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“Uh. Well,” Dmitri said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Luca said you guys were getting lunch, so I thought…do you want to come in with us?” He gestured weakly to the door of the pizzeria.
Luca was staring at Raphael with a confused look, and Raphael forced himself to relax. “Luca wanted sushi, so we should probably…”
“Pizza’s fine,” Luca cut in, jutting his chin at the shop door. There was just the barest hint of oregano in the air, and Raphael knew Luca well enough to know he’d probably hate the cheap imitation they served there. “Why don’t you grab a table and we’ll follow you in.”
Dmitri frowned at Raphael, then looked at Rian before shrugging and leading the way. Raphael tried not to watch them go, and he only came back to himself when Luca touched the tips of his finger to Raphael’s chin.
“Do we need to talk about this?”
Raphael cleared his throat and contemplated playing stupid, but not for long. “Is this a date? Does it seem like a date?”
“Uh.” Luca dragged a hand through his hair before glancing over his shoulder. “I’m going to say no.”
“Is this normal behavior for college professors, then?” he pressed.
Luca sighed. “Okay, it is a little weird that his teacher took him to lunch—or whatever. But they don’t seem…intimate.”
Raphael’s jaw tightened. “Sicher.” He was unable to stop a hint of sarcasm from his voice, but Luca didn’t seem bothered by it.
“YouknowDmitri can take care of himself.” Luca pressed. “He’s sweet, but if he needs help, he’ll ask for it.”
Raphael had to remind himself that Dmitri was not innocent. He was reserved, and he was quiet, and that fooled a lot of people into thinking he was naïve. It fooled a lot of people into thinking he had not lived as much life as he had. “I’m being stupid.”
“You’re being sweet, but maybe don’t use your mind to set that guy on fire, yeah? He’s probably nice, and Dmitri really wants to do well in school.”
Raphael deflated, and he felt like an ass. “I care about him.”
“I know. We all know,” Luca said with a quiet sigh, and Raphael was determined not to read too much into that statement as he followed his friend inside.
* * *
He liked the man,Himmel hilf ihm. Rian was charming and sweet, he was well traveled, and he was funny. And he paid very little attention to Dmitri, who sat to his right with his face tipped toward his plate, wearing a small smile.
Raphael had gone in hoping to give the man a chance as a good professor, but he was wary and refusing to trust a person in a position of power like that. And it wasn’t entirely because Dmitri looked at him with a soft expression on his face, but…it was partly that.
Rian had thrown him off, though. He was attentive to Raphael and engaging. And he was funny. Raphael didn’t want to drop his guard, but it felt damn near impossible under the gaze of his soft blue eyes.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have to teach in the closet?” Dmitri asked, halfway into their dessert. It was cannoli, and Raphael was avoiding everything but his salad because he would be damned if he fucked up his diet now.
He didn’t mind so much, not when the sight of the filled sweets made Dmitri smile, even if it was directed at the man sitting next to him instead of at Raphael.
“I don’t need to wonder. I know,” Rian said. He pulled his fork through some of the cannoli cream, but he didn’t eat any. “I was in the closet until pretty recently. Even when laws changed and public opinion softened, that small town part of me never really let go. I think that’s why it took me so long to really know for sure I was gay.”
Raphael understood what that was like—in a different way, but he knew that ache. “I was eighteen when I came out as bisexual. I was with a woman, so my mother said it was probably a phase, and I let her convince herself it was. It was easier than the fight. I knew years before that though. I was maybe twelve or thirteen, and some of the boys in my class were so…beautiful.”
Luca laughed softly and shook his head. “Yeah. Same.”
“My gay awakening,” Rian said, smiling at him over his over-sized glass of ice water, and Raphael felt a single thump of his heart, “was Liza. I’m the absolute stereotype. My uncle took me to a film festival to see a recording of her singing ‘Maybe This Time,’ and I just…”
“Knew?” Raphael asked. It wasn’t like that for him, but he still understood what Rian was saying. That one, singular moment when something outside of himself made something inside make sense. The one thing that sparked a flame that would never go out. It continued to burn, a careful, low, flicker in his gut that reminded him he wasn’t the same as everyone else.
“It was the first time music ever made me break down, but it was more than just her voice. It was that raw ache in those words, and it made me want to reach for something I wasn’t sure I could have.” Rian sat back and breathed out slowly. “I think my uncle knew—I think that’s why he took me that night. He never did tell my mother.”
“Does she know now?” Dmitri asked. It was the first time he’d spoken during the meal, and Raphael felt a sudden stab of guilt, like he was betraying his dedication and love by having the gall to look at another man.
Rian licked his lips, then shook his head. “She died before I could come out to her. Sometimes I regret it, you know? Like there’s this piece of me she never got a chance to reject. But I know it’s better that way. I get to keep parts of her that weren’t entirely full of hate.”
Dmitri bit his lip, and Raphael knew the pain he felt—the suffering from his parents and how fucking much they didn’t deserve the man he had become. “I’m glad you got out of there.”
