Something Like Winter (45 page)

“
Then you’d be the first,”
Ryan mumbled.

“
I mean it,” Tim said,
looking at him across the top of the car. “I’m not picking you up.
I don’t go for hustlers.”

Ryan eyed him, assessing
the truth of this and then nodded. “I guess guys like you don’t
need to pay.”

Don’t be so sure, angel
eyes! Tim had met plenty of Marcello’s clientele, and some were
very handsome. That usually meant they had weird kinks only escorts
were willing to indulge. Or that they required
discretion.

Tim drove them to Denny’s,
figuring the diner chain was good enough to give Ryan a full
stomach while avoiding a romantic atmosphere.

“
I love their
veggie-burgers,” Ryan said, flipping through the menu. “Have you
tried those?”

“
Nope. I prefer the real
thing.”

“
How do you know if you
haven’t tried?” Ryan raised a thin eyebrow. Were they plucked, or
naturally so fine? With his hoodie pulled back and some color
returned to his cheeks, Ryan’s beauty positively
stunned.

“
How old are you,
exactly?”

Ryan toyed with the straw
of his drink. “Nineteen. You?”

Not jailbait then.
“Twenty-four.”

“
So you already
graduated?”

“
College? Yeah.”

“
Lucky! I still have three
more years. Well, supposedly.” Ryan’s lips grew tight, but he
perked up when the waitress came by. “Two veggie burger platters,
please!”

Tim chuckled. “Is one of
those for me?”

“
Mm-hm.” Ryan nodded, his
expression mischievous. Tim could imagine him being quite the
handful, in more than one way.

“
So tell me why you were
outside that bar, wet and hungry like an abandoned
puppy.”

“
Oh, I like that!” Ryan
grinned, but then his eyes dropped to the table. “It’s just been a
rough month.”

“
How so?”

“
Well, freshman year was
definitely awesome. Instead of getting called a fag every day, I
was meeting all these other gay guys. Finally, you know? If only
high school could have been like that. Anyway, I guess the freedom
went to my head, because when I went home for the summer, I didn’t
stop being me.”

“
You came out?”

“
Yup! First to my mom, who
totally flipped.” Ryan made a face. “She gave me the whole ‘it’s
just a phase’ spiel, which sucked. Then she told my dad, and the
shit really hit the fan. He blamed me, my mother, and eventually
college. I stuck to my guns, but now I wish I hadn’t.”

Tim sighed. “My coming out
story wasn’t quite that bad, but my parents didn’t take it well,
either. I don’t regret doing it, though. Living a lie felt worse.
Believe me, you end up paying the price eventually.”

“
Maybe. It’s too late now
anyway.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “I kept fighting with my parents,
and things got bad enough that they kicked me out. Well, maybe I
threatened to leave. Either way, I’m not going back there. I was
staying with some friends, but then I got in a fight with them over
something stupid.” Ryan gestured down his torso. “And thus the
pathetic creature you see now.”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
Yeah, me too. I’m not a
hustler though. I mean… you saved me just in time.”

“
Yeah?”

“
Yeah.” Ryan looked him
over. “So what do you do?”

“
You mean my job?” Always
an awkward question. “I have a degree in architecture, but I’m on
sabbatical.”

“
What’s that
mean?”

“
It means I’m not working
or doing much of anything right now.”

“
Lucky,” Ryan said
wistfully.

“
I suppose. It gets
boring.”

“
I wouldn’t get bored.”
Ryan’s eyes twinkled as he dreamed. “I would sleep in every
morning, and when I woke up I’d stay in bed until noon watching
television. Then I would get up, take a shower and make myself
pretty so I could order pizza.”

“
Why bother if you aren’t
going out?” Tim asked.

“
Never
let the public see anything but your very best,” Ryan said
with celebrity wisdom. “Even if it’s just a delivery boy. Then I
would take my spoils to the couch and eat slowly while watching
daytime soaps or talk shows.”

“
That’s a lot of TV,” Tim
pointed out.

“
Which is why in the
evening I would grow restless and go out dancing. It’s the only way
to burn off the carbs. Then I would end the perfect day by getting
drunk or whatever.” Ryan cutely crinkled his nose. “In my fantasies
I’m old enough to buy beer, so there.”

Tim shook his head. “Sorry,
but that sounds boring.”

“
Hm,” Ryan mused. “What if
you added another person to the equation? The morning in bed
wouldn’t be spent watching TV, and those daytime soaps are a lot
more fun if you trash-talk them with someone. No need to go on the
prowl in the evening, either, not if you have drinks and music at
home.”

“
It just so happens I do,”
Tim said, willingly taking the bait.

Ryan demonstrated his
bedroom eyes. “Then let’s go.”

Tim mentally took a few
steps back. “I promised you a meal. First we eat. If you really
need a place to stay, you can crash with me this weekend and
fulfill that dream of yours. But you’ll have your own room. No—”
Tim hesitated as the waitress approached with their food, finishing
with a whisper. “No funny business.”

“
Funny business?” Ryan
snorted, then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

When Tim brought him home
later, he was true to his word. After letting Chinchilla out in the
backyard, they made their way upstairs. Tim didn’t offer Ryan a
drink, mostly because he didn’t want one himself, or the weakness
it would bring.

“
This is your room,” he
said, holding open the door.

“
Thanks.” Ryan poked his
head in without much interest. “Listen, do you think I could take a
shower?”

Alone?

“
Sure. Make yourself at
home. It’s been a long day, so I’m going to crash.”

Tim showed Ryan the guest
bathroom and made sure he had everything he needed before whistling
for Chinchilla and heading to his room. Once undressed and in bed,
he lay there with his eyes open, feeling ill at ease about having a
stranger in his home. Then again, what’s the worst Ryan could do?
Steal some things and take off? Tim could afford it.

He rolled over, watching
Chinchilla sleeping in her new bed, the side of her body rising and
falling. The motion was soothing, as was the gentle sound of her
snores. More than once that sound had helped lull him to sleep. He
was drifting off when his bedroom door clicked open. The hall light
burst around a silhouette—lanky hair, a slender frame, and the
scent of body wash.

Ryan walked to the edge of
the bed, but Tim didn’t make a move until the towel dropped to the
floor. Then Tim threw open the covers in invitation. Ryan barely
had one knee on the bed before Tim had sat up to meet his kiss.
Ryan didn’t miss a beat, his lips not leaving Tim’s as he climbed
into bed and straddled him. Then he pushed Tim back against the bed
with surprising force, his tongue tracing a path down Tim’s neck,
across his right nipple, diagonally across his abs to his hip
before returning to the center again.

Tim’s back arched as Ryan’s
mouth was filled. The kid knew his stuff! Adjusting to the
pleasure, he settled, sighing and moaning. He was lost in a cloud
of bliss when Ryan stopped and flopped over to the middle of the
bed. Tim raised his head and opened his eyes to find him on his
stomach, a wild grin on his face. His ass being in the air probably
had something to do with that.

“
Come fuck me,” he
said.

So much for taking things
slow. Casual encounters for Tim rarely involved more than trading
blow jobs. What Ryan wanted was special to him, with a few rare
exceptions. But damn if he wasn’t pretty! Tim grabbed a condom and
lube from the nightstand, hoping that such things didn’t have
expiration dates because it had been a long time. Then he
positioned himself over Ryan, kissing his neck and smelling his
freshly-washed hair while letting his cock rub against Ryan’s inner
thigh.

“
Come on,” Ryan said
impatiently. “Show me who’s boss!”

Tim didn’t like to
disappoint. He bit and nipped playfully at Ryan’s butt cheeks while
getting the condom on, grinning at the
yipes
this caused. He meant to start
slow, a little finger play and a reach around, but Ryan expressed
impatience again.

“
Stop messing around and
give me what I deserve! Fucking use me!”

Unsure how much of this was
just dirty talk, Tim slowly slid inside, but soon Ryan was bucking
against him and begging for more. Spurred on by more trash talk,
Tim let go of his inhibitions and really started pounding him. Only
then did Ryan stop talking and start moaning. The bed shook as
their flesh continued to slap together, Tim grunting in ecstasy,
but he missed those pretty lips.

“
Sit up,” he
commanded.

Once Ryan was only on his
knees, Tim wrapped one arm around his chest and the other around
his neck, holding Ryan’s back flush against his chest as they
twisted their necks to kiss. Tim held him there as he kept
thrusting, Ryan’s breath huffing against his lips, sometimes in his
mouth. Then Ryan squirmed free, falling forward on to his
hands.

“
Slap my ass!”

Tim was already doing so
with his hips, but he started slapping the side of Ryan’s rump,
responding to chants of “harder, harder, harder” until Ryan’s words
became groans. Tim felt more like an animal than a human being,
skin drenched in sweat and nearly howling when they finally came
together. As he recovered from this bestial low, he felt a pang of
guilt, worrying that he had hurt Ryan, had damaged his delicate
beauty. But when they rolled over on their sides, Ryan squirmed up
against him and sighed contentedly.

“
You all right?”

“
Yeah,” Ryan said, then
after a couple beats, “but next time you don’t have to be so
gentle.”

Tim laughed in relief,
wrapping an arm around him and dozing off into an endorphin-induced
sleep.

* * * * *

The weekend of Ryan’s
dreams stretched into ten days. Tim, who had found the idea so
boring, couldn’t get enough. During the day they would sleep in,
waking up for progressively rougher sex. Once purged of these
demons, Ryan was sugar-sweet the rest of the day. Forget the lost
puppy from the first night. Ryan was more like a kitten in the way
he would cuddle up to Tim when they watched TV, head on his lap so
Tim could stroke his hair.

For food they called on any
delivery service they could find, sometimes making brief excursions
together for take-out. Or to stock up on beer or whatever liquor
Ryan was in the mood for that evening. He kept researching
cocktails on the Internet, begging Tim to get the different
ingredients so they could try them. So far they’d had appletinis,
bloodhounds, cosmopolitans, daiquiris, and
el presidentes.
The rest of the
alphabet was sure to follow.

Tim was used to having the
occasional beer, not drinking every night, but he was having fun.
Ryan always got silly when he had a buzz, putting on music and
dancing or making them do dumb things like shutting off all the
lights both inside and out and going for a swim under the stars.
Ryan was always at his side, even in the shower. All he wanted was
to be with Tim, and Tim found all he wanted was to be with
Ryan.

“
We need to get you
something to wear,” Tim said while folding laundry. “I’m tired of
you looking all baggy in my clothes.”

“
Should I take them off?”
Ryan teased. “Or you could take me shopping.”

That sounded good. Fun as
staying in had been, Tim needed to get out of the house for more
than a quick errand. “All right. We’ll go shopping, but I’m not
buying you an entire wardrobe. If you’re going to keep hanging
around, you’ll have to fetch some clothes from home.”

For their shopping trip,
Tim took Ryan to Soco, a neighborhood on South Congress Avenue full
of weird and funky shops. Ryan ran from store to store like he was
on a shopping spree, and Tim had so much fun that he indulged him,
spending more money on clothes and music then he had
intended.

After a quick meal of tacos
from the food trucks at the farmers’ market, they drove by Ryan’s
parents’ home. On the way, Ryan kept insisting the clothes they had
bought were enough, fighting against seeing his family. Tim
promised to take him out for dinner if he went through with it. The
house they pulled up to was big—the neighborhood not quite as
exclusive as Tim’s, but Ryan clearly came from money.

Tim waited in the car, not
wanting to meet Ryan’s family. Their age difference wasn’t too
drastic, but that, combined with Ryan’s parents not accepting his
sexuality, made Tim keep his distance. Besides, meeting the parents
was a big step, and Tim had no idea if this was an extended fling
or something more.