They read a lot, and tangled up in each other on the sofa, in the armchair, in bed.
Rocco stood behind Simon when he prayed, and wrapped arms around him when the Shabbat ended and he lit the havdalah, and he laid a hand on Simon’s chest as he sang the final blessing. Then they kissed as the flame sent shadows flickering across the walls, and Rocco drew him into the shower and spent ten minutes dragging a soapy sponge over every inch of his body.
They still didn’t get each other off, and Simon finally felt in control of himself—even at Rocco’s hands.
‘I promised you a date,’ Rocco said, flicking through Simon’s closet until he found a nice shirt and a pair of trousers. Rocco was dressed much the same—just more expensive, but Simon realized he never felt unequal with him. Not even when he was a virgin who couldn’t keep his dick under control, Rocco never made him feel less.
It was heady. And it was wonderful.
And he loved him.
He let Rocco lay him out on the bed, he opened his entire body to the man’s lazy kisses. It felt intense, and wonderful, to hold Rocco against him, to feel his mouth in unexpected places like the curve of his ribs, the hollow of his knee, the bend in his elbow. There was no destination this time, just existing together.
Eventually, Rocco propped up on his elbow and hovered over Simon, his free hand tracing lines up and down Simon’s soft belly. ‘Happy?’ he asked.
Simon’s smile was answer enough, it seemed, because Rocco leaned back in to kiss him for short, eternal seconds. Eventually they made it out the door. Rocco drove, and Simon enjoyed the cool night air on his skin, and the feeling of being somewhere new and different, even if it was just minutes from his front door.
Mangia E Zitto was still busy, even after nine, and Simon let his hand slip into his boyfriend’s as they made it inside and were shown to a table in the corner. It was dark, candle-lit, and more romantic than Simon imagined it would be.
‘I always thought fancy dates would be cheesy,’ he admitted after they ordered wine.
Rocco chuckled and shook his head. ‘They are, but that’s not a bad thing, is it?’
Simon’s grin widened. ‘No, I guess it isn’t. There’s a place for it.’
Reaching across the table, Rocco took Simon’s hand in his and rubbed his thumb over Simon’s knuckles. They locked eyes, then Rocco brought Simon’s hand up, and kissed him there. It was almost too much—but it was also just enough.
‘I wanted to tell you something,’ Rocco said after taking his hand back. ‘It’s going to sound stupid, maybe? Or…maybe not the right time? But I feel like if I don’t say it now…’
Simon’s heart leapt in his chest, and he knew—of course he knew, because Levi had made it so obvious. The love he held for Rocco was reflected right back at him in the way Rocco’s eyes locked onto his, and his mouth went soft, and the tender way he handled Simon.
And the way he made Simon feel like enough, even if he still needed work.
“Listen, asshole! I fucking see them right there and if you don’t let me in, I’m going to blast this place so hard you’ll never recover. Do you even know who I am? Do you know who I know?”
Simon’s eyes went wide and he recognized that voice. He’d never forget it. He snatched his hand from Rocco’s and turned in his seat to see Eric wavering in the alcove in front of the dining room. Eric’s eyes locked on his—half crossed, but he recognized him.
“He’s right fucking there, with his little virgin whore.”
Rocco clamped his hand on Simon’s wrist. ‘What did he say?’
‘He’s drunk,’ Simon told him. ‘He called me a virgin whore.’
“Can’t even sign properly. God, I’m not drunk, you whore. I’m pissed off!”
Simon interpreted, then started to rise, but Rocco shook his head. ‘Let me. Give me five minutes, tell the server I’m sorry.’ He dug into his pocket and took out his wallet, sliding a sleek, black card toward Simon. ‘Ask them to pack up our food.’
Simon’s heart sank, realizing that this moment—his first date since the one massive disaster that had terrified him into never looking again—was ruined. He felt cursed. The man he was in love with was currently walking his drunk ex out the door as the manager came over, looking both angry and apologetic.
“I’m sorry,”