I’m supposed to move on from this and fall for someone else soon, but every touch from Rafael just makes me love him more.
CHAPTERELEVEN
RAFAEL
The next morning,Alexander takes us out for a late breakfast before my first day as an apprentice. He picks a place not far from the shop so I can go right there, his way of making sure I’m not late, which I appreciate, even though it makes me a little self-conscious about my disorganization.
I did set about twenty alarms this morning, though, so I’m trying.
We’re at the café, and right as our coffees arrive, I admit to myself how different this feels.
Alexander is dressed for work, his short-sleeved gray shirt fresh and crisp, the tie in a perfect knot. He gestures with his delicate hands while he talks, smiling. He could look so serious, buttoned up, but somehow his warmth shines through.
He’s handsome, but it’s the apples of his cheeks, the soft curve of his lips, and the way his ears just slightly stick out that I really love. And as we order our food and talk about the latestStar Trekepisode, it feels like I’m seeing him differently.
I want to touch Alexander. I want to go and sit on the same side of the booth as him, bump our tattoos together, and rub his thigh while we drink our coffee. It’s always nice to touch him, but this is different.
I’m horny for Alexander. Whoa.
“I was thinking about the con next weekend,” Alexander says, pulling me from my thoughts. The several plates of breakfast sides that we’re sharing fill the booth between us. We’re by the windows, with people passing on the sidewalk, but there’s not really anyone sitting near us. “There’s some animation stuff showing that Matty wants to see. Have you looked at the schedule?”
I shake my head. “I think I just want to browse like usual.”
Some of our friends spend the whole comic book convention running around, trying to meet actors and catch the cosplay shows and watch superhero blockbusters before they’re released to the non-geeky public. But I pretty much always spend the time digging through overstocked booths on the sales floor. I scour for weird old publications, illustrations and strange sci-fi that will spark new ideas for my drawings. Alexander has a similar curiosity, so he always joins me.
“You’re supposed to meet up with Davis, right?” I ask, remembering.
Alexander drags some pancake through a maple syrup smear. “Yeah, we made a plan.”
He’s not totally enthusiastic about seeing Davis, and it bothers me that I’m relieved by that. It should be fine that he wants to run off and act cute with Davis while I browse 1960s comics on my own.
Why wouldn’t that be fine?
Fuck, I really want to touch Alexander right now.
I push through my own feelings and force a smile. “You’ll have fun,” I say, then adjust my glasses. “It’s cute that you’ll both be there.”
“How’s your drawing going, by the way?” he asks. I can tell he’s changing the subject, and I’m happy to let him.
“It’s good. Slow, though.” The cities often take months to finish, but this one has been especially sluggish.
“Because you’re busy drawing tattoos?”
“That’s part of it.” I frown at my hash browns, then sip my coffee. “I don’t want my tattooing to eat up all the time for my other projects. Although I guess since the apprenticeship is the only thing making me any money…” I shrug.
“You made a little money from the show. I bought that piece in my bedroom. And Matty—” He cuts himself off when he sees my expression. “Okay, I know it’s different when your friends buy it, but it still counts.”
I tilt my eyes up to him. I’d tried to just give the illustrations to Alexander and Matty, but they’d insisted on paying, money that I intend to pass straight back to Alexander to pay him back.
“It’s funny. All I really care about is that I’m able to make my art, but in order to do that, I have to convince other people that I’m good. I have to sell the illustrations and impress Caesar at the shop, but I haven’t pulled any of that off yet, and there’s no real guarantee that I will.”
I hope it doesn’t sound like I’m giving up on myself, especially not after borrowing money from Alexander to pay for work that didn’t sell. But he quickly smiles. He hesitates for just a second, then reaches out and touches my hand.
His fingers land on mine, and I feel him everywhere, like when we rolled around in bed last night.
“You’ll figure out what’s right for you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “You have a chance to study with a really amazing artist, Rafael. Caesar is a seriously respected talent, and he picked you for a reason. If focusing on this opportunity means you draw a little less of your other work for a while, that doesn’t mean you’re abandoning the drawings.” He rubs my hand, holding my eye, and his warmth melts through me. “I believe in you, Rafael.”
Alexander’s words blanket over me. He does make success feel possible. My friend knows me, all my flaws included, and if he thinks I can pull this art career off, it’s easier for me to admit how much I want it and to be the guy Alexander sees when he looks at me.
