Seth was glad she was working for Dom in Buenos Aires at the moment, because her presence never stopped giving him the creeps.
Before starting his work, Seth put on the T-shirt Domenico had gotten him as a joke some time ago, with Trophy Husband printed above a simple trophy. It would make the perfect outfit for their wedding anniversary. As soon as delicious scents filled the kitchen, Seth forgot all about being in Colombia and imagined this being their little slice of heaven somewhere on the outskirts of Palermo, or even back in their hometown. One could always dream.
He glanced toward the staircase when his ears picked up the sound of footsteps. Relaxed and rather loud, they were Mark’s, and Seth quickly turned toward the coffee machine to switch it on.
Mark was already dressed in his usual jeans and a linen shirt, which he’d taken to wearing soon after they’d settled into their new life in El Encanto. With each passing week, he reminded Seth more of Domenico, looking far too serious for his twenty years of age, and yet there was no point in voicing that observation, since Mark idolized everything Dom did. He was even growing out his hair, despite its texture being nothing like Domenico’s.
“What’s for breakfast?” he asked, lazily stepping into the kitchen and stretching his long body. In the past two years he’d transformed from a boy into a young man with a lean figure and tight muscles. He and Seth still trained together sometimes, but more often than not Mark was ‘busy’. Whatever that meant.
“I’m making croissants stuffed with scrambled eggs and chives, with some crispy bacon on the side.” Seth had long parted from Italian breakfast traditions, more in favor of coming up with his own combinations, half influenced by his time in New York, half by the recipes his mother had left him. On the days when he had no one to cook for, though, he’d still opt for a coffee and a brioche.
Mark made a fist pump with a childlike smile. It was in moments like these that his personality shone through the ‘professional’ face he put on around strangers. As if the silly, talkative teenager Seth and Domenico had picked up years ago was still in there somewhere, even if unwilling to come out often.
“Will you take a few photos for me when it’s all set up?” Seth could take some with his phone, or a digital camera, but Mark’s pictures always came out so much classier. The boy had an eye for catching the world around him, even if he didn’t dedicate that much time to this hobby anymore.
Mark looked up, taking an espresso cup from the cupboard. “Oh… I have lots of work to do. Maybe another time?”
Seth’s mood deflated slightly, but he nodded. Food couldn’t wait for ‘another time’. It would be ready today. ‘Another time’ would mean a different meal, but he couldn’t exactly grill Mark about it if Mark said he had ‘work’ to do. Seth would take some photos himself anyway. Wouldn’t be the first time or the last.
Since Domenico had insisted Seth didn’t have access to the internet for security reasons, he’d been toying with writing about food in the form of a blog offline. He couldn’t share it with anyone, but at least he had a log of ideas and recipes.
“Busy day ahead?” Seth asked as he broke egg after egg into a large bowl.
“It will be,” Domenico said, descending the stairs with the grace of a cat. Dressed almost identically to Mark, he was gorgeous with his sleek hair falling down his shoulders, all the way to the middle of his back. “But don’t worry, we have it all under control.”
Mark nodded, sipping his coffee while he started making another one for Domenico.
Seth smiled at Domenico from behind the counter. Years after they’d met, he still couldn’t get over Domenico’s charm and beauty. And today was special—their second wedding anniversary, which he intended to celebrate with his face buried deep in the long fresh-scented locks of hair. “You will be back for dinner, right?”
Mark snorted, taking a seat by the marble counter. “Depends what’s for dinner.”
“I wasn’t asking you.” Seth pulled Dom closer for a kiss, hoping he could broach the crossbow subject again now that Domenico was awake.
Domenico smiled at him and pressed his mint-scented lips to Seth’s. “Of course. I’ll be back early,” he said and accepted the espresso from Mark.
Seth grinned, wondering what Domenico had come up with for their anniversary, even though he’d be perfectly happy to have dinner together, with no interruptions, a dip in the pool maybe, and a long hard fuck or two to conclude the day. They lived together, they slept in one bed each night, but with obligations mounting on Domenico’s shoulders, it seemed like there was never enough time for them to just be together.
“The thing I wanted. When can I order?” Seth asked.
“New kitchen appliances? An olive tree?” Mark smirked behind the cup of coffee. His voice was innocent enough, but Seth knew his meaning. Big bad Mark now carried a gun, and worked as Domenico’s right-hand man, so he thought he had the right to mock Seth’s interests. He hadn’t been complaining when he’d gotten to eat the cake made with lemons from their garden.
“No. If you need to know, I’ll be buying a crossbow.”
Domenico frowned at him, looking confused as if he remembered nothing of their conversation a couple of hours back. “What the hell would you need a crossbow for?”
Seth groaned. “I want to learn to shoot one. It will come in handy when hunting.”
Mark laughed out loud. “Hunting? You barely leave the house.”
Domenico grabbed a few grapes off the bunch kept in the basket in the middle of the table and scowled at Seth, as if it was the sweetness of the fruit that offended him. “What’s up with you and hunting? We’re not in Europe. I don’t want you to end up as jaguar bait.”
Seth opened his lips, but Mark spoke first, with the stupid grin still on his face, wavy longish hair falling over his eyes. “I know what this is about! You’ve been bingeing that zombie series. You wanna be like Daryl.”
Seth rolled his eyes. “It’s just what made me think about this in the first place, but it’s a good idea. I wouldn’t be going off to the jungle before I learn to shoot it anyway. I was thinking of setting up a target in the garden.”
Domenico sat by the table with a low sigh and massaged his eyes. “Are you already bored of soap making?”
Seth poured the egg mixture into butter sizzling in the pan. “Yeah. You can always wash in a stream or something if the world crumbled, but it’s much harder to hunt with your bare hands.”
Mark helped himself to some grapes as well. “True. It takes effort to wrestle an alligator.”
Of course. One misstep, and he was always remembered as a failure, with Domenico cast as the hero in all of Mark’s stories. “You do know I pulled you away from all those teeth, right?” Seth raised his eyebrows and pulled on the gator tooth hanging from his neck. It had been a gift from Mark when he was still a grateful kid. At least the reminder shut up that impertinent mouth.
Domenico shook his head at Mark before leaning back in the chair to watch Seth by the stove. “It’s really unlikely that you’ll ever need to hunt for food in the jungle. If you absolutely need to learn some survival tactics, how about producing electricity or filtering water? There really aren’t any reasons for you to walk around with a weapon.”
Seth put the halved croissants into the oven to warm them up. “Mark does. And I will learn that other stuff too. I want to be self-sufficient.”
Mark snorted, and the sound boosted Seth’s cortisol levels so high all that remained in Seth’s head was the need to slap the ungrateful brat.
Domenico tapped his fingers on the table. “But … Mark needs to carry a gun. He doesn’t do it for fun, or because he’s bored.”
Seth stilled with the spatula buried in the creamy eggs. He was glad that he had his back to them, because he didn’t want them to see how much those words hurt him. He pulled out the croissants, stuffed them with egg, and then put them in front of Domenico and Mark, vigorously grinding fresh black pepper on top.
“I
s this also my house, or not?” he asked harshly, and this time Mark chose to not engage with the question, taking lively interest in the bacon laid out in the middle of the table.
Domenico looked up, his amber eyes darkening slightly. “Of course it is.”
“Then get me the fucking crossbow, since it’s my money too!” Seth slammed the little bowl of chopped chives in front of them so hard, pieces of the herb sprinkled the table. He shouldn’t have been forced to ask about shit like this, as if Dom were doing him a favor. And yet his hands were tied, because he wasn’t allowed out of the property without a bodyguard, and even if he somehow managed to go behind Dom’s back and ordered the fucking thing at an internet café, he didn’t actually have the means to pay for it.
Domenico generally gave Seth cash whenever it was needed, but while happy to indulge Seth’s taste in clothes, media, and food, he did sometimes police his choices. Like that time when he’d ordered Seth a plain black T-shirt instead of the one with the band print Domenico had earlier called tasteless. To that day Domenico maintained it had been an honest mistake, but Seth couldn’t shake off the sense that he’d been lied to.
Domenico’s nostrils flared at Seth’s outburst, and even Mark kept his mouth shut for once, stuffing it with the fresh food that Seth had made for him instead. He’d even left out the chives, because Mark didn’t like them, but no one noticed, assuming it was Seth’s job to indulge them.
“Fine,” Domenico said in the end, but he didn’t look too happy. “But you can’t shoot it here. We’ll build a range for you.”
Seth took a deep breath in an attempt to cool off. He hadn’t meant to cause a scene, but whenever conversations like these came up, he lost it. Even on their anniversary, he was powerless to plan anything that went beyond the little enclosed world Domenico had created for him. And so, like last year, he would prepare an amazing meal and light candles he’d made himself. Candle making. Yet another hobby he’d quickly got bored of.
“Good,” he muttered and pulled out a plate with two small chocolate pastries. He’d considered not offering them dessert after the comments they’d made, but he’d have hated to see the food go to waste.
He poured himself a glass of wine and watched Mark and Dom eat in a vain attempt to chill out, because this wasn’t the wedding anniversary morning he’d planned.
“It’s delicious,” Mark said out of nowhere, as if he were trying to make up for his earlier comments.
Seth was about to put the glass to his lips when Domenico squeezed his knee under the table. “How about you drink that a bit later? I need you to trim my hair.”
Seth stilled with the glass in hand and leaned over to rub a few of the silky strands in his fingers. So long and thick, the black hair tickled his back when Dom fucked him, complemented Domenico’s beauty, and cutting it was painful every time. But Dom wouldn’t let anyone else close with a blade, so there would be no discussion about who had to be the hair executioner.
After the haircutting that had unexpectedly devolved into an argument, Seth turned to their home gym for relaxation, but hitting the sandbag in his boxing gloves over and over again was only getting him sweaty. He had everything he needed in their private paradise, so why was he always so restless? Why couldn’t he appreciate things for what they were?
Wasn’t he the one to ask for this in the first place? How could he be this ungrateful?
How dare he be bored when Mark and Domenico worked hard to provide them with comforts brought thanks to a steady stream of dirty money. It seemed that with each passing month he knew less about what Domenico did beyond the safety of their enclosed home. Seth not asking about it completed their silent agreement. What had been a relief at first, was now an itch at the back of his mind, making it impossible to ever fully relax.
At least the restlessness combined with too much time on his hands meant he was now in what he would immodestly describe as the best shape of his life. He’d turned thirty a few months back, and he was lean, fit, sporting muscles he trained heavily for. The energy inside of him was like a ticking time bomb. He loved gardening, and cooking, tending to his chickens, and playing with Angelica, but he also craved the thrill and excitement that he simply wasn’t getting.
It felt like being constantly horny yet never able to get off.
The big birthday had only forced him to confront thoughts about the future, and no matter how many cakes he baked, how many box sets he binged on, or how many hours he spent playing video games, he had no idea where his life was going, always floating in limbo.
Feed chickens.
Breakfast.
Train.
Play with Angelica.
Find someone to chat to.
Fill endless hours with training.
TV.
Cooking.
New Hobbies.
Chickens.
Garden.
Rinse and repeat.
Sometimes he didn’t even know what day of the week it was, because it all turned into one long, meaningless race to fill the time. Alone in the house, he liked to text Domenico, but he’d already done it twice today without receiving a single answer.
Today at least, he had a special evening to look forward to. To celebrate their anniversary, he would create a grand dinner extravaganza and fuck Dom senseless. They would take their time and talk about every little thing, reminisce about their younger years, and make promises for the future. Only in Domenico’s arms did the passing of time not matter.
He’d asked Giulia to keep to the nursery this evening, so that he and Dom could have some space to enjoy each other’s company without interruptions. Excitement heated his blood as time passed, and he was adamant about making everything perfect. He’d cut fresh flowers for the table, and the newly-baked lemon cupcakes—Domenico’s favorites—filled the whole house with tempting aromas that were bound to weaken Dom’s legs even before foreplay.
By the time the day was coming to an end, Seth had finished preparing a board of Italian meats and cheeses, and the main dish waited in the oven. Everything was ready for Domenico’s return, and once the sun started its descent, Seth settled into a wicker chair on the terrace outside to catch his husband as soon as he came home.
Knowing how much Dom liked him in a shirt, Seth made sure to wear one, with the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms, the top buttons open. He sipped some wine, winding down from all the cooking, and when Domenico’s usual arrival time was closing in, he could almost taste the familiar skin against his tongue.
Another hour passed, which was fine, even if undesired, since Domenico didn’t exactly do the typical nine-to-five job. But as the hour hand of the grandfather clock in their living room climbed the numbers, Seth’s mood turned gloomier.
He eventually got tired of waiting, so another glass of wine later, he made his way to the kitchen and took his time preparing food for the table. He arranged it. Then rearranged it. Made the setup opulent and overflowing, adding fruit and nuts, so that the whole table had the appearance of the mythical cornucopia.
It was about time to send Domenico another reminder that Seth was waiting for him, but he gave his husband a bit longer by taking photos of the finished setup. Maybe he could learn to photoshop it to perfection one day?
He sent Domenico yet another text message and transferred the photos to his laptop, but the subsequent glasses of wine distracted him from any editing work he might have done, and he drifted off to look through their private photos. Some didn’t include their faces, but even those spoke of happiness and the kind of intimacy Seth had never hoped for before meeting Domenico.
His entire body exploded with heat when his phone finally buzzed, but all and any excitement fizzled out the moment he read the laconic message, which stated, [Will be home late. Work.]
Seth leaned back in the chair, eyeing the opulent setup that had taken him the entire afternoon to prepare for a dinner that wouldn’t take place.
He’d thought Domenico hadn’t mentioned
their anniversary in the morning because he wanted to surprise Seth somehow. But no. He must have simply forgotten about it.
There was no other explanation for this. For good reason. Busy with the life he led outside of this house, why would Domenico pay attention to petty bullshit like this? Still, it hurt. After all that they’d been through, and with Domenico being the one who had nagged for a wedding in the first place, Seth was being taken for granted. He’d considered the Trophy Husband T-shirt funny when he first got it, but it now created a sour taste in his mouth, and the unpleasant flavor needed washing down with much more than wine.
Rum was Seth’s next choice. The old photos still burned in his brain when he drank a shot. As the liquor started buzzing in his veins, Seth took his time disassembling the elaborate dinner, even though getting rid of each element made something inside him throb.
Domenico wouldn’t even know what he’d missed, and Seth wouldn’t show him just how much he’d craved to please. For all he cared, they didn’t need to mention the anniversary at all.
Chapter 2 - Domenico
Domenico woke up groggy, and with a heavy sensation in all his limbs. Torn out of a dream, for a moment he still believed he should be hurrying to the day job he had in the alternate reality produced by his brain. But then he registered the beeping of the alarm clock, which settled on him with its message of doom. Domenico switched it off and slumped with his face in the pillow.
The other side of the bed was empty and, as usual at that time in the morning, already cold, but he scowled when memories flooded back. Seth had woken him up when it was still dark, and for some dumb reason at that. What had that been again? A crossbow? What the fuck would he need a crossbow for? It would only end up with trouble, like all other attempts Seth had made at hunting in the past.
Still frustrated with the broken rest, Domenico rolled out of their huge modern four-poster bed and walked across the bare wooden floor all the way to the adjacent bathroom.
One glance at the mirror was enough to make Domenico scowl. If lack of sleep alone was enough to make him look so puffy then he really was leaving behind his youth. Which was fine, since there was nothing unsightly about a hot man with wrinkles. What mattered was that his last surgery made the ugly souvenir on his face, courtesy of his and Seth’s flight from their New York apartment, virtually invisible. It was almost as if he’d regained his old face back. Granted—his features were now a bit more pronounced, but the bulging scar was gone.
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