by Trina Solet
"Your little nerd man should be happy," Bruce pointed out. "From what I saw, he likes your new guy."
"Miles is easy to like," Gavin said with a smile. "I just wish he was a little older, more settled."
"No way. A waspy, straitlaced guy like you needs a sweet, young thing to get his blood pumping," Bruce told him. "And to show you what a good friend I am, how about if Marvin and I host your little guy for a sleepover. That way you and Miles can go at it all night long."
Gavin couldn't resist an offer like that. "I think I'll take you up on that. Thank you," he told Bruce. "I'll owe you."
"It's for a good cause. Do me proud. Make an unholy mess of each other."
After Bruce went on his way, Gavin was left to wonder what he had gotten himself into. He was just letting things happen and Bruce was an enabler without a doubt. But maybe Gavin did need a little push.
His attempts at relationships had always been halfhearted. He was always ready to pull the ripcord and parachute out. That was before he got Benji. His little boy was the reason he should have been even more hesitant now. So what was he doing taking a chance on someone like Miles? And the way Benji took to him, that was both terrifying and wonderful.
When it came to Miles, Gavin didn't know how to let go. He would miss his loving touch, his laughing eyes, his sad smiles when he talked about his family, his persistence, and his easy rapport with Benji. He would miss Miles so much. He knew it would be unbearable.
If he lost Miles now, Gavin knew he would fall apart, and that scared him. That was unacceptable now that he was a dad. He would just have to make sure that nothing tore them apart.
When Gavin brought Benji to the store after kindergarten, he saw that he wasn't the only one who couldn't go a day without seeing Miles. Gavin wasn't expecting him for a while, but Benji was impatient for him to come over. Benji was sitting at the kids' table, his homework already done, eagerly looking toward the door and waiting for Miles to show up.
"Miles is late," Benji complained like he thought they had a standing, after school appointment.
"I told you he wouldn't be stopping by until later," Gavin reminded him.
"But we're homework buddies, and he isn't here. I had to do my homework all by myself." Benji put his head down on the table on top of his crossed arms and sighed, but as soon as he heard the door chime, he sat up straight to see who it was.
One look at Benji's face and there was no doubt who was coming through that door. He was beyond happy that Miles had finally arrived. Seeing Miles had put a goofy smile on Benji's face, but then he got serious again.
"You're late," he told Miles as he approached the little kids' table.
"Sorry. I was at a special lecture. That's like a class," Miles tried to explain as he kneeled down next to him and got his book bag off his shoulder.
"I was in class too. I'm not late," Benji said, deadly serious.
Since his excuse wasn't good enough, Miles tried again. "OK. Sorry. But my classes are farther away."
Benji tilted his head as he carefully considered if Miles should be forgiven. Finally he said, "OK. But I already did my homework without you."
"Too bad. What if we read something together?" Miles said and got a fat textbook out of his bag.
"You have to do your homework before reading," Benji told him.
Miles looked over at Gavin, recognizing one of his rules. "Reading is my homework. You can keep me company and read something too," he said to Benji.
Benji turned to Gavin to see if any rules were being broken. After he got the OK from Gavin, Benji opened up a book on his lap and scooted over to sit close to Miles.
"Thanks, Benji. You're one cool guy," Miles told him.
"Dad! I'm a cool guy," Benji said, spinning around to share the news.
"Of course you are," Gavin agreed.
"Is Dad a cool guy?" Benji asked Miles like he was some kind of authority on who was cool and who wasn't.
Miles looked Gavin over with a thoughtful frown. "Hmmm. He's OK," was Miles' verdict.
"Dad, you're OK," Benji informed him.
"I guess I'll have to be satisfied with that," Gavin said, but as soon as Benji ran off to go to the bathroom, he complained to Miles. "Would it have killed you to say I was cool?"
"Since when are you trying for cool? Someone gave you the name Gavin. Clearly you come from a long line of uptight people," Miles pointed out.
Gavin gave up and went over to tell Miles his news. "Bruce stopped by to invite Benji for a sleepover at their place tomorrow." He was going to say more, but Miles jumped in with a demand.
"No fair. I want a sleepover too," Miles said.
"I was getting to that. Tomorrow night you can have your sleepover as well as a home cooked meal. Will that satisfy you?" Gavin asked.
"Not quite. But what comes after that might do the trick," Miles said with a suggestive grin. He stood up off the floor and came up to Gavin to try and steal a kiss.
"Save it for tomorrow," Gavin warned him and put up a hand to stop him. His hand ended up pressed to Miles' chest. Miles took advantage of that. He grabbed hold of it and wouldn't let go. "Cool it. I still need to tell Benji. He loves staying at Bruce's. He gets to play with Marvin and Fuzzy. Full name Fuzzy Wuzzy."
"As I recall, Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear," Miles said.
"This one is a dog, a curly haired little mutt. Benji adores him."
"A dog?" Miles frowned in concentration and tapped his forehead. "I remember now. You promised Benji that he would get a dog one day. Get that child a dog pronto."
"A dog in our apartment, which doesn't even have a proper balcony, when both Benji and I stay at the store practically all day. I don't think so. The guilt would eat me alive. When I get a house, I'll get two dogs and they can keep each other company."
"Ambitious," Miles said, impressed by his grand plan.
"It's something to strive for," Gavin said. He didn't mention that when he pictured owning a house, it wasn't just him, Benji and two dogs. Now he pictured Miles there right alongside him. It was an irresistible image that made it impossible to deny how much he wanted Miles in his life.
Chapter 17
To pass the time on the evening he was going over to Gavin's for their date, Miles went by Candice's place. She had a date too and she was sitting at her makeup mirror, getting ready. As she applied mascara then blinked a few times, she told him, "Grab yourself a drink, but don't drink my last diet tonic water."
"Why would I want to?" Miles said. He went to her fridge to grab himself something that was actually drinkable and found a diet Sprite.
With the can of Sprite in his hand, Miles sat on the edge of Candice's bed and watched her put on makeup. It reminded him of watching his mom getting ready. When he was little, it made him feel close to her, like he was being let in on some secret. But it had been years since he felt close to anyone in his family.
Since becoming friends with Candice, Miles had seen the protracted, hair and makeup ritual countless times. She took high maintenance to a whole new level. When Miles first met her, he didn't think even for one second that they could be friends. He was scruffy. She was perfectly put together, like she was always ready to go straight into the pages of a fashion magazine. The one time he saw her looking low maintenance, it turned out she had food poisoning and he had to hold her hair while she threw up everything she ever ate. That was the day their friendship was cast in stone.
She told him, "You kept throw-up out of my hair. We are friends for life."
Her hair was long, sable colored and impossibly shiny. It swayed down her back as she checked herself in the mirror. Her little black dress, or date uniform, fit her to perfection. When she was all dressed up like that, she looked like someone whose name everyone should know.
She turned to Miles. "Tell me I look stunning."
Miles tilted his head and frowned critically. "You look OK," he said to tease her.
"You want to be wearing that Sprite?" she asked him.
"Dating is war, and makeup is my armor. I only let people I like see me without it. And I don't know if I like this guy yet."
"In that case, I feel privileged," Miles said and bowed in front of her as he stood up and went to throw the soda can in the recycling bin.
Ready to go, Candice was getting together the few things that would fit in her tiny purse after she put her phone in there. "We're meeting at Cafe Rombo. Expensive, but I'm worth it. I just don't know about him. I met him at Frida's party. He looks good in clothes. I'm still debating if I need to know what he looks like out of them, or if I would rather that remained a mystery," Candice told him as she checked herself one final time in the mirror by her front door.
"Sounds promising," Miles said sarcastically. He couldn't imagine being so undecided about a guy. But then his feelings for Gavin were like a punch to the gut, no indecision, just hopeless longing since the day he met him.
"And what about you and your guy?" she asked like she knew that's where his mind had gone.
"I'm not on the fence. I definitely want to rip his clothes off," Miles told her.
"With a kid around, isn't it hard for you guys to go off and enjoy each other's manliness?" Candice asked.
"You have a way of putting things. We find time, like tonight for example. And that's the reason I go over to the bookstore whenever I get the chance."
"Still, a guy with a kid. That's just a bunch of extra work. You should be more pragmatic like me," she told him.
"You're pragmatic now because no one has grabbed you by the heart."
She looked at him like he had said something terrible. "You better be wrong about that. If I get all gooey and marshmallowy like you..." she started to say but Miles interrupted.
"Oh. Thanks for reminding me. I need to get a pack of those marshmallow snow-dudes for Benji as stocking stuffers."
Candice pointed a long, festively painted fingernail at his face. "Listen to you. This is what I'm talking about."
"And thank you for talking about it. This way I won't forget to get them before they're all gone." Standing by her front door, they were both ready to go, so he asked her, "You want me to walk you to that café."
"You mean as a chaperone?"
"I could eyeball your guy menacingly, put him on notice." Miles gave her his best tough guy look.
"You are too sweet, but I like to do my own eyeballing and menacing." She batted her long eyelashes at him.
"True. You are scarier," he told her and then quickly ducked out of range so she couldn't hit him with her tiny purse.
Going outside into the cold of the evening, Miles pulled his jacket closer around him. Icy sidewalks, bare trees, a bone chilling damp in the air, it should have been a dismal time of the year, but Miles was the happiest he had ever been all thanks to Gavin and Benji.
As he passed a hot dog cart, the intoxicating smell of hot dogs cooking forced him to veer off in that direction. The guy rubbing his hands by the hot dog cart smiled at him as if to say, "I know you want one, big boy."
Miles did want one but he didn't want to spoil his appetite. Gavin was cooking for him tonight, so Miles moved on to the sound of his stomach growling.
He was hungry, chilled and happy by the time he arrived on Gavin's doorstep. "Hi, beautiful," Miles said to Gavin as soon as he opened the door to him.
Gavin didn't accept the compliment just shook his head and tried to throw it back at Miles. "That's my line."
As he stepped over the threshold, Miles leaned in for a kiss hello. Then he threw his arms around him and kept him from being able to close the door.
"Excuse me," Gavin said pointedly while restrained in his embrace.
"Don't let your guard down around me if you don't want to get steamrolled," Miles told him then stayed plastered against him.
"Let's get inside so I can cook you something," Gavin said knowing that the mention of food would get him released.
It worked. Miles followed Gavin into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, Gavin took out what he needed for the dinner he planned to cook. While Gavin moved around the kitchen getting ingredients and pots and pans, Miles felt no need to give him any extra room. In fact Miles made a point of crowding him as much as possible.
"I guess cooking is a full contact sport to you," Gavin said.
"I just want to be close in case you need a hand," Miles said and brushed a hand over his back and down to his ass.
"Yes. Very helpful," Gavin said with a grin. "Go get me one more egg."
Miles left Gavin alone reluctantly for the few seconds it took to get the egg. Then he was back to it. Sneaking over to Gavin at the stove, he stepped right behind him and encircled his waist with his arms. Kissing the back of his neck, Miles settled against him with a sigh. He didn't care if Gavin was immobilized.
"So this is how you help me out? It's like I'm in a straitjacket."
"You love it," Miles said but he did loosen his hold a little so he could do the all-important cooking. With great interest, he watched Gavin work.
He cracked the eggs into a bowl then whisked them with a fork. He then set up two other bowls, one with flour the other with Italian breadcrumbs.
When he mixed shredded parmesan into the Italian bread crumbs, Miles asked him, "Don't those breadcrumbs already have parmesan?" Miles picked up the package to check.
"I want extra," Gavin told him after giving him an amused look.
"I'm all for extra everything." The next step had Miles asking questions too. "You're cutting the chicken then breading it?"
Gavin was cutting the chicken into strips before dipping them in flower, egg then the breadcrumbs. "I want smaller, crispy bites. I'll fry them. They'll get crispy then they go into the pasta along with the roasted vegetables."
"Damn. You're killing me here," Miles said when they went into the frying oil and he smelled the savory breading starting to sizzle.
"I came up with this recipe just for you," Gavin said and smiled shyly. "I thought this was something you might like."
"You came up with this dish just for me? You are amazing," Miles said, touched by the gesture more than he could say, especially since it involved food. He hugged Gavin as fiercely as he could and kissed him. "I bet you weren't expecting to get attacked for it," Miles said when he let him go so the food wouldn't burn.
"Actually I was hoping to get attacked," Gavin said with a wicked look in his eyes.
Since he asked, Miles obliged him with another kiss. He couldn't keep that up if he ever wanted to eat though, so he mainly fondled Gavin while he cooked. The muscles of his shoulders and back shifting under Miles' hands as he felt up Gavin while he worked. A casual stroke here and there didn't impede him too much as he got the pot ready to boil pasta.
"What's this weird pasta called?" Miles asked while they waited for the water for the pasta to come to a boil.
Gavin picked up the bag to read the name. "It's trotolle."
"I would be more impressed if you didn't have to read it off the bag." Miles didn't think watching water boil was a good use of his time though. "I know how I can give you some space while the pasta boils. I need to steal stuff off your computer," he told Gavin. He needed to print up some pictures and put them in the photo album he got him as a Christmas gift.
"You will find surprisingly little porn on there," Gavin said, misunderstanding his intentions completely.
"For once in my life that is not what I'm after," Miles told him. With his permission, he printed up some pictures. It was fun picking out just the right photos, but Miles hoped he wasn't giving away the surprise completely.
"Would you like some wine?" Gavin asked him when he got back.
"Only if you want to watch me trying to pretend I like it."
"I can do without that," Gavin said.
While Miles was gone, things in the kitchen had progresse
d. Gavin had a big bowl out and he was putting the meal together.
"No sauce?" Miles said when he saw the vegetables and the chicken go into the pasta.
"Doesn't need it. You'll see," Gavin assured him. He was confident in what he was doing even as Miles bombarded him with questions at every turn.
"You obviously know what you're doing. I don't mean to question you," Miles said. He didn't want Gavin to think he was doubting his cooking skills. He was just curious.
"I don't mind."
He mixed some shredded parmesan into the pasta. Once pasta was served, he shaved off paper thin slices of parmesan and set them on top of the pasta on each plate. Miles watched the slivers curl from the heat.
"You aren't kidding around, are you? This is a thing of beauty," Miles said, impressed. He couldn't wait to get started. As he sat down, he grinned at Gavin. He really was incredible.
He was even more taken with him after he had a few bites of pasta. The breaded pieces of chicken were extra crispy. The roasted veggies were yummy all by themselves. If he didn't have to praise the chef, Miles wouldn't have stopped eating until he cleared his plate.
"You rule. If I wasn't already in love with you, this would do it," he told Gavin.
"In love?"
Miles realized this was the first time he had said the word. He was bound to blurt it out sooner or later. Even if he didn't mean to say it right then, now that it was out there, he wasn't about to take it back. "What? You cook this kind of thing for guys who aren't in love with you?" he challenged Gavin.
"You scare me," Gavin said while staring at him like he was afraid to blink. He had raised a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. Now he stood frozen and Miles got worried.
"In a good way, right?"
Gavin set his fork down and stood up from his chair. "In the best way," he said and came over to pull Miles up from his chair so he could kiss him.
Chapter 18
With dinner dishes in the dishwasher, Miles was helping Gavin with the pots and pans. Gavin was just going to leave them and do them himself later, but Miles insisted on pitching in.