by Jack Harbon
By the end of the night, the four of them were tipsy, Lincoln stumbling over the curb. Mateo caught him by the arm, snickering at just how wasted the guy had gotten. Arthur pulled Lincoln’s phone from his pocket and made quick work ordering them a car.
“I drove here, man,” he said.
“You can pick the car up later.”
Lincoln made a face. “But—”
“No buts. Your car is on its way right now. I can bring you back tomorrow, but you’re not driving like this.” The way he said it, Mateo didn’t even dare to dream about arguing with him. The tone of his voice was commanding and dominant and it sent a bit of a shiver through his body.
“Thanks, baby,” Nicola said, giving him a quick hug. “It was so nice to meet you too, Mateo. We need to get together more often. You’re a doll, truly.” For some reason, she’d adopted a poor imitation of a British accent, and Mateo could barely keep a straight face as she complimented him.
“You’re amazing, Nicola,” he said.
Once their car pulled up and Arthur got them situated in the back, he guided them to his own car, where his driver sat waiting. Mateo looked up at him, curious. “Did you not have fun? You’re awfully sober.”
“No, I had a great time. I just don’t get drunk in public. I don’t like feeling out of control that way.” A pensive look crossed Arthur’s face, but Mateo didn’t press the issue any further.
“Makes sense,” he said.
“Now that we’re alone, where should I instruct my driver to drop you off?”
Mateo didn’t know whether to give the driver his full address or to just drop off at the same place he’d been picked up. That’s when another option popped into his head. “What about…going back to your place?”
Arthur arched one of his full eyebrows. “Oh. You want me to take you home tonight? That can be arranged.” He told the driver to head back to his place, and soon they were en route. Mateo couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, but this entire night had been about opening up and doing things that scared him.
Why pass up one last chance to do something risky?
7
TAKE ME HOME TONIGHT
Arthur’s penthouse had a doorman. To anyone living there, it might not have seemed like something to stop and think about, but for Mateo, it was surreal. He’d only seen doormen on TV shows about twins living in luxurious hotels. The thought had never crossed his mind that there might be places only a few miles from him where someone’s entire job was to open the door. He smiled gratefully at the man when they passed, and he was greeted with a tip of the hat. Arthur led him up to the top floor by way of the elevator, and to his surprise, there was actually decent music playing inside.
Arthur paused once he twisted the key in the door. He glanced back at Mateo with a smile on his face. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said. He opened the door dramatically and Mateo shook his head at the man’s cheesy line.
He struggled to keep his face smooth and not let it show that he was in awe of Arthur’s loft. It was breathtakingly picturesque. There were paintings hanging on every snow-white wall, plush faux fur rugs by the fireplace and in front of the television, and the sofa...
Mateo had never seen anything like it before. In the middle of the living room sat a pit-shaped sectional. It was practically a square of softness. Just behind the living room was the kitchen, spotless and organized, and above them, a balcony where he assumed Arthur’s bed to be.
“This... this is amazing.” He wanted to curl up into a ball on the sofa and drag his fingers along the fabric like some sort of house cat.
“I’ll be sure to tell Ms. Middleton. She designed the interior.”
Mateo nearly choked on his tongue. “Alma Middleton? Like, Middleton Makeovers on HGTV, Alma Middleton?”
“That would be the one,” Arthur chuckled. Mateo watched as Arthur removed his shoes and placed them by the door. He quickly unlaced his own. He didn’t want to drag dirt throughout Arthur’s house, especially not when everything looked as white as Congress.
Arthur made his way up the spiral staircase. “I’m going to change and get more comfortable. I have food and drinks in the fridge if you want something. I’ll be quick.”
“Take your time,” Mateo said, wandering around the open first floor. He waited until Arthur was gone before he pulled his phone out and snapped a few pictures for his friends. He knew they wouldn’t believe him if he didn’t show physical—or digital—proof that Arthur lived in an influencer’s dream penthouse.
Arthur descended in a form-fitting tank top and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. In his new outfit, Mateo could see his physique even better. Thick dark hair covered the outside of his forearms, and when he crossed his arms over his chest, Mateo watched as his veins became slightly more visible, tanned skin pulled taut over his Michelangelo-crafted biceps.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” Arthur said lightly, though the hint of mischief in his voice said he didn’t mind.
“What’s rude is walking down here like that,” Mateo said.
“By all means, feel free to get comfortable too. I don’t mind waiting.”
“No, I bet you don’t,” Mateo murmured. “I’m okay like this. Thank you, though.”
“Well, if you’re sure, you should find us something to watch on TV. It’ll be like a sleepover. I’ll even get you a bowl of ice cream. I know you have that sweet tooth and all.”
Mateo blushed and followed him into the living room. He opened his mouth to speak when his toe caught on something. He launched forward, face first into the ground. Arthur was quicker, and he caught Mateo in his arms. The sudden stop knocked his phone from his hands, but Mateo couldn’t have cared less. He was grateful to still be standing and not lying face down on the floor.
He looked up at Arthur, his heart racing. In the month they’d known each other, this was the most intimate they’d ever gotten. Keeping true to his word, not once had Arthur ever tried to force or coax him into doing something he didn’t want to do. Mateo wanted to take his time with this, get a feel for the water, and Arthur had gone above and beyond to make him feel safe and secure without any pressure.
“Are you okay?” Arthur asked, looking him over.
Mateo’s chest heaved, his body on high alert from the sudden spike of adrenaline. He took a few breaths and blew a tuft of hair from his eyes before he nodded. Aside from his stinging toe and his mortally wounded pride, he was fine.
“Yep, just me being clumsy trash,” Mateo said, forcing a smile to show that it wasn’t a big deal. “I don’t know what I tripped over, though.”
Arthur sighed. “It’s this damn spot.” He pushed the plank back down and picked up Mateo’s fallen phone as well, looking it over. The screen was cracked severely, and it wouldn’t turn back on.
“Damn,” Mateo said.
“I’ll order you a replacement, I promise,” Arthur said. “Actually, I’m getting you the newest phone as an apology. I’m so sorry, Mateo. Clementine likes scratching up that board even though I tell her not to, so it’s about time I call someone and have them fix it.”
Mateo made a face. “Clementine?”
As soon as he spoke, he heard a small jangling noise coming from upstairs. A moment later, the tiniest Yorkshire Terrier came bouncing into the room.
“You have a dog?” he exclaimed, looking back at Arthur.
“I do. She’s a terrible guard dog, unfortunately.”
Rather than standing her ground, she simply looked at Mateo with subdued curiosity. He held his hand out and she took a few tentative steps towards him. Without thinking, Mateo got down onto his knees, ushering her forward with soft words of encouragement. She sniffed his hand a few times before licking his fingers and rubbing against him.
“On the plus side, she likes you,” Arthur said happily. He walked to the fridge and pulled two bottles of water out.
Now that there was a dog in the room, Mateo could barely pay attention to Arthur’s voice. “
How are you doing, Clementine? You’re gorgeous, you know that? Pretty, pretty, pretty girl.” As if on cue, she snorted and spun around in a small circle. Mateo’s eyes lit up and he made a noise of excitement. Arthur returned to hand Mateo a bottle of water.
“She really likes you,” he grinned. “Which is good. I don’t trust people she doesn’t like.”
“She’s adorable,” Mateo said. He took the bottle of water, and as he sipped, he found himself looking up at Arthur. The moment he realized how this position must look, him on his knees in front of Arthur, Mateo cleared his throat and hopped up from the ground. Arthur’s eyes seemed to sparkle with devilish amusement. It took everything for Mateo not to shove his shoulder and tell him to shut up.
“I…”
Mateo started to say something but clammed up, pressing his lips together tight.
“What’s on your mind?” Arthur asked.
It would’ve been easier to tell him everything that wasn’t on his mind. Too many things overlapped in his head, stealing focus just as he settled onto a topic. The biggest was the closeness of this whole night.
The way it had felt to be under Arthur’s arm at the karaoke bar or held inside of them only moments ago. He was somewhere stuck between wanting more and being too afraid to ask for it. What if Arthur obliged and Mateo wasn’t able to keep from giving in completely? What if they crossed a line he wasn’t ready for just yet?
Arthur tilted Mateo’s chin until their eyes met. “Talk to me,” he insisted.
“Honestly?”
“I’d prefer it that way.”
“I don’t know how to describe it. You’re like cake. I really like cake. It’s one of my favorite things in the world. But I can’t have it often because I know that if I do, I might lose control and eat too much of it. I might cut more than I can handle and end up feeling bad. I could ruin the beauty of the cake completely. Does that make sense?”
Arthur thought for a moment. “You’re scared you might ruin what we have if you let yourself enjoy it too much. Am I right?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, finding Arthur’s stare too uncomfortable to hold. He dropped his gaze to the floor, watching as he dragged his big toe in circles on the wood.
“I know you’re nervous, Mateo, but I really do like you. Not because I think you’re beautiful—which you are, might I add—but because I have fun being around you. I had fun tonight. I had so much fucking fun, actually. So you don’t need to worry about ruining a good thing. Whenever you want more of me, just ask me.”
Mateo let out a long sigh. “Jesus Christ. What Patricia Hayes book did you step out of?”
“The one with the ghost.”
“Ooh, can we watch the movie adaption of that?”
“Order it and we can,” Arthur said.
Mateo didn’t need to be told twice. He headed over to the couch and began flipping through screens on the TV until he was able to find a list of movies available. He scrolled for a few minutes, suddenly becoming aware of Arthur’s silence. He paused to look around the empty room.
“Uh… Arthur?”
Rather than a response, he was greeted with a large comforter flying over the balcony and landing on top of him. He laughed and pulled it from his face, looking around for the man. Pillows followed the comforter, and once again he was buried, giggling the entire time. Though he couldn’t see him, he heard Arthur coming down the stairs.
“What’s all this for?” he asked the older man.
“I said we’re having a sleepover. It’s not a sleepover until we have all the best blankets and pillows.”
“You’re too much.”
“What was that?” Arthur asked.
“I said you’re too much!”
“Bet you won’t say it to my face.”
Mateo scoffed. “You have to come and make me say it.”
There was a moment of silence before Mateo felt the comforter begin to move. He knew in an instant that Arthur was underneath the sheets with him. He’d accepted the challenge. Mateo wasn’t going to give in that easily, though. They crawled in circles, Mateo hiding and Arthur diving for his legs. Just before he fell off the sofa, Arthur grabbed his ankles and tugged him back.
He loomed over Mateo, breathless, a lopsided grin on his face and his hair jutting out in a mess. Without thinking twice, Mateo reached forward and cupped the side of his face, allowing his thumb to stroke his scruffy cheek.
He wanted to say something profound, or at the very least witty, but he was left wordless, staring up at the painfully gorgeous man that remained waiting for his next move. In a quick motion, Mateo slid his hand from Arthur’s cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him down until their lips met. The slight worry he felt for a split second melted away the moment Arthur placed an arm on either side of him and deepened the kiss.
He tasted like spearmint toothpaste and he smelled vaguely of some kind of cologne that cost more than Mateo’s tuition. Heady, with herbal notes barely recognizable. It was Mateo’s new favorite smell.
His tongue brushed over Arthur’s and his heart nearly burst. His chest ached for another wet graze, another fleeting tap against Arthur. He wanted to feel that tongue in other places and in no other place but against his own. For a moment, Mateo was sure he’d lost all sanity, only able to regain it the moment he pulled away from Arthur.
He was dizzy, possibly from the alcohol and the temperature under the blanket, and the goofy grin on his face was in full force. Mateo opened his eyes to see Arthur’s matching smile. He dragged his rough thumb over Mateo’s plush bottom lip and said,
“See? That was you getting more. The sky didn’t fall, now did it, Chicken Little?”
“Shut up,” Mateo grumbled, half-heartedly rolling his eyes and sitting up. He crawled out from under the covers and fell back onto the cool pillows. Arthur was at his side a moment later. As he started to get up from the couch, Mateo grabbed onto him and held him back, practically climbing in his lap.
“I still need to make your ice cream,” he said lightly.
“Nah. I just had cake.”
Chuckling, Arthur got situated on the couch and let one of his arms wrap around Mateo. He pressed play on the remote, and soon his penthouse was filled with the sounds of love and danger and mystery. Mateo could barely keep his eyes open halfway through the movie.
As he drifted asleep, he felt Arthur’s long fingers running through his hair and heard the vibrations as the man softly sang the Eddie Money song from earlier in the night. Mateo was out cold before the second verse.
8
DEPOSIT
The following morning, Mateo was roused by the sounds of sizzling and blending. He rubbed his eyes and looked around, unsure where he was. He knew he wasn’t at home, and it all came back to him when he saw the disheveled blankets on the sofa. Mateo sat up slowly and yawned, stretching out his muscles. Beside him, Clementine was curled up in a ball, snuggling close. He reached forward and scratched her ear. Behind him, he heard Arthur in the kitchen.
He watched Arthur move around with ease, flipping pancakes and bacon as the lights above him highlighted his muscular back. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and Mateo’s mind took a nosedive to the gutters. Unfortunately for him, his morning wood wanted him to spend some time alone imagining what was below Arthur’s belt. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down.
"G’morning, sleepyhead," Arthur said warmly. Mateo smiled up at him and grabbed one of the smaller blankets. He wrapped it around his shoulders and walked into the kitchen, standing next to Arthur and accepting the kiss to the top of his head with a smile.
"What’re you cooking?" he asked.
"A little of everything. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, and I made some orange juice in the fridge."
"You did not make orange juice." As ridiculous as it sounded, Mateo was surprised to see that there was indeed a freshly-made pitcher of orange juice. He whistled and closed the door to the fridge. “I stand corrected. How can I help?”
&nb
sp; “You don’t,” Arthur said. “What you can do is sit down at the table and look cute.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Mateo replied, taking a seat at the table and resting on his elbows. He reached for his phone and winced when he saw just how badly damaged the screen was. He’d never broken the glass on any of his phones before. It was a weird feeling scrolling through his apps with the cracks on the screen.
“Here you go,” Arthur said, placing a plate of food in front of Mateo. It all looked delicious, and he didn’t know where to start first. He settled on swiping a piece of bacon through the maple syrup and biting off a chunk.
“This is delicious,” Mateo groaned. Arthur seemed to light up at the compliment. “It’s really not fair.”
“What isn’t?”
“You can’t be successful, wealthy, handsome, and good at cooking. All those good traits mean you probably have one really bad one. What are you, a serial killer?” he teased.
Arthur laughed in surprise. “What if I told you I poisoned your breakfast?”
“I’d say I need to eat more poison then, because this is amazing. Compliments to the chef,” Mateo said with a grin.
“I’ll let him know you like it.”
As they ate, they talked about their plans for the week. Arthur had some business meetings to attend, all of which sounded quite stressful to Mateo. When he told Arthur about the huge sale Lotion Potion was having for Valentine’s Day, Arthur remarked that his job sounded just as stressful, if not more.
“I’m hoping I can actually help with some of that pressure,” Arthur said. He gestured for Mateo’s phone, and confused, Mateo unlocked it and handed it over. Arthur typed on the device while Mateo curiously chewed on a piece of bacon.
“What’re you doing?” he asked.