“We are.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“This is the last of it,” Tristan huffed as he set the large cardboard box on the kitchen island. “Good thing neither of us had too much stuff to lug, or we would’ve needed to hire a moving van. I’m glad Monique lent us her SUV. She said she’ll be by in the afternoon to pick it up.”
Sean sat on the floor in the middle of the empty living room. “Yeah. I guess that flood helped in more ways than one. I sure as hell wouldn’t be bringing my flea-market furniture to this place.”
“Well, considering what happened to my stuff, I think starting fresh makes sense for both of us.”
Before leaving for London, he’d put a few of his larger pieces in storage, like his bed, dresser, and couch, but upon visiting the storage unit, he’d had to dump them. They’d collected a musty odor, and Tristan was certain they were swarming with bedbugs.
“We can buy new stuff together, now that you’re a successful businessman. Have I told you lately how damn proud I am of you?”
Sean’s cheeks turned pink. “You might’ve, but I don’t get tired of hearing it. I’m still in shock myself. I figured the city would be overrun with party entertainers for little kids, but I guess not.”
Tristan took two waters from the refrigerator. He opened both and handed one to Sean. “I think it’s the singing aspect. Most of them are clowns or face paint, and that’s run-of-the-mill. You bring something unique.”
The month in between closing on the condo and moving had been a busy time for them. Sean not only had parties on the weekends, but had continued his busking to bring in extra income. He still had the job at the restaurant as well, but he was contemplating giving it up. Juggling three jobs was becoming overwhelming, and too often he’d almost doze off mid-conversation. Plus, Tristan simply wanted more time with him. Always wary, Tristan insisted on knowing where he’d be, and after work, more often than not, he’d show up to surveil the crowd wherever Sean was. Once Sean finished, they’d go to dinner and do some shopping for the new apartment.
“I never dreamed I’d live in a place this nice. It’s something I’d only see in the movies or on TV, you know?” Sean ran his hand over the wooden planks. They’d spent a weekend sanding and staining them.
“Yeah. Where I grew up, it was mostly older homes. I think my grandmother’s house was one of the oldest. It was certainly the most run-down, that’s for sure. I don’t think I took a real hot shower until I moved to the city.”
Sean scooted over to lay with his head in Tristan’s lap, and Tristan played with the silky hair as Sean asked, “She couldn’t get anyone to fix it for her?”
“She didn’t want to spend the money from her SSI on that piece of crap house, she’d say.” He stared out across the empty, large space. “So she spent it on cigarettes. What I do know is, she sure as hell didn’t spend it on me.”
“You said there were no gay guys up there—at least that you knew about?”
His laugh was anything but humorous. “Yeah. It wasn’t the type of place where you could come out and think you’d be safe. There was no love is love or any of that. And even if I sensed someone might be like me, I’d never take the chance at a hookup.”
“Why? They were probably as scared as you were.”
“Possibly,” he admitted. “But I was too afraid of getting set up. Every once in a while I’d hear stories of guys getting beaten up, or worse, if they came on to the wrong person. Maybe some of my grandmother’s paranoia rubbed off on me.”
“So when did you lose your virginity?”
It was one of his most vivid memories. “We’d won the State championship in Syracuse, and the brother of one of the guys on the team went to Syracuse University, so we got invited to a frat party. There was booze for the taking, and everyone was drunk or high as hell.”
“You included? I can’t imagine you losing control like that.”
His fingers stopped. “I already told you, every time we’re together, I lose control.”
Sean turned and kissed his leg. “When you say things like that, I know why I fell in love with you. But go ahead. I didn’t mean to stop you.”
“To answer your question, I did get drunk. It was all a little overwhelming, so I went outside on the back porch to get away from the smell of weed and vomit. Then this guy joined me…”
“You’re one of the kids who came with Steve’s little brother. From the team that won tonight, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m Brian.” Dark, hungry eyes lingered on him, and Tristan’s heart pounded. Brian held up a whiskey bottle. “Feel like a shot?”
He’d never had whiskey before but didn’t want to seem like a baby. “I’m Tristan. Yeah, sure.” He took a slug and swallowed it. His eyes watered, but he managed without throwing up. His head spun from the smoke he’d inhaled and all the beer he’d chugged, and he swayed.
“Go on, take another one.” Brian moved closer until their chests almost touched. “Goes down smooth.” He leaned in close, and Tristan grew hard. “I bet you do too.”
He swallowed and allowed Brian to take his hand and lead him into the shadows of the backyard. Without warning, he was shoved through the door of a small shed, and Brian’s mouth slammed over his. Tristan groaned as hot hands grabbed his aching cock and rubbed.
