Page 53 of Sweet Thing

CHAPTER 25

O Superman

Simeon enjoyed learning to cook meals and bake cakes. He’d developed an interest in food after leaving Rehab and liked finding out about ingredients and how to use them. The dinner party at Pieter and Emily’s had been fun, and the judge had been very appreciative of everything he was fed. Sim experienced a twitch of arousal when watching Bastian eat the dessert he’d prepared. And, so it was with a mixture of delight and intrigue, that the tables had now turned and Simeon was sitting in the candle-lit cabin at a dining table romantically set for two, inhaling the delicious scents coming from the kitchen.

Bastian was cooking Simeon’s birthday meal from scratch. Tomatoes, garlic, herbs, seafood—he was making Simeon’s favorite dish, Tagliatelle with shrimp, zucchini, and cherry tomatoes.

Sim’s belly squirmed with excitement and color rose to his cheeks as Bastian delivered the bowl of tossed salad, garlic bread, and then the plates of pasta to the table. Sim leaned into the plate, inhaled and moaned. “Gaah’d. This smells so good.” His gaze flitted from the large plate of food to the sparkling, mirthful eyes of the man in the pale turquoise linen shirt who seated himself opposite. “How did you know this was my favorite dish?”

“I read some interviews online. You mentioned your favorite food in one of them”, Bast admitted, unfurling his napkin and draping it across his lap.

“Ah, so you have been web-stalking me!”

“No malice, I just wanted to give you the best birthday I could.”

Simeon’s belly flipped at the affection in that sentiment. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so tongue-tied and giddy from having one man’s undivided attention. The heated blush returned to his cheeks as he met Bastian’s steady, genuine gaze, and then he looked away shyly.

Bastian eased his hand across the table and threaded his fingers with Simeon’s. A host of tea light candles had been placed around the room, and Simeon was light-headed from the grown-up romance of it all. The fire danced and flickered in the fireplace, classical music drifted from the sound system, and Sim sat with a man he found deeply attractive, holding hands in the muted light with his favorite meal a bite away.

Since he’d left home at sixteen, birthdays had always been just another excuse to party hard and to try new substances, aiming to get a bigger buzz than the last time, then drink to excess and fuck anyone with a dick and a pulse. But this high that claimed Sim’s body was different—it was real, Bastian was real, and Simeon didn’t have to be the flamboyant ‘model Simeon Duchamp’ to keep Bast’s attention.

“I, uh, have a confession,” Simeon said, a tremor in his voice. “Oh,” Bastian let go of Sim’s hand and sat back in his chair, his expression suddenly one of concern. Simeon gathered all of his courage. If they were going to do this, if he was actually going to have an adult relationship, Sim knew he had to be honest with Bastian from the get-go.

“You recall when we met at the Exhibition?”

“Of course. You were the most beautiful work of art in the gallery.”

Simeon blushed and felt a rush of guilt. “There was a painting you wanted—Our Awakening.”

“Ja! I was so pissed that another buyer got there before me,” Bastian exclaimed passionately.

Simeon bit his lower lip and then said “Well, I was the buyer. I paid two hundred thousand for that painting.”

Bastian’s eyes widened in surprise, and his shoulders slumped as if he deflated. “I see.” His mouth was drawn in a tightened line and his eyes, for once, were shut down and unreadable.

Simeon wondered then if he had made a huge mistake and ruined what was probably the most traditionally romantic evening of his life. Was he trying to sabotage himself even before their relationship got off the ground?

The silence stretched, and then Bastian looked from his plate of food and considered Simeon. The look made Sim feel more naked and vulnerable than the glare of hundreds of photographers in the pit at the end of the runway, or the fixed haughty expressions on the faces of the Fashion media and celebrities who watched as he walked. The look cut through all of the illusion and bravado and found Simeon’s core. He awkwardly lowered his gaze down to his plate of pasta and even though it looked amazing, his appetite drained away. Then Bastian spoke.

“We are both from privileged backgrounds, are we not?” Simeon looked up and nodded in acknowledgment.

“Many people would think spending such a vast amount on a painting to be obscene. And in a way, I would agree. But it’s such a beautiful, intimate portrait.”

“It is,” Sim enthused.

“I think I wanted it because it reminded me of what it felt like to adore and be adored. I could see that the model was in-love with the artist, and her sensitive depiction of him expressed so much devotion.” Bastian sat back in his chair. “I suspect I thought that by owning that painting I could own the intimacy and fill the void in my heart”, he admitted, sounding acutely self-aware.

“I thought the same thing,” Sim confessed. “It was retail therapy for my broken heart.”

Bastian’s eyes grew warmer as he gazed longingly at Simeon. “You still love him, don’t you?”

“I think I will always love Peety, just like you will always love Matti.”

“That’s true.” He sighed. “We both love men we cannot have,” Bastian observed.

“Gaah’d, we are such head cases!” Simeon laughed nervously and cradled his face in his hands.

“Ja,” Bast agreed. “I guess we are perfect for each other,” he added affectionately.