Soundbyte 2: At Last

Notes: Choriatiki salata is a Village salad or Greek Salad. Stifado is stew made with lots of small onions, tomatoes and either rabbit, lamb, or octopus. Gaia is bottled retsina. Gail beta'd. This is for her, to commemorate the third anniversary of our friendship. And for Michael Douglas and A Perfect Murder, without whom we wouldn't have met.

At Last
By Tinnean

The key was already out of my pocket and in my hand as I trotted up the stairs to the third floor apartment I shared with my lover. I inserted it into the lock and let myself in.

"I'm home, babe." For the last few months I'd been living with Theo Bascopolis. "Some asshole parked in my spot again. I think I'm going to lie in wait, find out who it is, and do him a grievous hurt!"

Laughter floated from the kitchen in response. "Hotshot tough guy!"

His laughter made me happy. I'd always had an upbeat disposition, but I found that it didn't take much these days to make me smile.

"What smells so good?" Whatever it was, it beat hell out of frozen dinners or take-out.

"Stifado," he called.

"What?"

"Stifado. It's lamb stew, babe."

"Ah. We're going Greek tonight."

"I didn't hear that!" he sing-songed. "I could have made it with octopus, you know."

"Theo, I love you, but not even for you will I eat octopus."

"I know, babe. That's why it's lamb."

I grinned and set my briefcase down beside a table by the front door. Theo left my mail stacked there for when I got home. I picked up the pile of envelopes. MasterCard and American Express each wanted to give me unlimited credit at a very decent annual percentage rate. The American Humane Society wanted a contribution. Jerry's Kids were gearing up for their annual Labor Day telethon.

I heard the footsteps coming up behind me but pretended I didn't, and continued rifling through my mail. Long fingers loosened my tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons of my tailored shirt, and tugged the collar down. His lips were warm as they caressed the side of my throat, and I tipped my chin up and to the side so he had better access to that spot where blood beat heavily just below the surface.

The fingers of my lover's other hand slid down and cupped my arousal. He hummed in pleasure. "Nice to see my talents are appreciated," he murmured against my neck. Until recently he'd been a rentboy, but he'd given the life up. Because I'd asked him to.

"You have a very talented mouth, Theo, and I would be an ungrateful son of a bitch if I didn't let you know how much I enjoy what you can do with it."

I was thinking of the wake-up call he'd given me that morning, his lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me to a mind-blowing orgasm, while a finger slid into my ass and relentlessly rubbed against my prostate. As I'd struggled to catch my breath, he'd straddled my hips and closed my hands around his cock. He'd leaned back, balancing his weight on his hands, and offered himself to me, and I'd stroked him to climax. Hot semen covered my chest, and he sagged bonelessly against my legs. Idly I massaged his come into my skin, paying particular attention to my nipples. He'd grabbed my hand and sucked my fingers into his mouth, then ran his tongue over each nipple, making me shudder.

I'd never enjoyed anything so much as waking up with Theo. Well, except maybe dancing with him.

"Anything of interest, babe?" he asked now, nodding toward the envelopes in my hand, which had gotten crumpled when I'd closed my fingers around them.

"Junk," I told him succinctly. "You can open my mail, you know." Nothing business-related would come to my home address, so he wouldn't be endangered by reading something he shouldn't, and I didn't mind if he read anything from Jill, my stepmother, or Marti, my little sister. J.R., my younger brother, turned his nose up at snail mail, and contacted me via email whenever he felt the need.

Theo shook his head and stepped back. "You have time for a shower. I have to finish setting the table and make the choriatiki salata." He avoided my eyes, and I realized he'd become very tense.

"What's up?"

"You mean besides your dick?"

"Let's leave my dick out of this. I've been living with you long enough to know when something's bothering you."

I thought for a second he would shut me out, try to brush it off as just my imagination, but before I could tell him that, alright, my feelings were officially hurt, he sighed and came back to me.

"I got a phone call today." He slid his arms through my suit jacket and around my waist, and held on. I ran my hands soothingly up and down his back.

"Oh? A pushy john? Want me to beat the shit out of him?" The number of former clients calling to arrange a 'date' had dwindled, but a few more persistent ones seemed reluctant to accept the fact that my lover was no longer in the business. I trusted Theo, but I didn't want him bothered.

"Be serious, would you?" He leaned back and studied my eyes. "It was my sister, Acacia."

"Acacia?" I repeated cautiously. I knew she was the only member of his family who had kept in touch with him over the years, albeit sporadically. He never told me if he had contacted her or if she had somehow tracked him down. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't say over the phone." He turned to go back into the kitchen, and I was right behind him. "She's? uh? she's in town."

I paused in the formal dining room, looking over the table. We usually ate dinner there on the days I'd be home for dinner, and Theo always made sure everything looked nice. This time he'd outdone himself.

The Irish lace tablecloth, a gift from my parents, covered the oval table. There were three place settings of Theo's good china and the sterling silver flatware. The centerpiece was an arrangement of pink roses in a translucent vase and some other pink flowers that I didn't recognize, and on either end were tall, cream-colored candles waiting to be lit.

I walked into the kitchen. "She's coming over for dinner?"

Theo nodded, took down a pair of wine glasses and set them on the counter, and reached for a third, holding it up and glancing at me. "I got a bottle of retsina, but there's beer if you'd rather."

"No, I'll try the retsina."

He went to the stove, picked up the large, wooden spoon that was beside the pot, and stirred the contents desultorily. The rich fragrance, a blend of onions and lamb, filled the kitchen.

"She wants to talk to me about Poppa." He sighed and met my eyes. "I told her okay."

"Fuck."

The older Bascopolis had been the inadvertent reason my lover had become a rentboy. When he had learned his son's sexual orientation, he'd ordered him to stop being gay or leave. Theo had left, to fall into the hands of a chicken hawk. The bastard abused him until Theo fought back and killed him, or so he thought. Panic-stricken, he'd run to DC and had an encounter with some rentboys. Tim, the leader of the stable, took him in, and Theo not only survived but thrived, proving to be one of the few 'lucky' ones.

I'd stopped in his home town of Tarpon Springs on the way home from a job a few months before and had arranged a meeting with the chicken hawk. He wouldn't be preying on fifteen-year-old boys any more.

"What does she know about me?" There was such distance between Theo and his family that I'd never given any thought to their reaction to me as his lover. If he wanted me to pretend to be nothing more than a dinner guest, I'd need to know so I could act accordingly.

"She knows you live here, but I didn't come right out and tell her we're lovers. I didn't see any need to spell out the details."

"Are you sure you want me here tonight?"

"I want you to meet her."

"Yeah, but will *she* want to meet me? What's she going to think when she realizes we're more than just roommates?"

His expression became stubborn. "That's her problem, babe."

I ran a hand through my hair. "When is she showing up?"

He looked up at the clock above the stove. "In about half an hour. Don't you want to meet her?" It sounded as if it was his turn to have officially hurt feelings.

Fuck. I really didn't think this was a good idea. If she looked down her nose at Theo for having a male lover, I'd wind up doing something snarky, like maybe removing her adenoids with a grapefruit spoon.

Still, this was important to Theo. He had gone up to Massachusetts to meet my family, willing to brave my father's reaction to his first born's revelation of gaydom, and it was only fair that I do the same.

"Okay, if it's just for dinner, I can deal. I'll grab a shower and? " I went very still as another thought occurred to me. "Do you want her to spend the night here, Theo? I wouldn't mind," I lied.

He was shaking his head, and I let out the breath I suddenly realized I'd been holding.

But I felt I had to offer at least a token protest. "This is your apartment. She's your family. She can sleep in one of the spare bedrooms. For that matter, so? uh? so could I." I'd gotten out of the habit of sleeping alone, but I'd do it if that was what he wanted. I wouldn't be happy about it, but I'd do it.

"Wills, this is your apartment, too." He looked as if he was debating adding something else, then seemed to make up his mind. "And you're my family, too."

After hearing something like that, I did the only thing I could think of. I pounced on him and kissed him silly, rubbing myself all over him like one of the cats Jill bred. When I let him go, he was much more relaxed.

"Hurry up and shower, Wills. And wear something nice, okay?"

Almost giddy in the aftermath of that kiss, I paused in the kitchen doorway and raised an eyebrow. "You mean I can't wear my toolbelt?"

He flushed, and I turned and sauntered on into our bedroom, whistling a bluesy tune.

That toolbelt made him hotter than a firecracker. Just the mention of it would usually have him bending me over the nearest flat surface and fucking me, which is precisely what he had done the first time I'd worn it.

I stripped off my clothes, taking the time to fold them, rather than leaving them in a pile on the floor as I wanted to. Theo was in the bathroom ahead of me and had the shower turned on.

I didn't bother trying to hide my arousal as he reached for me. "Do we have time?"

He growled and kicked the bathroom door shut.

****

I was dressed in a pair of twill trousers and a linen short-sleeved shirt. It was August in Washington, too warm for an undershirt, so I hadn't bothered. I picked up a comb and faced the mirror, wiping off the steam that had fogged it up, and I realized why Theo liked this shirt. Dry, it appeared quite sedate, but damp, as it was now from the after-shower humidity in the bathroom, and my nipples were visible through the material. They stiffened at the thought of how he had played with them while we were in the shower, and my dick tried to stiffen as well, but he'd used me up. I grinned cockily at my reflection. My lover was wild about me.

Just then the doorbell rang, followed by a crash from the other end of the apartment. I dropped the comb and went running into the kitchen, skidding across the tile floor in my sock feet.

Theo stood there, staring down at a broken platter. Fortunately, it had been empty. He raised his head. "Damn. I dropped it."

"Looks like it."

The doorbell rang again.

"That must be Casey." He licked his lips.

"Yeah."

"I like what you're wearing."

"Thanks."

"You forgot your shoes."

"I'll go put them on."

"Thanks."

"Are you okay? "

He nodded, and I didn't push him. I remembered how nervous I'd been when I'd brought him to meet my family.

"Wills?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Casey was eight years old when my father threw me out. None of this was her fault." The doorbell was becoming insistent.

"It'll be fine, Theo. Look, take a minute to collect yourself; I'll answer the door." I stepped around the broken china and put one hand low on his hip and the other under his chin. I kissed him, using just enough pressure for him to be aware of my lips on his. This time it was a chaste kiss. I kept my tongue behind my teeth and didn't try to play ping pong with his tonsils. I pulled back. "Don't cut your fingers on that."

"Thanks, Wills," he said softly. "Next time you kiss me?"

"Yeah?"

"I want it with tongue."

I paused in the doorway to wink at him over my shoulder, pleased that he didn't look as nervous.

I went to our front door and checked the peephole. I was DSD after all. The images were distorted. I was expecting a woman, but not a man at her side. They were probably civilians, but then again, maybe not. I opened my briefcase and reached for my gun. I concealed it behind my back and opened the door.

"May I help you?"

"Teodore!" I found myself with an armful of young woman.

"Er?"

The man beside her coughed. "Acacia, do you not remember? Your brother has red hair."

She pulled back, her smile brilliant, and then it vanished, and she frowned at me. "You are not Teodore!"

"No. I'm William Matheson, Theo's friend. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. There was an accident in the kitchen."

Her smile returned. "He has told me of you."

He had? I started to smile back at her.

"And this is our father."

My smile vanished, and I had to take a deep breath.

I'd never had a problem keeping my temper, which was one of the things that kept me alive in an organization like the DSD, but right then I wanted to jam the barrel of my gun under his chin and give him a Clark Palmer smile as I blew his brains out through the top of his head.

I gritted my teeth. Behind my back I shifted my gun to my left hand, and extended my right. "How do you do?"

I'd envisioned Theo's father as having a beer gut and dressed in raggy old clothes, with thinning hair and badly in need of a shave. This man was an older version of my lover. His chestnut hair was streaked with grey, but he was neither potbellied nor poorly dressed.

"You are Teodore's? friend?" He hesitated, then took my hand, and I was surprised he didn't try to squeeze the bones together in a macho power-play, or whatever the Greek term for macho was. His grip was almost tentative. "I am Eryx Bascopolis. My daughter, Acacia, has made herself known to you. Where is my son, please?"

"Casey!" Theo came into the room, smiling and holding his hands out to her. One would never have suspected he'd been a basket-case moments before. "I was just putting the finishing touches on dinner." He stumbled to a standstill when he saw the man who stood beside his sister, and I thought he was going to pass out. I was at his side in a shot.

"Do you want me to throw him out, babe?" I asked softly, so that only he heard. Theo's eyes were filled with joy for a second, and then the memory of that last quarrel with his father reared back to slap him in the face.

Acacia had heard me though. "Teodore, please. Poppa found one of your letters to me and made me tell him where you were. He wanted to see you!"

After that one glance at his father, Theo refused to meet his eyes again. "Why? Does he need money?"

Eryx Bascopolis' hands clenched into fists, and I put myself between my lover and his father. The older man forced himself to relax. "I do not need your money, Teodore."

"Is someone dying, then? I mean, twelve years, Poppa! You never felt the need to see me in all that time, so why now?"

"I did not know where you were. Your sister knew. Even your mother knew. But me, I was left in the dark." The elder Bascopolis cleared his throat. "You have every right to be resentful, my son, but I, too, have this right."

"Oh, no. You just hold on. You have *no* right to resent me! You told me you no longer had a son. You told me if I didn't stop being gay, you wanted me out of your house. You told me?"

"Teodore, how many times did you refuse to listen to what I said? And this one time, you chose to listen? Basta! I am Greek. You know the temper we Greeks have. I *never* wanted you to leave."

Theo's mouth gaped open. "You never??"

"But you ran out of the house, and I would not permit myself to look for you, no matter how your mother pleaded with me. Pride, eh?"

"You brush it off to pride?" I snarled. "Do you have any idea what your words did to Theo? What they cost him? He?"

My lover poked me sharply in the side. I glanced at him, and he gave a tiny shake of his head. I bit down hard on my lip. His family had no idea what he had done, how he'd had to live, for the past twelve years. I gritted my teeth.

His father's lips wavered as he tried to smile, but it was a poor excuse. "Teodore, please, could you ask your friend to perhaps put away his gun?"

Startled, Theo looked down at my hand and burst into slightly hysterical laughter when he saw the revolver. I scowled at him, scowled at his father, and stalked to the bedroom. I'd have to remember to put it back in my briefcase in the morning.

I heard Theo murmur, "Excuse us a minute, please." He followed me and shut the bedroom door.

"Your father's going to think we're having wild monkey sex in here, you know." I looked around the room, trying to decide the best place to temporarily hide the gun.

"Then he'll be disabused when we come out in a minute, looking none the worse for wear, I might add."

"Damn. And here I was hoping for a quickie." Carefully, I placed the gun on the dresser.

"Wills, behave. We had a quickie earlier, in the bathroom."

"So? I'm up for another one." I propped a shoulder against the wall and tucked my hands in my back pockets, stretching the material across my groin taut.

His eyes darkened. "Oh, I am so going to fuck your brains out when Acacia and my father leave."

"You're not going to offer them a place to stay for the night?"

"No."

"Listen, Theo, I really can go somewhere else if you want them to stay."

That diverted him. "Where? A motel?"

"Probably," I agreed moodily. I'd stayed in too many during the course of my work. I pushed off from the wall and began to pace, considering my options. "I wish I hadn't given up my apartment. Well, I think there's a Motel 6 a couple of miles down the road. Or maybe it's a Marriott."

"Or there's Palm." Was he getting snarky with me?

"Not a helpful suggestion, Theo," I groused.

Clark Palmer, my superior, had an apartment on the next floor, but I'd sooner spend the night with a hungry lion than the most intimidating agent the DSD had ever produced. I'd offered him a bed at my place once, after his apartment had been destroyed when someone tried to break in, and had been ever grateful he'd had somewhere else to go.

"I don't want you to leave. This is your apartment, too, you know." He'd said that before, but it was nice to hear again. Still?

"Theo, the last thing you're going to want is to flaunt your lover in your father's face. I can throw a change of clothes in a tote. Hell, I can pack for a few days. If he stays longer? fuck it, I can go to Sears and buy more clothes, or? I know how to use a washer and dryer, and most motels have a utility room somewhere on the premises." Reluctantly, I was starting to think that might be the best thing for me to do.

"Wills?"

"I'd need to bring my briefcase, and my laptop. The table's already set for three, I can just?"

"You can just *nothing*!" He planted his hands on my chest and shoved me backwards. "You're part of my life, an important part, and if my father can't accept that, if he can't accept that I'm gay? "

"What? Theo?"

He backed me up against the wall. "You're not going anywhere, tough guy. You got that?"

I felt stupidly relieved. "I love when you get masterful!" I flirted my lashes at him.

He brought my mouth to his for a kiss that left my lips feeling swollen. "Damn straight you do!" He backed up a step and glanced down at my feet. "Shoes, babe," he reminded me. "And just promise me one thing."

"Anything. I'll even marry you." Oh, fuck, where had that come from?

"You've been watching The Big Chill again, haven't you?" He'd come home one evening after having spent the day shopping, for me as it turned out, to find me watching that ensemble movie. 'I'd have thought you'd be watching something with a lot of testosterone and a high body count,' he'd teased, then sat down and made me rewind it, and watched the whole thing with me.

I nodded now, making sure I appeared sheepish. I didn't want him to know that, to my surprise, I'd been as serious as a heart attack.

He ran his thumb over my lips. "Poppa's gonna know I was kissing you."

"Fuck him."

"I'd really rather you didn't, babe." His fingers stroked the spot on the back of my neck that turned me to butter.

"Theo," I huffed. "If you keep this up, I'm going to muss you, and your father will really have something to disapprove! Now what is it that you don't want me to do?"

"Just don't shoot him, babe."

"Think you know me so well!" I grumbled, and then caught my breath as he smiled.

That smile was bright enough to light the room. "Damn straight!" He strolled back into the other room.

I got the gun and stuffed it under my pillow, smoothing the bedspread so it would look undisturbed, then stepped into my shoes and raced after him. I wasn't going to let him deal with this situation alone.

Theo was dealing with it very well, as it turned out. He was ushering his father and sister into the dining room.

"I made stifado," he said a little diffidently.

"Ma's recipe?" His sister's eyes were huge. "How did you get that? She won't even let me stay in the kitchen when she's making it!"

The corner of his mouth kicked up. "Ma always liked me best?" he offered.

"Oh, you!" She swatted his arm, then turned to me. "We used to listen to the Smothers Brothers albums when we were young."

"It was *my* album. Ma had fits when you would listen to it!"

It was fun watching them slip into brother/sister banter.

The older man smiled hesitantly. "I have brought a good wine, then, I think." He offered Theo the bottle of retsina. "Gaia. It's the bottle your grandpa saved for you."

"And you never opened it?"

"My son, it was yours."

Theo took it. "Thank you, Poppa."

I went into the kitchen to get another wine glass and place setting.

"You will forgive me for my foolish, prideful, hot-headedness?"

I held my breath, waiting to hear my lover's response. We were all waiting. And then?

"Yes, Poppa. I will."

It looked like we were going to have a happy ending.

~End~

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