closed my eyes. His words kept me awake.
This is…’s why he left.
He meant his ex, the one Jan and Sara had told me about. The guy who had left him in this country, all alone, and blind. Eugene.
Dima stirred under the blankets, his face in the crook of my shoulder. “Dima,” I breathed against his ear, sliding my fingers through his dark strands. His warmth, his scent, it made this feel so right.
“Mh.” He screwed up his nose, moving against the arm I’d draped over him, the other one angled under my head.
“You’re not broken.” Any movement stilled. “I fucked up, okay? I didn’t put the table back, and I went fucking nuts when this...Tim said he knew you...that way.” Dima’s hand met my bare chest, right where my heart thudded at a frantic rhythm.
“Jealous,” he whispered, but I could hear him grin.
“Yeah, ‘cause I like you.” This time, he scoffed and shook his head against me, so I cupped the back of his head and pulled a bit back. Even now, with his hair one shaggy mess and his cheeks laced with dried tears, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. So strong and yet so fragile.
I leaned in and kissed his lips, no tongue, a simple affectionate kiss. Only when nails scratched across my stomach did I release him. I patted his hair down and smiled.
“Give me a chance.” I asked for a lot. I knew that. Especially with his history. And it scared the crap out of me too. What if it didn’t work? What if I drove him crazy? What if I really was just a warm body with...a dick.
“You’re so perfect it scares me,” Dima finally replied, his hand sliding and stroking my chest. I couldn’t help but chuckle. I was far from perfect. Far, far from it.
“I must learn a lot. Like putting your furniture back in place.”
Dima’s grin was bright enough for me to see it in the darkness, his dimples catching the light. Like a moth to the flame, I was drawn in, pressing our lips together again.
TWENTY-NINE
Dima
Clink!
The sound of a coffee mug being set down woke me up. I didn’t know the time. Morning or night? Didn’t matter. My head was groggy, a dull ache behind my eyes. Sore throat and all, I felt like a mess, probably looked like one too. It had been a while since I’d had a breakdown like that.
The bed dipped, covers pulling down and then up. Tony’s body was warm next to mine, and he yawned.
“Made you coffee,” he murmured. “Should be the way you like it.”
Sliding my hand to the nightstand, I tapped my way to the handle of the mug. I dipped my finger into the top to gauge how full it was. A smile twitched at my lips. Perfect. Low enough to grab it and not worry about spilling. Lifting it to my mouth, I propped myself up and took a careful sip. Slightly too sweet but still perfect since I didn’t have to make it. “What time is it?” I asked, holding the mug to my chest.
“Little after nine,” Tony said. “Just woke up half an hour ago.”
I sighed. “I’m late for work. Again.” Jan was going to fire me if I kept missing.
Tony slurped his own coffee—I imagined—and leaned against me. “Nah. He called earlier. You didn’t wake.”
“He did?”
“Mhm. And I answered. Let him know it was a tough night.”
Understatement.
“Was he upset?” I wasn’t being a very good employee, considering how nice he’d always been to me. It felt like I was taking advantage of his kindness.
“Nope. Threatened to kick my ass if it was my fault.” Tony chuckled. “Which it kind of was, but I didn’t tell him.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t,” I said. “It was all me. I’m the one who freaked out.”
Tony was silent for a moment; I dropped my head back against the headboard. I’d ruined everything between us. Now he knew the mess I rea
lly was.
“I don’t blame you,” he said. “You lashed out, but I understand where you’re coming from. Your ex...sounds like a right bastard.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Are you my shrink now or something?”
“Hm. I can be anything you want.” He brushed a kiss to my hair, and I smiled. “I like listening to you.”
Now I felt like crying all over again. I hadn’t wanted to confide in anyone about Eugene. Not since he’d left. Hurt too much. But with Tony, I wanted to. I wanted to tell him everything. “We met online,” I finally whispered. “My ex and me. He was a photographer, and he saw some of my pictures, ones I’d taken, ones I’d modeled for, nothing serious, and he messaged me. Wanted me to model for him. Said I was his muse.”
Tony reached over and set his mug on the nightstand, grabbing mine from me and doing the same. His arm went around me, and he shifted up against the headboard. My head plopped to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. I closed my eyes as he tugged the blankets up carefully. “Did he take the pictures of you in the living room?” Tony asked against my hair.
I nodded and nuzzled into his fuzzy chest. “He did. Paid for a ticket and flew me out here. It was...fun. I’d convinced myself I was going to do it all. A model who was fawned over and draped across beautiful things in pretty outfits. And then be a photographer and waltz off to fancy places to take gorgeous pictures. My teacher said I had an eye for it.” I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that shot from me. What an ironic fucking statement. I’d nearly had a breakdown when he said it to me once after I’d been diagnosed. It wasn’t his fault. I hadn’t told anyone my sight was leaving me, but it still stung so deep.
“You could still be a model.” Tony squeezed my side. “You’re beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you pose for them.”
I shook my head. “I thought about it. Don’t need to see to have people take pictures of you, right?” I sighed. “I couldn’t though. Starting out, no one would want me. I’d need so much guidance. They’d have to help out too much, and I wouldn’t be worth it since I’m unknown.”
“And you’d have to leave this town,” Tony added quietly.
“I would,” I agreed. “And I can’t do that. I just...can’t. Not by myself. This is the only place I know. I’ve memorized every inch of this place. Anywhere else...” I couldn’t do it.
“You’d be lost.”
Tony’s voice was a sympathetic whisper, his lips pressing to my temple. He was right. Anywhere else I’d have to use my cane, rely too much on other people. Here I could pretend nothing had changed. That I didn’t rely on anyone.
“What...what was it like?”
It was a vague statement, but I knew what Tony meant. “I...it was…” I struggled to form words.
“You don’t have to,” Tony assured me. “You really don’t.”
Patting his chest, I cocked my head back to face him. “I don’t mind,” I whispered. His lips went to my chin, and I smiled. “It was terrifying. I felt so helpless. It was gradual at first. My eyes were a little messed up. I wore glasses. And then it got worse and worse. The doctors tell you what’s happening, but you don’t think they’re telling the truth. That it’s going to get better. Eugene was so sweet to me at first. He said all these things about how he didn’t care. That it would be fine. He’d never leave. Then, like, three months later, I ran into something, kind of like last night. And he broke down. Said I was too much work and he’d been thinking about leaving me for a while.”
Tony took a sharp breath at that, and his fingers tightened on me. As if he was trying to protect me from the past. “Jesus, Dima...I’m so sorry…”
My throat clenched, and I tried to squish my eyes shut enough that the tears didn’t fall. “All my dreams had been crushed. I had nothing but my job at the café, and then he left me alone in the darkness. After that, I told myself I would never let anyone else in like that,” I whispered. “And now…”
Hiding my face away, I let out a shaky sigh. I thought I’d used up all my tears before, but now they fell again, splashing hot against Tony’s skin. Both of his arms went around me, and he squeezed all the air out of my lungs.
“I would never, ever do that.”
All my nerves were exposed, so raw and vulnerable. Perhaps he told the truth, but then, how could I believe him? My head said no, and my heart screamed yes. It was terrifying. To do it all over again. To allow someone to touch my heart and hope he wouldn’t destroy the pieces that were left of it.
Tony
Thoroughly exhausted, I held Dima and rocked him back to sleep. That’s when—despite my morning coffee—my eyelids grew heavy until I couldn’t fight it anymore. It felt right to have him against me, to protect him from the world. I didn’t know how long I slept for until a shrill sound made me snap open my eyes. It wasn’t his phone, nor was it mine.
Dima curled up more against me, his lips slightly parted, eyelashes fluttering ever so softly. I peeled myself off of him when the same noise cut through the silence again. Now my brain was catching up. Doorbell. I stumbled out of the room, fetching my jeans on the way out. I found the buzzer and pushed, letting whoever it was up. Still drowsy with sleep, I pulled the door open and waited. After a couple of seconds, a delivery woman appeared in front of me. She grinned, obviously trying to hold in a chuckle. Jeans, no shirt, and my hair was probably one huge mess. I probably looked like an escaped mental patient or something.
I blinked when she held out a package to me.
“Please sign here,” she said and tapped on her electronic device. I signed, smiling sleepily. The package was small, no label, a brown carton with Dima’s address on it. Before she left, she gave me another amused grin and then bounded down the stairs. I looked down at the package in my hand and retreated back inside. When I turned around and pushed the door shut, Dima stood in the door frame to his bedroom, hands on either side of the frame and shoulders slumping faintly. As if he was ready to fall asleep right there.
Bed hair, the light scruff on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes didn’t make him any less breath-taking.
“Who was it?” he mumbled and dropped against one side of the frame, arms around his bare chest.
I placed the package on the coffee table and approached him, cradling his face.
“Just a package for you,” I said and bent to kiss the tip of his nose. He tensed, his eyes opening. I swear he stared up at me, although that wasn’t possible. Dima stirred, trying to get away, color spreading on his cheeks. Well, now I was curious. “What is it?”
“Uh, nothing,” Dima answered and squirmed away, carefully stepping back toward the bed. “I’m hungry.” He lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, one leg going up, his other foot still on the floor.
“Tell you what, I’m gonna make us lunch if you tell me what’s in the package.”
“No,” he replied a little too quickly, shifting in his spot. I frowned. He acted like it was a box full of drugs.
“Dima.”
He sighed loudly, plucking at the blanket at his knee. The bed looked like an unruly day at sea, white pillows and blankets tangling on the bright blue sheets.
“Alright, you don’t have to show me.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he whined, flopping down onto the bed, arms spread.
Oh. The corners of my lips curled up at the prospect. A surprise? For me? I glanced back at the package on the table and then headed over to fetch it. I examined it on my way over to him and sat down on the bed. Dima reached out, his fingers finding my shoulder.
“Can I open it?” His brow creased at my question, but he didn’t tell me no. All right then. As I tore the package apart, Dima pulled his knees up and settled onto his side, his head resting on my thigh. The sound of carton and plastic ripping echoed through the bedroom until I extracted a small, satin bag from the package. It was pretty light with something soft inside.
Dima scratched at my jean-clad knee as I untied the little strings and tipped
the bag slightly, waiting for the contents to tumble out. A long, fluffy black tail emerged and immediately, my body temperature spiked. Oh, fuck. It fell onto my palm, so soft and light, a plug attached to the end, weighing it down. The plug was round, thinner at the tip and widening to a decent girth at the end. Bigger than the one I’d seen him use. I swallowed thickly, brushing my fingers along the tail. I’d never seen, let alone touched something like this before.
“Dima…it’s perfect,” I whispered, my arousal awakening the longer I pictured him with it. Bending over, ready for me. He kept scratching my knee idly. Then he purred. “Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me.” Briefly, I wondered how he’d ordered it, but then again, he managed to do a lot of things without my help. I placed the tail on my lap, pushing the package and satin bag aside.
Dima rolled his head against my stomach, nudging the tail with his nose. “It’s soft, black, and shiny,” I told him, stroking his hair. It must have cost a good bit, considering how high quality it looked. “You’ll look very pretty with it.” That made him purr again, contentment in his tone, a soft smile on his lips. “I can’t believe you did this.” I laughed, sliding my fingers across the furry object. My eyes flicked back to the plug at the end. My God, he needed some serious prep for that.
“Did you choose it?”
Dima meowed, rubbing his cheek against the hard ridge in my jeans. My cock pulsed when Dima’s attention shifted to the boner I’d been sporting. I couldn’t wait to see him with the tail sticking from between his ass cheeks, but not now. He was too tired, too hungry, too vulnerable to go down that road. Sometimes using sex as a distraction wasn’t the best idea.