by Kim Fielding
This time Simon got to pick what they watched. He chose something with space aliens and explosions; if there was a plot, Elliott was too drowsy to find it. It didn’t matter anyway, because he was content to simply listen to Simon’s heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of Ishtar’s breathing.
“Halloween’s Wednesday,” said Simon during a lull in the laser-beam zapping.
Elliott had been just enough out of it that he needed a moment to parse the non sequitur. “Yeah.”
“Do you do anything to celebrate?”
“I gave up trick-or-treating a couple decades ago.”
Simon tickled Elliott’s shoulder. “Decorations? Candy? Or are you one of those grouchy old people who hides indoors with the lights off?”
The first year he’d lived here, Elliott had done just that. But he’d felt guilty about it. Their neighborhood tended to celebrate the holiday with gusto, which meant the only houses on the block not currently sporting giant spiders or leering jack-o’-lanterns were his and Mike Burgess’s. In fact, people actually bussed their kids into the neighborhood by the minivan load, lured by visions of full-sized candy bars. Elliott hadn’t minded the visitors. Last year, he’d given out monster stickers and ghost erasers, and even the teenagers had been polite. Most of them put a lot of effort into costumes too.
“I have some little things to give out,” he said. “Bookmarks and stuff.”
Simon chuckled. “I hit up my old department. I’ve got a whole lot of plastic police badges and also a bunch of whistles and water bottles.”
“Water bottles?”
“Official police department water bottles,” Simon replied in an officious voice. “They have safety messages on them. Kids seem to like ’em.”
“And dentists approve.”
“Yeah. Also, one of my cousin’s sons has a zillion food allergies, so Halloween sucks for him. Everyone else is pigging out on chocolate, and he’s stuck trying to pretend he doesn’t care that he’s munching on apple slices. I figure there’s probably a lot of kids in his shoes, and I want them to enjoy Halloween too.”
Jesus. The core of kindness in this man was so solid and pure that Elliott was almost frightened by it. Elliott certainly didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a bad man, and he avoided harming others, but he’d spent his life mostly absorbed with his own wants and needs. He certainly didn’t go around worrying about homeless dogs or children with food allergies. Even Elliott’s neighborhood library was self-serving in a way: a method to reduce his clutter and diminish the guilt about his book hoarding.
“Want to do the thing together?” Simon asked, interrupting Elliott’s thoughts.
Elliott blinked. “Sure. There’s lube and—”
Simon laughed so enthusiastically he woke the dog and nearly spilled the remaining popcorn. “No! No! I mean, yeah, I want to do that too. Soon. But I was talking about Halloween. How about if I come over and we hand out treats together? It could be fun.” His expression was a little like Ishtar’s when she was hoping for food.
“What if one of your relatives sees us?”
Without even hesitating, Simon shook his head. “Let them. But it’s unlikely, actually. None of them live around here, and my Aunt Soso does this big party thing for the kids every year, which keeps them pretty busy. She thinks it saves them from razor blades in apples, and it doesn’t matter how many times I tell her that’s an urban myth. Besides . . .” He paused and scrunched up his face as if the rest was difficult to spit out.
“What?”
“It’s a baby step for me. I don’t know how much longer I get to have you, but while I do, I hate hiding. Maybe I’m not ready yet for Thanksgiving or Christmas together—you know, the big guns of holidays. Nobody spends those with a casual fling. But we can start with Halloween, yeah?”
Apparently something inside of Elliott had melted this evening. He wasn’t sure whether dinner had been the catalyst or the unexpected yet somehow welcome gift of Ishtar. Whatever the cause, Elliott felt pliant and gooey, like a piece of taffy laid out in the sun. He leaned his head against Simon’s shoulder.
“Halloween together would be nice.”
Chapter Fifteen
When they went to bed that night, Simon and Elliott were both sleepy. Ishtar must have been exhausted too—she watched them walk down the hallway without even raising her head from her bed. “I hope she doesn’t eat the house while we’re sleeping,” Elliott said as he closed the bedroom door.
Simon was too busy nuzzling him to respond with more than a hum. Pretty soon Elliott didn’t care what the dog was doing; he was intent on admiring Simon’s naked body in the soft light of the bedside lamp.
“You really don’t care about this?” Simon grasped and jiggled the bit of fat at his stomach.
“I thought we were clear. I like this.” Elliott smoothed his palm over the body part in question. “It’s sexy. You’re sexy. You’d be attractive if you lost twenty pounds or gained a hundred.” He meant that. Sure, Simon’s good looks and solid physique had initially caught his attention. But now that Elliott knew him, he’d never look at him and see anything but beauty.
They kept the light on while they explored each other’s body. This wasn’t like the ravenous fumblings of their first time—it was slow, languorous, and even a bit playful. Rather educational too, as Simon discovered Elliott’s ticklish spots and Elliott learned that Simon liked the gentle scrape of teeth across sensitive body parts.
Simon’s leg was a small impediment, restricting him from a few positions he clearly wanted to be in, but they improvised. Really, Simon sitting propped against pillows, kneading Elliott’s ass while Elliott knelt in front of him and received an excellent blowjob—neither of them was going to complain about that. And neither grumbled as they lay on their sides, Simon rocking inside Elliott with luxurious and excruciating slowness.
Elliott came first, pleasure washing through him warm and deep. Simon kissed his nape and thrust a few more times before reaching his own climax with a long, shaky sigh.
After they cleaned up a bit, Elliott opened the bedroom door, and Ishtar came into the room just before he switched off the light. She wagged her tail, turned in a circle a few times, and curled up near his side of the bed.
“You’ll have to get a dog bed for in here too,” Simon said sleepily.
“She’s going to take over my life, isn’t she?”
“She and I both will.”
That was a surprisingly agreeable thought.
***
Simon had to leave fairly early Sunday morning—it was his family get-together day, when his parents stayed home from work and cooked for him instead. He told Elliott that they’d watch football if it was on, or his father might find a soccer game instead. His parents would fill him in on the latest gossip and the restaurant goings-on, and they’d interrogate him about his recovery and future career plans.
“We kind of argue a lot,” he admitted. “Especially if we get started on politics. But it’s friendly arguing.”
They shared a long kiss at the front door, Simon spent a moment petting Ishtar, and then he walked to his truck. He’d never brought in his cane the night before, and without it his limp was worse.
Ishtar wasn’t too upset over Simon’s departure, but after she made a visit to the backyard, she was clearly eager for some excitement. She found the pile of toys Simon had brought and dropped a stuffed squeaky duck at Elliott’s feet. He looked down at her. “How about a run instead?”
He put on his sweats and shoes and attached the leash to her collar. Even though she seemed a bit confused while he stretched and warmed up, she caught on as soon as he started to jog. It had been ages since Elliott had run with a partner, and as it turned out, Ishtar made a perfect companion. She loped at his side with her tongue hanging out and her eyes glowing with the perfect joy only dogs seemed to achieve. She had an athletic body and made long, fluid strides. He had the impression she was humoring him—going easy on the poor, slow biped.
&
nbsp; They encountered only a few other people, mostly other runners. Elliott had seen most of them before, and usually they’d exchange nods and small smiles as they passed. Today, though, he found that the smiles were wider and aimed at Ishtar. One guy even called out “Nice dog!” as he ran by. Ishtar took the admiration as her due, focusing mainly on her pace. But she came to a skidding halt and nearly dragged Elliott to the ground when they met a young woman strolling with an elderly and somewhat stout beagle.
“Sorry,” Elliott said as he attempted to pull Ishtar away.
The beagle person didn’t seem alarmed. “It’s fine. She’s friendly.” Sure enough, Ishtar and the other dog were sniffing each other, tails wagging wildly.
“I just adopted her,” Elliott said apologetically through his panting. “We need obedience lessons.”
The woman was ruffling Ishtar’s ears. “Aw, she’s sweet. I bet she just needs a few behavior tips.”
A lot like her owner, Elliott thought. “We’ll learn together.”
“Have you taken her to the dog park?”
“Not yet.”
“There’s a nice one at Enslen Park. Ruby’s getting too old to want to hang out there, but I bet your dog would have a blast.”
“Thanks. I’ll check it out.”
They chatted a few minutes more about vets and pet-supply stores. The woman inquired about Ishtar’s name and breed. Elliott petted Ruby who, he learned, had arthritis and a thunderstorm phobia.
Having been thoroughly greeted, Ishtar was willing to continue the run. Elliott waved to the woman and Ruby. He and the woman had no clue about each other’s name, but they knew all about the other’s dog. That was funny and, in an odd way, sort of sweet.
As Elliott and Ishtar ran, she sometimes looked up at him, tongue lolling and eyes dancing. Isn’t this great? she seemed to be saying. Isn’t this the best?
Although she didn’t show signs of tiring, he didn’t want to overdo it. He wasn’t sure how much exercise she’d been having lately, and he feared her paws might get sore. So he stopped a mile sooner than usual and headed back home. When they got inside, she drank a lot of water, collapsed onto her bed, and was soon asleep.
For the next few hours, Elliott did gold-rush-era research. Although he found some materials online, it became clear he would eventually need to dig through original documents. He wondered if Simon might like to come with him to visit archives and libraries in the Bay Area. Simon could wander the campus or city with Ishtar while Elliott worked, and then they could find someplace for an alfresco dinner. That could be fun.
Feeling restless by the afternoon, Elliott decided he needed more supplies for Ishtar. A second bed, maybe some treats, a fancier collar because hers was boring. And a leash for when they ran; he didn’t like the handgrip on the one she’d come with.
Ishtar was hesitant about getting into the car. Perhaps she thought Elliott was going to take her back to the rescue people. But eventually, she climbed into the back seat and stretched out, staring at him mournfully. “It’s okay,” he told her. “We’re just shopping.”
To avoid any potential for more trauma, he didn’t take her to the same store where Simon had adopted her. That turned out to be a good decision, because after the briefest of pauses in the doorway, Ishtar began wagging her tail and dragging him inside. Laughing, he managed to wrangle her to the shopping carts, where he rapidly learned that steering a cart with one wrist attached to a large dog was a difficult task.
As for Ishtar, she was in heaven. She sniffed at the shelves and cocked her head at the tanks full of fish. She picked out two toys—a sort of stick made of tennis ball material and a giant squeaky hedgehog—and a chew thing that claimed to be good for her teeth. In the treats aisle, she looked enthusiastic over whatever Elliott threw into the cart. Like Goldilocks, she tried out a few beds until they found one that fit her just right.
All of this took considerable time because she also insisted on meeting every person and dog she saw. Elliott wasn’t sure he could have stopped her, but luckily nobody in the pet store seemed to mind being accosted by a big friendly dog. Everyone oohed and aahed over how nice she was, and while they petted her or watched her interact with their own dogs, they questioned Elliott about her. They treated him like a bona fide hero for adopting her. They gave him lots of unrequested and often conflicting advice. And since Elliott felt he ought to ask about their dogs too—it seemed polite—he learned all about a variety of breeds.
By the time they reached the cash register, Ishtar was still going strong but Elliott was exhausted. “Ooh, what a lover!” said the cute boy behind the counter, which startled Elliott until he realized the cashier was referring to Ishtar. The boy had dimples and pink-and-purple hair. Nobody else was in line, so he came out from behind the counter, knelt in front of Ishtar, and laughed when she rested her chin on his shoulder.
“She’s kind of a slut,” Elliott said apologetically.
The boy answered in a high-pitched, singsongy tone usually reserved for babies. “No! She’s just a great big sweetheart! Yes, she is!”
Judging from her expression, Ishtar agreed.
Eventually the cashier moved back to his post and began to ring up the purchases. His eyebrows rose when he got to her new collar, which featured glittery gold unicorns prancing atop rainbow stripes. “Looks like she’ll be ready for Pride next summer!”
“I can picture her leading a parade.”
“Will you be marching with her?” The boy batted his eyelashes shamelessly, which made Elliott roll his eyes. This kid was what? Twenty? Twenty-one?
“Maybe my boyfriend and I will both march with her.” And that was a fabrication, because he and Simon hadn’t put a label on whatever they were to each other. It was close, though, wasn’t it? The idea made Elliott feel almost melty again.
Looking slightly disappointed, the cashier finished ringing up and Elliott tried not to flinch at the total. Then the boy reached over the counter to give Ishtar some cookies. She licked his hand after she gobbled them.
It was a challenge to fit Ishtar and her new possessions into Elliott’s compact car. Too bad he didn’t have Simon’s truck. At least this time Ishtar hopped right in, then gazed at him with adoration and curiosity, perhaps wondering what adventure he’d planned next.
“Home,” he told her as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Dinner and work. Mmm, maybe a walk too.”
She recognized at least one of those words, and her tail thumped loudly against the seat.
“I’ve heard that dogs are a great way to pick up dates. I guess it’s true. I should have adopted you a long time ago. After John, though. That asshole didn’t like animals in the house. ‘Not hygienic,’ he said. Well, I bet you’re a lot more hygienic than whoever’s sharing John’s cell right now.” Every now and then, Elliott got some satisfaction from picturing his ex in prison. This was one of those times.
After unloading the car at home, Elliott checked the library. A couple of the children’s books had disappeared, but they’d been replaced by new ones. A young adult novel by Gregory Maguire was gone, and some kind of teenage vampire romance had taken its place. The little box’s popularity made him happy.
Elliott ate Pita Palace leftovers, giving Ishtar a few bits even though she’d just eaten a bowl of perfectly good dog kibble. “You have some things in common with Simon, you know. He’s really friendly with everyone, and he likes to eat. You both also have a lot of hair. Hmm. Wonder if he likes his ears rubbed.” And that led his thoughts all sorts of nice places.
Later, he was still so preoccupied with the images in his head that he ended up sitting in front of his laptop without reading a word. Until his phone buzzed, startling him.
Miss you.
Two short words—only seven letters, one space, and a period—and Elliott almost broke down and cried. Thinking of you, he texted back.
I’m sitting here with parents, watching TV. Don’t get me worked up. ;-)
After considering an
d rejecting the idea of sending his very first sext, Elliott sent instead: Had a good day with Ish. We ran & shopped. Good dog.
Told you so.
Wow. Elliott hadn’t realized it was possible to sound so smug via text. Still, he had to give credit where it was due. I peopled a lot more than usual today, thanks to Ish. Didn’t die.
Dog’s way better than a snail shell, huh?
Infinitely.
Chapter Sixteen
“You guys want to come over for dinner tonight?”
There was a lengthy pause at the other end of the line. “Are you okay?” Anna’s voice was hushed, as if she were speaking to someone who might keel over any second.
“I’m fine. But I never have you over. Besides, I have a small surprise.”
“Surprise?”
“It’s not severed heads, I promise. You’ll like it.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay. We’d love to. What can we bring?”
“Dessert.”
It was an unusually warm Monday in late October, so Elliott thought he’d grill some steaks. The grill itself had been a birthday gift from Anna and Ladd, but he rarely used it. Didn’t seem worth the fuss when it was just him. Today, though, he was in the mood. He went to the store and bought a salad trio: potato, macaroni, and green. He picked up steaks, a bottle of merlot, and because he couldn’t resist, yet another package of dog treats.
“Sucker,” he muttered as he tossed them into the cart.
Student papers had been due the night before, and of course most of them were submitted in the minutes before midnight. After putting away the groceries, Elliott slogged through the submissions patiently, correcting horrible writing and informing select writers that, no, California did not join the Union in the sixteenth century and the first European visitors were not from Germany. He paused a few times to let Ishtar into the backyard or to rub her belly. In between her bouts of exercise, she seemed inclined to nap. It was funny what good company a sleeping dog made.