Guns n' Boys Book 1 Part 1 (16 page)

Domenico rose on his
elbow and pushed back his hair to look into the moonlit face in front of him.
“Are you cold?”

Seth had that beaten
puppy look to him as he stared back. It would have been cute if it wasn’t for
the fact that there was no room for this kind of shit on the face of a future
Don. “I’m fine. It’s not enough space on that tiny bed anyway,” he muttered,
but his trembling fingers gave away he was lying. Dom just couldn’t pinpoint
why.

“Don’t be ridiculous,”
he muttered and shifted back to make more space for Seth’s larger frame.

“What do you care?”
Seth’s whisper was barely audible, as if he didn’t want an answer. Instead of
coming back to bed, he lay on the floor. Stubborn goat.

Domenico pinched the
bridge of his nose, and moved his fingers over his eyelids, massaging his
eyeballs through the fold of skin. He already knew Seth wasn’t responding well
to persuasion, so instead of dragging his ass back into bed, Dom pushed back
the comforter and sat down next to the log-like body on the floor.

Seth was curled up in
his sweats, with some clothes for a pillow. He had one of his hands holding the
other and breathed too deeply to ever fall asleep.

“Hey.” Domenico moved
closer and put his hand on the top of Seth’s head, feeling the heat getting to him
through the spiky hair. “It’s all right, I won’t buy Indian again, Jeez.”

Seth didn’t even slap
Dom’s hand away, curling up into a tighter ball. “I can still smell it,” Seth
spat with so much loathing as if one of his family members had choked to death
on curry.

Dom felt a shiver go
through Seth’s body and scratched his head.
“I
don’t get it, did an Indian hottie give you the cold shoulder, or something?”

Seth groaned, hiding
his face in his hands. “The Triad fuckers fed it to me every day when I was rotting
in their basement with a missing finger.”

Domenico frowned. The
information was so out of place in this situation that he wasn’t sure what to
do with it. Weren’t they over the finger thing? It was healing nicely. “What?
But they’re Chinese...”

Seth looked back at
him, wide-eyed. “That’s all you have to say? Seriously? Racist and insensitive
at the same time. I’m sharing here! What the fuck? I don’t know. They must have
liked it. Or it was the closest takeout.”

“Or the cheapest.
Suppose it could be from the supermarket,” fantasized Domenico. He would have
just bought some expiring ready meals. Or sandwiches even. Anyway, he wasn’t
sure what the fuss was about. It wasn’t like Seth got ill from those things. Or
did he?

“What the fuck are you
on about? I don’t care where they bought it.” Seth moved away from him on the
floor and rubbed his face. “Every time I smell it I remember how the
motherfucker was sawing through the bone. Why are you even asking? You don’t
care. It doesn’t matter.”

Domenico stared at
him, wondering what he could offer to lift Seth’s spirits. He didn’t want a
scared grump at his side. “What did he use to remove it?”

Seth unclenched his
hand and looked at it in the deep darkness behind the bed. “A knife.”

“Well, at least it
wasn’t a saw. It would have torn the flesh.” Domenico slowly rolled to the
floor and reached out to touch Seth.

“Didn’t you get enough
of me today?” he asked, but held out the hand with the missing finger in a move
worthy of a skittish fawn, all trembles and hitched breaths.

Domenico snorted and
brushed the tips of his fingers over the warm palm. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll
lose interest?”

Seth gave him a blank,
half-lidded stare and for once, Dom couldn’t read what hid behind it. “I don’t
want the kind of interest you gave me today.”

Domenico squeezed the
hand and pulled Seth over to him. When the scent of male skin hit his nostrils,
it was like being served the sweetest of desserts but Domenico wouldn’t eat
now. “If you don’t want this kind of treatment, be good and behave.”

Seth sniffed like a
scolded puppy and didn’t pull away, slowly settling into an embrace, with his
arms around Dom’s waist and his scruffy, unshaven face scratching Dom’s neck.
It was nice to provide comfort, and the way Seth’s fingers dug into Dom’s flesh
told him his presence was appreciated. He leaned in and brushed his nose over
the shell of Seth’s ear. “The Chinese won’t touch you again. I’ll make sure of
that.”

He didn’t get an
answer, but the grip tightened, and it felt as if Seth wanted to climb under
Dom’s skin to be safe. Domenico pulled the comforter down to the floor and
their legs entwined. Soon Seth’s breath steadied and Domenico could fall asleep
as well.

Chapter 7

Seth stirred the sauce
in the only pan they had. Maybe it wasn’t amazing, but at least it was proper
food, and enough of it to last him for two days. He’d stolen some money out of
Dom’s wallet, when Dom had been shaving, and had gone to the nearest store for
some ingredients. He was
not
eating fucking tikka masala again. He’d
even met their downstairs neighbor on the way, and when she saw his groceries,
they managed to communicate with their hands. She led him to a tiny garden in
the backyard and gave him some fresh basil and thyme. How great was that? He
dipped his finger in the sauce and checked the taste.
Perfect.

Since the sauce was
simmering and needed no more attention, Seth rushed over to the window where
Dom had left him a spreadsheet of things to check for when watching the girl.
Vera Salieri. He was supposed to record her activities, guests, unusual
behaviors, and anything compromising he could spot, along with the times. Piece
of cake. He could even read a book in the meanwhile and managed to cook dinner.
He was a freaking
machine
.

And on top of that, Dom
had to go somewhere first thing in the morning so he didn’t bother Seth, and
the day had been peaceful. Seth liked going to the gym and doing all sorts of
sports, but he had to admit that the series of push-ups he’d witnessed Dom do
in the morning was pretty impressive. It was as if the guy didn’t get tired.
Maybe he was on drugs?

Salieri was still on her
tiny balcony, spread out in a beach chair and listening to music on her iPhone.
Seth wanted,
needed,
to know exactly what she did, so he could know how
big her involvement was. Maybe she was just stupid and got herself into a
shitty situation, or someone manipulated her. Oh well, she wasn’t doing
anything, so he could go back to his book. He had to admit that he didn’t
expect Dom to choose well, but the guy must have actually paid attention,
because not only did he get Seth a vampire book, it had gay characters as well.
With the action of the story based in Alaska, it was perfect escapism.

Before he even opened it
though, his cell phone rattled on the counter. He groaned, as there was only
one person who could be calling him.

“What?” he answered
without much enthusiasm.

“What do you want for
dinner? A kebab?” asked Domenico through the background noise.

Seth raised his
eyebrows, admittedly surprised. Domenico actually asked this time. “Nah, I’m
fine, I’ve got something.”

The silence in the
receiver dawned on him like a bludgeon, twisting his stomach, but he didn’t
expect Domenico’s tone to become so sharp and calm at the same time. He found
it hard to believe any human being could sound like that.

“I fucking told you to
stay home. Are you stupid?”

“I only went to the
corner store. And I wore a hoodie, it’s fine.” He looked toward Vera, who got
up and went into her house.

“You’re a fucking joke,”
said Domenico just before he hung up on Seth.

Seth pouted and looked
at his phone. “Fuck you, too,” he muttered and got up to stir the sauce. Was he
supposed to just take all the abuse thrown at him and turn the other cheek?
Domenico damn well knew Seth couldn’t go to his father with a complaint. What
was he supposed to do? Say that Dom fucked him? That wouldn’t go down well for
either of them. And if he tried to lie and say Dom did something else to him,
there was always Peter whom Dom could blackmail him with. Seth could bet Dom
had photos or some shit like that.

He calmed down a bit
working on his perfect sauce, but there was still that unpleasant tension in
his muscles, the anticipation of Dom coming back. The food could have been even
better with fresh pasta, but he didn’t have the necessary equipment to treat
himself to that. At least everything else was fresh, though he could have done
with organic vegetables.

He was about to start
his meal when the unmistakable sound of the lock opening turned his attention
back to the door. Domenico wasn’t one for pleasantries.

“What the fuck were you
thinking going out on your own?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

Seth moaned. He didn’t
want to argue again. His life was miserable enough already. “Only to the corner
store. I mean, come on, Dom!”

“I don’t care. You were
supposed to sit on your ass, out of harm’s way. Can’t you even do that right?”
Dom threw his coat on the bed and walked up to Seth, stopping above him so
close it bristled Seth’s body hair. Seth sucked in his lips. Would Dom hit him?

“I guess I’m not so good
at following orders.” Seth rolled some spaghetti onto the fork, not daring to
look up.

“What is that?” Was
there a subtle change in Domenico’s voice?

Seth looked up at him
with a frown. “What does it look like? Pasta. Duh.”

“Smells homemade.”
Domenico dropped to the other chair with a slight frown.

Seth shook his head and
pointed to the used pan in what pretended to be a kitchen. “Obviously. I made
it.”

“From scratch?”
Domenico’s eyes alternated between Seth’s face and the steaming bowl.

“Well, yeah… Not the
pasta though. It was the best I could do with just a pan. I got some herbs from
the neighbor.” He wasn’t going to say it at first, ready for another scolding,
but he was proud of it, so he couldn’t help but boast about his frugality. He
was surprised all it got him was a stunned nod.

“I thought it was your
girlfriend cooking back in New York.”

“My
boy
friend can
cook chicken nuggets in the fryer.” Seth smiled at the memory. Peter was a
useless cook, but at least he never complained about cleaning the dishes after
Seth had made dinner.

“That is quite
impressive,” said Domenico, stretching his hand toward Seth. He was ogling the
pasta as if it hypnotized him.

What the hell?
Did he just get a compliment from Dom? Other than about
his ass. “Um… thanks. I suppose. There’s only so much I can do with one pan, a
fork, and a knife.”

Domenico wiggled the
fingers of the outstretched hand.

Seth’s eyes went wider.
Did the bastard now want to steal his food as well? After yelling at Seth that
he made it in the first place? “You have a kebab.” Seth pointed to the
Styrofoam box Dom placed on the table.

“I prefer homemade
pasta.”

“Of course you do. But
you’re not getting any.” Finally, an upper hand.

“Give me the fork. There
is more than enough for two.”

“‘Cause it’s for
tomorrow. It’s mine. I made it. And there’s only one fork anyway.” Seth took a
forkful of pasta in his mouth with a self-satisfied groan. He froze with the
food in his mouth when Dom dipped his hand straight into the center of his
bowl, dragging out several strands of spaghetti, leaking with sauce. Horrified,
he watched Dom open his mouth like the shark from ‘Jaws’ and drop in his
precious, homemade food.

Seth was so stunned, he
stopped chewing. A part of him wanted to say “pig”, but a part of him watched
Dom eat the delicious red sauce. He even licked his fingers clean, eyes closed,
and Seth half expected him to open a few buttons of his shirt.

“That is...” Domenico
started chewing as he looked back at Seth with a half frown. “Fantastic. You
really made this yourself?”

Seth couldn’t help the
smile on his lips as he swallowed. There was a thrill to watching Dom eat in
such an animalistic way. Seth wanted to feed him, just to see it again, to see
that it was his doing that Dom couldn’t control himself. Maybe it would help
him feel like he was regaining some control over his life. “Yeah. I added some
smoked bacon because they didn't have
pancetta
.” He sighed and pushed
the plate of pasta in between them.

“I would honestly
believe my mother made that.” Domenico was looking at him, his shoulders
relaxed as he reached for the pasta again, a small smile already forming on his
face. It struck Seth that never before had it seemed as genuine.

Seth wanted to scold him
and say that he didn’t want to share, but the relaxed atmosphere was too good
to give up on. For once, he didn’t have to tip-toe around Dom. Seth gently
tapped the top of Dom’s hand with the fork, which just yesterday he’d attempted
to use as a deadly weapon. “Don’t be a pig, use the fork.” He passed the
utensil to him.

“Oh, no.” Domenico
grinned at him and shuffled closer with his chair. “You made the food, now feed
us both.”

Seth suddenly felt shy
as if he were on a first date with a boyfriend-to-be, not stuck in a dirty
attic with the man who fucked him raw just the day before. He didn’t know what
to say so he just smiled and inched closer as well. He dipped the fork in the
pasta and rolled it until it turned into a neat ball. Their shoulders and
thighs touched, and Seth wasn’t sure how to feel about the intimate atmosphere.
He put a hand under the fork as he moved it to Dom’s lips.

He shivered when
Domenico leaned in, almost as if he were trying to get into Seth’s embrace, and
took the pasta into his mouth with a groan of such pleasure Seth was getting
red faced himself.

“You are an excellent
cook. What the hell were you doing in communication studies?”

“I… I suppose Father
wouldn’t be happy to see his son becoming a professional cook.” Seth considered
tasting his creation himself, but in the end, he fed Dom again. The look on
that handsome face was worth it. And, oh God, Domenico actually leaned on
Seth’s shoulder.

“Men are the best chefs.
You have great potential.”

“Well, we both know I
won’t be doing
that
. I’ll be seeing a different kind of red sauce
instead.” Seth hesitated but stroked the silk of Dom’s hair and fed him another
forkful.

“It’s a shit
perspective, isn’t it?” Domenico put his hand across Seth’s back and held him
closer as he ate. A strand of spaghetti left a red splash on his chin, making
him look like a hungry baby.

Seth really didn’t want
to be
that guy
. The guy who cleans their partner’s face with a napkin,
but he couldn’t bear to look at it. They only had a kitchen towel at hand, so
he used its corner to rub the sauce off Dom’s chin. “Things change.”

“Like what you had with
that... wifey of yours?” asked Domenico without a trace of mockery.

“Yeah. Like that. I knew
what I had with him.” The 'had' slipped out on its own but was a truthful
indicator of the situation. Seth would never get back together with Peter.

Domenico nodded and took
the fork out of Seth’s hand, swirling the pasta around it. “You should tell him
it’s over. That’s only fair.”

Seth frowned and slouched
in his seat. “I know. I haven’t been single in a long time.”

The ball of delicious
spaghetti Dom held up to his mouth wasn’t enough of a comfort. “I know, but at
least it’s you leaving him. No drama, or sleepless nights for you.”

Seth shook his head but ate
the pasta. “It’s not easy to hurt someone,” he muttered with his mouth full,
but then looked to Dom. “Not that you would know.”

Domenico blinked, and
his eyes lost the playful glimmer. “You’re one to talk. He was so much smaller,
weaker than you, but that didn’t stop you from hurting him. Do you think you’re
doing him a favor now?”

Seth lost his appetite.
He hadn’t asked for problems with Peter. Stuff just happened, tensions were
high and fists flew. He never said they were the perfect couple. “Well, you’re
not perfect either so get off my back. I’ll call him.”

“All right. I like a man
with balls.” Domenico ate more pasta, unaffected by the exchange. “And you
certainly need a man with balls, too.”

“You have no idea what I
need.” Seth leaned back in his chair. He didn’t want to break up with Peter
over the phone.

“You do. You know you
do. If you get together with another spineless dolly, it’s gonna fall apart as
well,” said Domenico, poking him in the chest.

“So what? I’m supposed
to put up with you instead?” Seth frowned at him. Dom could possibly be a good
fuck once he got his attitude in check, but definitely not a good partner. “If
I meet a guy I want to be with, I’ll know.”

Domenico pulled Seth
closer with one arm and lifted the bowl of pasta. “You don’t know what you
want. The fact that you aren’t doing
this
professionally means just
that.”

“And you always know
what you want? Give me a break.” Seth sighed and looked down at the spaghetti.

“No one knows it all the
time," said Domenico. His thumb was making lazy circles on Seth’s nape.

“I sure as hell don’t
know what you want from me. One moment you’re bitching at me and the next
you’re all tender like a fucking chicken breast.”

Domenico scowled.
“Really? Have you just compared me to something as common as a chicken breast?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re
so
special. Proud, handsome, keeping everything under control. A bit like a
cock
,
right?” Seth raised his eyebrows with a smirk.