William

by Anyta Sunday

  The golden hills in the background and tans and yellows of the fields they passed were stunning though. Quite making up for the small seat abusing his groin.

  Almost.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never thought of doing this before!” Heath said, biking with far too much ease up the slight incline. Bastard.

  Will grunted a response. Better that than to wheeze a reply. He made a mental note to join a gym or something. Running obviously wasn’t enough.

  “You’re looking real flushed there and lagging behind a bit. You okay? Should I slow it down for you?”

  As soon as he was off this bike, he was going to throttle the guy. Who on earth would say yes to that? Well not him. He had pride, after all.

  He sucked in some air and threw him his best smile, ignoring the stitch in his side. “Slow down? Pfft, any slower and I may as well walk.” Oh God. To walk . . . “I’m only lagging behind, because the surroundings are just so beautiful. Need to take it all in, you know?”

  Just breathe through the pain. And when the freaking hell will this incline end?

  “Good point,” Heath said, and stopped suddenly.

  The idea of stopping had, a moment before, sounded a brilliant plan to him, but thinking on it, he wasn’t so sure anymore. If he stopped mid-incline, he might not be able to start again. At least he had momentum now. Best to keep going.

  He glanced briefly over his shoulder at Heath holding up his camera and snapping shots of him. If he looked anyway near how he felt on those photos, he was going to delete them all.

  After a few minutes, the incline mercifully gave in to a steady flat. Bumping over the path around a corner, Will jerked to a stop as a dog barked at him from the side of the trail. It was behind a wire fence, but with a little imagination, the dog could easily get out. Will’s whole body had stiffened, his breathing much shallower than it had been all day.

  Where was Heath now when some of that dog protectiveness he talked about would actually come in handy? Damn, he should have stopped mid-incline. That would have been better than this.

  He pushed off the ground with his feet, slowly inching backwards and away from the dog. His instinct was to disappear around the corner he’d come from and wait for Heath. But what kind of man did that make him? He was tired of being freaked out by dogs. It was time to get over it, to move on. He could do this.

  He got off his bike and pushed it farther from the fenced dog, and, taking it step-by-step, he shoved the bike forward. He’d only gone six feet or so, when Heath careened around the bend and slid to a stop, whipping up a cloud of dust and sending the dog into a frenzy of terrifying barks.

  “Oh, shit, sorry,” Heath said as he took in the situation. He got off his bike and pushed it over to him. “The dog is just excited; it’ll be okay, Will. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  For some reason, Heath saying that to him wasn’t reassuring. Actually, right then, it was the last thing he wanted to hear. Maybe because it felt like his weaknesses were being rubbed into his face or something. “Nothing to worry about? You can’t know that. You can’t be so sure. Fucking, eh. It’s not always okay.”

  He let go of his bike and stormed around the corner where the barks quieted and he felt safer with the distance. Safe, but stupid. Leaning on a directions post, arms crossed, he cursed himself for being so dramatic. When Heath came into view, hauling both bikes, Will hung his head. Yeah, stupid. Why’d he reacted like that?

  Well, he knew why, but it didn’t make it okay.

  Coming to a stop in front of him, Heath said nothing but handed him his bike.

  They rode farther down the path in silence for a few minutes, before he finally found the courage to say something. “I’m sorry.”

  Heath glanced at him, but said nothing.

  “We were bike riding up a hill,” he said, “My sister and I, when she was nine and I was thirteen.”

  He breathed in the cooling twilight air and checked to see if Heath was listening. He looked ahead toward the hills in the distance, but he’d slowed down and shortened the gap between them.

  “This unleashed dog dashed out of a property and chased us. Before I knew it, the dog had its teeth in my sister’s arm and she was screaming my name to make it stop.” He pushed harder on the pedals as he recounted the story. “I was frozen. I couldn’t do anything to help. The owner was the one who managed to get him off in the end and called the ambulance. I just . . . I just watched, Heath. It frightened the hell out of me. But I was the big brother. I should have—”

  Heath’s brakes screeched as he stopped, and Will stopped automatically to check if he was all right. Off his bike, Will watched Heath kick the stand down and come over to him.

  His breath caught when Heath’s hands gripped the sides of his face. “I’m sorry. I was insensitive back there.” He stroked his cheek. “Forgive me?”

  Will twisted and kissed Heath’s palm. “Only if you promise to forget how waaay over the top I reacted.”

  Heath allowed himself a small grin, and Will went to kiss it off him, only their helmets clashed and jerked them out of the moment. They laughed and rode the last few kilometers to Omakau, their destination for the night.

  The hotel was nice. Had quite a rustic feel to it. The fact there was a restaurant though, made it feel like luxury. A warm meal was exactly what he wanted after day one of the Rail Trail.

  He ordered the steak with the potato mash and the gravy in a separate carafe on the side. The salad could come in a bowl with the bread if it was toasted, but otherwise the bread would be best in a basket.

  After he’d finished ordering, he looked up at Heath sitting across from him at their corner table. The guy was staring at him with a smirk twitching at his lips.

  “What?” Will said.

  Heath shook his head. “Nothing.” When their drinks came, they cheered. “To new beginnings.”

  He certainly liked the sound of that.

  “So,” Heath said, “I talked to my old professor yesterday.”

  Will perked up, putting his fork down to listen. “Yeah?”

  “He said he’d been hoping I’d choose to come back. Finish up my Bachelor of Honors.” Will gripped the table top. Was Heath saying what he thought he was? “He even offered for me to be his assistant next semester.”

  “What are you saying, exactly?” Hope had his voice a little squeaky. It was just, he’d seen how much Heath loved politics and philosophy and it seemed a shame he’d quit. No matter how good his intentions had been toward Vicky. This was just something Heath had to do for himself. Anyone could see that.

  “It’d be a full semester. But I could finish by the end of the year.”

  “You’re going back to uni?”

  “Yeah, babe. I’m going back.”

  He wanted to hug him, kiss him, tell him how great he thought the news was, but they were also in rural New Zealand, and he didn’t feel this was the best place for such public displays of affection. Instead, he bit his bottom lip and locked a foot with Heath’s under the table. “I think that’s great. Really, really great.”

  “You won’t get sick of me? Hanging at campus all the time, bugging you in my breaks?”

  What he said was a dream come true. “Bug away.”

  The minute—the second—their hotel room door shut, Will yanked Heath into him and slanted their lips together. They’d showered—separately, unfortunately—before dinner, and Will could smell the coconut shampoo they’d both used. Heath had ditched all of Will’s toiletries save the deodorant, claiming there’d be stuff in the places they stayed and that they really only needed one toothpaste between them.

  “You’re making this hard,” Heath said—cursed?—as Will continued to press himself against him, backing him toward the bed.

  “I could really help with that.”

  Heath laughed and sucked on his earlobe. “You’re so fucking hot, Will. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

  “So keep them on.”


  Heath twisted them, lowering Will onto the bed. He kissed him once more, long and hard, his body hot and heavy on his. Then looking into his eyes, Heath shook his head. “We can’t do this.”

  “Sure we can. Break. Give in, you know you want to.”

  “I do, but I won’t. And we don’t have supplies, so . . .” Heath rolled off him.

  “Ah ha!” Will leaped out of bed and headed for his backpack. Digging to the bottom, he said, “You may not have supplies, but—” Wait a sec, where was the little black bag he’d stashed in here? He looked at Heath, who had twisted his head toward the door, looking like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh no you didn’t!”

  “I did. And I have to say, I’ve never been so glad of my foresight. I knew you’d be tough to resist.” Heath did turn to him then, the laugh gone. “I want to show you I respect us.”

  Will collapsed back onto the bed. “I don’t know if that’s really smart and thoughtful, or incredibly stupid. What if we get carried away?”

  “That’s the point. Now we can’t.”

  “You’re evil, know that?”

  “Yeah. You love it.”

  He did.

  “Besides,” Heath said, “instead of getting lost in lust with you—which, let me say, after this week and a half thing is over we are so making up for—I’d really rather learn more about you.”

  “More about me? What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  “Narrow it down a bit?”

  “Okay, so, history. Let’s talk exes.”

  “Interesting place to start.”

  “I like to get the jealousy part over and done with.”

  Fine by him. “Okay. So my ex, Karl . . .” He narrowed his eyes at Heath. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  Heath took in an exaggerated breath and let it out slowly, then craned his neck either side as if preparing for fight. “Bring it on.”

  All right then. “Not to sugar coat anything then, blunt honesty and all that”—he sent him another look—“because we are all about the honesty now. Well, I was in love with him. I wanted to marry him.”

  Heath groaned like he’d been hit in the gut. “I don’t like the guy already.”

  Will gave a small laugh, but the memories were still so painful, no matter how over Karl he was, just thinking about that night made him want to curl into a ball of embarrassment, hurt, shame, misjudgment.

  “He was in the closet—at least to his family, and I screwed it all up. I remember Karl got sick with some virus and so I attempted to make him some soup. It was awful, and Karl said so, but he also said that it’d touched him I’d tried. Then the next week I was sick with the same thing and he looked after me. His soup was, of course, so much better. At that moment, I just thought how much I wanted this forever. This care and tenderness between us. We went to dinner at his place the following weekend—his family thought we were just friends—anyway, this time, sitting around the table, laughing and joking together, I thought his family loved me, too. I mean, his mom was always fussing over me, urging me to eat more whenever I visited. It felt nice. I wanted that too. I guess the feelings all sort of built up and then, well, my big mouth just ran away with it.”

  Will looked past Heath as if he could see the scene playing out before him.

  “I blurted out a proposal.” He swallowed, closing his eyes. “I just said it. It wasn’t planned, it just felt right.” He laughed; how wrong he’d felt that. “I guess I thought it was romantic, passionate.” For that brief moment, that second he’d said the words, he’d been exhilarated. “But it didn’t turn out as I imagined. His family turned their backs on Karl, they were disgusted by him and me. And Karl . . . I’d never seen him so distraught, so angry. He punched me in the nose and told me to f—off. He never wanted to see me again.” Will’s throat felt so damn tight and raw as he continued to speak. “Only after many months of apologizing was I lucky enough that he came around. Forgave me. I met him again a few months ago, a couple of weeks before coming here, actually. He’s happy now, moved on, and is in love with someone like he never was with me.”

  He reopened his eyes, this time to focus on Heath. Heath lay still beside him, face devoid of emotion. At some point, he’d grabbed the cap he’d earlier placed on his side table and flipped it in his hands.

  Heath finally looked at him. “I hate the guy.”

  “Did you hear what I said? I outed him. I fucked up.”

  Flipping onto his front, Heath rested on one elbow and with his other arm, reached out and touched Will’s face. Gently, he grazed over his nose with the pad of his thumb. “I really hate the guy.”

  “Well, we’re all good now. Friends.”

  Heath shook his head. “Can’t say much for your choice of friends.”

  Will heard his own words coming out of Heath’s mouth. “Touché.” Maybe Karl was to Heath what Rory was to him.

  “Dare I ask about other exes?”

  “That was my most significant. But I’ve ruined others with my big, stupid mouth—”

  “Hey, watch it.” He grinned. “I rather like that mouth.”

  Will lifted himself and kissed Heath, long, slow, wet. He pushed him onto his back and continued the kiss, trailing down his neck as he bunched up his t-shirt. “You like it now?” he said, kissing his way down Heath’s treasure trail. “Then just wait until—”

  Heath groaned. “Don’t you dare finish that, Will. Evil, evil, evil.” He leaped off the bed, and, two strides later, the bathroom door slammed shut. “Evil,” came muffled through the wood.

  Heath was none too quiet about what he was up to in the bathroom, but it was only with the third moan when Will realized that, in fact, was the point.

  His breath caught, and he rolled onto his back, sliding his jeans over his hips along with his briefs. God he was hard, his balls tight. He thumbed the pre-cum on his cock, swirling it around the head, imagining Heath’s hot mouth on him. Gripping himself, he stroked. He let out a moan of his own, making sure he was loud enough it carried.

  “Oh fuck,” Heath said. “You have no idea how badly I want to come out there.”

  “So come out here.”

  “Not. Going. To. Fuuuck.” There was no doubt Heath had come with that last part, and the knowledge sent Will over the edge. Three strokes later, imagining he was rocking his hips and pushing his cock against Heath’s lips, he came hard, ropes of semen catching on his t-shirt.

  The second of only three t-shirts Heath had allowed him for the trip. But right now he didn’t care, still basking in the afterglow of release.

  The bed dipped as Heath jumped next to him. Then a warm wash cloth was on him, and he opened his eyes to Heath carefully cleaning him up. Will locked his hands behind his head and watched him.

  “Thank you,” he said once Heath was done.

  Heath grunted and said affectionately, “You’re evil, know that?”

  “Yeah, you love it.”

  “I do.”

  Will cleared the emotion building inside him with a cough and pulled up his underpants, ditching his jeans for the night. He needed to change the topic to stop him going all gooey inside. Jumping under the covers, he said the first thing that came to mind. “So, what was with you leading Benny on?”

  “What? Where the heck did that come from?”

  Desperation? A need to stop himself and his big mouth from blurting something really stupid. Because, come on, that would be crazy talk so soon into their . . . thing.

  “James hates you,” Will carried on, “He says you led Benny on and played around with his feelings.”

  All the more reason for him to take things slowly. Emotionally, anyway.

  Heath snorted. “James doesn’t hate me, he won’t admit it, but he’s totally grateful for my assholey behavior back then. If it weren’t for that, he and Benny might never have gotten it together.”

  “So, you admit to being an asshole.”

  The covers lifted as Heath climbed into bed
next to him. “I’ve done some shitty things. Before William, it would never occur to me to think twice before throwing a punch at someone if they started a fight with me. I also let girls think I was totally into them when I wasn’t. I’ve been cruel to people’s hearts before. I’ve been thoughtless and selfish. So, yeah. I really was an asshole.”

  “I liked your toast earlier,” he said, fishing for Heath’s hand and threading their fingers together. He squeezed. New beginnings. They’d both screwed up, done things they regretted, but now they were starting again. Moving on. Trying to be that little bit better.

  Well into the night they talked. He didn’t know how it was possible, but conversation just seemed to grow between them, and the moments where both had nothing more to say, there was only comfortable silence.

  “Anything else you want to know about me?” Heath asked with a yawn.

  “Plenty.”

  “Yeah? I thought by now you’d have heard enough to put you off for a lifetime.”

  “Not even close.”

  “Go on then, shoot. Ask me something you’re dying to know.”

  He shifted onto his side. “Actually there is something I’ve been more than curious about.”

  Heath breathed out deeply. “You sound serious.” He shuffled into a sitting position and sat, resting his back against the wall. “What is it?”

  Will mimicked his move. “What are you afraid of?”

  The lights had been on the entire night, but now he wished they were off and they had this conversation drowned in darkness, because he had a feeling it would be easier for Heath to speak if Will couldn’t see the emotion choking his face. Heath had fisted the sheets in both hands and was pulling them taut.

  “I’m . . . I’m afraid of forgetting him.”

  Ah. What could he say to that? He had no morsels of wisdom at all. Had nothing except sympathy. Slipping an arm around Heath, he drew him close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You won’t.”

  “Huh. Something you and Rory agree on.”

  “In this case he’s right.”