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Gustavo’s father, who was one of those men to whom everyone listened when he spoke, had once talked to his son about marriage. He’d said, “Son, marriage is the most terrifying thing you can do. You’re giving yourself entirely to another person, making yourself vulnerable. But don’t fool yourself – a Chilean woman never gives herself up completely. That’s why our women don’t change their last names, as the English do. She’ll give you her trust – if you earn it. And you’ll give her your love. You will never own her.”
Gustavo considered the words (that conversation seemed to have taken place in another life) as he sat back, basking in the Mexican sun. His father would be bemused, if nothing else, to know that he had kept the advice close to him. He hadn’t gotten married, though, not quite.
He wasn’t sure exactly what this was, and his father would certainly not be thrilled with where life had taken his son.
The man before him was broad-shouldered, black-haired and caramel-skinned, with big brown eyes that still held so much youth and innocence. He was pacing, letting his long arms swing out ahead of him and crash together on the step down.
“Max,” Gustavo called. “Sit down. You are making me nervous.”
The younger man listened, sat down and gazed over at his… well, what was he exactly to Gustavo? His business partner and associate, to the outside world, but inwardly he was so very much more.
“Sorry,” Max apologized. “I just… I believe in you. But this is a little nerve-wracking.” Gustavo smiled.
“I know it. But we can convince them. We’re the best at what we do. Your chemistry and my business plan. Haven’t we proven that already?”
“Well, the restaurant is definitely taking off,” Max enthused. “People are talking about it all over the place. I even saw a piece in the newspaper! I’m shocked at how quickly word spread.” He tilted his head and looked at Gustavo. “Then again, with you in charge of marketing…” He shyly moved in and pressed a kiss to Gustavo’s cheek. He felt his stomach do leaps.
This was something else.
“Oh, don’t be modest, Maximo,” he playfully chastised, “You have certainly done your part. And when this deal is done, well, we don’t have to worry about very much ever again.” The yard was private enough; there were no other houses nearby, but he still felt uncomfortable getting too close outdoors. As much as he liked soaking up the sun, he might need to pull Max inside soon; he was picturing the younger man climbing into his lap, putting his head against his neck… “Let’s go inside.” Max nodded.
They walked, arm in arm, back through the patio and then up the stairs until they arrived at the shared bedroom and took seats next to each other on the bed.
Max had some kind of misty look in his eye, and it took Gustavo aback for a moment. It was like he was reflecting upon something that was somehow not right. Some piece of the puzzle out of place.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Max nodded.
“I’m okay,” he agreed. “I was just thinking about the whole thing this afternoon. I’m trying not to worry about it, though. I trust in you.”
Max had given Gustavo his trust, and he would give him his love in return.
Gustavo wasn’t a sentimental man, but the sound of the other man’s voice could swell something in his heart, a part of him he often forgot was actually there.
“Come here,” he intoned in a low voice, but it wasn’t an order. It was the first step of a dance, a gentle beckoning to his other half. Max responded with his own step, as he climbed on to Gustavo’s lap and rested his head on the older man’s shoulder.
“Love you,” he whispered. It was barely imperceptible, just a rustling through whatever hairs in Gustavo’s ears picked up on those vibrations. He knew that if he asked Max about it, Max knew these things. That was his area of expertise. Science. The where’s and how’s. To Gus, it doesn’t matter how it happened, why it happened, only that he did. Only that he could feel the warmth of Max against him, know that he had been able to bring him in his flight from Chile.
“Love you, too,” Gustavo replied, giving Max a squeeze. “Don’t ever doubt it. I wouldn’t have plucked you out of your home otherwise.”
Max snuggled in.
“Are you sure?” The teasing lilt of his voice made Gustavo’s hair stand on end. “Maybe you just like me because I’m young and naïve.” Gustavo gave him a little playful slap on the rear.
“Young and naïve! You have two college degrees.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Max pressed a kiss to Gustavo’s ear. “Before I knew you… I knew nothing about anything, really. You taught me.”
“Oh yes?” Gustavo’s eyes slid closed. “What did I teach you?”
“You taught me what being in love feels like.” Max moved to straddle his partner, facing him straight on.
“Ah, Maximo…” The older man let out a gentle hiss. “After today… The world is ours. What will you do when the world is ours?”
“I’ll be with you,” Max replied quietly. “That’s all I want.” Gustavo’s heart leapt at the look in his partner’s eyes. This was what love looked like. This was something he hadn’t ever thought he’d feel for anyone. What he had done, his past, everything he had been tied up in, he had been sure that he was lost. That he had sold his soul already.
If he had been lost, Maximo had found him. And he had found Maximo, too.
But there was no use dwelling on that now. Even as he kissed his lover’s lips, keeping it gentle and slow as he always preferred it, he thought of his strategy. The cartel would have to be impressed, even if they were offended by Gustavo’s methods at first. People always tended to come around to his way of thinking; at least, it tended to be far better for them if they did. Once the cartel was in their pocket, they could make millions. Maybe emigrate to the U.S. and find some house in the middle of nowhere where they could actually live openly together, with no one around to question it.
At the thought, he deepened the kiss. Max was everything. The two of them together were everything.
Gustavo guided his partner to lay down on the bed, before climbing on top of him. The danced slow; each moment he rubbed against him and then, at last, slipped inside him, was a moment that he wished could last forever.
This was living. He was so very alive.
When he was done, he set his head against Max’s chest and shut his eyes.
He couldn’t help but worry at his only thought: This is the calm before the storm.
Gustavo brushed it off. He could handle the cartel. Nothing would stop them now.