Page 60 of Two for Charging

“How did you know?” Chris sounded so crestfallen Luca resigned himself to the horror of wearing overalls so Chris wouldn’t be sad. He would have gone through at least four stages of grief over the loss of his dignity, but he’d left it on the living room couch along with most of his brain when Chris touched him.

Mooney must have seen some of the process on his face. He leaned in close to stage-whisper, “You don’t have to wear it.”

Luca heaved a deep sigh. “It is better than costume shopping for myself.”

“Is it though?”

Chris chose that moment to break into loud guffaws. “Hah! Got you! You thought I was going to make you wear a video game costume? Really? I’ve met you.”

“They are Italian,” Luca pointed out.

“Okay, well, I’ve met your tailor also. I’m not about to make you wear overalls. And just for assuming I would, I’m not telling you what our costumes are.”

This led to a long recounting of Chris’s visit to Leonora’s shop in which Chris managed to gloss over the amount of time she’d spent mocking him and, instead, highlight how excited he was for real Italian tailoring.

Oddly, he didn’t mention telling his parents about it once.

Since Halloween fell on the day after their road trip ended, Luca once again foresaw a lack of time and space for more touching, and his guess proved right. When they arrived at home, Chris queued up a Halloween-themed romcom with big, pleading eyes, and Luca was helpless to resist, which meant they spent the evening cuddling on the couch. Luca went to bed as horny as ever but emotionally satisfied, a new and odd set of feelings for him.

The following day, Chris revealed he had offered to help Howie set up the party. Luca shouldn’t have been surprised, but for some reason, he’d hoped for an afternoon of at least making out before they headed over to what promised to be an unbearably American evening.

In order to preserve a modicum of self-respect, Luca forced himself to say, “Oh. I thought we could have another…coaching session today,” instead of, “I have been thinking about you jerking me off on the couch all week, and I am outrageously horny about it. Could we please do it again?”

Chris looked torn. Luca wanted to believe the prospect of sex tempted him, not just the idea of disappointing Luca, but he knew Chris well enough to not fall for his own hopes.

“Maybe when we get home?” Chris offered.

“Sure,” Luca said in the full knowledge that it would be late and they would be drunk. Something of his disbelief must have read on his face because Chris gave him a kiss before they left.

The kiss left Luca dumbstruck. By the time he managed to form words, Chris already had his jacket and shoes on and a bag with their costumes slung over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to keep doing things with me if you don’t want to,” Luca reminded him, though he physically ached at the thought of not touching Chris again.

Chris frowned. “I want to kiss you more though.”

“Well. There’s always tomorrow?”

Instead of having platonic orgasms at the hands of the man he was in love with, Luca spent the afternoon putting up fake cobwebs and decorative pumpkins all around Jax and Tom’s lovely three-story townhouse, a crime against interior design. The house had been remodeled at some point in the last few decades. It had decent insulation and big windows, which made it light and airy, but the old-fashioned wooden floors and staircases shone as beacons of the house’s provenance. Of course, they wouldn’t for long. The dog would scratch everything up sooner or later based on the way she skittered around, following them everywhere as though a moment alone would kill her.

By five, everything was ready. A barrel had been set up in the garden to bob for apples, a stand stood ready where guests could be blindfolded before their hands were stuck into bowls full of brains and intestines (different types of cold, cooked pasta), and a table held copious amounts of alcohol. Jax and Chris spent the afternoon making peanut butter cookies in the shape of pumpkins as well as disgustingly sweet coconut balls shaped like eyeballs. Luca ate three before Chris hid them from him.

Tom had put his foot down and insisted on catering for the remainder of the food, a good call in Luca’s opinion. Between decorating, baking, and cleanup, this party meant a lot of effort for everyone involved. Howie might have planned and purchased everything, but the preparation had been a joint project. This must be why most NHL players hired party planners. Or married them.

With the setup finished, Jax directed them to the guest room to change into their costumes. Howie immediately stripped down and began pulling on bright green tights.

Overalls would have been bad, but Luca also hoped he wouldn’t have to wear tights.

Chris handed over his costume, and Luca didn’t spot any nylon or neon.

“Han Solo?” Luca fingered the leather vest and the gun holster. It was even—though he hardly dared admit it—kind of cool.

Chris shrugged. “I thought it would suit you. You know, he’s pretty grouchy in the movies.”

“So who are you?” Luca imagined him as Leia for a moment, complete in the golden bikini with the buns on either side of his head. It would look ridiculous, but Luca couldn’t stop himself from feeling a frisson of heat at the thought of all that bare skin.

Chris pulled a massive furry onesie out of the bag he’d brought. “Chewbacca, obviously.”

“Aww, you guys match. Cute.” Howie had finished putting on his outfit—a green tunic falling halfway down his thighs, along with a brown belt and satchel. To the trained eye, the quality of the costume showed in the even seams and the thickness of the fabric, leaving Luca to wonder why someone who cared about his appearance as much as Howie did wore off-the-rack game-day suits.