The Boy Who Came in From the Cold (15 page)

“Let me get that,” Todd said and helped him take it off. He dashed off to the bathroom and returned less than a moment later, the coat free of snow. A big smile spread across his face and he laughed. “Your hair!” Todd reached up and patted at Gabe’s hair and let out another laugh. “Just call me ‘Head and Shoulders’.”

Gabe felt a wonderful little lurch in his heart. He’d been touched so rarely in the last year or so that even Todd’s small gesture felt wonderful. The kid was standing so close Gabe could smell the shampoo and herbal soap he liked to buy at The Village Herbal. Todd had shaved, except for his chin and those wide sideburns that worked for him. Gabe could even see the slight impression of Todd’s nipples through the thin fabric of the shirt.

God! I gotta get laid. Todd’s killing me. This is ridiculous. Do you even know his last name?

Shitfire. He didn’t, did he? And now seemed an awfully strange time to ask.

 

“Go on,” Todd instructed him. “Get showered. Get out of that monkey suit. Dinner in about a half hour, okay?”

 

Gabe nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Sure.”

 

He went down the hall to his room and found his folded laundry on the bed.
Todd washed my clothes? Daniel didn’t wash my clothes.
But then, Daniel didn’t wash his own clothes.

The laundry was folded neatly—underwear too—and Gabe wondered if that had made Todd feel weird.
Of course, he’s wearing your underwear right now
, he realized. And damn, did the thought turn him on? Thinking about the fact that Todd’s body was clothed in a shirt, jeans, and underwear—oh, especially the underwear—that until today had never been worn by anyone but himself? Thinking that Todd’s most private parts were where his own usually were?

Gabe realized he was hard. He shook himself.

 

Shower. Yes. Showering always did the trick.

 

Usually, he exercised first—and that thought made him think of walking in on Todd earlier that day.

God, it had been sexy. Did that make him a total shit? Todd had obviously been going through some big mental thing. How embarrassing must it have been to have someone walk in on him like that? Especially when he had a hard-on?

Skip the workout today.
Skipping two days in a row wasn’t a good idea, but hell.
I won’t die
.

Shower!
Gabe wasn’t sure why, but instead of putting everything away, he decided to wear some of the clothes Todd had washed—touched, folded. Once again he was being schoolgirl silly, but hell. Todd would be gone soon, why not indulge a little fantasy? It wasn’t like anything was going to happen between them.
So it was the jeans, the blue Papi underwear, and his Chief’s shirt. Finally, socks and his most beat-up pair of Nikes.
Speaking of which, what about Todd’s dreadful Converse sneakers? Had he washed them? Gabe hoped so. They’d been filthy.

Worse, they were falling apart. Why wasn’t there a cheap place to get shoes around here? There was J. Crew and ALDO on the Plaza, of course, stores where he bought his own shoes. A new pair of Converse sneakers wouldn’t be more than about sixty, seventy bucks. Yet something told him Todd wouldn’t let him—that he would have country-boy, I-won’t-accept-charity ideals. But the closest Walmart, where they could find something for twenty bucks, was thirty minutes away. And with the hour and the snow, it just wasn’t a viable option tonight. Maybe this weekend?

Weekend? You’re going to let him stay until the weekend? Why not?
he thought. He liked having someone around. It made the big apartment less empty.

He made his way to the kitchen and found Todd bent over, taking the chicken out of the oven, and
What a butt!
It was broad and strong and round and downright breathtaking.

Got to get laid. Got to get laid. Got to get laid!

And how you gonna do that?
I’ve gotten laid before.

There were all kinds of possibilities. Craigslist. E-MaleConnect. He could go to one of the gay bars in town.
I’m not exactly chopped liver. When I set my… mind to it, I usually find someone.

Then you only wind up feeling even lonelier after. Besides, you’re gonna bring someone home with Todd here?

 

Gabe sighed and Todd spun around with a start. “Oh! You surprised me.”

 

“Sorry,” Gabe said sheepishly.

“How can a guy as big as you be so quiet?” Todd was holding a large casserole dish in front of him with a pair of oven mitts. The chicken, which was half wrapped in foil, was beautiful. It smelled even better.

“That looks amazing, Todd.”

A pleased look came over Todd’s face. “Thank you.” He turned and crossed into the small dining room and set it on the table. It had already been set for two. Then he returned to the oven and pulled out a pan of twice-baked potatoes. Gabe practically drooled. They looked even better than the chicken. “I hope they’re okay,” Todd said. “I did something a little weird, but I wanted them to complement the stuffing.”

“Stuffing?” Gabe asked.
“Sure.” Todd grinned and winked. “You’ll see. Sit down.” Gabe did as bid, almost asked if Todd wanted to eat by

candlelight, and realized that would certainly be pushing things. But this felt so right. It felt like what he’d always wanted. As Todd bustled about, it was so easy to imagine them eating, then cuddling, then going off to bed.

But dinner was all he was getting tonight.

And as Todd took Gabe’s plate, cut off a large breast and wing portion, scooped out some fruity-looking concoction from inside, and

then added a potato, Gabe suddenly felt more content than he had in ages.

That was when the apartment buzzer went off, startling them both.
Now who the hell could that be?

“Sorry,” said Gabe, and he rose and went to the threshold and pressed the intercom button. “Hello?” he said.

 

“Gabe, my boy! You’re home.”
Peter? What was he doing here?
“How fortuitous! I was hoping you’d be there. Ring me up?”

 

O
NE minute they were about to sit down to dinner, where Todd hoped Gabe would be impressed, and then everything had changed.

Minutes after that damned buzzer had gone off—“I am so sorry,” Gabe had told Todd as he pressed the button that would let Peter in. “He’s my boss.”—and their solitude was broken by a character right out of
A Christmas Carol
.

The man seemed impossibly tall, but when Todd got up to meet him, he saw the older man wasn’t any taller than Gabe. He was thin, though, almost gangly, with a narrow chest and what looked like disproportionately long arms and legs, all clothed in a suit that looked like it cost a million bucks. The man had to be sixty if he was a day— his face had begun to take on the creases of age, his great mop of hair almost silver—and yet, oh how his eyes danced!

“Greetings, greetings!” cried the man, holding his cane before him as if he were ready to part the Red Sea.

 

“Hello, Peter,” said Gabe.

 

“Peter” gave Gabe a big hug, and then spun to face Todd. “And you must be Gabriel’s houseguest. Charmed!
Charmed
, I’m sure.” He held out his hand and Todd took it carefully, and then was surprised at the strength in the grip.

 

“I am Peter Wagner,” he said, his voice musical and vaguely British. “And you?”