by Laurie Loft
“Is . . . something the matter?” Worried, Todd almost backed up, but Barry was clenched so tightly around him that it would likely hurt Barry if he pulled out.
“No, it’s good, Todd. I talk to him like this.” Lawrence went on encouraging Barry and rubbing his back.
Feeling ridiculous, Todd joined in after a moment, telling Barry that he was beautiful, that he was sweet, and he smoothed his hand up and down Barry’s spine and over the curves of hip and buttock and thigh till he felt Barry relax. Todd began to move, and his words lost sense until he was repeating over and over, “Oh, sweet, oh, sweet.” He began to thrust harder, and there was a strangled sort of noise from Barry, a muffled cry, which caused Todd to pause. “Have I hurt you?”
“Those are just his sounds, Todd, don’t worry.”
There was another cry, and Barry raised his head, the better to be heard. “Go, Todd!”
Lifting his eyes to his reflection, he found that he hardly recognized himself. Who was that buff, oiled young man with the long, tangled hair who appeared to be fucking two boys at once? He stared uneasily.
“Harder!” Barry begged, and Todd complied. Lawrence went on talking to Barry in an undertone. Todd caught the words I love you and heard them returned, and moments later Barry whimpered and shuddered in climax. Todd forgot that he had ought to save something for Lawrence, and he came in the next moment and stood, shivering and clutching at Barry. At last, Barry moved and rolled away, and Lawrence coaxed Todd onto the bed, and the three of them collapsed in a sweating, panting heap. It reminded Todd of how they’d dropped, laughing, to the floor during West Side Story, and it made him smile. Barry’s eyes were shut, and Lawrence smoothed Barry’s hair and kissed his forehead. Their devotion to one another was touching; it made Todd’s heart lurch. He pressed his free hand to his aching ribs and squeezed his eyes shut.
Lawrence was having none of that, however, and with complete confidence, he turned his attention to Todd and worked his wily ways to bring Todd up again. Minutes later, Todd found himself flat on his back, Lawrence straddling him and lowering himself onto Todd’s cock. He wiggled until he was comfortable, while Todd clenched his teeth with the effort of keeping still, and then Lawrence leaned back against Todd’s bent knees, spreading out his own legs on either side of Todd. Todd smoothed his hands up and down them, tickling Lawrence’s knees to make him squirm. Barry shifted to press his mouth to Todd’s neck, and kissed his way down chest and stomach to where he could take Lawrence’s cock into his mouth.
No one could expect this to last long, and it didn’t, and then Todd fell into an exhausted sleep, a pretty head nestled in the crook of each shoulder.
Todd awoke in the middle of the night to find that he was sleeping alone. Barry and Lawrence had curled up together like puppies, limbs entangled to the point where it was difficult to tell which belonged to whom. No one had bothered to get up and shut off the lights, and Todd crawled out of bed and trudged to the doorway, where he paused, hand on the switch, gazing at the tangle that was BarrynLawrence. The head of one rested under the chin of the other, and their faces appeared similar even in sleep, lips parted, eyebrows arched in the same expression of innocence. They’re like a duprass, Todd thought, remembering the Vonnegut-invented religion of Bokononism, a karass consisting of two people, their spirits and their destinies interwoven so tightly that there is no room for anyone else’s. Todd felt privileged to have basked in the reflection of such an enduring love. After a last wistful glance, he switched off the light, pulled the door to, and ambled down the hallway, gathering up his clothes as he went, easily plucking his more sober colors from among Barry’s and Lawrence’s bright clothing.
“Are you leaving?”
Todd straightened and turned around. A tousled Lawrence stood in the hallway, hugging himself and eyeing Todd.
“That would hardly be honorable.” Draping his clothes over one arm, Todd came back to place a hand on Lawrence’s shoulder and peck his cheek. “No, I wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.”
“Come back to bed,” Lawrence cooed. “Aren’t you cold?” He shivered, as if to demonstrate that he, Lawrence, was cold and it would be most unchivalrous of Todd not to warm him.
“In point of fact, I woke up chilled,” Todd said, and regretted the words as a look of guilty alarm crept over Lawrence’s face, his eyes shifting. Wanting to reassure him, Todd put his clothing-draped arm around Lawrence’s waist and brushed the fingers of his free hand over Lawrence’s cheek. “Thank you for . . . allowing me to stay the night, Lawrence. It isn’t something I’ll soon forget.”
“You didn’t stay the night,” Lawrence protested, leaning into Todd with a sigh, and tucking his head into the curve of Todd’s neck and shoulder. “Not until it’s morning. Come back to bed.”
Todd hesitated. The boys were sweet, but he missed Sebby. After all, he’d barely seen him all week. “Thank you, but I’m afraid I’m done in. Without an infusion of coffee and a breakfast of champions, I’ll be of no use to anyone.”
“That’s what you think,” Lawrence said, and Todd, feeling a playful hand creep near his privates, backed away. Lawrence regarded him, hurt and worry playing over his features, and Todd relented.
“I’ll come back to bed. To sleep,” he emphasized.
Satisfied, Lawrence led him off to bed, where two young men warmed Todd up in more ways than one, and it was some time before any more sleep occurred.
A batch of migas steamed in the frying pan, and Sebby’s teeth worried at his lower lip as he stirred with a wooden spoon. He hoped Todd would sleep late. He wasn’t an early riser like Sebby. He’d sleep late and then Barry and Lawrence would keep him busy for the morning, wouldn’t they? And Leo would be up soon, and Sebby would feed him migas, and he’d leave.
But wishes were like fishes—sometimes you caught them, sometimes they got away, and Sebby heard the front door slam. He jumped; his wooden spoon dropped to the floor. He ran to greet Todd and caught him in the living room. Could he somehow send him home? “You’re early. How’d it go?”
“Fine. Whose car is that in the driveway?” Todd’s smile was genuine, but there was a tightness about his eyes, not the way Sebby’s boys usually looked when they returned from B&L.
Everything faded into the background as Todd’s arms slid around him, and Sebby dropped his chin and pushed his nose into Todd’s throat. Todd smelled of Barry and Lawrence. To Sebby, it was a comforting smell, but he tensed and wondered if Todd could smell Leo on him.
“Mm, I missed you,” Todd said into Sebby’s hair.
“‘Fine,’ what’s ‘fine’?” No one had ever said fine after a night with them. “Did you like them? Did they like you?” He opened his eyes and noticed for the first time the mottled flesh of Todd’s neck, bruised up and down—on both sides, he saw as he tipped his head. He must have had a good time! Sebby pressed his finger to a bright mark, and Todd shivered. He nuzzled Sebby’s hair, not in a seductive manner, but like a cat seeking comfort.
“I can’t speak for them, but I think I carried myself well enough.” He sighed. “To me, it was rather a lonely thing. Once they had me primed, their attentions were all for each other.”
Lonely! A rope of good curse words uncoiled in Sebby’s head. “Did you come straight here? Do you need to go home?”
“I’m yours for the day.”
Sebby fidgeted.
Todd sniffed. “Do I smell migas? It’s ambrosial. Jesus, I’m ravenous. Whose car is in the drive?”
“Yes, migas. I need to go stir it.” He pulled away, glancing at the stairs as he passed them. No sign of Leo yet. Todd followed him into the kitchen. “Do you need to go home and check in?” That was how Todd always put it: check in. “Do you need to go home and shower and change?” The migas had scorched, and Sebby tsked, pushing the skillet away from the burner.
“I wasn’t going to stop at home. I thought I might soak in the tub.” He paused in the act of opening a cupboard. “Is that all right?” Th
ere was another pause as he placed two plates on the kitchen table. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
Sebby, his back to Todd, pushed the knuckles of one hand into his teeth. With an effort, he put a teasing note into his voice. “You caught me, Toddfox. I got used to being alone all week. It’s hard to adjust.” He turned and flashed him a smile. “Let’s eat out on the deck.” He could sit Todd down with the migas and then go shoo Leo out of his house.
But Todd wasn’t moving. He stared at Sebby. “What is going on?” And then, sharply, “Sebastián. Whose car is in the drive?”
Sebby snatched a tortilla and began shredding it, letting the pieces drop to the floor. Todd gaped. Drawing a deep breath, Sebby lifted his eyes to meet Todd’s. “It’s Leo’s. I got scared last night, and I called him to come over.”
“Leo was here? He’s still here?” Todd shook his head. “If you were scared, why didn’t you call me?”
“How could I?” Sebby flung the rest of the tortilla into the sink and turned back to seize the skillet. He scooped a large measure onto each plate. “After making such a big thing about you going with them, how could I call and make you come back? You would’ve thought I was crazy.”
“I’d have thought you were scared! I’d have thought you . . .” Todd’s throat worked as he swallowed “. . . wanted me.” His eyes fell to regard the migas on his plate. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and they both turned to see Leo entering the kitchen. Washed and dressed, every hair in place, he could have stepped from the pages of Esquire, if not for the whiskey stain down his shirtfront. He eyed Todd with clear disapproval, and Todd’s eyes went from Leo to Sebby and back.
“You’re not hungry, are you Leo? You’re never hungry in the morning.” Sebby could’ve bitten his tongue for this slip-up. Never in the morning, chingados!
“Starved.” Leo dropped an arm around Sebby’s shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Sebby stepped away.
Todd opened his mouth to speak, then his jaw snapped shut. Sebby thought he heard the clack of his teeth. Todd strode from the room, and Sebby glared at Leo. “¡Siéntate, chingados!” He pointed at a chair, and Leo sat down and helped himself to migas. Sebby hurried after Todd, calling his name, and came to an abrupt stop in the living room. Todd stood in the middle of the room, looking around as if bewildered.
“Tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”
He couldn’t lie, not about this, not to Todd. “I slept with him.”
Todd’s chin hit his chest, but then he lifted it hopefully. “You mean long ago?”
Sebby’s insides were dying. “I mean last night.”
“Jesus, Sebby!” Todd collapsed onto the sofa and dropped his head into his hands.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to be hurt. I . . . It doesn’t mean anything.” Sebby reached to touch Todd’s shoulder, and at least Todd didn’t pull away.
“If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you say so? You didn’t need this subterfuge; you didn’t have to farm me off to them. I would’ve stayed away, I—” His voice cut off.
It was Sebby’s turn to gape. “No! That didn’t have anything to do with it, I didn’t plan for it, didn’t mean for it to happen. I just got scared, so scared that I couldn’t be alone, and I called Leo for company. That’s all.”
Todd raised his head. “I don’t understand. The movie frightened you? You watch those things all the time, you told me they’re fun.”
Sebby hesitated. “A . . . a girl in the movie fell and broke her leg, and it reminded me of when I broke my arm.” This was such a terrible lie that he squeezed his eyes shut. It was a lie in which the truth was hidden, for the memory of his broken arm had frightened him; oh, why couldn’t Todd just drop it! “It’s just that I needed someone, and you weren’t here.”
“I wasn’t here because you pimped me out to them!” His voice rose, he pushed Sebby away, and he stood and headed for the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back as if he had more to say, though he just stared.
“I know it’s my fault; I didn’t mean that it was your fault that you weren’t here, that you were gone.” Sebby was babbling, and now Leo’s footsteps were approaching from behind.
“Everything all right?” Leo said, and Sebby could imagine him giving Todd a warning look, but Sebby didn’t dare take his eyes from Todd, who was now staring at Leo with an indescribable expression on his face. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t jealousy—Sebby didn’t know what it was.
“Leo, go away!” Sebby begged.
“Your boy had a bad fright last night. You—”
Sebby cut him off with a warning shout: “Leo!”
“He told me,” Todd said.
Leo’s voice was calm, steady. “He needed you, and you weren’t here.”
Todd flushed a dark red. “I find it quite fascinating to hear that from you, as it wasn’t long ago that Sebastián told me, in no uncertain terms, that he did not need me.”
Sebby buried his face in his hands and groaned.
“There’s no reason to be angry,” Leo said in a reasonable tone. “He wasn’t doing anything you weren’t doing.”
The flush drained from Todd’s face. His mouth opened. Sebby could hear his indrawn breath, but whatever he intended to say, no words came out. His mouth closed. He scrubbed his hand over his forehead, through his mussed hair, and across his lips. “Right, then.”
He turned to go, feeling his pocket for his keys.
This was out of control. And Sebby did not like out of control. And it was silly, and Todd was overreacting, and Leo was overprotective. “Todd, sit! Leo, I’m walking you to your car.”
Todd, looking lost, obeyed, and Leo followed Sebby outside. Sebby marched out to Leo’s Nissan, which seemed even sleeker and blacker next to Todd’s ugly, rusted truck. The remote entry chirped as Leo pressed it, and Sebby opened the door and held it for Leo. “I misled you.”
“Oh?”
“Last night. I wanted you to sleep with me, and I let you think Todd was . . . a lowlife. I think. So you’d feel sorry for me. And he isn’t. I know you’re old-fashioned and you don’t like when my boyfriends go with Barry and Lawrence, but Todd didn’t even want to go! I nagged him till he went, because he won’t forget his ex, and I’m so tired of fighting his ex all the time, Leo, so tired.”
Leo’s eyes rolled heavenward, and he heaved a sigh. “Making your boyfriend sleep with your friends won’t bring him any closer to you.”
Sebby grimaced. Leo didn’t understand the situation, the whole Vivian thing. He didn’t know what Sebby was going through.
Todd hadn’t really liked it, though. He’d called it lonely. What if . . .
“I should apologize to Todd.” Leo turned back toward the house, but Sebby hastily blocked his path.
“No, Leo. I’ll tell him for you. It was all my fault anyway, not yours.”
Leo frowned, but he climbed into his car and pulled the door shut. The engine came alive, and the window slid down. “If you care for this one, you shouldn’t treat him like he’s disposable.”
Sebby’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t! It just—”
“I’ll leave the two of you to figure out what to do with each other,” Leo said. “And leave me out of it.”
The window went up, and the car glided out of the driveway. Sebby bent his head, set his jaw, and marched back into the house.
On the sofa, Todd slumped, head in hands. He lifted his head as Sebby entered, and Leo’s apology died in Sebby’s throat. Todd’s face was contorted; it was an expression Sebby had come to think of as “the Vivian look,” the look of a man being ripped inside out. Sebby was the cause of it, and euphoria made the blood rush to his head.
If Todd could look like that because of Sebby, it could only mean one thing. Todd loved him. Not a little, a lot. Real love. You jump, I jump. You had me at hello.
“Todd,” he said, and he had to clear his throat and say it again. “Todd.”
“I can’t do this.” Todd’s eyes
glimmered.
Oh, he couldn’t bear it if Todd cried because of him. He nearly leaped to get close to him, to sit down and wind his arms around Todd’s arm, half expecting him to try an escape. But Todd sat there like his life was over and nothing that ever happened to him again could matter.
“Can’t do what?” Sebby asked gently.
“I can’t—” Todd hesitated before continuing “—do this kind of relationship.”
“What kind, sweetheart? What do you mean?” Sebby had never called Todd sweetheart; it was Todd’s word, and it was an odd enough thing that Todd’s eyes met Sebby’s briefly before averting.
“An ‘open’ relationship. Whatever you want to call it. Both of us fucking whomever we want. I can’t do it.”
That was a gross overstatement of revenue. But Sebby let it go. “I know.” He raised one hand in order to smooth Todd’s rough, tangled hair.
“It’s not in my nature.”
“I know.” Sebby kissed Todd’s temple, and Todd’s eyes squeezed shut, too late to stop the tear slipping out. Sebby’s heart contracted around a core of broken glass.
“I’ll say good-bye, then.” He tensed as if to rise, but Sebby tightened his hold and kissed away the tear.
“No. Stay,” he murmured against Todd’s cheek as he pressed closer. “I shouldn’t’ve made you go with them. I was stupid. And I—I didn’t mean to sleep with Leo. I just wasn’t thinking, I was so scared. I just . . . Mierda, I wish I could take it back. More than anything.” Todd turned away, and Sebby bit his lip. “I don’t want to fight. I think we both want the same thing, if we would just say it, and so I’ll say it.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I want you to live here. Move in with me. Stay with me every night.” He held his breath and waited on what seemed like the edge of everything for Todd to answer.
Todd sat very still, and neither one of them breathed for minutes and minutes. “What sort of invitation is that? An insurance against further incidents of infidelity?”