William

by Anyta Sunday

  He dropped the paper onto the floor and pulled Heath back onto the bed.

  “Any more questions?” Heath asked after Will had pulled him on top of him again.

  Will grinned. “Yes, just one more. What did you whisper to Murky on our walk before?”

  “That he wasn’t the only one who wanted the chance to slobber all over you, of course.”

  “Ew.”

  “Not ew. At least, not the way I’d do it.”

  “Yeah, still can’t picture it.”

  “One of these days you won’t have to picture it.”

  “That a promise?”

  “You bet.”

  Well he liked the sound of that.

  “So back to that three week thing,” Heath said with a cheeky grin. “Any room to compromise?”

  Did birds fly? “Two weeks.”

  “One.”

  “One and a half.”

  “Deal.” Heath slowly extracted him off him. “Now then, we really need to stop kissing. And I’m really going to need to use the bathroom.”

  Will raised himself onto his elbows. “Oh yeah?” He adjusted himself. “Me, too.”

  “You had to do that so provocatively, didn’t you? Damn. Say, does watching each other jerk off count as sex?”

  His throat went dry, pulse quickening. He shook his head. “Doesn’t count.” He scrambled to his knees and shuffled to the end of the bed where Heath stood. He gripped the hem of Heath’s t-shirt. “And it doesn’t count if I undress you first, either.”

  He pulled off Heath’s clothes one-by-one. Wow, the guy had a fit body. He ran his fingers over a small mole on the side of Heath’s hip and noted a second one on his upper thigh. Pushing down Heath’s boxer-briefs, he sucked in his bottom lip. Nice. Nature sure had been kind to him. His cock was thick and a little bigger than his own, slanting slightly to one side. And he was uncut. Well that’s something he’d never seen up close and personal before. What would it feel like in his hands?

  “I’m at a disadvantage here,” Heath said, eyeing his naked body and then pointedly arching a brow at Will’s clothed one. He locked his arms around Will and pulled off his shirt.

  After a few not-so-graceful moments hopping around to get out of his jeans, he was finally standing there naked, too.

  “So,” Heath said, taking his appearance in, “you’re not just a pretty face. Turn around.”

  Before he could so much as ask, Heath spun Will around until his back was to him. Hands trailed down his sides as Heath dropped to his knees. Feather-light came a handful of brushes against his butt. “Five,” Heath said, standing again and twisting him around.

  “Five?”

  “Freckles on your arse. I’ve been wanting to know that for a while.”

  Pulling Heath onto the edge of the bed, they sat down next to each other and went right to stroking. Heath watched him with such intensity, worrying his bottom lip in his lust, that Will knew he wouldn’t last very long. He leaned into Heath and said, “It doesn’t count if we kissed at the same time, either.”

  And how he kissed those battered lips! It wasn’t long before Heath’s moans turned into a: “Does it count helping each other out?”

  Just like that their hands crossed and he took Heath’s hard, silky cock in his hand. The new pressure against his own cock sent a delicious shiver through him. Hell yes. This was exactly where he wanted to be. His free hand twined in Heath’s hair, pulling at it and exposing his neck where he sucked as he pumped. He’d see that mark in the morning and love it. It represented them. Together. At freaking last.

  And suddenly, they were horizontal, grinding against each other as their freed hands explored the planes of each other’s back, the hardness of their chests, and the sensitivity of their nipples.

  Will came first, a grunt ripping from him, and almost as soon as his semen shot out against Heath’s stomach, Heath came too.

  They kissed once more before Heath sat up and reached for the tissues on his side table to clean them up. Though a shower would be necessary, too.

  “Huh,” Heath said, grinning. “So much for no sex.”

  Will laughed and submitted to Heath cleaning him up. “See. Proof. I have no control around you.”

  After they’d both showered— separately—Vicky’s presence stopped Heath being adventurous—they collapsed back into bed. Satisfied and, well, on a bit of high, really.

  A yawn escaped him.

  “One last thing before you sleep, Will.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  A kiss landed on his lips. “Don’t even think about sneaking off in the morning.”

  12 Suckers

  He didn’t sneak off. He freaking floated though. It didn’t even bother him to ride in the deathtrap down to campus. Heath parked outside the Commerce building and stole a quick kiss over the console. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry?” Will asked, ducking under the strap of his bag. “What are you talking about?”

  “Last night—”

  “What?” He dropped his hand away from the door handle. The happy bubble he’d been in all morning popped, and it left his ears ringing. Surely he couldn’t have heard right? Heath wasn’t regretting that they’d—

  Another kiss landing on his lips stopped the thought. “You’re jumping to the wrong conclusion, Will. I can see it on your face.”

  “What would be the right conclusion then?”

  “I’m sorry for not trying harder to respect the one and a half week thing.”

  “That’s what you’re sorry about?”

  Heath frowned and reset his cap. “Well, partially. At least enough to make it up to you by promising to abstain the rest of the week and a half.”

  Ha, funny one, Heath. “Bit late now, isn’t it?”

  “Never too late.”

  He shook his head. It hadn’t just been Heath there last night, breaking the rules, it’d been him—and he’d wanted it. “Let’s just admit it. We could never hold out that long—turns out that little deal was just another lie.”

  “Well I don’t want any more lies between us. I want to do this. I want us to do this.”

  Will opened his door and swung one leg out.

  Heath added, “I bet we can hold out.”

  “We’ll break.” And he really wasn’t upset about the fact. He sorta wanted to shout to the world: Bring it on.

  “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  He pulled down the blinds in the office to stop the glare on his screen. Like every time he did it, he knocked one of Candice’s paints off the sill. Thankfully they were all tightly shut.

  He’d just settled the yellow back into place when Eric strode in with a coffee and a muffin. “Whadda ya doing?” he said with a mouth full of said muffin. “You snooping? Find anything?”

  Will looked down at himself behind Candice’s desk. Oh, yeah, he could see how Eric thought that’s what he was up to.

  Actually, it wasn’t a half bad idea.

  “Not yet, I haven’t. Man the lookout, I’ll pry.”

  He leafed through Candice’s books loose papers for anything remotely to do with painting. Nothing. He tried her bottom drawer and gulped. A folder labeled Canvas was the only thing in there. “Jackpot,” he said, and Eric scurried over.

  “What is it?”

  He opened the manila folder, and—“Oh. Dammit!” With a laugh he chucked it on top of the desk. Eric picked it up and read aloud:

  “‘You thought I’d keep the answers to the canvas mystery in my desk? In a folder labeled canvas? Suckers. I’m not that much of an idiot.’ Huh.” Eric grinned and sipped his coffee, his muffin long demolished. “Hey, did you check out the names on the back side?”

  Will rounded the desk where Eric had perched himself and peered at the paper. “‘John T. – confessed. Barry – confessed. Sig – caught red-handed.’” Fishing for a pen, Will took the paper. “Reckon we should add ourselves to the humiliation. Seems only fair.” He scrawled their names: Will
and Eric are suckers too.

  He stashed the folder back into her drawer and went back to work, which of course first involved checking his Facebook account. He’d barely settled into some real, actual, honest work, when Sig and Candice came in. Candice with a hot blue cast around her arm, Sig in his wizarding robe, worrying the top of his staff with his thumb.

  “So,” Candice said, answering them before either he or Eric had a chance to ask, “that was definitely the last time I slap someone. I fractured a carpal bone in my wrist. Same place as last time.” She looked at Sig, and Will bet anything she was thinking of how they met. Candice motioned the cast. “When you’re ready, feel free to sign your love. Until then, I am going to silently fume that my thesis will now never get done.”

  She took a step toward her desk and froze, eyes on her canvas. For a second, Will thought she’d taken one look at the thing and it had told her exactly what he and Eric had been up to, but then she bit her lip and uttered a quiet curse. “Well that’s going to be a little problem. Sig?”

  “Yeah?” Sig said, leaning back on his desk chair, rolling the staff over the chair’s arms like a rolling pin.

  “My arms in a cast.”

  “I was there when they put it on you, honey.”

  Candice’s face lit at the endearment, but Will could tell she was doing her darnedest to school it. “I mean, I can’t paint well with this.”

  No one was going to say she couldn’t paint that well with it off either.

  “You can’t paint so great with it off, either.”

  Except Sig, apparently.

  But he said with a disarming smile, and Candice only half-heartedly scowled back at him. “What I meant was I have a deadline.”

  The unveiling. He and Eric perked up, leaning none too subtly toward Candice as if that would help figure things out any. They really were suckers.

  “I might need—I mean, if you had some time—if it wouldn’t be a problem—”

  “Yes,” Sig said. “I’ll help you.”

  Candice gave a baffled nod. Then after a pause, added, “It doesn’t mean I’ll tell you what it’s for.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re just okay with that? You’d help me anyway?”

  “You know I’ll never give up trying to charm the answer out of you; you wouldn’t respect me if I did. But I respect you enough not to blackmail you into telling me. Besides”—He winked at her—“where’s the fun in that?”

  Forcing himself not to analyze that little exchange—because, come on, he’d got it wrong before, he probably would again—he opened his email and deleted the junk. Two mails were left: one from his sister and one from Karl.

  For the first time he didn’t feel the pain he usually did seeing his ex’s name.

  He clicked the mail open. Still nothing. He read through the usual pleasantries and a request for Will’s address. He wrote a simple reply back, giving him what would be his new address for the next couple of months.

  When he’d finished, he sat back with a satisfied smile. He hadn’t sucked in his breath and held it; there’d been no tingling hope, either. Just a contentedness, and the clarity that came with crossing the line from his past to what was his present: he was happy being here. Right where he was.

  In a room full of lovable freaks.

  And starting something with a guy who made him feel like he was among the stars when he was around him; who made him feel that high and that lucky.

  Yeah. He was happy. At the end of the world, things were starting to look up.

  13 Evil

  They barely shared a kiss in the week that followed. In fact, Heath seemed to be doing a stellar job at making sure they got little to no private time. Oh they did stuff together, went to coffee, saw a lunch-time theatre production with Sig, Candice, and Eric, and spent most of their free evening talking on the phone. But it was obvious Heath was avoiding temptation. He was a bit of a stubborn ass about it, too.

  Of course, now that Friday had come and Heath was due to pick him up for their trip any second now, he was hoping they’d break. In fact, he’d stocked his bags well with the plan they would break the one-and-a-half-week rule many, many times. And he didn’t feel a tad guilty for it.

  He heaved the backpack onto his shoulders, yelled a goodbye to Benny who was cooking breakfast for James, and headed out the front door. He’d just opened the gate when Sally screeched to a halt in front of him, and Heath jumped out of the driver’s seat.

  “I’m so ready for this. Mum’s in a good mood. Rory is taking care of Murky. And last night, I finished a book exploring Hobbes’s theorem on”—He must have seen his uncomprehending face, because he cut himself short, grinning—“You ready?”

  Will’s eyes none-too-subtly trailed over Heath’s form-fitting t-shirt, showing off his chest, tapering to his hips. Oh yeah he was ready.

  Snatching Will’s pack, Heath let out a ompf. “What the hell do you have in here? You know we have to bike 150 kilometers with these, right?”

  “Yeah, but we’re doing it over three days.” He had two sets of fresh clothes for each day—the stuff he’d wear biking and the stuff he would change into afterwards. That and some toiletries and a towel—it really wasn’t that much. Oh, and a few snacks and water. And a book for the evenings.

  “Exactly,” Heath said. “Three days. Not a month.” He shook his head and shoved the bag into the back along with one of the bikes they’d be using. “We’ll sort it out later. Jump in. Let’s get going.”

  Ten minutes into the trip, Sally rumbling under them, Heath cranked up the volume on Road Trippin’. “Love the Chili Peppers,” Heath said, bopping his head.

  “No kidding.”

  It seemed to be the only thing Heath played in the car at all. Will’d internally groaned all the times Heath flicked it on before, wishing for, well, practically anything else. Except now he sorta didn’t. The Chili Peppers would from now on remind him of Heath. Hell, before he knew it, he’d be the one listening to them five hours straight over and over on his flight back home.

  A cold shiver crawled up his spine. He was going back home eventually. They—Heath and him—whatever-it-was between them, would be over. To be remembered as that fling he had while he was at the end of the world.

  This had an expiration date.

  He slid deeper into his seat, resting his feet against the dash and staring at his knees.

  “What’s going through that mind of yours?” Heath asked, turning the music down.

  “Nothing.” Will forced a smile, while pushing the depressing thoughts away. He wouldn’t dwell on it. They’d just got together. This was their start. He didn’t need to anticipate the end already.

  In fact, he wouldn’t. He’d live in and love the moment and all that.

  “Hey, Will?” Heath said as he pulled over the side of the road.

  Will dropped his legs and sat up. “Yeah? Why’re we stopping.”

  “Because I reckon you should drive.”

  Him? Drive the deathtrap? “Uhhh, well . . .”

  “She doesn’t bite. Now, move that cute arse of yours and get in here.”

  Heath had rounded the car to Will’s side before he finally opened his door and got out. Heath dangled the keys in front of him. “Remember. Keep left.”

  “Sure that’s right?” He snatched the keys and made his way around the hood.

  “No, it’s left.”

  He jumped into the driver’s side, glancing to Heath as he slid the keys into the ignition. “God, we are so lame.”

  Heath pulled his belt. “Yep. Lame and love it.”

  Will took the Lonely Planet New Zealand off the dash and did the honors of locking his guy into place. He grinned as he let slowly out the clutch and smoothly made his way onto the road. Only twice did he grind the gears.

  “Huh,” Heath said. “Except for using the windshield wipers to indicate, you’re not so bad.”

  He laughed. “Well, there’s no need to hill start here.”<
br />
  In just over an hour, they reached Middlemarch, the end of their trail and where they were leaving the Commodore. While Heath fussed about sorting their bikes and gear, Will dashed into Quench café and ordered them both a drink.

  “Here you go—” he started to say to Heath who was looking at him shaking his head. Heath grabbed both their drinks, smiling briefly at the pink marshmallows atop his cup, and placed them on Sally’s roof. Then he picked up Will’s pack and threw it at him.

  It was much lighter than before. Much.

  “Seriously, this?” Heath said, picking up his book on cloud computing from the back seat. “What type of holiday do you think this is?”

  Well that sounded promising. The book had been a security of sorts—in case it all turned weird between them or something. At least he could use the time productively. “What else did you get rid of?”

  “Only the stuff you absolutely don’t need.”

  He peered into the back. “What are half of my clothes doing in there?”

  “Babe, come on, trust me. You don’t need so many.”

  He straightened and took his coffee, swallowing a cheer swelling his throat at the ‘babe’ endearment. He faked some cool and raised a brow. “Oh, is that a promise? ’Cause in that case, I might be able to live with it.”

  Heath blinked, then his tongue darted over his bottom lip. “Gah.” He grabbed the pack off him and ripped the zips open. “Okay, you can have one more set.” He stuffed in two items of clothing and redid the zips. This time when he handed the pack over, he leaned in, whispering in his ear. “I’m not going to break.” He grazed his lips over Will’s freshly shaven cheek and breathed in his aftershave before stepping back.

  Heath took his hot chocolate and sipped, eyes still glued to him, desire unmistakable, but it was framed with that stubbornness of his. Well, challenge on.

  * * *

  After busing to Clyde, they started their trail, stopping briefly in Alexandra before heading on to Chatto Creek. The old railway track was mostly covered in gravel—or maybe rocks were a better description, so many of them being fist-sized and all. Well, that’s what they felt like. Good thing he was gay, really, because he wasn’t sure after this bumpy ride, he’d ever be able to reproduce.