Chapter Ten

Kert

W aking up bound and covered by a needy octopus was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Not only was I warm, I was surprisingly comfortable. The night after our confessions we’d showered together, both managing to cum hard despite the tiny bathtub we were crammed into. Falling into Marin’s huge bed and snuggling to him had been the perfect finale to the intense day. After that, we’d spend two days on couch fire cleanup and getting to know each other’s bodies in ways I’d both dreamed of for years, but I wanted to explore so much more with Marin. And we didn’t have much time.

“Morning,” I whispered into the hair that held his ocean breeze and sun scent.

Marin gasped and pulled himself up, his wide eyes bouncing from me to the room around us. When he looked at me again, my t-shirt up to my mid-chest, my morning wood on display, a soft smile graced his lips.

“A very good one.” He said, and flopped onto his back.

It was my turn to snuggle into him with my arm over his chest and my cheek on his bare pec.

“I’ll make breakfast before we go.” He pulled up, but I kept him in place with all my might, straddling his hips.

“I’m not looking for couches.” I poked his chest with the tip of my tail. We’d been browsing through furniture websites, but hadn’t gone far, as each sit-down ended with Marin’s tentacle in my ass.

“No.” He chuckled. “I’ll order one online.”

“The purple two-seater with the armrests?” I traced circles with his finger on my chest.

“Yeah. You liked it and it would fill the space well.” He took my hand and kissed the inside of my palm.

“And it doesn’t fold out so you can’t sleep on it.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll think you set the couch on fire on purpose.”

I gave him my most-innocent, big-eyed look.

“You did! Why?” He rolled us around, pinning me to the bed.

I flopped his tentacle over my chest. “It worked.”

“You devil of a brat!” He caught me by the sides and dug his fingers in, holding my arms and legs with his tentacles.

A set of uncontrollable giggles escaped me. “I’m not sorry!” I gasped for breath, thrashing on the bed.

Easing off, he kissed my neck and nibbled on my earlobe. “You had to push me to get what you wanted. It’s admirable.”

“You had my tongue down my throat at the skating rink, but your head remained in your ass, so—”

He tickled me again, and I laughed until I cried. Then he took me in a tight wrap-around hug and kissed my tears as I regained my breath.

“It’s supposed to be perfect weather today for a walk. So we’re going to Central Park.” He grinned and I squealed in delight.

I was out of bed and pulling on thick socks in no time.

An hour later, we stepped out of the subway and into the chilly Manhattan air.

Marin turned around and reached for my hand with his.

I looked up to meet his gaze, not suppressing the grin spreading on my face. Maybe it was my romantic heart, but it beat so fast at the thought of holding Marin’s hand in mine. It was so much more than holding onto him not to get lost in a crowd, or pretending to be drunk to grip his tentacle.

“Woo me, mein Schatz .” I intertwined my fingers with his.

“I thought I did last night. And the one before.” He feigned a shocked expression.

“Then romance me.”

“My little devil.” He kissed me briefly on the lips, then my cheeks, and the side of my neck. “You smell so good.”

“We can always go back home.” I squeezed his hand.

“No. I want this trip to be magical for you, not only because of my bedroom skills.” He waggled his eyebrows comically.

“They are pretty magical.”

His rich chuckle filled my chest with warmth.

The park was a winter wonderland in itself, but with all the lights on the snow-dusted trees, it turned into a fairy tale. Or maybe it was my rose-colored glasses, as I walked next to Marin as my lover, my temporary boyfriend, or whatever we currently were.

“Picture time.” Marin twirled me around and took several steps back.

I looked behind me. “Is that the bridge from Home Alone 2?”

“Yup. It’s The Gapstow Bridge. Pose.” I held his phone up.

He didn’t tell me to smile, knowing that I looked mysterious and sexy in selfies, but this time, I was grinning from ear to ear.

We continued walking, contemplating which movie we should watch when we’d be back to his apartment and concluding it wouldn’t matter as we’d probably just fuck anyway. I told him about the exhibit I’d attended in Berlin a few months back, and he shared gossip from his circle of friends that I’d met at the gallery opening.

We reached a large plaza with a huge fountain in the middle covered in a dusting of snow with several pigeons sitting on it.

“That’s Bethesda Fountain. Want a pic?” Marin loosened his hold on me and I shivered instantly. Without a word, he pulled me straight back next to him.

“Yup. But with you.” I pointed my phone in selfie mode and touched my head to his shoulder. He squatted so we were the same height, and I snapped a pic when we both laughed.

We ventured under arch walkways of the Bethesda Terrace, admiring the ornamental ceiling, then further, along a path with Victorian lamp posts. The inside of the park was such a huge contrast to the city landscape in the background. There, in the leafy surrounds, we were completely isolated from the urban environment bordering us on all sides.

We passed a plaque that said we had entered Strawberry Fields, then walked past a half-frozen lake until Marin pointed to a set of benches nobody was sitting on.

“My first summer in New York, I used to sell my art on tiny canvases on that corner. I thought if I could find my way in Berlin, I could do the same in New York.” He shook his head. “But I refused to rely on any help from my family. The rent in any tiny place was insane. It took me a few weeks to score a job that paid well enough to stop the urge to call my parents and beg for a return ticket home.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded.”

“Nope. But I would have. I gave myself two months to see if I could make it in New York, then five years to earn a living doing what I love. I don’t even have any paintings I could show to anyone to be considered for any spot at a gallery.”

I hugged his side. “I believe you can achieve what you set your mind to. Can I help with anything? Since I arrived, I filled half my sketchbook with sculpture ideas. The sightseeing helps, but so does the sex.” I bumped him with my hip.

“It’s easier when you’re here because I told myself I only need to wrap up the projects I have scheduled for December. I haven’t planned to be productive with my art because I wanted to spend the time with you. So, you’re helping by taking the pressure off already.”

We stopped at a concession cart, bought a pretzel each, and continued walking past a busker playing John Lennon songs with a small crowd gathered around him.

Marin twirled me to face him. “This is the most important spot in the Strawberry Fields.” He crouched and moved a thin dusting of snow from the ground between us, revealing a round mosaic with the word “imagine” in the middle.

Several fresh flowers lay around it that must have been left there within the last few hours.

“This is the John Lennon memorial you told me about.” I crouched next to him.

“Yup. This area of the park is named after the Beatles song Strawberry Fields Forever .”

“And I recognize this song.” I patted the ground and stood up. “I love how you’re so into old music.”

“Mostly the sixties and seventies.” Marin took my hand and we left, but the sound of the busker’s singing followed us for a while.

“Yes, as I said. Old.”

“Well, not everyone can stomach mind-numbing Rammstein . Wait.” Marin chuckled. “I should have known you were into BDSM when you took me to their concert in Berlin. That was a trip.”

“A great concert. But yeah, that imagery was hot.” I fanned myself.

“And the fire on stage too. We stood so close, I thought I’d burst into flames.”

“It was your first month there and I was trying to figure you out, so I thought that concert would shake you. You did great.” I elbowed him. “You enjoyed Die Toten Hosen more. That was more my thing too.” He’d been so open to new experiences, he’d gone along with me to events that wouldn’t interest him. Did he do that out of curiosity or did he do it for me?

“I was used to them since you listened to their music in our room,” Marin said. “And the lack of flames on stage was a big improvement.”

“Well, they don’t have aquatic concerts in Berlin. Those are mostly by the seaside.” We left the depths of the park behind and moved towards the city. Behind Marin, the buildings of Manhattan stood tall while we still walked in the magical park. “So, how is your cephalopod nature in this place? I imagine the bathtub in your apartment is too small.”

“Yeah. I lay in it often but it’s not enough. In winter, I go to my local swimming pool once a week. Summer brings more options as I have beaches to choose from. I go to the Coney Island beach to get my saltwater fix and explore the depths. I have a spot where I meet with grandma every few months too.”

“Ah yes, she doesn’t spend a lot of time on land. How is she?” Marin’s grandma was the sweetest, most protective person, but she was also menacing when she wanted to be, with her dark-purple skin and huge tentacles.

“Good.” Marin touched the tanzanite gemstone necklace around his neck that he’d gotten from her. “She is going for Christmas to my parents’ place this year, but she needed the month to swim all the way to Greece and make it before the holidays. She has a nautical citizenship on top of her Greek one. So she can come on land here, but only briefly.”

“All of your brothers have American passports, right?”

“Yeah, all three of us were born here, so we have Greek and American citizenships. That’s why I’m able to stay here and work.”

“Even if I wanted to stay, I wouldn’t be able to.” This wasn’t necessarily the truth. I’d been researching possibilities to stay longer with Marin and I may have found a way. However, I was gonna need more information before I could decide on anything.

“Six months is better than nothing. Maybe your next visit could be longer?” Marin pulled me to his side with his tentacles.

“We’ll see. I can tell how this place might be a muse. For the good and bad things in here. I like the anonymity of being in a place where no one knows you, and even if they did, with the city being so large and crowded, people don’t pry into your personal affairs.” Unlike in Berlin, where I’d spent most of my life and couldn’t buy milk at the store without bumping into someone I knew.

“That’s true.” Marin nodded. “You can find your community if you want to. Some neighborhoods are like small villages where everyone knows one another, but the further you go from your apartment, the more anonymous you get.”

I sighed. Walking side by side with Marin, I could easily imagine staying with him, living with him, being a couple. Doing our everyday shit together, creating art, and spending nights in one bed. I was holding that dream in my hands. The tangibility of it scared me. But if I didn’t return to the pressure of the art world in Berlin, I’d crumble into obscurity as an artist. I’d never told Marin about my success, knowing he was still struggling, but seeing his life in New York, I could see he was a lot more accomplished than he gave himself credit for.

For the duration of my stay we were a couple, and I was determined to enjoy every moment.

I looked up, catching the carvings of buildings that had seen the rise of Manhattan. “I love the architecture here.”

“One of my clients lives up there.” Marin pointed to an old building overlooking central park in Central Park South. “She bought the penthouse for over ten million dollars. The rent in Central Park South is crazy. I have a job at her place next week that I couldn’t move to after Christmas. I asked in advance if you could come and she agreed. If you’d rather sightsee, I’ll touch up the living room in a few hours and be out.”

“I wanna see the place. The view must be spectacular.” I stopped in my tracks and smacked Marin in the chest. “I spot pizza!”

“It doesn’t look like much, but it’s the greasy New York City style.” He kissed my hand. “Let’s go.”

We crossed the street, leaving the park behind us and entered the tiny pizza place in the corner of the building. I got the cheesiest slice on a piece of cardboard and Marin took the same.

We stood outside when I lifted the slice up ceremoniously and took my first bite. “Damn it is good. No wonder Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles loved it so much.”