The Sweet Tooth

by Margot Larson

  Solomon frowned, “Oh, Mathieu, you never said she stopped by.” He felt like he missed out on an important event.

  Mathieu pulled his boyfriend down onto the bed, “I’m pretty sure it happened the same day we went for ice-cream.” It wasn't the day they went out, it wasn't the day they fought, it wasn't the night Mathieu almost killed himself, it was the day they went out for ice-cream. “I forgot about it until just now. Anders, you should ask her out.”

  “Evelyn or Elise?”

  Solomon winked, “Why not both?”

  “You guys are so funny. You should write comedy routines,” desperate to change the subject, Anders asked, “Can we leave now?”

  Mathieu explained how he has to wait for his new medications to arrive and then his doctor had to come by with ‘after-care instructions’ before he could leave. The wait wasn’t long and the doctor finally arrived to lecture Mathieu on the dangers of alcohol usage while on medication for what seemed like the hundredth time and handed him his discharge papers.

  ***

  Mathieu said he wasn't up for eating out so the three men returned to the flats where they made lunch and talked about everything but what they were feeling. Anders was teased mercilessly about Elise and Evelyn. Solomon asked why Anders didn’t show him the photo collages Mathieu had made for the restaurant. Anders told them to shut up about the ladies and explained to Solomon that the night he was there didn’t feel like the right time.

  After Anders left Mathieu and Solomon settled on the sofa in separate corners. Even though they had talked and forgiven things were tense between them now that there were no distractions. Mathieu wanted to check his laptop for work but didn’t want Solomon to feel ignored. Solomon wanted to grab a beer but didn’t want Mathieu to feel like he was throwing his ability to drink in his face. They just had lunch so making dinner was out. Going out was out because Mathieu was tired. They had never felt so uncomfortable around each other.

  Mathieu broke the silence, “I’m sorry,” the Irishman inched closer to the right.

  “I’m the one who’s sorry. I said some stupid things the other night. I don’t know what came over me,” the blonde inched closer to the left.

  “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you about Evelyn coming over,” another inch to the right.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t follow you up that night and talk to you like I promised,” another inch to the left.

  “I’m sorry I drank and scared you. I’m….I mean thank you for saving me,” closer to the middle.

  “You’re welcome,” closer to the middle.

  They both leaned forward at the same time, crashing their lips together and even though Mathieu didn’t feel the passion like he had before the reduction in his medication allowed him to feel something. And something was better than nothing.

  CHAPTER 18

  Since the Sunday of the ‘Adrian incident’ brunches had become a regular thing at Mathieu’s. Each man took a turn at cooking instead of choosing a place to go (obviously, Adrian was not invited). This Sunday it was Anders’ turn to cook as the other two sat and watched him from the dining room while saying how unfair it was to him because he cooked for a living but at the same time making no move to actually take the responsibility away.

  The first thing Anders did was set the oven to the correct temperature to preheat. Bacon was cooked until evenly browned then removed from the skillet to drain on paper towels. The chef whisked together the eggs, cream, salt, pepper, Worcestershire sauce and hot pepper sauce and put it to the side. The frozen spinach was thawed (in Solomon’s microwave much to Mathieu’s chagrin), drained and squeezed dry before being spread over the bottom of the refrigerated pie crust. The spinach was topped with crumbled bacon, shredded cheddar cheese and chopped green onion. The egg mixture was poured over the filling and the whole thing was sprinkled with parmesan cheese. The quiche was placed on top of a cookie sheet to catch any spill over and baked for 40 minutes until the top looked lightly puffed and browned.

  While the quiche was cooking Anders prepared fruit salad and virgin Bloody Marys; tomato juice, lemon juice, Worcestershire sauce, celery salt, pepper, Tabasco sauce and a celery stick for garnish.

  After the bacon and spinach quiche was consumed the three men lounged around and sipped their coffee. Anders curled up tighter than anyone thought possible in a club chair, legs tucked underneath him and Solomon and Mathieu cuddled together on the sofa when Anders dared to bring up the Welshman’s name, “Adrian came by the restaurant Friday night.”

  Mathieu immediately went rigid as Solomon tightened his hold, “What did he want?”

  “He wanted to talk. I didn’t have a lot of time for him though. He said he missed us.”

  “Did he say he was sorry?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What exactly did he say?” Solomon was getting impatient again; could feel the heat of anger and frustration building inside him.

  Anders winced at Solomon’s attitude, “Calm down, please. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  “Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down,” Solomon shoved his boyfriend off of him to stand, “he laid his hands on my boyfriend. He put Mathieu in danger.”

  Anders looked to Mathieu for help but the Irishman had his head down covered with his arms, “Stop Solomon. You’re scaring him.” Anders unfolded himself from the chair and stood.

  Solomon shot Anders a confused look before realizing how he had been acting. He looked down at his boyfriend who was still sitting with his head covered by his arms, “Mathieu? Baby, I’m sorry.” Solomon sat back down and put an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. He turned his face back up to Anders, who was still standing, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. Everything sets me off.”

  Anders rolled his eyes and tried to lighten the mood, “It’s a good thing you’re going to therapy on Wednesday then.”

  “Ha, ha,” Solomon smirked turning his attention back to his boyfriend, “Baby, are you okay?”

  From under his arms Mathieu mumbled, “Yeah.”

  Solomon began to rock back and forth and rubbed his hands over Mathieu’s arm, “Anders, what night is the restaurant least busy?”

  Anders shot Solomon an offended look, “My restaurant is always busy.”

  “Anders,” Solomon’s voice was a light warning.

  Sitting back down Anders replied, “Tuesday. Why?”

  “Baby, would you like to go to Anders’ on Tuesday?”

  “Okay,” Mathieu still didn’t uncover his head.

  “We’d like a reservation for two for Tuesday,” Solomon instructed Anders.

  Anders bowed as dramatically as he could from the chair, “Yes, your majesty.”

  “Now, that’s more like it,” Solomon laughed.

  Mathieu leaned into his boyfriend’s side “Solomon?”

  “Yes, love?” Solomon leaned back.

  “Is it safe to come out now?” Mathieu asked sheepishly peeking out from under the cover of his arms.

  “Yes, love.”

  ***

  Mathieu was so excited about going to dinner it was taking him most of the afternoon to decide what to wear. He wanted to dress nice for Solomon but he didn’t want to over dress. All the photos on the website only showed the restaurant. None of the photos showed any of the diners so he wasn't exactly sure how to dress. A suit would've been too formal; jeans not dressy enough; khakis, well, just blah. At the bottom of a dresser drawer he found a pair of dark, blue, jeans. They were a little looser than he normally liked but he thought they would do. ‘Okay, now,’ the thought ‘what to wear with them?’ A tee shirt was out of the question; it was too hot for a jumper; it would have to be a dress shirt but which one? Light blue; no….Solomon was wearing blue that day. Green; no…there was a stain (‘why do I still have this?’). He chucked it toward the garbage can. Tan; no….again, just blah. Purple; no….just no. Yellow; no….(‘when was this even in style?’). Grey; no….too fall-like. Black; no….too dark. White; no….
too bright, too plain. Stripes; no….too stripy. Checks; no….too busy. Finally he pulled out a dark, red shirt but he was not sure about the color because he always thought of dark, red as a fall/winter color but it looked great on him so he went with it.

  The next problem to face was; should the shirt be tucked or untucked? He decided on untucked for now and he’d ask Solomon later how he looked and if Solomon said to tuck, he’d tuck. The last thing to decide on before black socks and shoes went on would be a tie. ‘To tie or not to tie? That is the question,’ Mathieu giggles to himself. Solomon would have on a tie and a jacket, unless he took them off. But if he wore a tie, would he have to wear a jacket too? Mathieu decided to wear a tie but not a jacket. Now, which tie? This decision was easier that the others; he went for simple, black, classy and elegant.

  He didn’t want to shower too soon so he lazed around in his boxers and a tee shirt, checking his emails and researching The Hundred Years war for an author until he felt it was time. Solomon was due home at six and their reservations were at seven so he figured five would be a good time.

  Solomon arrived home while Mathieu was still in the shower having left a little early from work to pick-up flowers for his date. He’d like nothing more than to strip down and join his partner in the shower but he knew this was an important night for Mathieu as well as the two of them as a couple. He went to his to freshen up and change his clothes.

  Mathieu noticed the flowers when he walked into the kitchen after dressing. He smiled as he cuts fresh ends on the stems and arranged the flowers in a vase. He heard his front door open and turned to see Solomon walk in and his breath hitched. Solomon had changed into blue jeans, a pink button down shirt and a pink and grey paisley tie and holy shit he looked amazing. Even though Mathieu was dressed much the same way he felt woefully under-dressed. “How do you do that?”

  Solomon looked guilty but he didn’t quite know why, “Do what?”

  “Look amazing so quickly. It took me over an hour to decide what shirt to wear. It’s not fair at all.” He ran back into the bedroom tossing off his tie and stripping off his red shirt.

  “What are you doing? You looked great.” Solomon entered the bedroom behind his partner, almost tripped over Mathieu’s black dress shoes and picked the discarded shirt up off the floor.

  “I can’t wear red while you’re wearing pink. How would that look?” Mathieu was rifling through the closet tossing shirts and hangers behind him.

  “Who cares how it looks? You looked mouth-wateringly delicious.” Solomon wrapped his arms around the distressed brunette’s waist while he watched dress shirts fly past his head. He let go when he saw a shirt he liked land next to him. “This one is nice. It would look great with those jeans.” It’s a white shirt with navy blue and light blue pencil-thin stripes, “And if you need, I have the perfect tie to go with it.”

  Mathieu takes the shirt off the hanger, “I should’ve just waited until you got home and then you could’ve dressed me. I stressed all afternoon over this.”

  Solomon looked his boyfriend over, “If you waited to get dressed until I got home I’m afraid we’d never make our reservation,” he rewrapped his arms around his lover’s waist, “The shirt looks great, you can even leave it untucked and go without the tie if you want.”

  “If you’re going tucked with a tie then I will go tucked with a tie, if I can borrow yours.”

  “Sure, Baby, be right back.” Solomon came back quickly with a navy tie with small, light blue dots on it. The blonde tied the tie around Mathieu’s neck and gave him a peck on the cheek, “You look amazing.”

  Mathieu gave Solomon a peck back, “Thanks to you.”

  “Stop. You looked just fine before. You didn’t have to change. But let’s not fight about it or we’ll never get out of here. Although a hot round of make-up sex is very tempting,” he pulled his lover down into a heated kiss.

  ***

  Even though they were a little disheveled they weren't late for their reservation because they took a cab instead of walking like they had planned. Anders had asked the hostess to notify him when they arrived and the chef came out of the kitchen to meet them. After complimenting Mathieu on how good he looks (earning a little jealous huff from Solomon) the chef informed them that there was a party coming in but he would have them seated as far from the couple as he could. At first Mathieu wanted to leave but both Solomon and Anders convinced him to stay when Solomon promised they could leave if he was too uncomfortable.

  After Mathieu agreed to stay and before Anders returned to the kitchen to prepare their meal he had a bottle of 12NtM, a non-alcoholic tea-based champagne he had imported, delivered to the table where he toasted to the couples happiness. When the waitress came by, they order shrimp cocktail for an appetizer; broiled lamb with steamed vegetables and roasted new potatoes for Mathieu and Angus fillet with spinach and mushrooms and a baked potato for Solomon.

  The appetizer was served just as the party entered and was led past them on the way to the area Anders set aside for them. Solomon moved around the table to sit on the booth bench next to Mathieu in an effort to comfort and calm him. The Irishman leaned into his boyfriend accepting all the comfort Solomon was willing to give nuzzling into the blonde’s neck and running a hand up the strong thigh.

  Solomon stilled the hand progressing up his thigh, “If you don’t stop we’re going to have to get our food wrapped to go.”

  Mathieu pressed a kiss to the blonde’s temple, “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

  “Behave yourself. You got all dressed up. Let’s enjoy this and see what Anders has planned for us for dessert then we can go home and I’ll let you have your way with me. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m alright. I’m trying not to think about them.” Mathieu resumed the movement of his hand over Solomon’s thigh, “How are you feeling?”

  Solomon stepped out of the bench and returned to his side of the table, “Behave.”

  Mathieu behaved until their dinner arrived then Solomon felt a foot sliding up his calf startling him; fork full of potato half way to his mouth he stared at his boyfriend acting all innocent; eyes cast down as he cut a piece from his lamb. Solomon put his fork back down, “Mathieu,” Solomon hissed, “behave.”

  Mathieu’s eyes snapped up, “What? I’m not doing anything.”

  “Remember how you used to say that I was nothing but trouble? Now, it’s you.”

  Mathieu feigned hurt as he inhaled sharply and put a hand over his heart, “I don’t know what you mean. Is there a problem?”

  “You’re not behaving.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “You know exactly what you’re doing.” Solomon playfully growled pointing his potato covered fork at the naughty Irishman.

  Mathieu moved his foot further up Solomon’s leg, “Well then, you’ll just have to punish me later.”

  That was the point Anders returned to the table and slid into the booth next to Solomon, “Punish you for what? Or do I not want to know?”

  Together Solomon and Mathieu replied, “You don’t want to know.”

  Anders sat and chatted with them while the two finished their meal before returning the kitchen and coming back with a dessert tray. On the tray were two cups of coffee, one large chocolate soufflé and a tiny pitcher of hot, chocolate sauce. Anders took a spoon and poked a hole into the middle of the soufflé and dramatically poured in the chocolate sauce, “Enjoy,” Anders bowed and returned to the kitchen.

  Mathieu dug in with his spoon for the first taste. He moaned with delight, “I’m sorry, Solomon. I’m leaving you for Anders.”

  Solomon raised his eyebrows at his boyfriend as he took a taste for himself, “I think I’m leaving you for Anders.”

  Mathieu swatted Solomon’s spoon away from the soufflé with his own, “My turn. I’ll just have to fight you for him.”

  “I’ll kick your ass back to Ireland.” Solomon took another spoonful.

  “Ha! You wish. I work out e
very day.” Mathieu pointed his spoon at Solomon before going in for another spoonful of his own, “You’re soft.”

  “It’s all muscle, Baby. My squishiness is deceiving.”

  Mathieu stopped his move for another spoonful, “Did you just describe yourself as ‘squashy’?”

  “Ummm…maybe,” Solomon blushed.

  Mathieu winked, “You’re so cute. I’m going to have to keep you.”

  Solomon deadpanned, “I’m still leaving you for Anders.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Mathieu did not want to go to Elise’s alone so Solomon had to rush home after work to pick him up so they could go together. Instead of taking the tube Solomon decided to get a taxi but the traffic was awful at rush hour and Solomon felt the aggravation building. He was in the back of the taxi doing deep breathing exercises when Mathieu got in with him. The Irishman knew what Solomon’s breathing meant so he just gave the driver the address and tried not to disturb his partner.

  Elise’s office was on the ground floor in the corner home on Sloan Street. The reception area was small but tidy. In front of the window there was a desk behind which sat a friendly looking assistant who took their names and asked them to have a seat. Mathieu sat by the door; Solomon across from him by the interior wall. Solomon’s breathing was back to normal but Mathieu was still wary. He didn’t want to do or say anything that would set Solomon off or cause him to leave before the session. Aside from giving the receptionist their names they didn’t speak.

  They waited in the reception area for fifteen minutes before Elise opened her office door and asked them to come in to her office. It didn’t take a degree for Elise to realize something was not right between the two men. Solomon sat in the leather chair across from her and Mathieu slipped off his shoes and curled up into a ball on the matching leather sofa. Normally the two men were sitting near each other holding hands or touching in some way.