The Coil

by Gilbert, L. A.

  “Do you know why…?”

  “Why he does it?” His brows lifted sadly. “He earns minimum wage because he was illiterate. He’s also an artist and paints quite a bit. He’s just trying to get by. He doesn’t really have anyone else to rely on.”

  “That’s terrible, but kind of commendable, with how he’s trying to turn it around.”

  He found himself smiling, feeling proud of Mattie. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, and they both looked to Jamie when he came toward them, picture held out.

  “It’s a boat.”

  “Wow.” Simon smiled brightly, taking the picture. “This is even better than the last one.”

  “It’s for Miss Protrakis.”

  Simon snorted and handed it over. “My mistake, Miss Protrakis.”

  Her eyes danced with mirth, and she gushed and made a show of pinning it up on her corkboard.

  “I’ll draw one for you too, Dad.”

  “Thank you, baby.” They both held in their amusement as he tottered back into the living room. Simon turned back to Sarah when Jamie was once again engrossed in his drawing. “Well. Charming.”

  Sarah laughed. “What can I say. The kid adores me.”

  He lifted one shoulder and took a sip of his coffee. “And he likes it here. One more place we can go without having to plan ahead and visit first.”

  “Simon, I know I’ve mentioned this before, but what about your moth—”

  “No.”

  “I know what she did was terrible, Simon, but—”

  “I said no, Sarah.”

  “But Jamie could really benefit from having more people in his life, especially fami—”

  “Sarah, the answer is no.”

  She looked sad, but held a hand out, palm forward. “All right, I’m sorry.”

  He sighed. “You don’t have to apologize, but you need to understand that the woman tried to take my son away from me.”

  She nodded, looking into her mug. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Like I said, you—” He was interrupted by the vibrating of his cell phone. Out of habit he whipped it out quickly, forgetting that Jamie was actually with him, and then felt alarmed when realizing who it was calling. “It’s him.”

  She waved at the phone quickly. “Well then answer it!”

  “And say what?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean? You say hello!”

  “But what about everything we just talked about?”

  “Didn’t you say you were going to ‘feel it out’ with him?”

  “True.” He looked at the phone to hit “answer,” but it went silent. He glanced up to see Sarah glaring at him comically. She pointed to the hallway.

  “Go and call him back. I’ll be with Jamie.”

  He smiled his thanks, walked into the hallway, and called him back. Within two rings Mattie answered, and just the sound of his voice felt comforting to him. He made the excuse of having been in a long meeting and then getting Jamie settled at Sarah’s as a reason for not texting him back. And although it sounded feeble to even him, Mattie didn’t question it or ask him about his sudden departure from the diner earlier that day.

  “How was your day?” Simon asked in a soft voice. Mattie had that ability; he could talk him out of the worst of moods.

  “It was a little slow, and I was worried about you, but I’m glad the meeting went well.”

  “Better than I thought it would, anyway.”

  “It’s so great that they let you renegotiate your contract, or whatever.”

  Simon frowned. “I hadn’t mentioned that yet.” Had he? No, he was pretty sure he hadn’t, and there was an uncomfortable silence coming from the other end of the phone. “Mattie?”

  “N-no, you didn’t. Um. I was… that is, Andrew might have mentioned something, just in passing—”

  “Andrew?” His eyes widened. “Andrew, my editor, Andrew? You were… God.” He felt sick, and suddenly his talk with Sarah seemed not only ridiculous but laughable. “He was your ‘other plans’? You were with him?” He couldn’t help it; the disgust dripped from his every word.

  “Simon, listen, it wasn’t what you’re thinking—”

  “So you didn’t go down on him for money?” Even he winced at that, and heard the intake of breath from Mattie. “I….” he sighed, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  There was a shuddering breath across the line and then a quiet “I think you did.”

  “No, Mattie—” He softened.

  “I think I actually fucking disgust you, but you like an easy lay.”

  “Jesus, Mattie, no.”

  “For your information, I didn’t do anything. He offered me two hundred dollars for nothing, and I still turned it down because even a whore has some pride, you know?”

  “Please don’t call yourself that. I’m sorry—”

  “I didn’t do anything with him because of you. I’m fucking broke and can’t pay my rent, but I turned down free cash because it felt disrespectful to you.” He took another shuddering breath. “Fuck you, Simon.”

  The line went dead.

  Simon let out a quiet curse and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. Where exactly did that leave them? And what the hell did this mean? What did they mean to each other? He had no clue, but what he knew for damn sure was that Mattie had not deserved to be spoken to like that. He walked back through to the living room, and his face must have been a picture, because Sarah was already standing from where she had been crouched by Jamie, and was giving him that familiar “men are useless” look.

  “Tell Jamie you’ll be back soon, and then go fix whatever the hell just happened.”

  HE’D spent about ten minutes with his head in his hands, warning himself to not shed one goddamn tear, and then he’d pulled out his sketchbook. Usually he’d head for the paints, but of course, he was completely out of supplies and didn’t have the cash to buy anything new. So now he lay back, propped up with a cushion behind his back, and sketched furiously in a bid to unwind the coil inside that was choking the life out of him. He was so disappointed he could scream.

  When he heard his buzzer, he deliberated on just ignoring it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. But then he thought that it might be his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Tiller, who was constantly locking herself out, and his conscience demanded he get up and answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me.”

  Mattie blinked in surprise; he’d honestly thought that he’d had his last conversation with Simon. He certainly hadn’t expected him to turn up at his apartment, at any rate.

  “Mattie?”

  “Um. I’m here.”

  “Can I please come in?”

  Mattie bit his lip. His pride wanted him to say no, but the part of him that was crazy for Simon wanted to beg him to come up. He settled for saying nothing and buzzed him in. He left the door open a crack and sat himself on the sofa, waiting.

  When Simon came in, he hesitated by the door a moment before closing it behind him. He made his way over to the sofa, not saying a word, and eventually sat himself sideways next to Mattie and touched his knee. “Mattie, I’m so sorry for my actions today. I’m sorry for leaving the diner without a word, I’m sorry for ignoring your text, and I’m sorry for the appalling way I spoke to you on the phone.”

  “I thought we understood one another, Simon. I thought you understood that I don’t like what I do sometimes, but that it doesn’t define me either.”

  “I do, I….” He swallowed a little pride and forced himself to expose some of his true feelings on the matter. “I know that we agreed to slow and easy. I know that, and quite frankly I need that. I can’t deal with anything else. But today I just… I got jealous, and it made me cruel.”

  Mattie felt delighted at the revelation, but was reluctant to allow Simon to see any of these emotions. Instead, he hedged for further information. He licked his lips nervously. “You were jealous?”

  “
At the idea of you being with someone else, yes. But I do understand, and please don’t feel that I think less of you for it.”

  “So… so what does this mean for us?” Mattie held his breath.

  “I suppose… I know that I want to keep seeing you, but I also know I still need to keep it slow and easy between us, f-for now.”

  Initially, Mattie felt let down. The words “slow and casual” were too broad, too intangible, and would only confuse matters further. He wanted clarification but didn’t want to push too far. But “for now?” He could work with that. There was hope there, and he supposed he could be patient.

  “What do you think?” Simon asked, looking worried.

  “It’s okay if you get jealous, but don’t make me feel that way again, all right?” he whispered.

  “Mattie….” He shook his head. “I’ve come to more or less think of you as my closest friend, and I promise you I will endeavor to always treat you with the respect you deserve.”

  Mattie allowed a small smile. “You’re always so wordy.” He looked him up and down. “And you look really handsome in that suit.”

  “Does that mean….” Simon smiled, looking a little nervous.

  Mattie found it charming. “It means you should kiss me.” He spoke quietly.

  A look of relief crossed Simon’s face, and he immediately leaned close to take Mattie’s face gently between his hands to kiss him softly. He murmured one more quiet “I’m sorry” against his lips, and Mattie pulled away, took his hand, and wordlessly pulled him toward the bedroom.

  WITH Mattie’s flesh under his hands and lips, Simon suddenly felt overwhelmed with gratitude for being forgiven for his actions. He followed Mattie into the bedroom and quickly divested Mattie of all clothing, finding himself in a more dominant mood that evening, and wasted no time in slinking down Mattie’s flat, toned stomach to below his waistline.

  It had been an unspoken rule between them that oral was something they would not bring into the bedroom for obvious reasons. Simon didn’t want Mattie to be reminded of anything unpleasant, and he suspected that Mattie didn’t want him to be thinking of those things when being intimate together. But tonight Simon just wanted to please; he wanted to pleasure. It had been too long since he’d done this, since he’d felt that exhilarating power of making someone else feel that good, and he wanted Mattie that way. He wanted Mattie desperate for him.

  It didn’t take long. Within minutes Mattie was panting and begging him to stop. His chest was slick with sweat, rising and falling rapidly. He looked almost lost in a haze of pleasure, those beautiful hazel eyes looking at him for direction. Simon knew exactly what Mattie wanted, and with a quick rummage in the bedside drawer, he wasted no time in giving it to him.

  He could tell almost immediately that it had been a long time since Mattie had bottomed for anyone. In fact they’d discussed their respective lack of boyfriends previously, but it was never more evident than when Simon was sliding home through the slick, hot, tight glove that had him squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to stave off his approaching orgasm.

  Mattie’s harsh breath and intense gaze was fodder enough, but when he desperately pulled Simon down to him, hitching his legs higher over his hips, countering every thrust and looking at him with those desperate, helpless hazel eyes, Simon was just about done in.

  “Mattie, oh my… nugh.” He found himself thrusting madly and without rhythm as that familiar rolling sensation began at the bottom of his spine, spreading through his pelvis. “Mattie!”

  Just before the peak, he felt a spreading of warmth bloom between them, and it was Mattie’s inarticulate cry of pleasure that sent him over. He growled out an expletive that was meant to be Mattie’s name, tensing and clenching all over before collapsing over Mattie with an almost pained sigh of relief.

  Christ, he had needed that. He had needed to take charge and show Mattie just what it was he did to him, and he had a feeling, as Mattie’s hands travelled lazily over his back, that Mattie had needed it too.

  He didn’t know where this relationship was headed, or if indeed it was a relationship they had, but what he did know for sure was that Mattie had become a part of his life, and he needed him.

  Chapter Six

  “HEY, you.”

  Simon looked up from his laptop, having been for the first time in months thoroughly engrossed in attempting to brainstorm and lay out a skeleton of a manuscript. Mattie was distraction enough, however. Something had shifted between them. It was subtle, but they had—despite all odds—laid down the foundation of a genuine friendship and the beginnings of something perhaps more meaningful. Mattie was happier; that much was obvious. He always seemed to light up when Simon entered the room, which was humbling in itself, but there was also no denying that his day improved tenfold in the younger man’s presence.

  “Hey, yourself. Are you on lunch?”

  “Yup, do you want a few more minutes to finish where you were?”

  Appreciating the offer, he nodded and rounded up the notes he was working on, glancing over his laptop as Mattie blew on his cup of soup. He grinned to himself; just about everything this man did lately turned him on. The shift in their relationship—he was admitting to himself that, yes, they had some sort of casual relationship—had come from his playing a more dominant role in the bedroom. For some reason, to begin with he had decided to merely follow Mattie’s lead, perhaps still stunned that a guy like Mattie was so attracted to him in the first place. Now that they’d had their small fight, and Simon had finally admitted to himself that he wanted Mattie, he had turned a corner of sorts and returned to what felt more natural to him in bed. And while he never said no when Mattie decided to take charge for an evening—those were some of the more spectacular evenings that came to mind—he felt more himself playing the instigator and the more dominant of the two.

  “You’re asking for it.” He grinned.

  Mattie looked up, innocent and oblivious. “Huh?”

  “Blowing on your soup like that.”

  Mattie snorted and shook his head, going back to his soup, but Simon could tell he was pleased. “I mean it. Here I am trying to work, and you come over being all sexy with your tomato and basil soup.”

  Mattie laughed quietly. “Stop being cute.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Stop being all sexy, and I’ll stop being cute.”

  It was ridiculous, really. They’d been seeing each other for a few months now, and had only just hit that honeymoon period where the flirting was second nature and the texting at night was downright dirty. He felt as if he were back in his twenties. He was beginning to remember his old self before he became a father, but instead of reminiscing on this, he felt as if he were now a pleasant mixture of his past and present. He felt a small part himself, that had been the carefree Simon with the world at his feet, meshed with the stay-at-home dad in him. And thinking about it, that was exactly the person he wanted to be, because even though he missed how his life had been before Jamie, he realized that he didn’t want to give up who he was now. That had a lot to do with the person sitting opposite him, throwing him shy glances over his cup of soup.

  “Anyhoozles, how’s the writing going?” Mattie frowned slightly and reached a hand across the table to where his satchel lay open and pulled out the small plastic wrapper that had caught his eye.

  Simon watched, taking a moment to save the document he had open. “It’s going really well, actually. I thought it would be absolute hell to begin with, but I’ve got the hunger back, and the ideas are just flowing. I’ve missed this feeling.”

  “That is so great.” Mattie held up the packet with the end twisted shut and lifted his brows in question as he took another sip of his soup. “I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.”

  “I don’t. Jamie got it into his head that he wanted gummy bears for breakfast.” He shrugged guiltily. “Not exactly healthy, I know, but I was helpless against those big brown eyes, so….”

  Mattie laughed quietly. �
�You big softy.”

  He shrugged. “I was just kind of thrilled that he wanted something other than Lucky Charms for once.”

  He took the packet from Mattie. It was still half-full. “I guess he changed his mind.” He smiled softly. “Jamie has this habit of putting empty wrappers, juice boxes—anything he doesn’t want or is done with—in my briefcase or bag. I’m not sure why.”

  “Cute kid just keeps getting cuter.” Mattie shook his head.

  Simon decided he liked hearing how fond Mattie sounded of Jamie, despite their limited introduction quite a while ago. He popped a gummy bear in his mouth and then held the packet open toward Mattie in invitation.

  Mattie shook his head no, and then nodded toward Simon’s laptop. “I think I’m proud of you.”

  “You think?”

  He nodded and hunched his shoulders as he rested both elbows on the table and took another sip of his soup. He seemed to almost regret his comment.

  “I know you don’t need me being all proud of you, or whatever, but uh—I am anyway. It takes balls to move away from what’s familiar and safe—trying something new.”

  He didn’t quite understand the remark, but it pleased him nonetheless. “Thank you. You know, I was up until three last night. I just pictured this scene in my head and had to get it down before I forgot it. I’m honestly beginning to feel like the writer I used to be.”

  “I can’t wait to read it.”

  He’d promised Mattie that, once he had a small portion written, he’d be the first to read it. “Are you still plugging away through my other novel?”

  Mattie hadn’t mentioned he’d been reading his other novel until Simon had spotted it one night on his bedside stand. And it wasn’t that he was eager for praise, but Mattie’s opinion meant a great deal to him, and he was proud of him for keeping up with the reading and writing exercises. He grinned when Mattie’s eyes widened and he rushed to put his mug down.

  “I just got to the part where the mechanic is hallucinating about seeing the woman he buried in the—”