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He’s still catching his breath. Looking up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes like he’s seeing stars.
“I’m gonna owe you so many orgasms when you get the all clear.” He pants.
“You don’t owe me shit.” I laugh. “I like making you come.”
He turns his head and looks at me. “One more day?”
“Yeah, one more day.”
21
STEFANOS
It’s not one more day.
When Alexei sees the doctor, she tells him he needs to lay off physical activity for at least another week.
Feeling bad about him giving me blow jobs, (and me giving him nothing in return save blue balls), we mostly cuddle in his bed and when he starts getting back to some gentle practice, he’s tired and falls asleep really quickly.
I don’t want him in my room again before I figure out a way to tell him I’m horror boy. Yes, it sucks lying to him. But if I come out with it now, it could ruin everything. So I get acquainted with his bed. The striped bedding I recognize now from his pictures. Everything becoming so obvious, to the point where I start to think maybe he knows too and he’s just pretending like I am. If that was the case, things would be so much easier. That’s why Meg wasn’t mad at Tom right? Because she kinda knew for a while herself. But if he has no idea at all, then it’s going to feel like a huge betrayal.
The dayafter Alexei returns to practice, the team play Harvard in an important game. I’m still not 100% certain why it’simportant. Alexei tried to explain the ECAC and standings and points and play-offs to me, and I was listening. But it was like calculus. It made sense to a point, but I had a hard time placing it in context. (I may be a music nerd, but I never said I was STEM smart). All I know, is that it’s important. He’s only just got back to practice and now he has to captain the team in a game that means something big.
I cook Baba’s keftedes – or a version of them at least – for when Alexei gets back from his first practice. He loved the beef and radish soup, and when Alice heard I’d made it for him, she grinned at me like a proud parent. But I also know he loved my dad’s cooking, and it means something to me to share that with someone, the way it meant something for Alice to share her mom’s comfort food with me.
I’m nervous about what mood he’ll be in when he walks through the door. Even if he tries to hide his disappointment or anger, or whatever negative emotion he may be feeling, I’ll be able to tell something is wrong.
He puts his key in the door just as I’m turning the heat down on the meatballs.
“Something smells good in here.” He says.
He looks alert and… happy? Or is that just nervous energy?
“It’s Baba’s keftedes, or my version anyway.”
He crosses the room and puts his arms around me. He smells a little different. Maybe because he hasn’t been cooped up in the house today.
“How was practice?”
“It was so good to be back doing something.”
He pulls away and looks down into my face. “Not that I didn’t love hanging out here with you.”
“I know, shush.” I slap my hand over his mouth and I can tell he’s smiling by how his eyes crinkle.
“Dinner’s ready now, are you hungry?”
“Yes. You need to stop taking care of me so well.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t think you’ll ever take it for granted.”
“No, you’re right, I won’t.”
I feel like Baba, watching him eat my food and zeroing in on the most miniscule reactions. “Mm, this is really good, just like your dad’s.”