He collapsed into the chair behind the desk. I was vaguely aware of Matthew straddling his lap and riding him for what seemed like a few short moments before they both came, grunting each other's names, with my own mixed into their cries.
I wasn't aware of moving from the office upstairs to our bed, but when they snuggled in beside me, I came back to myself and found my voice. The slow drawl of it surprised me. “That was... intense. Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” Richard said. “But I think I should be thanking you. I've never gone that far with anyone before.”
“Me neither.”
“I like that.” His arms tightened around us. “The kid's next.”
Matthew gasped and buried his head in my shoulder. The reaction reminded me of our second night at the Haven when I'd pondered what he'd sound like fucking Richard. I was glad I knew exactly how he sounded buried inside Richard. I was also glad we still had moments to come that could send him into such an overwhelmed state at the mere thought of them.
I'd have vocalized my contemplation, but I couldn't find my voice again, and I didn't care to. I traveled along a current of satiation that wouldn't let me care about much of anything. Not about clubs, parties, or investors. Not about elections, mothers, or fathers.
I only cared about them. The two men who held me between them, with them, in them.
I had Matthew and Richard, and everything else paled in comparison.
Chapter Thirty-five
“Is he home yet?” Richard asked.
“No,” I said. “I thought you were working. Go back to your office.”
“Okay. Holler when he gets home.”
It was the same conversation we'd had five minutes earlier. And a half hour before that.
Richard poked his head around the corner. “Hey, the spaghetti sauce smells good.”
“Thanks.” It came from a jar. Unscrewing the lid hadn't been that hard. It tasted okay. Not like Matthew's homemade, though.
“Don't forget to let me know— ”
“The minute he gets in.”
Richard took off for his office.
I set the plates and silverware on the table. The act of making dinner for them gave me a domestic satisfaction I'd never known in my life. I was happy to fill in for Matthew. I hadn't even gotten pissed when the water boiled over and I caught the towel on fire trying to dry the stove off.
The entire task was a welcome distraction.
After Richard's party, I forced myself to stop thinking about my father or his threats. I didn't want to give him any more power over me than he already had. I had to trust Walter— trust that he'd find something if there was something to find.
And if not?
I wouldn't allow myself to go there.
Whenever my father got around to announcing he'd be running in the election, my life was going to change. Even if my father didn't want to acknowledge me, I was going to be the son of a presidential candidate. A gay son who lived with two men. I couldn't hide from that.
Until then, not thinking about it helped... some. Making spaghetti while Matthew spent the day at a career counseling seminar helped more.
I strained the spaghetti, and it didn't stick. An accomplishment.
The front door opened, and Matthew stepped into the kitchen a moment later. “Hi, Luke.”
“Hey, kid. You better go get— ”
Richard rushed in and hugged Matthew from behind.
“Never mind,” I said with a laugh.
“What did you learn?” Richard asked as I dished out the food.
Matthew took a bite and smiled his approval at me. “This is good.”
“It's just fucking spaghetti,” Richard said. He threw me an apologetic look.
I waved it off. “I want to hear about it too. C'mon, Matthew.”
Matthew ate another bite and set his fork down. “Well, I've been thinking about a degree program for a while now. A man in the field gave a lecture and had a booth setup. It helped me make a decision.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his chair. “I want to go back to school, full time, if I can manage. That way I can be done in two years. I can even start the classes in the summer session. From what I heard today, I should be able to get a loan without much trouble.” He picked up his fork and ate more.
“You'll take the loan from me,” Richard said.
Matthew raised his head. A string of spaghetti hung out the corner of his mouth. He slurped it in. “Are you sure?”
“I'm sure. They'll charge you interest. I won't.”
I hid a smile.
“And don't even ask about paying for this place or anything else,” he added. “I want you to concentrate on school. I can cover what you give to your mom too.”
Matthew dropped his fork. “That's... I can't let you do that.”
“Why?”
“I'm not a child.”
“I never said you were.”
“Jesus, Richard, I have to pay for something.” Matthew shoved his chair back and carried his barely eaten dinner to the sink. The plate and silverware clanked on top of the spaghetti pot. Any harder and it would have broken.
The perplexed look on Richard's face almost had me laughing. Except it wasn't funny. “You can't control everything.”
He turned the puzzled look on me. “What?”
“Matthew's got to decide this stuff for himself.”
“I just want to help.”
“I know. I want him to let you help. But it's his decision. If he doesn't feel right about it, then he'll figure something else out.”
“But I have the money.”
“Everything isn't always that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Dammit, do you ever hear yourself?”
“What the hell— ”
“Just ‘cause we call him kid doesn't mean he's not a man.”
Richard jerked back and crossed his arms. “I know exactly what he is. I've had his dick up my ass.”
“He's standing right here.”
Richard looked up at Matthew, and the two held the stare for several breaths.
Matthew took his seat. “I
