Something Like Winter (58 page)

“
You got it.”

In the far distance they
could hear a
mariachi
band. They had their own boats too, roving musicians who would
play for money, and while Tim normally found that music annoying,
the way the songs floated ethereal through the evening air made
them sound beautiful.

Tim pressed his nose
against Ben’s neck, kissing him there. “Come back to the table. We
have to eat some of this food or Nana will never forgive
us.”

They picked at the
leftovers, offering the rest to the boat owner to take home.
Hopefully the guy had a huge family. Then they sipped beers,
looking out across the water as the boat slowly brought them home
again. They were dropped off at Nana’s house directly, where they
squeezed through a gap in the old fence.

Tim held up two bottles
he’d grabbed on the way off the boat. “Want another beer before we
go in?”

Ben didn’t answer, looking
at him with an expression that probably matched Tim’s own. He saw
lust there, but it was more than that. Interest. Longing. Love. Tim
set down the beers.

“
We’re starting over,” he
said. “This is the first day we met.”

“
Strange place to meet,”
Ben replied.

“
Not right here,” Tim said
“I met you earlier in the day. You were wandering the streets and
looking sad.”

“
Why was I sad?”

“
That’s the first thing I
asked you.”

“
In Spanish?” There was a
glimmer in Ben’s eye.

Tim grinned in response.
“You like that, don’t you?”

“
Well,” Ben said coyly, “I
figure I’m a lost tourist. You’re the helpful native.”

“
Okay. I came up to you and
said, ‘
¿Por qué estás tan triste, mi
hermoso muchacho? Déjame que ahuyente esas nubes que ensombrecen tu
rostro.
’”

Ben leaned against the wall
of the house. “And I said, ‘Huh?’”

Tim laughed. “So I tried
again in English. ‘Beautiful boy, why do you look so sad? Let me
chase away those clouds from your face.’”

“
How will you do that?” Ben
asked.

“
Con un
beso.
”

Before Ben could ask what
this meant, Tim stepped forward to show him, placing one hand
against the wall and gently pressing his lips against Ben’s. Then
he pulled back, basking in the resulting smile. “See?” he said.
“There it is. The sunshine, even in the middle of the
night.”

Ben took a deep breath. “I
was sad because I was lost. That’s what I would tell you. But now
that you’ve found me, maybe you can take me home with
you.”

“
And that’s how we ended up
here.” Tim gave a nervous chuckle. “Apparently we took a boat home.
Let’s go inside.”

Ben nodded.

The house was silent, with
only a single light on in the living room. Tim glanced at the note
Nana had left. They were to sleep in the sewing room. Taking Ben’s
hand, he led them through the house and up the stairs, relieved
when they arrived in the room without waking Nana. Holding his
breath, he shut the door as quietly as possible and turned to Ben.
Then they both smiled. Sneaking upstairs to a bedroom sure brought
back memories.

The small bed in the corner
was freshly made. Ben sat on the edge and took off his shoes. Tim
kicked off his own impatiently, desperate to be near Ben, but he
also knew what this moment meant. The last time Ben had shared a
bed with someone had been his final moments with Jace.

Tim turned off the light
and opened the window, letting in the sounds of the night—traffic,
insects, voices, and the lapping of water on the shore—all
reminders of the different world they were in. Hopefully this would
keep painful memories away. Then he moved to the bed where Ben
still sat.

Tim ran his fingers through
Ben’s hair and bent down for a kiss. Ben took hold of him, leaning
back and pulling him in. They shifted and scooted, lips never
parting as they maneuvered the rest of the way into bed. Tim
stripped off Ben’s shirt, then his own, as Ben worked at their
pants. Before he could get too far, Tim wrapped his arms around Ben
and rolled over, kissing him deeply, wanting nothing ever again but
this.

If Ben wanted to stop
there, if he only wanted Tim to sleep next to him the rest of the
night, he could have been satisfied with that. But even at the
worst of times, they had always shared the same appetite. Ben moved
his hands back down to their belts, and this time Tim let him do
what he wanted, putting his hands behind his head as Ben finished
undressing him and then stood to take off his own clothes. Tim
glanced over, Ben standing at the side of the bed as he kicked off
his jeans. In the dim light of the room, he was a dark silhouette,
the edge of his body illuminated with light from the window, neck
shiny with saliva where Tim had kissed him last.

“
Come be with me,” Tim
said, reaching out a hand. He meant more than just this moment,
this simple act. Ben responded, crawling into bed, and for awhile
all they did was hold each other. He waited for Ben to cry, feeling
relieved when he didn’t, but still he took it slow. Rolling over on
his side, he let his fingers trace up and down Ben’s skin,
delighting in each shiver he caused. Then Ben began to reciprocate,
rubbing his hands over Tim’s body just like he used to, exploring
him.

“
Any new scars?” Ben
asked.

“
None you can see,” Tim
said, but his breath caught in his throat when Ben kissed his
chest, his stomach, and then traced a path south with his
tongue.

“
Hold on!” Tim said,
grabbing Ben’s shoulder. “That’s exactly what I want to do to
you.”

Ben resisted, wearing a
mischievous grin. “We’re starting over, and if you’ll
recall,
you
were
first.”

“
That was then,” Tim said,
but an idea occurred to him. “
Sesenta y
nueve.
”

Ben paused as he tried to
recall his high school Spanish. Then he snorted. “It sounds so much
more romantic in your language.”

“
It’s not romance I’m going
for,” Tim replied.

Ben’s gaze could have made
a volcano sweat. Crawling down to the end of the bed, he swung his
legs over each side of Tim’s head. Tim was tempted to make a joke
about the Sword of Damocles, but instead he moaned in pleasure—Ben
having claimed his prize at the other end. The sensations made Tim
writhe before he regained control. He put a hand on Ben’s butt to
bring his hips lower so he could return the favor.

They risked small moans and
whimpers as their hips pumped, rolling to their sides, then over
again with Tim on top. Though he felt he could ride these waves of
ecstasy forever, he wanted to get back to those lips of Ben’s that
drove him wild. Tim crawled in a quick circle, lifting one of Ben’s
legs with his shoulder as he sought another kiss.

“
Do you think we can—” Tim
let the question hang.

“
Have any lube?” Ben
asked.

They glanced around the
room in mad hope, finding only a sewing machine, doily-covered
lampshades, and a statue of the Virgin Mary who appeared more smug
than scandalized. Tim laughed. “Guess Nana is fresh
out.”

Ben’s finger traced a path
across Tim’s pecs, running circles around one of his nipples.
“Remember when we used to kind of fake it? Before I got up the
nerve the first time.”

Tim grinned at the memory,
adjusting his hips. Both of Ben’s hands lowered to hold their cocks
tightly together. Tim began pumping, eyes locked on Ben as they
rediscovered this old game. Then the sensations made them somber,
Tim leaning forward and kissing Ben as he thrust harder and faster.
He moved his kisses to Ben’s chin, tracing the jaw line with his
tongue before nibbling on his neck. Tim was leaking enough pre-come
that Ben’s hands were slick. He wondered if it would be enough to
do more without needing lube when the thought sent him over the
edge.

Ben’s muscles tensed, his
breath held, so Tim kept pumping until Ben bit his lower lip to
keep from moaning. Then Ben’s breath came out as a sigh and he
relaxed. Tim gently lowered on to him, holding himself up just
enough to keep from crushing Ben with his weight. Their heaving
breaths soon turned to hisses of quiet laughter.

“¿Ya no estás
triste,
mi mariposa
hermosa
?
” he
asked. “No longer sad, my beautiful butterfly?”

“
No.” Ben shook his head
with a dopey grin. “Not anymore.”

* * * * *

«I’ve been going to a new
church,» Nana said. She stretched her legs out straight, pushing
back into her favorite recliner and wiggling her toes before she
put her legs back down.

«That’s nice,» Tim said,
turning his attention back to the Spanish-English dictionary he was
thumbing through. Being back in Mexico City always made him aware
of the holes in his Spanish. The other day he was trying to ask a
shopkeeper for aftershave and had to settle for saying “face water”
instead.

«If you were staying
longer, you could go to church with me,» Nana continued. «You would
like it.»

He doubted that!

«Can’t you stay longer?»
Nana pressed.

«No. The flights are
booked, and even if we changed them, Ben has to go back to work. So
do I.»

«You must like him a lot to
bring him here. I always pictured you bringing a beautiful American
girl to meet me one day, but I like Ben.»

Tim listened to make sure
the shower upstairs was still running before he remembered they
were speaking in Spanish. Ben wouldn’t know they were talking about
him even if he was in the room. «I love him, Nana.»

«So will you build a home
with him?»

Tim shook his head. «He
already has a house, and so do I.»

«Those are places, not
homes. A home is what you make together.» Nana picked some lint off
the recliner’s arm. «Two houses! How will that be a
home?»

«No idea,» Tim admitted. «I
think he’s attached to his house, and I don’t want to leave
mine.»

Nana nodded as if this made
sense. «Did you know I never wanted to live in this city? I grew up
in a small village, and that’s all I knew. That’s all I wanted to
know. Your grandfather was from Guadalajara, and he didn’t want to
leave there, either.»

«Then how did you
meet?»

«He did business with my
father, working for a bank that wanted to check on their
investment. So when he came to see that everything in the company
was going well, he would always be invited for dinner. That’s how
we met and kept meeting. When he said he wanted to marry me, I was
happy, until I learned he wanted us to live in
Guadalajara.»

«So what did you
do?»

«I told him that if I had
to leave my home, he also had to leave his. I told him to find a
new job somewhere else. Then I would marry him and move
there.»

Tim laughed. «And that’s
how you ended up here?»

«That’s right.»

«Crazy old
woman.»

Nana smiled proudly. «You
think about it. Sometimes you can only make a home in a new place.
Move here to Mexico City. Be close to your grandma.»

Now he saw what she was
trying to say. Tim agreed with Ben. Too much connected them both to
Austin now. They couldn’t leave it behind. But there might be some
wisdom in her words anyway. «We can’t move here, but I’ll try to
visit more often. Okay?»

Nana nodded as if
satisfied. «Next time you come with me to my new church. The
priest, he’s younger than me, but he says that love isn’t a sin.
You love a woman, you love a man, you love a tomato. God is happy,
because he created love.»

Tim stared at her. «Do you
agree?»

Nana shook her head. «No
one should love a tomato. But the rest, yes.»

«Then maybe you can talk to
Mom about that.»

Nana sat upright. «Is that
why you don’t spend time together?»

Tim shrugged, turning his
attention back to the dictionary. He didn’t want to send Nana after
his parents like an attack dog, but hopefully she would broach the
subject with them. Maybe it would help. And if not, Tim would no
longer worry about the consequences. Nana was right. He needed to
have his own home, his own family. The only question was
how.

* * * * *

“
Ready to fly home
tomorrow?” Tim said, not hiding the concern in his
voice.

Ben looked over at him.
“Afraid I’ll come to my senses the second we land in Austin?” He
winked. “Stop worrying. Against all logic and reason, I’ve been
hopelessly in love with you since I was sixteen. If I haven’t
snapped out of it by now, then there’s no hope for me.”

Tim grinned. “Glad to hear
it.”

“
Besides,” Ben said. “The
past has to catch up with us eventually. When it does, we’ll face
it together.”

The past was a funny thing.
He and Ben stood on the apex of a pyramid, a green valley
surrounding them—the Basin of Mexico. On the horizon, rolling hills
and mountains turned blue as they faded into the distant sky. Here
they were, on the Pyramid of the Sun, part of an ancient city built
by a civilization that had risen and fallen centuries before even
the Aztec Empire. The Teotihuacan people had never thought their
time would come to an end, that centuries later, tourists would
wander their city with cell phones and cameras extended to capture
it all on video. Or that two gay guys would stand on the top of
their tallest pyramid and contemplate their future
together.