A Boy Called Cin (5 page)

Tom blushes. When he found out that the place Cin had been going for his shift—his
volunteer
shift—was the local animal shelter, he'd wanted to help out. He hadn't really counted on Cin figuring out it was him, though. "I, umm. I guessed it was important to you and, y'know, you're the one who has charity issues."

"Animals are a slightly different case than people. Besides, it'll look good on my resume," Cin says defensively. Tom can tell there's more to it than that, and stays quiet in the hopes that he'll shed some light on it.

"I'm really allergic to animals," Cin continues. "I can't keep one of my own. But I can go hang out with them once a week and do design work for the shelter for free and answer phones, and it's as close as I can get. It seemed like a good way to fulfill two needs at once."

"That's okay, I'm terrified of dogs. If you ever need someone to curl up with, though…"

"You'll come running if I call your name?" Cin raises an eyebrow.

"I…" Tom hesitates. He would. Cin could call him any time and as long as he wasn't legally obliged to be somewhere else, he'd go to him. He likes spending time with him that much, and he feels like an idiot for it. "I was thinking more along the lines of I like cuddles. But if you ever feel like you need me around, I'll come. Not a lot of people have my private number, y'know?"

Cin swallows, but then brightens up and grins at Tom. "I'll remember that if ever I feel the need to make a cross-country booty call. Can we climb into the back and make out a while now?"

"I'd be disappointed if we didn't." Tom grins back.

*~*~*

Tom checks his watch for what feels like the hundredth time so far this evening, wondering if twenty minutes is long enough to stay at a gala where you're one of the guests of honor. In theory, he only has to smile and nod at people while they talk to him—there's no speech-giving tonight—but he's already halfway through his second glass of champagne and knows he's running the risk of getting drunk and making an ass of himself.

"Tom!" A graying man who Tom recognizes, but can't place, approaches him, smiling broadly. "You're not alone tonight, are you? There's usually some pretty thing or other on your arm. Struck out?"

Tom fights the urge to wrinkle his nose at the guy describing the people he takes to events like this as 'pretty things'. To him, they've been friends, lovers, and necessary social crutches; never
things
. Pretty, sure. Tom's got a weakness for pretty, and a broad definition of it, too. That doesn't make any of them not people, though.

"I'm not seeing anyone at the moment. Guess I'm getting too old for a new partner every week," Tom says as pleasantly as he can, hoping he can get himself out of this before he lets on that he's uncomfortable. It's one thing to be pathetic in social situations, but it's another thing entirely for that to be public knowledge.

Tom's not sure it quite counts as irony that the world sees him as a being composed of pure charisma when he's actually a little terrified of this guy whose name he's forgotten, but it's close enough.

"It's your fortieth today, isn't it?" the guy asks. Tom nods, wincing at the reminder. Forty years on Earth, and he's trying to hide in the corner at what amounts to his birthday party—though that's not really what it's for, he knows Poppy didn't pick the day by accident—wishing he was anywhere else.

Well, not
anywhere
else. His first choice would be back in Cin's dorm room, being reassured that forty isn't that old and he's not a total idiot for chasing after someone completely out of his league. There'd be grocery store cake and chocolate-flavored kisses and Cin would curl up next to him again and whisper "happy birthday" just before they fell asleep.

"Uh, yeah." Tom realizes too late that he'd forgotten to answer. "Look at that, my brain's going already," he jokes, stomach tied in knots over his lapse in politeness.

"I'll leave you in peace, then," the guy says, raising his glass in a half-hearted salute, but not obviously insulted or anything. Plenty of people think Tom's kind of a weirdo already, so at least he's not setting a precedent by zoning out.

Poppy finally arrives in her usual fashion, making an entrance befitting the sequined dress she's wearing—custom-made, as always at these events—and slowly making her way through the crowd to find
the birthday boy
, as she keeps telling everyone. Tom stays where he is and lets all of the attention fall on her, grateful that for the next few minutes at least, he won't be the most interesting person in the room, and then after, he won't be alone anymore.

His phone buzzes in his pocket just before Poppy gets to him, and Tom checks it automatically. His stomach flutters when he sees a text from Cin's number that just reads
Happy Birthday
.

It's not quite a close-up whisper before bed, but it helps. Tom sends a
thank you
back.

Just as he's about to tuck his phone back in his pocket so Poppy doesn't confiscate it, he gets another text.

I owe you birthday sex
.

Tom laughs nervously and shoves his phone in his suit pocket quickly so there's no risk that Poppy will read it. It's nice to have Cin as something he gets to keep to himself, and he doesn't really want to share him right now. Otherwise, he would have asked him to come to this with him. Tom's got no doubt that people would love Cin, and Cin might be a lot better at this kind of thing that Tom is.

"You look like you're having a wonderful time," Poppy says, clearly not serious. She leans in for a hug and whispers in Tom's ear, "I'll help you sneak away in half an hour, okay?"

Tom's head swims with relief and he nods at her. "You look amazing, as always."

Poppy chuckles and takes Tom's hand. "Come eat something; you won't have to talk so much then."

It's nice to have his baby sister take care of him sometimes, too.

*~*~*

What're you doing for summer?

Tom pauses before he sends the text. He's got it all planned: he's gonna ask Cin to spend the summer with him in Oregon. Mansions in California always seemed a little cliché, but he found a place tucked away in the woods, not so far from the ocean a year back that he fell in love with. Most of the work it needed had been done by the previous owner, so now it was just painting and minor repairs, which he wanted to do himself.

Cin could paint and go for walks on the beach or in the woods or whatever else he wanted.

It's a ridiculous fantasy, but it's a fantasy he can make happen. He's never wanted anything as stupid or indulgent before and he figures he's got every right to it, as long as Cin agrees. The text takes a second to send and then it's out there, waiting for Cin to reply.

Working. Know any places under $300/month in town?

Is this important work?

Tom wouldn't take Cin away from anything important. He'd spend the summer there instead. There were some nice places near campus he could rent. Two bedrooms, so it wasn't weird.

Important in that I'll starve if I don't work
.

Dude, you're dating a guy with more money than God
.

Tom wants to swallow the words back as soon as the text sends. They're probably not dating and he knows Cin doesn't care about the money and he doesn't really want him thinking about it, either, because he knows that's the thing he'll struggle to get over. It was the worst possible text he could have sent.

I was unaware we were dating.

Yeah, that's it. That was exactly what he expected to hear, and now Cin was never going to be comfortable around him again because he's a needy, clingy asshole.

I'm not opposed, I'm just surprised,
Cin clarifies with a second text
.

Are you telling people we're dating?

A guilty flush heats Tom's face.

Maybe one or two people?

Mostly he'd just been telling people he
had
met someone, thank you, so they could stop trying to get him to date again. Apparently telling one person he was single for five minutes had been enough to make his love life everyone’s problem—including a few gossip columns that had nothing better to report on. They were probably tired of him not doing anything
else
they could talk about. It was lucky they didn’t know about the much-younger man he was about to invite to spend the summer with him.

You're adorable
.

Tom grins down at his phone. Cin called him adorable. He's pretty sure no one's ever called him that before. Not seriously, anyway.

Why I was asking was I have a place by the beach. I'd like to take you.

Seriously?

This was going way better than he'd expected. Maybe Cin liked him almost as much as Tom liked Cin.

Seriously. I'll email you details later and you can decide.

*~*~*

"What have you done?" Poppy asks as soon as she answers the phone.

"Would you believe nothing?" Tom winces. Poppy knows him too well, and to be fair, there's a better than even chance that on any single occasion, he's done something recently that he needs to confess to her.

"No. You never call me during the day unless you've done something or there's been a disaster. Since I'm not hearing about it on the national news, I assume you've done something."

"You think all my disasters make the national news?" Tom would be hurt, but it's Poppy. He knows she loves him.

"More or less. Still avoiding the question."

"I may have invited, uh. That boy I was telling you about? To stay with me over the summer. And now I'm not sure if it was stupid. I mean, I really want to spend the summer with him because I like him a lot, but wow am I not a good person to suddenly live with. I can't exactly take it back now, either. I'm gonna scare him off forever."

Poppy makes a sympathetic noise. "He's
half your age
. But I know you like him, because you never shut up about him and you're offering to share your baby."

"How did you know?" He hadn't said anything about inviting Cin to the new house, and he was pretty sure he hadn't even mentioned that he was thinking about spending the summer there.

"You want to impress the pretty art student. Where else would you take him?"

"That's… Yeah. That's fair." Tom sighs. "I'm still gonna screw this up."

"Did he agree?" Poppy asks patiently.

"Yeah, kinda. I said I'd email him the address and stuff and he could decide."

Tom still wanted Cin to say yes, that he'd come and spend the summer with him, and it'd be a ridiculous, over-the-top beginning to a great long-term relationship because yeah, he
really
likes Cin. He can't even put his finger on why. There's just something about him that Tom wants to stick close to.

"Then when he says yes—which he probably will—everything will be fine. You're not actually that hard to live with. I imagine you're even easier to live with for people who're attracted to you. I definitely find the company of attractive people a lot more fun."

"I know," Tom laughs. Poppy isn't shy about telling people exactly what she thinks of them and choosing her friends. He still thinks she'd like Cin. He hopes so, because it could be awkward as hell if she doesn't. "Hey, thanks."

"Any time. I'm coming up for a few days to meet him."

It's pretty obvious that this isn't a question and nothing Tom might say could stop Poppy from going through with it. Not that he'd want to. He'd hate to get to the point where his sister felt like she needed an invitation to his home, or even permission to come and go as she liked. She'd been his whole world when they were kids, and part of him still feels that way.

"Then I guess I'll see you over the summer, if not before. I'd like before, if I get a vote."

"I'll be back in New York next week. We'll catch up, if you're not off wooing art students the whole time." The laughter in Poppy's voice is infectious. She might not be automatically approving of Cin, but she's obviously happy that Tom's happy. Which is all he'd really ask for.

*~*~*

"This is the most unnecessary house I've ever seen," Cin says as he gets out of the mid-nineties station wagon it turns out he drives. Tom's surprised he actually has a car, but it seems like everything he owns in the world is packed into it. He decides not to mention the conclusions he's drawn about Cin's family over that, because none of them are overly charitable and he's determined to make this a great summer.

"You say that
now
, but when we adopt six kids…"

"And here I thought you were bringing me out here to bear you an heir in secret." Cin sighs dramatically and closes the few feet of distance between him and Tom, tugging him down to kiss him. "I'm a little disappointed."

"Well, I still owe you at least a half-dozen orgasms, so that'll kill an hour."

"I'm going to hold you to that." Cin takes Tom's hand firmly and swings it between them.

Tom tugs on his hand to lead him up to the house. He's made up a bedroom upstairs for him that looks out over the ocean and lets the sun in in the afternoon, so Cin can do all the sleeping in he wants. He took the bedroom next to it for himself in a moment of clinginess, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He doesn't want to
use
Cin as a source of light in his life, but Cin kind of happens to be one and he's reluctant to give that up.

"I bought this a little over a year ago. I don't usually do million-dollar impulse buys, but…" Tom waves at the house. His intention was to convey that he's not in the habit of just buying houses, but he's probably made it sound like throwing money around is just a way of life. In reality, his personal funds are all just collecting interest. What do you even spend that kind of money on?

"It's your money." Cin squeezes his hand. "You're allowed to enjoy it. I mean, I could go on an anti-capitalist rant if you want, but it wouldn't change anything and I don't hate you for being wealthy. I hate the system, but there's not a whole lot any one person can do about it."

Tom laughs. "For a self-proclaimed bleeding-heart liberal, you're being awfully nice to a one-percenter."