THIRTY
Leo watched as Roman jumped in the air to catch the Frisbee. His shirt lifted, showing his taut abs as he stretched, the blue disc still flying over his fingers.
“Who taught you how to throw?” Roman called out to him before laughing. The look was pure joy, something Leo has only ever seen from Roman when they locked themselves away together as teens.
“Who taught you to catch?” Leo yelled back at him even though he knew his throw had been too high. He was surprised when Roman flipped him off before jogging over to where the Frisbee landed.
He picked it up and then threw it perfectly so Leo hardly had to move at all to catch it. His eyes lit up so brightly, Leo could see them even across the space that separated them. His lips pulled into another smile just as Leo called out, “Bastard,” and shook his head.
They threw the Frisbee back and forth for a good while, laughing and teasing each other the whole time. Eventually they put it down with the blanket and bags before pulling their shoes and socks off and making their way down to the lake.
The park was getting busier now, more and more people out enjoying the California sun.
He wondered what Roman would do if he reached out and grabbed his hand. If he kissed him. Public displays of affection weren’t typically Leo’s thing, but after growing up the way he did, he felt a deep need not to hide who he was, especially when it came to Roman. They hadn’t had that before, and if they moved forward, they deserved it now.
He shook his head, unable to believe he was even thinking that way. Being in a relationship was never something Leo wanted—not for the past twelve years. But then, things had always been passionate when it came to Roman.
“You used to hate water, didn’t you?” Roman asked him as they stood with their feet in the lake.
“Yep. Still not real fond of it. As long as I don’t go past my knees, I know I’m okay.” Leo nudged his arm.
“Aww. Are you afraid of water? I thought you just didn’t like it.”
“Hell yes, I am! I used to have dreams about drowning when I was a kid. I took that as a sign that water and I weren’t supposed to mix.”
“So you believe in curses and bad omens. I never knew.” Roman kicked, making water spray out.
“I do…or I did. When we were kids, I was so fucking happy for the first time in my life. I felt like I could be myself for the first time. I just… Right before everything went to hell, I had a bad feeling. I know it sounds crazy…” And honestly he couldn’t believe he was admitting it, but he was going to. “When everything went to shit—when you stopped talking to me and before we met up for that last time, I wondered if my dad had somehow found out…like maybe he’d been jealous of me because I was happy and he wasn’t, or that he just didn’t want me to be happy. I remember hearing Mom talk about the malocchio, and I thought he’d put it on me.” Even to his own ears, that sounded ridiculous. He didn’t believe that now, but at sixteen, he had.
Roman turned to him, squinted his eyes. “The evil eye?”
“Yeah. I looked up the prayer for it and performed it, but of course, nothing changed. I read that you’re supposed to be taught the prayer on Christmas Eve. I wasn’t, but I used that for an excuse as to why it didn’t work. I was looking for any excuse I could find.” The second he finished speaking, he wished he hadn’t. The happiness that had brightened Roman’s face now dimmed again.
“Don’t frown.” Without thinking, Leo reached up, cupped Roman’s face, used his thumb to tease the corner of his mouth to try to get him to smile. Leo had fucked a lot. He’d sucked off men in the bathrooms of clubs, had threesomes, moresomes, fucked men when he didn’t even know their names, but this moment right here, touching Roman’s face while they stood in the lake, was the most intimate moment of his life.
This was all new for Roman, but in some ways it was new for Leo too, because he’d never had any kind of emotion behind sex—or hell, just touching—before. Not since he was sixteen, at least.
He went to lower his hand, but Roman grabbed on. Held his wrist tightly. “Don’t…” he whispered. And then he turned toward Leo’s hand, kissed his palm, nuzzled it, in front of everyone there. He knew this was a big deal for Roman, it had to be, so Leo held his breath and let Roman lead them.
He turned into Leo’s hand again and kissed it, touched it with his own, and then he let go. Leo let his hand slide to the back of Roman’s neck, run through the soft hair at the base of his head.
When he did, Roman stepped forward. He found the same spot, his spot on the back of Leo’s neck, and held it. His lips pressed softly to Leo’s. It was a tentative kiss, and as much as Leo wanted to take over, as much as he wanted to push his tongue into Roman’s mouth and let him see how hungry Leo was for him, he held off, let Roman work himself into it, which he slowly did. It took a moment for him to really loosen up, for his lips to go pliant.
As soon as Roman got his bearings, he was kissing Leo harder, deeper. His tongue took over Leo’s mouth, and it was confidence and hunger and every fucking thing that Leo enjoyed about kissing, only somehow it was even more powerful. More intense because it was with Roman.
The thought made Leo mentally stumble because here he was, feeling things and thinking things he never expected to feel or think. What was this connection between them? How had it been so damn powerful when they were kids? And now, it was almost like they just continued where they left off. Last night he was just thinking that he wasn’t sure Roman would be ready for more, and now a fucking kiss nearly brought him to his knees.
It was Roman who pulled back first. There was a flash of fear in his eyes. His pupils dilated, and his muscles tightened beneath Leo’s hands. He’d kissed a man in public for the first time in his life. A million things had to be going through his head, especially with his past.
Leo wanted to wipe the fear away, wanted Roman to revel in who he was and what he’d done, so he said, “You can fucking kiss. You’ve learned a whole hell of a lot since we were kids.”
Roman’s eyes darted left, then right. No one said a word. People continued on with whatever they were doing, and Leo could feel the tension ease from the other man. He couldn’t imagine the fear Roman lived with. Yes, Leo had some, most LGBTQ people did even if they lived in a diverse city like Los Angeles. Assholes were everywhere. But it hadn’t seeped into his bones, imprinted on him the way it did Roman because of what happened to him.
How did someone ever get past that? He wasn’t fool enough to believe it would happen overnight.
“I don’t want to stop kissing you now,” Roman whispered.
Leo shrugged, smiled. “Then don’t.” Was it the right thing to say? Should they slow down? He didn’t know. All he knew was he felt good. Roman looked like he felt good too, and he wanted to hold on to that.
They kissed again, slower, sweeter this time before heading back to their supplies. They laid out the blanket, had lunch, talked, got to know each other again, before Roman’s lips found his for the third time that day.
They were wrapped up in each other again, went from zero to sixty faster than maybe they should have, but Leo knew there was no turning back now.