XXX

Enrique

"Taste this for me," Oliver stated, sticking a wooden spoon in my face coated with whatever concoction he'd been working on for most of the morning.

"You aren't supposed to eat raw egg," I reminded him.

"Just do it."

I smirked, dipping a finger in the foamy substance and licking it off. Although it seemed to be mostly sugar, it had a hint of something I couldn't quite seem to make out. Not that I was complaining, I'd actually lucked out quite a bit in regards to dating an insanely good cook.

"It's fine," I shrugged.

"Just fine?"

"I mean, it isn't even finished yet."

He tapped my forehead gently with the dessert coated spoon, leaving a large dollop of batter behind.

"You are useless."

"I don't recall you complaining last night."

He smirked, blushing slightly as he brushed a piece of hair behind his ear. He seemed to be growing it out again, making me question why he had cut it in the first place. Honestly, I was a bit fascinated by how much length he'd managed in the span of just over a month, bangs already nearing his jawline and held back by a thick white headband. Only while cooking, of course, there was no way he would be caught dead with his hair like that in public.

Had we really been dating for a month?

Taking a napkin from atop the counter, I wiped my face off before getting up from the kitchen stool and approaching him, taking my hands to the cress of his back before kissing his neck gently.

"Knock it off," He giggled, "I'm trying to work."

"I can't help it, you're too cute to not kiss."

"You're sweet," He smiled, "I need to finish this, though. If I leave a batter out like this it's going to lose all the air that's mixed in and become flat."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"If you touch any of my recipes before they're done I will cut your dick off."

"Noted," I laughed, pulling him close to me for just a moment longer before allowing him to continue his current project. He always seemed to be in the middle of something new when I came over, be it a recipe, a painting, or some sort of renovation. He made the kids in secondary school who snorted Adderall look lazy in comparison and I was certain he would take that as a compliment.

"Listen," He smirked, pouring the batter into some sort of pouch I couldn't identify. "I was asked if I wanted to meet up with a few of my friends tonight; I thought maybe it would be a good time for me to start… you know, introducing you to other people in my life."

"You have friends?"

"I also have a chefs knife within grabbing distance, you know."

I chuckled, watching him cut the end of the bag off, the tip of his tongue out in concentration.

"What are you doing, by the way?"

"It's a piping bag, cheri," He laughed. "No avoiding the question, though-"

"That technically wasn't a question,"

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" He rolled his eyes, making small dollops of batter onto a silicone baking sheet, unsuccessfully attempting not to smirk in a way that made me melt inside. "I want you to come with me. I'd like a chance to show you off a little bit."

"I'm not sure my French is what one would call 'show off' quality."

"You'll do fine; besides, it would mean a lot to me." He put his head down slightly, raising his eyebrows just enough to give off a perfect sad pout while leaning his elbows against the marble counter top. "Please?"

Pulling myself up higher onto the counter, I leaned in and kissed his lips.

"You already know I will," I smirked. "You don't have to turn the cuteness up so high."

It was something I'd noticed him doing recently in order to get his way, even during instances where I hadn't actually told him no. Just like when we were children, he was incredibly good at getting his way.

"Anyway," He continued, "I think my friends will react better than my parents did."

"I would hope so."

"They're coming around."

He turned away from me, taking the baking tray he'd filled and putting it into the preheated oven.

"Most of my family has chosen to just brush the whole thing under the rug," I reminded him. "Just because they've accepted it, doesn't mean they like it. I know they'd rather I be with a girl. What are you making, by the way?"

"Macarons. My mom acts as though I am a girl, so if we just put the two of them together we'll end up with one perfect parent." He laughed. "Back on topic, though… I'm meeting Celeste and a few friends for wine and dinner, so I figured I would introduce the two of you on better terms while also introducing you to everyone whose first impression isn't you making an ass of yourself."

I nodded, blushing slightly at the memory. I'd humiliated myself that day.

"How did your friends react, by the way? To you having a boyfriend."

"They haven't, we've all been a bit busy lately and haven't had much time to talk."

It was a fair statement, overall. I hadn't exactly been upfront with my relationship status, either. Honestly, I wasn't quite sure how to acknowledge it. This wasn't like in school where you paraded your significant other on your arm through the hallways like some sort of fashion accessory. On top of that, we lived nowhere near one another. Even if it didn't mean coming out to the world as bisexual, I wasn't exactly sure how the entire thing was supposed to work. Was I expected to correct people if they asked if I had a girlfriend, or was I just supposed to say no?

"It's a lot to open up about," I sighed, laying my head down on the counter.

"Hey," Oliver said gently, walking around to the side I sat at and touching a hand to my back. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I smirked, shaking my head at him without making eye contact. "You shouldn't be worrying about me." I sat upright, hopping off the stool and wrapping my arms around him. "I just hope your friends like me."

"They will," He giggled, planting a kiss on my cheek. "You're quite the charmer."

I took in the scent of his almond milk shampoo, nuzzling my face into his head of soft, fluffy hair. I couldn't ever seem to get enough of how good he always smelled, reminding me of the inside of a bath boutique. I knew he didn't like being treated like a girl, but I did wonder if he would be upset knowing how much I loved the feminine side of him. He was so small in my arms, making me feel like his protector even while knowing he was more than capable of taking care of himself.

I'd never felt so lucky, wondering for what was probably the hundredth time what I possibly could have done.

What had I done to deserve him?

XXX

Oliver

I took Enrique's hand in mine, interlacing our fingers together as we made our way into the adequately sized wine bar and taking just a single moment to touch my head to his shoulder. He didn't exactly look nervous and if anything, uncomfortable was probably the better word to use. I understood his reasoning, of course. This was new territory for him. I had never really succeeded in maintaining friendships with my peers until I started college, meaning that, for most of the time we knew one another, I had lacked the sort of social circle that I had truly desired.

"We have a usual table we sit at," I explained, leading the both of us down a small stairwell, the florescent lighting coming into a dim as we made our way back. Celeste sat with her back toward us, covering her mouth while she giggled at something Genevieve had said. It didn't typically take her long to catch sight of me, and now I couldn't help but smirk at the idea that I would be catching her off guard.

"Pardon me," I smiled while bringing a hand down to her shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Oh, please," She chuckled sarcastically, pulling me into a gentle side hug without getting up from her seat. "You're always late. If you weren't, you wouldn't be able to bask in the glory of everyone noticing you walk in."

Her long, blonde hair was pulled back into a twist, decorated with a clip of costume jewelry and sprayed so tightly into place that I was quite confident that, even with the piece removed, the style would be going absolutely nowhere.

"You know me too well," I giggled, leaning into Genee as well and giving the boys a small wave. Enrique stood cautiously behind me, not making a peep until the moment I pulled him to my side. "Um… Celeste?" I tried to explain awkwardly. "You remember Enrique, right?"

She gave him a once over, raising a confused eyebrow in my direction.

"I'm not sure… Have we met?"

"At our last recital. You might recognize him better if I coat him in hair gel and rum."

"Hang on," She snapped her fingers, "You're that guy! The one who was stalking Oliver."

"I wasn't stalking him!" He finally piped up, face turning red in embarrassment. "He was my best friend when we were kids and I hadn't seen him in a long time-"

I elbowed him gently in the ribs, silencing him as the remaining air left his body.

"He's my boyfriend," I smiled shyly. "I mean, he wasn't at the time… The whole thing is still relatively new. We're together, though. Dating, I mean."

She eyed the two of us for a moment, taking in what I had said silently as the banter of the world around us carried in the background. She seemed to be deciding on whether to believe me or not, along with whether to trust him.

"You have a boyfriend?" Her smile grew wider and she stood up from her chair, wrapping her arms around me tightly. "Ollie!" She laughed, "It's about fucking time!"

"You know I hate it when you call me that," I giggled, face reddening at her overenthusiastic response.

Genee also smirked at me from her chair, now turned off to the side as she looked backward in my direction with her cheek rested to the palm of her hand.

"You do plan on giving us a more proper introduction, right?" She asked. "You two have known each other since you were kids?"

"Not little kids or anything, since we were preteens. Although I think we met once or twice when we were toddlers as well. Enrique's mother is good friends with my aunt."

"Enrique. That's Spanish, isn't it?"

"I'm Italian," He piped in, "My parents just liked the name."

"Well, Oliver," She laughed, giving a wink my my direction, "I suppose you lucked out, then. They say Italian men are supposed to be great in bed."

"Anyway," I interrupted, ignoring the statement. "Enrique, the two with the big mouths are Celeste and Genevieve. The boys," I pointed across the table, "are Remy, Bernard and Theo."

He gave an awkward hello, spending just a bit too long staring at me in confusion before finally concluding I was waiting on him to pull a chair out for me, something which made him smirk while rolling his eyes before pecking me on the temple as I sat down.

"I give in," Celeste said, "You two are adorable. How did this even happen? How did our precious little egomaniac finally manage to fall for someone?"

"Why is everyone suddenly forgetting that I've had a boyfriend before?" I huffed.

"Because that predatory douche bag didn't count."

"I've told you a hundred times that the relationship wasn't predatory. I was of age."

"You had just turned seventeen and you looked about three years younger. I'm not even convinced you had your first pube yet."

"Enough," Enrique stated, his tone showing a clear annoyance toward the banter that, had I been anyone else, he would have taken part in. "Leave him alone."

A warm feeling began to fill my chest, making me not dare to tell him that we always spoke to one another that way and that I was just as guilty as the two girls when it came to inappropriate behavior. It was rude, but it was also playful. He was quickly becoming protective of me, something that made him feel more like mine.

"My heart is melting," Celeste swooned, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, "What an absolute sweetheart. Why are the good guys always gay?"

"Your boyfriend is sitting right across from you," I giggled, pushing her away as I made eye contact with Bernard. "Besides, Enrique isn't gay. He's bisexual."

"Intriguing. So have you been with women before, Enrique?" She asked.

"In what world is that an appropriate question?" I smiled.

"In the city of love, mon amie,"

Enrique was trying not to giggle, giving the appearance of an awkward discomfort while also quickly fitting in with the remainder of the group, which didn't surprise me in the least. It was something he'd always been good at, managing to conform to whoever he happened to be nearest to. It was a part of his natural charm and charisma.

"I've had girlfriends," He shrugged, "None of my past relationships ever went far, though."

"Have you had boyfriends?"

"Nope, he's my first," His eyes met mine and I raised an eyebrow, "and last, I hope," He giggled.

"So how did this whole thing happen?"

"It's complicated," I sighed. "A long story."

"What he means is that I was a complete jerk to him and he forgave me against all better judgment."

"How so?"

"I haven't been out for very long…" He explained, "I mean, I've known, but I guess I was in denial. I didn't handle it very well."

"An understatement," I smiled.

"Oliver has been really patient with me."

"I remember what it feels like," I said, "Not knowing how people will react, I mean. There's a lot of anxiety involved on top of all that fear that your loved ones aren't going to accept you. Given, I don't know if I can say I was ever in denial that I was gay, I definitely knew from a young age that I liked boys, but it didn't make it any easier to accept."

"Honestly, he's probably right about it being an understatement," Enrique continued. "You guys would want nothing to do with me if you knew the way I treated him back then. I was a terrible friend."

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Oliver," Bernard pipped in suddenly with a laugh, "This one isn't in denial, though, which is a nice change of pace. Assuming he doesn't make me suddenly seem like a terrible boyfriend."

We bantered playfully for a few more moments before ordering wine, Enrique giving me a knowing smirk that made me blush. He knew better than to bring up what had happened the last time we drank together, at least not if he ever wanted to have sex again.

"Where in Italy are you from?" Remy asked, twirling his glass toward his nose and allowing the scent to release.

"Rome," Enrique mumbled.

"Are you as rich as Oliver is?"

"I'm not sure we've ever actually taken the time to compare finances, so for now I would just call us equal."

"Excuse me," I smirked, "I have money that I earned myself, you have your parents and a partially eaten up trust fund."

"Oh, like you aren't just as much a rich brat as I am,"

"Is this the reason you've been taking time off of work?" Celeste asked, "You've been hanging out with your future husband?"

"I'm not sure I would go that far yet, we've only been dating for a month."

The sound of cutlery being dropped on the table caused me to jump, silence now filling the immediate space around us.

"A month? You've been dating for a month and you never told us!?"

"I'm not required to inform you of every single aspect of my life."

"I respectfully disagree."

A glimmer of hope shined over Enrique's face, a comforting realization that my friends weren't judging him that way he'd expected. They were playful and interested in the life he lived both with me and before me, causing him to slowly drop the shy act he'd been putting on and come fully out of his shell.

"I'm glad that Ollie has you guys," He said, "You seem like you're good for him."

"So Enrique is allowed to call you Ollie but I'm not?"

"You're not the one sticking it in him," Theo said, causing Enrique to burst into embarrassed laughter, hiding his head behind his arms.

"Maybe that's why he's been less cranky lately." Genee added.

I hid a smile behind my hand, using the other to touch Celeste on the shoulder while getting up to my feet.

"Come and take a smoke break with me," I said, pulling back from the table.

She gave a nod, following me toward the glass doors that went out onto the patio, face bright with sudden enthusiasm.

"I never thought I would see the day," She said, "Our little Oliver, finally falling in love."

"I never said I was in love with him,"

"The way that you were staring at him every time one of you spoke tells me otherwise. You always seemed so awkward around JP, you never wanted him to touch you or hold your hand in public. There's no nervousness around this guy, though. You look so comfortable together and you converse like a couple is supposed to. There's so much chemistry there already."

"You would have said the same thing about Jean Pierre had he been just a few years younger. The only reason you didn't like him was because of the age difference. Besides, Enrique and I have known each other for years. We literally watched each other grow up, you don't really think that's a fair comparison, do you?"

"He took advantage of you, you don't take a teenagers virginity on the first date when you're five years their senior. Would you sleep with an eighteen year old knowing what you know now in life?"

"I slept with Enrique the first day he came back into my life."

"Did you really?" Curiously, she raised her eyebrows, leaning into the concrete banister as I pulled my carton of cigarettes from my pocket, offering one which she immediately took. "How was it? Is it awkward when you've known each other for so long?"

"Of course it was awkward… This still feels like a bit of a double standard, though."

"Ollie, you're twenty two… not seventeen." She exhaled a puff of smoke while talking, "How old is Enrique, by the way?"

"Twenty three, he's about nine months older than me. Actually, my mama found out she was pregnant with me when meeting him for the first time. She missed her post IVF appointment; accidentally found out on her own."

"If that's not destiny, then I don't know what is."

She had no concerns regarding the information I'd given her about my sex life, something that bothered me for reasons I didn't understand. It was the exact opposite of the conversation my mother had with me, bothering me now for what was the opposite reason. My mother I had wanted to stop talking about it, though. Why did I want Celeste to keep asking me questions?

"He's… good," I mumbled, keeping my head down low. "He knows what he's doing."

"Congratulations," She laughed.

"It makes me insecure."

"God, Oliver, you don't need to be the best at everything, you know."

"I wanted to ask you about something," I explained, flushed face darkening as the feel of humiliation rushed to my ears. "It's embarrassing, though."

"Sounds intriguing, what's up?"

"Have you ever performed oral sex on a guy before?"

Her face lit up, a power holding grin forming from ear to ear as she watched me through excitedly evil eyes. She knew exactly what it was that I really wanted to know.

"Curiosity is getting to you, huh?" She laughed. "Have you never gotten head before?"

"I have," I explained. "I've never given it, though. Do you know how to do it? How to do it well, I mean?"

"Did JP do it to you?"

"No, Enrique did."

"A bi guy who sucks dick. Oliver, I'm not sure you know just how much you've lucked out."

"Shut up," I mumbled, "I want to… return the favor."

"You must really like this guy."

A gentle flutter filled my chest as her words hit, my constant reminder that she was right. I liked him. I really, really liked him.

"Celeste…" I sighed, allowing the tingle to run down my arms and into my fingertips. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. I think about him constantly."

"Your poor right hand," She giggled.

"Shut up,"

"You know I'm only kidding," She gave me a gentle smack on the shoulder, taking a large inhale of her cigarette and holding her breath for a moment, continuing her sentence only after she exhaled. "Do you have anything you can practice on?"

"Nothing that will be going anywhere near my mouth."

"Do you not wash anything after you use it?"

"Of course I do!"

She patted the cigarette out on the concrete rail before holding a hand out to me. I gave an understanding nod, pulling the pack back out of my pocket.

"No," She laughed, "Give me your hand." I obliged with reluctance, unsure how to feel as she gripped her thumbs to my palm and pushed up my pointer finger. "Make eye contact when you take it out of his pants." She explained, "Actually, do it right when you kneel down in front of him, make it clear that you're doing this because you want to; that you've been thinking about it."

Her eyebrows went up in a gentle pouting formation and she stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, licking gently up the front of my finger.

"You're disgusting!" I laughed, pulling quickly away from her. "I should not have to tell you not to put other peoples fingers in your mouth!" I smacked her playfully while she shoved herself into my personal space.

"Oh, so only cute little Italian boys are allowed to share saliva with you!" She cackled, hand on my chest, now mocking my speech mannerisms playfully, "Fottimi la bocca, amore mio."

"I should have known better than to ask you for help," I smiled, giving a gentle shake of the head, not wanting to know if that was the only thing she could say in Italian or how on earth she learned.

"There isn't much to know, Olive Tree, most guys just like knowing that you're into it. Besides, you're the one with the dick, if anything you should be telling me what to do with it. Just pay attention to the way he reacts to you. Most guys like getting their dicks sucked, that's normally enough on it's own."

"This is so embarrassing…" I mumbled, leaning on the banister with my head in my arms.

"We aren't teenagers, Ollie, I'm not sure you realize this, but the fact that you have a sex life is completely normal at this point. You don't have to act so high and mighty all the time."

"I don't act high and mighty."

"You're sitting here acting like it's some deep dark secret that you want to make the guy you care about moan your name. If you wanna give him a blow job then just give him one. Trust me, the idea doesn't stay sexy for very long when you're the one on the giving end of it," She laughed, "He's already been rearranging your organs, you're past the point of newbie."

"Don't say it like that."

"On top of that, you admitted he was good at it."

The heat in my face was radiating, and the only thing that might help was another glass of wine. I wasn't sure what had caused me to tell her everything I'd been feeling, especially when I hadn't even told Enrique. I didn't want him knowing my insecurities this way, and that was if I wanted him knowing them at all. I wasn't ready to give up the role I had written for myself.

"We can't keep our hands off each other when we're alone," I admitted. "We only see each other on weekends, but we make up for it quickly."

"Not too quickly, I hope," She laughed.

What remained to be so unusual to me continued to be no more than living life to those around me, something which caused an internal debate on how much I had been missing out on throughout the years. I had viewed the transition from adolescence to adulthood as something black and white, the idea that days of adventure and figuring out who I was were now behind me. I went to school, I made good grades, I graduated with honors and two degrees… yet I had never felt more like a child as I did in this moment.

It wasn't about me and my life anymore.

It was us… and I wanted to know what the future had in store.