by Beth Bolden
If Alex had allowed himself to notice earlier, he would have thought how soft and pillowy Matt’s lips looked, and how much he might want to do more than just look at them. Experiencing them was even better, his blood sluggishly pounding sticky sweet through his veins as he stood there still and let Matt kiss him.
If he kissed Matt back, he’d want to do more than just kiss him. He’d want to slide his hand down those hard-earned abs and feel his hardening dick in its gold lamé wrapping. He’d want to show Matt just how naughty angels could be.
Finally Matt pulled away. His lips were red and wet and Alex couldn’t help it. He swallowed hard, his hands flexing at his sides. Matt’s hand still cupped the side of his neck, warm and reassuring. “I just wanted you to know that I don’t think you’re a failure.” He said it quietly, like he was afraid it would spook Alex.
Alex was not used to anyone being afraid of his darker feelings. He wasn’t used to sharing them at all, or letting potential partners know they even existed.
What he should do now, before Matt walked away, was to tell him that he was a terrible choice for a hookup, but especially for a boyfriend. He should tell him that he didn’t fuck with co-workers, that he had made it his personal mission to never shit where he ate. And yet, he didn’t say any of those things. Couldn’t quite his mouth to work properly. Maybe because he could still feel Alex’s mouth on his own.
“I’ll see you back out there,” Matt continued when Alex still said nothing.
* * *
Alex was going to pretend like nothing had happened.
Matt wanted to be an actor for a reason, and that was because he was good at it, so he employed a few of the skills he’d learned in school and buried the frustration and rejection so far down nobody, even Iron Man, who was scary perceptive, could see it.
He’d noticed Matt’s mood when he’d returned to the VIP section after kissing Alex.
“You hooking up with him?” Sexy Tony Stark had asked, leering a little.
“It’s not like that,” Matt had answered shortly. But it could be, he knew it could be, and it could be so much more than just a casual hookup in a backroom when they were both horny. He’d felt the pain in Alex’s voice when he’d talked about giving up and seen the hope flash when Matt had insisted that he never would.
He hadn’t been lying. He wanted to hear Alex sing. He wanted to see the genuine smile he tried to hide away in favor of that mysterious brooding smirk.
“But you want it to be,” Hulk chimed in.
“He’s hot,” Matt said, like that was all Alex brought to the table, and even he could tell he was lying. So much for being a good actor.
“And there’s that mystery that floats around him like a cloud,” Thor pointed out. “That’s not attractive at all.”
“Okay, I’m intrigued,” Matt admitted. “But I really don’t think he’s interested. I think he just has some sort of weird savior complex.” He forced himself to smile and not think about the kiss that Alex hadn’t really returned. “Are you guys ready for the costume contest?”
Everyone nodded, and after making sure Iron Man’s arc reactor was firmly glued to his chest, Matt left the table to make rounds at the other two tables he’d been assigned after coming back from break.
He saw Alex out of the corner of his eye, pouring drinks and looking even more morose, while still managing to look even hotter. It was pure magic. Annoying, but still magical.
Serving the rest of his tables, he pasted on a happy, charming smile which hadn’t felt so fake earlier, and got everyone pumped up for the costume contest that would be starting shortly, encouraging even some of the shyer clubgoers to get involved.
He’d thought his Sexy Avengers were pretty lame earlier, but they kept claiming they had a secret weapon that would guarantee a win.
“Where’s your secret weapon?” Matt asked as he slid by the Avengers table, shoveling ice into fresh glasses, refilling drinks from the bottles on the table.
“Should be along soon,” Iron Man said. “He had to work late.”
“On Halloween?” Matt ignored that he was working on Halloween. He and Alex and everyone else in this club, from the DJ to the dancers writhing on the stage to the overworked bartenders.
It was something Matt was going to have to get used to if he kept working here. If he could keep working side by side with Alex, and not think about the way he hadn’t kissed him back. He shook his head a little to clear it. He and Alex had only known each other for a couple of hours, he knew he already should have forgotten about it.
But there was the look in those gorgeous eyes as the emotional wall shutting out the world had flickered and then come down, even if only for a split second. That look wasn’t going to leave Matt anytime soon. Not with all the potential it had held.
The music faded from an insistent thump to only a mild pounding, and the DJ announced the costume contest was going to start in five minutes. Everyone participating needed to report to the side of the dance floor.
Matt wasn’t sure what to expect, and tensed, ready to go see to the rest of his tables, but instead there was a mass exodus from the VIP section. As he stood at the edge, watching the long queue form, he felt the presence behind him.
“Should’ve warned you,” Alex said, his voice deep in Matt’s ear, “costume contest is always fucking lit.”
“I hope their secret weapon shows up, otherwise the Sexy Avengers are screwed,” Matt said before he could bite the words back. He didn’t want to start any more unnecessary conversations with Alex. If he was going to keep working here, and god knew he needed the cash the job was going to bring in, they were going to keep things strictly professional between them.
The last thing he needed was cute inside jokes about how bad the Sexy Avengers’ costumes were and how desperately they needed their as-yet-unnamed “secret weapon.”
“You mean the Sexavengers?” Alex teased.
“That’s terrible,” Matt complained, but he was still smiling. Damn him.
“About as good as their costumes, I’d say.”
Matt huffed, refusing to laugh, but finding it more and more difficult.
“Listen,” Alex said, moving closer until Matt could feel his body heat through the cheap polyester fabric of his ugly priest robe, “about earlier. . .”
“Not necessary,” Matt interrupted. “I get it. It was a bad idea.”
Whatever Alex had been about to say next—Matt was certain he was about to agree with him—faded in the loud screams that signaled the beginning of the costume contest.
Instead of continuing with a pointless conversation, they stood and watched the parade of skimpily-clad, imaginatively-costumed men prance across the stage
“The Sexavengers are screwed,” Matt huffed out. He couldn’t believe he was still using Alex’s dumb nickname, but it was far too apt not to use.
“They’re hot, though,” Alex rumbled deeply next to him. “They’ve got that going for them.” He hesitated. “Are you going to give the Hulk your number? Or Iron Man?”
Matt turned, with what he was sure was a gaping look of astonishment on his face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?” Alex retorted defensively. “You’re going to give one of them your number. You’ve been flirting with them all night.”
“I’ve been working. I was flirting with you.”
“So you’re not going to give one of them your number?” Alex asked, and Matt thought he heard hope in his voice.
Matt rolled his eyes. “No.” He was just about to add that he had kissed him in the back, and ask him if he actually remembered that moment in time when a blood-curdling shriek went through the crowd.
“Oh my god,” a voice screeched out, “I can’t believe you almost started without me.”
The crowd parted and the Sexavengers paused at the back of the stage. A tall, very leggy man wearing a black vinyl catsuit stopped at the front and in one swift movement launched himself onto the platform.
“Oh my god,” Matt gasped out as Black Widow reached out, teetering only a tiny bit in his high heeled boots, and high-fived Iron Man.
“The Avengers!” the DJ yelled to the crowd, who responded by screaming even louder as the foursome strode down the runway, playing up their characters the whole way.
“They’re totally going to win,” Alex pointed out, still chuckling. “I hope they still give you a decent tip.”
“What?” Matt demanded. Alex’s gaze was a little too sympathetic for his tastes. He liked the mysterious loner vibe he gave out—he’d like it a lot better though, if Alex would expand his repertoire to include loner plus partner.
“Didn’t I tell you the prize for the costume contest?” Alex asked. “It’s getting your bar tab comped.”
* * *
Alex had to give Matt credit for a lot things.
For not relying too heavily on Alex on a busy night when usually anything could and did happen—the Sexavengers winning the costume contest with their secret weapon, Black Widow, definitely hadn’t been on his radar.
For casually and gently turning down about a dozen requests for his number, including Iron Man and the Hulk. One of the ninjas—the least sullen one, even—had asked for Alex’s, and he’d given out a fake one. Alex wasn’t sure what that said about him, and what that said about Matt.
But most importantly, for not even saying a word as he’d handed the celebrating Sexavengers a bill that came up to exactly zero dollars. He’d held his head high, and on a night when he probably would have made some serious change in tips, probably only got what little cash the guys had carried on them. And considering the brevity of their costumes, that was almost definitely not much.
Alex glanced over to where Matt was scrubbing out one of the ice drawers with a ferocity that definitely translated to a frustration of some kind. Maybe someone braver could have asked him which kind of frustration he was feeling, but Alex had long since made his peace with his lack of bravery.
He’d quit trying to make music his life’s work, hadn’t he?
Even with the bright lights exposing the worn edges and stained floors of the club, Matt still looked as bright as a brand new penny. Alex gazed at his blond head and knew he should go over and apologize.
What was he even sorry for? For jerking him around? For flirting despite his own ironclad rules at work? For not kissing him back? For worrying about him even though he barely knew him?
For wanting to know him so much better?
The last reason settled into him, into his bones and his veins and his head. Into his heart. Because Alex knew that was what he really wanted. He wanted to know Matt so much better.
“I’m sorry.”
Matt glanced up, and there was a definite frown creasing his handsome features. He’d taken off the hideous priest robe and was wearing an old t-shirt and worn athletic shorts. Alex didn’t know if he’d taken off those gold briefs, but there was definitely a part of him that hoped not.
“For being a shitty trainer? Yeah, no worries. I got the memo coming in.”
Yeah, definitely some of that frustration etched on Matt’s face was directly Alex’s fault.
“I was a great trainer,” Alex said quietly. “At least I tried. Patience isn’t my strong suit. But you didn’t need it. You were great tonight.”
“Then what are you sorry for?” Matt demanded. “For rejecting me? For not kissing me back and then asking me who’s number I was getting tonight? For being so god damned worried that I was going to turn into you?”
Alex’s hands clenched into tight fists. He almost wished he hadn’t taken the wings off; when he wore them, he felt stronger and more powerful. Invincible, almost, like a different person. Maybe that was why he’d gotten so caught up with working here, and forgotten how much he wanted to make it as a musician. That was difficult and hard and too real. Working here and donning his angel persona every night was an escape when the rejections in reality kept piling up.
In Temple, with his wings in place, nobody ever rejected him.
Well, one person, but the last person Alex was going to talk to about Ryan Flores was Matt.
“I misjudged you, from the very beginning,” Alex said softly.
“Same,” Matt ground out, and then re-commenced scrubbing, like this conversation and Alex’s admittedly poor apology weren’t worth his time or attention.
And maybe they weren’t, but Alex had been giving up for a long time now, and he wasn’t willing to do it anymore. Not with Matt. Not with a lot of things, if the way he was feeling was right.
“I should have kissed you back,” Alex said. “I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t,” Matt retorted.
“If you’d come over here, we could try it again, see if it goes differently this time.”
Alex might have guessed Matt was unaffected by his offer, because he kept scrubbing away. The ice drawer in that VIP table had probably never been cleaner in its entire existence. But his back tensed, the muscles clearly outlined in threadbare cotton.
“I know you still want to,” Alex added, a little arrogantly. He might not be wearing the wings, but the knowledge of who he was in them still simmered beneath his skin.
Matt glanced up warily. “And if I do? How’s that going to end? With a quick hookup in the backroom that we pretend doesn’t exist in the light of day and every night after this one?”
Alex got tired of waiting for Matt to come to him, so he moved closer and crouched down, so his blue eyes could meet Matt’s straight on. “I can’t promise what’s going to happen tomorrow. I can’t promise anything, except that I want to try. You make me want to try, and nothing has made me want to in a long time.”
He reached out and cupped Matt’s cheek. “I shouldn’t, because we don’t really know each other yet, but I like you. And I think you like me.”
“Everyone likes you,” Matt scoffed.
“Everyone’s intimidated by me. Everyone creams themselves over those stupid wings and the eyeliner and the way I act like they’re all beneath me. I want to give you more than that.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. Alex had no idea that he was going to be so difficult to win over, but somehow that was another bonus in his favor. He was simply unimpressed by all the shit people usually cared about.
“You want to give me your dick,” Matt said flatly.
“Have you seen yourself? Of course, I want to give you my dick,” Alex said, rising and starting to pace back and forth. “But I’m telling you that I want more than that. If celibacy is what will convince you, I’m fully prepared to never give you my dick.”
Matt’s gaze flicked from the ice bin to Alex’s eyes and then lingered at his crotch. “I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”
Alex laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “I was sort of hoping it wasn’t.”
Matt stood and came closer. Much closer. Close enough that Alex could see the gleam of success in those sky blue eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”
Nothing, it turned out. Alex leaned in and kissed him, the exact way he’d wanted to earlier tonight. He wasn’t going to lose his nerve and his chance again.
* * *
Thirteen months later
“Oh god, yeah, just like that baby,” Alex mindlessly crooned as his hands slipped around his boyfriend’s head, fingers digging into his blond hair to the scalp beneath.
Matt, otherwise known as Alex’s boyfriend, must have been listening though, because he kept going, taking his dick in his mouth even further, the pleasure whiting out Alex’s vision.
His fingers tightened and they’d been together long enough—over a year now, which Alex couldn’t quite believe, still—that Matt knew he was about to come, and doubled his efforts, sucking hard and squeezing his balls just the way he liked.
Alex came with a shout, emptying his load down Matt’s throat. He rose to his feet, wiping his mouth, a irr
epressible grin on his face. “I remember a time when you were willing never to give me your dick,” he teased, wrapping his arms around Alex’s shoulders and rubbing his own hard dick a little against Alex’s tensed thigh.
“I’m not sure I really meant that,” Alex confessed.
Matt laughed, and like always, he couldn’t help but feel thankful that nothing, not even ten months working at Temple or thirteen months dating Alex or finally getting a job on an exciting new TV pilot, had been able to dim Matt’s brightness.
“I knew that,” Matt said, rubbing a little more insistently. “You know what else I know?”
“That we need to leave in five minutes?”
“Yes,” Matt said.
“Come here,” Alex said, even though Matt was already practically humping him. He laid his palm right over his dick and Matt was so worked up from blowing him, he came with only a few additional rubs.
“Thanks,” Matt sighed happily, leaning his head against Alex’s chest, right where his heart beat. Before Matt, there were days and weeks and even months where Alex had forgotten he even had a heart. But Matt reminded him every single day, and if that was all he brought to Alex’s life, he’d still be fucking grateful.
The thing was Matt brought so much life and laughter and brightness, not just love, that Alex sometimes felt like he was overflowing with it. So much so that it had started to leak out in little bits of lyrics, and then melodies and then actual songs. And now, tonight, he was set to go perform all those songs for a club full of music executives who, if his agent were to be believed, were all desperate to sign him to a record deal.
“You need to go change now,” Alex said ruefully, dropping a kiss on his hair.
“Yeah, but you were so wound up before, you would’ve gotten to the stage and squawked. Now you won’t.” Matt sounded very satisfied with himself and he should. He was probably a hundred percent right.
