Page 21 of Sweet Thing

“Simeon, I would advise you strongly not to meet this guy alone. Call me, call Pieter, whoever. If you decide to meet him, please don’t go alone”, Marcus pleaded.

“I know, I know, I’m not stupid.” Simeon shrugged sheepishly. “Of all the things he could have stolen. He knows I’ll want that Polaroid back.” Sim huffed and curled deeper into the couch.

****

The downstairs door slammed, and a gentle sing-song voice called

“Hi, honey I’m home!“ Pieter realized just how silly it sounded after he’d said it. It was a comforting habitual greeting he and Emily shared like they were a 1950s American sit-com couple. Pieter strode into the living room with a white paper bag in his hand. He nodded a greeting at Marcus, crouched, and unpacked the bag onto the coffee table.

“I got a pot of Arnica cream; the lady said it was good for bruising, and I got two reusable kool paks. You can put them in the freezer to cool and then put them on your ass—Instead of sitting on frozen peas”, Pieter explained with a grin.

“Thanks, Peety, you’re a star.” he reached to the table and lifted the pot of cream to read the instructions.

“So, which one of you hotties wants to do the honors?” Simeon smirked. “I can’t do it on my own.” Marcus reached for the kool paks and made for the door. “I’ll put these in the freezer, he’s all yours Pieter,” he chuckled, giving Sim a sly wink as he left the room.

“Oh well,” Pieter sighed, “You better not wriggle as much as Lukas. Gott, the first time I changed him…” he recalled wistfully “You should have seen it! How can such a little person create so much shit?”

“I can assure you I’ll lie very still and do as I’m told.” Simeon's gut buzzed with delight. He could not wipe the filthy grin off his face. He laid out again, drew his silk pajamas over his bottom, and sighed, relaxing his body into the couch.

“Take a photo for evidence, will you Peety? I want to remember just how much I hate that fucker,” he instructed, as he spread his limbs out and gave a cat-like stretch. Simeon settled on his belly, arms above his head and face buried in the red velvet cushion to hide his glee at the contact to come. Pieter prompted with a coo of “Smile”, as he took a photo of Simeon’s butt on Sim’s smartphone. Marcus sauntered back into the room and took a seat, trying to hide his grin at the scene.

“Okay, the Apotheker said to apply and leave the skin uncovered for a while to let it soak in. You do your wrists. I’ll cream your ass, but then I gotta get home.” Pieter informed, as he dipped his finger into the pot of Arnica cream.

Simeon held in his laugh and glanced up at the retro wall clock. It was only just past ten a.m., and his first casting wasn’t until one p.m. He felt the chill of the cream soothing his skin as Pieter applied it with the gentlest of touches. Sim felt it then, the stirring warmth in his groin, and he pushed his face deeper into the cushion to mute a moan of pleasure. Pieter was so gentle and oblivious to the fact it was making Simeon hard.

“You okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” Pieter asked in concern at Sim’s muted groans.

Simeon shook his head against the cushion. How many times had he fantasized about Pieter saying those very same words while riding his ass? He couldn’t keep the laugh in and lifted his head to offer Pieter a playful smirk. They both began to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Was?” Pieter asked, flushing with embarrassment. Sim bit his bottom lip.

“Life is funny sometimes…” Simeon replied.

“This time yesterday I was trying to find the courage to apologize to you and say goodbye forever. And today, you’ve forgiven me, and you’re rubbing cream on my ass!”

Pieter startled at hearing Marcus’s deep booming laugh. He had forgotten the other man was there.

“Okay, I’m done. You gotta lie there for at least thirty minutes.”

Simeon was relieved he wasn’t allowed to move, it would give time for his hard-on to go down.

“Oh yeah, this was on the floor by the front door,” Pieter said, suddenly remembering the hand written white envelope he’d picked up when he’d let himself back in. He pulled it from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to Simeon, who scowled and tore at the envelope.

Sim removed a note. There was a short message below the business header of a company called “B.RHäusermakler.” ‘Sorry. Hurting you was never my intention. Bastian x’

He had supplied his phone number. Simeon’s belly roiled with angst. What the hell was he expected to do with that?

“Fucker! He was here again and didn’t even have the balls apologize in person”, Simeon spat, anger rising. “Here, Peety. Will you keep this for me? I just can’t handle the thought of him at the moment. I don’t want the temptation of having his phone number.”

Surprised, Pieter took the note. Old Simeon would have been on the phone screaming abuse within seconds of getting Bastian’s number. Pieter was pleased to observe that Sim’s tendency to let his flapping mouth run the show before his brain was engaged had lessened. He appeared to be open to talking about his feelings and thinking things through. It was another positive change.

“So will you come to lunch sometime?” Pieter asked slipping Bastian’s note into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Sure I’d love to. I’m in London for two days from tomorrow, back on Friday. Are you guys free on Saturday? We could picnic if the weather’s good”, he suggested.

“Perfect! I’ll bring an inflatable cushion for you.” Sim slapped Pieter’s thigh and pouted. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you this evening, ja.” Pieter kissed Sim on the head and ruffled his hair paternally. Sim grabbed Pieter’s hand before he could move away and kissed the palm.

“Thanks, Peety. I owe you.”

“What… an ass rub? Okay, sure, only if Emily can watch!” he jested and then laughed at the look of horror on Sim’s face. He was so easy to wind up.

****