by David Connor
I guided him slowly through the door like that—walking backward. Then I threw him forcibly onto the bed, down on the quilt, my late-night snack, and all the papers. I chucked him hard enough to make everything bounce.
“You going to tie me up again?” he asked.
“You can’t put your arms around me if I do.”
“No.” Mathias yanked me down to his side, where after a tussle, he wrapped me tightly in his muscular embrace.
“Dev will be so happy we’re back together.”
“Yeah?”
“For real. My whole family. I can’t wait to tell them. Your parents….”
“What about them?”
“I bet they’ll be as unaccepting as Captain Falcon’s.”
“Captain Falcon?”
“The tatted guy who can’t date white guys.” I tried to roll away. “Yours will think I’m not good enough for you too, I bet. Maybe not white enough.”
“Reed….”
“It’s true.”
“It’s not.” I was pushing him figuratively, and he was pushing back literally, bending my arms to the mattress. “Who’s testing who now?”
“Maybe.”
“Stop putting on the brakes. There’s nothing to be afraid of, not right here and right now.”
“I might not be very good.”
“You might be a sexual beast.” He bit my tummy.
“Ow.”
“Maybe not.”
We exchanged shy glances, and then I showed him what a beast I was by rolling on top of him and pinning his arms to his sides with my inner thighs. “I heard your mom on the phone one time, talking about some girl who was knocked up while still in high school.”
“You heard my mother say ‘knocked up’?” He tried like hell to flip me off, but I held on, refusing to let him.
“I don’t remember the words, just the superior air of repulsion.”
“I think you misjudged that conversation.”
“Really?”
“Fine.” Mathias finally flipped me onto my back so he was on top. I finally let him. “Is this our last hurdle? One we have to talk about before we finally fuck? Okay. My parents disapprove, Reed.” He rolled off, off me, and then off the bed, until he stood beside it, his head turned away. “Like Romeo and Juliet, whatever will we do if our families take to warring?” The back of his hand slapped his forehead in dramatic fashion. “Don’t they understand our love is more important than the difference in our bank accounts?”
“You’re being an idiot.” Though I didn’t hate the part where he flounced about naked and feigned a dead faint onto the bed, I was never a fan of being mocked.
“You know what?” Mathias knee-walked back to me. He clamped my legs with his and rested the part of him I wanted my mouth on just above my pulsating cock. “I wish my parents took that much of an interest in who I dated. They never once asked about us, even when you lived in our house. One time, I put your underwear in my bed with mine. I wanted to see if the housekeeper would report back—if she’d tattle. No one ever said a word.”
“Bro….”
“Another day, when my sheets were messed up and your bed wasn’t slept in, because we stayed up all night talking and almost having sex….” He toyed with my nipple. “I put three condom wrappers on the floor.”
I almost laughed. “So in pretense, we’ve done it at least three times.”
“In one night. They write checks for swimming. Mother comes now—never Father—but do we talk about it? No. I mean, I’ve gotten a ‘Way to go!’ and a ‘That-a-boy!’ but never a ‘Do you get nervous before a meet?’ ‘Are you still enjoying yourself?’ ‘We miss you since you’ve moved to Arizona.’ I’d love to hear that one.”
“Oh.” I rubbed his cheek. “I love this. And my mama misses you.”
That made Mathias smile. “And Devon?”
“Oh, man.” I flipped him, taking both his wrists. “You have no idea. He gets attached to certain people and won’t let it go. He has a luncheon this weekend for Special Olympics. He asked if you were coming. He asks me every time I see him when you’re coming—when we’re going to be together again. Maybe he’s the smartest one of the three of us… always truthful, never giving up on what he thinks is right.”
“I remember your father reciting that quote, the one like, ‘If you love something, set it free. If it comes back…’”
“I’m yours forever.”
“Are you really?”
“I am.” I pressed my naked body into his, every inch of it, from toes to forehead. “I’m never giving up on us again.”
The kisses that followed were wild. We put our mouths on one another, tempted by and tempting certain parts, but not lingering in any one place very long. It was sweet, palpable torture, as I wanted his cock in my mouth or his lips around mine, or maybe against my hole. I wrestled with him some more, grabbed his head and bent him down so I could press it to my hard dick. He was ready to go, I could tell, but then I changed my mind. I got under, almost like I had in his pool so long ago, and forced his legs up into the air to get at his ass. A sheet of paper had stuck to him there, where I wanted to put my face to his flesh.
“Pile of crap! Help me clean off the bed.”
“What is all this? Schoolwork?” He grabbed some loose paper.
“No. Swim stuff—sponsors—records of incoming and outgoing cash. I figured it was about time I take an interest in it.”
“Ah.”
I stood, and Mathias barked out a laugh.
“What?”
“This.” He peeled one off my backside. “Oh.”
“Oh what?”
“Nothing.” He crumpled it up.
“Hey! I need those.”
“Not this one.” When I reached for the scrunched-up paper, he threw it.
“Okay. You’re being weird.” When I moved to go pick it up, he beat me to it, over in the corner. “Mathias.”
“What?” He held it over his head.
“Give it.”
He wouldn’t.
“Mathias!”
I put him up against the wall again. Though we were both still naked, it wasn’t for fun this time. “What is it you don’t want me to see?”
“Don’t get mad.”
Whenever anyone said that me, I automatically did.
18
I STOOD in the doorway and watched Mathias dress. I was beyond mad. I was pissed, and I waited until he was tying the last shoe before I spoke. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving. We’re done again, right? In a fight? Breaking up, because of a bunch of meaningless numbers on a pile of paper?”
I didn’t answer but went instead to the dresser for a pair of flannel pajama pants, nearly missing my chance to stop him. “Wait!”
“What?” He was out in the hallway.
“Don’t.”
“It took you long enough.” His hand was on the doorknob, about to close it from the wrong side. “Jesus.”
“I got stuck in my drawstring. Long pants are complicated.”
“I thought you were going to let me leave again.” He tried to kiss me.
“I can’t.” I turned away. “It feels wrong now. Like… like you bought me.”
He gruffly brought me back around. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”
“I know, but that’s how it feels. Coach Keller told me once to buy a hooker. I guess you think you got one.”
“Reed….” He had me by the elbow. “Coach… what?” Mathias grunted. “Never mind. I don’t even get where the sex part of it’s coming from.”
I reclaimed my arm and walked away. Not too far, but away. Not back into my apartment, but a short distance down the hall. “Yeah, I guess not, because all these years you were paying my way for no return. You want my ass?” I offered it to him. “At least that way you’ll be getting some sort of payback.”
“Reed, pull your pants up.” He was at my side again. “Better yet, don’t.”
I stopped him
before he got at the front of me. “I’m not a fucking charity case.”
“Who said you were?”
“You always thought I was,” I said rather loudly.
“You did.”
“You’re right. And I am—indebted to many. I accepted that this morning—before I knew to whom.”
A coed with no top on poked her head out the apartment door next to mine.
“We’re causing a scene.”
“You knew,” I asked. “Right?”
He didn’t answer.
“Tell me!” I yelled.
Mathias shook his head. His shoulders went up. He was obviously nervous. “I have to pee.”
“Then come inside.” I entered the apartment. He didn’t. “Did you know?”
“I guess.”
“You guess.”
“All right. Yes,” he shouted. “I asked them to keep paying even after I left.”
The girl and her boobs made another appearance. “We’re fine,” I told her. “Will you come in?” I said to Mathias.
He finally did, but the door stayed open.
“So, basically, you’ve been paying my way this whole time… the pool rental, Coach Keller, Cloud-ia and her hourly rate, travel upgrades and special fees, fucking ‘incidentals,’ whatever that is. Like, the medicine for my jock itch? It’s been Webber money from the start… and still. My biggest sponsor… is you. Asshole.”
“What difference does it make if it’s my parents or our fourth-grade teacher?”
“It’s not them. It’s you. And that makes a ton of difference.”
“How? Why?”
“You know why. With everything you confessed to me tonight, this would have been included, except that you knew how much it would piss me off.”
“Yeah.” He kept dancing from one foot to the other and was awfully antsy. “Exactly.”
I shook my head. “Go pee before….”
“I’m not going to wet my pants.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“What, then? Before what? Before you throw me out?”
I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t offer one, so Mathias went to the bathroom. I read more papers while he was gone, row after row with Webber followed by dollar signs and numbers, some with four digits.
“I am mad, Mathias.” I hit him with the stack as he returned. I threw them, and they exploded like a paper bomb upon impact against his body. “This was something… from the very beginning with us. And for years—fucking years—every time we spoke, you lied to me.”
“I’m not denying that. But it’s only money.”
“Not to someone who doesn’t have any.”
“So, it’s a pride thing? Like you’re ashamed of where you come from?”
“Don’t you ever fucking say that.”
“I agree. It’s ridiculous.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. Not any of those.”
“I’m sorry, Reed.” He was grabbing at my arms, like before, but this time I wouldn’t let him catch me. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“Maybe you never can. Like you claim you can’t feel love, like I can’t feel what it’s like to really be black like my brother and Cal, maybe you can’t feel what I’m feeling right now.”
“Explain it to me, then.”
Nothing came out of me except heaving breaths that hurt. I grabbed the offending sheet of paper, the one that came between us yet again, and tore it in half. Apparently Coach Keller just sent them invoices or bills and they paid—or maybe not them. Maybe an accountant just did it all. Eventually the halves became too small to tear anymore, and I had to turn my anger back at Mathias. “I’m not taking any more.”
“Reed, be reasonable.”
I stomped toward the bedroom. “Tell them to stop.”
“You need that money. You’ll never get to Rio without it.”
“Do I have to share the wins, then?” I asked from the doorway.
“You had me stay to spout bullshit like that? If that’s how this is going, I may as well leave.”
“I had you stay because I’m trying really hard to be that guy I promised a few minutes ago I could be.”
“And…?”
“And… if it was anything except this, I think I could just let it go.” I took a breath. “It’s late. I’m fucking exhausted.” I headed for the bed again. “Unplug the wax thing.”
“We’re done?”
“For now. I’m going to sleep.”
“Where am I going?”
I didn’t answer until I was under the covers. “That’s up to you. The side next to the wall if you’re staying.”
“Huh?”
“I have to sleep on the outside.” I wanted to see his expression, but I didn’t glance back. His shadow moved about, and then he started to strip after tending to the waxing stuff and shutting off all the lights. I imagined a similar routine we would follow every night when we lived together full-time—the lights, not the wax. He’d be the one to turn off the TV, all the lamps, lock the door, and feed the cat. We’d definitely have a cat. My heart felt full, but my gut burned with resentment.
“Keep your underwear on.” I shut him down.
“They’re yours again.”
“Whatever.”
“No sex?”
“Nope.” It was a time-out, like Beth used for Shemar and Desiree. Mathias needed to think about what he’d done at least until morning, as I thought about my stubbornness and passive-aggressive ways. At least that was the plan. If I considered it a competition, even if the anger waned, I’d be able to hold out. No matter how many times his hard cock tempted my ass—and it already was—I’d be damned if I would give in and take it up inside me.
WE BOTH tossed and turned. I spent a lot of time staring at the closet door. I had never noticed how red it got from the digital clock, because usually I was facing the other way, and usually I was asleep. The last time I recalled was 3:40 a.m. I must have drifted off, because I awoke wrapped in Mathias’s arms and wet and sticky in my pajama pants. It had been a great many years since I’d had a wet dream, but I was pretty sure that was what had happened. An entire night edging, something had to give, and it did.
“Mmm. Good morning.”
All the money in the world couldn’t prevent morning breath, but I didn’t really mind it. “Morning,” I said back, pressing into him with my hand on his lower gut. “You too?”
“What?” He smacked his lips a couple of times, then rubbed against my palm at his crotch. “Oh.” It wasn’t an exclamation, but rather a realization. The front of him was cool and wet too, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it had felt like when hot. “I think I need a shower.”
“Me too.” Neither of us moved, though, from our warm, comfy, sticky embrace.
“Together…. Or are you still mad?”
Am I? That was the question.
“Do you have time for coffee?” Mathias asked. “I could go get us some.”
“Not really. Sorry.”
“Okay. We’ll do lunch,” he offered.
I had sat up. My feet touched carpeting. I was making progress toward getting out of bed.
“I have to leave this afternoon to head back, but maybe I can fly you out the weekend after next… between the qualifier and team camp. Vegas is really close. We could swing by in an afternoon and be back to train by morning. The facility I’m at is amazing. We could be bicoastal… flitting back and forth.” He kissed the back of my neck and then continued talking about things I couldn’t afford. “I’ve been thinking about where I might like to go after Rio—where we can go for a vacation. Maybe someplace cold. I wonder where it’s cold in August.”
“Hey.” I twisted at the neck to shush him with a kiss. “Go start the shower. I’m sure you have to pee.”
“Ha-ha.” He came around me, almost all of his body in contact with mine as he did. I closed my eyes to cherish how it felt. “I kind of do, though,” he said. “Be right back.”
> When Mathias disappeared into the bathroom, I grabbed a set of sweats and my bag. I glanced back once, and stopped to hear him singing Selena Gomez’s “Hands to Myself” in falsetto. Closing the door on it was hard, and I thought of driving back ten times on my way to the swimming facility, once more as I let myself in with the key I’d been given, and again while I showered, and then got my suit on. I was in the water by the time Coach Keller arrived.
“Early bird. Good to see.”
Within minutes, I had reached my best time twice. When I came up the second time, Mathias was standing back by the door. The guy had balls.
“You two fucking?”
“None of your business. As long as I think I can fuck and still swim fast, I’m a grown-ass man who can do what he wants.” I said all that as I climbed from the pool.
He checked the history on the digital timer at the end of the pool. “Works for me.”
“I’m pissed at him… just so you know. And at you too.”
“The money thing,” Mathias said as he approached.
“Oh.” That was all Coach had to offer.
“I probably owe the college some now too, for the hole in the wall in your office and a new mouse for the computer. Add it to my tab.”
“So you’re not going to quit over it?” Coach asked.
“Nope. I’m going to pay them back. The only way I can do that is win, and then get a huge endorsement deal. I need you for that. I’m not taking any more, though. And I’m not fucking you until it’s all paid back.” That part was obviously aimed at Mathias.
“Reed, that’s ridiculous.” That was his response.
“Maybe we’re ridiculous. Again this morning, you’re talking about flitting around the world and living on the other side of the country. I’m not leaving my family. And my favorite part of jetting all over the place for competition is when I get to come home.”
“I was just talking… fantasizing.”
“Then we have different fantasies. Maybe we’re incompatible. I’m taking five,” I said to Coach. “Whichever one of you is in charge of the Webber fund, cut it off.”
I headed for the locker room but stopped outside the door to catch my breath.
“Wow,” I heard Coach say. “I guess we knew it was coming.”