Burn this City by Aleksandr Voinov
45
Jack paced across the cream carpet back in his suite, trying to think through the implications of the new picture, trying so hard to focus, but all he could think of was Sal’s stricken face back at the airport.
“I think we both know that isn’t true. I didn’t get you.”
This whole thing was preposterous, impossible, at the very least highly unlikely, not because of Sal, but because of the past, because of who they were or had been, and the idea scared Jack. Always much harder to pick up the pieces than just burn it all to the ground and start anew. He knew very well just how much hard work it was.
But for once, he wouldn’t have to do it alone.
A knock on the door, and Jack opened it for Sal, who stepped swiftly inside, but didn’t crowd Jack, didn’t touch him, though he looked like he wanted to. Instead, Sal Rausa crossed his arms and waited.
“It’s madness. You know it is.”
“But you knew it wasn’t just sex, right?” Sal’s voice was low, as if he made an effort to be non-threatening. Good luck with that. As long as Sal Rausa breathed, he’d be threatening in all kinds of ways.
“I don’t know anything. I don’t exactly have a long history when it comes to sex or relationships.” Nothing to measure this against. Sex could mean all kinds of things—just because there was no casual for Jack because he just didn’t feel attraction randomly, didn’t mean the same standards applied to everybody else. “That is what you’re doing, right? Offering me a relationship?”
Sal drew a breath so deep it lifted his shoulders, and then released it. “I’m offering offer you everything. Independence, protection, dignity, respect, love, a relationship, sex. You don’t have to choose, you can have all of it. I’m not going to beg you, Jack, because if this has any chance of working out, I want us to be equals. Regardless of what others may think. And if it doesn’t work out, at least we tried. But I need to try.”
Jack’s heart hurt seeing Sal’s eyes so open and vulnerable. Sometimes there was a depth and fragility to him that made Jack ache, but this time was different. There was none of that boundless rage, and without it, Sal seemed more human, more real with all that emotion.
“So we’ll … there’s …” And he had no real vocabulary for it. He’d never been in a situation where he’d asked somebody to be his partner or his lover, and he assumed it wouldn’t get easier even with more practice. “You really believe there’s something we can have, something longer?”
“Yes.” Just that. No terms, no conditions. “You, and me. I want to know you like I know myself, and I want you to know everything about me. Every last thing.”
Jack swallowed hard. “Same.”
“It’s good to hear it. And say it.” Sal offered him a cautious smile and uncrossed his arms. “I want you to stay here with me. I want you in my life, not just in my bed, and I’ll do what’s necessary.”
That exceeded every best-case scenario Jack had ever considered. At most, he’d hoped for an affair, an ongoing thing to explore his own responses, his own emotions. He’d never allowed himself to think further than that, because he couldn’t cope with the vulnerability of it. Turncoat consigliere meeting an enemy boss for sex every few days or so? Too demeaning. But Sal offered so much more than Jack would have asked for. “I don’t expect you to put a ring on my finger, Sal. I know that’s impossible.”
Sal’s smile widened and he took a step closer. “A ring I can do, I just can’t marry you. A ring … fuck, a ring can be just between two people. I still often wear mine.” Sal took Jack’s hand and pointedly looked at his fingers, then kissed his knuckles. “Who would even ask why you’re wearing one too?”
Jack smiled softly and drew Sal into a firm hug, speechless that those things were even on the table. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who had ended up surrendering completely. “I’d wear it,” he whispered, because he didn’t trust his voice. But he needed even more than this embrace, needed Sal even closer, needed to feel him unguarded, without fear, skin to skin. He reached behind himself and picked up the key card to the suite and pushed it into the pocket of Sal’s suit.
“Come back with rope.”
“Pushy.” Sal grinned. “I like it.”