He put his hand over Zeb’s, fingers tracing the scars. It was a part of Zeb Silver knew nothing about. He rubbed the oddly smooth part where a piece was missing from the outside of the index finger.
“What happened?”
“Improper use of a machete.”
Silver reared up and spun around. “Someone—”
“Me. I was the one with a machete. Trying to cut something I was holding on to at the time. Bad decision.”
Silver settled back down and lifted Zeb’s hand, tracing the ragged one from pinky all the way across his hand.
“Torn on a nail. And yes, I’d had a tetanus shot.”
Silver pulled the other hand out from where it was under Zeb’s head and pillow.
Without the question, Zeb said, “Crushed. Concrete block. They’re a little hard to bend in rainy weather, but I can still write. And make enough of a fist for other purposes.”
Silver couldn’t really see Zeb’s wry smile but heard it in his voice. Normally he’d dive right into the opportunity for dirty jokes, but he didn’t feel like it now. “I thought you were teaching.”
“And helping to build the school. And houses and churches. Where I was, if there were four walls and a roof, it was a luxury. Tents were the best accommodations.”
“Why did you stay?”
“I liked teaching kids who really wanted to learn. Not that it isn’t fun trying to trick bored tenth graders into liking geometry. But the kids there, they had to go through so much to get to school, they wanted to be there.”
Silver remembered Gavin talking about passion. This was Zeb’s. And Silver had almost cost him the chance to ever do it again. “Sorry you didn’t get to stay until you were ready to leave.”
“I’m not. Things happen for a reason.”
Before Silver could roll his eyes about God having a plan that included Silver being HIV positive, Zeb said, “I know that’s not something you’re interested in talking about, so call it fate or whatever, but I’m glad we got the chance to see each other, put all that behind us.”
“It wasn’t all bad.” Silver’s voice came out as a whisper.
“No. Definitely not.”
Silver found Zeb’s mouth in the dark, kissed the smile there. Kept on kissing him because if Silver stopped, he was afraid the hard lump he was swallowing around would turn into actual tears, and that would ruin everything.
Zeb’s lips opened, and Silver fell into the feeling of how right it was when their tongues slid past each other. Every time they kissed it felt like the first time, like he had found something he’d always needed. He held on to the sides of Zeb’s face to keep him there, because the way things worked in Silver’s world, there was no telling how long he’d get to have this.
Zeb wrapped his arms around Silver and rolled him under, Zeb’s weight so perfectly balanced on Silver they fit together like puzzle pieces.
And tired or not, there was definitely the potential for interlocking pieces if Zeb kept rubbing against Silver like that.
“Want you.” Zeb’s words were so close to Silver’s mouth it was like they were his own. “Want to suck you. Please.”
Silver bucked his hips, dick on board despite Silver’s big head being slow to follow.
Zeb’s lips and tongue shifted under Silver’s chin, down his neck, onto his breastbone.
“Pull off,” he warned.
“I will.” Zeb was already kissing his way onto Silver’s belly.
He lifted his hips to help Zeb tug off the boxer briefs Silver should have ditched with the rest of his clothes, and then Zeb’s mouth was there, tight around the tip, hot and wet and a flicking tongue.
Silver’d had better, more practiced blow jobs. But that didn’t matter when Zeb’s silky hair brushed his thighs, when it was the shine of Zeb’s eyes meeting Silver’s as he stared down.
Zeb might not have learned every trick, but with one hand cupping and lifting Silver’s balls and the other on the shaft matching the bob of Zeb’s head, Silver thought those tricks were overrated. A holy-fuck intensity was just fine. He wanted Zeb’s tongue to rub the head like that forever, until the pressure from the roof of his mouth felt even better. Back and forth between the sensations with hard friction on the shaft.
Silver’s neck arched, head flung over the pillow, hands dropping to Zeb’s hair as the sensation built, an arc toward the sky, a long swing up as the pleasure spiked in his balls. They tightened, and Zeb’s hand fell away. A drop of tension on the return swing, and then it rushed back in, stronger, bigger. Flooding into his cock, buzzing, rushing with his blood.
He pushed deeper into the wet heat, surprising a gasp and a hum from Zeb’s lips, and he hit the edge. With a frantic shove at Zeb’s head, he spat, “Off. Oh fuck, off.”
Zeb moved, and Silver’s hips bucked, and if he didn’t hit the ceiling with the first shot, it sure as hell felt like it. He grabbed his cock to finish it, pulling out a rope that hit his shoulder, and then, shit, two more on his belly.
Zeb’s hair tickled the insides of Silver’s thighs, head resting on Silver’s hip.
Silver let out a long breath. “Fuck.” He didn’t know if he’d ever come so hard before.
Zeb dragged a finger through the puddle on Silver’s stomach and put a soft, wet kiss on his hipbone.
Everything in him wanted to drag Zeb up like a blanket and sink into sleep, but he really should offer reciprocation.
He took another deep breath of the come-sweat smell of them and shifted into motion. His ankle slid through a cooling wet spot.
Guess he knew where the hand on his balls had gone off to. “Yeah?”
“Didn’t think I’d want to after double action today, but when you made that sound… things got urgent.”
Silver didn’t remember making a sound, but after swallowing, he realized his throat hurt. “Oh shit.” Eli would rag on him forever.
“I really thought tonight we could just sleep.” There was an apology in Zeb’s tone.
A blow job before bed was not the kind of thing that should require an apology.
Silver rubbed a thumb across Zeb’s mouth. “How do you like to sleep?” The mouth under Silver’s thumb curved.
“On my back.”
“Perfect.” Silver rolled to the far edge of the bed to make room for Zeb to shift out of the wet spot. As soon as he was settled, Silver crawled up onto his chest and tangled their legs together.
Zeb sighed. “I should shower.”
“It’s down the hall,” Silver said through a yawn.
“Are you going to let me up?”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good.” Zeb wrapped his arms around Silver.
Gray light met Silver’s eyes when he opened them. Despite the hard surface of Zeb’s chest and the dried come sticking their chests together, Silver hadn’t woken once during the night. Now Zeb’s fingers slipped through Silver’s hair, and even the nudge of his bladder wasn’t enough to keep him from drifting back to sleep.
Until his pillow heaved a sigh. “Gotta shower.”
“Yeah, you do. You reek of sex.” Silver hitched his arm tighter around Zeb’s ribs. The rumble under Silver’s head warned him of the laugh before it gusted across his ear.
“You really aren’t helpful at all.”
“If that means I can sleep here for a few more minutes, it’s good.”
The stroke of Zeb’s hand sent tingles down Silver’s spine, spreading out like warmth to his fingers and toes.
“Do you have a shift today?”
“No.”
Again, he could hear the change in Zeb’s mood, the gathering of air in his chest as he hesitated.
Silver lifted his head. “What?”
“I wondered if you wanted to maybe go out tonight. To a movie?”
Silver lowered his head again and worked his hand to reach the base of Zeb’s spine. “Or we could just have sex.”
Because after months of being uninterested, suddenly it was on his brain every minute.
If his dick wasn’t sore enough to register a protest, he’d have started grinding against Zeb the minute they woke up.
“I’d like that too.” Zeb squeezed him. “I know it might sound stupid, but it’s something I wished we could have done before. And I know how much you love movies.”
Silver did. But money to waste on a movie hadn’t exactly been part of his financial situation for the last couple of years.
“I don’t know about you,” Zeb murmured, “but no matter how much I want to again right now, my dick needs a few more hours off.”
Silver laughed. “A movie is good.”
“I’ll see you here when I get out.”
It was probably good Silver had fallen back asleep by the time Zeb got back from the shower, or Silver might have tried to see if wanting was stronger than the ouch-not-now. But he got up on his own for breakfast and his pill, which turned out to be good because Eli seemed really distracted.
Not sad, but for Eli, quiet. Like he had a lot to think about. Since Eli usually thought things through out loud, the quiet was deafening. It wasn’t as if Silver had wanted Eli to tease about Zeb, but this felt off.
Eli puttered around the kitchen while Silver shoveled in some cereal. Now he handed over a mug of coffee and winced as he sat down in a kitchen chair.
“Jesus fuck, Eli. Did Quinn go too far?” Silver was on his feet before he realized it, adrenaline not particular about details like Quinn being off at work, and Silver and Eli both living in Quinn’s house.
The wide-eyed expression on Eli’s face was more reassuring than his words. “No. Not at all.” He shifted, grimaced, and then grinned. “You know I love it.”
Silver sat back down with a grunt. He didn’t get it. But who was he to judge it? Still didn’t explain why Eli was so weird this morning.
“What were you going to do?” Eli raised his coffee mug. “Go punch him in the mouth?”
“I don’t know,” Silver admitted.
“I can take care of myself, thanks.”
But Eli put the mug back down without drinking any, and Silver had to ask, “Then what’s going on?”
“We did have a… thing. About you.”
“Me?” Quinn was the one who’d been so adamant about Silver not sleeping over at Zeb’s. So that must mean it was Eli’s nerves Silver was getting on. “I’ll be out of here before you finish your coffee.”
“Sit down.” Eli snapping at a guy was a lot more intimidating than Silver would have imagined. “Where were you going to go, Zeb’s?”
Silver hadn’t considered it. Back into the city was all he knew. The idea of being where he wasn’t wanted tore a scab off a wound he didn’t even know he had. He shrugged.
“I like having you here. I’m still not used to all this time to myself. Quinn likes you here, because he knows I have someone to talk to.”
“So what’s the issue?”
“You know how yesterday Quinn said I moved in after one date?”
“Yeah.” Silver drank some of his coffee. He wasn’t in the mood for it black but didn’t want to interrupt Eli to go to the fridge.
“It was true. And we got to talking about what was the big deal if you wanted to stay at Zeb’s, and after Quinn did his duty-and-honor shit about the judge, he said it wouldn’t be good.”
What the hell was that about? “I thought he liked Zeb.”
“He does. Says he’s a really good teacher.”
Maybe Silver wasn’t good enough for Zeb? Silver wouldn’t bother pointing that out to Eli, he’d probably get all defensive. “So what’s Quinn’s issue, then?”
“I don’t know. He just gave me the don’t-worry-your-pretty-head look that pisses me off and—” Eli cut himself off.
Silver wasn’t sure if he should ask. If he wanted to hear what Eli was trying not to say.
“And?” But it seemed like the least he could do if his being around was fucking up what the awesome thing Eli had going here.
“And if it wouldn’t be good for you to move in with Zeb when you don’t have anyplace else to live and you’ve known each other for years, maybe me being here with Quinn….” That time Eli let it trail away.
“No. No way. You—the way he looks at you? And he is fucking lucky to have you.”
“Damn right he is.” But there was something in his voice to suggest Eli didn’t quite believe his own words.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. Go downtown, buy you something to wear, and when you look hotter than even you usually do, you’ll ask him right out if you being here isn’t the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“You know, that’s kind of a good plan.” Eli gulped down some coffee.
“I know,” Silver said.
“And here I thought you were the one who made stupid, impulsive decisions.”
“Thanks a fucking lot.”
Chapter Nineteen
SILVER PEERED through the glass-fronted cabinets at the ice cream containers. The battle between curiosity and disgust was making the decision hard.
Eli nudged him. “Get the strawberry-basil. Ooo, no, the lavender-Earl Grey tea.”
Feeling guilty about being the cause of whatever kind of thing Eli and Quinn had had, Silver had suggested a treat after Eli was done picking through his favorite secondhand-clothing store. He didn’t expect a place like Take Your Licks.
“It’s so awesome,” Eli had said as he dragged Silver to the counter.
“Blue crab ice cream?”
“It’s Bawlmer, hon,” Eli had said as he eagerly accepted samples of combinations that should never have existed.
Silver declined Eli’s spoon sharing and kept staring at the demented blends. On the Just Vanilla, We Promise was a neon orange tag labeling it For Wimps. Silver wasn’t ready for blue crab, but that was too much of a dare to ignore.
“Chipotle chocolate,” he told the girl behind the counter.
“Damn,” Eli said, “I’ve already had that one.”
Sometimes Eli took the notion of sharing a little too far. He hemmed and hawed for a few minutes before deciding on Old Bay-caramel-bacon.
Silver paid an insane price for two cones, and Eli tugged him toward a plate-sized table and chairs made out of wire.
“It’s too hot to eat ice cream outside.”
The chairs were about as uncomfortable as they looked, but Silver spun it around to straddle it, and that was better.
“Mmmm.” Eli licked the cream off his lips and pushed his waffle cone toward Silver. “Want some?”
“I’d rather blow a syphilitic wino.”
“Not much money in that.”
“No, thank fuck.” Silver shuddered.
“How’s yours?” Eli went back to giving enthusiastic head to his unnatural mix of ingredients.
The inside of Silver’s mouth was on fire, but the chocolate was rich and intense. He kind of loved it.
“Not bad.”
Eli’s sneaker thudded into Silver’s bare shin. “Ow.”
Eli didn’t miss one deep lick of his cone. “What are you going to do?”
Silver stopped rubbing his shin and looked at Eli. Knowing what Eli was asking and knowing how to answer him were two different things. And it made his brain go back to chasing its tail over what Quinn had meant about it not being good for Silver to move in with Zeb—as if he’d been planning on it. Maybe Quinn had been referring to Zeb leaving for two months.
Stalling, he lapped at the spicy chocolate, broke off a piece of the waffle cone, and chewed. Sweet and still crunchy, it was perfect with the burn on his tongue.
Eli paused, ice cream at his lips, looking at Silver through thick dark bangs. It was one hell of a sexy look. But it was ice cream, not a dick. And it was Eli, so Silver was relatively immune, if not completely unaffected.
“I mean, since there’s not a lot of money in the syphilitic-wino clientele.” Eli sucked on his cone. “Not that you can’t stay with us for a while, even after you see the judge.”
“After
I see the judge, I might be staying in jail, Eli.”
Eli flapped his hand like that was impossible.
“I know Gavin got me a good lawyer, and I owe you both for that, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to jail.”
“’Kay, but suppose you don’t.” Eli dropped that part of the argument. “You can stay with us. And no matter what the bug up Quinn’s ass is about it, I can tell Zeb would be happy to let you stay with him.”
They were barely at the point where they didn’t keep using the past to carve big slices in each other. “Except Zeb’s not going to be here much longer.”
“What?” Eli’s hand slapped down on the table. “Where’s he going? If Quinn knew—”
“Save the drama, please. Your eight-dollar ice cream cone will melt. Zeb is going back to work at that camp where he met Quinn. I assume your Daddy is staying home to tuck you into bed every night.”
Eli’s cheeks flushed, and he shifted on the chair. Whatever kind of tucking-in had gone on last night, it must have been one hell of a time.
“He’s leaving the Friday after my court date. I don’t even know if he’s keeping his apartment. Guess Quinn wins this round. I won’t be moving in with Zeb.”
“Bastard. I hate having to tell Quinn he’s right.” Eli pouted. “And how could Zeb just leave after all you guys have been through?”
“I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen with Zeb, but if I don’t go to jail, I’m hoping to get an apartment closer to the restaurant. I can manage a security deposit off what I’ve saved since I went full-time there. Course the lawyer says I’ve got to tell ’em my real social and start paying taxes and not get paid under the table.”
“How’s that going to go over?”
“The owner’s kind of a stoner-hippy type, so if I tell him I was in witness protection, he’d probably buy it.”
Eli snorted into his puke-colored Old Bay-caramel-bacon ice cream. Spit could only be an improvement.
“Manager’ll be pissed. But right now he barely has bodies to cover the shifts, so he won’t fire my ass. And you’ve got ice cream all over your nose.”
Eli licked as much as he could before giving in and using the skimpy napkin wrapped around the cone.
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