Agape Ch. 07

Dmitri lived near Back Bay; he and Dusty walked the few blocks to the subway, then hopped on a train to South Station. There they transferred from the orange line to the red one, which took them to the JFK stop. Dusty lived a mile or so from there, so they walked. Dusty took Dmitri's hand in his, lightly holding it but saying nothing. He enjoyed the comfortable silence that they were already able to share.

After a few minutes, Dmitri tugged his hand free. He ran the fingers nervously through his hair.

"What's wrong?" Dusty asked, worry creasing his brow.

"This is not a gay part of town," Dmitri whispered, ashamed that he cared.

"Honey, do you really think anyone's gonna fuck with the two of us?"

"I do not know..."

"Hey, no worries. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable." He fought back the urge to reach out to the boy in comfort, afraid that he'd only make things worse.

They made the rest of the trek in a less cozy sort of silence, Dusty concerned that he'd accidentally pushed the younger man away from him. Dmitri was embarrassed that he had let what other people might think influence his actions. He hoped that Dusty would be able to forgive his foolishness, his sign of weakness.

*

"Here we go!" Dusty grinned at his companion, then unlocked the front door of the building in which he lived. It was Dmitri's turn to follow Dusty through unfamiliar hallways and up two flights of stairs. This building had no elevator, not even a rickety old one like that the pair had occupied the night before. Right at the top of the second flight of steps stood Dusty's apartment.

"Watch out," he said, "Bear will want to claim you too." There was a mischievous glint in Dusty's eyes. Dmitri recognised it immediately and swallowed.

When Dusty slid back the arm on the deadbolt and opened the door with a flourish, his younger companion got the joke. A small black chihuahua mix stood on the other side of the threshold, wagging its tail excitedly. Dusty knelt down to scratch under the pup's chin.

"Dmitri, meet Bear. She's a sweet little thing, just don't give her any of your scraps unless you want her following you around, making moon eyes at you for all eternity." He looked up at the boy with a smile, then turned his attention back to the small animal.

"Bear, this is Dmitri. Be nice; he's mine, but I've never been a selfish man." He winked conspiratorily at her, patted her head and rose to his feet.

Dusty took Dmitri's hand and led him inside the apartment.

"Welcome to my home. It's nothing fancy, but it's been home for a few years. I'd have a big dog if I could, but they're not normally allowed. I somehow managed to convince the landlady that a cat-sized dog couldn't do any more damage to the apartment than an actual cat. She told me that if I could find a small, litter box trained pooch, it could come live with me. So I did. The old lady giggled with delight when I showed her that Bear really does use the box."

Dmitri giggled then, trying to picture any dog using a litter box for anything other than a source of illicit treats. And Dusty squeezed the hand that had remained in his own, knowing that his offense out on the street had been a minor one.

"So... Ready for that nap?"

Dmitri smiled his response and let Dusty lead him to the bedroom.

"I apologise for the mess," he said sheepishly, "I don't have people over here much. Stereotypical bachelor pad when I'm not expecting company."

"It has character. Your character." Dmitri kissed his lover, then tumbled them both onto the bed. "I like it," he said, wrestling with Dusty's shirt.

Dmitri undressed Dusty much as he had the evening before, except that this time he showed just a smidge more patience than he had previously. Dusty returned the favour, peeling the fabric from the boy's flesh. Since no one had been home the night before except Bear, the bedroom was chilly. Dusty gathered Dmitri close to him, strong arms wrapped tight around his magnificently sculpted body, and they slept beneath a quilt that had been made by Dusty's mom years before.

*

Dusty woke to the alarm he'd set for 3:00; he'd had little more than an hour's rest, but he felt remarkably refreshed. When Dmitri stirred, he was told to go back to sleep. It was an order rather than a suggestion, and the boy had no reason to argue. He rolled back over and drifted once more into the arms of Morpheus, but not before requesting a kiss from Dusty.

The older man was more than happy to comply; he leaned down to brush his lips across his sweet companion's brow, then his lips, and finally his eyelids. Dmitri sighed happily and was snoring lightly by the time Dusty reached the bedroom door, having stopped to pull on a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

Dusty rocked out to a Dead Boys CD while he made green chile chicken enchiladas; he'd already found out, being a good host, that Dmitri was a vegetarian. So he saved some of the gravy before adding the meat and made a small pan that the boy would be able to eat. He hoped it would be filling enough without the chicken; luckily, he had also planned on having salads. He wasn't the most experienced with vegan cuisine, so he was glad that Dmitri ate dairy.

With the Mexican equivalent of lasagna in the oven and about an hour and a half until his remaining guests would arrive, Dusty cranked up the volume on his stereo and made the place look as tidy as possible with his poorly budgeted time. It may have been badly budgeted, but he considered the prior night and that very morning to have been one of the best bouts of fucking off he'd ever had.

At about 4:00, with the apartment about as clean as he would get it before his guests arrived, he checked on the enchiladas and then woke his lover by sliding under the covers and nibbling at the boy's neck.

When Dmitri moaned and turned to look at him, Dusty motioned to a table at the side of the bed. Upon it sat a large, steaming mug.

"Coffee."

"Bless you," Dmitri replied, rolling his stiff shoulder muscles as he brought himself upright.

"I'm going to run out for some Negra Modelo and something special for dessert. Need anything?"

"No, thank you." In fact, aside from the food that was soon to come, Dmitri wanted for nothing just then.

*

Dusty returned from his mission about twenty minutes later, cursing himself for not thinking to turn the oven down before he'd left. He found Dmitri in the kitchen; he'd turned the oven off a few minutes after Dusty left. The casseroles were being kept warm inside.

"Mind reader," Dusty rasped.

"You are kidding. Hard not to peek at the food when it smelled so good. I saw it was done, so I turned it off." He took one of the bags from Dusty's arms and was warned not to peek this time; dessert was a surprise in his honour.

Dmitri grinned; who doesn't love a surprise?

There was a knock at the door then. Angela had keys but only used them when she popped by to drop something off or check on Bear when her father wouldn't be home for more than a day's time.

"Ready?" Dusty asked, his arm around Dmitri.

"No," the boy laughed.

"You'll be fine," Dusty assured him, kissing the younger man's cheek.

Dusty opened the apartment door. There stood his beautiful little girl and a heavily tattooed young man who wore several rings through his lower lip. He liked the new guy already; Dusty had been an adolescent during punk's earliest and wildest years, so he appreciated youngsters who had a bit of a bold streak themselves, so long as they weren't assholes. And there was no way his kid would let herself be swept off her feet by a jerk, so this one had to be all right.

"Dad!" She beamed at her father, waited for him to embrace her in the inevitable bear hug, and then turned her attention to the fellow at her side. "This is Mike, the new boyfriend I mentioned."

Father and beau shook hands.

"Angela, this is Dmitri, the new boyfriend I haven't had a chance to tell you about."

Her jaw dropped before she had an opportunity to compose herself. "Dad! I didn't think you'd ever have another relationship!" Angela hugged Dmitri, which caught him off-guard. He returned the embrace weakly, looking to her father for help. The boy wasn't used to being greeted so warmly by strangers unless they were drunk men trying to get in his pants. Dusty laughed, clapped both Mike and Dmitri on the back, and nodded toward the big kitchen table.

"Shall we?"

While his guests sat and made small talk that was partially polite and also somewhat inspired by genuine curiosity, he pulled four bottles of the dark Mexican beer from the freezer.

"The store only had them warm," he explained, "But they're cold enough now. Beer, Mike?" He knew without asking that Angela would like one and Dmitri would need one.

"Please, sir," Mike replied. Yep, Dusty liked the kid already.

They ate while a Misfits album played in the background. Dusty caught a surprised look on Mike's face when the Tom Waits CD had ended and the changer skipped ahead to the new one.

"Some of us older guys aren't so bad," he chuckled. "I won't even go into how things were back in the day unless you want me to." He laughed again and rose. Dmitri helped him clear the dishes and bring out a fresh round of beer. Then Dusty's eyes lit up.

"Hey, have either of you ever had ouzo?" Both Angela and Mike shook their heads, no.

"Well, then, you are in for a treat!" He repeated Dmitri's words cheerily and pulled scotch glasses from a cupboard. His lover went to the bedroom, where he'd left his bag, and returned with the bottle of liquor he'd brought to share.

"This is straight from Greece," Dusty explained. "Dmitri's grandfather makes it. I hope you both like liquorice."

The ouzo was a hit. Dmitri had become shy over the course of dinner, so Dusty was eager to help the boy emerge from his shell. When the bottle was gone, Dusty produced another. Dmitri looked confused.

"I got another bottle at the store." Dusty shrugged.

"Silly man, I have cases at home."

"I didn't want to impose."

Dmitri rolled his eyes dramatically, as though Dusty could not even be capable of something so ridiculous as imposing on him in any way. He was a bit drunk, and he was perfectly comfortable among the others by then. He turned and stuck his tongue out at Dusty to emphasise the point, just in case his lover had missed the show he had made of making the theatrical face. Dusty darted forward to grab Dmitri's tongue between his own teeth, and they kissed for a few delicious moments.

"Oh!" Dmitri exclaimed, sitting back and letting his eyes drift to the place where Angela sat on Mike's lap.

"What?" Angela giggled, her fingers playing across her man's scalp.

"Oh." Smiling sheepishly, Dmitri finally realised that he really was safe with Dusty.

"Bit slow on the uptake sometimes," Dusty teased, "But he's got other qualities which more than make up for that fact."

Father and daughter, along with their new friends and lovers, drank with gusto and laughed much that late night. Dmitri was absolutely tickled when Dusty produced their belated dessert, a small but heavy package of baklava that practically dripped with honey. After Dmitri finished his, Dusty licked the boy's fingers clean and then excused them both from the other couple's company, explaining that they hadn't slept much and, although they wouldn't be getting up early for church in the morning, they were both rather exhausted. He told Angela that she and Mike were more than welcome to the futon in the living room; she knew where the spare bedding was kept. She also knew that her dad would prefer their crashing there to spending too much money on a taxi all the way to Braintree. Mike had picked her up in his car, but neither of them was in any condition to drive.

So it was that they all slept under the same roof that night, and thus how it came to be that Dmitri's nightmare screams woke all four of them in the wee hours of the morning.