by Payne, Jodi;
Tony wasn’t behind the registers so Elliot nodded to the kid there and moved on. As he made his way down the electrical aisle, he turned sideways so he could pass a guy with strong, wide shoulders who was looking through a box of outlet covers. Elliot didn’t recognize the man physically, but his scent was unmistakable and before Elliot got all the way around the guy, he stopped mid-stride, unable to stop himself from staring.
Tony.
It had been seven years, but Elliot would have remembered the way Tony smelled if it had been seven thousand. That unforgettable scent was the reason Elliot had gotten on the train that morning, the reason he’d walked downtown in the rain, and the reason he was standing in the hardware store right now. He hadn’t told Jenny that, he wouldn’t tell anyone until he knew where Tony stood, but Tony, beautiful Tony with his green eyes and boyish smile, was the reason Elliot had come home.
Elliot’s body remembered that scent, too. Oh, yes.
Reflexively, he reached toward it, slipping one hand over Tony’s muscular shoulder and the other around his hips.
“Hey!” Tony jumped and turned in Elliot’s arms, pushing away from Elliot until their eyes met. “Oh,” he said, going still. He reached up and cupped Elliot’s cheek. “Oh my God, it’s you.”
Elliot nodded and leaned in and kissed Tony hard.
Tony groaned and tangled his fingers in Elliot’s damp coat, and Elliot felt himself being pulled down the aisle toward the back of the store. Together they crashed through a door, and Elliot reached out, fingers fumbling for a lock. He found one, just as Tony was shoving his coat off his shoulders.
“Can’t believe it’s you,” Tony panted, his lips making their way across the underside of Elliot’s jaw.
Elliot let his coat fall to the floor and his fingers went to his own fly, lowering the zipper and jerking the top button open. He hadn’t asked, but Tony’s hand slipped inside anyway and Elliot groaned and let his weight fall against the door. Tony was on his knees in an instant, with sure fingers and a hot tongue, and Elliot’s knees went weak as Tony took him into his mouth.
“Elliot?”
Elliot blinked, momentarily disoriented, the daydream falling away quickly.
“Elliot?” Tony said again, meeting Elliot’s eyes. When Elliot smiled and reached for him, Tony stepped backwards, putting some space between them in the aisle. “Hey, uh…are you okay?”
Elliot sighed and then nodded, crossing his arms over his chest so his coat would close and hide his boner. “Yeah. Yep. Fine.”
They stared at each other, taking in each other’s eyes until the silence grew awkward.
“What are you doing here?” Tony turned away and headed up the aisle toward the registers. Elliot sighed and followed him.
“I had some time. Hadn’t been home in a while, you know?”
“Yeah, like seven years. But who’s counting?”
Tony was still the shorter of the two of them, but he was in far, far better shape. His shoulders were broad and his arms were muscular and Elliot frankly admired the way Tony’s T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. He was clean-shaven and his hair, which was bleached the last time they were in the same room together, had gone back to its natural brown. He used to be hot. Now he was positively incendiary. Elliot wanted to touch Tony so badly his palms itched.
“Yeah. I can’t believe it’s been that long.”
“Practically a lifetime.” Tony stepped behind the counter and handed the kid his notebook. “Stock these for me?”
The teenager nodded. “Sure thing, man,” he said and disappeared in the direction of the stock room.
Tony looked back at Elliot. “I’m going to be closing up here in a minute.”
“Yeah? You want to have a drink or—”
“I’ve got plans, Elliot,” Tony interrupted. “Sorry.”
“Oh,” Elliot nodded. “Okay. Maybe another time then.”
“Maybe.”
Elliot nodded again, searching his mind for something to say but nothing was coming to him. Instead he just glanced down at the counter and bit his lip, then looked back up at Tony. “You look really good, Tony,” he said, but Tony just stared at him, Tony’s eyes asking Elliot to leave. “Okay. Right. I’ll see you later.” Elliot turned his back to Tony and pushed open the door. It was raining hard again and getting colder as the light was fading. He pulled his collar tighter around his neck and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
He’d only gotten a few steps down the block when Tony’s voice rang out behind him. “Elliot!”
Elliot stopped and turned around to find Tony waving him back over. He jogged back through the rain and stepped under the shelter of the store’s awning.
“Wow.” Tony said, squinting at him. “You’re all wet.”
“Yeah. It’s raining.” Elliot took a step closer to Tony, but Tony stopped him, holding a business card between them.
“Store number is on the front,” Tony said. “Home is on the back.”
Elliot smiled and took the card. “I’ll call.”
“You better. You haven’t kept in touch very well.” The words stung, but Tony gave Elliot a smile after he said it and somehow that made Elliot feel better.
“I’m sorry, Tony.”
“Just call me.” Tony winked and disappeared back into the store.
Elliot stepped back out into the rain, but this time he didn’t seem to mind the cold as much.
* * * *
“Leslie and Ruth want autographs,” Elliot’s mother said as she placed a large platter of brisket on the table. It was surrounded by roasted potatoes and sautéed onions and it smelled just as good as ever.
“I don’t do autographs, Ima.”
“Nonsense. You’re famous.”
Victor was famous, Elliot had been an ornament. But he wasn’t ready to go into that yet, so he sighed. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
“I don’t see why you’re not more proud of yourself.
Elliot looked helplessly at his father. “Abba? Please?”
“Leave it, Joyce. Let the boy eat.”
Elliot’s Ima gave his Abba a sour look, but she did drop the subject. “Brisket is your favorite, Elliot,” she said, taking her place at the table. Her tone brooked no argument. Elliot wouldn’t have disagreed with her anyway, she was absolutely right. He served himself several thick slices and went silent as he swallowed it down with red wine and a hunk of challah. He’d been to countless upscale city restaurants, eaten at the homes of the most beautiful of beautiful people, but his mother was still the best cook he’d ever known.
“Staying in town long, son?” Abba asked, looking at him over a bite of bread.
“Don’t know yet,” Elliot replied with his mouth full.
“Got some vacation time?”
Elliot nodded. “Between contracts.”
Elliot’s mother interrupted. “Between jobs? Aw, honey, if you need money, you know you can stay with us.”
“I don’t need money, Ima.”
“He doesn’t need money, Joyce, he needs a job.”
Elliot let them talk and just kept right on eating. He was glad they were arguing, it kept them from asking any more personal questions.
After dinner, his mother sent him up to his room to rest and unpack. He’d have refused just on principle except he really was beat. He’d been disconcerted, though not at all surprised, to discover his room was exactly how he’d left it seven years ago, except it was clean and didn’t have clothing all over the floor. He sat in his desk chair and looked slowly around the room. Half an hour later, his suitcase still sat unopened on his bed and he was taking a walk down memory lane. He’d picked up each of his wrestling trophies one by one, remembering the shouting of his teammates, the smell of sweaty teenage boys, and how he used to come home and jerk off in the shower after nearly every match. He’d known then that he was into guys, but for a long while he’d never heard the words “homosexual” or “gay” ever mentioned and so he just kept
that fact to himself.
He stopped in front of his desk again and took a few of the pictures off the bulletin board; one of Linda Delorca and him at her sweet sixteen party and one of the astronomy club after a trip to the planetarium. He winced at what he was wearing in both pictures and at the length of his hair and then put them back, trading them for two more. He smiled at Jenny, dressed up for senior prom. Jenny had been a popular girl and could have gone to prom with anyone, but she chose to go as his date even though she knew he was gay. The other picture was of Tony Viggiano and him in their wrestling uniforms. They’d been co-captains of the wrestling team junior and senior year. By the end of senior year they were wrestling in other ways, and with a lot less clothing, in Tony’s tiny attic bedroom.
With a sigh, he put the pictures back on the corkboard. When put in terms of his virginity, seven years suddenly felt like a very long time ago, a lot longer than it had when he’d made the decision to come back home.
He turned away from the pictures and started to unpack, putting his clothes into drawers like his mother used to, making sure the socks and underwear were in the top drawer, then shirts and sweaters, then pants and jeans. He was too anxious to sleep so he pulled a record at random off a shelf under his old stereo. Led Zeppelin, Houses of the Holy. He grinned and put it on the turntable, getting a little thrill when he found it was still working. He turned up the volume, then laughed at himself and turned it down to something more reasonable before flopping on his bed.
Thinking about Tony made him shake his head. One whiff and his perverted little brain had them fucking in the back room. God, but Tony had smelled so good, just the same as always—maybe even just a hair stronger. And that body. Damn. Elliot let his eyes slip closed as he brought up an image of those arms. Tony had definitely taken good care of himself. Elliot hadn’t been a slouch, he ran every morning and tried to eat carefully, but Tony was cut. The man clearly spent a good long time at the gym building up because Tony looked better in that hardware store than in the hottest of Elliot’s dreams.
Elliot pushed his fingers into his waistband and deftly opened his fly before tugging his cock free. He’d been half hard since seeing Tony that afternoon and he groaned at his own touch and the eventual, breathless relief it promised. Tony’s soft smile danced just behind his eyelids, teasing him. Elliot imagined the way Tony’s body would move under him, the muscles in his arms straining under his own weight, his thighs bunching and releasing in time with Elliot’s thrusts.
They’d never fucked back then, just thrust and rubbed against one another, or jacked and sucked each other off. But all the same, Elliot could see it, the two of them making love like they knew each other’s bodies as well as their own.
Elliot planted his feet and lifted his hips off the bed, thrusting urgently into his fist. “Yes,” he whispered. He had no right to be bringing himself off to visions of Tony’s naked body writhing under him, he didn’t even know if Tony wanted him that way anymore. But he’d been thinking about the man, his first lover and quite possibly his first love, for close to a year and now he was home, now he’d seen Tony, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
He was close. He was stunned he’d gotten there so fast and he hastily tugged his shirt out of the way, exposing smooth, heated skin stretched tightly over respectable abs, which were heaving with the effort of one ragged breath after another. The tension coiled tighter in his gut and his cock suddenly turned to granite in his fingers. He gulped for air, moaning as he shot; a hot, milky fountain soaking his fist.
He let himself ride it out, relaxing as the tension left his body and his breathing slowed. Thoughts of Tony slipped from him along with consciousness and he fell into a deep sleep.
* * * *
There was no sign of rain the following morning.
Elliot went for an early morning run, using the time to explore a few areas of town he hadn’t seen the day before. It felt good to be home. The air was clean, the streets were quiet, the traffic was practically non-existent, and the few people he passed actually smiled at him even though they didn’t know him.
Main Street was more awake, with people running quick errands before work and shops opening their doors to the crisp, sunny early spring morning. Elliot slowed to a walk and made his way to the diner for breakfast, hoping Jenny would be there. He was pleased to find her behind the counter.
“Hey,” he said with a smile and sat on one of the stools at the counter.
“Good morning. You’re up early.” Jenny sat a cup of coffee in front of him.
“I had to get out of the house.”
Jenny laughed. “I can imagine.”
“I haven’t lived with my parents in a long, long time.” He actually hadn’t even seen them this morning, but somehow he still felt claustrophobic in his little room with his twin bed. He hadn’t slept in a twin bed since he left home.
Jenny tilted her head. “So you’re moving back here?”
Elliot looked up from his coffee sharply. “Did I say that?”
“Oh, not as such.”
Elliot went back to his coffee, but he knew Jenny; she was too damn perceptive and she was going to dig deeper eventually.
“What are you eating?”
“How about oatmeal? And a couple of scrambled eggs.”
Jenny nodded and stuck his order up in the pass-through window. “So, how’s the city?”
Elliot squinted at her, reading the subtext. Even after all these years they knew each other well. “Crowded, smelly, dirty, polluted.” He shrugged.
“Lonely?”
Elliot raised an eyebrow and met her eyes. “Some.”
“What’s it like working with the biggest real estate mogul in the city?”
Elliot shrugged. “I don’t work for him anymore.”
“Oh.” Jenny looked at him. “Why not?”
“Contract ended.” The kind of contract wealthy, older bachelors usually offered younger, wide-eyed, naive men.
“I see.”
“Okay, I quit.”
“Ah.” Jenny clearly didn’t believe him. “Well, if it wasn’t working out…”
“Look, I was basically fired. Okay?”
Jenny grinned at him triumphantly. “Basically?” she asked, refilling his coffee.
“Damn it, Jenny.”
Jenny leaned across the counter and kissed him on the nose. “Elliot, sweetheart, don’t bother. I’m not letting this go.”
Back when he was in high school, he told Jenny everything. There was a time when he thought, in a well-intentioned but misguided teenage way, he might try to ignore his sexuality questions and marry her. When he moved away, they kept in close touch for a year or so, but Elliot had been quickly distracted by college and the allure of a city where he could finally be himself, and he became a very, very poor friend.
He did feel like he and Jenny had somehow managed to just pick up their friendship where they left off. She wasn’t holding a grudge and he didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable trusting her.
“Victor told me it had been fun, that I should feel free to come by and use the pool and then he put his arm around his new boy-toy and waited for me to go.”
“Asshole.”
“Not really, I knew what it was really about from the beginning, you know? He was offering me the limelight and bragging rights in exchange for my body on his arm and my ass in his bed. I knew that. I was never in love with him.”
“You sure?”
Elliot had asked himself the same question many times. “Yeah, I’m sure. I wanted to be. I even tried to be, but there’s really nothing there to love but his money.”
“How long ago?”
“About six months.”
“Six months?” Jenny looked stunned. “What took you so long to come home?”
Well, that was easy. Ego. Embarrassment. The idea that coming home was going to mean he’d have to shed some light on the life he’d been living and own up to the lies he’d told. So far he’d been
well received back home, but he was going to have to reconcile the past with some people and ask forgiveness of others—like Tony—before he could start fresh.
He wasn’t perfect, no one was perfect. But he’d made more than his share of stupid mistakes and told more than a handful of willful lies to cover for his lifestyle as Voctor’s fucktoy. He wasn’t the man these people, these old friends, thought he was. The truth was probably going to sting a little, and not everyone was going to take it well, like his parents, for example. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Order up!” Jenny’s dad shouted from the pass-through window.
Jenny gave Elliot a long, hard look and then went to get his breakfast. “So, did you see him?”
“Tony?” Elliot smiled. This was a much better line of discussion. “Oh my God, yes. Damn, Jenny, he’s built like a brick shithouse.”
Jenny laughed. “He’s not that big.”
“Okay, no, but he was never pumped like that. He never had arms like that, his chest wasn’t so…wow.” Elliot felt his cock stir and laughed at himself. “Holy shit.”
“I know!” Jenny nodded appreciatively. “And it happened out of the blue, too. Like, two years ago he just walked in here one morning, told me he was sick of being cute, asked for a protein-loaded breakfast and the rest is history.”
“Well, I was impressed, to say the very least.” Impressed didn’t come close to his reaction at all. Didn’t even graze it.
“I told you he’s single, right?” Jenny offered, with a little, leering grin.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. He told me he had plans last night.”
Jenny waved him off. “Yeah, he goes to some book club thing once a month.”
A book club? Elliot was surprised but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because they’d spent so much time sucking each other off senior year he didn’t realize Tony knew how to read, too. “And that was last night?”
