by A. M. Arthur
Taz blinked hard, still slightly dazed. “Nothing, it’s just...when you ate that? You looked, I don’t know...like you were having a religious experience.”
“I prefer to think of it as an orgasmic experience. This is delicious. Seriously.”
“Good. Great! I mean, Peter’s brought over pizza from there before, but I’ve never tried their other stuff.”
“Well, then, try it. Stop gawking at me.” Will cut off another bite, eager to relive the experience. After several more mouthfuls of lasagna, he tried the garlic bread. Crispy, buttery and just enough garlic that it didn’t overwhelm him. He washed that down with some wine, and suddenly the pairing made sense to him.
Best. Meal. Ever.
Taz was enjoying it, too, judging by the way his plate cleared twice as fast as Will’s. But Will wanted to really enjoy this. To taste everything going into his mouth for a change, rather than getting it into his stomach for fuel. He couldn’t imagine the skill required to make something taste so insanely good.
“Whoever cooks at this restaurant you ordered from is a genius,” Will said. “Seriously.”
“It’s takeout food from a pizza place, but I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it. I can’t believe food can taste this good.”
Taz seemed about to say something else, but sipped his wine instead. “Man, you can drink this if you want. I’m getting a root beer.”
“Wimp.” Will liked the wine together with the food. Somehow it all worked. Too bad he was nineteen and almost a year and a half left before he could legally begin investigating wines more thoroughly.
Taz fetched his soda, while Will tried to eat more. He’d only really managed about half his portion and one of the garlic bread pieces, but he was full. Fuller than he’d been after a meal in as long as he could remember.
“I can’t finish it.” Will put his fork down and sulked.
“Look on the bright side. Leftovers. You get to experience the whole thing twice.”
He perked up. “This is true. And you totally have to give me the name of this place. I need more of their food.”
“I’ll think about it.” Taz grinned. “Although I think I’d like to take you there myself, instead.”
“Sure.” Will didn’t let himself get too worked up over the prospect. God only knew when Taz would be comfortable enough to fulfill that promise.
“I deserve that.”
“Deserve what?”
“I can see you thinking your doubts about when that will be.” Taz folded his hands on top of the table and leaned forward. “But I think I had a series of mini breakthroughs today.”
“The table and chairs?”
“That was one of them. The other was when I went out to buy the wine. I went to the corner store, like usual, but I actually talked to the owner today. Rueben. He asked if I was in the military because my scars reminded him of scars his brother has from Vietnam.”
“Really?” Will waited for the episode that had to have followed. “What did you say?”
“I told him the truth. About coming out and the acid. He was incredibly supportive. Said he has a daughter who’s a lesbian, and he’s doing his best to love her and accept her.” Taz sucked on his lower lip for a moment. “Other than you, that’s the most normal, unobtrusive conversation I’ve ever had about my scars. He made me feel...less ugly. Less noticeable.”
“That’s a good thing. Right?”
“It’s a really good thing. Before the assault, I liked it when people looked at me. I liked the attention. And then it all turned bad, and the only thing I could see when I looked in the mirror was the face I had right after.” Taz let out a long, slow breath. “I got a look once, before they started the grafts, while a nurse was changing the bandages. It was...awful. I know it’s nowhere near as bad now, and I’m finally starting to believe it. Because of you.”
Heat rushed through Will, carrying with it so many wonderful feelings. Feelings he’d never had for another person before, and they scared him a little. He stood and crossed the four steps to take Taz’s chin in his palm. Tilt Taz’s face up so they could see eye to eye. “You amaze me, Thomas Zachary, every single day. You are the best person I’ve ever known.” Will brushed his thumb across Taz’s cheek, melting under the heat in Taz’s green eyes. “I’m not sure, because I’ve never felt it before, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Taz’s entire face lit up. “Yeah? Me too. A little bit more every day.”
Any argument he might have ever possessed against being with Taz disappeared under the intensity of that moment. The joy bouncing between them. The mutual respect. The shared knowledge of their respective problems, and how hard they were both working to be better.
To get better and live as normal a life as possible.
“You know I don’t know what I’m doing,” Will said. “I’ve never been in love. I’m not even sure how to love someone else. I barely know how to love myself.”
“It’s okay. Keep doing exactly what you’re doing.” Taz curled a hand behind Will’s neck and pulled his head down so their foreheads touched. “We’ll figure this out together. Every step of the way.”
“Good.” Will angled his neck so their noses rubbed. “So what’s for dessert?”
“Dessert’s for later. How about a movie?”
“Spoilsport.”
“You don’t know what I’ve got planned for dessert.”
Will’s dick had stayed mostly out of the conversation so far, but the slight tease in Taz’s words had it thickening in his shorts. After last night’s epic make-out session, he wasn’t embarrassed about popping wood in front of Taz, but he didn’t want to seem too eager. Especially if dessert really was a regular, edible dessert, instead of sexy times.
Taz insisted Will hang out while he put the leftovers away and the dishes in the sink. Then, wine and root beer in hand, they settled on the couch, curled up close together, to surf for a movie they could stream. Will picked one called Burnt because it was about a chef and starred Bradley Cooper, so it was a win-win for him. For the first time in his life, he was genuinely interested in food as something other than fuel to stay alive.
He became so engrossed in the film, he nearly forgot Taz was right next to him, until Taz’s hand wandered from Will’s shoulder to his hip. He loved how he fit against Taz’s taller, softer body and could curl in close. And maybe Taz was ashamed of his less-than-flat stomach, but halfway through the movie, Will shifted to lie on the cushions, his head pillowed on Taz’s belly. It moved his hip out of reach, so Taz started playing with his hair.
The soft pets and strokes made Will want to purr, so he showed how much he liked it by rubbing Taz’s thigh. It wasn’t long before Taz’s slacks were tented at eye level, and a wicked burn filled Will’s belly. He wanted so badly to know what Taz tasted like. How his erect cock would feel in his mouth, passing his lips, hitting the back of his throat.
He wanted to know what sounds Taz made when he came.
He also didn’t want to ruin such an intimate, comfortable moment by making the first move.
As the movie drew to its climax, Taz’s fingers left his hair and began drawing lazy circles on Will’s back. Too gentle to be a back rub, but a wonderful feeling all the same, Will relaxed deeper into it, only able to keep his eyes open because he wanted to see how the film ended. Eventually it did, and the credits rolled. Will sighed, so content in that moment that he never wanted to move.
Taz changed the channel to something all music. “Lift your head up a sec,” he said.
Will did, trusting whatever Taz had in mind for dessert. Taz slid out from beneath him, then down to kneel on the floor. He put a pillow beneath Will’s head, then arranged Will flat on his stomach, both of his arms straight against his sides. The position left Will vulnerable, and it made him
a little nervous, but he—
“Trust me?” Taz asked.
“I trust you.” Will blinked sleepily at Taz, loving how his right cheek had pinked up. Eager or embarrassed, Will didn’t care as long as Taz started touching him very soon. “Whatever you want.”
Taz began a slow, steady back rub over the fabric of his polo, working the muscles with the heels of his hands, smoothing down his spine. Never dipping lower than the small of his back. Will parted his legs, inviting exploration, but Taz didn’t stray. At some point, his hands slipped beneath the polo, bunching the fabric up, skin on skin, and everywhere Taz touched him, Will felt treasured. Needed.
Alive.
Then he started working Will’s arms in the same precise way, up and down, over and over, until his entire upper body was jelly. Made it difficult to follow instructions when Taz said, “Roll over. Take your shirt off, too.”
This was going happy places. With a little help, Will got the shirt off and sprawled on the sofa on his back, not even caring that his shorts were tented high. He was nowhere close to coming, but goddamn, the massage was more sensual than any orgasm he’d ever had. Only Taz hadn’t started touching him again. He blinked up at Taz, curious.
Taz was staring at his left side, probably at the cluster of circular scars there, a few inches below his pec. Taz’s fingers whispered over them. “Cigarette burns?”
The spot-on guess startled him. “Yeah. One of them—” Fuck, but Will hated bringing those men into their current present. Red-hot shame poured over him, and his entire body went hot. “One of them used to put his cigarettes out on me. Said it made me clench up.”
The devastated look on Taz’s face was too much. Will had said too much, confirming something Taz had probably only guessed had happened. Will curled onto his side, away, and covered his face with his hands. At least the burner had been one of the three originally caught. It had given Will a tiny amount of comfort, even if he’d still carry those awful scars for the rest of his life. Physical proof of what he’d allowed to happen for years.
I see the moon, and the moon sees me. The moon sees the somebody I’d like to see.
His shrink’s voice overtook the nursery rhyme: “You didn’t allow anything to happen.”
Yes, I did. I never said no.
“If you’d said no, do you think they would have listened?”
An old, old argument. Will thought he’d accepted he couldn’t have done anything to stop the assaults short of stealing a gun and shooting anyone who entered his bedroom. And then he’d relive something from those two years, a detail, like the burns, and all of the old shame returned. The same shame that had nearly killed him.
“Will, please look at me.”
Taz’s even, calm tone was the only reason Will sat up, arms hugged tight to his bare chest, and met Taz’s eyes. Taz wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry or disgusted. A little sad, maybe.
“I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to believe me.” Taz wrapped his hand around the back of Will’s neck, a steadying pressure that kept Will focused. “Nothing you ever tell me about your past is going to make me walk away. You were abused, and that’s not your fault. Nothing that happened to you is your fault, and I will never judge you for it. I promise.”
Will’s eyes prickled. “You don’t know all of it.”
“I don’t need to. Maybe one day you’ll tell me, and I hope you will. I hope you’ll trust me enough to hold you together while you fall apart. I hope you’ll trust me with something that is such a huge part of who you are, because I can see how much it still hurts you.”
He wanted that, too. So much. He also didn’t want to expose Taz to all of that ugliness. He didn’t want to risk Taz realizing exactly how dirty and used Will really was.
“You’re doing it again,” Taz said.
“Doing what?”
“Assuming things about me, and expecting the worst. It hurts that you still doubt me.”
“I’m sorry.” Will tugged his shirt back on, way too exposed now, and his hard-on had long since died. “I’m sorry, it’s all in my stupid head, I know that. You’ve only ever been amazing to me, and I keep fucking up.”
“You haven’t fucked anything up.” Taz sat next to him, wrapped both arms around him, and pulled Will back so he was leaning against Taz’s chest. He rested his chin on Will’s shoulder, his stubbly cheek rasping against Will’s. “This thing we’re doing, though? Talking? It’s what helps things get better. Talking things out, instead of running away, means we both care enough to try. No matter how hard it gets, we’re here. Together.”
The words rumbled into Will’s skin, soaking up their meaning and Taz’s firm, confident tone of voice. He found strength in that, and relaxed into Taz’s arms. He blinked away a thin film of tears that never really fell, stupidly grateful for Taz’s constant support and stubbornness. “Talking about things is part of being in a relationship,” Will said.
“Exactly. So far I think we’re kind of winning at it.”
Will laughed. “If you say so. I feel like I’m floundering around in the dark, hoping not to stub my toe on all the sharp edges of my past.”
“Wow, that was...really profound.”
“Shut up.”
Taz smacked a wet kiss onto his cheek. “Make me.”
“Oh God, now you’re going all second grade on me. Are you going to throw ‘I know you are, but what am I?’ at me next?”
“Are you objecting to my inner seven-year-old? Because I could up it to twelve and give you a wedgie.”
Will elbowed Taz’s ribs. “Do it, and I won’t kiss you again for a month.”
“Them’s fightin’ words, Madden.”
The first dig of Taz’s tickling fingers against his ribs made Will shriek with laughter. Uncertain if Taz was even ticklish, Will wriggled around so he could attack Taz’s belly. Everything dissolved into hands and fingers and loud laughter, until Will could barely breathe. Somehow they’d ended up on the floor with Taz on his back and Will straddling his hips. Taz didn’t fight back when Will grabbed his wrists and pressed them into the floor.
“You give?” Will asked.
Taz laughed, because they both knew he could flip Will off him without breaking a sweat. “I give. I love hearing you laugh like that.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed like that.” Will leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Taz’s mouth. “Thank you. You always know how to make things okay again.”
“Things weren’t not okay before. They just got a little serious.”
“Sorry.”
Taz nuzzled his nose. “Stop. Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to forgive.”
Will let go of Taz’s wrists, then rested his head on Taz’s chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. “How is it that you make me feel completely put together and like a total mess at the same time?”
“My charming personality?”
“Dork.”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
Will laughed so hard he rolled right off Taz and onto the carpet. “Oh my God, you went there.”
Taz just lay there, watching, while Will struggled to control himself. Will had no idea what Taz had actually planned for dessert beyond that back rub, but goddamn if this wasn’t amazing. Laughing and teasing and pretending to be normal guys for a little while.
It was pretty damned close to perfect.
Chapter Twelve
Taz hadn’t planned their date with any expected ending in mind, other than knowing Will had a great time. The massage had been an impromptu decision, spawned by how relaxed Will had gotten while watching the movie—and also from Taz’s desire to remove some of Will’s stress. It had been a tough week for both of them.
Hell, it hadn’t even been an entire week yet, but somehow
Taz’s life felt infinitely different than it had before Will. Infinitely different and infinitely better. Agreeing to walk to the park that first time—hell, was that really only this past Tuesday?—was the best decision he’d ever made.
It was also the most frustrating. Dipping into Will’s past was like playing Russian roulette with his mood. Bring up the wrong thing, and boom. The walls came up, and Will tried to shut down. But Taz was figuring out how to draw Will back out, cheer him up, and make it all okay.
He smiled through Will’s current laughing fit, loving every cheerful sound and squawk coming out of his boyfriend. And hating the man responsible for those cigarette burns with every fiber of his being. Will had admitted to being molested by more than one person, without giving any details. Molested could mean a lot of different things, from touching to penetration, and Taz had held out hope that the latter hadn’t happened.
The burn confession dashed that hope to pieces, and it made a deep-down part of Taz rage. He’d kept hold of that rage, though. No way did he want Will to see it, not when they were having such an amazing time. Taz would save the rage for later, when he was alone and could vent it properly.
Will calmed himself with a few deep breaths, and then they were lying side by side on the carpet, grinning at each other. Will’s cheeks were pink, his eyes shiny, so happy and relaxed in that moment that Taz hesitated to break the spell by speaking.
“Fuck, I’m thirsty,” Will said.
“Want a glass of water?” Taz could use some, too.
“Sure.” Will sat up, then scrambled to his feet. “Hang out, I’ll get it.”
“Okay.”
Taz wasn’t used to being waited on in his own place, so he enjoyed the novelty. He shifted so he could lean against the couch, legs stretched out in front of him. Will returned with two cold glasses of water; he handed one to Taz before dropping down next to him.
“Thank you,” Taz said. The cool water soothed his parched throat.
Will gulped his, Adam’s apple bobbing with each large swallow. “Damn, I needed that. Does wine always make your throat sticky?”