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“Think Dante’s still awake?” asks Lex during a lull in conversation, putting a finger to his lips.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and find out?” teases Omar, flipping through channels on the TV.
Lex rolls his eyes. “Are you really going to use that joke every time I bring up the love of my life?”
Funny story: Brett had already given me quite an eye-opening experience with Dante the other day. We had both gotten off of work around the same time, and he handed me an envelope that he stuffed away in his bedroom. “Can you run this down to Dante’s basement apartment?” he asked me. “I, uh, kinda forgot to get it to him yesterday and swore I’d have it to him by the end of today.”
I took that envelope and quickly realized it was the rent. Holding that envelope sent my mind on a very long journey, from the first terrifying day of my internship when I learned I wasn’t being paid, to the day I got hired at Aubergines, and beyond. I had thought my life here wasn’t going to last.
Holding that envelope full of our rent carried more meaning to me than I could possibly express in any number of words.
“Are you gonna stand there and squeeze that envelope for an hour?” Brett teased me, snapping me out of my daze. “It ain’t gonna jizz all over you if you hold it long enough, y’know.”
I made my way down the five flights to the door of the basement apartment, inside of which I had never been. When I knocked, there wasn’t an answer. Figuring it wouldn’t be wise to leave this envelope full of money on his doorstep, I decided—against all logic—to give the doorknob a test turn.
And it opened.
I stuck my head inside. “Dante?” I called out, curious. Already, my eyes were drinking in the vast and impressive size of his basement apartment. It was the size of an entire floor, with a very open-concept approach—a total bachelor pad that had to be the envy of everyone living above it. Surely Brett had dreamed of hosting one of his parties down here. Maybe someday … “Dante? You home? I have our rent!” I kept calling out, daring to take another step or two inside. “Dante?”
That’s when I turned the corner and saw it.
A dungeon. A full and complete dungeon. My eyes were filled with a wall of leather toys, whips, cuffs, and floggers. I saw a harness hanging from the ceiling. I saw a giant table with cuffs for wrists and ankles. I saw a cage. Two of them.
I saw everything.
And that’s when the voice came from behind me. “See something you like, baby boy?”
I must have jumped so high, my head could’ve hit the ceiling. I spun around, fumbled with the fat envelope in my hand, and it dropped to the feet of Dante, who stood over me like a towering block of intimidating muscle and beauty.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh—” I swallowed and gave yet another glance at the scene. I saw a tripod with a camera. I saw giant bulbs and photography gear. I saw—“I’m just here to, uh …” I knelt down to fetch the envelope from Dante’s feet, which felt strangely and suddenly submissive, causing me to flush like a cherry. “To pay the rent,” I finished, handing him the envelope.
To my surprise, Dante smirked, amused. “You aren’t like the others,” he then said.
I was so taken by his sudden change of tone, I only squeaked out the words, “Others …?”
“And you were right about the teenager,” he then added as he popped open the envelope and quickly thumbed through the money, counting it in the space of five seconds. “The kid’s got an eye.”
“He does,” I reluctantly agreed.
Dante nodded slowly, and then upon turning away, said, “Now you have yourself a nice day,” and went back to his room.
I left the basement feeling a mix of satisfaction and bewilderment. There was a lot left of Dante to figure out, and I wasn’t about to presume to know all his secrets with just one glimpse at his toy room.
“So what are you two?” asks Brett suddenly, yanking me out of that memory of my encounter with Dante. “Boyfriends? Dating? Fuck buddies? I mean, we all know you’re doing it,” he adds as he shoves an elbow into my side, sitting by us on the couch. “It’s written all over your faces.”
Alan and I give each other a look. “Hmm. I’d say we’re probably fuck buddies when I get off of a shift at Aubergines in uniform,” I reason.
“Definitely,” Alan agrees astutely. “But on the weekdays after your internship … we’re dating.”
“Dating,” I affirm, then run a hand through his hair and put a kiss on his full plush lips. “But when we’re all alone …”
