by Talya Andor
"Right. Fine."
"Hey," Soren said, trying to keep his voice low, still. "It's not you."
Lucas's eyes flickered in Jack's direction. "Right," he said, and huffed through his nose, dropping his head in a nod. "Yeah, of course. I'll take you home."
He reached for Soren's hand again on the way out of the apartment and Soren accepted it, willing to be drawn along. For now.
Five
Between one thing and another, the crush of work and school, it was about a week and a half before Soren was able to find a spare moment to share with Lucas. They kept up an ongoing chat together, either through their phones or when they were on their computers in the evenings, each of them increasingly frustrated over the lack of time.
Wish you lived in the dorms, or an apartment, Lucas texted him one morning. Then you wouldn't have to sneak out on your parents to see me.
Soren had scowled over that one, but it was true. His mother seemed more alert than ever whether he was at school or work or settling in for a study session with Sloane. He was going to have to tell his parents something, soon, but one thing holding him back was his uncertainty over whether he was dating Lucas, or if they'd crossed the line into being boyfriends.
Is there some magic number? We passed date number three. Now we're dating? He wanted to ask Liz, but she was ignoring the subject of his changed relationship with Lucas. He'd thought of asking Sloane, but he was wary of the way Liz had reacted. And of course, if he brought it up with Lucas, it would be embarrassing.
They had managed a few more pseudo-dates, meeting for lunch either on campus between classes or at the sandwich shop around the corner from work, but it wasn't satisfying to Soren and he could tell Lucas wanted more too. Lucas fidgeted, reached toward Soren and pulled back, and talked a little too loud sometimes and so quiet that Soren could barely hear him the rest of the time.
It was a relief to realize they'd passed the mid-week point and Soren pulled his phone out near the end of his last class to find a new chat notification waiting for him from Lucas.
TruBishounen: My last class was canceled! Meet you for lunch?
Dawntreader: Yes, and my afternoon is yours if you want it
TruBishounen: You know I do
Soren stowed his phone, face burning. Perhaps they wouldn't have done more than trade warm, eager kisses if they'd gone to Lucas's room, but he'd been missing that. What they were both restless for was quality time, not just face time. They had begun to get closer physically and the momentum had been interrupted. The week in between had only given Soren's anticipation time to build.
He walked to the Cove, the campus's central eatery. He wasn't scheduled for work, and apparently neither was Lucas, so at last, they could make the most of it.
The lines were short at the food stations, and Soren picked up a drink, sandwich, and chips and had time to find a table too, as he waited for Lucas. He dug his phone out and checked it for new notifications.
"If you always have your head buried in your phone, you might miss something good walking by."
Soren looked up with a smile. "Good one," he said, stowing his phone. He half-rose as Lucas dropped his bag onto the seat opposite Soren, and sank back down again as Lucas took the chair beside him after dragging it closer to Soren.
"Long time no see," Lucas said, his eyes roaming over Soren.
Weeks ago, that would have made Soren shrink back and blush. Now he wanted more.
"You saw me yesterday," Soren reminded him, reaching out to deliver a playful tap to Lucas's forearm. Lucas shifted his arm closer, and Soren drew back. Perhaps he wasn't that adventurous, not yet. At least, not with people from school all around them.
Lucas waggled his brows up and down. "That was at work. I can't kiss you at work."
"Hm, no, that's true, we'd get in trouble," Soren said. "Aren't you going to have lunch?"
"Not a bad idea." Lucas got up, patted Soren's shoulder, and walked toward one of the food stations.
Soren's eyes lingered on him. Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go. He checked his phone again and found a new email. It was from Sloane.
Haven't seen you in ages, what the hell are you up to? I know schoolwork can't have you that buried you can't even call or email me. Did Lucas break your heart? Will find out everything if you won't tell me—I'm working with both of you tomorrow, after all.
He groaned. In the heady thrall of his unfolding relationship with Lucas, he'd neglected a few emails from Sloane, forgetting to reply until proposed study get-together dates and times had passed, and now he was paying the price.
He sent her a quick, cryptic response, knowing she would discern part of it due to her father's military background.
SNAFU
"That's a serious face," Lucas said, dropping into the seat beside Soren.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Soren stowed his phone and returned his attention to Lucas. "I've kind of, um, been ignoring Sloane for a while. By accident or oversight, but she's calling me on it, and…well, she thinks you may have broken my heart."
Lucas responded with a quick, startled burst of laughter and cut it off, snickering. "She what? Okay, no, I could see that. So, you've been keeping me a secret, huh?"
"I didn't mean to—"
"It's okay," Lucas said, waving that off. "Really, I can't blame you. I've been such a player for as long as you've known me, you probably wondered if I was going to take you out and dump you, huh?"
"Not exactly," Soren said uncomfortably, but he'd been wondering exactly that. "I'll tell her tomorrow."
A grin crept over Lucas's face. "You should let me tell her."
"What? No, I don't think—"
"Come on, it'll be fun," Lucas said, wheedling. "I want to see the look on Sloane's face when I drop the 'b' word." He began wolfing his sandwich down.
Soren sighed. Further conversation would be useless. Lucas was taking such big bites, he wasn't going to be able to talk anymore.
"How'd classes go?" Lucas asked through a wad of sandwich.
Soren turned an amused grimace on him. Once again, his illusions of Lucas were dispelled. His eating habits bordered on disgusting. "That's gross. I'm not answering you unless your mouth is unoccupied."
Lucas responded with a grunt and an eye roll, but deferred conversation.
Soren felt positively prim beside him, taking normal-sized bites and washing them down with his fountain drink.
At last, Lucas swallowed, drank an enormous quantity of soda, burped—into the crook of his arm, at least—and repeated his question.
Soren sighed again, looking away as Lucas burped again.
"Come on, it's not that gross; everybody does it," Lucas said.
"I don't do it," Soren said, pointed, but shook his head and gave up the argument. It was clear Lucas had never sat at meals with an etiquette-conscious mother. "Classes were okay. I catch up on the reading, they pile on a paper or assignment, you know how it is."
"Do I ever. I have a group project for one of my business admin classes. That always sucks."
"You'd think the business majors would know how to organize that better than someone in liberal arts," Soren said, tilting his head. He ate more sandwich and thought about wrapping the rest for later.
"Hell, no. Everyone thinks they know best, that they ought to be the leader, and wants to hand out assignments and take all the credit."
"Even you?" Soren asked, flashing Lucas a teasing smile.
"Especially me," Lucas said, lifting his chin and sitting up straighter. "I'm the one who does know best."
Their eyes met and they cracked up at the same time.
After finishing their lunch together, Lucas reached over and touched Soren's wrist. "My afternoon is free," he said, inclining his head toward Soren.
"Hmm, what a coincidence," Soren said. "Mine too."
Lucas's thumb brushed over his wrist, easing in a small circle over the knob of bone where forearm joined to hand. "Want to come over to my place? We run the r
isk of unexpected roommates, but you're probably not ready to spring me on your parents yet."
"No," Soren agreed, mouth turning down.
"Hey," Lucas said, thumb sweeping up the side of Soren's hand, moving back and forth. "It's okay if you're not. I'm probably not, either." He cocked his head to the other side and offered a smile.
Soren looked at him. There was uncertainty in that smile. "Thanks," was all he said. He wanted kisses, he wanted to be held, but he didn't want to introduce Lucas to his parents. Not yet.
It was complicated.
Lucas drove them out to his place again. Soren didn't have the family car that day, so he didn't have to worry about picking up siblings. He was free to do as he liked, and after a week, all he wanted was to spend the day with Lucas. When they arrived, Jack was sprawled on the couch in front of the television, and looked up at the two of them with a sneer when they came through the door.
The look on his face made Soren want to retreat again. For that moment, it was like no time had passed between then and the last time he'd visited Lucas's apartment.
"Back for more, huh? Daye, is this a phase or what?"
Lucas's solid warmth at Soren's back was the only thing preventing Soren from walking out of the apartment.
"Let's just go to my room," Lucas muttered beside his ear, reaching down to take Soren's hand.
Soren bit his lip, but curled his fingers around Lucas's. He'd pulled away before, and it had taken this long for the two of them to find a compatible spot in their schedule. He didn't want to miss any more in-person time with Lucas.
Lucas led him up the narrow hallway at the back of the apartment, pointing to doors along the way.
"That one is Brandon's. I guess you could call him my best friend."
"You guess? You don't know?" Soren teased him, and looked down at their interconnected hands. He'd missed this closeness. His heart gave a pleasant flip.
"Shush," Lucas said, but he was smiling. "I don't categorize friends like that, but Brandon is my closest friend right now. He's the one who found this place, and the two of us decided to rope in some roommates to make the idea doable." Lucas nodded to the right as they passed the first set of doors. "That one is Jack's. He's better known as Jack-ass, by the way, even to his face."
Soren stifled a laugh. "Why room with him, then?"
"Well, we didn't realize he was such an ass when we first moved in. Brandon found him when he was looking for a fourth roommate to share rent. He's been apologizing since the first…forty-eight hours or so after the move-in." There were two more doors several feet beyond the first pair. At the very end of it, Soren could see that the hallway terminated into a bathroom. Its door was partly open, giving him a glimpse of white tile and white paneling with tan wooden piping.
"Alec is in that room," Lucas continued, gesturing to the right. A large industrial 'keep out' sign, battered and nicked, was hung on it by a nail. "Roommate number three, Alec Tse. He's nice. You'd like him." Lucas gave him a quick glance.
"What?"
"You might like him too much. I'd have to tell him 'hands off' if I had anything to worry about."
Soren frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
Soren was only too willing to let the subject drop.
"And this is my bedroom." Lucas pushed it open and they hovered on the threshold.
Soren took in the details of an unfamiliar place. He felt silly, as if he was a complete interloper there and should expect to be ejected any second.
Then Lucas was pulling him into the room, reaching up with his free hand to sweep Soren's dark hair back with a touch that lingered, giving it far more consideration than the action warranted. Soren smiled.
Lucas's room was both more and less than Soren had expected. It was austere and looked barely lived-in. The carpeting was the same beige that ran from wall to wall in the rest of the apartment, and the furniture was a matched set, made of expensive-looking dark-stained hardwood. A big four-poster bed stood in the middle of the room, and in one corner was a dark brown leather recliner, which appeared to be used as textbook and notepad storage.
Lucas shut the door behind them. It was a very adult bedroom. Soren's was cluttered with junk dating back ten years or more, holdovers from teenage and childhood years, posters taped up haphazardly on top of one another.
"Irene—my step-mom—has this decorating habit. She's the one who picked everything out."
"Wow."
"What?" Lucas prompted, sounding faintly worried.
"And…and you're not gay?" Soren asked, stifling the urge to laugh, because Lucas actually looked worried. "I mean…this room…I don't think my room has ever been this neat. And, well, coordinated."
"Hey!" Lucas socked him lightly in the arm. "Straight guys can be orderly too." He frowned. "I just haven't met one yet."
"Uh-huh." There was no place to sit aside from the bed and the chair beside the desk. "You don't have a whole lot of personal possessions."
"Oh, that." Lucas was drawing him toward the bed. It really was the only place the two of them could sit together. "When my parents moved out of state, and I moved to campus, most of my stuff had to go into storage. There's a locker out in Hillsboro with my name on it." He let go of Soren's hand to seat himself on the edge of the bed, then scooted back and tucked his legs beneath him.
The awkwardness stuck on Soren in lumps. He lingered at the edge of the bed, looking at the broad expanse of the downy-white coverlet. Where was he supposed to sit? And, did it mean Lucas expected them to do more than kiss?
Lucas tilted his head to the side. "Come here," he said, patting the coverlet. A frown appeared between his brows. "Don't worry, I'm not going to molest you just 'cause we've moved to the bedroom."
Soren's tension eased and he smiled, climbing onto the spread and looking up at Lucas through a wing of hair that slid from behind his ear, making him itch for the tie he'd left in his jacket pocket. "Oh, I don't know about that," he said, but left space between them for the moment. He was beginning to suspect that, with Lucas, it wouldn't take much to topple him, and from that, there was no going back.
Lucas looked at him intently. He cocked his head to the side, a faint smile appearing. Not for the first time, Soren controlled the urge to look over his shoulder. "What?"
Instead of answering, Lucas reached out and curled his warm fingers over the back of Soren's neck. "Come here."
Soren scooted closer on the bed and folded against him, face pressed into Lucas's shoulder, then the curve of his neck, as they moved into a comfortable half-embrace. Lucas's knee pressed against Soren's hip, and Soren inhaled his clean, faintly spicy scent. It was as though something wordless but important was being transmitted by touch. He moved, hair whispering over his shoulder and fanning out against Lucas's chest, and pressed his lips against Lucas's neck.
If I could stay in one perfect moment…Soren skimmed a hand over Lucas's thigh and settled it on his hip. This would be it. "I can't believe this."
Lucas pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "What?"
"This. I still don't quite understand it."
"Well—" Soren sensed rather than saw, the assured grin. "When I make up my mind about something, Soren, I go for it."
"You're lucky," Soren said, and he turned and was caught up, drawn into Lucas's kiss again.
Hands skimmed up Soren's back and stroked through the loose length of his hair. With soft, sensuous tugs, Soren's head was tilted back. Lucas kissed his jaw, his ear, his throat. "I can't get enough of you," he murmured, and those words unbound Soren, making him shift and bend under Lucas's hands until they lay full length on the bed spread, side by side and still trading kisses.
Soren wanted more of those hands. Where they touched, his skin shivered without moving. He turned against Lucas, clasped close, tongue swiping out to taste the hollow of his throat. It was different, there. He found his mouth watering for the taste of other places simply to compare the difference. H
e slid his hand over Lucas's waist, slow, enjoying the feel of his skin as he parted the shirt from his flesh.
Lucas made a noise and kissed him hard on the mouth, his tongue inside. His hand moved in turn down Soren's stomach. "God…I want you."
Soren bucked against him as Lucas nibbled the outer shell of his ear. He fisted his hand at the small of Lucas's back, between his shirt and skin. God, I'd give anything, he wanted to cry out. He wanted to promise whatever it took for the sensation not to stop. "Lucas," he said hoarsely, and the name fit into his mouth so well.
Lucas hummed against his neck, and his fingers tracked over the waistband of Soren's dark slacks.
Soren was hard. But when Lucas's hand found his zipper, the awkwardness returned, slamming through him full force and making his stomach knot. "Lucas," he whispered, squirming.
Lucas stopped. "Too fast?" he murmured, and it was relief of another kind that he did not sound petulant or put off.
Soren nodded, pressing his forehead to Lucas's and meeting his eyes. They were bright and hazel and focused on him.
"I do want you," Lucas whispered. "Well, I'm sure you can tell. But I know I'm the first, and I don't want to do anything that would scare you, got it? I want to move at your pace, not mine." Lucas relocated his hand and draped his arm loosely over Soren, squeezing him lightly.
Soren laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "I don't know, if we move at my pace, we might never…"
"It's okay." Lucas stroked Soren's back.
"I'm so…It's not just inexperience."
Lucas made a quizzical noise and kept stroking Soren's back, face curious, but didn't press him.
That gave Soren the courage to continue. "I'm so inhibited. Growing up in the Church…my entire upbringing is telling me that what I want is wrong, evil…sinful, even. So even though I want to, I feel like someone's looking over my shoulder, ready to call me a sinner, or tell me I'm going to be damned if I do." He gave a brief, mirthless chuckle.
Lucas pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. "I know where you're coming from," he said. "I mean, I rebelled pretty early and my dad was never particularly devout, my step-mom only made me go on holidays, but I can understand that. Feeling like someone's watching you, ready to judge you and tell you what you're doing is wrong."