by A. M. Arthur
“It can, I guess. Certain drinks make me thirsty, especially cocktails. It’s all the sugar.”
“That makes sense. I did really like the wine, though. And dinner. Dinner was amazing.”
Taz thought back to something Will had mentioned while they ate. “Earlier you said you couldn’t believe food could taste that good, and then you really got into a movie about a chef.”
“Yeah.” Will started picking at the label on his bottle.
“Will you tell me more about that? What are you used to eating?”
“Whatever’s easiest. When I was really young, there was always peanut butter sandwiches, bologna, canned soup, stuff like that. Then when I was eleven, my mom got hurt at work and ended up hooked on painkillers. Eventually, that led to a heroin addiction. By the time I was thirteen, all of her disability checks were going into bills, or up her arm. There wasn’t anything left to buy food. So I started stealing, or rooting through store garbage cans for edible food. It was all about survival, not what it tasted like. For a long time.”
Will got quieter and quieter the more he spoke, until those final four words were barely a whisper. Taz squeezed Will’s thigh, hoping the contact helped. Will put his water down, then covered Taz’s hand with his own.
“When I first went into foster care, I had a lot of trouble eating,” Will said, still telling his story to his own knees, rather than to Taz. “It was a constant battle between me and Jennifer, and twice I ended up hospitalized with a feeding tube.”
“Christ.” Taz hadn’t meant to interrupt, but that slipped out.
“Both times my shrink threw a fit. He didn’t like that the doctors were forcing anything on me, because I’d been forced enough, you know?”
Taz didn’t know, not really. But he was smart enough to keep quiet and let Will talk. This was the most Will had ever told him about his past, and he wanted every scrap of information Will was willing to give.
“Eventually my shrink and I figured out why I was so scared of solid food, and we worked on it. I started eating more, but I still preferred bland stuff. Like basic turkey on white bread.” Will glanced over with a shy smile. “I kind of envied all of the crazy toppings you wanted on your sandwich. It scared me to try so many things at once.”
“There’s nothing wrong with turkey on white,” Taz said, returning the smile. “I ate a lot of plain ham sandwiches as a kid. Then I was placed with a Latino foster family, and I learned about spices and condiments.”
“I don’t know why I keep forgetting you were in foster care, too. I guess because you went to college, while I don’t even have a GED.”
“It doesn’t matter how far you went in school. I didn’t finish my degree.”
“But you could, if you wanted to.”
Taz shrugged. “I don’t know if I want to. I mean, I like the job I have. The hours are flexible and it pays enough to live on. Why bother finishing college?” But his lizard brain caught onto the idea of college, only not in the way Will had suggested. It latched and stayed put, but Taz wasn’t sure why.
“Good point,” Will said. “Everyone always talks about how important a college diploma is, but I bet there are thousands of graduates still flipping burgers and making milk shakes, because it’s the only job they can get.”
“True. Have you ever thought about college? Online courses?”
“No. I’d have to at least finish my GED first, and I honestly don’t care enough to study for it.” Will dragged his tongue across his lips in a way that was more thoughtful than seductive. “Honestly, after dinner tonight, I’m more interested in food.” He laughed. “Oh my God, my shrink would do backflips if he heard me say that.”
“Because of your past trouble with food?”
“Exactly. But that lasagna was so good.”
Bingo!
“Then let’s take a cooking class together,” Taz said. “There’s gotta be someplace around here that offers them. Local college, a community center, something. I bet it would a lot of fun.”
Will’s bright smile lit Taz up inside. “You’d do that for me? Hang out with a bunch of strangers so you can learn to cook?”
“Of course.” He’d do it for both of them. “You’d be doing the same thing. Facing a roomful of strangers.”
“I know, but I feel like it would be easier if you were there. And I might actually know a place.”
“Really?”
Will nodded. “I’ll make a call tomorrow.”
“Any hints?”
“Nope. It might be a dead end anyway. I’m not sure.” Will fiddled with his bottle, picking at the label. “So you know why I was in foster care. You said you went in when your grandmother died?”
“Yeah.” Gramma’s death had been heartbreaking for Taz. The woman had been his mother in every way except birth.
“Why did your grandmother end up raising you?”
Taz grunted, not eager to share that particular part of his past. The thing that had driven a wedge between him and his birth mother all those years ago. Some of it made a little bit more sense once he finally met Peter, but the whole thing had been a mess. Still, Will had been very generous with his sharing today. Taz could return the favor.
“My mother, Leta, was fifteen when I was born,” Taz said, telling the story in the order he knew it, so the whole crazy thing made more sense. “Still a kid herself. And she wouldn’t tell anyone who the father was, so she and my gramma decided that they’d raise me to think Leta was my sister. And that Gramma was my mother.”
Will’s entire body jerked. He stared at Taz with wide, startled eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” Gramma had been a kind, attentive mother, while his “sister,” Leta, was standoffish. As a kid, he’d assumed it was because he was a kid, a tagalong she didn’t want around. “It wasn’t until first grade that other kids started bullying me. I was a ginger who looked nothing like my family. And then some neighbor kids said that my sister was really my mom, and how gross that was, and it didn’t make any sense to me.
“I came home that day crying, and when I told Gramma what the kids said, she told me the truth. That Leta was not, in fact, my sister at all. She was my birth mother. I remember being so confused and upset. I didn’t understand why they’d lie, you know? And Leta wasn’t remorseful at all. She seemed more upset that the secret was out than because it upset me. It was the first time I remember starting to hate her.”
“I don’t blame you,” Will said. “I mean, I get she was young, but to lie like that?”
“Our relationship never recovered. And the bullying at school got worse, because of the rumors and everyone thought I was some kind of incest kid. Eventually, Gramma moved me and her to the other side of the city so I could change schools and start over. We left Leta with her current boyfriend, who’d already knocked her up.
“It was better, just me and Gramma, but I also started acting out at school. That’s when I got the Tasmanian Devil nickname that eventually turned into Taz. I only saw Leta a handful of times after that, usually at Christmas. I think it was mostly her way of showing off my half sister and her husband.” He grunted. “After Gramma died, Leta didn’t want me, and she refused to name my birth father, so I went into the system.”
“That sucks so much ass,” Will said. “We hit the mother lode with shitty parents, didn’t we?”
“Shitty moms, for sure.”
Will’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I forgot about Peter.”
“It’s okay.” Taz liked this part of his story, because it made his first six years on Earth more reasonable. Sort of. “Meeting Peter was, at the time, the best thing that had ever happened to me. I finally knew who my father was, and all the soap opera–level lying made more sense. See, Peter was twenty when he had sex with Leta, and Gramma hated him because he wasn’t Lebanese, so if Peter ha
d tried to be part of my life, Gramma would have turned him in for statutory rape.”
“Holy shit.” Will opened and closed his mouth several times. “I, uh, I don’t...” He’d paled a bit, and his fingers were shaking. “Oh God, not now.” He closed his eyes and took several long, cleansing breaths.
Taz leaned in and waited, concerned, and not completely sure why Will was fighting a panic attack.
You said “statutory rape,” you moron. What do you think happened to him?
His stomach soured. “Will, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Will blinked at him several times. “But he didn’t rape her, right? It was just the age difference.”
“No, he didn’t force her. Not that Leta or Gramma ever said, no matter all the legal definitions of things. But the age difference helped me understand why he’d abandoned me, you know? Peter told me he spent a lot of time imagining who I was, what kind of man I’d turn out to be. That everything he did was to make a son he didn’t know proud.”
Except for the whole going-to-jail-for-eight-years thing. A truth he still hadn’t shared with Will, despite all of their promises to always talk and be honest with each other. But Peter’s past seemed like such a small thing, compared to Taz and Will’s present.
“You’re lucky to have Peter,” Will said.
“I know. After the assault, I’d have been lost without him. Nowhere to go, no one to look out for me while I recovered. Peter was like a guardian angel come to life. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Hopefully, you’ll never have to find out.” Will flinched. “Um, except you kind of are finding that out, aren’t you?”
“In a way. It’s hard knowing Peter is three thousand miles away, but I also know I’m not alone.” Taz slid his arm across Will’s shoulders, enjoying the way Will nestled against his side. Warm and familiar. “I’m pretty sure that ours in a great example of good cosmic timing. I met you at exactly the right time in my life.”
“Same. Although I think I’ve got the better end of the deal with you. I’m a mess, and I might never not be.”
“If you weren’t a mess, then you wouldn’t be you.”
Will laughed, then pressed his nose into the side of Taz’s neck. “We are such a pair of hot messes, aren’t we?”
“Makes us kind of perfect for each other.” He could sit like that all night, with Will tucked in close, warm breath fanning over Taz’s throat, but—”I really do have an edible dessert for us. The restaurant’s website swore they sold the best cannoli in the city.”
“I’ve never had cannoli before. What is it?”
“How about I show you?”
Will resettled on the couch while Taz fetched the white pastry box from the fridge. He’d never had it before, either, but it basically looked like a flat, folded cookie stuffed with cream, sprinkled with chocolate chips. How could that not taste good? He’d ordered four, not realizing each one was nearly as big as his hand.
“Holy cow,” Will said after peering into the box. “I can smell the sugar from here.”
Taz put the box on the cushion between them, then gently picked one up. It was heavier than he expected. He held a chip-covered end out to Will. “Go ahead.”
Will leaned in and closed his lips around a big bite of cookie and cream. The sound he made was pure lust, and it shot straight to Taz’s dick. The cookie crunched, and Will chewed slowly, eyes half-lidded. A bit of the filling smeared his upper lip, and Taz nearly leaned over to lick it off. Will swallowed.
“Holy shit, that’s incredible,” Will said. “Whatever’s in the middle is...wow. Where has this been all my life?”
“A few miles away, apparently.”
Will stuck his tongue out at him. “Try it.”
Taz took a tentative bite out of the other end, getting a mouthful of crunchy cookie, firm chocolate chips and a thick, creamy center that pushed all of his buttons. He’d never believed in food as foreplay before, but hot damn, the cannoli was revving his engines. Watching Will take a second bite and practically make out with the sweet dessert sent a shiver of desire down Taz’s spine.
The sudden, unbidden image of smearing the filling all over Will’s body just so he could lick it up again sent Taz’s dick to fully erect so fast he got a little dizzy. Holy shit, but that had been the most erotic daydream of his adult life.
Will’s third bite was slower, and he licked a bit of cream off his upper lip before asking, “Too sweet?”
“Huh?” was as intelligent a response as Taz could muster.
“Is the cannoli too sweet?” His gaze dropped right to Taz’s lap. A slow smile curled his lips back from his teeth, and Will was all sass and fire when he met Taz’s eyes again. “Looks like someone really likes cannoli.”
“I like watching you eat cannoli.”
“Oh, yeah?” Will flicked his tongue out and swiped a bit of filling off the dessert with the tip. Oh so slowly, he drew his tongue back into his mouth and sucked on it.
“Guh.”
With the softest chuff of laughter, Will shoved the box to the floor, then climbed onto Taz’s lap, straddling him with a knee on either side of his hips. He rested his ass on Taz’s thighs. Tugged Taz’s hand, still holding the half-eaten cannoli, closer so Will could lick more cream out of the middle. Taz watched the path of Will’s mouth until he went cross-eyed from proximity. Then he closed his eyes and let Will thrust his tongue into Taz’s mouth.
An explosion of vanilla and chocolate and Will’s unique flavor shattered any higher thought Taz had left. He dropped the dessert to the floor, vaguely hoping it hit the box, and then twisted them both hard. He dumped Will onto his back on the couch, legs hitched up around Taz’s thighs, and kissed Will like he needed him to breathe.
And he kind of did. Nothing would be the same after this. Will had imprinted himself in his mind, his skin, his heart. There was no going back, no not falling in love. So he gave in, sucking on Will’s tongue, thrusting against Will’s erection with his own, hands in his hair. Engulfing the smaller man, but also aware of his reactions.
Taz never wanted to scare Will, or make him feel unsafe.
Will dragged his fingernails down Taz’s back, first over fabric, and then up below it to scrape skin. Taz arched into it, loving every touch, every spot their bare skin touched. He wanted more skin but didn’t want to stop kissing to make that happen. Except he needed to know. Taz released Will’s mouth, then panted, “You okay?”
“Fuck yes.” Will’s face and neck were flushed, and he hadn’t hesitated a second in his reply. “Please keep doing that.”
“The kissing?” He thrust his erection against Will’s and earned a harsh gasp. “Or that?”
“All of it. Fuck, you can touch me. Please, touch me.”
Taz didn’t need clarification on where Will wanted to be touched. All thoughts of slowing down fled when Will reached between them and started undoing his fly. Taz froze, entranced by the boldness, unable to do anything except study the handsome boy who was trusting Taz with his body. His too-thin frame, the flush on his skin, the rise and fall of his chest.
He didn’t realize his mistake until Will’s hand touched his cheek, all of Will’s earlier wickedness gone. “Shit, Taz? Are you having an episode?”
“No.” Taz shook himself a little. “Sorry, no.”
“Are you okay with this? I mean, I really, really want us to rub off together, but if that’s too much, too soon...we don’t have to.”
The incredible generosity of that statement made Taz’s heart ache in a good way. Will had been the one pressing to get physical, and now he was giving Taz an out. And Taz should have taken it. Except the cannoli and licking the cream, and Will fit so perfectly beneath him. He tried to look into the future, to see if he’d regret this tomorrow.
S
urvey says: not a chance.
“You’d really stop if I asked you to?” Taz said.
Will frowned, then made a very distinct show of looking Taz up and down. At Taz’s arms caging him in. Will was in the vulnerable position, and he seemed confused by Taz’s question. And then his frown smoothed out into understanding—Taz might be bigger and stronger, but Will wielded as much power in their relationship, and in their sex life, as Taz did. They were equals, and Taz was always going to treat him like one.
“Yes,” Will said, voice hoarse. “I’d stop.”
“Good.” Taz sat up long enough to yank his own shirt off and toss it away. Will’s expression shifted from disappointed to smoldering, so Taz helped him lose his shirt, too.
He didn’t think too hard about the next part, just got pants and underwear down and out of the way. Figured out how to hold his weight so he didn’t smother Will, and then their precome-slicked dicks were rubbing together, skin on skin, between their bellies.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” Will said. He hiked his legs higher around Taz’s hips, then hooked his ankles over his thighs, because he couldn’t quite wrap them all the way around.
Taz thrust against him a few times, finding a rhythm he liked, before wrapping his arms around Will’s upper body and kissing him. He devoured Will’s mouth, putting every emotion and sensation into it that he could. Driving them both higher, harder. He wanted to come so badly, but he never wanted this to end. This amazing connection, unlike anything he’d ever felt with a partner.
Will’s fingernails scraped up and down his back, and Taz didn’t give a shit if he left marks. Taz would wear them proudly. He wanted to suck a mark onto Will’s skin, to claim him, but that meant he had to stop kissing, and that wasn’t happening. Not while Will was bucking up against him, gasping and groaning his pleasure, writhing on the cusp of his orgasm. Will’s heels dug into Taz’s thighs, urging him.
Taz lost himself in a haze of sweat and sliding and kissing, lost in the trembling body beneath his that thrust up, harder and harder. Will made a sound like a scream, tensed, and their bodies slicked even more with Will’s release. Taz slowed down, still desperate to come, but not like this if Will was too tender after orgasm.