Page 64 of Big Britches
“Pantalones, por favor. Khakis,” Pedro said, removing his pants.
“Hm. You’re almost naked.”
“That’s because I have just enough time to shower and get dressed before we leave. Perhaps if I’d had more than a day’s notice that I was having dinner with the mayor, I would have been better prepared. Where’s Tucker? What’s he wearing?”
“He’s spending the night with Shelly. Roz left with them about an hour ago.” Titus pulled Pedro close again, offering a sad puppy-dog face. “I’ve been here all alone, just waiting for you to come through that door.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re gonna have to wait some more. There’s no time for the hanky-panky. Maybe after.”
Titus looked at his watch. “We have plenty of time. Before and after.”
“I need to clip some flowers for a bouquet.”
Titus nuzzled Pedro’s neck, pressing tighter to him. “First, you’re gonna get down on your knees, unzip my shorts, and get me good and hard. After that, I’m gonna bend you over that bed and get you nice and slick. Then I’m gonna make you come while we do it doggy style.”
“You’ve given this some thought, I see.”
“All day long. Yesterday and today.”
“It’s very tempting.”
“I was hoping you’d think so.”
“I like facing you when I come, though.”
“Then maybe–” Titus continued, voice lilting. “–if you’re a good boy and do exactly what I say, I’ll roll you over, step up to the plate, and hit a grand slam like Crime Dog.”
“Um.” Pedro’s brow furrowed. “The baseball metaphor’s not working.”
“Sorry. Stay with me. How about…I’ll roll you over, put your leg on my shoulder, and make you feel me where you’ve never felt me before?”
Like magic, Pedro felt a shift within himself. The movement of his eyes slowed from frenetic to focused. More than that, though, his demeanor altered too. His anxiousness dissipated, consumed by a burgeoning sexual energy, relaxed, yet empowering. His lips curled upward slowly, eyes offering Titus a seductive twinkle.
“Fifteen minutes,” he said.
They only needed ten.
After they showered and dressed, Pedro quickly clipped some hydrangea, gardenia, and baby’s breath. He arranged them to his liking in a vase on the counter before transferring the flowers to paper and wrapping them. He held the bouquet up for Titus to see.
“It’s beautiful,” Titus said.
“I’m happy you approve.”
“Looks professional.”
“Better. They’re fresh. Nothing like fresh flowers.”
“I love you.”
The words, equally fresh and spontaneous on Titus’s part, surprised Pedro. He’d been so preoccupied with making everything perfect for his first official dinner with the parents that hearing them stunned him.
He lowered the bouquet, their eyes meeting. Titus was so handsome in his snug khakis and his white polo shirt. His dark hair was still wet from the shower, finger-combed back, with one rebellious Superman curl resting on his forehead. Pedro had never seen him don anything other than shorts and t-shirts which–though appropriate for Georgia heat–were much less mature. What he saw now was everything he had ever dreamed of in a man—handsome, successful, caring, confident—standing right in front of him. However, this perfect image, in combination with those three words, hit him like a sucker punch. He felt dizzy, disoriented, and worst of all, guilty as he watched the assurance drain from Titus’s expression with each passing second of his silence.
“I–”
“You don’t have to say it,” Titus said, averting his eyes. “I know I jumped the gun. Probably seems desperate too, having just asked you to move in. I can’t help it, P. I’ve known for a while now, maybe since we first met, if that’s possible. And seeing you all dressed up, taking the time to make a gift for my mother–who you don’t even know–I… I just couldn’t hold back anymore.”
Pedro laid the bouquet down on the counter and went to embrace him. “I feel the same. I do. It’s just hard for me to say it–that’s all. I’m scared, T. The last time I was happy in life, things changed so fast. Sometimes, I feel like I’m still spinning.”