by A. F. Henley
One by one, each of them either nodded or murmured their agreement. And as each head tipped, as each tongue moved, Matthew felt the weight of a thousand bricks fall off his shoulders one at a time. He looked at Gavin until Gavin looked back.
"Can I talk to you?" Matthew asked. "In private?" He turned to smile tentatively at Vaughn. "And I wouldn't mind grabbing some sleep myself. I think I've thought myself into exhaustion."
"Ayuh." Vaughn took a breath, and to Matthew, Vaughn's expression said that he'd needed the pause to start thinking properly again. "Okay. Yeah. I'll get an air mattress set up for you two down in the basement. We put up steel shutters on the windows down there in the spring to keep the place safer at night. It's a little damp, but at the least the sunlight won't bother Gavin. We can set the rest of you all up on the couch or whatever. Hell, I guess we can sleep on the floor if we run out of spaces. I'd just rather not have anyone leave unless there's something pressing to attend to?"
No one admitted to anything, and Matthew couldn't blame them. If disaster was going to strike, he'd rather have it somewhere out here than around his family, too. And all these men had families of their own.
Vaughn seemed pleased with their decisions. "Excellent. Lyle? Give me a hand then, will you? And Randy, if you can pull up a couple of armloads of blankets that would be helpful. Hannah—" He began to holler her name but she poked her head around the kitchen doorframe before the first syllable started to echo off the walls. Her face was bright and smiling. Her expression alone seemed to burn the tension right out of the air.
"Woo-hoo, sleepover! I'm getting out the cards."
"You do that," Vaughn said. His own face lightened into a smile as well. "But how about you dig some hamburger out of the freezer first? And some buns. I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving."
Matthew grimaced. He definitely needed some time to talk to Gavin alone, but the idea of watching flesh cook in a pan wasn't high on the list of things he wanted to see at that moment. Not after the vampire... maybe not ever again. Before he left, though, there was one more thing he had to say.
"Rafe?" He waited for Rafe to look at him. "Thank you for sending over help. Those men dying had nothing to do with you trying to help. I just want you to know that."
The last thing Matthew saw as he followed Vaughn out the kitchen was Rafe reaching for Lyle as Lyle walked past. Although Lyle didn't stop, they reached for each other, trailing their fingertips together. Rafe smiled. It was almost as beautiful as Hannah's had been.
*~*~*
"Care to tell me what you were thinking back there?"
Matthew said the words the moment the door between the basement and the main floor closed. The very second they were standing alone. He'd been holding onto the question for so long, that when it finally did come, it was a physical relief.
It took a bit of time for Gavin to answer, though—a long moment where he did nothing more than study Matthew's face.
"You're cheating," Matthew said in a low, strained voice. Gavin was, too; Matthew could tell. Gavin was searching his head and trying to get a read on what he was thinking. "Just answer the question without trying to figure out what I want you to say."
Gavin smiled. "I prefer to think of it as using what I have going for me instead of cheating. But in all honesty, I wasn't exactly sure what direction you were taking with your question. There's been a lot of thinking today."
Matthew had to concede that Gavin had a point. There'd been a lot to think about. "Why did you risk your life like that?"
He wasn't expecting the head shake and the smile he got. "What? It's a fair question."
"It's a question I don't have to give you an answer for," Gavin said simply. "I told you that before I did it. And it's sitting right there in your head already. You know why."
"Because you think you love me."
"I don't think anything of the kind," Gavin snapped. "I know I love you, Matthew. Just like I know you don't believe it's possible, and just like I know there couldn't possibly be any other reason." He lowered himself to the air mattress and its humps of pillows and blankets. "What I can't figure out is why you find it so difficult to understand."
"We hardly know each other—"
"And you can't imagine a world where the concept of love of at first sight could exist? Or the possibility that I really did see the real you back when I was watching you at the Center, and not just who I wanted to see? That I could fall in love with an idea and that idea could end up being the truth? You don't seem to get the idea that it doesn't matter if you love me or not. I love you. And yes, I believe that love is worth dying for."
Gavin stopped speaking and Matthew could feel Gavin's gaze on him. He couldn't bring himself to meet that gaze, though. Instead, he sat down beside Gavin on the mattress and stared at his feet. It wasn't that he disapproved of anything Gavin was saying; it was that the weight of Gavin's faith—faith that Matthew had no doubt Gavin didn't even know he possessed—was astounding. Matthew wasn't sure he deserved it. But it felt nice to hear it.
"Did you know you'd be all right?" Matthew asked the floor. "I mean, the curtains... wrapping them around you... that was clever. Did you know that would work? Did you think about it first?" He lifted his head. The next question was too personal to ask of the concrete. "Did you think you were going to die?"
Gavin's stare was as direct, but unreadable. "I'm afraid that if I answer that. you're going to think that I'm manipulating you. Playing with your emotions to make you like me back."
Matthew snorted. "I already like you, Gavin. Knowing that you were being smart—or that you weren't—isn't going to make me feel something I don't." The second the final word was out of his mouth, it felt like a lie. And if not a lie, at least wrong. Somehow. Something in his chest told him he had to correct how it had sounded. "Or change something I might already be feeling."
Gavin's eyes widened. Now that, Matthew knew, wasn't something Gavin had picked out of his head. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps because Matthew hadn't admitted it himself. Maybe it was the fact that Gavin had risked life and limb for his safety. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe Matthew just liked the way Gavin's eyes looked like diamonds made of blood or the easy, unselfconscious way Gavin smiled, even with his fangs. Maybe it was the idea that even the faithless could have faith when they thought nobody else was watching.
Then Gavin's expression changed completely. Matthew saw it happen; it was as though someone had taken an eraser to a blackboard, wiping out what had been and leaving a dusty, ugly streak in its place.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Gavin said, his voice and his face making the lie so obvious that a child would have known it. He stared, he paused—perhaps to think, perhaps to assess—and then he chuckled. "And look, now you're reading me almost as well as I read you, aren't you?" He reached for Matthew's face, his lips spreading into a smile that his eyes didn't register. "What is it I say now? Something about you getting out of my head, right?"
Matthew caught Gavin's hand before Gavin touched him. "First of all, it isn't hard to tell you're lying. Your eyes are shockingly easy to read, Gavin. You'd make a lousy villain. Keep that in mind if you ever decide to swing toward the dark side."
As he lowered his hand, he kept hold of Gavin's and then, when their interlocked hands were settled in his lap, wrapped his other hand around them. He held on tight and couldn't help but to wonder how the warmth around Gavin's cold skin must feel. So warm it was hot, maybe.
"And secondly," Matthew continued, "just because I know something's up, it doesn't mean that I know what it is. That's the thing about talking to a human, in case you're starting to forget: you have to actually communicate if you want me to know what's going on in there."
"It doesn't have to be that way," Gavin said. He leaned forward, using one finger of his free hand to stroke Matthew's cheekbone down Matthew's cheek. "I could make it so you know every little thing going on in someone's mind." He traced under Matthew's chin and then muc
h more slowly, he ran that fingertip down Matthew's throat. "And I would never have to worry about your safety again."
There was no pause in Matthew's response. He didn't need to ask Gavin to clarify what Gavin was talking about, and he certainly didn't need to take even a moment to think about his reply. "No, thanks, I'm not interested. Besides, may I remind you that you weren't any safer than I was today? And that you were the point of this conversation, not me? So do tell me—how did you twist the topic of this conversation over to me when I wanted to talk about you?"
Gavin dropped his hand. "Because I had to stop you from making a mistake that would just hurt both of us. Let it go, Matthew. I don't want to hear you say any more about how you think you're feeling right now."
"What—"
"Don't," Gavin repeated. He pulled back, drawing out of Matthew's grip at the same time. "Don't wreck this. Don't tell me you have feelings for me just because you think I saved your life. I didn't. The wolves did. The best I could have done was buy you some time. You were still bound; they could have done something to work their way around the sunlight just as easily as I did, and—"
"Gavin, wait—"
"And even if I had saved your life, I would have done it because I care for you, not because I'd been trying to rope you into something because you felt guilty or appreciative or—"
"You're jumping to conclusions."
Gavin lifted both hands, palms out, then let them fall onto his thighs with a slap. He shook his head. "No, I'm not. That's exactly what you were leading up to. And I really don't want you to say that you have feelings for me because you feel indebted. That's not what I'm about. Not now, not before, not ever. I can hear you, Matthew. I know what you were thinking, and I know it's not the same way that you thought yesterday. Only one thing has changed since then."
"Not true." Matthew shook his head and once he started, he couldn't seem to stop himself. "A lot has changed since yesterday. I've changed. You've changed. The placement of this entire Earth has changed. People have died, babies have been born, catastrophes have fallen and then blown over. Everything changes every single day of our lives—"
"Come on, Matthew."
"And if you do know what I'm thinking, if it's really that clear to you, then you should know what I was thinking when I was watching you play charades. When I was watching your face as we sat there," Matthew said. "You should know what went through my head when you whispered that you loved me."
The edges of Gavin's lips softened into an expression that was almost a smile. "I had a bit on my mind at that point."
"I know." Matthew nodded. He grabbed for Gavin's hand again and forced it back into his lap—not that he had to try too hard, most of his effort was more for an amusing show of it than anything else. "So... thank you."
"I would have done it for anyone, Matthew. I'm not so far gone from humanity that I'd sit there and watch someone else die—"
"Unless he's a vampire," Matthew countered.
"And let an innocent man, woman, or child die," Gavin said, correcting his previous comment. "I'm glad it was you... well, I'm not, I mean, I would have been happier if you'd been a million miles away from there. But I'm glad I was able to have a hand in keeping you safe—"
"No. This isn't about you saving me." Again, Matthew shook his head, and he had to stop himself lest Gavin start thinking he needed to be tested for some kind of nervous disorder. "That's not what I'm thanking you for."
Gavin's left eyebrow lifted. His smile cocked out of true into a one-sided, confused thing. "Oh?"
"Thank you for having faith in me—in us—in what you hoped we might become, anyway." Matthew smiled. "You're not so faithless after all, Mr. Knowledge-Is-the-Only-Thing-You-Can-Trust."
Gavin turned his hand inside Matthew's and tightened his fingers so that he was returning the grip. "And you're not so blind in your faith, Doctor."
"Maybe it's a good combo," Matthew said. "A little of this, a little of that. A little of you bleeding into me and a little of me bleeding back. A smorgasbord of talents that we can both enjoy."
Gavin rested his chin on his own shoulder. It brought their faces closer together. "You know, I've always thought we would make a nice balance. Like sweet and sour sauce. Or honey mustard."
Matthew eyed him. "You best be insinuating that I'm the sweet and/or honey side of that analogy."
Light pressure on Matthew's arm drew him closer to Gavin until Matthew could feel the chill of Gavin's breath on his face when Gavin spoke.
"The sweetest."
Matthew's eyelids dropped as his lips parted, he felt the skin of his lips tingle even before Gavin touched them.
"Honey."
Then they were kissing, and the thrill that had sparked to life on Matthew's lips rushed through his blood to light up the rest of him. Then they weren't just holding hands anymore, they were clinging to each other. He felt Gavin's free hand land on the small of his back, and while Gavin pulled their bodies together, Matthew's other hand slipped up Gavin's arm, behind Gavin's neck, and wound into Gavin's hair. The world tipped on its axis, Matthew's head spun along with his body, and suddenly he was stretched out on the mattress with Gavin's weight over top of him.
"We probably shouldn't do this here."
Gavin breathed the words into his mouth, against his lips, and Matthew tried to kiss them out of existence. "Nothing wrong with kissing."
A huff of air—a light laugh—tickled Matthew's mouth.
"True," Gavin said, and though his voice was clear enough, not muffled or strained, his lips never seemed to move away. The pressure of his teeth behind them seemed constant against Matthew's lips. "But a few more seconds of kissing and I'll want to do a whole lot more than that."
"I have no doubt that they understand a bedroom, even a temporary one, is a private place," Matthew said. He lowered his hands to Gavin's ass and squeezed it with both. Oddly enough, the squeeze seemed to do as much for his own body as it did for Gavin's. It quickened Matthew's breath and pushed his hips to start lightly rocking.
Gavin's eyes looked directly into Matthew's, and Matthew fixated on them. Gavin really did have such amazing eyes, and knowing they could look deeper than most men's made their eye contact more intense. This wasn't the first time Matthew had thought that a man's gaze could see into his heart. It was, however, the first time he knew it to be true.
What a weird, yet oddly cool thing that was. He could let Gavin know anything he wanted to just by thinking it. When words were too hard to speak, he could simply think of the idea and let Gavin have it. He could let them share almost anything, be it fear, pain, joy or bliss; a memory too hard to articulate, or an emotion too deep to speak of. It was complete sharing, total honesty. Something they could eventually play with, even, in the way his parents might share a joke just by looking at each other with the right expression.
He could feel both himself and Gavin getting hard, and he thought about the way that felt—not just physically, but mentally. Spiritually. Two men growing hard together, a synchronicity of body and desire. Smiling, eyes closed, he thought up a mental picture of their two bodies—buck naked, both of them as hard as rocks and moving against one another, cold against warm, sex fluids leaking and making the both of them slippery—and then he thought about it very, very hard. He made it a scene that his mind played on loop with flashes of skin, and sounds, and sensations, and couldn't stop his grin when Gavin caught a sharp breath.
"Have you ever considered the fact that sharing thoughts with a vampire could be almost like directing your own personal pornographic film?" Matthew's voice sounded elated and breathless even to his own ears. "Except it would all take place in your head. Now that," Matthew chuckled, "that kind of hot."
As if it all became too much right at that very instant, Gavin suddenly lifted himself up and then sat back on his calves. He reached for Matthew's pants and yanked them down to Matthew's thighs in one tug. He was no less breathless, his voice no less eager than Matthew's had bee
n, but Gavin's had a husky undertone that made all the nerves in Matthew's body squirm as Gavin spoke. "Would you like that?" Gavin dragged his palm up Matthew's thigh. "Do you think you could drive me crazy with the things you could imagine me doing to you?" He wrapped his fingers around Matthew's straining center and he pumped it with a light, repeating squeeze that immediately began to drive Matthew wild. "Or maybe even what you imagine yourself doing to me?"
Matthew's breath was stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat in what seemed like a giant clump of cotton. He peered down at Gavin's hand, where the sensation was coming from, and then back at Gavin with a look that he was sure had to be adoration. He was pleasantly surprised to see Gavin fascinated by the exact same thing he'd been staring at—Matthew's penis hard and responsive in Gavin's fist. That was when Matthew told himself he didn't need to talk. Yes, he did think he could drive Gavin crazy with his imagination. Yes, he would like that, thank you very much.
Closing his eyes, he brought up a picture of Gavin's naked body and thought of swallowing it, loving it, choking himself with it. He recalled the taste of Gavin, how Gavin's width forced open his mouth and how deep Gavin's length drilled into his throat. Then he imagined it wider, deeper and longer, with a steady trickle of sweetness that he lapped and sucked at. He added the thought of Gavin's hand in his hair, and he put words in Gavin's mouth. Deeper. Harder. Suck it. Eat it. Take it.
A bolt of lust riveted through Matthew's physical body that was at least as powerful as the one he sent through both of their imagined ones. Gavin growled low and deep in his throat—not a gasp, not a moan, an honest-to-goodness growl that brought goosebumps out on Matthew's skin and sent his heart leaping—and Gavin tore Matthew's pants the rest of the way off his legs.
Hormones and pheromones spiked through Matthew's blood (move, look, run, fight, dominate, penetrate) like a sex cocktail, waking anything that still dared to sleep and slamming anything already awake into overdrive. He gasped when Gavin grabbed both of his hips and flipped him over. It wasn't surprise or fear that made him gasp, though. It was anticipation.