How We Are: A MFM romance

Luigi's

Ezra

Luigi's the kind of place where powerful people go to laugh, plan hits and enjoy overly priced food. It's a Saturday night and the bar is full, the tables are full of men and women conducting meetings.

There's an actual couple or two, tourist who don't know what this place is actually for, especially on the weekends, and rich people too pretentious to understand every space isn't their space.

He belongs here.

Out in the sea of gangsters in suits, it's his birthright. He belongs here as much as he belongs in that kitchen. I wonder what that's like? To be able to choose. To have multiple places to go?

I smile at a customer and lean in as he beckons me closer. I pretend not to notice his hand on my leg.

I don't need the tips. I don't need the money. Not this damn bad. Honestly...I just...don't know what else to do with myself. This is all I bothered to learn. And I'm good at it.

"How can I help, Sir?"

"Get me another glass of wine, a 45 red if you have it," he smiles, and taps my thigh again. If I tell Cain about this he'd come out here and start something.

It's kinda fun to see him mad.

"Will do," I grin, backing away. The night ticks away and finally my shift is over. I change clothes, drive home. To the apartment I share with Cain.

Cain can afford to live alone. We both probably can. We're just so used to being together, it feels foreign not to have him with me.

He didn't like his house very much, so he was always over mine.

I lick my lips softly, as I enter the house, wiping my shirt off immediately. I grab a beer from the fridge and wait.

Wait for him to get home. There's nothing to do alone. I can watch TV, but nothing good is on. Just a waste of power. I could read but I've read everything I want to read and I hate starting things that aren't finished.

I could sleep, but I'm not tired.

I could masturbate but I'm honestly too old to sit here jerking my dick like an idiot to some porn that everyone knows is ridiculously fake.

I could go out, but I just don't want to. I want to be at home.

Just not alone. An hour or so passes and I order take out so it can be here for Cain.

"Home," he grunts as he opens the door. I grin, standing.

"Cain,"

He looks me up and down those dark eyes raking my form. "Put a damn shirt on," he gruffs, as I throw my arm around him.

Cain is a beast of man, 6'6 big, tall, muscular and he's very...he's kinda mean. Very stand offish. Grunts and growls. Crosses his arms a lot.

"Ah, I missed you! You've been gone forever! I've got Chinese, and beer—"

He gives me a glance out the corner of his eyes as he pulls off his shirt. His work pants hang low off his hips, various scars littering his torso. A wisp of hair peeks out of his pants in his happy trail.

Cain is usually pretty quiet. We don't have to talk. We know one another well enough to exist in silence now. He quietly takes the plate I've left, chugging his beer, emptying his pockets on the table.

"Rent's due in a few days," he informs me, sitting on the couch, turning on the TV.

"I got my half," I smile, scooting a bit closer to him. He glanced at me but says nothing, giving me a nod.

"We don't have to spilt it," He tells me like he does every month. "I have it covered. It's fine."

I shrug. "'S fine. Wanna earn my keep."

He glanced over at me once more. He clenched his jaw. "I'm going out this weekend. I'll be away. Not at work either. Can you keep the place clean while I'm away?"

Away? Since when does he go places without me? And I barely leave the house.

"Where are you going?"
"To mind my business," he frowns.

Right. I lick my lips and turn my eyes to the tv.