by Cy Blanca
“You’re damn right, sir. Jesus.”
“Come on, Ant. Don’t worry so much.” Curt sat beside him, throwing an arm over his shoulders and rubbing the stiffness there. All that packing must’ve left tension coiled in Antony’s limbs. “We’ll be long gone from here before anybody even notices this. Fox is smarter than you give him credit for. This is just the mockup of what’s gonna be published tomorrow morning. He wanted you to see it before it hit the newsstands.”
Antony released a heavy breath. “Christ sakes, Ram. You could’ve told me that before you showed it to me. I almost had a heart attack.”
Curt laughed. “Just keeping you on your toes, nene.”
“You aren’t funny, lover. Keep doing that shit and I swear I’ll punch you in the face so hard, your Taíno ancestors will get a toothache.”
“Oh,” Curt said, nuzzling Antony’s neck. “You know I like it rough.”
“Nuh-uh, none of that. I’ve got to finish packing before we head out tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, nene. We’ve been at it all day. Let’s take a little break.”
“You can take a little break. I want this stuff packed ASAP so we can skip town as quickly as possible. I don’t want to wake up to another rock thrown through the window.”
Curt eased up, the cold reality of their situation draining his libido as quickly as Antony’s halfhearted threat had made it flare up. “Okay, you win.”
“Don’t I always?” Antony leaned in and gave Curt a quick peck in consolation. Then another, and another. And just that quickly, he’d grown addicted to the little nibbles of Curt’s lips and found it hard to stop. When he finally did, he looked into his eyes. “Well, maybe just a short break.”
“THANK YOU,” Antony said, his voice soft.
“For what?” Curt stroked Antony’s back, fingers playing down his spine like a saxophonist tuning for a night of blues and whiskey.
“For being here. For being mine.”
Curt chuckled, then kissed Antony’s shoulder. “No place I’d rather be, baby. No one I’d rather be with.” He peppered more kisses across Antony’s shoulder, then to his neck and on his face.
Antony hummed, then looked up. He caught a peek out the window in the living room and had to laugh.
“What?” Curt asked, kissing from Antony’s forehead down to his nose, then taking another sip of his lips. “What’s funny?”
“The sun’s out,” he said, reaching for more of Curt’s kisses. “We slept through the night.”
“I don’t remember there being a lot of sleeping, nene.”
“Hmm. Well, now we’ve got to do an assload of packing before we can hit the road.”
“We’ll get it done, Ant,” Curt said, snuggling deeper into the pillows and Antony’s warmth.
“But not now. Now I want you to hold me.”
“Not afraid of the torches and pitchforks anymore?”
“Fuck ’em.” Antony hugged Curt tighter to him and closed his eyes.
Epilogue
Three weeks later
“SO?” CURT asked.
“So?” Antony responded but didn’t look up from the box he was unpacking in their bedroom. They still had a few more things to sort through, but they’d made their apartment a home and were getting used to their new surroundings with relative ease.
“How ’bout it?”
“How ’bout what?”
Curt just stared at Antony.
Antony looked up at Curt and laughed.
Curt scoffed with incredulity. “So can I take that as a yes?”
“You have to ask me first, Ram. There’s a protocol.”
“Protocol, huh?”
“Of course. You ask—you get an answer.”
Curt sighed, then shook his head. “Fine. Will you marry me?”
Antony stopped sifting through the box, then made a show of thinking.
Curt raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Listen,” Antony finally said, “I said you got an answer. I never said you’d get one right away.” Another smirk crept across Antony’s face.
“You little gamberro!” Curt leaped across the bed and tackled Antony, digging his fingers into his sensitive sides.
Antony was laughing so hard, tears started streaming down his face. “Ram! Ram, stop. Please!”
“Not until you give me an answer!” Curt said, delivering another pinch to Antony’s heated skin.
“Can’t… give… can’t answer… if can’t… can’t… breathe! Asshole!”
Curt finally let up. “Well?”
Antony took in deep breaths to bring air back into his lungs. After a final heavy sigh, he brought his hand up to his brow to wipe off the beads of moisture that had developed from their tussle.
“What was the question again?”
“Dammit, Antony James. It’s not funny anymore. Will you or won’t you marry me?”
“Of course I’ll marry you! What kind of question is that?”
Curt blinked rapidly. “Wait… what?”
“I figured that much was obvious. Shit. Judging by that pulsating vein in your forehead, I thought whatever it was would be more pressing. Honestly, Ram. Silly question.”
“Silly? You think me asking you to marry me is silly?”
“You should know by now, I could never say no to the most important person in my life. I love you more than anything, Ram. So asking me is just a waste of your mouth’s talent.”
Curt stared at Antony. “Coño,” he said. “You drive me so damn crazy, nene.”
“I try.”
“Come here.” He grabbed Antony and kissed him.
When they pulled apart, Antony said, “I love you so much, Curtis Ramírez. It would mean everything to me to be your husband.”
“Yeah?”
Antony left a moist kiss on Curt’s lips. “Yeah.”
CY BLANCA has enjoyed words since she was in elementary school. They hold magic powers for her, and she loves playing with them to see just what they can do. She got her degree in English poetry, but she’s been doing mostly editorial work for online magazines YAM Magazine, Rock ’N Seoul, and SeoulBeats (yeah… she loves Korean music and gets to interview folks and write about it). She’s exceptionally blessed to actually be able to do exactly what she went to school for, and fiction is a new avenue she’s trying to explore. Hopefully she can make some magic happen with the words she’s been in love with since she was in elementary school.
She’d love to hear from people who want to know a bit more about her, or just want to become homies.
You can reach her on Twitter: @madcywhite
You can also reach her on Instagram: @mindless_cy
(For K-pop related fangirling, venture over to @mindlesscy if you dare.)
By Cy Blanca
A Teacher and a Poet
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
Published by
DREAMSPINNER PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
www.dreamspinnerpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Teacher and a Poet
© 2017 Cy Blanca.
Cover Art
© 2017 Brooke Albrecht.
http://brookealbrechtstudio.com
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any m
eans, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63533-339-8
Published March 2017
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America