The Coil

by Gilbert, L. A.

  “No, but I do want to see you naked. If you’d be so kind as to oblige.”

  Mattie raised a cocky eyebrow. “All right.” He slinked off the bed and had the wife beater off in one swift moment. He snapped open his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, toeing off his socks and stepping out of the puddle of clothing.

  If Simon’s mind hadn’t been busy reverting back to that of a horny-as-hell teenager, he would have been impressed with the speed at which Mattie’d disrobed. As it was, he was too busy staring blankly at a body that would turn God gay.

  “That enough of an eyeful?” Mattie smirked.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Simon barked with laughter. “Look at you, come on! Who gets to look like that? Seriously!” He made a show of squinting as he counted. “One, two, three, four, five—yep. Six pack. A damn six pack. You know the last time I saw one of those was on my computer screen. I didn’t think they existed anymore.”

  “Anyone would think you were kind of into me, Simon,” he mimicked as he climbed back onto the bed.

  “I’m not even kidding here. You know there’s such a thing as too gorgeous, right? You are too gorgeous.” He shook his head. “That’s just too much pressure. My clothes are staying on.”

  “Don’t. Even,” Mattie warned.

  “Nope. Screw that. I’ll lower my pants a little, but other than that—” Simon was cut off with a yelp when Mattie gripped him behind his knees and yanked him down the bed.

  “I’ve got about twenty minutes left to blow your mind,” he said in a distinctly huskier voice. “So I am going to undress you, and then I am going to have you, all right? Just nod your head ‘yes’.”

  Simon nodded.

  THEY were twenty minutes spent well. Twenty minutes of flesh grinding in a slow, sweaty tandem. Twenty minutes of having Mattie’s hot breath against his neck, his beautifully toned shoulders moving above him and his grip on them sliding, leaving unintentional red marks. Twenty minutes of that smooth, chiseled chest rubbing against his own somewhat average one. Twenty minutes of his fingers gripping Mattie’s wringing wet hair in tight fists as he steadied himself on one hand at Simon’s side, the other gripping the headboard as their movements became quicker, harder, their flesh slapping together.

  It was twenty minutes of utter heaven.

  They lay side by side, panting as they fought to catch their breaths with the sheets pushed aside so their slick skin could cool.

  “Have—have you ever seen someone debone a fish before?” Simon asked breathlessly.

  Mattie turned to look at him with an amused expression. “This your idea of pillow talk?”

  Simon laughed, feeling utterly slinky. “Have you?” he asked again.

  “Uh… think so. Some dude on a cooking show once, why?”

  Simon found himself mesmerized by the rise and fall of that beautifully smooth chest beaded with sweat. He licked his lips. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you’ve just done to my spine.”

  Mattie grinned, looking rather smug. He rolled onto his side, and Simon felt a momentary spike of unease travel through him when he saw a look in those hazel eyes that was decidedly tender.

  “You were pretty incredible yourself,” he said softly. He leaned forward and kissed Simon slowly. “And as much as I really, really don’t want to let you out of this bed, I believe you promised someone bedtime stories.”

  Simon felt a wave of relief flow through him. It was time to go, and it was Mattie that had gently suggested it. He was even a little touched that Mattie’d recalled the promise he’d made Jamie on the phone. He groaned and sat up. “I guess it’s back to the real world for now. I’m going to be walking like a cowboy for a week.”

  “For now, and I like cowboys.” Mattie grinned, climbing out of the bed and snagging Simon’s clothing. “There are tissues on the dresser. Do you want me to call a cab for you while you get dressed?”

  Simon slipped on his glasses and was strapping on his watch. “Yes, please. I didn’t drive today. I usually try and walk everywhere as a rule, but not tonight. It’s nearly eight o’clock, and a certain someone will be in his PJ’s, waiting to read the next chapter of The Hobbit, which he already knows by heart, I might add,” he said fondly.

  “That’s both cute and impressive.” Mattie smiled as he slinked on his underwear and searched for his cell.

  Simon dressed while Mattie strolled into the kitchen, ordering a cab and filling a glass of water from the faucet for Simon. Simon walked out of the bedroom, feeling rumpled and ravished, and if Mattie’s proud grin was anything to go by, that’s exactly what he looked like. He wouldn’t have minded a quick shower, but the idea of walking down the hall to the floor’s shared bathroom while smelling of sex didn’t appeal.

  “Thanks.” He accepted the water, gulping it down, and then impulsively drew Mattie close for a kiss. “Thank you,” he repeated, his voice lower and heavy with meaning.

  Any post-orgasm awkwardness he would expect to feel quickly melted away with a soft sigh when Mattie slinked his arms up and around Simon’s neck, pressing their bodies together to kiss him. It was a kiss he felt right down to his bones and in every nook and cranny of his body. His hands instinctually held Mattie close, and despite the fact that Mattie had topped him that evening, the way he held him now made him feel like a man. He allowed one hand to stray lower and splay over Mattie’s perfect backside, and could feel Mattie grin a little when he gave it a squeeze. The sound of a car’s horn—a cab’s horn—caused them to pull apart a fraction.

  “You’ll be at the diner tomorrow to work, right? Like usual?”

  Simon gave him one last quick kiss and nodded. “Just like every day.” He reluctantly pulled away and slung his bag across his body. “Maybe you could take your lunch break with me, or something?”

  Mattie pressed his lips together to hide what he thought would be too pleased a smile, and nodded. “Sure, I’d like that.” He walked Simon to his front door and untwisted the strap of his bag, which had tangled across his chest. “And we can work out when we can maybe next get together.” He looked Simon in the eye, and his hand patted where he’d untwisted the strap. “Whenever is good for you and Jamie.”

  All but blown away by the day in general, let alone that generous and understanding statement, Simon leaned in for a final soft kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, and headed out of the door.

  “HEY, I’m home,” he called, dropping his keys and bag on a table in the entryway and heading on into the living room. “Hey,” he repeated, quieter. He smiled, spotting Jamie fast asleep on the sofa. “Everything go okay?”

  “Absolutely fine.” Sarah stood, bookmarking her page.

  “I’m so glad he’s getting used to being around someone else other than me occasionally, even if he does see you during the day.”

  “It’s baby steps, but it’s ultimately good for him.” Sarah nodded. “He wanted to wait for you to get into his pajamas, though. That’s your job and your job only, apparently.” She laughed. “And I would have put him to bed, but I didn’t want to risk waking him while I was holding him. I don’t think he’s ready for that.”

  “Not yet, no.” He checked his watch; it was eight fifteen. “He’s not usually asleep this soon. What did you get up to?”

  “We had a great time. We made some towers, and you have a drawing of Gimli waiting for you in your office.”

  “That’s the dwarf, right?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  Simon smiled. He’d go have a look when he’d tucked Jamie in; then he’d pin it up on the fridge. But first…. “You wouldn’t mind hanging on for two more minutes while I grab a quick shower, would you?”

  “Of course.” She patted his arm and then paused, her delicate eyebrows rising in surprise. “Um….” She all but giggled. “Have a good evening?”

  He flushed damn near scarlet and backed away, smiling sheepishly. Someone had taken stock of his rumpled hair and possibly caught a whiff of so
mething that was not aftershave. “I uh… oh, damn it,” he laughed sheepishly.

  She held her hands palms up. “None of my business, though it’s about time Prince Charming made an appearance.”

  “I’ll be back in two ticks.”

  “Make it three,” she chuckled and sat back down.

  Five minutes later and looking and smelling more appropriate for polite company, he pulled his wallet out of his bag and pulled out fifty dollars. Sarah looked up as he handed over the bills. Usually she would fold them and put them into her purse, as she was now, and then peck him on the cheek and be on her way. However, this time she paused, taking note of how much he’d handed over, and looked up at him, surprised.

  “Simon, don’t be ridiculous,” she laughed.

  “You’ve been here for hours, and you cooked him supper.”

  “I heated up leftover meatballs.”

  “Yes, but then you caught me coming in looking all… um….”

  She squinted her eyes, looking him up and down. “Lighter, you look lighter.”

  “That’s one way to put it.” He grinned when she slapped his arm.

  “Here.” She handed back ten.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “It’s too much. Take it.” She pushed it back into his hand. “Now walk me to the door like a gentleman.”

  He followed her into the hallway, worrying his lip as he tried to think of a way to broach a potentially embarrassing subject. “Sarah, you mentioned that you’d be happy to sit a little more regularly?” He knew he was busted when she snorted and gave him a sly smile.

  “Yes?” she drawled, pulling on her jacket.

  He couldn’t help but smile in embarrassment. “I was wondering if we could maybe make it… I don’t know, two, three nights a week?” He was surprised when her shoulders slumped and a look of relief swept over her face.

  “That would be fantastic.”

  “Really?”

  The look of relief was quickly replaced by a look of utter aggravation. “I took my car to the shop to get the exhaust replaced. Turns out there were a heap of other stupid mechanical things wrong with it. I paid two hundred in the end, only to be told it should hold out for about another month and to just scrap it as soon as possible. Can you believe that?”

  It was at times like this that he felt guilty about having a Mercedes sitting in his garage, infrequently used. “Well, if you’re having car troubles, I could always drive him over to your place and pick him up three or four hours later? It’d save you gas money too.” And that way he could drive to and from Mattie’s apartment.

  “That would be great, and that’d introduce him to a new environment at the same time.”

  “How about I come over one evening this week with him, let him get used to it while I’m there?”

  She wrapped her scarf around her neck. “Make sure you bring his blocks and crayons and such. But yes, I think we have a deal.” She looked at him seriously a moment. “I know you think I’m doing you a favor here, Simon, but honestly it goes both ways. The money would really help me out right now, so two or three nights a week would be absolutely fine. Think about which nights and let me know.”

  He smiled, relieved. “I will. I’ll still pick him up from school, spend a couple of hours with him, and get him fed. Then I’ll bring him over probably between five and six.” He waved his hand in a casual manner. “We’ll iron the details out later.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She tiptoed and pecked his cheek, and he opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Drive safe.”

  He watched her pull away and then headed on into the living room to scoop up his baby boy. He didn’t have to worry about checking if Jamie was happy to be picked up when half asleep. Usually, in this state, his instinct was to curl up into his dad’s arms. He shouldered open his bedroom door, and Jamie mumbled quietly but otherwise didn’t stir as he laid him out on his bed.

  “Hey, little man.” He smiled when Jamie blinked sleepily at him. “Let’s get you into your pajamas.

  “’Kay.”

  Simon held back a snort of amusement as his half-asleep son allowed him to remove his cape and pull his Spider-Man T-shirt up over his head. He wiggled him into his cowboy and Indians onesie, making him giggle. He noticed the PJ’s were getting a little short in the leg, and made a mental note to pick up some child pajamas on his next shopping trip. He smiled sadly, realizing he would have to buy the size four to five years old, rather than three to four.

  All tucked in, he asked if he still wanted to read The Hobbit. Jamie nodded even as his eyelids began to droop, and explained sleepily that Bilbo was just about to load the dwarves into the barrels. Simon smoothed down that little cowlick and picked up where they’d last left off.

  Half a page later, Jamie was fast asleep.

  Chapter Five

  “HEY.” Mattie slid into the booth opposite Simon with a bowl of soup for himself and a tuna baguette for him. “Are you at a stopping point?” He lifted his chin as if he could see over the top of the laptop, hesitant to interrupt.

  “Just give me one minute.” Simon clacked away at the keys for a few more moments before leaning back in his seat, rolling his eyes, and then closing his laptop, pushing it to one side.

  “Not going well?” Mattie asked, blowing on his spoon to cool his tomato soup.

  “No. No it’s not.” Simon frowned. He looked up at Mattie, wanting more than anything to just moan at someone about the damn manuscript.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m stuck.”

  “You mean writer’s block?”

  He harrumphed unhappily. “Not really. I know where I want it to go; I’m just not… feeling it anymore.”

  “Well, talk it out with me. Tell me about the story, and maybe you can feel out where it’s falling flat for you.”

  Simon sighed, knowing that Mattie was just trying to be nice, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt to try. “It’s a thriller.”

  “Like your other ones?”

  “You know my other books?” He grinned when Mattie lifted one shoulder, as if it were no big thing.

  “A part of completing the reading and writing course was to choose a book from the library, write a short essay or critique, and then read it to the rest of the class.” He went back to stirring his soup. “I chose The Cracked Bell, by Simon Castle.”

  Simon smiled in surprise, feeling flattered. “You read one of my books.” It wasn’t a question, and he grinned when Mattie’s response was to mumble something affirmative while occupying himself with his lunch. “I wouldn’t mind hearing what you thought of it.”

  “It was good.” Mattie dodged.

  “Pft, I want to hear this essay.”

  “Um. No,” he laughed.

  “Why, did you totally trash me?” he teased.

  “No! Of course not, you’re brilliant.” Mattie looked shocked.

  “I was only teasing you, and I’m far from brilliant, but that’s very kind of you, you lovely, lovely man. Now come on, cheer me up here. What did you say?”

  Mattie sighed. “I wasn’t the most articulate or anything, but I just said, in a nutshell, that I found it very suspenseful—which is a bitch to spell, by the way—and that despite the fact that I found myself utterly engrossed, the ending still managed to take me by surprise.” Mattie glanced at him and offered him a crooked smile. “That was pretty much my review, and then I just told them about the book’s storyline, and to go read it for themselves.”

  “Thanks. Did you really like it?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Why’d you pick that one instead of my other book, just out of interest?”

  “Uh. It was shorter,” he offered with a laugh. “I only had a week to read it, and I’m still kind of slow.”

  “Well.” Simon toyed with a napkin. “Thanks for reading it. Are you glad you’re done with the course now?”

  “Sort of. I have to keep on reading. That’s what they
tell you. And I guess I can save a little bit of money now that they’re done, but I’m not really getting my time back. I’m studying like crazy to sit for my GED.”

  “I’d be happy to help you any time.”

  He instantly regretted the offer. Although he really wouldn’t mind helping Mattie study, and wanted nothing more than for Mattie to do well, they had, over the past few weeks, carved out a routine of sorts. A few nights a week, when Sarah could sit for Jamie and when Mattie didn’t have his reading and writing class or… other commitments that he tried to not think about, they would be at Mattie’s apartment. And on the days he saw Mattie, his day would follow the lines of: take Jamie to school, go to the diner and write for a few hours, eat lunch with Mattie, go pick up Jamie and take him home for supper (he’d stopped taking Jamie to the diner for now, both unwilling and ashamed to admit why), drive to Sarah’s to drop off Jamie, and then over to Mattie’s for a max of two, two and a half hours. It was going exactly how they had discussed it would. It was easy, casual… it was nice. His only problem was that it was too nice.

  The sex was starting to feel suspiciously like lovemaking. It was becoming more comfortable to spend time in bed talking and lying close, getting to genuinely know one another. Mattie’s touches were becoming more familiar, and he found himself enjoying, even welcoming the touch of Mattie’s hands at his back when being led into his apartment. He enjoyed the kiss goodnight, as if he were being seen off to work by his doting partner. He found himself jealous on the very rare occasions when Mattie had prior engagements, which allowed his imagination to torture him with images of Mattie with other men.

  He was not supposed to be feeling this way, and he certainly was not supposed to be offering Mattie help with his studying. Fortunately, he was saved from having to retract the offer when Mattie declined with a nonchalant shake of his head. He made a mental note to perhaps lay off on his time spent with Mattie, as much he enjoyed and looked forward it. They really needed to get back to the mind-set of friends with benefits.