by Trina Solet
"Yeah, someone should definitely get a grip," Mack said as Enzo glared at him. It seemed they were obsessed by completely different things. Mack wondered if he should be jealous of that turkey.
Meanwhile Enzo got the turkey out of the fridge and was making faces at it. "Look at it all pale, like a cadaver. It was supposed to be beautiful with crackling skin like wood varnish."
"Neither of those sounds appetizing. You could never be a food writer," Mack told him.
"I'm just mad at myself."
"Get mad at the power company."
"Them too. It was going to be my first time making a turkey and there was going to be gravy too." Enzo pouted.
"I think you need to put that turkey back in the fridge," Mack told him, but Enzo wasn't ready to give up.
"Maybe we could..." He looked around, desperate to salvage things.
"We could what? Start a fire? Roast it over an open flame? Burn down the apartment?"
"I'm sorry," Enzo said looking so disappointed.
"It's not your fault. The power went out. We'll order pizza."
"Back to plan A?" Enzo said, looking even more distressed.
Mack corrected him. "No. Plan A was me eating pizza alone. This is much better."
Enzo stuck the turkey back in the fridge with a sigh. "I wish it could go in the freezer. It's cooler than the fridge. But the fat bastard won't fit."
"You can cook it as soon as the power comes back on," Mack said to be positive.
"And have dinner at midnight?"
"Or whenever. It's a good thing I didn't let you start. We'd have a half cooked turkey," Mack realized.
"Don't pat yourself on the back for seducing me," Enzo said, looking at him sharply. "I didn't promise you sex. I promised you a real Thanksgiving dinner."
"You didn't want me to be alone on Thanksgiving, and you definitely delivered," Mack told him.
"You mean?" Enzo pointed to the spot on the floor where they fucked.
"I mean everything, cooking together, not being alone, and yes, that too," Mack told him and tilted his head toward the floor. "I know that wasn't a dignified place to have sex."
"Dignified sex? That exists?"
"No. Sex is very, very undignified."
"And awesome," Enzo added with a grin. He blushed and turned away. He made an unhappy noise as he looked at the coconut and other ingredients that were supposed to go in his pudding. "My mom is from Cuba. She used to make boniatillo for all the holidays."
"Sorry you didn't get to make it."
"I probably wouldn't have done it justice anyway. It's part of all my holiday memories – running around with the cousins, getting kicked out to play outside rain or shine because we got so unruly."
"You unruly? I can't quite see it."
"I can get unruly when someone is being a bad influence on me." Enzo pointed an accusing finger at Mack.
"At least you have some good family memories. I don't remember my mom at all. She died when I was two. All I remember about my dad is how he used to crush beer cans flat and curse at his girlfriends."
"What happened to him?"
"I have no idea," Mack said with a shrug. "When I was six, my dad left me at his girlfriend's house and never came back. I stayed with her for a few months while she tried to find someone to take me. She was a nice lady. But then she got a new boyfriend, and he wasn't so nice. He didn't want me around, and I ended up in foster care."
"It wasn't all bad, was it?"
"No, but you learn to protect yourself from the bad and from the good."
"Why from the good too?"
"Because it can't last. And when it's over, it hurts. When I had to leave a nice family..." He trailed off, but he couldn't hide the pain he felt after all those disappointments. He was sad and uncomfortable until Enzo snapped him out of it.
"No point standing around here. Let's grab some sodas and text our woes to everyone we know," Enzo said and led the way to the living room.
With drinks in hand, they sat down on the couch. Mack didn't have many people to text, but Enzo's fingers were a blur. He was letting out all his frustration about his ruined dinner plans on his unsuspecting friends.
"Everyone has been updated and the messages of sympathy and support duly received," Enzo announced and put his phone away.
He smiled at Mack, but the smile quickly dissolved. Mack saw the familiar, apprehensive look come back to his eyes.
"It's almost like you're afraid to smile around me all of a sudden. Am I that bad?" Mack asked.
Enzo regarded him with a frown. "It's because we're sitting here so close together. You were a little spooked before when I got too close. Don't you start thinking of me as the enemy."
"I don't think I could ever do that."
"Good," Enzo said, but he didn't press him just leaned back on the couch sideways so he was sitting facing Mack. "OK. I'll sit here, behave myself, and try not to take advantage of you."
"I feel much safer now," Mack said.
They were both trying to ease the tension, but the tension only kept building. Mack didn't know what to do. Or he did know, but he wanted to hold himself back.
It didn't work. Enzo promised to behave, but Mack didn't. He moved closer until he was sitting right next to Enzo. At first Enzo looked surprised then delighted. The happy glint in his eyes was irresistible to Mack.
He threw his arm over the back of the couch and leaned in. Enzo smiled but didn't encourage him. Mack inclined his head toward him inch by inch. Enzo started to breathe faster then he gasped softly as Mack's lips barely touched his earlobe.
Mack stroked his hair, soft, silky sliding between his fingers. Letting out a low moan, Enzo leaned into his touch. He turned until the back of his head rested in the palm of Mack's hand. Enzo's eyes were melting, slowly looking up from his mouth to his eyes.
Mack tried not to even breathe, but he ended up breathing too fast, like he had been running for miles and couldn't catch his breath. If Enzo kissed him now, he would die. Then he did die. Enzo's lips pressed gently against his then opened with just enough pressure.
His tongue slipped forward to lick at Mack's bottom lip. Mack searched for it with the tip of his own tongue. He grunted and forgot all about breathing as their tongues danced together. He was so lost in the kiss. His whole being flowed into Enzo, trembling with need until Enzo drew back and took a big lungful of air.
"If we don't pace ourselves, we're going to suffocate," Enzo said.
Mack was out of breath too so he had to agree. He sat back, gazed at Enzo and wondered how he managed to sneak past all his defenses.
Chapter 7
Before that kiss, Enzo had been worried. Earlier, when the after-sex glow was gone, it seemed like they were just two guys who got off together. He wondered if sex with Mack was going to be just one good memory and nothing more-- a fuck, a dinner, and then back to being roommates again.
Still, he got lucky. Not everyone got to have an amazing first time. OK, the location wasn't ideal, but it was so right in every other way. It was so crazy good, Enzo didn't know how he would go back to cooking after that. And then it turned out he couldn't. He was so bummed that he wouldn't get to make a real dinner for Mack, not in time anyway.
Now Enzo was happy again. Today was such a roller coaster ride. Things were going wrong. Other things were going right. He was sitting on that awful couch with Mack and they had kissed. If he could, Enzo would just stare at him, maybe climb into his lap. At the same time he wanted to ask him a million questions.
He was afraid to though. If he said the wrong thing or asked the wrong question, the divide between them might grow wider and deeper. But he wanted to find out more about Mack. He wanted to know everything about him, but he was caught off guard when Mack asked him about himself.
"You pretty much said you were trying to recreate your family holiday dinners. Are you going to be OK if that doesn't happen?" Mack nodded toward the kitchen serving window where nothing was happening.
"I'll be crush
ed, but I'll live," Enzo said with an exaggerated sigh.
"Leaving that kind of sentimental stuff behind is part of growing up, right?" Mack said.
Enzo turned to glare at him. "I plan to cling to the sentimental stuff till the day I die," he vowed.
Mack drew back a little and grinned at him apologetically. "Sorry. I guess I'm just jealous of anyone who had it good."
"I had a family, if that's what you mean. And we did have Thanksgiving around a big table, lots of relatives there."
"So you're saying it's not all it's cracked up to be?" Mack said.
"My dad grew up with a definite idea of what guys should be like. He had two brothers. All of them were manly guys, doing manly things, and they expected their sons to be the same. My cousins pretty much lived up to that. The guys, I mean, not the girl cousins."
"And you didn't fit the bill?" Mack said.
Enzo was no one's idea of manly. "You're looking at me," he said with a shrug.
"And I don't see one thing wrong," Mack told him after letting his eyes roam all over him.
"My dad would have liked having you as his son." Enzo looked Mack up and down and nodded with approval.
Mack didn't agree. "I doubt it. I tend to rub people the wrong way."
Enzo smiled at his words. Mack could be kind of abrasive, but he didn't really mind. He was a good guy at heart. The more time Enzo spent with him, the more he liked him.
"What about your mom?" Mack asked.
Thinking of his mom, Enzo sighed. "I'm not sure how she would have felt about me if it wasn't for my dad. But my dad blamed my mom for the way I was, and that made her angry with me. She kept telling me to try being like other guys, try liking sports. She just wanted me to stop making my dad mad at both of us. But I didn't know how. I was trying. When I watched sports with my dad, he would get mad if I said anything during the game or the boxing match or whatever. Then he would get mad if I didn't say anything, and say I wasn't paying attention. And I was no good at playing sports. That was hopeless. I had the wrong friends, of course. All of them unmanly guys just like me. When I was friends with girls instead of going out with them, that was a problem too. By the time I was in high school, I knew I would never be good enough for my dad, never be manly enough. I pretty much stopped trying."
"You shouldn't have to try. There is nothing wrong with you. You just had the wrong parents," Mack told him, sounding angry on his behalf.
"That's one way to look at it," Enzo said with a smile. "When I was getting ready to go off to college, I could see them giving up on me. I was a lost cause. They stopped yelling. And after a few months at school, they stopped calling me. When I called home, they barely wanted to talk to me. My mom only said a few words, like she couldn't wait to get off the phone. My dad wouldn't even pick up the phone. I found out from one of my cousins that they knew I was gay."
"You said you didn't come out to them," Mack said.
"No, I'm not that brave. Word got around. A girl here whose parents know my parents. That kind of thing. My cousin also told me that this year Thanksgiving is at our grandmother's house. My parents didn't tell me. They didn't want me there. I think they're ashamed of me now."
"Don't let them get you down," Mack said. It sounded almost like an order. Enzo wouldn't mind obeying if he could.
"I'll buck up. I know I didn't have it as bad as you did." In Enzo's life there were no beatings just constant disapproval. As he looked at Mack, he saw his jaw clench and his expression turn dark.
"It's not a contest," he said through gritted teeth.
And there it was. Enzo had said the wrong thing. Mack turned his eyes to him filled with deep hurt and anger, but Enzo knew that the anger wasn't meant for him. It was just spilling over. Mack was showing him what was inside him, and Enzo wouldn't run from that.
*
When he turned to him, Mack expected to see pity written all over Enzo's face. What he saw was a more hardened look, like Enzo was steeling himself for what would come next. OK then. Mack would tell him.
"I've been threatened, beat up, raped. I don't even remember what holiday it was when I could hear the family in one room, talking, laughing, glasses and silverware clinking. And I was waylaid in another room with a grown man grunting and sweating on top of me."
"Sorry," Enzo whispered and hung his head like he had done something wrong.
"I'm sorry. Those are like the punctuation marks in my life, but sometimes it seems like that's all there was. Those kinds of things poison everything." Mack took a deep, shaky breath. All his life, guys wanting to act tough, let out their rage and frustration on him. He survived them. Now he sure as hell wasn't going to be one of them. "Sorry. I'm not good company, especially on holidays. That's when I get slapped in the face with everything that went wrong and everything I'm missing. I feel robbed and cheated, and I spoil things for a nice guy just trying to make me dinner."
Now Enzo looked up, his eyes bright again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Sorry," Mack said again. He hated apologizing. It was drilled into him that it was a sign of weakness, but he didn't mind if it was Enzo. A lot of things were easier with Enzo than with anyone else. He let Mack be himself. He was starting to realize that it wasn't just that Enzo was quiet that made him nice to live with. He had a good vibe. He was like an angel walking around a tiny, cramped apartment and turning it bright and livable.
As he was thinking this, Mack felt Enzo's hand on his. The shock of sudden contact made him jump. Enzo took hold of his fingers and squeezed them. He held on to Mack's hand as if he would never let it go. The whole time Enzo was looking straight ahead like they were both supposed to pretend he hadn't done anything.
But holding his hand was just a start, an ignition point. Mack turned on the couch, almost rolling on top of Enzo. As he leaned over, Mack put one arm around him. Enzo was still pretending that nothing was happening though the corners of his lips quirked up. Mack touched their foreheads together and watched Enzo's eyes close, his eyelashes fluttering restlessly.
They were both breathing hard, and Mack asked himself what was he after. Not just to get off. He wanted to be near Enzo, close to him, touching him. His hand moved up Enzo's leg and over his hip. Finding a way under his shirt, Mack took a hissing breath as he felt the heat of Enzo's body under his fingers.
His eyes closed and he nuzzled his neck. With a moan he fell against Enzo, collapsed into him. He inhaled like he could breathe Enzo into his own body.
Mack never imagined there was so much more than sex. He kissed Enzo's neck like he was discovering him. His lips moved slowly, savoring Enzo and every breath and moan he let out. He kissed along his jaw to his chin. Placing one last kiss there he raised his eyes to Enzo, desperate to look into his hazel eyes.
Mack thought their fuck on the floor might be the last time he touched him. It hurt his heart to think that. But now his heart hurt in a different way because he was touching Enzo, and he was smiling at him like an angel. Enzo tilted his face up to accept his kiss. Kissing him tenderly, Mack pressed him back and down until he was lying on top of him.
Mack didn't know how long they kissed, grinding against each other but never pushing it past the point of delicious, unsatisfied ache. It was an endless, rising pleasure, like a dream. Then they were both gasping for breath and Enzo was holding him tight.
When Mack raised his head, he found Enzo watching him intently. "What's that look?" Enzo asked. "It's not as bad as before, but it's kind of gloomy for what we just did."
Mack leaned down and kissed him lightly, like a tiny pledge. "I'll try not to go gloomy on you. But you make me feel so good, so right, and I don't trust that feeling."
For a moment Enzo's hand was on his chest, and he didn't dare breathe. Then his hand was gone. As he started breathing again, he felt as if Enzo had placed his hand directly on his heart.
That's how close Mack had let him get. He had already shared more with him than anyone ever before. How the hell did
Enzo get so close so fast? Mack had let his guard down, all the way down. But he had never been with a guy like him, so open and nice. Lying there with him like that, he was in heaven.
"Sorry I keep running hot and cold. I don't mean to mess with your head," he said to Enzo.
"It's OK. I kind of understand."
Mack was surprised that he wanted him to understand. He was the first person he ever wanted to see inside of him. "I feel threatened, I guess, even when there's no threat. I'm on my guard just from habit, and letting someone close sets off all the alarms. And you are close, so unbelievably close."
Enzo smiled up at him. He knew the significance of those words, but Mack wanted to explain himself anyway.
"You're close physically and close to what I feel, to everything inside me that hurts." Enzo had reached tender spots, old wounds that never healed. "It's been such a long time since anyone has touched me. Since anyone has touched me with kindness, I mean."
"That wasn't kindness. That was... It was more. I have feelings for you," Enzo confessed.
"The same feelings I have for you?" Mack asked in a breathless whisper, afraid of his own words and Enzo's too.
"I don't know," Enzo said shyly. "Maybe."
"Now you're timid again," Mack noticed. It was strange to see glimpses of the Enzo who had moved through the apartment like a ghost, afraid to disturb him.
"You are an intimidating guy. All this time I've been trying not to have feelings for you," Enzo confessed.
"I scared you? Sorry. I got so used to acting tough. I didn't know how to turn it off."
"You had to get tough," Enzo said with understanding.
"Didn't do much good until I could back it up with some muscle. Not having the power to defend yourself that's as powerless as it gets, and it was that way every day of my life. For me, it came down to get stronger or kill myself."
"No," Enzo gasped.
"I'm OK now. But all of that baggage is what makes me so shitty to be around."
"You are not. You're great. If I'd known you were gay, nothing would have stopped me from getting to you," Enzo said with a smirk.
