by Amy Lane
“Then talk to us!”
“People die in traffic,” Crispin told him. “They walk out of the house and they never come back. Ask Millie. She was doing homework and her parents walked out to go to the store and they never came back. And you only get so many chances, right? I got two sets of parents and now I have a Luka and he’s already going to leave but what am I going to do if he can never come back!”
“Oh.” All his guys let the syllable slide out, and Crispin was suddenly surrounded by bodies—his friends.
“Dude,” Link said, that aura of natural command making everybody else back off. “Dude. You’re afraid.”
“You think?”
“No—I mean, you’re afraid of loss. We get it. Don’t you think we get it? It’s why we were all so worried in Germany. It was like you were setting yourself up to lose him, and we were like, ‘Great, he’ll never find someone again!’ But he’s here. He’s here and he looks like he could use a month of pot roast and pie, but he’s obviously here for you. So calm down and remember you can do this! You can be brave, Crispin, we know you can!”
Crispin managed a deep breath and then another.
“How we doing?” Cam asked, bending down eye level. “You gonna be okay?”
Crispin managed to look Cam in the eyes and noticed for the first time how compassionate they were. Not Luka’s arresting hazel, but kind. And soft—particularly on Crispin.
Crispin blinked, and Cam blinked and looked away.
And that, of all things, popped Crispin out of his panic.
“Cam?” he said, voice dropping.
Cam shrugged, and Crispin took some deep breaths.
“I’m okay,” Crispin said after a moment. “Guys… guys, can I talk to Cameron for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure. Why should we want to hide in the bathroom?” Ray asked, sarcasm still his brand. “You guys go to it.”
Nick smirked, and Crispin had to laugh because Ray’s ears turned red.
“I was not even thinking that,” Ray mumbled.
“I know you weren’t.” Crispin couldn’t look at Cam—not with the other guys in the room. “Nick, uh, your motorcycle?”
Nick nodded. “Yeah. I’ll bring it by after work—”
“You can say hi to Millie—oh! She’s pregnant!”
He was met by four bemused smiles.
“Okay, that’s great,” Link said, nodding slowly. “Millie’s pregnant, and you’ll see Nick while she’s there, and we’re still getting the hell out of the bathroom. How’s that?”
“Good,” Crispin said. He even managed a smile.
The guys left, and Crispin turned to Cameron, not sure whether to be angry or sad.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked brutally.
Cam couldn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t know,” he said simply. “I… I just always liked you best. You know—why be bi when you always have a girlfriend?”
Crispin swallowed, frowning. “I… I… Luka,” he said at last.
Cam nodded. “Darla,” he agreed. “We can file it under might-have-been.”
Crispin smiled, feeling a tinge of bitterness. “I might have wanted to know it could be,” he admitted. “But….” Luka, warm and trusting in his arms that morning. Exhausted and loopy and raw the night before.
“But Luka.” Cam’s shrug was as bitter as Crispin’s smile. “You saw him and suddenly I saw you, and it was already game over. And, you know, I’m in love with my fiancée. I just… now I know it could have been….”
“You.” Crispin couldn’t smile over this.
“Let him have the motorcycle,” Cam said quietly. “Trust a little in the universe. People come home more often than they don’t. Nothing’s changed since Germany—if it’s glorious, it’s worth it.”
Crispin nodded. “I just… I never realized before.”
“What?”
“How broken people are.”
Cam’s mouth was as twisted as Crispin’s heart in that moment. “Believe me—coming out to my parents would have broken us all.” He leaned over then, and Crispin was abruptly aware of his body heat—and while he wasn’t tempted, he knew what could have been. Cam’s kiss on his temple was benediction and forgiveness. “You’re my best friend. Now you know who won you in the lottery. Let’s go before Luka gets jealous.”
Of course Luka wouldn’t have gotten jealous. Why would Luka be jealous of Cameron Soong when Crispin was game-over in love with Luka…. Luka what?
“Oh my God,” Crispin said out loud as they were leaving the men’s room—finally.
“What?” Cam glanced around frantically.
“It’s just….” God, it was so embarrassing. But who could Crispin tell if it wasn’t his best friend, right?
Cam started laughing hysterically when he heard—and he was still at it when they got back to the table.
“What?” Nick asked, nose wrinkled. “Did you guys cement the best-friends thing in blood or something? Because Luka and I need to be besties now so I’m not left out.”
“No!” Cam howled, head on his arms. “No! Guys!” And then he dissolved into laughter again, and nobody could get him to say another word.
He might have laughed until he passed out, but Luka managed to make his way from the bar with another round for them.
“What is wrong with your friend?” he asked, eyes dancing.
Crispin covered his face. “Luka?”
“Yes?”
“What’s your last name?”
The entire table behind him dissolved, and when Crispin peeked between his fingers, Luka was regarding him with a terrible gentleness.
“Gabriel,” he said softly. “Lukas Josef Gabriel.” His mouth quirked. “Did it just occur to you that you didn’t know?”
“Yeah. Uh… Crispin Henry.”
“I knew that,” Luka said with a wink. “Middle name?”
“Michael.”
“It’s a good name. Will Cam be okay now?”
Crispin had to fight the urge to throw himself on Luka’s chest and tell him no, Cam would not be okay, and then tell him why, but he resisted.
“As okay as he’ll ever be. And Nick has a motorcycle he can lend you while you’re here.”
Luka’s face lit up like the light of a thousand suns. “But that is excellent news! Thank you, boys! I am so excited!”
Luka distributed the next round, chattering with Nick about make and model and whether he had a helmet and leathers, and Crispin sank resignedly into his chair and let the noise wash over him.
He was exhausted, just from his weekend, and all he wanted was to crawl in bed with Luka and forget the world existed.
“Hey, guys,” Link said, after Luka had gone back to the bar and started the charm-and-pour cycle all over again. “I think Crispin looks a little sick, don’t you?”
Cam glanced from Link to Crispin and back again, the last of his giggles dying away. “Yeah. Crispin, you’re at death’s door. I think you should take the day off.”
Crispin stared back at them, nonplussed.
“Uhm, I feel fine—”
“That’s always when it hits,” Ray told him seriously, and Nick nodded to back him up.
“In fact,” Nick said, raising his eyebrows at Link for permission, “I think you look so bad, I’ll have to drive my motorcycle over tomorrow afternoon instead of the evening. Cam, you can come pick me up. You can have the bike situated before Millie even gets there. Congratulations on that, by the way.”
Crispin smiled suddenly, understanding what they were doing.
“Aw, that’s sweet, guys,” he told them. “I love hearing I’m at death’s door.” He faked a couple of coughs. “In fact, I might be sick two days running.”
The table erupted into good-natured laughter, and Crispin smiled appreciatively and took a swallow of wine. A day to wrap his mind around so many things—he’d need it.
“Don’t get too complacent,” Link said under the chatter. “Remember, we’ve got a Kings game on Frida
y. I got him an extra ticket already, but until he sees us when our team loses, he doesn’t really know us.”
Crispin almost snorted wine up his nose.
“You know, Link? I think he’s got a pretty good idea.”
Like Playing House
“GOOD NIGHT, Jamie!” Luka called at closing. “Did you get my counts?”
“Yeah—thanks, Luka. Are you sure you don’t want to fill out the paperwork and get legal?”
Luka grimaced at Crispin. “I have no work visa for this country yet. I shall start the process this week, but I can live on tips until then.”
Crispin winced and made a mental note to text Link about that tomorrow. The guys had left about an hour before closing, and Crispin had read a book on his phone in the corner since. Luka’s generous smile and enthusiasm hadn’t waned, and when he’d given Crispin his tip money to count before going to the back to square up his drawer, Crispin had found at least six phone numbers in the wad of cash Luka pulled from his pocket.
The hundred and fifty dollars of cash Luka had pulled from his pocket.
On a Sunday, no less.
Crispin knew just enough about waiting tables and bartending to know that Luka was a very good waiter. Tonight had probably been an off night.
Crispin grabbed their jackets from the coat tree, and Luka helped him into his, because Luka was just a gentleman to his bones. Crispin got a look at Jamie’s face as Luka slipped a casual arm around his waist and guided them both through the door.
It wasn’t pretty.
Crispin found he could probably forgive Luka the six phone numbers in his pocket, given that Crispin himself had two broken hearts under his belt.
“You are quiet,” Luka murmured against his temple. “What are you thinking?”
“I am thinking the guys are telling everyone I’m sick tomorrow. I’ve got two phone-in meetings between three and four, and the rest of the day is us in our pajamas until Nick and Cameron come over at five.”
“That is very good news. Why are they coming over at five if your sister is visiting at six thirty?”
“So they can drop off Nick’s motorcycle, right?” Crispin didn’t tell him that he’d tried to pay Nick money for it and had been refused. It was like nobody wanted to jinx Luka’s presence here. Buying the motorcycle would have been permanent, and that might have been a problem. Lending him the motorcycle was much better, right?
“So it’s okay?” Luka practically skipped ahead of him. “For me? That’s wonderful news—thank you! Thank Nick! Does he need money? How long can I have it?”
Don’t press don’t press don’t press. “Well, I think you can have it as long as you’re here,” Crispin said diplomatically. “If… you know, you decide to be here a while, then you can talk to Nick about buying it.”
Luka’s smile dimmed, and he bit his lip. “Is that why you got suddenly so sad? I saw it, you know. You got really upset, and they all took you away to calm down.”
Crispin shook his head and pulled out his key fob to unlock his car. After they were settled in, shivering from the icy wind outside, he turned to Luka with the truth.
“The motorcycle scares me,” he confessed. “People around here drive like they’re escaping an insane asylum. And… and I lost the best set of parents I ever had, right?”
Luka pursed his mouth. “As did I. But you can’t live in fear—”
“Every day. I know that. They talked me down, is all. Reminded me of what I already knew. I guess a stronger guy could have just powered through the panic attack, but now you know. I need those furry assholes to help me be a functioning human being.”
“As they seem to need you.” Luka searched his face in the light through the windshield. “Your friend Cam—”
And that hurt. “I don’t want to talk about that,” Crispin told him, voice tight. “I didn’t know until tonight. I can’t believe… anyway. He knows.”
“Knows what?” Luka grazed his cheek with one knuckle, and Crispin’s stomach knotted, he wanted so badly to be in this man’s arms.
“Knows that you’re the one.” Crispin pretended to some indignation. “And by the way, six phone numbers in your pocket. Six.”
“I must be slipping,” Luka said dryly, and then he became sober again. “So now we know.”
“Know what?” Oh, Crispin knew so much, and some of it he was not prepared to say, not tonight.
“We know that we are not each other’s last resorts. And that what I’m doing here, it could last just long enough to break your heart.”
Crispin bit his lip. “A time limit will break my heart,” he said at last. “Watching you walk out my door with no possibility of coming back would break my heart. Not having you in the world anymore would break my heart. Everything else is negotiable.”
Luka rubbed Crispin’s lower lip with a clean thumb. “Tonight is only the beginning,” he promised before claiming Crispin’s mouth.
Crispin fell into the kiss, sadness, worry, pain, all pushed out by the roaring flame of desire that sparked at the touch of Luka’s lips.
Luka groaned like a starving man and took over, pushing Crispin back against the car seat, devouring him, destroying him with urgency and need.
On and on and on until Crispin arched against his palm, hard and aching, and Luka pulled back, panting into his neck.
“We should go back to the house,” he breathed. “We have a perfectly good bed.”
“Oh yeah,” Crispin said. “I need you. I need you in that bed.”
“Go, Crispin—go!”
The trip home was a blur, and Crispin and Luka fell in through the door from the garage, voracious and laughing. They hit the hallway, and Luka pressed Crispin back against the wall, stripping his coat and sweater over his head so he could attack his chest, sucking on his nipples, his rib cage, his stomach, as he sank slowly to his knees.
“Luka….” Crispin gasped as Luka shoved his jeans down and pulled Crispin into his mouth. “Isn’t the bed—augh!”
Hard and fast, his fist tightening around Crispin’s length, his tongue and lips inflicting pleasure without hesitation.
“I’m gonna—”
“I know. Come in my mouth. I want to eat all of you!”
Crispin had no choice. His hands tightened in Luka’s hair and his vision washed black, the orgasm coming so hard and so fast that his knees almost buckled.
Luka’s hand on his middle stopped him, as Luka hollowed his cheeks and sucked one more time.
Crispin cried out, tender, and Luka pulled back, eyes smoldering in his lean face.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
Crispin didn’t ask or object. He kicked his pants and a shoe off one foot and turned around, hands pressed against the wall. Luka leaned over his shoulder and took one of his hands from the wall, then pressed two of Crispin’s fingers into his own mouth.
Oh.
Oh my God.
Crispin knew where this was going.
“My turn,” Luka whispered, pulling on his earlobe with sharp teeth. “I want to be inside you now. I’ll go get lube. You make yourself ready.”
“You want me to… to….” He mumbled around his fingers, getting them sopping wet.
Luka’s voice in his ear was everything. “Fuck yourself, Crispin. Let me see you. It will be so sexy.”
Luka’s heat disappeared from his back, and Crispin was alone in his own hallway, hard again, his legs spread.
His hand trembled as he reached behind and started to finger his asshole. Gah! He was sensitive there—all the nerve endings tingled and sang as he touched himself, penetrated himself, stretched. He started a rhythm, upper thighs shaking, bottom thrust out as he forgot he was naked in his hallway, forgot he was waiting for anyone else, and just pleasured his body in this delicious, darkly sexual way.
He leaned his forehead against the wall and arched his back, only vaguely aware that he was making throaty, uninhibited sounds as he spread his fingers, picked up the pace…
&nbs
p; Contemplated three.
He heard a raw moan from behind him, felt Luka’s heat at his back, his hands on Crispin’s shoulders. Luka kissed his neck, grazing with his teeth.
“Are you ready?” he taunted.
“Please.”
“Say it out loud, Crispin. I love to hear you say it out loud.”
“Fuck—” Thrust! “Me, yes!”
Augh! Luka battered his way in, stretching, and Crispin pounded the wall with his balled-up fist. Luka was so big, in spirit, in body, oh dear God yes in body, and he filled Crispin as nothing or nobody ever could. Crispin bent over farther, supporting his weight against the wall, and urged Luka faster, harder, more, oh God more, because there would never be enough, never be enough, never—
Luka’s roar of completion caught him unaware, but he could feel it, pulses of come inside his body, and that sent him over into a smaller, more intense climax, leaving him sobbing for breath against his blue-painted wall.
Luka’s strong arms wrapped around his waist, bearing him up while he clenched around Luka’s invasion, his body yearning to keep it in.
“Bed now?” he begged.
“Ja.”
“But I need to tend the animals.” He could barely stand.
Luka kissed his cheek. “Do that first.” He bent down and retrieved Crispin’s underwear, helped him into them, kissing the inside of Crispin’s knee just to watch him shudder. “Here—I’ll come with you, and you can tell me their stories.”
Sherman loved him, of course, and Luka—still naked, because why would Luka put on clothes?—bent down to fondle the big doofus’s ears.
“He was a rescue—but usually that means people raise them and find them homes or they’re given to shelters. In this case Todd—my brother-in-law, you’ll meet him tomorrow—actually fished him out of a ditch when he was out doing fieldwork by Folsom Dam. He was just a puppy—like, not even old enough to be separated from his mom. Todd gets all teary-eyed when he talks about it. It’s really cute.”
“They don’t keep him at their place?” Luka asked, accepting licks all over his face. “This seems like a terrible imposition.”
Crispin shrugged. “They live in a little apartment—they have a cat, who will probably end up here when they go out with Todd’s fieldwork—but it’s really too small. I told them I’d take him.” Crispin managed to get a scratch in on Sherman’s deeply-furred ruff. “We keep each other company, right, Shermie?”