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The only thing Adam disliked more than shopping was shopping for gifts. He promised himself that he would pick the first card he saw at the store and call it a day, but Adam was paralyzed by the paradox of choice.
Harlan’s birthday was coming up and he wanted a nice card to go with the fancy hat Adam had gotten him, but he was having trouble differentiating all the text, pictures, and colors swirling before his eyes, everything blurring into nonsensical excess. That’s when he noticed a man wearing a dachshund-print shirt sharing the aisle with him.
“Hello,” the man said with a casual nod.
Adam turned away from him and faced the wall of cards, his body tensing.
“Not fond of eye contact, are you?”
“Not fond of strangers,” Adam corrected.
The man laughed, picking out an apology-themed card from the kiosk.
“My business partner is pissed at me so I’m trying to find a way to say I’m sorry.”
“Why are they mad at you?” Adam found himself asking, intrigued by the stranger’s story.
“Wouldn’t you fucking like to know?”
“Yes, that’s why I asked. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
The man took a deep breath.
“Why are you here, then?”
Adam tried to look busy by grazing over the birthday section again, feeling anxious from being put on the spot.
“M-My friend’s birthday is coming up—on the 16th—and I wanted to find a card for him. In the past my father usually took care of this kind of stuff, but not this year.”
“How come?”
“He died six weeks ago.”
“Fuck.” The man’s expression shifted when he heard Adam’s admission. “My condolences.”
“Thanks.”
“Name’s Nigel by the way. Nice to meet you…”
“Adam.”
“Nice to meet you, Adam,” Nigel repeated to himself. “Would you like some assistance?”
“Oh, um…”
Before Adam could deny the offer, Nigel quickly added, “What’s your friend into? What sort of things does he like?”
“He likes to fix things, watch classic movies, and listen to jazz. Oh, and he also collects cigars.”
“Sounds like a distinguished man. Is he your partner, Adam?”
“Harlan is my closest friend. He was in the service with my father.”
Something akin to relief washed over Nigel’s face.
“I was just curious as to why you’re doing this by yourself. Seems like an activity you could do with a partner.”
Adam was confused for a second time.
“You mean a romantic partner? If that’s what you mean, then no, I’m not currently dating anyone right now.”
Nigel grinned like the Cheshire cat.
“Tell me more about your friend, Adam.”
“Well, Harlan’s the anchor in his bowling league and he goes fishing every third Saturday of the month, except when there’s rain. When it rains, he usually takes care of errands or hangs out with me. And we try to have dinner together at least once a week.”
Nigel took a step towards Adam and scanned a row of cards, suddenly dawning a crooked smile with fanged teeth. He then handed Adam a card with a fishing pole on it, the text reading: ‘I hope you have a reel-y good birthday.’
Adam stared Nigel dead in the eyes and simply said, “No.”
“What? It’s a joke.”
“I’m not convinced this is actually funny.”
“Okay, go fucking find a better card then.”
Adam’s smile fell. “Can you help me? But it has to be better than this one. Harlan is important to me.”
“So demanding,” Nigel quipped with a wink, cozying up to the other man’s overreactions almost too easily.
“I don’t know how to control it sometimes—I’m on the spectrum.”
“You’re on the what, now?”
“The autism spectrum.” Adam let out a sigh of frustration. “It’s uh, sometimes it’s hard for me to… I don’t know what people are thinking most of the time.”
“That fucking makes two of us.”
His eyes grew to the size of saucers.
“You’re on the spectrum too?”
“No, but I don’t know what people are thinking most of the time either. Hence why my business partner hates me.”
Adam figured he should probably ask the stranger more about his situation.
“What is your business partner like? Maybe I can help you pick out a card too.”
“You wanna fucking help me find a card when you can’t pick one out yourself?”
“I thought I’d at least try and return the favor,” Adam answered shyly, lifting his shoulders.
“How about this: I help you find an acceptable card for your friend and you give me your number?”
“Is that a fair exchange?”
“Sure it is. I help you, you help me.”
“How does it help you?”
“Because I want your number so I can take you out sometime.”
“Wait, are you asking me out on a date?”
Nigel shrugged.
“What would you say if I did?”
“I’d say it better be a really nice card, then. Oh, and Nigel?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you like to join Harlan and I for his birthday dinner on the 16th?”
Nigel chuckled at the innocent invitation.
“Will your friend Harlan be okay with that?”
“I’ll have to ask him, but I’d like you to be there. If you can make it.”
“I’d be fucking honored, darling.”
—
For the first time in a long while, Nigel was nervous. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he changed into a new button-up shirt and dress slacks. He groaned at the pretentious attempt to impress Adam. It was supposed to be a simple dinner with a stranger and his friend, but it had turned into the most nerve-wracking first date of Nigel’s life.
Arriving a few minutes early on the notion that Adam was a timely person, he was surprised to see an equally nervous man standing on the other side of the door. Adam was wearing a mustard sweater layered over a dress shirt with brown trousers, his hair perfectly tousled in place.
“You’re early,” he said eagerly.
“Guess I am.” Nigel scratched the back of his head. “Here.”
He gently pushed an elegant wooden box against Adam’s chest.
“What is it?” Adam inquired with a curious smile, moving to the side so Nigel could enter.
“For your friend. You said he liked cigars, and I am also a cigar aficionado.”
“Thank you Nigel, that’s very thoughtful of you.”
Adam was genuinely touched by the gesture.
“No problem. Smells good in here,” Nigel noted, taking in the scent of pan-seared steak and fresh garden vegetables. He hadn’t eaten a proper home-cooked meal since the split with Gabi, so it was stirring up strong emotions in him.
“I usually eat the same thing every day, chicken, broccoli, mac and cheese, but Harlan’s favorite food is steak so I cook it for him on his birthday. We’ve made it an annual tradition for the past two years.”
“Does that mean you’ll make me steak on my birthday?”
“Okay.”
A tinge of possessiveness flushed through Nigel’s body as he imagined the idea in his head. Adam would soon come to find out how Nigel liked to stake a claim in everything his hands touched, but he would swallow his pride for now.
Adam then opened the fridge door and pulled out a slightly unleveled cake.
“Do you think you could help me with the frosting?”
Nigel’s eyes shot open at the odd request.
“Sure, but I’m no fucking artist.”
“It doesn’t have to be art, it just has to cover the top of the cake.”
Adam handed him a jar of frosting and a wooden spoon while he stacked smaller tubes of colorful icing onto a corner of the table. Like an oaf, Nigel slathered on the frosting in one long streak, stripping off part of the cake in the process.
“Oops.”
“It’s okay, just add more frosting to it,” Adam directed, pointing to the large fracture caused by Nigel.
Nigel nodded and decided to use a steel spoon to scrape off the excess frosting from the wooden one, his heart beaming when Adam infiltrated his personal space to squeeze blue icing around the edges. He also tried to spell out ‘Happy b-day Harlan’, but the letters ran together and spilled outside of the lines like a child had written it.
“That’s not aesthetically pleasing at all,” Adam huffed defeatedly. “What do you think Nigel?”
“We’ll turn it into a Jackson Pollock cake.”
Adam’s face brightened at the art reference, not knowing it was because Nigel had once heisted a Jackson Pollock painting from a museum for a client.
“Like this Adam,” Nigel instructed, taking one of the tubes and drizzling the icing in calculated bursts, layering lines over one another like an actual painting. His rough handiwork showed at least a rudimentary understanding of design, despite Nigel’s self-deprecating digs.
Adam watched Nigel in awe and enthusiastically followed his example, laughing genuinely for the first time since his father had passed.
Nigel warmed at the sight, raising the wooden spoon and angling it towards Adam with a smile.
“No thank you,” Adam rebuked, shaking his hands at the offer.
“Come on, Adam. Don’t waste food.”
Nigel pressed him for a second time, the spoon now pointing at Adam’s mouth.
He glared at Nigel with indignation as he licked off some of the icing, face twitching at the taste.
“Too sweet.”
Nigel shrugged and finished off the rest of the frosting, his eyes never leaving Adam’s lips. At his core, Nigel was just peacocking so Adam knew what his tongue was capable of.
A symphony of knocks interrupted the intimate moment; Adam rushing to the door to welcome his friend, which sparked a bout of jealousy in Nigel’s gut. He had to forcefully bite it down when they hugged each other, Harlan patting Adam’s back and repeating “it’s good to see you” in a tender voice.
He then caught Nigel’s eyes. “Harlan.”
“Hello,” Nigel greeted him, trying to sound as neutral as possible. “Nigel.”
“All right now,” Harlan said as he turned to Adam. “Is this the man you were telling me about?”
“Yes, and he brought you a gift.”
“You got me a gift?” Harlan asked Nigel directly, pointing at himself in confusion.
Nigel attempted to keep his composure.
“It’s not considered polite to accept a dinner invitation empty-handed, and Adam said you were a dear friend, so…”
“You know Adam like that?”
The question unraveled Nigel further.
“No, but I’d like to know him better.”
When Nigel tried to hand off the wooden case to Harlan, he shook his head and raised a palm in protest.
“Nah. I can’t accept that, but it’s very kind of you.”
Nigel didn’t like the idea of being rejected, so he tried again.
“Please, I insist. When Adam told me you were interested in cigars, I was ecstatic that someone else enjoyed this niche hobby as much as I do.”
“That’s fine, but these are a vintage blend. I know they go for a pretty penny.”
“Suitable for a man of your distinguished taste, I should hope. Happy birthday.”
Harlan laughed, the sound lodged halfway between disbelief and cognizance.
“I appreciate that.”
He finally accepted the box from Nigel and carefully set it aside on the table.
“I got you a gift as well,” Adam announced, running to the bedroom to retrieve a sleek, navy blue box with a sealed envelope on top.
“This is too much, y’all.”
“I tried my best to find something nice that you might like. You’re like family to me and I wouldn’t have survived dad’s passing without you.”
Harlan got a bit emotional during Adam’s speech and opened the box, gasping when he saw what was inside.
“Now I’m not trying to put this on at the dinner table, but I might have to see how it fits…”
He took out the structured black wool hat with a feather plucked to the side and placed it on his head, marveling at the way it felt. It was a perfect fit, weighted but not too heavy, and the fabric was of high quality. Soft to the touch and sharp to the eye.
“Looks fantastic on you,” Nigel commented, his face heating up as soon as the words left his mouth.
“Thank you both.” Harlan opened the card and chuckled at the bad pun. “And I am having a ‘reel-y’ good birthday.”
“Nigel said that was supposed to be funny,” Adam declared defensively, unintentionally throwing Nigel under the bus with his comment.
“I said it was a joke, I didn’t necessarily say it was funny.”
Adam frowned, making Nigel and Harlan crack up in unison. Harlan tucked his hat away and joined Adam in the kitchen to help him set the table, while Nigel sat back and tried to glean what he could from their conversation.
“How did you two meet again?”
“At the store. Nigel helped me pick out that birthday card for you.”
“Uh-huh. What do you know about this man, Adam?”
“He works in sales, he’s originally from Romania, and he likes cigars.”
“So not much, is what I’m hearing.”
“This is our first date actually.”
“You’re dating this guy?”
“No, not yet.”
“Are you no longer interested in women, Adam?”
“I’m interested in them, but the gender of the person I’m dating isn’t important to me.”
Harlan was stunned.
“Never told me anything. Did your dad know?”
“It hadn’t come up in conversation before, and you never asked. Dad never asked either.”
“I’m alright with it, Adam. I just want to make sure you’re not dating a psychopath.”
“Well it’s too late, he knows where I live now,” Adam muttered with a loose smile, quickly adding, “That was also supposed to be a joke. You know how I am with jokes, Harlan.”
“If he ever bothers you or makes you feel uncomfortable, you call me Adam. You hear me?”
Adam nodded obediently. “Yes.”
“And you remember those self-defense moves I taught you, right? Better brush up on ‘em, this fella looks like he can put up a fight.”
While Nigel was offended Harlan thought he would harm Adam, he was also relieved to hear he looked like he could hold his own. He had even purposely omitted product from his hair to appear more friendly, though it had apparently been for naught.
Following their brief conversation, Harlan and Adam walked out of the kitchen carrying plates of food; Harlan with two and Adam with one. Nigel once again concealed his intimidation when Harlan placed a medley of steak, potatoes, and asparagus in front of him.
“Here you go, Nigel.”
“Thank you,” Nigel said, graciously accepting the food and eyeing Adam in his peripheral vision.
“So Adam told me you were in sales. What kind of sales?”
Nigel considered all the possible ways he could answer the question. He could be discreet and lie by omission, only saying what needed to be said. Or he could be brutally honest and mark himself as a pariah to two strangers. In the end, he decided to keep it low-key.
“Whatever’s in high demand.”
“And that means what, exactly?” Harlan asked, his questions coming off like an interrogation rather than a conversation.
“High-profile clients send me requests, and I fulfill them.”
“I see. Do you often experience workplace incidents in your line of duty?”
“Not really, no. While it’s happened a few times, it’s a rare occurrence, I can assure you.”
Harlan acknowledged Nigel with a nod.
“All I’m saying is, don’t bring that around here.”
“I would never.”
At least, Nigel would try his best not to.
“Good. So what made you wanna show up here on a Saturday night to celebrate a stranger’s birthday with another stranger?”
“Well, like I said before, I wanted to become more acquainted with Adam.”
“Why?” Harlan’s eyes narrowed on Nigel as he studied his movements like a hawk.
“I find Adam to be very intriguing. And charming and handsome too, of course.”
Although he tried to hide it, Adam’s face was glowing.
“A lot of people get swept up in Adam’s good looks and charm, but it takes more than that to make a relationship work. He has specific needs.”
“I’m aware, and it doesn’t bother me. Adam already told me about his spectrum thingy.”
Harlan nodded with what seemed to be approval, his hardened eyes finally softening a little.
“Just looking out for my good friend’s son. I hope you understand.”
“I do. I think it’s nice to know that someone is looking out for you in this world.”
They ate the rest of their dinner in companionable silence for the most part, aside from Nigel asking Harlan about his time in the service and regaling in his “back in my day” stories. The two men found they had a lot more in common than they initially thought, which eased some of the tension at the table.
After their plates were emptied, Adam enthusiastically suggested, “Is it time for dessert?”
“Dessert?” Harlan exclaimed, head tilting questionably. “What have you got planned, Adam?”
“It’s just homemade cake, but Nigel helped me decorate it. Wanna see?”
When Adam brought it out to the table, Harlan immediately burst into a fit of laughter; his tone amiable and not mean-spirited in the slightest.
“Oh Lord. You got him doing all that, Nigel?”
“Like Jackson Pollock, you know? Hey, it’s the thought that counts.” Nigel tried to contend his art direction, though he knew it was messy at best and a failed wine painting class at worst.
“Yeah, I know who Jackson Pollock is. I appreciate the effort.” He then turned to Adam. “Your dad would be proud.”
Adam had to stare into space to prevent himself from spilling tears, though he was elated to hear that coming from Harlan. He carefully cut three equal slices and dispersed them amongst the table, happy to see both men finish their cake. At the end of dinner, Harlan let out an exasperated sigh and patted his stomach for comedic effect.
“That was a fine meal, Adam. I’m stuffed. But I have to get going soon if I want to stay awake for the drive back. You two gonna be alright if I leave you alone?”
Nigel raised his eyebrows suggestively while Adam nodded innocently. It was undeniable that the two had already formed a strange connection; polar opposites magnetized to one another.
“Alright,” Harlan started, gathering his things. “I’ll be on my way then. I look forward to indulging myself in one of these nice cigars and a glass of cognac when I get home.”
“Are you going to wear your new hat as well?” Adam joked, getting a reaction out of Harlan.
“You got the right idea.” He then pulled Adam in for a hug and shook Nigel’s hand firmly. “Behave yourselves. Good night.”
Harlan waved them off, leaving Adam and Nigel to their own devices. Nigel didn’t want to make things too awkward, so he began cleaning up the dinner table with Adam soon following after him.
“Hey, thanks for coming by the way,” Adam quickly mumbled, his ears turning red. “I think Harlan likes you.”
“Really? How can you tell?” Nigel sneered as he placed another dirty plate into the dishwasher.
“If he didn’t like you, he’d just tell you. He’s a lot like me in that way.”
“I like him as well, but I’m not sure he’s happy with the idea of us… you know.”
“The idea of us what?”
“Going out or whatever you fucking call it. I’ve never met a father who was happy to learn that I was dating their daughter, and I don’t blame them.”
“Why not?”
“I’m kind of… wild, Adam.”
“Wild? As in…”
“As in I’m fucking crazy.”
Nigel had never, ever, in his life put the cards on the table like this, but he figured since Adam was sans bullshit, he could just be honest with him. There was no need for mind games this time, because Adam would find out eventually, and Nigel’s heart couldn’t handle another heartbreak.
“My ex-girlfriend called me crazy once, so maybe I’m crazy too.”
“You?” Nigel’s face was ensconced in skepticism.
“She was kind of mean, though. I’m glad we’re not together anymore.”
“Well, fuck her. Don’t take that literally, Adam. But I’m glad you two aren’t together anymore because I like you.”
His hand inched closer to Adam’s, a finger gently stroking at his knuckles.
“I like you too.”
Instead of responding verbally, Adam closed his eyes. Nigel laughed and brought their lips together, his hands memorizing and tracing an internal map of Adam’s facial lines.
Adam’s hand caressed Nigel’s, his body responding positively to the touch. Nigel let Adam’s fingers sink into his, nipping at his bottom lip playfully. He was both appalled and thrilled by how Adam made him feel like a lovestruck fool.
With that in mind, Nigel let himself go, restless hands roaming all over Adam with no reservation. He had a lithe but muscular figure that drove Nigel’s mind in circles, soft yet firm in all the right places. Their bodies fit together like a ceramic pot that had undergone the delicate process of kintsugi*.
Nigel lifted Adam’s shirt, trailing kisses from his neck to his chest, lapping circles around his nipples. Adam moaned unceremoniously, his body melting under the weight of Nigel’s.
Biting his lip anxiously, he asked, “Are you excited, Nigel? Sexually? I ask because I am, and I’m wondering if you are, too.”
The older man lifted his head incredulously, his hair twisted into all manner of uncomfortable positions and his mouth swollen like a puffer fish.
“Can’t you tell?”
“No, that’s why I asked.”
“Fucking yes, Adam. Fucking meaning I currently fucking am and fucking will be pretty much anytime I’m around you. Is that clear enough?” Nigel muffled any further dissertations from him with his lips, though he’d miscalculated Adam’s ability to have the last word.
“You curse a lot.”
“What fucking of it?”
“Nothing,” Adam teased back in a petulant tone, causing Nigel to grumble more obscenities into his neck.
“You do that on purpose, don’t you?”
“Do what on purpose?”
Nigel pulled back, breaking for air as he undressed Adam with his eyes. “The innocent act. You’re not.” Kiss. “Fucking.” Kiss. “Fooling me.”
Adam arched his back and pressed into Nigel, grinding their bodies together with a pout sitting beautifully on the edge of his lips. Nigel had his answer right there and then.
He dragged Adam from room to room until he found his bed, throwing the younger man on top of it with a dominating growl. Adam’s eyes darkened as he propped himself up on the back of his elbows and watched Nigel disrobe. He was ripped. Sculpted like a statue. Nigel clearly spent a lot of time working on his body, and Adam was intoxicated at the sight of it.
When Nigel noticed all eyes were on him, he hungrily climbed on top of Adam and wove him out of his clothes, licking, stroking, and caressing every inch of available skin.
“Darling, do you have lube or something?”
“In the nightstand.”
Nigel nodded and hopped off the bed; rendered speechless when he opened the drawer. It was immaculately organized, everything having a place and appearing to be sanitized to the highest grade imaginable, but there were a lot of objects inside the nightstand. A lot.
“I fucking knew it, you’re not as innocent as you make yourself out to be.” Nigel scooped up a handful of purple silicone and silver plastic, exclaiming, “What does this do? And what are these for?!”
“I could show you…”
Nigel’s jaw tightened as he dropped all the items back into the drawer, refocusing on the original task at hand.
“Maybe later. I’d prefer we do it the old fashioned way our first time.”
He grabbed the lube and slammed the drawer shut, kneeling at the edge of the bed to coax Adam’s legs open. Adam’s skin was unbelievably soft, feeling like pure silk under Nigel’s fingers as a hot tongue swiped at Adam’s entrance. The younger man emitted a high-pitched noise of approval, allowing Nigel the freedom to explore deeper. Soon, Nigel was slipping his tongue in and out of him as he worked a fist around Adam’s swollen member, only pulling away when he noticed his toes beginning to curl.
Nigel quickly coated his fingers and massaged circles into Adam, a finger sliding inside the velvety crease. Then two, followed by three. Adam moaned louder this time, bucking his hips against the budding friction, his entire body inflamed in heat; pulsating. Nigel slicked himself down and lined up against Adam’s eager hole, nearly blacking out when he breached the surface.
Adam was tight, Adam was warm, Adam was home.
Nigel’s eyes drew closed as he held himself in place, now fully connected with the other man. He waited an achingly long time before making a move, much too enthralled by how it felt to be surrounded by Adam.
Once Nigel broke out of the trance, he began thrusting aggressively into him and finally set a pace they could both work with. Adam’s legs wrapped around Nigel, drawing him closer while he stroked himself to the rhythm of Nigel’s shallow breathing. The only sounds that echoed through the room were Nigel’s animalistic grunts and Adam reeling from his muscles contracting, indicating euphoria was just beyond the horizon.
“Fuck!”
Jerking forward one last time, Nigel collapsed on top of Adam, bringing the younger man to completion as well. They laid together afterwards, a sweaty mess of limbs and hair, body and soul forever entangled by a single encounter. Nigel then reluctantly peeled himself off Adam and rolled onto his side, yowling into the air as a man possessed.
“Nigel?”
“Hmm?” Nigel turned over again, swaddling Adam with his body like a well-tailored suit.
“Do you think your business partner will like the card we picked out for him?”
“Fuck no,” Nigel stated bluntly, biting Adam’s neck with great affection. “I think we might have to get a whole new card. Something that says I’m sorry—but also explains what we just did.”
“Where can we find a card like that?”
“We won’t. But I think if you baked him one of your world famous cakes, it would suffice.”
—
*Kintsugi - Kintsugi, also known as kintsukuroi, is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum; the method is similar to the maki-e technique.