Jamal waved off his concerns. “We’re very lax in Kazakhstan about all that, we’re not in the grips of Sharia Law or anything like that.”
“Oh, good.”
“The Wine Bar sounds good.” His stomach did another funny flop that had nothing to do with being in love. Wasn’t that place super expensive? What would his father say to him spending that amount of money? He nodded his head anyway, as this was an actual date, not just some covert groping in a darkened corner.
They parted at the corner of the street, Matt to go to work, Jamal to get to school. He had already missed his first class of the day, but it was only algebra. He would’ve slept through it anyway. And okay, so The Wine Bar was pricy, but it would be worth the memory he could take back home in a year’s time. Or… it would be in a year’s time… had he taken the courses he was supposed to take for his major— the one his father had picked for him in the first place. Jamal had enough to be able to claim a psychology major, but his father wouldn’t see the use in that. He walked faster, just thinking about his schooling. What would he say to his father, at the end of this year? His father wasn’t a fool, he would learn sooner or later that he had just paid for a psychology major, not the business one he had wanted.
Oh Papa, why didn’t you send Jamilya instead of me, in the first place? But he knew, there were several reasons. Firstly, he was a boy. Yes, the youngest but still a boy. Second… and this he knew was the real reason, his father wanted him away from all “those type of people.” He couldn’t admit to what was right before his nose. Jamal barely felt the cold as he walked up the curve of the road to Skidmore College. His thoughts wouldn’t let him.
He never saw the grand mansions that lined the road. Nor did he pay it any attention when the houses stopped and the woods started. He even ignored the quaint light posts, that usually made him smile every time he walked by them, as out of time and out of place in his world as the lawn jockeys that also lined the street, showing the racing silks of the owner of each house. This was a world he would never be part of; he was merely a passing outsider. Just like home.
Down the road was the campus, glaringly modern after the grace of the Victorian town. Even so, after three years, it was as close to a home as Jamal could ask for. From the Stadium to Case Green, it was as familiar as all his old haunts, back in Almaty. And here he could be himself. Out, proud, unafraid.
Unafraid mattered the most. If only he hadn’t decided to go to his dorm first and change.
As soon as Jamal opened the door, he knew it had been a mistake. The message machine to his phone was blinking. Not once, not twice, not even six or seven. Jamal stood there, numb in the doorway, as he counted over 20 messages. In the corner of the room was his roommate, who gave him a level glare.
“Dude, you’re so on your own with it.” Denis stood up and took his backpack from the floor. He walked up to Jamal and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck with your folks. And… if you need it, there’s a few beers in the fridge.” Denis winked and left Jamal quite alone with the madly blinking machine.
Great. Rather than listen to what he was sure would be ever-increasingly panicked messages from his mother, Jamal went over to the fridge and pulled out— not a beer— but one of Denis’ cans of soda. Not that Jamal was a big fan of them, but he did need the caffeine before facing the barrage of “where were you last night?” that he knew would be coming. A glance at his watch told him it would be six o’clock in Kazakhstan. If he was really unlucky, his mama would call in the next few seconds, before he could think up a convincing story.
Settling into the chair in front of his computer, he reached for his eldest sister’s number on the Skype. It only took a few rings before the screen showed Tamilya, her black hair mussed, her new baby on her lap.
When she saw him, her face lit up into a smile before she waggled her free hand at him. “Have you called Mama yet?”
“No, I just got back in. How bad is it?” Already he could feel his stomach twisting around the cold soda he had just unwisely put there.
She just rolled her eyes at him. “Like you need to ask that. You need to call her.”
“I’m afraid. She’ll kill me.”
“No. Papa will kill you. Mama’ll just cry and be thankful you’re alive.”
“Well, what else would I be?” Really, his mother just needed to stop being so paranoid.
Tamilya snorted. “You know how she is. If you call her now, you’ll just get her, you won’t have to worry about Papa. I can take care of him and if Mama’s okay, you know he’ll be fine too. So where were you last night? Why didn’t you call?”
“Well… we had a blizzard here yesterday, and I, sort of, got caught out in it unprepared.” Jamal could feel the heat of his blush creep up his neck.
“Unprepared, as in how?”
He screwed up his face. “I, sort of, forgot to put warm clothes on, and my scarf and hat.”
“Good one.” She snorted and covered her mouth, so he couldn’t see her laughter. “You come from a cold country like this, and you get caught out in some tame American storm? Silly boy.” Her words held a teasing note, as did her eyes.
“I love you.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Papa was on the line yesterday, telling me all about Aizhana. Apparently she’s not going to marry Yeleu.”
“Well, there’s a shock.” Tamilya snorted. “Yeleu’s such a pig. Good for her, stopping the whole damn mess, she deserves better.”
He nodded. Aizhana was a sweet girl, always shy and self-effacing, always with her nose in a book. “She deserves someone who will love her.”
“She does.” Tamilya had that knowing look in her eye, the one that said without words that she understood. “I wish I could give you a hug. You deserve love, too.”
“Trust me, if I could change how I feel, I would have, years ago.”
“I know. I don’t want you to change, I just want you to be happy.”
“One day. Maybe.” He picked at the soda can top for a second before deciding to tell her. “Actually, I have a date, this Friday.”
“You do? What’s he like?” Her entire face lit up. Of his entire family, only his two sisters and one younger cousin knew about him. It was their shared secret.
“You know that guy I told you about a few times. The one that comes to the LGBT meetings but isn’t a student there?”
“I thought he had a boyfriend.”
“He did, but they broke up a while back. At least that’s what Denis says. That they broke up when I was on summer break with you guys.”
“Oh.” She looked confused for a moment before waving him on. “So tell me all about it. How did it come about?”
Jamal blushed. “It was the blizzard. He and I were helping this little old lady back to her house. Only I think by the end she was helping us more, certainly me.”
“Really?” She laughed.
Jamal had to snort as well. “Yeah, well, it was cold out. And Papa had just told me about Serik.”
Tamilya sobered at that. “Yeah, Zhaidar was the one who told me.” Zhaidar was their brother.
“I’m sure it was pretty much the same version as Papa’s.”
“Oh no, this being Zhaidar, I’m sure his version was much, much worse. Papa just wants gays all dead. Zhaidar wants to torture and humiliate them before killing.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
“About you? If you stay in America, nothing. If you stay hidden, nothing. But you don’t need me to tell you what he’d do if he found out, and you live here.” She gave him a sad smile. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to Mama too. You just go grab happiness while you can.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Okay, on that note, I need to lay this chubby boy down. Talk tomorrow, same time?”
He nodded. “Talk later.”
The screen went blank. Sniffing a sigh, Jamal grabbed his books and fled the room before the phone could ring.
****
The week w
ent faster than Jamal would have thought possible. As Friday drew closer, he found himself wondering more and more if he had exaggerated Matt’s feelings for him. Maybe he was only being kind. Maybe the reason he had stopped things from going further that night was because he didn’t like Jamal, not because he wanted to go slowly. The tirade he had to hear from Zhaidar, and then from his father again, over Serik, didn’t help. But there was one bright note. Serik was getting better, despite all the hate directed towards him. According to Jamilya, Jamal’s other sister, he would be okay. Beaten, but not dead. Beaten, but still himself.
Throughout the week, Matt did text, and he did call. Friday came quickly enough. Before he knew it, Matt was walking up to him, wonderfully handsome in his woolly sweater and jeans, his brown eyes smiling when they saw Jamal standing just outside, on the tall steps that led to the restaurant. Maybe things would turn out okay after all. Jamal tucked all his nerves into a small ball in his stomach and smiled a greeting to Matt.
“So what d’you think?” Matt asked, stopping before Jamal.
“It looks nice.” And expensive. He had already been sweating over the menu that had been placed outside. His father would kill him if he knew how much money he was about to spend.
As if reading his mind, Matt said, “Don’t worry, the dinner’s on me.”
“Wha—? No, that’s okay, I can pay.”
Matt took him by the hand. “When I said ‘let’s go on a date’ I meant it. This is a date, and as your date, I insist on paying.” He led Jamal up the stairs and into the restaurant.
Just this side of terrified, Jamal tried to take his hand back. After all, they were in a public space. What if people objected? But no, no one looked at them. No one said a word. The pretty girl that led them to their table by the window didn’t scowl. In fact, she did the opposite; she grinned like the happiest fool on earth. It was only once Jamal was seated that Matt let go of his hand. Jamal could still feel the warmth there, the phantom of Matt’s hand in his.
“But I thought you were just a poor artist.”
Matt waved that off. “Yeah, well. Even starving artists have a bit of money to spend on a cute boy, eh?”
What could he say to that? Jamal could feel the heat coming off his face at the compliment. No one ever said he was cute. He never heard the word cute associated with his name. He blinked at the man in a mix of pride and disbelief.
Realizing he was starting to stare at Matt, Jamal looked down at the menu. Besides high prices, there were a lot of vegetables on offer, and pork. He cringed at the thought of either one. The pizza was cheap, but it came in either meat free or covered in pork products.
“Any preference on wine?” Matt was smiling when he all but jumped at the question.
“Sorry, it’s just so quiet in here.” He gave Matt a guilty look of apology before glancing about. Besides them, there was another couple at a table along the far wall, and a group of women settling at a table closer to the bar. They were the only ones sitting by the window. Outside was every bit as silent as inside the restaurant.
“It’s the weather,” Matt said, echoing Jamal’s thought. “No one wants to be out when it’s so cold. Life is much easier curled up in a Snuggie, in front of the TV.” He glanced at the menu before asking, “So, the wine? I’m thinking we just get a bottle and split it.”
Jamal looked at the long list that a place calling itself The Wine Bar would have. There were countless types of cabernet sauvignon and pinot noir. The whites he dismissed; it was too cold to even think about them. Feeling a rising surge of panic at the prices, he blurted out, “How about you choose? I’m not very good at knowing what I like.”
Matt reached out and stroked Jamal’s fingers where they laid against the menu. “Okay, do you know what you want to eat?”
“I… uh.” He glanced at the one thing that looked good. “Uh… no, not yet? You?” Maybe he could make a choice once he knew the price Matt was spending on his own dinner.
“I was thinking the cod.”
Oh good, that was almost the same amount of money as what he wanted. “Maybe the beef for me.”
Matt snorted and squeezed Jamal’s hand. “I’m not a wine/food snob, are you?”
“No, why?”
“Because we’d never get a wine to match both. So how about a pinot noir? To hell with matching it to fish, it’ll be nice on a cold night.”
“Okay.” Jamal had no idea of how a pinot matched food or not. He was happy to let Matt do all the talking to the waitress.
Why did first dates always have to be so awkward?
Chapter Six
The cold air felt good in Matt’s lungs, as he breathed in deeply. After the stifling atmosphere of the restaurant, and Jamal’s shyness, it was cleansing to be out in the night. Maybe going to such a fancy place had been a mistake. Jamal had clearly been uncomfortable. Though Matt wasn’t sure if it was because they were obviously on a date in a public place, or if the prices at the restaurant made him uncomfortable. Matt felt bad. Nervously, he fingered the condom package tucked safely in the pocket of his coat. Just at the last minute he had remembered that he was out— a date really had been that long ago— and had run to the gas station to grab a pack. Figuring it would make Jamal uncomfortable if they had to go together to get some. After seeing the shy way Jamal had acted when confronted with a menu, he had probably guessed right.
Matt glanced at the boy, who was looking up the street. “Do you want to come back for a drink? Or would you rather go back to your dorm? I’ll walk you back, if you do.” Yes, the walk would feel good, tonight.
“I-I can come back for a drink… if that’s okay.” Jamal looked so unsure of himself. It was all Matt could do not to scoop him up right then and there. There was just enough of a size difference that he could do it without looking the fool.
Reaching out, he took Jamal by the hand. “That sounds perfect.”
Jamal’s hand was just that little bit smaller than his, just enough to make it a perfect fit. They set off down the empty street, the only sounds their boots on the snow. Through both their gloves, he could just feel a small tremble coming from Jamal. He was so nervous. Matt gave his hand a squeeze for reassurance.
“You don’t have to come back if you’re not ready.”
“No, I-I want to.”
“You sure?”
Jamal nodded. “Lead the way.”
“Okay.” They slipped down the dark alley that led to Matt’s house. That was one advantage of living in town, everything was within walking distance.
In the darkest shadow in the alley, Matt stopped. Before Jamal could ask him why, he pulled the smaller boy to him, so close he could feel the heat of Jamal’s breath on his face. So close all it took was for Matt to tilt his head slightly, and Jamal’s lips were pressed against his own.
When the kiss broke, he murmured, “I’ve been thinking about that all week.”
“And?” Jamal smiled up at him, his eyes dancing.
“It’s every bit as good as I remembered.”
“You could have more.” Jamal’s smile was teasing.
“Now that’s the best offer I’ve heard all week.”
The next kiss was rougher, more urgent. Without saying a word, Jamal took him by the hand and led him back into the light of the library parking lot, and beyond that, up the street to his home. The light from his living room, spilling out of the bay window and onto the snow had never looked so inviting. Matt would have run— if running wouldn’t have looked just a bit overeager. But he couldn’t wait to get Jamal inside, to get him naked and into his bed.
Shutting the door, Matt turned his full attention to Jamal. Like he had any choice. Jamal was fully pressed against him as soon as he took his coat off. Jamal’s lips were pressed against his own, Jamal’s tongue was against his lips, gently, as though even that part of him was shy. But not his hands. They were pulling Matt’s shirt up, daring to press firmly against his skin, as if Jamal was starved for the feel of naked flesh.
The bedroom was just beyond. It took all of Matt’s will not to push Jamal into it. He yanked Jamal’s hoodie, then his T-shirt off. Jamal’s skin was like silk under his fingers and under his tongue, as he kissed and sucked on his chest, trailing down until he caught one small nipple with his tongue. Jamal’s nipples were so small, so dark. Matt was careful— just— to kiss and suck them, not to bite too hard. He felt, more than heard, Jamal moan.
Jamal’s chest was more muscular than he had thought it would be. It had been hard to tell, since the boy wore baggy clothes all the time. In the faint light of his living room lamp coming through the bedroom door, Matt could see what he had been waiting years for.
Jamal was beautiful.
Matt only took a moment to admire him before he fell upon Jamal’s body, kissing and caressing, feeling the way his muscles knotted and tensed under that silken skin. It was nothing to pull at his jeans, to tug at them until they fell away, giving Matt exactly what he wanted. He breathed in the scent of maleness and need. Then enveloped Jamal’s cock in his mouth, tasting him, feeling him fill his mouth. Matt could feel his own cock straining against boxers and jeans, pleading to be freed.
Pushing Jamal onto the bed, he stood and complied. Jamal propped himself onto his elbows and watched him, a half smile playing on his lips. When Matt’s jeans dropped, Jamal sat up and— never taking his eyes off of Matt’s— took Matt’s cock in hand, and then into his mouth. The warmth alone was almost enough to make Matt come. This moment was everything he had dreamed it would be. Jamal swirled his tongue around the head of Matt’s cock before taking him deep, so deep he could feel the ridges of his throat.
“You keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” he murmured, gripping Jamal’s hair in his fists.
Instead of answering, Jamal leaned back, letting Matt’s cock leave his mouth. He lay back until only his feet were still on the ground, Matt between his knees. It would be so easy to sink to the bed, to sink into Jamal. Matt wanted to fill him, to make Jamal his. He leaned down briefly to grab for a condom in his jean’s pocket before he realized something.
Un/Common Ground Page 5