"I'll take your word for it," Clay replied, trying hard not to laugh at the please believe me look on Quint's face. He squeezed Quint's hand. "Honestly, I didn't think that you did. And God only knows I've hardly been celibate, as you know all too well."
Getting up, Quint moved over to sit on the foot of Clay's chair. With sincerity in his words that matched the look on his face he said, "I don't care how many men have been in your life before now. What I do care about is the fact that I want to be the only one in your life from now on. I mean, if it's all right with you."
Clay swallowed hard, unable to do anything more than nod for a moment before he wrapped his arms tightly around Quint and gave him a heartfelt kiss in reply. Unsurprisingly—he thought later—that led to more kisses and several embraces as they moved from the backyard to Quint's bedroom. Once there, they shed their clothes and Clay proceeded to show Quint exactly how willing he was to let Quint be the one and only man in his life.
CHAPTER TEN
"You're sure that's it?" Clay asked, looking at the boxes and a few pieces of furniture in the back of the truck Quint had rented.
It was six months after what they now referred to as The Element Case. Since then, they had been trading off, spending their free time at either Quint's house or the loft, depending on Clay's painting schedule.
Then, a few days ago, Quint had come into the loft, marched over to where Clay was working on his latest painting, kissed him and said, "I'm tired of commuting."
After returning the kiss, Clay cocked an eyebrow in question.
"Sometimes we're here, sometimes we're there. I think we should combine households."
"It's about time you said so," Clay replied. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd suggest it."
"Me? What about you?" Quint countered.
"You own a house."
"You own the loft."
"You've lived at your place forever. I figured you had to decide if you were willing to share it permanently or give it up."
"This is where you work. This space is perfect for you. Me? I'm flexible." Quint leaned against the work table, looking at Clay. "Yeah, I've been there for a while, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to move, and it would be easier for me to do that than for you and—"
"So you're saying you want to live here?"
Quint frowned. "You don't like the idea? Okay, I know it hasn't worked well for you in the past but I thought…"
Stepping in front of Quint, Clay put his hands on his lover's shoulders. "I think it's a fantastic idea."
"I figure, if you don't want me moving in here or if you think this place was too small for both of us, that I, we, could turn my office into your studio but it's pretty small and there's not much natural light and so—"
Clay stopped Quint's babbling by kissing him, then he said, "What part of 'I think it's fantastic' didn't you understand?"
Quint grinned. "None of it. I just had this whole speech planned out and I guess I had to give it no matter what."
"Well you did, and if you're willing to sell your place—"
"Consider it done. I'll put it on the market tomorrow." Quint cupped Clay's face with his hands. "I promise I won't bother you when you're painting, as long as you're not doing it twenty-four seven."
"I think I can take an occasional break. After all, I've been doing that pretty consistently recently."
"True enough." After giving Clay a quick kiss, Quint asked, "Would this weekend be too soon?"
"It's not soon enough, but all things considered, it's probably better than our staying up all night getting your stuff packed."
"Not that I have that much I need to bring with me. We don't need more furniture in here, other than my bookcases."
"And your dresser. Mine's full already."
"Okay. And my desk, because of my computer."
Clay nodded, heading into the living room area. "If we rearrange the furniture, you could have a sort of office space there," he said, pointing to the corner of the room where the main wall met the short one that separated the kitchen from the dining area.
"That would work."
"We could do that now."
"Nope." Quint took him in his arms. "Tomorrow night. Tonight we're celebrating. So go—"
"Change clothes." They both laughed. Clay looked at what Quint was wearing, a pair of dark slacks and a blue shirt. "I think I have something that isn't jeans."
"Better have, because we're going to McCormick's."
"You are going all out."
"Only the best for my new roommate."
Clay snorted. "I think we've moved beyond the roommate status."
"Seems like," Quint agreed.
* * * *
Now, four days later, they had packed up the truck and were about to take off for the loft.
"You're sure that's it?"
"Yes, it's all I want to bring with me," Quint replied to Clay's question. "The rest of the stuff, as I told you, is going to the local homeless shelter. They'll be by Monday morning with a couple of trucks to pick it up. Then the cleaning company the Realtor suggested comes in, and that's that." He leaned against the truck, looking at what had been his home for the past ten years.
"You can still change your mind," Clay said quietly.
"Not happening. It's just a house. Your place—"
"Our place."
Quint nodded. "Our place, the loft, is home now, and I wouldn't have it any other way." Turning away, he got into the truck, waiting for Clay to go around and get in on the passenger side.
An hour later they had everything in the loft, with Quint's desk, dresser, and bookcases in place.
"Time for a cold drink," Clay proclaimed, getting two bottles of water from the fridge, tossing one to Quint.
Quint caught it before collapsing on the sofa. "Come here," he said.
Clay settled down beside him, chuckling when Quint put one arm around his shoulders to pull him closer. "We're hot and sweaty and you want to cuddle?"
"Yeah I do. Got any objections?"
"Not really." Clay rested his head on Quint's shoulder for a moment, then looked up at him. "Who knew, six months ago, that I'd stop being… What was it the kid called me?"
"A prick. And you were, back then. An ass, I think I said at the time."
"A certified ass, actually. I probably still am, except around you and Amanda."
"No," Quint replied. "You've mellowed into a person who tolerates people now. Don't get me wrong, you'll never be the outgoing life of the party. We saw that at the opening of your newest show last month. You actually talked to people without snarling or running for the nearest exit."
"It's all your fault."
"How do you figure?"
"You forced yourself on me."
Quint harrumphed. "I did not. I had to protect you once I decided you weren't the killer. And I stuck around long enough for you to figure out I was a good guy who was good for you, despite the fact you didn't want to admit it."
"It did take me a while."
"Me too. I wasn't all that sure you were worth the fight, even after our first time in bed. At best, I figured we'd make good fuck buddies, if both of us were willing."
"And we are," Clay grinned wickedly. Then he put one hand behind Quint's head and kissed him—a long, slow kiss that Quint returned in kind—at first. Soon, it became hungry, demanding. "Bedroom, now," Clay said breathlessly.
Quint was standing seconds later, pulling Clay to his feet. "Yours or mine?" he asked, amusement lighting his face as he pulled off his shirt.
"Ours," Clay replied. "All ours." His shirt joined Quint's on the floor as they made their way to their bedroom. It was quickly followed by shoes, and jeans until, by the time they reached the bed, they were down to socks and briefs. Those were soon dispensed with as well, before they tumbled onto the bed and Clay said, "Our bed, our bedroom, our home and by all that's holy, I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Me neither," Quint replied emphatically as he began hi
s exploration of a body he knew so very well by now. "Me neither."
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and bred Cleveland, I earned a degree in technical theater, later switched to costuming, and headed to NYC. Finally seeing the futility of trying to become rich and famous in the Big Apple, I joined VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America), ending up in Chicago for three years. Then it was on to Denver where I put down roots and worked as a costume designer until just recently.
I began writing a few years ago after joining an on-line fanfic group. Two friends and I then started a group for writers where they may post any story they wish no matter the genre or content. Since then, for the last four years, I've been writing for publication. Most, but not all, of my work is m/m, either mildly erotic or purely 'romantic', and more often than not it involves a mystery or action/adventure.
Blog:
http://edwardkendrick.blogspot.com/
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/edward.kendrick.5
Google+
https://plus.google.com/u/0/115527711406227698357/about
Email:
[email protected]
TITLES BY EDWARD KENDRICK
Available from Fireborn Publishing:
Sui Generis
The Housemate
Talbot and the Enforcers
Revenge
You Do What You Have To
The Hybrid Series
Don't Touch Me
Off On the Wrong Foot
The Element Case
TO CATCH A KIDNAPPER
Allyn and Ransom
Henri
Available from Wilde City Press
The Actor and the Thief
Majors' Folly
L'histoire de Francois – Vampire
The Vampire's Angel
Garth's Chronicle
Available from JMS Books
Sins of the Fathers
Hell, Look at Me
Wrong Side of the Law
Surviving
The City PI and the Country Cop
Art Theft 101
Never Let Go of Hope
Let Go of Loneliness
Love and Christmas
C21
Dylan's Dilemma
Sean's Predicament
Tate's Quandary
Available from Totally Bound/Pride Publishing
Yin and Yang
The Hit Man Cometh
Reaper
Available from Dreamspinner Press
You Belong to Me
The Element Case Page 11