“You arenotlike Paolo.”
“I am, Sir. You didn’t know me when I was abusing drugs, but I can promise you, I am just like him.”
“Did you fuck him?” I ask and he pulls back, stricken.
“No, of course not.”
“Then we are even, because I also didn’t fuck any pretty Grecian boys, though there was the strongly worded suggestion by an irate Grecian man that I go shit on my mother.”
Gio frowns. “Your mother is a saint. Did you find a new supplier?” He stopped answering my calls before I could tell him the good news.
“Yes, and we are going to look for more in Italia, later in the year during fall when it’s harvest time. You will come with me. We’ll tour Calabria, that’s the toe of the boot, and you will learn about the process of extracting oil from the olive. There will be a test.”
He nods but his eyes are still sad.
“What’s the matter? You don’t want to go with me?”
“No, I really do. I just remembered that you said you were going to give me a very special surprise if I was good, and I’m sad because now I won’t get it.”
“Ah,” I say, excited for this. I sit up straighter and clear my throat. In my very choppy, heavily accented English, I say, “Hello, beautiful baby, my name is Silvio Fortuna. I like your blond hair and your ass is very bouncy. Would you like to offer me sexual pleasure?”
Giovanni blinks, then cracks a wide smile. “Yes, Sir, I would.”
“I like this,”Gio says to me the next afternoon. We have spent the past two days together, inseparable, and I have just made love to him in our bed. My boy is well used, lying contentedly in my arms and being terribly sweet with his cuddles. From his throne on the wall, Valentin watches our tender reunion, his expression inscrutable.
“What’s that? Being stuffed with the essence of a hot Italian stud?”
He kisses my cheek shyly and tugs on the rope. “I like being tethered to you.”
It’s a big confession for him to make, to speak from the heart. Physical intimacy he offers readily, but heartfelt words are not as forthcoming.
“Me too. I think we should do this whenever I return home from the mainland. It will be like one of those leashes for toddlers, to help me keep an eye on you.”
“It will definitely make it harder for me to get away.”
“And much easier for me to catch you. You know you can come with me when I go to Napoli for work.” I’ve told him this many times before, but he’s always resisted.
“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself, Sir. I wouldn’t want to get in your way, and all my routines are here.”
“We could develop new routines, and if you went to school, you’d have plenty to do in the daytime.”
“Sir.”
I hold up both hands. “Just an idea.”
He sits up in bed and stares out the window to where the sun is just starting to set, highlighting the gold in his hair and bathing his bare skin in fiery orange hues. “I mean, what would I even study?” he asks.
“Anything you want.”
“But for what purpose?”
“For the pursuit of knowledge, to meet new and interesting people, to let your ideas be heard, to enrich your mind.” I tap his temple.
He frowns a little and says, “I don’t want to fail, like I did before. I don’t want to embarrass myself or embarrass you.”
“That is your pride talking, Giovanni, and perhaps also your fear. It is preventing you from taking the risk. I understand that you are anxious about trying new things, but so what if you fail? If your Master were here, he’d just bribe your professors into giving you high marks.”
“Sir,” he admonishes with a smirk and glances over at my brother. “Do you know that he paid Mr. Maggio to hire me at the stationery shop?” I shake my head because of course he did. Gio says, “He probably had to pay him extra every time I made a fool of myself in front of the customers.” He sighs and his pretty brow furrows. “What if the professors are mean to me?”
