Chapter 6
Over the next four weeks, we saw each other almost constantly. When I wasn't working, I stayed at his place.
He'd been to my house a few times, but considering it was likely any of the guys I worked with could just turn up uninvited, we opted to stay at his place. We'd spend daylight hours talking and laughing and nighttime hours exploring each other's bodies. We kept our boxing sessions as per normal. The guys from work liked him, and treated him like one of the boys.
No one suspected a thing.
Mitch knew something was different. I was happier, he said. He'd catch me smiling, and he'd call me on it. He presumed, like they all did, it was a woman behind my newfound happiness, but I admitted to nothing.
I didn't deny or confirm Mitch's suspicions, which according to him, confirmed his suspicions.
He'd been my partner for two years, so of course he'd notice. But he also knew I was a private guy, so thankfully he didn't push me on it. I most certainly didn't bring it up.
But he commented on how ' she' must be someone special, because he'd never seen me so happy.
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And apart from the ' she' distinction, he was very fucking right. I'd never been so happy.
It was a very lazy Sunday morning in bed—we'd
been together for four weeks— and I told Kira how Mitch could see how happy I was. I explained how he kept making 'she' comments about the presumed female reason behind my smile.
"He says he knows I'm seeing someone because of how much easier I am to get along with."
Kira smiled, and as he traced his fingers along my jaw, he said, "You mean, you're less sexually frustrated."
I laughed and nodded. "That too."
He hooked his leg over mine. "It has nothing to do with how your dreamy boyfriend cooks you dinner or puts up with your crap taste in movies."
Dreamy boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
We'd not used labels before. "Boyfriend, huh?"
For the first time, I saw doubt in his eyes. Normally so confident and forthright, he swallowed and nodded.
With hesitation and hope in his eyes, he said, "Well, I um… kinda thought…"
I smiled as I pulled his arm so he slid on top of me, and I hooked my legs around his thighs. "Well, boyfriend,"
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I said with a smile in my voice, "why don't you fuck me like a boyfriend should?"
He chuckled into my neck, playfully biting me, nipping and kissing all the skin he could reach. When he finally, finally pushed inside of me, his hands gripped me as he buried himself, so deep, so right. His fingers dug into my skin as he held me too tightly, but still not tight enough.
His lips and his tongue were fucking my mouth while he fucked my ass with his dick, and he consumed all of me.
He pushed my legs higher, almost folding me in half, and every inch of him was buried inside me. He rocked and ground his hips, drilling me deeper and deeper, and I held his face between my hands. I whispered against his lips, "You feel so good inside me."
He grunted and shuddered, his whole body
convulsing as he stilled over me, inside me, filling the condom again and again.
When he led me into the bathroom and into the
shower, Kira declared one orgasm between us was not enough. He dropped to his knees in front of me, and I held onto the walls at my sides. As the warm water washed over my head, he cupped my balls in one hand and pumped my shaft in the other while he sucked on the head.
Except I took my hands off the walls to grip his hair as my cock erupted in his throat, and we overbalanced, or
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fell, or slid, or something, because we ended up on the floor in the shower, a jumbled mess of limbs and laughter.
We were still chuckling as we made it to the kitchen to find something to eat when there was a knock at the door.
I froze.
Just like that, this perfect little bubble I'd lived in for the last four weeks burst. I couldn't be seen here. There was no explanation I could give to justify why I was there.
"Expecting someone?"
Kira looked at me, and he could tell I was worried.
Then a female voice says, "Kira! You home?"
Kira groaned. "It's just my mom."
Oh.
His mom.
Did boyfriends meet moms? I guess they did.
Well, I guessed I was about to.
Kira disappeared, and by the time I got to the kitchen door, in barreled a tiny, Japanese woman. She had straight, jet black hair to her shoulders, and she was letting Kira have it. She pointed her finger up at him. "You haven't called us or come to see us in weeks!" Then she threw up her hands and spoke in broken Japanese-English. "What for? Why you not call me?"
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Kira looked at me, trying not to smile. "Ah, Mom, I'd like you to meet Matthew Elliott," he said. Then he grinned. "My boyfriend. Matt, this is my mother, Yumi."
Yumi turned to look at me. "Oh," she said quietly.
"Oh, you the boy off the television."
I crossed the room and extended my hand to her.
"Nice to meet you."
She took my hand in a small, but firm grip. "So, you're the reason why my Kira disappear for four weeks?"
"Um…"
Kira interrupted, saving me. "Mom, where's Dad?"
"He park the car. I came up to see if you are still alive. Could have been dead for all I know."
Kira grinned and rolled his eyes. "It's okay, Mom.
I've been in very safe hands." Then he leaned in and whispered to her, "Matt's a policeman."
Oh, my God.
I couldn't believe he just said that.
Yumi swatted her son's arm. "Don't want details."
Kira laughed, and Yumi shook her head at him.
"Why you not call me to tell me you got a boyfriend?"
He didn't answer her question, but pacified her with a hug instead. She grumbled at him, but she smiled just as there was another knock at the door. Kira went to the front door and came back with a man who could only be his
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father. I knew where Kira got his height from. The man who walked in was tall, about six foot three, dark hair, olive skin.
"Matt, this is my dad, Salvidore Franco. We call him Sal," Kira explained, but then quickly moved his hands, and I realized a little belatedly, he was signing.
Kira's father was deaf.
I shook his hand, mumbled my hellos, completely unprepared to be meeting the parents. I don't think I'd ever
'met the parents' before. It was a little daunting.
Kira's father, Sal, quickly signed something to which Yumi laughed, and Kira grinned at me. "My dad says you look taller on TV."
I think I snorted, and I could feel my face heat with embarrassment as the three of them looked at me and smiled.
Over the next two hours, I came to realize Kira's family was very close, very open about everything, and very, very funny.
I knew now why Kira was always smiling, because his mom and dad were too.
Yumi, all of five feet tall, still nagged Kira about being so distracted and for at least not calling to let them know he was okay. Then she turned on me, making me promise to make him call.
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I quickly deduced Sal read lips, because they didn't sign everything they said, but when Sal had something to say, Kira translated the sign language for me. Sal told me when Kira didn't at least phone his mother, he was the one who suffered. Sal grinned, Kira laughed, and Yumi scowled at them both.
Yumi talked almost nonstop, making up for the fact that Sal didn't say a word. I liked them. They were very familial, and it was obvious they adored their son. We were invited for lunch the next weekend, and when I explained my job wasn't exactly Monday to Friday, Yumi simply clicked her tongue. "Then you come for dinner through the week."
She was a tenacious little thing, and while it was obvious Kira got his height and looks from his dad, he got the 'take no crap' kickboxing attitude from his mother.
Early afternoon soon became late afternoon, and just as Yumi suggested dinner, my phone beeped.
"It's work. I gotta go in," I told them, reading the message.
"More bad guys?" Kira asked.
I nodded. "There's always more bad guys."
I wasn't really ready for this weekend to be over, but I had to bid them farewell regardless. I shook Sal's hand and told Yumi I promised to keep Kira in line.
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Kira laughed and kissed me, right on the lips, right in front of them.
Before I had time to be embarrassed, Yumi grinned up at her son. "I like him."
Kira looked at me and smiled. "I'm rather fond of him, too."
I grinned all the way to my place to get changed.
Then I grinned all the way to work. Not that I'd told Kira how I felt, but if by 'fond of' he meant can't-stop-thinking-about, or wanted-to-spend-all-my-time-with, or completely-besotted-with, then yes, I was rather fond of him too.
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