Ricky woke up the next morning on his sofa in the basement, wearing nothing except his boxers. All of his clothes were on the floor, and Chico was sleeping on them.
The door knocked hard, and Ricky groaned.
"Enrique, despertarse, ahora." Pops yelled from the other side of the door. "Wake up now."
Ricky yawned. "What time is it?"
"Time you got up for Mass."
"Yeah, I got that, but what time?"
"You have half an hour to get your ass outta the room, and scrub up."
"Aight, I'm coming okay?" Ricky sighed. "Don't keep banging the door."
"I'll bang as much as I have to."
Chico woke up. "You're waking up your son, too. He's scared."
"Aight, hurry up. Please."
"Aight."
Ricky comforted Chico for a moment, and made him comfortable on the sofa, before he made his way up the stairs and into the shower. He let out a yawn as he turned the water on to wash away the memories of last night's performance.
He started to think about his conversation with Mateo, and how chill he was when Mateo admitted that he had a crush on him. And how he'd do anything for him.
And how much chemistry they had...
... And how much those pinche hormones were messing up their bodies.
Despite being able to rationalize that he might like guys as well as girls, he just couldn't bring himself to terms with the fact that it was becoming so close to home.
That Mateo wanted him, of all people, and not Tito anymore.
He was impressed with how quickly the ship sailed, and how Mateo managed to not get hurt, but he was confused as to why he wanted him.
He was a lousy lover, and he couldn't hold down a relationship. He was driven by lust and the desires of the moment. The more he held back, the more the desire grew and the angrier he got, with himself and time. He just wanted to release his urges, and not worry about things.
Not worry about having a kid, having to get a job, a house; being financially stable, having a scholarship, having a study schedule, and getting good grades.
He needed to escape for a moment.
He had his whole life ahead to achieve things and live.
He didn't need to do everything all at once like the people around him had said:
Screw society, and fuck normalcy, tradition is a trap.
He started to scrub his body with soap.
Harder, and harder each time he thought about something dirty; something from a music video, or that movie he saw about the two guys opening a laundrette, or those fitness magazines.
His mind started to race, as a conversation was beginning to form between the two sides of thoughts inside his brain. The thoughts were set in motion and began to talk to each other:
I can't think about those things in Mass. Afterward, you can go loco, Ricky.
But what about screwing the norm?
I can do that afterward–
–Or in the bathroom—
What?
Come on, you don't think that people haven't thought about jerking off there?
What do you mean?
Come on, Pinche Dave is bound to have gotten off in there after his sermons. Why do you think he can't wait to go to the bathroom?
Aight, guess you're right.
Of course I am. I am the right side of your brain after all.
Ricky took a step back from the showerhead and growled. He rubbed the shampoo through his buzzcut as hard as he could, until he could feel it becoming super lathery.
The door knocked again.
"WHAT? I'm finishing up soon!" Ricky yelled.
"It's me, Dory, I need to pee." The voice said back. "Please hurry up."
Ricky sighed as he gave himself one last scrub before washing himself clean with the water from the showerhead. "Gimme a moment, aight?"
"Okay," Dory said. "Don't be long."
"Wait, I'm wrapping a towel 'round me soon."
"Okay."
A few moments later, Ricky went out of the shower. He made sure the towel was wrapped tightly around himself as he unlocked the door, and stepped into the bedroom.
Fur Ass was fixing his tie, and smiling at Ricky.
"You should be dressed, Dearie."
Ricky glared back. "You should shut up–"
Fur Ass frowned. "I wanted to say you were great in my play last night. You really brought Chuy to life."
"Aight, thanks." Ricky rolled his eyes. "If you're ever writing a sequel, don't bring me back. Thanks for killing me off, at least. I refuse to be a ghost, though."
Fur Ass smirked back. "Thanks for the idea–"
"--For real though, Mateo can be my ghost, my acting days are over–"
"--But they've only just begun. You made your debut for me last night."
Ricky pulled out some clothes from his side of the closet. "Aight, whatever. Did Max go and get something to eat?"
Fur Ass nodded. "He's down there with Jose, why?"
Ricky shrugged. "Just wondering. As long as he didn't sneak off with Yelena again. Pops has been lenient with him, even after getting Yelena pregnant."
"He's been working, though, in Tito's yard, and doing some night shifts at the factory on weekends to save up more money for the baby."
"Aight, he's busy. Is he gonna drop outta school?"
Fur Ass shrugged. "I dunno, go ask him, Dearie."
Ricky rolled his eyes. "Aight, hurry up and lemme get dressed. I'll talk to him later–actually, Tito will be able to help him–maybe he can stay in school."
"Good idea." Fur ass grinned and nodded as he walked out. "I'll see you down there."
Ricky nodded back as Fur Ass closed the door behind himself. He dropped his towel, and sat on the bed for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. He was itching to let it all out.
He couldn't take waiting for another two and a half hours. He let out a sigh before asking:
"Aight, big man, I know you're there up there, somewhere. Help me get through the next two hours. If you do, I owe you one, orale?"
________
The sermon was extremely boring; it was all about morals, dogma, how important la virgencita was, and how to be a good Catholic by paying into the cult–church.
They'd (thankfully) moved on from the "gay stuff" and the talks about sexuality, but Padre Dave was going to rehash the Easter story (once again), starting next week.
Mateo was a welcome distraction from the sermon, but an uncomfortable one. He smiled at Ricky a few times and asked him how he was before everything started.
Ricky shrugged him off with his usual shtick of: 'the usual, ya know? Sunday morning was crap, yadda, yadda, last night was so much better'. Mateo agreed with him, and just nodded along, as Ricky complained–talked about his breakfast tortillas being cold.
He could tell that Mateo was dying to do more than hug him, so he kept it short and sweet inside the chapel. None of that 'unholy stuff' was permitted on the premises (according to Padre Dave, anyway, but who cared what he had to say? He was too touchy-feely at times).
Ricky was convinced he was a borderline homosexual, who tried to hide behind the virtues of serving Christ as a way to excuse his own sins.
It was common to repress yourself with religion.
Men had been doing it for years.
It was an open secret, waiting to be exposed.
Ricky found himself staring at Mateo twice; once by accident when they were singing, and again on purpose when he leaned over and smiled to greet Tito, who was late once again.
Tito smiled back at them both.
Mateo didn't get giddy about it, but he got excited when he caught a glimpse of Ricky winning and grinning back at Tito. He thought there was something special in that rare moment before Ricky became his usual stone-faced self once again.
Yes, he liked to play around and have fun but by default, Ricky was a stoic and usually rational person who carried himself well. He made his own decisions and went by the best of his own drum.
Mateo was attracted to his physicality and drawn in by his secure masculinity. He was always there for him when he needed it, and he knew him very well.
Tito was too old for him.
Ricky was the right age. He wanted to explore another side of Ricky if it were possible. A more vulnerable and emotionally mature one that he had hidden underneath his heavy coat of carnalismo.
Ricky, on the other hand, didn't think too much about the possibility of exploring the layers of Mateo, but he could feel something there, bubbling to the surface; something unlike what he felt for Marisol, something more strong, and forbidden, but he didn't want to admit it.
He wanted an easy life, free from the drama that relationships brought, but he didn't want to break Mateo's heart at the same time. He respected him enough.
He didn't want him to cross the line, yet. They had another year left of school after this, and he wanted to sail through it.
The scholarship years were more important to him than the actual college ones. They were his ticket out. He has the grades and the sporting prowess to succeed. Coach Lopez had him on the 'potential winners' list last time he checked the leaderboard he'd kept in his office.
Mateo wasn't far behind either with his rising grades.
He wanted things to work out for once, and then to find a happy medium. Life was unfair to him.
So was listening to Padre Dave ramble on about holy things when he himself was unclean.
Ricky had seen him smoke a joint before a sermon once. When he went to confront him, he said it was "his medicine" and not "the devil's lettuce".
He thought that was hypocritical.
Ricky knew he was 'unclean' and didn't believe in a lot of the Catholic superstitions, so he didn't partake in the eucharist at the end. Instead, he snuck outside for a smoke and saw that Mateo was standing there, too, smiling back at him.
They were around the side of the building, where people didn't go to look for anyone.
Pops assumed that Ricky was in the bathroom, having a piss, or doing something else that he didn't want to mention, and Sr. assumed that Mateo was talking to himself, and self-narrating as he sat down on the toilet seat.
They'd both attempted to get their sons to understand, and partake in the holy sacrament of the Eucharist into their teenage years, but both failed to keep it up and see the importance of it within the context of their religion.
Neither of them cared that much about maintaining traditions, upon recent revelations.
"Aight?" Ricky asked as he stomped out his cigarette. Mateo nodded back. "Cat got your tongue, Teo?"
"Don't call me that... please," Mateo grumbled back, "I hate it."
Ricky smirked. "I knew that would get ya talking. So what's up?"
"Nothing much." Mateo sighed. "You?"
"Same."
Mateo walked closer to Ricky and leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Ricky pushed him back in the heat of the moment, as Mateo let out a sigh.
"I know you wanna kiss me, and do dirty things with me, and whisper sweet nothings in my ear, but can you please back off for now?" Ricky asked. "I just need some more time, to be honest with myself."
Mateo hissed and shook his head as he started to walk away. "Well, hurry up and make up your damn mind. I haven't got a long time."