wasn’t locked, and there was a dim hallway that led to a space on the first floor, then paint-stained stairs up to the second floor.
“Bonjour Alain. Ce n'est que moi,” Leonidas hollered down the hallway before pulling Andy up the stairs. There was another white door at the second floor landing, then narrower stairs that went up another flight.
“This is where you live?” Andy asked.
“This is where I stay,” Leonidas answered him, “for now.”
He pushed open the door on the landing, which was also not locked, then he stepped aside to make room for Andy to enter. The space was bright and open, with thin planked wooden floors and two tall windows on either side of the wall. There was a messy bed beneath one of the windows, a displaced pile of sheets and blankets gathered near the foot of the mattress, and four pillows stacked and clustered near the wall. The window over the bed was cracked open and there was what looked to be a small planter outside with a leafy green plant that snaked its way over the sill and back indoors.
Against the other wall was a low dresser with six drawers, all closed, and the top of it was stacked with books and mounds of loose change mixed with crumpled paper. One end of the dresser held a cluster of three ceramic vases or bowls, Andy wasn’t sure which.
On the far wall was a narrow door, which he assumed led to a bathroom, and a small kitchenette space just beside where they stood. Separating the kitchen from the bedroom slash living room was a tiny round table and two wicker chairs, much like the ones Andy had hated at Le Select, but somehow here…they weren’t as awful.
“Bienvenue chez moi.”
“C'est bon,” Andy murmured his approval.
“Ouais, tu es.” Leonidas closed the door behind them and crowded in at Andy’s back. He wrapped his arms around Andy’s front and walked them both toward the window. “Are you scared of heights?”
“No.” Andy swallowed and leaned back against Leonidas’s chest.
They were both still wet, their clothes damp from the rainstorm and they stuck to Andy’s skin, drawing a shiver out of him.
“You’re cold,” Leonidas said into his ear, another hot puff of breath and promise. “Do you want to take off your clothes?”
“Would that warm me up?” Andy chuckled. “Getting naked?”
“A hot shower.” Leonidas kissed down his neck again. “I’ll hang your clothes to dry.”
“What about you?” Andy turned and rested his ass on the windowsill. He blinked up at Leonidas, taken aback by the dark pools of his almost black eyes. He was so handsome, so willing, so…God, he hated to think it, but Leonidas was dreamy. Like, the shit he used to fantasize about when he was a teenager jacking off in the shower, thinking about what the man of his dreams would be like.
“Me?” Leonidas licked his lips, looking every ounce the tempting devil Andy worried he was. “I can join you, if you’d have me.”
Andy stretched his hands out and pressed his fingertips into the damp material that covered the curve of Leonidas’s narrow hips. He tugged him closer, pulling Leonidas’s breath out of him with a surprised little puff.
Andy felt better, like the world wasn’t shifting under his feet now and he tipped his head forward, dragging his mouth across Leonidas’s parted lips.
“I’ll have you,” he answered.
6
Leonidas
Leonidas didn’t know how it was possible, but Andy looked even better sitting on his bed in a pair of Leonidas’s old sweats than he did in his own, form-fitting clothes. They’d showered together, taking turns to make sure the other was washed and rinsed thoroughly, then dried off in silence in the confines of his small studio bathroom. He’d offered Andy some clothes while he waited for his to dry out on the counter in the kitchenette, and then he’d told Andy to make himself at home.
Andy’s back was against the wall and his long legs were stretched out, crossed at the ankle. His feet were bare, and the bottoms of his toes, like his fingers, were pruned from the time they’d spent in the shower.
“Do you want some wine?” Leonidas pulled a bottle of merlot out of the row of bottles on his counter
“Yes. Sure.”
Leonidas pulled out two wine glasses and poured, then padded back to the bed. He sat down beside Andy and tucked one leg beneath his body, bending the other at his knee and resting his forearm across it. He held up his glass.
“Santé,” he