Below the Belt

by E M Lindsey

  “When you s-say w-wuh-work at the shop…?” Noah pressed.

  Adrian shrugged. “Oh. I work at a motorcycle repair and detail shop. It’s mostly custom stuff for really wealthy people. I have one restoration project I’ve been working on for about a month now. I don’t get a lot of time these days because my class load is kind of heavy this term, but I’m hoping to open my own place soon.”

  Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really? S-so teaching’s not your l-long-term plan?”

  Adrian laughed like he couldn’t help himself. “Teaching? God, no. I mean, no offense. That’s probably your thing, right? Classics, it’s usually a teacher thing.”

  Noah couldn’t help a tiny chuckle, even as his heart raced a little harder and his tongue had that familiar, heavy, sticky feeling which told him every word was going to make him work for it. “I want to d-defend the field and t-talk about archaeology and anthropology and ruh-research and everything, but I’d be l-lying. Yes, most of us are university p-professors. Though m-maybe for me it isn’t the buh-b-best idea with my f-f-fucking stammer. I’m sure it’s f-fucking terrible to l-listen to. It’s n-not usually this bad b-but you make me n-nuh-nervous.”

  Adrian’s grin stayed on his face, soft with a hint of pink in the apples of his cheeks. His five o’clock shadow stood out against the pink and Noah, again, wanted to kiss him, to taste that smile. “For what it’s worth, listening to you isn’t difficult. And I’m not one to judge careers, trust me, it’s just not my area. I used to be an avid rider before my last tour. I’ve modified a trike for my legs, and it’s not as stable as I want it to be, but I’m still working on it.”

  Noah couldn’t help his grin and he felt his heart slow a little bit, the nervous tingles in his fingers easing up. “Yeah? That’s amazing. W-would you show me sometime?”

  Adrian’s grin turned a little shy and he shrugged. He leaned forward, almost like he needed something to do with his hands and dug two of the beers out of the cardboard case. He popped both caps with a twist in the palm of his hand, then handed one over. “I’d love to. I mean, it’s not exciting or anything yet. Doesn’t go as fast as my bike used to, but it’s something. It was one of my goals after I got out of rehab—be able to ride again. My nerve damage means I don’t have a lot of feeling or control over my lower legs so it’s harder for me, but the first time I was back out on the road, I knew I was gonna be okay.”

  “That’s…wow. Thank you f-for sharing that,” Noah said, a little overwhelmed. He knew what it felt like, achieving something that was one so simple, but ten times harder after life had dealt a hard blow.

  Adrian shrugged and looked uncomfortable again. “Sorry, I don’t do this a lot, and I tend to ramble.”

  “It’s okay,” Noah said with a wave of his hand and a soft grin. “When I get going and it’s unfamiliar st-stuff, my stammer is almost impossible. I have a TBI and I’ve d-done really well with my rehab but sometimes when I g-get over excited or n-nervous…” He shrugged and gestured at his mouth, grateful Adrian didn’t seem to mind.

  “It doesn’t bother me,” Adrian said seriously, and Noah believed him. Before either of them could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. “Food,” Adrian said. He reached for his crutches, and Noah almost stopped him, but realized what a bad idea that would have been.

  Instead, he did his best not to stare as Adrian made his way to the door, paid for the food, then came back with the bags hooked on his wrist. “I hope you don’t mind. I probably should have asked if you were allergic, or into this, or…”

  “It smells amazing,” Noah said honestly, then reached for the bags as Adrian got resettled. “This is one of the only p-places around here I c-can eat. I have about a hundred different stomach issues. Jewish c-culture, my mom likes to say,” Noah said with a wry grin.

  Adrian laughed. “Fair enough. This is just chicken shawarma, some fries, pita. Shit like that.”

  Noah tore open the boxes, and suddenly the tension felt less. Suddenly it was a couple of guys who were kind of into each other on a nice at-home date without any pressure. Maybe it was the first sips of beer on an empty stomach that lowered his inhibitions, or maybe it was the fact that Adrian understood him better than the way most first dates ever could hope to. Maybe it was Adrian’s shy smile and little dimples telling Noah he was glad to be here too, just like this.

  Whatever it was, it was nice.

  “…so she gets Wes into a headlock,” Adrian said, halfway through a story about how Wes and Anna ended up together, “and she tells him she’ll only let him go if he stops asking her out. He agrees, then they stand up and she grabs him by the shirt, kisses him, and tells him to pick her up at seven.”

  Noah laughed, shaking his head. His cheeks hurt from how much he’d been smiling. They’d avoided all talk of work, of students, of anything that was weighing on him and it felt nice. More than nice, it felt perfect. The pair of them had gravitated closer to one another once the food was gone and the beer was empty. And now, when Adrian stretched up, he dropped his hand back down on Noah’s thigh and left it there.

  It took Noah a moment to find his voice when the almost vicious want rose in him once more. “I think that’s sweet.”

  Adrian laughed. “Yeah. Wes keeps threatening to tell that story to all of Maggie’s dates. Their kid,” he clarified when Noah gave him a confused look. “She’s only four right now, but Wes says that he won’t approve of any guy she dates unless she can take him down with her bare hands.”

  Noah snorted. “I guess every parent has to have goals for their kid.”

  “Something like that. I think anyone she dates will need a backbone of steel. Her parents, me, every single person at the studio.” Adrian grinned, shaking his head even as his thumb started to rub a slow line along Noah’s thigh. After a moment he said, “Hey, your stammer eased up a little. That’s good, right?”

  “Yeah,” Noah breathed out. “I feel…a lot more comfortable. Relaxed.” Noah licked his lips, and when he looked up to meet Adrian’s gaze, there was heat there. Any other words he meant to say died on his tongue when Adrian’s hand crept to the inside of his thigh, and he curled his hands into fists to keep from reaching over to reciprocate. “So,” he said, throat dry like the Sahara.

  Adrian bit his lip, releasing it in a slow drag. “Is this okay? I want…I want to be clear about my intentions when I asked you over. It was not to shoot the shit and drink beer like friends.”

  “I was hoping that was the case,” Noah told him.

  Adrian’s cheeks pinked again, and he increased the pressure of his hand against Noah’s thigh. “Thank fuck.”

  Noah wanted to make a pun about fucking, but his brain stuttered at the moment and he couldn’t get his tongue to work out the words. Instead, he lifted his hand and traced a line around one of the tattoos on Adrian’s forearm. It looked Polynesian style, intricate and meaningful. “Can I ask about this one?”

  Something in Adrian’s eyes darkened a little, and just when Noah thought he would be rejected, Adrian gave a stiff nod. “He was my buddy. Died in the explosion that fucked me up. His name was Eric—he was from Oahu. He and his uncle designed this piece, and his uncle was going to do it for him when he got out, only he didn’t make it home.” Adrian swallowed thickly, and just before Noah was about to tell him he didn’t need to go on, he said, “He left it to me apparently. A few of us got boxes of his shit, and this one was in there with a note saying that if he couldn’t wear it, I should. Not all the guys do shit like that—a lot of them are superstitious and they think if you prepare for your death, it’ll happen. Eric wasn’t like that. Maybe he knew it was going to happen anyway, who knows. I kept it with me and told myself the day I was able to stand on my own two feet—even if it was just for thirty seconds—I’d get it done. I couldn’t fly out to the island to have it done there, but I found a Polynesian guy who does good work here and he put it on me.”

  Adrian let out a shaky breath when Noah traced his finge
r around one of the rounded edges. “It’s gorgeous, and I think it’s the perfect way to remember him.”

  “He deserved to live as long as I do,” Adrian said in a soft voice. “At least this way a piece of him did.”

  Noah’s hand trailed down to Adrian’s fingers and carefully curled around them. “If I just killed the mood…”

  Adrian let out a small snort, shaking his head. “If I let every moment I thought of a dead friend kill my mood, I’d never get laid.” He looked up at Noah then with heat in his dark eyes, and he reached one hand out. It disappeared on Noah’s blind side, but a second later he felt a calloused palm cup his cheek. “I really fucking want you.”

  “I’m good with that. I’m so good with that,” Noah said, and then leaned forward to accept Adrian’s kiss.

  ***

  He couldn’t be sure what gave him the ability to relax, or the courage to reach out, but he’d done it. Not only had he talked about himself and his struggles to get back on his bike—to open his shop, to make something of himself—but he’d talked about Eric, and about Anna and Wes. And then he’d leaned over and confessed how much he wanted the man next to him.

  He hadn’t been that bold in a long time. He’d spent years in the Marines hiding his truth, and then just when he was feeling brave enough to live it, he’d been blown up. His dates since—the ones he’d talked himself into going on—had been total disasters. They were either full of pity, morbid curiosity, or the stupidly romantic who thought they could love all of his problems away.

  The one guy he’d bothered to spend the night with had almost been strangled when he tried to kiss Adrian awake in the midst of a PTSD nightmare. He’d fled the moment Adrian was calm, and when Adrian tried to text an apology, his number had been blocked. Par for the course, he supposed.

  Except it didn’t feel like that now. Noah looked at him with an understanding that Adrian was terrified to take for granted. Noah traced his tattoos and listened to his story about Eric without that overwhelming pity or a sudden move to try and love his pain away. He’d simply absorbed it, had thanked him for sharing, and it was more than Adrian thought he’d ever get from another man.

  He couldn’t do anything but kiss him. It was soft at first, the both of them tentative and a little nervous. Adrian kept one hand on Noah’s thigh, the other curled into a fist until he couldn’t take it anymore. He reached up, digging the fingers of his right hand into Noah’s curls to confirm if they were as soft as they looked.

  They wrapped around the tips of his fingers, and he groaned. Noah took the opportunity to press deeper into the kiss, to open his mouth a little and allow their tongues to brush together. They both tasted like spices, and a little like beer, and the rich taste of another man’s mouth which went straight to his dick, making him tent the front of his sweats.

  His legs tingled as he tried to move, his nerves shot for the day. He hated the limited mobility of his body in this moment. He wanted nothing more than to stand up, pin Noah against the wall, and fuck him senseless. He couldn’t do that, no matter how desperately he wanted to, so instead he shifted his legs until they sat in a V and urged Noah onto his lap.

  It took some maneuvering. Adrian was a huge guy, but Noah was no petite twink he picked up in a bar. He was tall, fit, muscular—not Adrian’s usual type, and yet everything his body seemed to crave right then. Grabbing him by the ass, he urged the other man to straddle him. The sofa wasn’t entirely prepared, but Noah’s knees dug into the backs of the cushions and their groins came into contact.

  “Oh, fuck,” Adrian gasped. It had been way too long since his dick had touched someone else’s, and he was fairly sure he was going to blow his load like some hormonal teenager getting his first hand-job. “I’m…I can’t,” he thrust up against him.

  Noah broke away with a shudder, pressing his forehead against Adrian’s. “Yeah. M-me too. Fuck…me too.” He gave a firm thrust and Adrian’s head spun. “We should…I mean, as f-fun as it would be to grind on you until I c-come in my pants, I don’t have anything to change into, and your couch kind of sucks.”

  Adrian laughed gently, pressing his fingers into Noah’s hips and gave another thrust, just to enjoy the feel of the friction between them with the barriers of clothes. Once they were naked, that was it, he wouldn’t be able to hold back, and he liked that he could at least appear to have some stamina.

  “My bedroom is the first door on the right. I might need to lean on you.” His legs were all-but useless from the long day, and now from Noah sitting on them. He didn’t mind so much taking the help from the other man though. Especially because when Noah braced him with one arm, the other came around to palm at the hard bulge in the front of his sweats.

  “Fuck, I can’t wait to get this out,” Noah said.

  Adrian leaned on him hard and appreciated having a lover that could take his weight. He forgot to be careful for Noah though, and murmured an apology when Noah missed the side of the door and crashed into it. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to…”

  “Happens all the time,” Noah interrupted absently. They were in the room and he had turned Adrian, bracing him against the dresser as he began to tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “I don’t care. I want you naked.”

  Adrian closed his hands around Noah’s wrists and tugged him in for a filthy, wet kiss. “Yes, me too, but this will go faster if we get ourselves undressed, and I don’t want to waste another second of you not naked.”

  Noah grinned, nipped at Adrian’s bottom lip before pulling away. His clothes were more complicated—a belt, jeans, button up shirt, his glasses. Adrian yanked at the elastic waist of his sweats, taking both the bottoms and his boxers off with them. His legs gave way, but he was able to angle himself toward the bed and he had his shirt off as he scooted up to the pillows for a nice view of the other man.

  Noah took his time undressing. He was clearly putting on a show, buttons one-by-one at a pace that made Adrian want to growl and yank at his clothes until the buttons ripped off and scattered across the floor. Instead, he occupied his hands by closing his fingers around his hard dick and stroking—not enough to get him off, but enough to keep him interested.

  Noah’s gaze followed the up and down motion of his hand, and he licked his lips before hurrying to scramble out of his jeans. He kept his socks on, which might have been weird if it had been anyone else, but instead Adrian found it so endearing it actually hurt somewhere behind his ribs. His hands were needy as he pulled Noah on top of him and kissed him again.

  “I’m not going to last. I want to be good for you, but I don’t think we’re going to get much further than this,” he admitted. The feeling of their naked cocks brushing together had him teetering too close to the edge. “It’s been…a while.”

  “Me too,” Noah said. He brought his hand up to his mouth, gave his palm a wet lick, then closed his hand around them both. He couldn’t quite fit, but the grip was strong enough Adrian felt it all the way down to his toes. “Fuck…f-fuck,” Noah breathed out. “Your dick is fucking b-buh-beautiful, feels so guh-good. I want it in me s-soon, okay? In my m-mouth, in my ass, juh-j-just…I…I have t-to…”

  Adrian hadn’t known what to expect—the babbling, the stuttering all seemed so natural right then, so Noah, and so perfect. It was enough to drive him to the edge. The feel of Noah’s cock sliding against his, the wet palm stroking him, having another man on top of him who wanted him just because he found him attractive.

  He curled into himself a little, eyes squeezing shut, and he pressed an open mouth to the crook of Noah’s neck as he came with a short, heavy grunt. Noah followed seconds later, his hand slowing, his come mingling with Adrian’s on the soft hair of his belly. Their breathing was equally matched, rapid and a little hitched at the ends, and soon the cool breeze from the fan tickled at the pinpricks of sweat on his temples, along his shoulders, at the edge of his hairline.

  Noah came to himself not long after, rolling to the side and grimacing a little at the wetness between t
hem. But where it had been awkward in recent days with his fumbling encounters, this felt right. It was soft and sweet, and his heart gave a tiny lurch when Noah reached in the space between them and tangled their fingers together.

  “We didn’t exactly set boundaries,” Noah said quietly, his face turned up to the darkened ceiling. “What we wanted out of this.”

  “I’m not great with casual,” Adrian said, deciding there was no point in holding anything back. “But I’m still kind of a mess and honestly I probably always will be a little bit. I have PTSD that isn’t going away. Ever.”

  “I understand,” Noah said, and Adrian believed him.

  “I don’t really know what I’m capable of doing. I wasn’t looking for anything when you showed up at the ring the other night.” Adrian pushed himself onto his side and found Noah’s face pointed toward him. His prosthetic eye was turned in a little bit more than the other, but his sighted eye was fixed right on Adrian’s. Unable to stop himself, Adrian reached a hand up and traced a finger along the edge of Noah’s jaw. “I like you though. This was not in my plans, and I need structure, but I’m willing to try. If you…I mean, I haven’t asked if you…”

  “I do,” Noah said, cutting off the start to Adrian’s insecure rambling. “I’ve done casual, but it’s not what I want. I don’t have a lot of time. My class load is pretty heavy for the next two semesters at least and probably for the foreseeable future. The department is a little in disarray and they put a lot of pressure on us, but I’m willing to make time.”

  “I understand,” Adrian told him quietly. “I have my classes, I have the garage, and I have my family. But there’s space enough to carve out for you.”

  Noah let his face fall into a relaxed grin. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

  Adrian leaned in to seal it with a kiss, slow and gentle. “I’d invite you to stay, but when it’s new and different I tend to have nightmares, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”