by BA Tortuga
“I do know that about you.” Kris studied the menu. “Crab dip, or guacamole and queso?”
“Guacamole and queso. Why eat crab in a landlocked state?”
“True. Good thought.” Their waiter came over, and they ordered appetizers and iced tea. He knew Kris loved a margarita, so he appreciated the courtesy of Kris not having alcohol.
He watched out the window, but there weren’t a lot of people out. Some, but no crowds. Josh tapped his fingers on the table because he had no idea what to say.
Kris reached out, touched his fingers. “Do I make you nervous?”
“God, yes.”
His hand jumped, his skin heating. He wanted to throw himself in front of Kris and beg for everything to be right with them. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, but he wanted to.
“I’m trying not to.” Kris didn’t let go, though, which didn’t help ease his stress.
“Not to what?”
“Make you nervous.” Kris stayed right there, staring at him intently. “I really hope you find something that will work on this trip.”
“I do too.” If he lost the gallery, he lost everything. No one wanted an art history major with a failed business and a prior work history at a Texadelphia sandwich place.
“I just wanted you to know that. I know it would kill you to lose the gallery, but I’m just not sure the neighborhood will support it.”
“Yeah.” Kris knew it would kill him, but those were the breaks, kid. Sucked to be him. It was his fault, right? He was the fuckup, he was the drunk, and he was the bad guy forever.
Josh sighed, nodding at the waiter when he came back with drinks.
“You two need a few more minutes?” the waiter asked, and Josh realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu.
“Yes, please. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t even hungry anymore, but he knew he needed food. He’d get enchiladas and finish them tonight.
“No problem. Your app will be out in a few.”
“The offer is good enough that you could live on the proceeds for a year, you know? Maybe two.”
“Shut up, Kris. This is supper. Not business.”
Kris sat back, letting go of his hand, eyebrows going up. “Okay. Sure. Sorry.”
“No worries. I just… let’s just have a nice meal and pretend everything’s going to be okay.”
“We can totally do that.” Kris pulled his menu up. “I think blue corn tacos for me.”
“I’ll do the enchiladas.” Simple. Easy. Good as leftovers.
“Yum.” Kris smiled, the expression only a little strained around the edges. “Need to save room for dessert.”
“Yeah, do they have something amazing?”
“I like the chocolate chimichanga. You’d like the dulce de leche cake. It has a bitter caramel taste, and it comes with apples. I know you love your fruit.”
The waiter came again, and Kris stopped rattling on, which worked for Josh. Kris only babbled when he was upset.
They ordered, and Josh asked where the bathroom was, and the waiter pointed toward the back of the restaurant. “Be right back.”
He made a beeline toward the back, got into the stall, and dialed Zack, his sponsor back home. Please answer. Please.
“Hello?” Zack’s warm drawl made his shoulders fall from up around his ears. Thank God.
“Hey. You got a second?”
“Josh. Sure. You know I always have time for you.”
“I’m in Santa Fe with Kris. I…. Fuck. We’re sharing a room, even. I don’t know if I can survive this.”
“Whoa. Slow down.” He could hear Zack close a door, then shuffle around. “Okay. Spill.”
“He wants to sell the gallery, the building. I came to try to save it. I have to save it, you know?”
Zack was his best friend, his rock, and sometimes the guy who kept him on track.
“I hear you, buddy. What are you doing to save it? Do you have a plan?” Zack was always about the next step.
“I’m going to try and find something new here, something Austin hasn’t seen.” He thought that was possible, really. It was surviving Kris that was going to be hard.
“Then what?” Zack’s voice stayed steady, calming.
“I don’t know. I’m… I love him, still. Tell me I’m stupid and to get the fuck over it.”
“I wish I could. You can’t tell yourself to quit loving someone.” Zack paused. “You can prove him wrong and kick the art world’s ass.”
“I hope so. I… I’m afraid it will be over if the gallery goes. I’m afraid I’ll end up with a brown paper bag on Guadalupe.”
“No. You know we’d never let that happen. We’d find you a way to stay on your feet.” Zack was very big with the “we” statements instead of “I” ones.
“I’m just… argh. Argh argh.” He made a few more Muppet noises, just because he could.
Zack laughed. “You can do this. Just breathe, and remember that you can’t control what Kris does, but you can control how you react.”
“You fucking psychobabble bitch.” Josh adored him.
“Yep. I have the psychology degree to back it up. That’s why I’m a trainer.”
“Ah, the philosopher gym bunny.”
“Don’t you forget it,” Zack teased. “I have a root beer with your name on it when you get home.”
“Yeah? I might have to call again, just because.”
“Anytime. Best thing about being my own boss.”
“Totally. Thanks, man. I needed to hear your voice.” Somehow Zack had become the voice of reason when he couldn’t find his own.
“Knock ’em dead, Josh.”
“I hope so, yeah. Bye, bro. You rock.” He left the stall, washed his hands, and headed back to the table.
Kris stood when he came into sight, his brow furrowed. “You okay?”
“Yep. Travel tummy.” It was a lie, but it worked. Kris didn’t need to know about Zack. Kris would just take needing a sponsor as weakness.
“You need anything? There’s a tourist shop just up a few blocks that sells meds.”
“I might stop before we head home, get some Tums.”
“Sure.” Kris settled back at the table. “They gave us some chips.”
“The guac looks amazing.” He scooped some up, ate it. Oh man. That rocked—spicy and creamy and just right.
“It’s always good here.”
“This is something else. Better than home.”
“Yeah. The salsa is never right, though.” Kris winked.
“Huh?” He tried the salsa, and Kris was right—it wasn’t like home. It was more just ground-up chiles and water. Weird. The guac made up for it, and the chips were fresh.
Every place was different, right?
Right.
Their food came not long after that, and he had to say the enchiladas were superb. Spicy and cheesy, with a crisp edge to the corn tortillas.
He ended up eating half of them, which was better than he’d expected.
Kris wolfed down the tacos, grinning when Josh stared a bit. “Altitude.”
“Right. I’m going to be hungry again in an hour, so I’ll take these home.”
“Cool. I think I’ll get dessert to go so I can snack with you.”
“Rock on. If they have sopapillas, we should eat them hot.”
“They do. I’ll get the cheesecake to take, though.” They ordered coffee and sopapillas and got a box and a cheesecake to go. As if this was so normal.
Like they weren’t about to split the business, one way or the other. When that happened, he’d never see Kris again.
Nausea rose in Josh’s throat, and he swallowed it down. Right now Kris had an attitude of benign neglect to the gallery, but Josh saw him once a week or so.
God, he was becoming a loser.
“Hey.” Kris was right there, hand on his. “You okay?”
“I am. Just in another world. I bet I need more coffee.”
Kris laughed. “Maybe you need less.”
“Less�
� coffee…. Is that possible?” he teased.
“Decaf,” Kris said sagely. “You’d sleep.”
“Decaf is for the weak and stable-hearted.”
“Death before decaf, huh? Oh, sopapillas.”
They smelled like heaven, cinnamon and honey and grease and…. Uhn. Fried bread was his friend.
He ate two, slurping the so-so coffee to wash them down.
“Impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Kris winked at him. “Now I know the secret of getting you fed.”
“Carbs with extra carbs? Heck yeah. Do you remember what I used to eat in college? Ramen sandwiches.”
The gagging noises started right away, and Kris grabbed his chest playfully. Yeah, but then Kris had eaten peanut butter and pickles together on bread. And mustard-covered Saltines.
“You have no room to talk,” he told Kris.
“Yeah, yeah.” Kris sat back and patted his belly, then grabbed the check when the waiter brought it. “I got this.”
“You sure? I have some cash.” He wasn’t destitute. He was just living off Gram’s money.
“I’m sure. You save what you have today. We might need cash in, where is it? Madrid?” Kris wrinkled his nose when he said it.
“May-drid. Not Muhdrid.”
“I think you said that before. Weird. You ready to hit the road and build a fire at that chicken place?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” They hadn’t ever had a fireplace fire together. Bonfires, sure, but not fireplace. Honestly, there was so much they’d never done. Josh hated that shoulda-coulda feeling.
“Cool. We can wander later this week.”
“Yeah. We’ll head up Canyon Road like you said.” He’d read a million Santa Fe guides in the B and B while he’d had his coffee, so now he knew what the string of galleries there had to offer.
They made it back to the B and B, both of them lapsing into silence. Tired, not strained.
Just exhausted from the trip, from the pressure.
Their room looked so comfortable, and Josh kicked off his shoes while Kris got the fire going. He stretched out, his legs sprawling.
“This is nice, Josh. Thanks for making the reservations.”
“You’re welcome.” It was like camping, but without the ants. He wondered if Hal had marshmallows and skewers downstairs.
Kris got his computer out and started working, and Josh watched. He had his laptop, but it was mostly to look up comps. He bought based on instinct more than research.
Restless, he got up and poked at the fire.
“You want to take a bath? I can go downstairs.” Kris nodded at the big tub.
“Huh? No. No, do you? I can go.” Because they’d never seen each other naked. Christ.
“You don’t need to leave, man. I was just trying to be nice in case you’d suddenly got shy.” Kris moved to turn on the tub, giving the jet instructions a good once-over afterward.
“I won’t stare or molest you, I swear.” He wondered how much sex Kris was getting these days. He never heard about a boyfriend or anything.
God knew, Kris liked sex. Or he had. Maybe he was too control freaky now.
“Whatever works, Josh.” Kris winked before disappearing into the bathroom.
He turned the chair so he wouldn’t see the tub, and he grabbed his phone, wishing that he hadn’t called Zack already so he could do it again.
Instead, he texted Danny.
In Santa Fe. Chilly here
Pretty snow?
No snow yet. Just cold
Send pictures if it snows
His assistant had a Texan’s natural fascination with the white stuff.
Josh was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen, but if it did, he totally would.
Yessir
How’s the art?
Danny asked that every single time he traveled, no matter where he went.
I’m trying to find the next big thing
That was his answer, and had been for a couple of years. He was trying his ass off.
Knock ’em dead
He hoped so. God, he hoped so.
The sound of splashing reached him, Kris sliding into the tub.
Don’t look.
Don’t look even a bit.
Open up some game on your fucking phone and play it. Words with Friends. Evil Apples. Whatever.
Anything but Missing Your Ex Like Crazy.
Now there would be a game.
Josh grinned. There was a Voodoo My Ex app, but he wasn’t wanting Kris damaged. No, no. He wanted Kris so hungry for him that the man forgave him for being a fuckup.
“You okay, Josh?” Kris asked, reminding him the man was there and naked a few feet away.
“Yeah. Just goofing off.”
Just fantasizing about your ass. No worries.
“Just making sure. You look tense.” Kris sounded as if he were smiling.
“Do I?” Like Kris could tell. Turd.
“You sure you don’t want a bath?”
Wait. Was Kris asking what he thought? He turned his head, meeting Kris’s eyes in pure shock. “What?”
“You can come in with me. It’s plenty big enough.”
“You don’t mind?” Was he losing his sanity? He’d seen people in movies who watched other people talk but heard something completely different from what they said.
“Nope. It’s like a hot tub, man.”
“Oh. That’s cool.” He couldn’t quite move, really. He just sat there and stared. Kris was so pretty, his hair damp, his eyes bright. He looked…. Josh didn’t know. Relaxed.
Josh could just eat him up.
Seriously.
There was no way he could get in that tub. No way. His dick hurt, it was so hard.
“I’m going to, uh….” Ice-cold shower? Jack off like mad?
“Come on, Josh. Live a little. I don’t mind.” Kris was coaxing now, a tone he remembered well from those first years together when Kris wanted him more than money or sobriety or anything else.
“I’m hard, Kris. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”
“I’m flattered. Now get your ass over here. We might as well just admit we still find each other attractive, rather than be weird about it.”
Kris just confused the living fuck out of him. He stripped off his shoes and socks, his shirt. Then he made his way to the tub, trying to figure this all out. There was something going on here, something Kris wasn’t telling him.
“You don’t have cancer or something, do you?” Josh asked.
“What?”
“I mean it. Are you sick?” That thought deflated him in a rush, and he stripped off his jeans and briefs.
“Not that I know of, no. I had my annual physical in November, and I didn’t have so much as a hernia.” Kris raised both brows now, waiting for his next salvo.
“Good.” He felt a rush of pure relief, enough that his knees felt spongy for a second.
“You okay?” Kris pushed up to standing before reaching out to him.
“I am.” He grabbed Kris’s hand, the connection sharp, electric.
“You looked all pale. I’m fine. I just figure we need to enjoy this trip, and this tub is worth sharing.”
“It is.” He held on to Kris’s hand and sat on the edge of the tub before sliding in. Of course, the edge dragged all along his back on the way, giving him one hell of an Indian rug burn.
When he winced, Kris peered at him, pulling him away from the edge. “You all right?”
“I think so.” Josh turned to show his back. “I scraped a little.”
“Ow.” Kris rubbed at his skin as if to take the sting out.
“Oh.” His head fell forward, chin on his chest.
“That’s it. God, you’re tense.”
He was naked with his Mr. Right. Too bad Kris didn’t want anything from him but his half of a building. No shit, he was tense.
The touches turned into a massage, so slow and gentle, those strong roper’s fingers digging in to ease his hurt.
“There you go.” Kris dug his thumbs in, rolling in lazy circles that felt so good.
“Thank you.” What else could he say? Nothing that would lose him that touch.
There was part of him that was staring into the fireplace, knowing he was dreaming, but he could live with that.
The water lapped at his skin, and Kris’s touch lulled him into a state of half-arousal, half-nap.
Was that a kiss on his nape? Surely not. The gossamer touch held no more weight than a butterfly’s wings. The fog from the nap disappeared like a strong breeze was blowing.
That was a kiss, for sure.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the hope that touch would come again. Those long fingers dug into his shoulders and upper arms, and he felt Kris’s mouth on him again, a whisper touch.
Josh couldn’t stop the moan. He couldn’t. It bubbled out of him and slid out onto the air.
“Shh.” Kris kissed his ear, this time letting Josh feel it. “Just let me.”
God, yes. Please. He nodded, his heart beating so hard it made him dizzy. The water caressed him, adding another layer of sensation, his skin overheating.
Kris’s fingers slid down his back, slipping around to his belly, and his abs tightened so fast he swore he could hear them go sproing.
“Now, don’t get all tense again.” Kris was so close, almost pressing against him.
“Right.” He let himself lean back, touch.
“That’s it.” Now Kris did press against him, chest to his back.
It felt familiar and brand-new, all at once. As if he’d fallen back in time, but he and Kris had never been like this. All college and drunken fumbling.
Now he was sober as a judge and twice as wanton. He wanted to turn about, touch, but he couldn’t risk losing what he had. Especially when Kris pushed lower to touch his cock, making it dance against Kris’s palm.
Josh arched, his fingers white-knuckled on the edge of the tub, his muscles jerking and jumping. He’d fallen and hit his head; that had to be why he was writhing in pleasure, Kris gripping his dick. It was a dream.
Whatever it was, he didn’t want it to stop. Ever.
