They went through the ritual of pouring tea, Cameron eager to continue their conversation, because something else had been troubling him as of late. Once they were seated across from each other, and after he had taken a bite and praised the chef, he asked, “How long did it take for you and Lover Boy to get to know each other?”
“In the Biblical sense?” Charles asked, looking uncomfortable.
“No!” Cameron said with a mad chuckle. “Just in the normal way.”
Charles raised his eyebrows, as if it was difficult to calculate. “Years and years. In fact, he still manages to surprise me. I’ll learn a little detail about his life I never knew, or he’ll share an unexpected opinion. That’s part of what keeps it interesting.”
“What about secrets?” Cameron swallowed before continuing. “Anthony still doesn’t know how much my mom drinks.”
“Ah. That all comes down to trust, which has to be built at a speed comfortable to you both. There is no right time. Only what works for you personally. That having been said, I can’t imagine Anthony mocking your mother, or being anything other than supportive.”
“For sure,” Cameron said, “but first, I want him to love her as much as I do. I don’t want him to see an alcoholic every time he looks at her.”
“Then wait until he’s seen your mother at her best a few more times.” Charles took a sip of tea. “You know, I used to have a drinking problem.”
“You did?”
Charles nodded. “Ages ago. In another life. I was still struggling to accept myself while numbing the pain with a bottle of gin. I only went to a support group when someone terribly handsome invited me, but that’s where I found the help I’d needed all along.”
“I’ve told my mom to go to Alcoholics Anonymous,” Cameron said. “She laughed it off.”
“But have you asked her to go? After telling her why it’s so important to you? Imagine if she’d given up the first time you were supposed to clean your room.”
Cameron laughed. “Speaking of which,” he said, nodding at the bright blue table. “I don’t know what that’s doing there, but I’m happy to move it somewhere else. Preferably out of sight.”
“Isn’t it an eyesore?” Charles said while crinkling his nose. “I found it at a thrift store earlier this week and couldn’t believe my luck. A treasure lurks beneath the surface.”
“Really?” Cameron asked in open curiosity. “You told me you had news.”
“Yes! Come see.”
Soon they were squatting next to the table, which was three feet long and two feet wide with a single drawer. The cut favored curves and wavy edges except for the tapered legs.
“French Provencial,” Charles said. “In style if not pedigree. I was hoping you could help me identify the wood.”
Cameron raised an eyebrow at this. Charles had a keener eye than his own, so he was most likely being tested. Or enticed. He turned the table over, taking note of the heft, and found an area where the natural grain could still be seen. “American Elm?” he wagered. “This is an old one.”
“My thoughts exactly. How much would you charge for a restoration?”
“For you? Nothing.”
“Not for me,” Charles said. “For a business.”
“It’ll be a lot of work,” Cameron said before shrugging. “Maybe a hundred?”
“As much as I love a bargain,” Charles said as he stood, “I could never take advantage of a friend. I spent twenty dollars on the table and intend to sell it for much much more than that. How does two hundred and fifty sound?”
Cameron stared. “Incredible! But you said this is for a business.”
“It is,” Charles said with a twinkle in his eye. “My own.”
Cameron shot to his feet. “You’re finally doing it? You’re opening your own store?” He had dabbled as a dealer previously, even renting a booth at an antique mall briefly, but not while they had known each other.
“At long last,” Charles confirmed with a nod. “Can you imagine? Me as a business owner?”
“Yes!” Cameron said, because he’d often fantasized about that very thing. And practically begged for it to happen. Charles always dismissed the idea as a gamble. “What changed your mind?”
“A little place became available down on Main Street, and I’m not getting any younger, so I thought it was high time to chase after old dreams. Although I will need your help.”
“Want me to work the register?”
“No, silly! I need steady inventory, and there isn’t much profit in buying and reselling antiques that are in top condition. But with your help, and quite a lot of elbow grease, I can make the shop a success while contributing toward your college fund.”
“I’m in,” Cameron said.
“Feel free to think about it,” Charles said, waving away his commitment.
“Okay. Hmm. Let’s see…” Cameron rubbed his chin and scrunched up his face like he was deep in thought, his expression becoming more exaggerated by the second.
“Easy now,” Charles said, “You’ll pull a muscle.”
Cameron dropped the act. “I’m in,” he insisted. “Whether you like it or not. I know this is your dream, but it’s practically mine as well.”
“Wonderful!” Charles looked toward the living room. “And now the bad news. Lover Boy made me promise to clear out a bit. He’s stubbed his toe one too many times when navigating the living room at night, so some of it has to go. Would you like to help me choose?”
Cameron pretended to swoon, Charles reaching out to grab his arms. He used the opportunity to hug his friend. Then he grinned. “Let’s get started!”
— — —
Ricky felt like his entire body was going to explode. In a good way. He forced himself to pull back. In the dim light of the car interior, Diego’s handsome face smirked at him before coming in for another kiss.
“Enough!” Ricky said, pushing him away with a grin. “We’ve made out so much that my lips are raw!”
“Good,” Diego murmured. “You need to build up endurance so I can really wreck your mouth. With my cock.”
Ricky laughed. “I better buy some ChapStick.”
“If that’s the only thing holding you back, I’ll drive you to the store.”
Ricky checked the clock. He still had another half hour before curfew, but he wanted to show his parents that he could be responsible. “I better get inside,” he said. “But I am ready.”
“So you keep telling me,” Diego grumbled. “And here I am, about to tear a hole through my jeans.”
“For real,” Ricky said, glancing down.
“Yeah, so name the time and the place.”
“This weekend,” he replied. “Anywhere that we won’t be interrupted.”
Diego nodded. “Come spend the night with me.”
Ricky sat up. “At your place?”
His boyfriend seemed to reconsider. “As long as you don’t mind crashing in my dad’s old office. My mom never goes in there.”