Enrique

My heart was about to fall out my ass, I had known Oliver's mother for more than ten years and never in my entire life had I been under the impression that she could kill me with her bare hands, but that was currently exactly what I believed was about to happen. This woman wanted me dead and planned on being the one to do it.

He would only be gone for a minute or two, maybe five at most. She couldn't do that much harm to me in only five minutes, right? How long did it take cyanide to work, again? I wanted to apologize to her once more, to make her understand that I meant the things I said. I truly did regret hurting Oliver; I truly did love him and I was determined to make sure he knew that.

My brain wasn't allowing me to speak, though. Instead I stood there, avoiding all eye contact and shoving my hands in the pockets of my pants, leaning into myself in an attempt to seem smaller, even though I was taller than she was.

Eventually she broke the tension, sighing heavily just before she spoke.

"Are you using protection?" Was all she said to me, causing my face to redden even more. Although no one had walked in on us, we had been caught. She absolutely knew that we'd had sex upstairs and then tried to come to dinner as though nothing had happened.

Although I tried to say yes, no sound actually came out, meaning all I could do was nod silently while she looked at me.

"The last thing he needs is for you to give him something permanent."

"I-"

Before I was able to say more, the elevator door opened with a ding and Oliver walked out in a different outfit, now dawning a gray v-neck he'd styled with a matching newsboy cap and a dark purple pashmina that looked significantly oversized in comparison to his tiny frame. I very rarely saw him in tee-shirts, although I knew he owned a few from Gucci, and couldn't help but notice he looked even smaller without layering clothing on top of one another. He hadn't hit the point of having a protruding rib cage, though he had a slightly visible one, but his stomach did concave into his hips. To be frank, it was getting to the point where I was growing concerned whether or not he was eating even remotely enough. He just seemed so busy all the time…

"Sorry," Was all he said, appearing for the first time to feel uncomfortable around his mother. Not in the way I currently was, there was no fear on his face, only embarrassment. "That was extremely unbecoming of me."

Her entire demeanor seemed to warm at the sad look he wore, brushing a bit of hair behind his ear, decorated with a diamond stud, and kissing the top of his head.

"You aren't sixteen, Oliver. It's important that you behave with the maturity of an adult, you know better."

"Yes, mama…"

She looked my direction, giving an irritated shake of the head. He got a gentle reminder, I got treated like a sexual predator. I couldn't help but wonder if she had treated his ex the same way. He'd acknowledged that the relationship had been short lived, hardly more than a few months. She might not have even acknowledged the possibility that he'd lost his virginity when he was seventeen, a clear belief that he had a good head on his shoulders and knew how to always make the best decisions.

Was that what the look she gave me was? Had she thought that I took his virginity? Had she thought that I just took his virginity?!

I was absolutely never going to be able to look her in the eye again.

Oliver took my hand in his, walking me into the dining room that I'd eaten in many times before and giving a warm hello to his father and sister, who sat with perfect posture even while giving me a look that made it clear I was unwanted. I hadn't seen Vicky in years and was surprised how much she looked like him, hair pulled back in a white ribbon and bangs falling just passed her eyebrows. She had also, for lack of a better word, filled out quite a bit during the time I was gone, going from being mostly flat chested and baby faced to having extremely sharp features and an impressive bust that would have caught my attention for a much different reason had I not known her since she was six. I could only imagine how popular she must be with the boys at her school.

"Do you believe me now?" Their father huffed at her while giving me the stink eye.

"Oliver," She piped up, "You're seriously dating Enrique? I thought they were playing a prank on me! Have you lost your marbles?"

"Is it too much to ask that a single member of my immediate family at least pretend to believe I have good reasons in the decision I've made?"

Every second that went by caused the current situation to become more and more awkward. His entire family wanted my head in a damn trophy case. Had he dramatized what it was that had happened? Don't get me wrong, what I had done was bad, but they were acting like I'd attempted to use him as a human sacrifice while twirling my evil mustache.

"Not when this is your decision." Vicky huffed.

"You do realize I'm standing right here, right?" I blurted out, the whole family going silent in order to stare at me as though potatoes were growing out of my ears or I had claimed the Dutch had better food than the French. "I mean, what do you guys even think happened? Do you think I just showed up again one day and he ran into my arms? Oliver hated me just as much as you guys did when I came back. You're treating him like a child."

Oliver turned to look at me, the tension he'd held in his face suddenly becoming extremely relaxed as our eyes met. Although I had expected him to scold me for my outburst, he did what was probably the exact opposite, a small smile forming on his face when my eyes met his. He looked… proud of me?

"This isn't the time or place to argue about this," He spoke without averting the gaze, suddenly unable to stop staring at me. "Please, can we just sit down and eat?"

There was a silent mutual agreement and he put his hand in mine, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling me alongside him. He was absolutely being petty, not exactly taking the time to think about how incredibly uncomfortable this whole thing was for me. I had done my fair share of getting people on my bad side in my life, but having a whole sit down dinner consisting only of people who absolutely did not want me there was something a little different, especially when you remembered that my appetizer had been Oliver's DNA.

"Take your hat off at the table, dear," His mother stated, appearing a bit annoyed with him now. "Honestly, love, you know better."

I was starting to think the repeated use of that statement might not be due to his lack of manners.

"Pardon me," He giggled quietly, "I'm not sure what's gotten into me today."

"You can say that again," Vicky huffed.

I was really beginning to hit the point of wishing I didn't understand French, even if I only viewed myself as knowing it conversationally after so many years as opposed to fluently. Would this entire situation be more or less awkward if I couldn't actually understand anything they were saying?

"Don't you mind her," He whispered my direction, gently touching a hand to my shaking knee. "They're all going to come around."

I appreciated his positivity, a part of his personality that I had grown to miss between my years of leaving and coming back. His family had once been warm and welcoming to me, similar to the way he was right now. We used to engage in conversation, tell stories around the dining room table and laugh… I'd always felt so welcomed by them. It was hard having them look at me like I was a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. It hurt, and it was humiliating.

Yet, unlike when I'd invited him to my parents gala and he'd had to endure some of the things my siblings had said to his face, I had something he didn't that day.

I had someone there to stand up for me.

It made me feel like even more of a jerk…

XXX
Enrique

It had been a quiet dinner, the only real discussion being to pass the butter while we all just picked at food awkwardly. Oliver was the only one who appeared in a good mood, giving me a small smirk every few minutes or touching a hand to my knee. He was trying to keep me calm, likely being able to sense my anxiety. Not that I was hiding it well.

"Let's sit outside for a bit," He said as we removed ourselves from the table, "The weather has been beautiful lately, we might as well enjoy it."

He took my hand, leading me out of the dining room and over to where the door to one of the patios was, pausing only to open it before taking me under the freshly painted awning. Large flower beds took over most of the area, with minimal furniture outside of a swinging bench and a single table and chair set. I knew they had a significantly larger one on the other side of the house, this one appearing to be a slightly newer extension, assuming that it hadn't just gone unnoticed by me for years.

"Well, that wasn't awkward at all," I said with an uncomfortable chuckle.

Oliver relaxed his face, finally dropping the act of trying to warm his parents up to me by dialing his charm as high as it could possibly go.

"I suppose it could have gone worse," He sighed. We walked over to the porch swing, taking a seat together before he leaned his head into my shoulder. "I'm sorry that my family is being so blunt."

"I can't possibly imagine where they got the attitude from," I laughed, "It definitely doesn't appear familiar at all."

"I guess this is why I want to take things slow," He sighed, "It's a big adjustment."

I pulled my feet up onto the bench, giving Oliver more space to lay himself into my chest and holding him tightly. He did well in playing the part of not caring what any of their opinions were, similar at how he did well with pretending that nothing ever bothered him. It was an odd realization that had taken me time to figure out. The entire time I'd known him he had been by far the most secure of the four of us, hardly even seeming large enough for his body to contain the ego he had. You'd never find someone less humble, who loved talking about themselves the way he did. He largely lacked social awareness but it hadn't ever been something anyone could blame him for. He had lived a privileged and extremely sheltered life.

It made it so easy to miss that one little part he kept tucked away; hidden from the outside world.

He was incredibly insecure.

"I guess I really screwed today up, didn't I?" I said, hoping my awkward smile made me look playful and not like a douchebag.

"Screwed up?" He asked. "How so? You didn't do anything."

"I could have been a bit more careful with the necking, or at least noticed before we came down that I'd given you a hickey."

"Again, I might add," He laughed. "You gave me two the first time, I was stuck in a turtleneck just as it was beginning to get hot out."

"It's France, everyone is in a turtleneck."

"Just don't go around thinking that you can mark me as your property or anything of the sort, I'm quite independent and I prefer it that way."

"Let's see… you do art by yourself, run a bakery mostly by yourself, get a boner at the idea of doing solos on stage… I would say that you seem to require constant supervision."

"Oh, shut up."

"And now you're using rude language? Really, Oliver, you know better." I laughed, paying homage to what his mother had been saying to him today. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"For what?"

"When we were at the gala. I knew my sisters were making you uncomfortable, I should have stood up for you."

He was silent for a moment, processing what I had said.

"I forgive you," He eventually sighed, "I know this is all new to you and I know you're trying."

He sat up, now sitting so that my legs were laying over his lap. Digging into his pocket, he lit a cigarette silently, allowing the conversation to temporarily wind down. It felt nice, honestly, taking in the sounds around us as we sat outside. There was no wind today, the trees making no noise to cover up the birds that sang in them and I thought about what he had asked back when we were upstairs.

Could I see myself marrying him someday? It wasn't legal in Italy and honestly I had never looked into what countries it was, so I wasn't sure if it was legal here either. I'd never actually taken in the concept of two men getting married, now wondering how it worked. My entire family was catholic and there was absolutely no way one of the churches would ever let that happen, but Oliver was very openly an atheist and I wasn't currently sure what beliefs I even held.

"Did your parents ever have the thought that you might be gay before you came out?" I asked. I vaguely knew the story of when he told his parents, but I wasn't exactly there when it happened.

"My mother knew."

"Why didn't she ever say anything to you?"

"I actually asked her that once," He smiled, "She said it didn't feel like her place to force it out of me and that she knew I would tell her when I was ready. She claims she knew before I was even five. Honestly, I think in a way my father did too. Maybe he was in more denial than she was, but I mean… You said that you, Johnny and Robert had already known as well."

"Known feels like a strong word," I shrugged. "It came up in conversation sometimes, though. Not all the time, it's not like we were gossiping about whether or not you were interested in chicks or dicks while growing up, but Johnny and I would talk about girls with each other all the time and although he was more polite about it than the two of us, Rob would also make the occasional comment about an actress or sometimes a girl just walking down the street, you know? We teased him a lot about it or claimed we had seen someone who was his type, but we just… never acknowledged you. Maybe I didn't necessarily realized you liked guys per say, but I definitely noticed that you weren't interested in girls. I decided to make a comment about it once, just asking them what they thought your type was, and Johnny just started laughing. Even Robert got this sudden smug look, like he knew what he was thinking, but that was where it always ended. We never actually talked about the elephant in the room."

"I think my first memory of noticing I was different was when the girls at my primary school seemed to be the only ones who ever wanted to play with me," He explained without me needing to ask. "I was so young at the time, though. I don't think I really caught on to the reason why. I thought that I was supposed to play with the other boys because that's just how it works in your head as a kid. Boys like boy things and girls like girl things. The only things I acknowledged as even being 'girl things' were dresses and dolls, which I wasn't interested in anyway. The boys would play house with me occasionally, or do an art project, but the girls were the ones who genuinely seemed to enjoy my company. Then when I tried to play games that were traditionally more masculine I seemed to fall flat. All I had in common with any of them was an interest in paleontology."

"Oliver, just say you went through a dinosaur phase."

"Hang on, now, all they wanted to do was pretend to eat people, I wanted to dig up fossils and learn different names and habitats."

"In other words: You were a nerd."

"I'm just saying that I graduated early and you were almost held back in Nursery because you constantly cried."

"I told you that in confidence!"

"I didn't tell anyone, I'm just reminding you."

"I was the youngest of six kids, I was spoiled and didn't like being away from my mom."

He laughed, leaning back into me again and resting his head to my chest. Although I hadn't expected it, I absolutely loved how cuddly he was. He was always laying on me or holding my hand and he liked to kiss, though he could lay the tongue on a bit thick sometimes.

"Once we were about ten some of the other boys started talking about girls. I didn't understand the things they were saying. We learned all of the health class information and everything like that, I understood the differences between boys and girls, I knew how women got pregnant although I still wasn't exactly positive how the act of sex itself worked, but I felt like a complete outcast when it came to the conversations they had. I didn't see girls any differently than I had years before that, they were just people. Some of the boys, though…" He paused. "It wasn't in a sexual way yet so much as it was curiosity, but I remember wondering things about their bodies."

"I mean, it's not like you didn't know what guys looked like naked," I smirked, holding him close as he spoke. "Not even just yourself, I'm not sure about your school, but we changed together for gym all the time in school. It was no big deal."

"I was going through puberty," He reminded me. "When your body starts changing, it's normal to wonder about everyone else. I wasn't thinking about having sex when I wasn't even in secondary school yet, but you wonder if your friends are having the same changes. Hell, it's not like I had no curiosity about the girls bodies, I was young and I was curious and everything I was feeling was completely normal."

"So then when did you start not feeling normal?"

"When one of my friends got his first kiss, the start of secondary school, and started bragging to us about it… I wondered what it had felt like, but not in the way I was supposed to. I didn't wonder what it felt like to kiss her-"

"You wondered about him?" I asked.

He gulped.

"I got aroused…"

"Did any of that even have to do with sexual orientation at that age? I mean, I popped a boner during maths once. Dick's have minds of their own at that age."

"Did you really have no idea?" Oliver asked, squeezing my hand tightly as he pretended not to be uncomfortable. "Did you not have the slightest clue as a kid that you found men to be attractive?"

I thought about it for a moment, recalling how one sided conversations had been at that age. All the boys ever talked about were which girls were the cutest, or who had the nicest chest. Everyone had some 'totally true story' about fingering a girl during summer camp. The possibility of me being bisexual was never something that entered my mind. Not until Oliver uttered those words to us.

It was like the image I'd had of myself had shattered.

I couldn't run away from those feelings, though. Even when I left the curiosity stayed with me and I suddenly found myself noticing men who presented more feminine. I didn't have a great gay-dar per say, but there was a certain type of guy who was easy to pick up on the orientation of.

"Maybe I was just in denial," I shrugged. "I couldn't exactly stay in it, though. I mean, you know my history with both sexes."

"How long did it take for you to have your first experience with another man?"

"I was nineteen. I paid him…"

"I'm sorry, you did what?" He spat out, a look of both bewilderment and amusement on his face. I couldn't help but laugh along with him when thinking about how self conscious I had been about the entire thing, as though having sex with an overtly feminine Puerto Rican guy was gonna somehow make national news. Something awoke in me that day, though.

"I know it sounds pathetic now, but I wanted to be discreet. He didn't ask my name or anything, not that I would have given it to him, I would have just made one up, but it just felt like the easiest way to experiment."

"I really should have asked about the last time you were tested," He laughed. "Before our first time, I mean."

"I already told you that I'm clean!"

He propped his elbows up onto my chest, digging into my rib cage and making me need to reposition myself, then he kissed me. Not a quick peck or shoving his tongue in my mouth, but truly kissed me the way someone does to the person they love. It lasted long enough for me to wrap my arms around his torso, holding him close while taking the moment in. When he pulled away he touched his forehead to mine and sighed deeply before going in for a second one, which was interrupted by the sound of the patio door opening.

"Can you two get a room please?" Vicky asked while giving me an irritated glare. "You're visible through the living room window and it's grossing me out."

Oliver chuckled as he pulled himself off of me, blushing slightly while not making eye contact.

"Sorry," He laughed, "I kind of forgot about that."

I couldn't help but smile.

He was such a liar.