Page 22 of Matthias's Protective Embrace
“Uh, sure.” That’s not what I was expecting. I thought he’d ask me something personal, but watching TV in silence is a lot easier. Even if I wish we could sit close to one another, cuddling instead of on opposite ends of the couch.
I didn’t have the best time when I was atuniversity, in part because I was literally trying to die for a portion of it, but one of my favorite things was crowding in someone’s dorm room to watch a movie, everyone piling on the bed and cuddling up. It was never sexual, but it was nice to have someone touching me. Holding me. It’s been too long since I had something like that.
“What is this?” Matthias asks as we sit down, both with full wine glasses. He insisted on topping us up before we moved. I hesitated a little since I need to drive home, but he assured me that if I didn’t feel up to it, I could crash in his guest room. Even if I’m not tipsy, it’s tempting since his guest room is nicer than my real room. Better mattress, a TV, and plenty of room to stretch out. Plus, it’s close to him.
“It’s a family sitcom. A bunch of siblings that don’t really get along but still hang out.” Matthias’s nose wrinkles a bit. Yeah, I didn’t expect this to be his kind of thing. I poked around a bit on his streaming accounts to see what he’s into. It’s mostly movies with lots of action and a bit of horror and drama mixed in. As far as I can tell, he’s not working his way through any TV show. Which makes sense. He’s busy working every night. It’s not like that leaves a lot of time for him to binge-watch anything. My personal work ethic could use a lesson. That’s probably the reason he’s successful. No wasted weekends spent lying on the couch, watching twenty hours of TV.
“Sounds lovely.”
“Do you have siblings?” I don’t mean for the question to slip out, but I’m dying to know more about the man who’s been so kind to me.
“Nah, I’m an only child. I always wanted some, though.”
“Funny, I always wanted to be an only child.” It’s probably one of thosethe grass is greenerthings. Though I’mpretty sure my brother and parents wish he was the only child. It’d make things a lot easier on them.
Between always being a little bit different, coming out to them as pansexual, and then dropping out of school, they’ve had their hands full with me for years.
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I love my parents, but sometimes I wish there was someone else to take some of their attention.” He takes a few long sips of his wine. “Though, my friends now are kind of like brothers. Ones I didn’t grow up sharing a room and toys with. Probably one of the reasons we get along so well.”
I start to tell him about my brother, the golden child, but shut my mouth quickly. He’s not interested in hearing my sob story. He probably wants his TV back for the night. The last thing I want is to scare him off with my family drama.
Instead, I let the show drown out my thoughts as I desperately avoid putting my head on his shoulder. It’s right fucking there and big enough to make a delightful pillow. That’d send him running for the hills. And, for at least the next twenty-one minutes, I want to keep him right here, next to me.
Chapter Nine
FRANK
Sometimes,under the best circumstances, I make bad choices.
Okay, a lot of times I make bad choices, no matter what the circumstance. I’m working on it. Sort of.
This is one of those times. The diner sucked. Yeah, I got fries and coffee, but the stool was uncomfortable, and I had to spend money.
That’s where Matthias’s house has been so much better. Yes, I feel bad eating his food and watching his TV, but not bad enough to leave. Especially if there’s going to be another time like last week where he pours the two of us wine and hangs out with me for a few hours. Sure, it’s not quite the relationship I want with him, but I’m willing to take what I can get.
It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. So much so that I forgot the other reason I spent my evenings at the diner. The whole studying thing.
Not a smart move. I have a calculus test tomorrow, and I’m… let’s say underprepared.
I sit on the floor, bent over my textbook on the coffee table, trying to catch up on the last few weeks of class. I have notes, but they don’t make any sense. I was there. I wrote things down. So why don’t I remember any of it?
Fine, I’m fucked.
I erase the last ten minutes of work I’ve been doing on a problem set. If the examples are going this poorly, I’m terrified to see what happens in class tomorrow.
“Are you okay?” Matthias asks.
“Sorry,” I mumble. Apparently, the aggressive erasing carries through the house. Just what my complete breakdown needs. An audience.
“What are you working on?”
He takes a few steps toward me as I jerk the book away. I’m not sure why I’m embarrassed for him to see my work. He knows I’m in school. He’s been out a while, but surely he remembers how it works. “Studying for a test.” I wince as the words leave my mouth. Telling him I have a test opens me up to a whole host of questions. Specifically, follow up next week when he asks how it went.
“When’s the exam?” Or like that one.
“Uh, tomorrow.”
“Do you feel good about it?”
