Michael Rodriguez and Nunzio Medici have been friends for two decades. From escaping their dysfunctional families in the working-class neighborhood of South Jamaica, Queens to teaching in one of the city’s most queer friendly schools in Brooklyn, the two men have shared everything. Or so they thought until a sweltering night of dancing leads to an unexpected encounter that forever changes their friendship.
Now, casual touches and lingering looks are packed with sexual tension, and Michael can’t forget the feel of his best friend’s hands on him. Once problems rear up at work and home, Michael finds himself seeking constant escape in the effortless intimacy and mind-blowing sex he has with Nunzio. But things don’t stay easy for long.
When Michael’s world begins to crumble in a sea of tragedy and complications, he knows he has to make a choice: find solace in a path of self-destruction or accept the love of the man who has been by his side for twenty years.
TEACHER HAPPY hour started at four thirty. By the time the typical party crowd showed up, the remaining stragglers from McCleary were well and truly shitfaced. Nunzio and I were among them, which was a surprise to nobody at all.
The good thing about the outing being at a so-called beer garden in Williamsburg was that it was spacious enough for conversations to be carried out in the brisk October wind, and I was a good distance from the rest of our colleagues. Things were fine until I saw David and Nunzio getting cozy at the bar.
I choked on my beer, causing bubbles to rise in the Viking-style stein that I was holding with both hands. My throat burned in protest, and I gasped a couple of times before setting the stein on the table I’d moved to on the side of the patio. Nunzio had only invited a select group of teachers from McCleary, but they talked about work with a single-minded focus that I couldn’t handle— especially not when Nunzio was playing games.
All of a sudden, Nunzio was leering at David and giving him come-suck-me smiles. Even David had seemed caught off guard by the sudden shift in Nunzio’s behavior and had avoided him for most of the night.
Until now.
An enormous guy with a blond beard and a faux-hawk got in my line of sight, and I had to stop myself from shoving him out of the way. He stood there with his miniature can of PBR and ranted on like a goddamned idiot about being a bona fide zombie survivalist. The conversation was so absurd that I quit eyeballing Nunzio and David to sneer at Mr. Faux-Hawk and his skewer of minisausages. He beamed up at me, oblivious to my hatred, and asked if I watched The Walking Dead.
I shot him my most baleful stare and walked around him to return to my spying. David was close to Nunzio’s side, grinning as they looked at his phone while one of his hands rested on the small of David’s back. The motherfucker was rubbing it, but the movement was so subtle, I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t zeroed in on it with guided-missile precision.
What the hell was wrong with me? What did I care if Nunzio suddenly wanted to bang David? We both hooked up with random people all the time. Why did it matter if his fingers were slipping under the hem of David’s T-shirt? When had I reacted this adversely to the sight of Nunzio about to score?
For the past two decades, I’d watched him suck in scores of guys and had never felt this level of irritation, but I wanted to punch someone in the face at the sight of Mr. Ivy League leaning into Nunzio’s touch.
Read Maria's review of Sutphin Boulevard HERE!!
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