章節 14: Tough Meat

"Fuck!" Richard cursed beautifully when he almost tripped on a rug placed on the cabin's front door. He kicked the inanimate object, cursed at it, then continued his way inside.

While he's at it, he cursed Michelle for refusing to share Yves' information with him. They've been friends since high school. Millions flowed in her business because of his affiliates and connections! Would it hurt if she at least let him know the boy's address so he can send him flowers? She's such a pain in the butt.

With a grunt, Richard marched to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Most of the guests in the wedding he attended had left. The newlywed's family only rented the El Cielo Lodges overnight. But since it's the safest place for high-profile people like him, he extended his stay using his own money. He can't stay here forever, though. He needed to go back to Manila for his duties.

Dropping onto the bed, Richard spread his arms on the cold, silky mattress. It was never a part of his plan to hire another bodyguard, but Yves' refusal still ticked his forehead with annoyance. Who knew the boy had undergone security protection training?

Heck, he should have sued Yves' with physical assault for what he did to his son's face. That's the most logical action a father should take. Not act like a foolish teenager around his crush.

But given their family's status and his son's past aggressions, it might backfire on them if the media heard Glenn got involved in a fight for reasons not known to the public yet. The greatest enemy of politicians and celebrities were the news media, who will make a big deal out of everything famous people do.

Maybe he should just blackmail Yves. Ah, but that might backfire on him too. Just thinking about it made Richard flounce out his arms and legs like a child throwing a tantrum because his parents didn't buy him the toy he wanted.

Richard settled back on the covers with a defeated sigh, legs still dangling at the edge of the bed. He just stared outside the window and basked in the soft glow of the moon flittering inside.

Yves was like the moon—a pretty sight he could stare at, but can never have.

Well, there's nothing much he can do about it. The only reason he attended the wedding, other than wishing the couple a happy marriage, was to get away from the stressful work and have some fun. It's not like he's too desperate for the boy to put his career at stake just for some sexy time.

It's just infatuation. Infatuation would fade after a certain period of time. He'll get over it. He can get a sexy time with someone more willing. There were plenty of gay guys around.

"Congressman?" came a male's voice, followed by a gentle knock on the door. It opened when he didn't answer, and Eadric's head peeked inside. "Congressman? Are you asleep already? It's time for dinner."

"I'm not hungry yet," Richard answered.

A sigh came from Eadric. He walked to the side of the bed where Richard's shoe-cladded feet still stayed rooted on the floor. Then he kneeled down to untie his shoelaces. "I saw you stubbed your toes several times today. You should at least let your feet rest properly."

More like he kicked the nearest object he could channel his irritation to, but whatever. It's not like his toes hurt. He's wearing a high-quality shoes. He would admit, though, it felt much better when Eadric removed his shoes and socks, but he didn't need to do that.

"I'm not replacing you as one of my bodyguards, Eadric. No need to go the extra mile to appease me."

"It's not that, Congressman. I just... I-I just want to do this..."

Richard propped his elbows up to stare at the spiky-haired boy massaging his foot. Every stroke of the skillful thumb to his sole sent a jolting sensation that made him groan in relief. "Ooh... That felt good. I didn't know you're good at foot massages. Ah~!"

That came out a little sexual than he intended.

Richard froze, and so did Eadric.

———

"So, how was the client meeting?" Timothy asked from across the table.

Looking up from his plate, Yves slowed his chewing, gulped down his food, before giving an answer. "It... didn't go well. The client isn't someone I can work with, so..."

Timothy reached out and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. "It's alright, Baby. You've only started in the agency. I'm sure you'll get another one. Do you still have money until the end of the month? Just let me know if you got short on budget, okay?"

Yves smiled at his boyfriend's offer and squeezed back. Even if they've been dating for almost three years now, they agreed to keep their finances separated to avoid fighting over money. "Don't worry, Tim. I still have savings from the few gigs I did when I'm still a freelancer. It's not a big deal."

"Alright. If you say so. But let me know if you got short on budget, okay? I can always lend you money. Actually, you don't even need to pay me back."

"Wow. My boyfriend is so rich," Yves chided.

"Of course not." Timothy smirked, his golden brown eyes gleamed with obvious mischief. "It's because I can just charge you with something else."

"Like?" Yves asked, playing along.

"Your body."

"The chest part, or the thigh part?"

"I prefer the thighs, yes. With extra gravy."

They broke into fits of laughter, looked around the restaurant to see if they have disturbed other customers, then reduced in a more quieted giggle.

They were in Casa Vallejo—a historic hotel in Baguio built in 1909. It was the oldest hotel in the city that was still operating to the present day. Its Hispanic ambience made Yves feel like they were being transported to one hundred year into the past every time Timothy brought him to the Hill Station—the hotel's in-house restaurant.

"I thought we're just going to have dinner in a fast-food restaurant," Yves said as he went back to his meal. "We should have saved this for our anniversary, which is still in two months."

Though, with his boyfriend's fascination over history, it didn't surprise Yves that Timothy chose to have their intimate dinner at the Hill Station.

"To celebrate," Timothy said.

"This is too much for a celebration. I didn't even get a client in the end because..." Yves trailed off, remembering the charismatic congressman. "Because he's a creep."

"Why? Did he try to hit on you?"

"It's an old dude."

"Oh. Sugar Daddy. What a wasted opportunity." Timothy chuckled when Yves kicked him under the table. He brought a chunk of meat to his mouth. "It's still meat. Tough meat, though."

"You're gross." Yves shook his head at his boyfriend's dirty joke.

Though, calling Richard a tough meat would be far from reality. As far as sex appeal was concern, the forty-two-year-old lawmaker was still very much edible.

Yves mentally cursed himself for his line of thought. "Let's just eat. It's getting late."

Timothy agreed, and they finished their dinner without any mention of dirty innuendo about meat. Once they got back to Yves' apartment, a voicemail from Michelle was waiting for him.

"I've been trying to reach you, but it looks like you're busy. I've set up a meeting with a client I think you can work with. Call me back as soon as possible," she said, followed by a tone that ended her voicemail.

"See? There's still something to celebrate," Timothy said in a meaningful voice. He pulled Yves into a hug and kissed his temple. "Now, don't be picky with clients, okay? You still have a mouth to feed."

Yves laughed and kissed his boyfriend's mouth. "Right. Gotta provide for the family."

———

Still frozen like a mummified deer, Richard stared down at Eadric, who stared back with a flustered expression while still holding his foot. To make it worst, someone walked up to the open door and knocked.

"Congressman, I—!" Angela cut mid-speech to stare at them. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" they chorused.

Eadric dropped Richard's foot on the floor and stood. "A-As I said, C-Congressman. The dinner is ready," he said, then bolted out of the room while avoiding their gaze.

Angela trailed Eadric's back with dubious eyes before settling back at Richard. She looked very suspicious, but she didn't probe any further and simply cleared her throat. "Congressman, I received an intel that the President will at The Mansion on Wednesday. Would you like me to change your schedule so you can meet with him?"

"Ah, yeah. Yeah, sure." Richard pushed himself from the bed and picked up his shoes. When his secretary stayed rooted in the doorway, his thick eyebrows raised questioningly. "What?"

"I interrupted something, didn't I?" she asked.

Richard threw a shoe in her direction, but it only thumped against the door. "Crazy woman."