Valspar And Fiddlesticks (BoyXBoy Love Story)

Chapter One: Lemon Juice

   "Hi,"

I looked up from the paperback I was pretending to read, seeing a blonde haired boy -- possibly early twenties -- the perfect match to the photo on his Craiglist ad., coming around my table to meet me.

"I'm Valspar." He stuck out his hand, and I almost declined it: even in public he refused to use his real name? Well, one could understand, given the nature of his online request that I delicately agreed to... Anyone would prefer to remain anonymous.

It only struck me slightly because I had hopes we would be more formal with one another in person. But perhaps as time goes by, I thought, I will care enough to ask his birth name. Until then...

"Fiddlesticks," I replied, smiling because of the awkward silence I had left in the air due to my internal contemplation, and I strongly take his hand in mine-- if only to show him what I'm capable of. To my astonishment, the boy blushed.

"Wow, um..." He stammered, looking like a cat on an island, unable to figure out how to get to the lifeboat. So, naturally, I gestured with my hand towards the booth.

"Have a seat," I told him kindly, and as he mumbled a "thank you" I picked up my glass of water (no ice, please) and took a drink, watching him from above the rim.

Assuming the glass in front of him was his own, Valspar picked it up, exclaiming almost immediately, "Aww! You remembered!"

I almost asked him what he was going on about, until he explained, in his own way: "I sure love lemons..." and just like that, he dug his fingers down into his iced water and fished out a sliver of lemon-- it was almost as nerve-racking as watching a Crane. The added weight of his hand to the water's surfaced caused the water to rise and spill all over the table.

Even though his mess was a good bit away from my placement, I quietly picked up my book and set it down beside me, to make a point.

Valspar didn't notice. He clawed and dug and spilled the water, and in my head I wondered if he had a disorder where, if he starts a project, he must finish it or it will haunt him forever.

A flash of imagination washed over me as I wondered what tasks I could give him that he would feel inclined to complete: His small little hand digging and crawling around inside my rear---

"Got it!"

I flinched, blinking, then leaned forward in a daze to stare at the lemon within the boy's fingers, such a look of pride in his features.

Only then did I receive a hint that this boy was never allowed to be a child until he met me; I was the only one he trusted, sad enough to say: Me, a lonely man nearing 35; him, a bird who was finally free from his cage, and chose me as his perch...

Valspar stuck the lemon into his mouth, chewing both the peel and the meat of the fruit. I thought he was doing it for show at first, but my previous speculations corrected me: This boy was being himself. And I must rightly do the same.

"Ericson."

Not acknowledging my naming, boy grinned, making a "chee~" sound to show off the peel.

I reached forward in impulsively and captured his face in one hand, pressing my mouth to his, sucking hard to take the lemon into my own mouth, while kissing him in that same moment.

I think I heard a dish break from a startled waitress. But I wouldn't know: My eyes had closed the second I felt his tongue in my mouth.

...

We ended up being asked to leave the restaurant due to "disturbing the other customers," which I am surprised they made such a statement towards our behavior when all Valspar and I did was kiss.