Literally.
Dammit, Constance, I love you but…really? Tonight?
He considered hustling RJ back to his bedroom and starting the fun and games, but the air usually pulled back that way if he turned the overhead fan on. And he hoped to get hot and sweaty enough to need the fan. Aaron cleared his throat, wondering how to maintain their boner-making banter and a sexy ambiance while cleaning up putrid-smelling cat shit.
Damn Constance for being so cute and fluffy and for choosingright nowto lay a massive turd.
Rubbing his palms against his pants, Aaron cleared his throat. He gestured toward Constance’s litter box, placed on a towel near the door out to the side entry by the kitchen. “Cat box. Let me just deal with that? I think we’ll both enjoy ourselves more without the…” He wrinkled his nose and waved his hand in front of it.
“Yeah, good idea,” RJ said with a warm smile. He took off his boots, crossed the loft’s living room, and dropped down onto Aaron’s green mid-century sofa, long legs spread wide. His still swollen crotch was on display. “I’ll wait.” He placed his hand over the bulge in his jeans, and Aaron flushed hot all over.
On either side of the couch, drawn close enough to use the table easily, was a set of matching green chairs. Constance rested in one of them, her golden eyes glowing, shining bright against her black fur. Aaron glared at her.
“That’s Constance,” he said, motioning toward her. She hopped down from the chair and sauntered from the room like she was putting on a show just for RJ. Aaron chuckled. “She’s a stinky brat, but I love her.”
“I know. I’ve seen your Instagram account. Or should I say Constance’s Instagram account?” RJ laughed easily as Aaron knelt to lift the lid off the litter box, the scent of Constance’s gift rising even more strongly through the loft. The bedroom and bathroom were down a brick-lined hallway, and the windows in Aaron’s room looked out on First Presbyterian Church. Which felt decadently transgressive, given the porn Aaron watched in that room whenever he had a chance.
“It’s all yours? Or do you rent?” RJ asked.
“It’s all mine. Thanks to an inheritance.”
RJ stood and made a slow turn around the open space, taking in the kitchen table by the long counter. The stove, the microwave, and the refrigerator were all in a neat row, and the dishwasher and sink were installed in the counter facing the living room—the better to wash dishes while watching TV, Aaron guessed. He’d never actually done it himself.
“No Christmas tree?”
Aaron shook his head. “I have those, though.” He nodded to the small string of colored Christmas lights he’d hung over the loft’s big front window.
RJ sauntered over to the window and switched on the light. “I have to admit, Mr. Danvers, I expected more holiday spirit out of the man who turned his classroom into a blizzard of hand-cut snowflakes, à la the movieElf. Or do you just save all the merry for the students?”
“Pretty much.” Aaron never decorated his loft for the holidays beyond a string of lights and whatever trinkets he got as teacher gifts from the kids.
On Christmas Eve, he always headed out to his father’s farm in Strawberry Plains, where he, his dad, aunts, uncles, and cousins spent the evening together. Then they exchanged small gifts beneath his father’s tree. And Aaron always spent Christmas Day itself with his mom in her condo, where he enjoyed her tree.
“Are you a secret grinch?”
Aaron laughed. “No. I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time of the year.”
RJ’s brow quirked, interest gleaming in his eye, but then he gestured around at the apartment. “Could have fooled me, Mr. Danvers.”
“It’s a long story, but I split my holiday between my parents, always have. I help them decorate their places. It just seems like overkill to decorate here too when I’m the only one who’ll see it.”
“Right.You’dsee it.” RJ shoved his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and appraised Aaron. Flushing, Aaron really wished he was on his knees naked instead of holding a poop scoop. “That’s important too,” RJ said. “To do things just for yourself.”
“I know. It’s just I’m barely here.” Were they going to discuss his decorations, or lack thereof, or were they going to fuck?Damn you, Constance!He grabbed a plastic baggy from the stash he kept near the litter box and dipped the scoop into the litter, covering the giant turd so that it would clump easily.
“I decorated my hotel rooms when I was on tour,” RJ said. “Trees, lights, the works.”
Aaron laughed awkwardly. “Did you come here to fuck me or would you rather we went down to the corner and bought a Christmas tree?”
RJ smirked. “We could do both. So your folks are divorced?”
“Yeah.” Aaron slipped the giant poop in the bag. He might as well clear out all the clumped pee while he was at it since now they were making small instead of dirty talk. Then he’d spray some air freshener and try to move things back toward sexy times.
“Mine too. Kinda. They were never married, but they aren’t together.”
“Do you see them both?”
“Nah. My father wasn’t part of my life. Except when he was. And that’s not worth talking about. It was best when he was gone.” He shrugged. “I liked being the man of the house.”
