The Sweet Tooth Read online

  Mathieu watched Solomon’s eyes follow the trail his fingers were taking. Solomon’s blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight coming through the sliders. Mathieu thought he’d never seen a more beautiful pair of eyes and probably never would.

  Solomon cupped his free hand behind Mathieu’s head and drew the taller man down into a kiss. Solomon would’ve loved to back the brunette up against the kitchen counter and kiss him into tomorrow (as well as do some other things) but he was able to get himself under control and break-away, “we’re going to have to pick this up when I get home later. Did you call the landlord?”

  Mathieu was a little breathless, “I left a voicemail. I told him he’d be able to find me here. I hope that was okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay. I’m not going to make you sit in the hall until he comes to open your door. I told you, you can stay as long as you like. Make yourself at home. I should be home at the usual time. Want me to pick-up anything?”

  Mathieu was actually hungry but he couldn’t ask Solomon to get him something to eat, come back and then leave again. “No, thank you. I’m sure the landlord won’t be long.”

  “Take my phone in case you have to call him again. Or you can call me if you need something.” Solomon held out the phone. When Mathieu didn’t take it he stepped forward and slipped it into the Irishman’s back pocket. “I’ll see you when I get home.” Mathieu walked Solomon to the door, “do you want my keys too just in case?”

  “I’m sure I won’t be going anywhere. Have a good day at work. Make a lot of people a lot of money.” He smiled, handed the blonde the garbage bag and tipped his head down for a good-bye kiss.

  The work day couldn’t go fast enough for Solomon. All morning he daydreamed about Mathieu’s kisses and thought that he wouldn’t mind waking up to that every day. He chastised himself, ‘don’t get ahead of yourself. He wants to go slow. Don’t jump ahead. I still have to talk to him about his…um…condition..problem..illness..ailment..?’ He reminded himself that he had gotten his foot in the door but there was still a long way to go.

  Solomon finally got the opportunity to call Mathieu at lunch time. He stepped into an unoccupied conference room and dialed his own mobile number. The call was answered on the second ring, the voice on the other end sounded unsure, “hello? Mr Kelly’s phone.”

  “Hey! It’s me. I love the way you answered the phone, very professional. I’ll hire you if I ever need a secretary.” Solomon laughed.

  “You couldn’t afford me. And I prefer the term ‘personal assistant’ if you don’t mind.” Mathieu was so relieved that it wasn’t an important business call for Solomon. “What’s up? Are you calling to check up on me?”

  Solomon wanted to say so many things, ‘I miss you’, ‘do you miss me’, ‘how are you feeling’, ‘I’ve been thinking about your kisses’, but all he asked was, “did the landlord call back?”

  “Yeah, I got back into my place around 9, so things are good. I’ve been working on sketches for a new children’s book illustration but I don’t know how they are turning out.”

  Solomon could hear Mathieu’s frown through the phone, “why? What’s wrong with them?”

  “Umm…I’m having concentration problems and well, umm…” the Irishman sighed, “I’ll have to show you later. You’ll understand then.”

  “Come on. It can’t be that bad. Tell me,” Solomon was intrigued.

  “Solomonnn,” Mathieu drew the name out with a little whine.

  It was the cutest thing Solomon had ever heard, “aww, that’s too cute.” But he let up when he heard Mathieu huff a little, “okay, okay, I should be home around the usual time. I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay. Are you coming over for dinner? It’s sesame chicken with mixed veggies over rice.”

  “I’d love to. See you later, yeah?”

  “Yeah. Bye.”

  ***

  Mathieu heard Solomon coming up the stairs but he didn’t open the door to greet him. He thought he’d let Solomon relax for a while and come over in his own time. He wanted to be a ‘no-pressure-boyfriend’ if that’s what he was, he wasn’t sure. He went back to his sketching, not having any more luck than he did that afternoon.

  Solomon was surprised when Mathieu didn’t come out to meet him. He continued down the hall to his, put down his briefcase and took of his suit jacket. A tiny piece of him began to get worried for Mathieu. Solomon couldn’t hear the younger man moving around his apartment and he had no mobile to call him with. He stepped out onto his balcony but his neighbor’s sliders were closed. Solomon was tempted to climb over the rail but Mathieu’s reaction to the suggestion of that was severe and Solomon didn’t want to chance it (especially if Mathieu was actually alright and saw him do it). Solomon grabbed his keys and went over to knock on his neighbor’s door, “Mathieu?”

  Solomon calmed down when he heard Mathieu shout from inside the apartment, “I’m coming!”

  When the door opened Solomon pulled Mathieu into his arms, “You had me worried.”

  “Why?” Mathieu replied innocently, “I got caught up sketching and I’m just starting dinner. It shouldn’t take long to make the chicken, which is marinating and steam the vegetables. The rice is already in the cooker. And then I was going to come over to see if you were ready.”

  Solomon breathed a sigh of relief, “You didn’t open your door to greet me and I couldn’t hear you moving around and your sliders are closed and I don’t have my mobile to call you….I guess….I…well…I guess I freaked. I was going to….” Solomon stopped himself from mentioning the balcony.

  “I’m okay. See? Everything is fine.” The taller man ran his hands up and down the shorter man’s back to soothe him. Solomon felt so good in his arms, so warm, almost familiar. Mathieu loosened his hold and took half a step back. Golden-brown eyes met worried blue; Mathieu bent his head down and brushed his lips lightly over Deans. “Come on. Help me make dinner.” He took the blonde’s hand and tried to lead him into the kitchen.

  “Show me the sketches first.” Solomon tightened his grip on the hand holding his and halted their steps.

  Mathieu rolled his eyes but agreed. Instead of the kitchen he led Solomon over to the drafting table. He left Solomon there to examine the sketches as he went into the kitchen to start dinner. Solomon looked down and his breath caught. There was one of a little boy sitting with his shoes untied, sucking a thumb and holding a teddy bear. There was one of a little boy pulling a toy wagon with a puppy in it. There was one of a little boy sitting under a tree trying to read a book but the book was upside down. There was one of a little boy wearing rain boots and jumping into a puddle. The last one was of a little boy holding out a coin in one hand and pointing to a missing tooth with the other. The little boy looked like him except, of course, younger. The same shape face, the same wavy hair and the same dimpled cheeks. The sketches were in charcoal the only color on the pages was the blue in the eyes. He picked up two of the sketches, being careful not to smudge them, and brought them to the kitchen. He held the drawings out to Mathieu, “these are amazing.”

  Mathieu beamed at him, “do you really like them? I wasn’t consciously sketching you but every time I finished one and looked at it, there you were. I thought about submitting them for approval but I wanted to ask you first if it was okay. Is it okay?”

  “Is it okay? Are you serious? Wow. I’m so flattered. These are wonderful.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the sketches in his hand.

  “These are rough sketches. I’ll scan them tomorrow and send off to my boss. If she approves them I’ll redo them in water colors for final submission but I’ll let you see them before I send them off to make sure you like them.” He took the sketch of the boy with the teddy bear from Solomon. “this one is my favorite.”

  “I like this one,” Solomon held out the sketch of the boy sitting under the tree reading the upside down book.

  “I thought about adding the puppy to that one. Like the boy was trying to read to him.” Mathi
eu pointed to the side of the boy where there was just enough room to add a puppy.

  “That would be so cute. I wish my mom could see these. She’d absolutely love them.”

  “I can email you the scans and you can send them to her. If you want.” Mathieu handed the teddy bear sketch back to Solomon.

  “Of course I want. Thank you. She’s gonna love them. I love them.” Solomon laid the drawings down and tilted his head up for a kiss. Again, Solomon wanted nothing more than to deepen the kiss and take it even further but Mathieu stepped away with a blush.

  Mathieu took Solomon’s hands, “I can feel your frustration and you have to believe me when I say I’m frustrated too but, I think you know, there are things we need to talk about before I can let things get any more intense. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course I understand and I can wait though it is getting very hard for me to keep my hands off you.” Mathieu blushed as Solomon winked at him.

  “I knew I was right about you; you’re nothing but trouble.” He winked back before he took Solomon’s hand and headed for the kitchen.

  Mathieu showed Solomon the recipe and gathered all the ingredients needed to make the sauce. Solomon measured everything out and stirred them together in a saucepan while the Irishman chopped the vegetables and put them into the steamer. Solomon then added the thickener, cornstarch dissolved in water, and stirred again until the sauce came back to a boil before setting the flame to low. After that Mathieu had him take the marinating chicken out of the fridge and drop the pieces into hot oil. When the pieces were golden brown he removed them with a slotted spoon and set them on paper towels to drain. He added the remaining chicken pieces to the oil and waited for them to brown. While Solomon waited Mathieu plated up some rice and vegetables. Once the rest of the chicken was done Mathieu let Solomon add it to the plates and spoon some sauce over the servings and carried the plates to the dining table. Mathieu poured himself some Sauvignon Blanc and retrieved a beer out of the fridge for Solomon.

  Solomon let Mathieu set the pace for conversation over dinner but the blonde could tell that his friend’s mind was elsewhere, more than likely on the conversation that was to come. They complimented each other on the dinner and talked about Solomon’s day and Mathieu’s interaction with the landlord, about Mathieu’s art and Solomon’s extensive DVD collection. Solomon was just about finished when he asked, “am I going to be hungry again in an hour?”

  The tension in Mathieu eased as he laughed, “I’ve never had the problem. Have you?”

  “No,” Solomon confessed, “not really. I thought it would make you laugh. I can see you’re stressed. You have a very nice laugh, by the way.”

  Mathieu blushed but didn’t look away, “thank you. We can have dessert and talk in the living room if you’d like.”

  “I’d like. What’s for dessert?”

  “Strawberries with fresh, whipped, heavy cream.”

  Solomon narrowed his eyes at his friend, “Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m getting the feeling that you like strawberries.”

  “I love them!” Without warning Solomon found himself on the receiving end of an enthusiastic embrace and kiss. Mathieu quickly withdrew, “sorry. I really love strawberries.”

  Solomon caught his breath, “you don’t ever have to apologize for liking strawberries or kissing me. In fact, if that’s what I get for just mentioning strawberries, I’ll bring you baskets of them, every day!”

  CHAPTER 10

  The dessert dishes and empty mugs remained on the coffee table while the two men sat on the sofa, each in his own corner facing the other. Solomon wanted to bring up the research he had done on psychiatrists but they were having such a comfortable time he didn’t want to upset everything. He held out his arms and Mathieu snuggled into him, “this is nice.”

  “Mm hm, it is,” Mathieu replied with just a hint of sleepiness in his voice. “Solomon?”

  “Yes?”

  “What are you going to do with all those photos your mom sent?”

  Solomon hadn’t thought about them in a few days, he just put them all back in the box and slid it under his bed, “Oh, um, I don’t know. I guess I should pull out the best ones and put them in an album, shouldn’t I?”

  Mathieu doodled abstract patterns into Solomon’s shirt with his finger, “you can do that but I was thinking of something else.”

  When Mathieu didn’t expand on his idea Solomon asked, “Is it a secret or are you going to tell me?”

  The artist chuckled, “It’s a secret. Can I have the box?”

  “Just the box or do you want the pictures too?” Solomon teased.

  “Funny.”

  “I thought so. I’ll drop them off tomorrow morning. Is that soon enough or do you want them now?”

  “Tomorrow is fine. I’m not moving from this spot until absolutely necessary.” Mathieu snuggled tighter into Solomon’s side.

  The two men settled into a comfortable silence. Solomon ran his hands along Mathieu’s arm and side. Mathieu listened to Solomon’s strong, steady heartbeat and continued drawing patterns with his finger. After a short while Solomon felt Mathieu making shaking and nodding motions with his head like he was having an internal argument with himself. “Everything okay, Matt?”

  Mathieu nodded again, “I want to tell you about me. It isn’t going to be easy for me so I hope you understand if I can’t get it all out tonight.” All traces of sleepiness were gone from his voice.

  Solomon stopped moving his hand, “You don’t have to.” Solomon wanted Mathieu to open up to him more than anything but at that moment he never wanted to hear Mathieu suffering or in pain or unhappy in any way especially if he could help it.

  Mathieu climbed off Solomon and sat up, “I do. I want you to know me. It’s important. I’ll run through as much as I can.” Solomon nodded and Mathieu continued, “My first attack was in 2010, I was 22. I was out shopping for Christmas with some mates. There was a street fair a few blocks down. At first it was really nice, the weather was good and you could really feel the Christmas spirit, you know?” Solomon nodded again; Mathieu closed his eyes, picturing the scene in his head, “After about half an hour I started to think that it was too crowded and loud, I felt really warm but unbuttoning my coat didn’t help, I was sweating and lightheaded. There was a band busking on the corner and people were cheering and clapping and pushing to get closer. I couldn’t see my mates anywhere. I was trying to find them when I got caught up in a crowd outside a shop, I felt dizzy and couldn’t breathe and I wanted to get away. The next thing I knew I woke up on the sidewalk and everyone was staring down at me even the music had stopped. I was so embarrassed. One of my mates found me and helped me back here.” Mathieu, eyes still closed, reached his hand out for Solomon who took it in his. He felt light-headed and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

  “Hey, open your eyes and look at me.” Solomon sat up himself and cupped the brunette’s face in his other hand. “Come on. You can do it. Look in my eyes. You’re safe with me.”

  Mathieu opened his eyes and slowly focused on the blue eyes of the man in front of him, “I was so afraid. I had no idea what happened to me.” He let his eyes fall as his breathing returned to normal and he fell forward to rest his head on Solomon’s chest.

  Solomon let the falling motion continue until they were lying on the sofa again with Mathieu resting on top of him. He ran his hands up and down the younger man’s back, “you alright? Do you need to go lie down?”

  “No, I’m fine. Do you have any questions about my first time?” Mathieu chuckled quietly; trying to lighten the mood.

  “I see what you did there, very cute, you’re ‘first time’. I’ve done some research on panic attacks so I know a little about what happened with you. I have no questions about your ‘first time’.” Solomon would save his questions for later. He wanted to let Mathieu tell his story in his own time. If he thought of any new questions he would add them to the ones he’d already written down. “Do
you feel like you can continue or do you want to stop now?”

  The Irishman considered for a minute before he answered, “I want to go on. I didn’t know what had happened to me so I kinda wrote it off as a one-time thing. I thought that maybe I was dehydrated or had needed something to eat and just passed out. I even went back to the fair the next weekend to see if it would happen again but it didn’t. I almost forgot it had even happened at all then on 6 February 2011 it happened again.” He paused and felt Solomon deepen the touch on his back so it was more like a massage. “Mmm, that feels so nice.” He lifted his head to give Solomon a chaste kiss, “thank you.”

  “You don’t have to keep going.” Solomon wanted to hear the story but something inside him told him that Mathieu’s past didn’t matter anymore. He wanted Mathieu to be safe and to keep him that way.

  “I have to tell you. You need to know what you’re getting into if you decide you want to try and have a relationship with me.” Mathieu stole another kiss.

  “I would already call this a relationship,” with the tips of his fingers under Mathieu’s chin Solomon drew him in for a deep kiss. When they parted he said, “But I’ll listen if you’re sure you want to tell.”

  “I’m sure.” Mathieu paused and took a deep, cleansing breath. “I was on my way to work. There had been a problem up the line and the tube station was packed. Even though it was cold on the street the station was oppressively hot. Everyone was crowding and pushing and complaining about the delay. I remember getting the same feelings I had at the market; lightheaded and short of breath and the feeling that I had to get away. I tried to get out of the station but there were too many people and I was too far from the exit. When I went down I hit my head on something and I was bleeding. Everyone was looking at me and I couldn’t get up. I heard somebody say that they had called for an ambulance and then I passed out again. The next time I woke up I was in hospital. I had seven stitches in my head and an I.V. in my arm. They asked me if I had been drinking and if it had happened before and I said no. I know I shouldn’t have lied about the time before but I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to look at me. I kept my head down and didn’t make eye contact. I just wanted to crawl under the blankets and hide. I felt like every nurse or doctor who came in to see me knew that I had lied or they thought I was drunk or on drugs.” Mathieu’s voice was cracking and he was trembling slightly.