Page 40 of Sweet Thing

CHAPTER 19

TAKE MY TIP

“LET YOURSELF IN!” Simeon hollered, as he leaned out of the window and dropped his door keys down four stories, narrowly missing Bastian.

“OOPS! SORRY!” This was not a good start to the date. It was nine p.m. precisely. And although the date was definitely not a booty call, Simeon wanted to look temptingly fuckable, even if it wasn’t on tonight’s agenda. He scurried to the full-length mirror by the front door and gave himself a once over. Navy Denims gripped his long willowy legs, and a short-sleeved silk/linen mix shirt draped over Sim’s slender, toned torso. As always, he was barefoot at home. Simeon preened a few unruly strands of his dark mop of fringe back into place.

Bastian knocked on the apartment front door, even though he had the key. Simeon appreciated the gesture. He opened the door, and the first thing that hit him was the enquiring, tender look in Bastian’s eyes. Those steely blue eyes made Sim feel soft and giddy inside. Bastian had three days worth of blond stubble framing his chiseled jaw. It made a work of art of his flushed pink lips. Simeon was frozen to the spot.

“Well… you can invite me in, or we talk at the door, yes?” Bastian queried in a deeply accented baritone, his lips curving slowly to a cute, crooked smile.

Simeon couldn’t resist. He lurched forward and offered a quick peck to Bastian’s mouth.

The simple greeting surprised Bastian. He’d anticipated a peck on each cheek, not a kiss on the mouth. He brushed his thumb along his bottom lip, enjoying the tingle.

“Uhh, Come in… please”, Sim choked out, backing away from the door.

Bastian entered the apartment, closing the door behind him. The last time he’d been here things had ended badly. This time will be different, Bast promised himself. “I have something for you,” he said, reaching into the inner pocket of his gray suit jacket and retrieving Simeon’s Polaroid titled ‘New York’s in Love.' He handed the photo over.

“Thanks”, Sim glanced hungrily at the Polaroid then turned on light feet and strode towards the lounge. Bastian followed and entered the room looking up at Simeon’s Space Oddity wall, expecting to see a crazy array of images showing Simeon’s ex-fucks and fashion celebrity selfies. However, the strings and pegs had all been stripped of their photographs. A shoebox containing Polaroid’s of Simeon’s cock-and-ass collection was on the floor by the wall, and the other sketches, poetry, and notes were in disarray.

“Sorry about the mess.”

“Oh… are you decorating?” Bastian enquired, his eyes glancing over the pictorial depiction of Simeon’s hedonism.

“Noh! I’m simplifying my life. I just decided it’s time for a new chapter. All of this is not me anymore”, Simeon explained, gesticulating with a wave of his hand at the array of images scattered on the floor. He gazed at the Polaroid Bastian just returned, stunned at just how emaciated, naive and smitten that younger, drugged version of himself had looked.

“Thank you for bringing this back. It has great sentimental value”, Simeon admitted, placing the Polaroid with a line of photos on the dining table. The photos were of all the people he cared about, and they numbered fifteen souls. Simeon found it strange that a few years ago having such a small number of people in his life would have been horrifying to him. However, Sim learned that popularity was overrated. Having one-hundred-thousand Twitter followers meant nothing in the real world. This group of fifteen people was more valuable than he could put into words.

“Everything in my life has been pared back in the last few years. I have only a handful of true friends that I love. I don’t party anymore, and the people in the shoebox are nothing. I don’t need reminders of my past indiscretions in my face all the time. Eventually, we all need to grow up and turn a page,” Simeon explained sagely as he arranged the photographs of his loved ones on the table.

Bastian was taken by how relevant that statement was for him too. Like Simeon, he was on the cusp of turning a page and seeking a new life.

Sim drew his gaze from the photographs and moved it to his handsome guest, “You know I don’t have booze or caffeine in the house. I’ve got some grape juice that looks like wine so that we could play pretend we're grown-ups,“ Simeon offered in a light, flirty timbre.

“The grape juice sounds good,” Bastian chuckled.

“Okay. Make yourself at home.”

Sim gamboled out of the room and returned with the bottle of grape juice and two wine glasses to see Bastian really had made himself at home, removing his suit jacket and shoes. He sat casually on the left side of the couch; man-spreading with an arm slung over the back. He wore gray suit trousers, a baby blue shirt, with a loosened slate-gray silk tie, and black socks. Simeon’s mouth twitched to a grin; he liked that vision of the blond thirty-four-year-old man, quite at home on his couch.

Sim poured two glasses of red grape juice and sat at the opposite end of the couch. He pulled his knees to his chest in an unconsciously defensive move.

Bastian took a sip of the grape juice and quirked “Hmmm, good vintage,” as his eyes twinkled with mischief. Simeon giggled.

“So how are you?” Sim began, his cheek casually resting against the cool leather of the couch so he could take all of Bastian in.

“I’ve acquired another building in Pankow; the paperwork went through today. It needs a lot of work, but my design team has wonderful plans”, he replied conversationally. “It’s going to be turned into a gallery to house my erotic art collection. Emily Raven’s work will have pride of place”, Bastian explained.

Simeon thought of the watercolor of Pieter that graced his bedroom wall. He didn’t think it was the right time to announce that he’d bought the painting that Bastian had so desperately wanted to acquire.

“Noh, what I meant was how are you?” Sim emphasized.

Bastian inhaled deeply. So, there would be no small talk; there never was anything ‘small’ when he and Simeon got together.

“Oh, you want to talk about feelings”, Bastian snickered. He was silent for a long moment, watching the dark eyes of the man who observed him. “Hmmm… Okay. I’m horny, confused, conflicted”, Bastian admitted, running fingertips over the stubble on his chin. His gaze locked on the dark brown eyes of the younger man and Sim looked away. That hint of shyness made Bast smile with satisfaction. He found Simeon irresistible.

“Ellie, my PA, keeps telling me to go see a therapist but—”