his job, unhappy with his partner, and he’d just smiled and lived the lie. It shouldn’t have taken his father dying to put all of that into perspective for him, but he was here now and things were going to change.
Things were already changing, he reminded himself.
He’d taken control over the course of his life, and it felt good. Andy found himself invigorated by his ability to shape his future, something he’d never realized he could do. He didn’t need to play the hand he’d been dealt. He could say yes or say no. He had the power, and now it reached beyond letting Todd hang a picture in the hallway or holding him down against the bed.
Andy was eager to live this new reality, and it was with those thoughts of change and control that he poured a dollop of lube into his hand and reached between his stomach and the sheets. He made a tight fist around his length and started to pump his hips. Andy fucked his hand, coming hard and quick while thinking about a nameless and faceless man taking instruction and letting Andy pummel him raw.
After he came, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling until his eyes turned heavy and he fell asleep dreaming of Paris.
2
Leonidas
Leonidas stared up at the peeling paint on the ceiling of his flat. It was morning, late morning judging by the angle of the sunlight pouring in through his open window, and the air was thick with the threat of rain. He rolled onto his side and squinted until the tops of the buildings outside came into focus, then with a sigh, he kicked off the blankets and got out of bed.
His head hurt. It wasn’t a glaring feeling, but more of a dull throb that settled behind his eyes he was certain had more to do with how late he’d stayed up and less with how much wine he’d drank. He still had four unopened bottles of merlot on the counter and one that he’d had one drink of last night before deciding to fall asleep instead.
Leonidas had been in Paris for almost a month. He’d spent a few nights at a hotel and had been wandering around looking for a bakery, which he’d found, where he met a man named Alain in line. Alain was like an older, crankier, more French version of Leonidas, and after they got bread and coffee, they’d walked together back to the studio and living space Alain had owned since the sixties.
They talked and Alain had offered him use of the studio space and the upstairs flat for the next month for twelve hundred euro. He’d accepted, gone back to his hotel to collect his things, then paid Alain and moved in. He’d been there ever since, and it was the first time he thought he might want to stay awhile.
Leonidas had always been a wanderer.
The youngest of three, he had two older sisters, Aeliana and Penelope, and he grew up being doted on by both of them. His curly black hair had been braided and glittered, and one time Penelope had taken a chunk out of it with their mama’s sewing scissors because she was angry with him for something he couldn’t even remember anymore.
He loved to travel, but sometimes he missed his family. Aeliana was pregnant, and she had spent the past four months begging him to come back home before her son was born, and he’d batted her off with some degree of success, but as her due date approached, she got more insistent.
Even now, he could hear his mobile phone, which he hated, vibrating away in the junk drawer in the kitchen. The buzzing stopped, and he closed his eyes, groaning when it picked up another call again. Leonidas kicked the sheets away and got up, powering on his kettle before digging his phone out of the drawer. He accepted the call and hit the speaker button.
“Aeliana,” he greeted.
“You sound like you’re not happy to hear from me.”
Leonidas could picture her pout.
“I’m always happy to hear from you,” he assured her. “It’s just early.”
“It’s almost lunch!”
Leonidas yawned and scooped a heaping mound of instant coffee into his mug, then poured boiling water from his kettle on top of it. He stirred the brew, blinking slowly and trying to pull the room into focus.
“Is this your standard come home phone call?” He took a small drink of coffee.
“Of course. I just want you to tell