by Kelly Jensen
“Also, you wanted to get into Mr. M.’s pants,” Josh said.
“And I wanted to get into Mal’s pants. Yes.”
Mal gaped. “Um . . .”
Brian shot him a grin, which died an oddly quick death. “But, hey, mission accomplished. Now we’re all off the hook.”
“Seriously?” Josh spoke up, taking the words out of Mal’s mouth. “This is not the conversation we had last night.”
Mal started edging toward the hallway. So he was a coward. Brian made it easy.
Josh looked from Mal to Brian and back again. “I’m going to go upstairs and listen to music. Loud music. So, um, maybe you two can talk.”
Brian waved a hand, either acknowledging or giving permission, and Josh left.
Mal made to follow him down the hall until Brian blocked the doorway.
“I really think I should go,” Mal said.
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Then why would you make a remark like that?”
“Because I’m an—”
“You’re not an asshole, Brian. And if we’re ever going to make something out of this, whatever this thing is we’ve got going, then you need to stop pretending you are.”
Brian caught his gaze and held it, his soft blue eyes shaded with sadness. “I think I’m finally beginning to understand that.”
“Good.”
“I didn’t tell you about Simon because it felt like it was this huge big deal. Usually guys don’t want to hear about exes. That was in the past, right? Shouldn’t be relevant. But even I know a relationship of that length is kind of relevant, especially when I’m the one who messed it up.”
“How do you know that? It takes two to tangle.”
“Tango.”
“Whatever.”
“Because I cheated on him. A lot. And I lied about it. A lot. That’s why I think I’m an asshole, okay? Because I spent twelve years breaking another man’s heart.”
Not what he’d expected—not that he’d had a specific expectation for this conversation. Mal wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to accomplish by giving Josh a lift home, except to put himself in close proximity to Brian. Because he missed him. Because he hadn’t treated him fairly. And because he wanted Brian’s side of the story.
“Leo said I should ask Simon about it because he’d tell the truth,” Mal said.
“Yeah, well, there it is.”
Mal gestured toward the hall. “Mind if I sit down and prop my legs for a while?”
“Oh, sure.” Brian visibly shook himself. “Want me to get some ice or a heating pad?”
Mal felt himself smiling. “No. I just need to sit.”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because I really like you, Brian Kenway.”
Brian’s forehead wrinkled. “I am so confused.”
“I like that too.”
Brian followed Mal down the hall, a hand at the small of his back, and spent considerable time arranging cushions on the couch until Mal was propped, his legs stretched out in front of him, feet up on another stack of cushions.
Finally, Brian sat down on the love seat and leaned forward, elbows to his knees. “So, did you miss the part about me cheating and lying?”
“No.”
“Why are you here, then?”
“Because I’m not Simon.”
“Then why did you leave the bar?”
“Because I was hurt and confused and . . . I don’t know. Confused. It’s not like I haven’t had a long-term relationship before, or thought you hadn’t, but I had this picture of you in my head, and it didn’t include a guy who looks like he was made by God’s hands alone. A guy you spent all afternoon talking to and touching and gazing at as though you could see the marks of His craftsmanship.”
Brian leaned back with a long sigh.
“Do you still have feelings for him?” Mal asked.
“No.” Brian sought his gaze and held it, his expression solemn. “I miss him sometimes. That’s the truth. But . . . we talked after you left, and I think I figured out what I’ve been trying to hold on to.”
Mal’s stomach twisted. “What’s that?”
“That version of me, maybe? Of a guy who could do things right.”
“Sounds like you did everything wrong. If you don’t mind me saying so.”
“The mind is a funny thing, isn’t it?” Brian had his hands in his hair now, massaging back and forth. “I thought I was trying to hang on to something good because the most I ever did with my life was with Simon. But now I realize what I was hanging on to was . . . not rotten. But a corpse, nonetheless. I’ve been stuck in place.” He moved his hands back to his lap, squeezing his knees. “Or I was, until I met you.”
“I am so not crafted by a god.”
“Funny you should say that.”
“Why?”
“I was trying to tell Josh the other day that he’s as God made him. I’m not big on religion, but that was one of the excuses Ellen threw out along with her son. Ellen’s his mother. My sister. Can’t remember if I told you that. But I got to thinking that we’re all as we were made, aren’t we?”
Mal considered that for a moment because clearly Brian needed him to think about it. To not give a glib answer. “Do you think that means we can’t change?” he finally asked, wondering if this was the point of their conversation. If this was where Brian would tell him he’d always be a lying, cheating asshole and that they shouldn’t continue to see each other.
And that made him more than merely sad. It hadn’t been long, but losing Brian would hurt. He’d never been with a man like this. Someone so complicated, yet bright. A man with so much goodness inside, and who needed help exposing it. Help to be who he really was.
Brian glanced over. “I don’t know. Have you changed? Are you the same guy who lost his football scholarship?”
“I didn’t lose it. I had the grades to keep it.”
“Jesus Christ. I found myself another Simon, didn’t I?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were born perfect.”
Mal wished he could push up off the couch without disturbing a hundred pillows and maybe tripping over the coffee table in the process. “No one is perfect, Brian. Not me, not Simon, not Charlie, not you. Not even Josh, though the blue hair is probably a step closer than we’ll ever get.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because he’s trying to find his perfect, isn’t he? While we’re sitting here feeling old and mortal and maybe a little bit broken.”
Brian’s brow creased. “Is that how you feel?”
“Yes.” And the weight of it was heavy and not at all supported by his ridiculous castle of cushions. “I was told this week I should use a cane. I’ve developed a fracture in one of the bones of my left leg. Too much standing or maybe not enough pins or just . . . I don’t know. I’m feeling very mortal right now.”
Brian got up and sat next to him. “I’m so sorry, Mal. I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“You are such a complete person. You have this amazing career that you love. You’re so great with the kids. You’re part of a community. People like and respect you. You have a gorgeous house that you obviously take care of. Houses . . . they say so much about a person. It’s like a structure. Your house is solid and dependable, but it’s also well-kept. It’s nice to look at, and dependable doesn’t mean it isn’t fun. There’s so much of you there. All your weird little statues.”
“My gaming miniatures. You saw those?”
“And your books and the colors you put on the walls, the plank you chose for your flooring. It was when I saw the inside of your house that I really wanted to get to know you better. I already wanted to fuck you . . . but that house, Mal. It’s you.”
“Wow.”
Brian leaned in close. “I was going to let you cool off for a couple of days. Then try to explain the Simon thing.”
“What sort of hous
e does Simon live in?”
Brian grinned. “He lives at Charlie’s place and Charlie’s place is Charlie all over and . . .” His smile faded, but not in a bitter way. “And it’s the sort of house Simon always wanted to live in.”
“Oh God, is it messy?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Mal laughed. “I think this could be the oddest conversation I’ve ever had.”
“You and me both. Can I kiss you yet?”
“Why?”
“Because that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? So we can kiss and make up?”
“Yeah. But before we get to that part, I need to apologize.”
Brian leaned back. “What for?”
“For overreacting.” Mal held up a hand. “It’s none of my business. You’re right. The past is the past and . . . I should have left it there. I’m sorry.”
Brian put his palm to Mal’s and folded their fingers together. “I think it was a conversation we needed to have.”
“Maybe.” Mal swallowed. “You’re new territory for me. I’m a look-don’t-touch guy. I always have been. I daydream about being with men like you. About doing something other than go home to my cat and paint a battlefield with sixteen-year-old blood.”
Brian blinked.
“Virtual blood. PlayStation? I’m not, um, very good at real life.”
“Did you miss the part where I told you how great your life is? I’ve seen you around, Mal, and you want to know what’s funny?”
“Always.”
“You’re new territory for me too. Took me a while to figure out how to approach you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because you’re not a one-night thing. You’re . . . I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
Mal got it anyway, and beneath a searing blush, he was enormously flattered and somewhat humbled. But he believed Brian meant what he said, or rather couldn’t find the words to say. Because if it had only been about the sex, then they wouldn’t be sitting here with their fingers tangled together, staring at each other like this meant something. As though this moment had been foretold or some such literary wonderfulness.
“I wasn’t sure if I should do this. Come here this afternoon,” he said.
Brian smiled. “I’m glad you came.”
“Haven’t come yet.”
Groaning, Brian leaned in and captured his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. “That joke is forevermore banished. Done. Never to be used again.” He brought up a hand to cup Mal’s cheek, his thumb hooking around Mal’s ear, and the gesture, combined with the renewed kiss, plucked a chord inside him. Near his heart. This was the real Brian, the man underneath the brash exterior. This sweet and gentle being, perched next to him, careful not to put any weight on Mal’s bad knee.
Mal lifted his chin to join the kiss fully, and brought his own weight to bear. His reality. His need. All he’d missed over the past four days.
Brian hummed into the kiss, enjoying the flavor of coffee and brownies. Mal always had a different and decadent taste, as though he were a buffet of samples. Beneath, however, was the essence of the man Brian knew lurked inside the quiet exterior. The glasses, the book collections, and the weird little gaming things. The cat fur that clung to his clothes.
Pulling back, he plucked Mal’s glasses from his nose, waiting for Mal to turn one ear toward him so he could unhook that arm. He set the glasses on the coffee table and put both hands to the sides of Mal’s face before leaning in to kiss him again. Still softly. He wanted to devour this man, but he also wanted to worship him. Dot his face with small kisses. Touch his own tongue to the prickly line of Mal’s jaw. Taste his full lips again. Kiss each eye closed.
“This would be easier upstairs,” he murmured over the perfect shell of Mal’s ear. “We could lie side by side and play.”
“We could.” Mal’s breath was hot on his cheek. “How loud does Josh play his music?”
Brian laughed. “Loud enough. He heard me jerking off one morning and has kept his earbuds in since.”
“Were you thinking about me?”
This was one of the things he liked most about Mal. His quick imagination. The fact he had such sexy thoughts and rarely appeared abashed by them. Brian dropped a kiss to Mal’s lips. “Mm-hmm. You were in my bed, propped up against the headboard. I was straddling you, hips level with your face—”
“Fucking my mouth. God, yes. Let’s do that.”
“Really?”
“Can’t believe you fantazied about me.”
“Are you kidding?” Brian kissed him again. “Give me one of yours.”
“You on your knees in front of the couch. You pretty much made all my dreams come true that night.”
Grinning, Brian backed off the couch and held up a hand. “Then let’s start on some fresh material.” Mal tried to play off his awkwardness in getting upright and ascending the stairs, and Brian put a quick stop to it. “Not always going to be like this, and even if it was, the leg brace isn’t you, Mal. Just be you, okay?”
They got to the top of the stairs, where the door to the spare bedroom was already shut tight. Brian paused for a brief moment, under the guise of letting Mal find his feet, and wondered if he was setting a bad example for his nephew. Then decided that Josh already knew he and Mal were sleeping together and that knowledge meant he was getting a better idea of what a healthy, adult relationship was all about. So long as he and Mal kept it healthy.
Okay, enough thinking for now.
Brian got Mal into his room and started undressing him. “You need to be anywhere tonight?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Good, because even though my dick is all ‘Let’s get busy,’ I want to take my time with you.”
Mal groaned. “Jesus, don’t say things like that or it’ll all be over before we get my pants off.”
“Could work for us. A quick detour, then a long, leisurely drive?”
“I’m fifty, Brian. Did you know that?”
Brian kissed the self-depreciating smirk off of Mal’s lips. “You’re not dead, and I’m only a year and a half behind you.”
He’d managed to get Mal’s sweater and shirt off and took a moment to smooth his palms over Mal’s shoulders, letting his thumbs trail through the fuzz of hair at the top of Mal’s pecs. Bending, he flicked his tongue over one nipple, then the other. Mal’s shudder answered the question of whether he liked that. Brian spent some time there, sucking and plucking, until Mal gripped his hair and pulled him back.
“You need to stop.”
“Like that, hmm?”
“A little too much. And you’re still dressed.”
So he was. Brian remedied that situation, kicking his clothes into a pile just clear of the door, and then helped Mal with shoes, leg brace, and pants. Then came the stacking of pillows.
“Before we get to Fantasy A, can we lie together for a bit?” Mal asked. “Facing each other.”
“We can do that.”
Mal got on his right side, bad knee braced against the bed.
Brian slid in next to him so their bodies touched all the way down. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“Mmm,” Mal agreed.
Brian leaned in for a kiss, and Mal met him halfway, their lips coming into contact only briefly before seeming to melt away as they fell into a deeper kiss. Mal wrapped one arm around Brian’s shoulders and pushed his other hand to Brian’s chest, fingers digging in at intervals as he explored, kneaded, touched. Brian looped his own arm lower, bringing their hips together, and their cocks clashed, hard flesh to hard flesh. Mal moaned into his mouth. Brian felt his ass clench. He liked the idea of thrusting into Mal’s mouth, but having Mal inside him again was suddenly infinitely more appealing.
Grabbing Mal’s hand, Brian moved it down between them, to their dueling erections. Mal immediately wrapped his fingers around both of them and tugged. “Hmm, so good.”
“How long until you can put weight on your knee?” Brian asked.
“
Too long. Want to fuck you so bad.”
“Want that too.”
“We could try side to side. Save the face-fuck for later.” Mal paused. “Or the morning.”
Brian grinned. “Morning. Yeah. Want to send you to school in the same clothes you wore yesterday.”
Mal laughed. “You think you’re clever, but I’ve got you on this one. I am the world’s most boring dresser. All my pants and shirts look the same.”
“Damn it.” Brian squeezed a nipple. “Going to have to make you wear one of my shirts, then.”
Mal pushed him away. “Go get your stuff and then give me that ass.”
God, yes. “You’re a hidden gem.”
“What do you mean?”
“That quiet, reserved thing you’ve got going. The fact you don’t mind topping. I had no idea how much you’d be into that.”
Mal’s smile was quiet. “You didn’t consider the angles before approaching me?”
“Briefly? I wanted to get to know you, and I figured the sex stuff would either sort itself out or it wouldn’t, but it never hurts to try.”
A brief nod. “Just so you know, I’m flexible.”
Brian felt his forehead crease even before he’d thought to frown. “Are you really, or is that what you decided you need to be?”
Disquiet flashed through Mal’s eyes, there and gone. Then he gave another nod. This one firmer. “It’s what I am.”
“Good.” Brian dropped another kiss to his lips before rolling away to find condoms and lube. When he rolled back, Mal was flexing his legs. “We good to go?” he asked.
“Yep.” Mal made a beckoning motion with his fingers. “Gimme. I want to slick you up.” He met Brian’s gaze. “That okay? Want to feel you.”
“God, yes.”
Brian tossed the supplies over and lined himself up facing away from Mal, smiling as Mal molded himself to his back and kissed his neck. “You always smell like oranges. Why is that?”
“It’s my shampoo.”
Mal nibbled his neck. “Love it.”
It was a casual remark, but Brian tucked it away as something to take out and cherish later. Sentimentality be damned. If Mal could love his shampoo, then—