Oliver’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and his heart damn near stopped. “I fucking knew that was dangerous! Why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, Matty, he could have fucking hurt you! I would have sent you money and you know it.”
“Jesus, Ollie,” he returned Oliver’s words. “I wouldn’t have wanted your money and you know it. I was fine. I figured it out. It was ten years ago. He didn’t hurt me and I survived.”
But he shouldn’t have had to survive that. He should have had support.…But he hadn’t wanted Oliver’s support.
When he remembered hearing the man ask for a blowjob as they’d spoken on the phone years ago, he wondered how many men wanted sex from Matt. How many men looked at him and just saw how fucking gorgeous he was and wanted a piece of his ass.
“We were having a good time. I don’t want to talk about this,” Matt said.
It took everything in him not to force the issue, but Matt was right. It had been ten years ago, and Matt was fine.
It wasn’t until Oliver heard the soft song playing in the background through the speakers that he stopped, a goofy-happy smile pulling on his lips.
“Oh shit!” Matt said before Oliver had the chance. He reached over and hit the button to turn the volume up to hear the beginning of “My Humps” by The Black-Eyed Peas.
It was Matt who started singing with Fergie first. Oliver tried to hold back his laughter but couldn’t as Matt went on and on about his lady lumps, dancing and using hand motions at the same time.
When it came to the second verse of the song, he looked Oliver’s way with so much joy and passion in his eyes that Oliver couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth and taking over. They obviously hadn’t done this in years, but it came right back to him. Funny how lyrics to a song that held memories for you never went away.
They danced and sang at the top of their lungs as Oliver drove down Sunset Boulevard—taking turns with which one of them took the lead. Matt didn’t stop smiling the whole time, didn’t stop dancing and trying to look fierce as hell.
Oliver felt fucking ridiculous—like he was a teenager being fucking silly and crazy in the car with his friend, but he didn’t care. This had been their jam back then, and nothing would take this moment from them.
When the last few beats of the song finished, the two men dissolved into laughter again. Oliver’s heart thudded against his chest as he gripped the steering wheel. Matt’s laugh was electric—contagious in its joy as he struggled to catch his breath. He’d forgotten what it sounded like to hear Matt let loose, to have him live in the moment. It was a beautiful thing.
“Oh shit. I needed that,” Matt said when he finally settled down. He dropped back against the seat with a hand on his stomach as though it hurt from laughing so hard.
“My cheeks feel tingly from laughing,” Oliver told him.
It took Matt a minute to respond and Oliver was surprised when he answered with, “We’ve always had so much fun together, haven’t we?”
Yeah…yeah, they had. Oliver didn’t answer right away, though. He slowed down when he saw a parking garage. The restaurant was a block or two up but they likely wouldn’t get parking closer than this.
He turned inside and when the car went dark, he said, “Of course we have.”
“Promise me we’ll never lose this. I know it’s my fault. I stopped coming home and cut people off, but promise me we won’t lose it, Ollie.”
He fought to keep himself from closing his eyes. From letting his emotions take over and asking Matt why—why he’d stopped coming home and why he’d cut Oliver out.…Why he seemed so lost right now…but instead, he only replied with the truth, “Of course we won’t lose it.” Because Matt would always mean something to him, even though he knew they would only ever be friends.
*
They were sitting on the patio of a little Italian restaurant as people walked down Sunset. Matt loved to people-watch. He always had. It made him really feel like he was home to sit out here with Oliver and observe all types of different people walk by.
The conversation hadn’t stopped at all. They didn’t discuss anything important, and he was glad for it. Not because he didn’t want to share—scratch that, in all honesty, he didn’t want to talk about himself—but because discussing those things made him remember that he’d come here because he felt disconnected with his life. Right now, he just wanted to ignore those things, shove them in the back of his mind and pretend they didn’t exist.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” the waiter asked after stepping up to their table. He was a young man—probably twenty or twenty-one, with red hair and freckles that were fucking adorable.