Read Fin & Matt Online

Authors: Charlie Winters

Fin & Matt (9 page)

“I’ve been thinking about what you said before.  About going to Pittsburgh to see my family.  I think I want to go, you know?  Introduce them to my boyfriend.  Next Friday’s an off-week, so we don’t have a game.  We could leave after school.  Catch a late flight?”

“Are you serious?”  The panic was replaced with a long breath of relief.

“Yeah.  Are you okay?  What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Yeah.  I thought – I don’t know – I thought you might break up with me,” I blurted.

“Fin,” he whispered, cupping his hands to my face, “I want to spend my life with you.  That’s why I’m doing this at all.  They may not be okay with my decisions, but I want them to see you – to know you – so that they know that my life stands for something.  That I’m not the stereotype they’ve built in their heads.  That you are an intelligent man; an educator, a musician, a free thinker.  That our life is normal and wonderful.  That
you
are wonderful.”

“I am?”  I rolled my eyes.  “They’re gonna hate me anyway.  I don’t even know how to change a tire, let alone put pipes in the ground or whatever.”

Matt kissed me with a laugh.  “So, will you come?”

I moved close and wrapped my arms around his lower back.  “Yes.”

“Yeah?”  Comfort flooded his words.  “Thank fuck.”

“Hungry?” I asked.

He broke our embrace and moved toward the bedroom, carefully stripping his clothing off, one piece at a time.  “I am, but I need a shower first.  Give me a few?”

I turned to my refrigerator and stared at its near empty shelves.  I did have the ingredients for breakfast burritos, my absolute favorite food.  If one man could live on eggs, cheese, tortillas and bacon (or sausage – I wasn’t picky), it was me.  As I pulled the tortillas from the oven, Matt wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his damp hair against my back.

“You’re going to spoil me.  Food, clean sheets…”  Matt’s hands wandered down, gripping my swollen shaft.  “Sex.”

“Food first,” I responded, reaching into the cabinet to retrieve two plates.  “I cooked.  Let’s at least eat it before we end up in bed.”

Matt kissed my shoulder before sitting down in front of the island.  He took a mouthful of burrito and gave me a quick thumbs-up.  Swallowing, he wiped his mouth and took a quick sip of water.  “I want to talk to you about that too.”  He pointed into the bedroom.

“Oh, God,” I mumbled.

“Before you start freaking out, there’s nothing wrong.  I just wanted to talk about how you felt about everything.  I know it’s been fast, but I hoped you didn’t think that I pushed you.  I just wanted you so much and I know I can be a bit much when I see something I want.  I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything or anyone in my life.”

“Me too… I mean, I wanted you just as much.”

“You don’t regret moving so fast?”  Matt took another bite of burrito and waited for my answer.

“I don’t have any regrets other than my desire to be more experienced, I guess.  I feel a little silly in there sometimes, fumbling around or whatever.”

He smiled softly.  “Fin, last night in bed, you squeezed me twice and I came in your hand like a fucking teenager.  I react like that to you because I love you.”

I placed my burrito onto the plate.  “You want to know how I feel about everything.  Okay.  I’ve always been fortunate, you know?  I had parents that cared about me, a good education, a great house.  But the one thing I’d always wanted that I never thought was possible to get was physical love.  Emily could have it; all of the straight kids from school could have it.”  I shrugged.  “I couldn’t.”

“Fin—”

“Then I went to college.  I thought that everyone got laid in college, you know.  I figured that boys like me would just be coming out of the woodwork… but they weren’t.  It was a conservative school and I was too shy to put myself out there.  Finally, when I did – well, you know what happened.  The only thing I wanted was to feel someone else’s lips on mine.  To really kiss someone, you know?  To have them hold me in their arms.  The actual sex hardly even mattered.  I mean, yeah, I watched porn, but you know how that is.  It’s not exactly real… and even if it turned me on a little, it scared me more.”

“Why?”

“Because there was so much to it.  It wasn’t just kissing and lying in bed.  It was sucking cock and licking – fuck – everywhere… and fucking and being fucked.  I had no experience, Matt.  With
any
of it.  When I sucked you the first time, I nearly choked from fear.  What was it gonna taste like?  What if I threw up?  What if you hated it?  And when you fucked me,” I whispered, “I nearly thought I would tear.  I
actually
thought my body would rip in half.”

“So, why didn’t you stop me?  Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because… I’d never been more turned on in my life.  By all of it.  Every second I’ve spent in that bed with you – or on that couch, or in that shower – it doesn’t get any better than that, Matt.  So I guess what I’m trying to say is that you didn’t push me… not once.  If I actually opened up about what I wanted from time to time, I’d be down on my knees right now, sucking your cock until you came down my throat.”

Matt pushed his chair back and stood.  “What are you waiting for?”

 

♂♂

 

“Okay, so explain this again?”

I stared at the flat screen, focusing on Matt’s words as he attempted to interpret the rules of the nonsensical game playing before me.

“So, this is the offense, right?  Eleven players.  The field is a hundred yards long, okay?  Well, the goal of the offense is to take the ball down the field to make it into the end zone.  Every time the offense gets the ball, they have four chances to gain ten yards.  If they’re successful, it’s called a first down.  If they get a first down, they get four more chances.  Each of those chances is a down – first down, second down, etcetera.  If they don’t, they lose possession of the ball.  Then the other team gets their chance.  Does that make sense?”

“Ten yards?  That’s it?”

“Yeah, but it’s harder than you’d think.  There can be a false start… that’s where one of the offensive players moves before the snap.  If that happens, you automatically lose five yards.  See that guy there?  He’s the center.  After the snap – see that? – if the quarterback hands the ball off, that’s called a run.  If he waits to pass but doesn’t find an opening, he takes risk of being sacked.  Or even if he does find an opening and throws, there’s chance of an interception.  That’s where the other team catches the ball instead, again taking possession.”

“My head hurts.”  I rubbed my temples for effect.

“Fuck!” Matt yelled.

“What happened?”

“Fucking fumble.  It was a screen pass to the tight end.  See that guy right there in the slot?  The guy standing out there by himself?  Watch what he does.  Now, see when he catches the ball and turns to run?  He’s holding it like a loaf of bread.  The linebacker knocked it right out of his hand.  You’re supposed to tuck that ball in.”

Matt watched with passion, sitting up in short bursts, expletives falling from his lips with ease.

“You want anything?” I asked.

He shook his head as another “motherfucker!” flew from his throat.

“I may lie down for a little bit.  Do you care?”

He quickly clicked the television off and turned to me.  “I’m sorry.  I get sort of sucked in on Sundays, you know?”

“It’s fine.”  I reached over and ran my fingers through his thick hair.  “Don’t turn it off for me.”

“Come here,” he responded, patting his lap.

I moved close – not onto his lap – but managed to sit near enough so that our thighs were touching.

“Closer,” he whispered.

I popped off of the couch and peeled off my sweatshirt.  “I need a shower.  You need to go home.  You ran out of clothes last night.  I can wash ‘em, but then you’d just be wearing the same thing from Friday’s game to work tomorrow.”

Matt followed close behind me, carefully wrapping me up into his arms.  “I don’t want to leave.”

I craned my neck as he peppered languid kisses down its length.  “I don’t want you to go.”

He turned me to face him, his fingers trailing down my bare chest.  “What if…?  Forget it.”

“What if
what
?”  I desperately held his gaze, even grasping his chin when he dared look away.  “What if what?”

“Fuck,” he whispered.  “Here’s the deal.  We don’t ever want to leave each other, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve stayed here almost every night, living out of a bag.  But if I permanently moved in here—”

“You want to move
in
here?”  I jumped in place, an effeminate squeal spewing from my lips.

“Fin, if I moved in here, I would feel like a failure.  If I did that, everyone would think you were my sugar daddy.”

“Impossible.  You’re older than dirt,” I teased.

He let out a low laugh.  “Honestly, I would rather move you in with me.  Then at least everyone would know that it was because we loved each other.”

“Well, that’s not happening,” I protested.  “The last time we were there, I swear something in your sink moved.”

“Exactly.  But if I move in here… shit, Fin.  Your mom and dad pay for this place, don’t they?  I can’t be a charity case.  I also don’t want to live without you for one more day.”

“It’s a conundrum.”  I smiled, moving my hand to the front of his lazy-day sweatpants.  “How many months left on your lease?”

“Two,” he whispered, a groan escaping his lips.

“How much?”

“How much what?”

“To pay out?” I asked.  “How much do you pay a month?”

He lowered his head before mumbling, “Five seventy-five.”

“Okay.  And how much do you pay Carl?”

“Fin…”

“And how much do you pay Carl, Matt?”

He looked up at me.  “Nine-fifty a month.”

“Jesus Christ.  I hope Becky was worth it.”  I regretted the words less than one second after I said them.

“Leave Becky out of this.  She didn’t deserve anything I put her through.”  He walked away from me, turning to gather his clothes and shove them in his duffle.  “I… I’ve gotta go,” he mumbled.

“Stop.”

“I don’t want your fucking money!” he shouted.  “Don’t you get that?  I didn’t want to tell you how much.  You
want
me?  I mean, do you really want me, Fin?  Because that’s the fucking price tag I come with.  That debt doesn’t go away and I’m not taking one dime from your account.  I’m the man who can’t afford fancy dinners and luxurious vacations.  I can’t take you out and treat you like you deserve to be treated… hell, like you
expect
to be treated.  If you wait five years, maybe I can be that man.  But now,” he responded, frantically shoving his feet into his shoes, “I’m just the guy that took that family for a ride.  I’m the guy that married their daughter just to get my school paid for.  I’m
that
guy, Fin.”

I blocked the doorway, watching my lover’s face crumble to pieces.  He quickly pushed the tears from his cheeks with his rough hands.

“Sit down, Matt.”  I pointed to the one bedroom chair.

“Move, please,” he choked out.

“Sit down, Matt.  Now.”

He sat slowly, his hands covering his eyes.  “What?”

“Are you that man
now
, Matt?  You made that decision when you were seventeen years old.  Are you the same man now?”

“What difference does it fucking make?”  Another tear slid down his face as I knelt in front of his weakened body.

“Answer me.”  My voice softened as my thumb traced his cheek.  “Are you that man now?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.  So, here’s what we’re going to do.”

Chapter Eight

 

D
espite Matt’s protests, I booked (and paid for) our flight to Pittsburgh.  We sat in first class, slyly holding hands during the takeoff.  The older gentleman seated next to me glimpsed at our clasped fingers but said nothing, choosing to pretend to read instead.

“Are you nervous?” I asked.

“No.”  Matt stared out the small window, his face void of emotion.

“So, you know what Eden told me this week?  She said that Pearson told her that I was a fairy.  He actually used that word.  Fairy.” 

“I should beat that guy’s ass,” Matt mumbled.

“So, you
do
speak.  I’ve been talking at you for the past three hours, babe.”

Matt glanced over at the man next to me.  If he’d heard my term of endearment, he wasn’t showing it, eyes buried in some thriller.  As I snuggled into Matt’s shoulder; he softened, lifting his hand to rub across my cheek.

“I know.  I’m sorry, honey.”  When he leaned in to press his lips to mine, the man cleared his throat, proving that he was paying attention more than he had let on.  “Did we get a car?  I forgot to rent a car.”

“Taken care of.  My dad.  Actually, he arranged all of it.  He does business here and knows half of the city.  We’re staying at the Hotel Monaco.  They arranged transportation for us.  They’ll pick us up from the airport and we can take a courtesy car when we go to your parents’ house tomorrow.”

He nodded and went back to the window.  “I’ll have to thank him.”

“I remember the first time I flew on a plane.  My mom was afraid that I would be scared, so she sang to me the entire time.  Luckily, for the other passengers, she has a beautiful voice.  Anyway, she held me and sang, making up these little songs with my name in them, you know?  My dad bounced me in his lap… Jesus, the other passengers must have thought I was a spoiled little brat.  They’ve always been like that; lovesick over me.  And completely nuts.  She told me, ‘Finny, in one hour, we’re gonna see the longest bridge in the whole country.’”

“I don’t even know what the longest bridge is,” Matt answered, squeezing my hand.

“It’s Lake Pontchartrain Causeway in New Orleans, but we were going to San Francisco.  It’s the second largest
suspension
bridge.  Still, it was pretty fucking great.”

He laughed lightly.  “How old were you?”

“Five, maybe?”  I leaned in and kissed his cheek.  “I saw my first set of breasts.  A woman on the street.”

“Were they everything you thought they would be?” he teased.

“If you mean frightening and saggy, then yes.  I’m fairly certain the woman bearing them was in her late-sixties and possibly homeless.”

He laughed aloud, the first genuine smile I’d seen on that face the whole day.  “I love you,” he whispered.

I leaned in and took his mouth, not caring if the whole world knew he was mine.  “I love you, too.”

 

♂♂

 

“How’d I get so lucky?”  Matt lay with his arms squeezed tightly around me, gripping my shoulders as if I would disappear.

“You okay?” I asked.

“No, but I’m better with you.  We’re going to surprise them, you know?  They don’t know we’re coming… it could be really bad.”

“But it could be good, Matt.”

Matt pushed me onto my back and frantically tugged at my pajama bottoms.  “I need you,” he mumbled, pressing kisses onto my chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whispered, tugging at his shoulders.  “Stop, okay?  Look at me.”  When he glanced up, absolute fear froze on his face.  “I’m not going anywhere, Matt.  Let’s just rest tonight.  Tomorrow, we can go to a nice dinner… go out to a club… whatever you want.  Tonight, I just want to be here with you.  Watch shitty cable movies.  Fall asleep in your arms.  Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

He slid back up to the pillow and reclined as I, once again, snuggled into the crook of his arm.  “Sure,” he whispered.  “Sex is overrated anyway.”

“Baby,” I answered softly, “I’ll do anything you want, but not until tomorrow.  Right now, you’re stressed.  I’m not letting you stress-fuck me.”

“Don’t say fuck.  I hate it when you say that.”  He ran his hand over the week-long growth on his face.  It was hard to say no to him; I was a sucker for a beard.

“What do you want to call it?”  I smiled up at him, scratching my nails over his short chest hair.

“We love each other, so—”

“Stop,” I responded with a snort.

“Why do you hate those words so much?”

“Because it just sounds so fucking cheesy.”  I shook my head.  “It’s how my parents would describe it.”

He turned, his blue eyes blazing into mine.  “Would that be so bad?  To have a lifelong love like they do?”

“We can have that without saying ‘making love’ like geriatrics.”

“Okay, Fin.  I won’t say the words, but…”  He pressed a kiss to my neck.  “Know that I will be thinking them when I’m fucking you.”

“You’re such a romantic.”  I melted into his touch, his tongue quickly stripping my ability to make rational decisions.  “Matt… oh God… Matt, stop.  Stop.”

He pulled back with a groan.  “My dick is so hard; I’m literally going to cry.”

I nabbed my book off of the side table and feigned interest, turning the pages a little too quickly.  “There’s a shower in the other room.  If you need to take care of that, I would suggest you do it before you get back into this bed.”

Matt sat up, giving me a quick (fake) glare before trudging out of bed.  “I hate you,” he mumbled.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll snowball you tomorrow night,” I teased.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around with a smile.  “You’re gonna spit my cum into my mouth?”

I sat up quickly, a look of disgust on my face.  “Oh Jesus, is
that
what that is?  I thought—”

Matt nodded, his lips nearly splitting with a wide grin.  “Baby, did you do some research?”

I picked the book back up, burying my flushed face between the pages.  “Just take your shower.”

He laughed and jumped onto the bed.  “No, come on.  What did you think it was?”

“Like… upside down or something… kind of like a sixty-nine, I guess.  Oh, God… just forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it,” he teased.  “Maybe I should snowball you right now!” 

“Oh my God,” I squealed, squirming in his arms.  “Get off of me—”

He softened his grip, lowering his lips to mine in a slow kiss.  “Take a shower with me,” he said quietly.  “I promise no sex.  I just… it’s lonely in there without you.”

“No sex,” I warned.  “I know I’m pretty, but you’ll just have to resist.”

Matt put his hands on my shoulders and rubbed his thumbs across my heated skin.  “You’re fucking beautiful; have I told you that?”

He had.  Every day.

“Yes.  An hour ago.”

He stroked my hair, studying it in his fingers.  “It’s not
here
, Fin.  It’s not your hair or your face… or this incredible body.  My heart fills – I mean, seriously
fills
– when we’re together.  I would die for you.”

I let out a short laugh.  “God, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I’ve never been happier in my whole life, have you?”

I shook my head gently.  “No.”

“Finlay Carrick MacAuliffe?”

Oh shit.  Oh shit.  Oh shit.

“Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

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