by Andrew Grey
“Damn, that’s just mean.”
“It didn’t seem fair to me then. But it was how my parents spent their Christmas.” Dean nudged Lee’s hand. “When I was sixteen, I went through a really rebellious phase. And that Christmas, when we served dinner, Santa had some extra presents to give out to the adults. I remember Mom and Dad watching as Santa handed out gifts to the kids, and then the administrator announced that a generous benefactor had donated a lot of winter clothing for men and women. Anyone in need was welcome to help themselves. I watched my mom and dad as they went over to help pass things out.” Dean began to laugh. “I knew the second they realized what I had done.” He couldn’t stifle a giggle.
“What?” Lee asked.
“I’d emptied both their closets of every stitch of cold weather clothing they had—shirts, heavy pants, coats, gloves, hats, all of it. I’d taken it down and donated it all early that morning while they were still in bed. I walked up to my dad and mom and said, ‘Doesn’t it feel good to know that those people will be warm this winter?’ Then I walked away. I’d come to hate both of them so much. I was a teenager and filled with rage.” Dean huffed. “It took me a long time to forgive them and realize they were doing what they thought was important, but they took it too far. I know there’s something to be said for giving back to others, but there’s also a time when you have to remember that the people around you, your family, are special too.”
Lee squeezed his fingers. “How did you patch things up with your mom and dad?”
“Dad and I found out we liked some of the same things. When I was seventeen, I asked him to teach me about cars. He was like you, a musician with engines, and I seemed to understand style and could repair seats and dashboards, things like that, much better than he could. After that, he and I worked together and we talked, really talked, and got to know each other. My dad looks at things so much differently than I did, or do now. He still believes in community service above all, and he and Mom are still really active, but I think they’ve finally learned that community begins at home.” Dean smiled and then lightly stroked Lee’s cheek. “I get Christmas presents from them now. Real ones. Last year it was a set of ratchets that I had wanted. Oh, and a shirt and pair of pants.” Dean laughed. “They came up here, and we got snowed in, so we spent the day talking and playing games. It was the kind of thing I would have loved to do when I was younger, but I guess it’s never too late.”
“Your mom and dad understood how you felt?”
“Yes, and for Christmas I gave them a donation to the food bank close to where they live. They said it fit, was the perfect color, and made them very happy.” His mom and dad were never going to change, and neither was he. But compromise and listening went a long way. At least they had been supportive of him through his breakup with Chuck. Hell, they’d actually shone in their support. It seemed to be an area of his life that they could understand.
“That’s pretty cool,” Lee said. “I suppose I should talk to my mom. Goodness knows I don’t want to give away all her stuff to get her attention.”
Dean loved that Lee felt he could tease him a little.
“Probably not. But it definitely worked. They were angry, but I asked them why they didn’t like me giving their things away, when that’s what they were doing to me. It helped them see things from my perspective. What surprised me was that my dad always thought that I felt the same way he did.” Dean gathered up their cups and spoons, but didn’t move from the seat in the shade. “And maybe part of that was my fault. I didn’t tell them how I felt or that I thought what they were doing was unfair. I kept quiet and held my resentment deep inside until it exploded and I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“So you’re saying that I should tell my mom how I feel.”
Dean hummed his agreement. “I’m willing to bet that your mom wants you to be independent and also wants to have a life of her own. But she’s worried that you could come to harm, and that’s keeping her from both things. At least that would be my guess, if I were a parent.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to her.” Lee yawned. “I’m sorry. I think today was more draining than I want to admit. This thing with the toolcase has me really thrown, even more than what happened at the club. There, it was some stranger who didn’t want to take no for an answer. At the garage it’s someone I know and work with.”
Dean stood and took the empty containers to the trash. “We can go if you’re ready.” It was probably time to take Lee home anyway. They’d had a good time together, but the day hadn’t gone the way Dean had expected. It seemed that whenever he tried to do something for Lee, someone else got in the way and darkened what should have been fun for them. “I bet your mother is wondering where you are.”
Lee pressed his watch, and a mechanical voice read off the time at a little after six. “I suppose so. She’s going to be wondering if I’m going to be home for dinner and all.”
“You know, we could order a pizza or something.” Dean made the offer a little hastily, but the thought of taking Lee home already wasn’t sitting well with him. “You could call your mom and let her know that you’re okay and you’ll be home later.” He was a little surprised that she hadn’t called already, based on what Lee had said.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
Lee checked in with his mom, and after some convincing that Dean tried not to pay any attention to out of respect for Lee’s privacy, they left the small ice cream stand and Dean drove them back to his house. When he got there, he guided Lee inside, ordered a pizza, and got them some drinks before settling in the living room. Normally he’d watch television or a movie about now, but he didn’t think that would be entertaining for Lee and wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“I do listen to television,” Lee finally said. “Mom watches it a lot when we’re home.”
“Yeah, but there has to be something we can do that will be more fun than that.” Dean didn’t want to shut Lee out, but he wasn’t really coming up with anything.
It seemed Lee had plenty of ideas because he slipped closer on the sofa, feeling the way until he reached Dean’s leg, and warmth bloomed on his thigh. And Lee didn’t stop there. He slid off the sofa and stood in front of him, his hands on his knees, leaning closer. “Dean,” he whispered. “Do you really like me? Like, like me, like me?”
Dean swallowed hard. “Yes.” But he had been holding back from making his move because he thought he should treat Lee differently than he’d treated other guys. “I think you’re really sexy, and….” Lee was more than sexy. He was cool and interesting beyond belief. “You make me want things I don’t think I have a right to have.”
“Why?” Lee breathed and then closed the distance between them. Lee’s lips were hot, and he wasn’t restrained or tentative. Lee seemed to know what he wanted and went for it. The assurance he put into the kiss and then the way he leaned forward to add more pressure had Dean wrapping his arms around him, drawing him closer.
Dean needed Lee more and more by the second, and when Lee moaned softly, it was music to his ears. “Damn, you taste good.”
“It’s the ice cream,” Lee whispered as he closed his arms around Dean, getting more comfortable.
“I don’t think so.” Dean traced Lee’s lower lip with his finger. “I’m tasting Lee, not chocolate.” He slid his hands up Lee’s back to lightly cup his head. “I think it’s the best taste ever.”
“Dean, you’re making fun of me.”
Dean paused, taking Lee’s cheeks in his hands. If Lee could see, Dean would have gazed into his eyes, and he found himself doing just that anyway because it was what he needed at that moment. “I would never make fun of you.” He gasped. “Did someone do that?”
“Maybe,” Lee whispered. “One of the guys at the school. He was another of James’s students, and I thought he liked me. But he said I kissed like a dead fish and didn’t talk to me again.”
Dean wanted to shake with rage. “When did he do that?”
“Well, after
school, he asked me if I liked James. By then, most of us knew James was gay. And when I said that he was nice and that I thought James was pretty special, Mark kissed me. Then the next day, when I went to talk to him, he told me that he wasn’t that way and that I kissed like a dead fish and that he didn’t know why anyone would want to kiss me anyway.” Lee sniffed.
“That was his problem. Mark’s parents are probably fundies, and he got scared. I doubt that had anything to do with you, because you definitely don’t kiss like a fish.” Dean drew him even closer.
“Fundies?” Lee asked with a smile.
“Fundamentalists. You know the type. The holier-than-thou people who think they’re perfect. Mark just got scared, and you became the object of that fear. It happens to all of us.”
“Even you?”
“In a way. Mom and Dad were pretty accepting, but I was still scared to tell them.” Dean shrugged and kissed Lee, hoping the conversation was over. Lee kissed him once again, and Dean forgot about his parents and secrets, his world narrowing in a second to Lee and the building heat that surrounded him. “What do you want, Lee? You have to tell me.”
Lee stilled and Dean waited. “You know words aren’t very romantic. I always imagined that the guy I’d be with would know what I wanted and I wouldn’t have to say anything.”
Dean chuckled and drew Lee closer. “You always have to say what you want. No one can read your mind.” He stroked Lee’s silky hair. “Saying so doesn’t make it less romantic. It means you have a voice. That you get to say what will make you happy.” Dean stroked slowly up and down Lee’s arm. “You told me about your mom trying to protect you, and in a way, that takes away some of your voice. Well, in something this intimate, this special, you need to have a voice and use it.” Dean couldn’t believe he had just brought up Lee’s mother when he was sitting on his sofa, hard as a rock, with Lee practically shaking him his arms. God, talk about crappy timing.
“All right.” Lee buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. “I’ve just never talked that way,” he finally added.
Dean tightened his arms around him, closed his eyes, and held Lee close. “All you have to do is say what you want. There is nothing wrong or dirty about it.” Lee was so young, and Dean suddenly felt ancient and worried he was too old. Maybe Lee should have someone in his life who was closer to his own age.
“I don’t know what to ask for,” Lee told him and then pulled back. “I want to know what everything is like.” Tears ran down his cheeks. “Dammit. I’ve been living in darkness for five years now, and I thought I had accepted that’s how things would be. Does it make me a bad person that I want to see you? That when we make love, I want to know what you look like?”
“Hey, I can tell you what I look like. There are times when I watch you and I’m awestruck and I can’t turn away. I see you working at the garage, and I’m filled with pride, even though I have no right to be. You throw yourself into everything you do, and I can’t help but be inspired by it. I watch you with longing and fear. Longing, because I think you’re the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and fear that I’m not good enough for you. I have worry lines around my eyes, and sometimes there are little creases around my mouth from jealousy because of the way Scott gets to touch you all day.”
“Dean, he’s my friend and I work with him. It’s how we communicate.”
“I know that. But it still makes me jealous because he gets to touch you, and for a very long time, I couldn’t.”
“Why?” Lee asked innocently.
“Because you were too young…. Hell, maybe you’re still too young.” What could Lee possibly want with an old man like him? Dean tried not to be grateful for the fact that Lee was blind, but he was pretty sure that if Lee could see, he wouldn’t want much to do with him. “I’m older and I’ve been through a lot, and that leaves marks on a person.” Lee was unblemished, with radiant, lightly toned skin that glistened slightly in the sun. Dean didn’t shine. There were times when he felt used up.
“That’s enough,” Lee said. “You sound like a grumpy old man.” He snickered as he sat down. “Remember, you’re only as old as the one you feel.” He smiled, and Dean couldn’t help chuckling slightly. Lee wound his arms around Dean’s neck, snuggling in closer. “You worry too much about age and all that stuff. It’s just a number. Maybe I’m blind, but sometimes I see more clearly than other people. Maybe because I can’t actually see what they look like, I form my impressions with my other senses. For example, you smell good.” Lee leaned close, inhaling. “Like soap and you, all mixed together, and maybe a touch of peppermint from the ice cream… and motor oil, definitely motor oil.” Lee giggled. “It’s sexy—turns me on.”
“That’s a new one. It’s said that everyone has their kink. Now we know that yours is motor oil,” Dean teased. “Maybe I should dab a little behind my ears to get your motor going.”
Lee leaned closer, cutting off the giggles with another kiss. “You’re silly sometimes.” The kisses grew heated once more, but some of Lee’s tension and worry seemed to have slipped away. Laughter could dispel just about anything.
Dean hugged Lee close, deepening the kisses even further as he slipped to the edge of the sofa and then stood. Lee wrapped his legs around him, and Dean slid one hand under his butt to steady him, then carried Lee through the house and down the hall to his bedroom.
The doorbell rang, and Dean groaned under his breath, setting Lee on the side of the bed. “You made me forget all about the pizza.” He should have waited to order it. Hurrying away, he snagged his wallet out of his back pocket, paid the delivery man with a good tip, and slipped the pizza into the oven to stay warm before returning to the bedroom, where Lee lay back, his head on a pillow, cocked so he could hear Dean approach.
“Is it okay? Should we eat?” Lee asked.
“Whatever you want,” Dean breathed, pizza the last thing on his mind at the moment. He swallowed hard when Lee didn’t move and stalked close to the bed. He slowly climbed on, letting the bed signal that he was close. Lee turned toward him, and Dean trailed his fingertips along the line of Lee’s jaw before cradling his cheek in his hand. Lee pressed into the touch, and Dean drew close enough that Lee’s rich warmth entered his nose, sending him on a scented trip to heaven.
Dean captured Lee’s lips as Lee wrapped his arms around his neck. He kissed him hard, slipping a hand under his shirt, feeling smooth skin slide under his fingers. When Dean encountered a nipple, he circled it and plucked gently as Lee quivered under him. Damn, he was so responsive, silently begging for more. At least for now, it looked like Lee was going to be a quiet lover, which meant Dean needed to read the signs very carefully and not move too quickly. Lee needed to be able to soak in every experience; each new exploration had to be special, and that meant that Dean needed to take his time.
Dean drew back to let Lee catch his breath, tugging his shirt up and over his head before working Lee’s upward as well. Lee squirmed on the bed until Dean got the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. Damn, Lee was lean and smooth, his lithe form a beauty to behold. He still had that young, healthy look, with its glow and roundness that hadn’t been cut into by life and hard living. Lee sat up, winding an arm around Dean’s, and he stilled as Lee explored, slowly running his hands over Dean’s chest and shoulders. Once again, Lee didn’t say anything, which was a little unnerving, as if Lee was in his own world and Dean was on the outside. Dean quivered and wondered if this was a good thing.
“I like how strong you are,” Lee finally said, pressing to him, their warmth mingling together.
“I’m glad.” He held Lee, pushing him back down onto the bed, kissing him hard before nuzzling the base of Lee’s neck, running his tongue over his warm skin until Lee groaned softly and whimpered. “It’s good if you tell me what you like,” Dean reminded him, sliding downward. He located a nipple with his tongue and lips and worked it slowly as Lee’s whimpers intensified. Dean plucked the other with his fingers, and Lee shook more
forcefully.
“Dean!,” he cried.
“Is that good?”
“Yeah…,” Lee moaned, pushing his chest forward, silently asking for more.
For the last few years, Dean had fallen into a world of countless sexual encounters. Most of the time, the goal was simply to get off as quickly as possible before going out in search of the next conquest. It was easy and he didn’t get hurt, but it left him feeling empty and alone in the end.
This was nothing like that. Each sound touched Dean on a deeper level, making his head spin. It was what he’d been missing, what he’d been looking for all this time. He couldn’t have found it before, because their kind of passion was only possible when using the heart as well as the body. And Dean’s heart had been closed off for way too long.
What surprised him the most was how his instincts drove him to protect Lee and make him safe. He didn’t want to play the hero—he wanted to be Lee’s hero. It was almost a base drive and was something completely new to him. Lee’s smiles sent his heart soaring, the passion in his eyes lighting a fire in Dean. He wanted Lee to be safe and happy—with him.
Dean sighed to himself as he licked and sucked at Lee’s chest, tasting and giving as much pleasure as possible before sliding his mouth downward over Lee’s quivering belly. It was hard for Dean to remember a time when he’d been so excited, so fast. They hadn’t yet gotten all their clothes off and Dean was already nearing the edge. Each of Lee’s cries and moans enticed him in ways that all those strange men’s never had.
“Is this okay?” Dean whispered as he popped open the button at the waist of Lee’s jeans. He parted the fabric, blowing gently on Lee’s skin as he whimpered.
“Yessss,” Lee hissed softly, and Dean smiled, pressing his lips and nose to the smoothness he found, inhaling deeply and groaning at the intoxicating scent. Lee drove him wild, and yet somehow he found the control he needed to go slowly enough to ensure Lee’s happiness. “What are you waiting for?”