by A. M. Arthur
“Holy shit,” Will gasped. “Wow.”
Taz dropped kisses all over his cheeks and chin. “You’re so beautiful when you come.”
“Shut up.” But he grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “I haven’t gotten off like that in...ha. Not ever. Sex with feelings involved is kind of awesome.”
Taz laughed, fighting the urge to thrust against the damp belly beneath him. To chase his own release and soon.
Will wiggled his hips, still grinning. “You didn’t come.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You haven’t.” Will traced a finger across Taz’s collarbone. “No one has ever been as careful with me as you.”
“You deserve care and tenderness and love, Will Madden. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” He kissed Will’s temple.
“Yes, sir.” Will’s questing hand slid between then, all the way down to grasp Taz’s shaft. He pumped a few times, coating Taz with his semen, slicking his grip. Then he held his fingers in a circle. “Fuck my hand, Taz.”
“Fuck, yes.”
Taz closed his eyes and couldn’t stop the mental image that followed—that the tight ring of fingers around his cock was Will’s ass. That he was fucking him with sure, steady strokes, claiming him in the most primal way possible. That when he finally erupted, he was coming inside Will instead of over his chest and fist. His entire body trembled as Will jerked him through it, only stopping when Taz began to settle his weight on top of him.
“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself when you come,” Will said.
Taz chuckled, somehow finding the strength to peel his eyelids apart. A drop of semen had landed on Will’s chin. He licked it off. It reminded him of his earlier fantasy of licking cannoli cream off Will’s body, but Taz was too fucking satisfied and exhausted to bother tonight. He’d be lucky to stumble his way into the bathroom to clean up.
“You’re all sticky.” Taz glanced at the clock near his desk. “Still plenty of time before curfew. You want to rinse off with me?”
Will’s eyes widened briefly. “Really?”
“Of course. Unless you’d rather shower alone.”
“No! I mean, as long as there’s room.”
Taz couldn’t stop his flinch. He started to raise up, probably smashing poor Will into the couch with his big, flabby—
“Hey, no, stop.” Will grabbed his shoulder and held him still. “I meant sometimes these old apartments have small tubs. There isn’t always room for two. Taz, I love that you’re soft in places. I’m all bones and sharp angles. We balance each other out.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, I do.” Will reached down and scraped his nails across Taz’s belly. “You’re not ugly, not any part of you.”
Taz pressed a slow kiss to Will’s forehead. “You make me believe you.”
“Good. It’s the truth. I’ve loved every single minute of tonight, even the couple of hard parts.”
“Me too. Come on.” Taz reluctantly stood on somewhat shaky legs, then pulled Will up to his feet. “I’ll scrub your back for you.”
Will waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you going to scrub any other parts of me?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”
“Can’t wait.”
Will hadn’t been entirely sure his legs would support him, not after the massive orgasm he’d had, thanks to Taz. Fortunately, Taz kept hold of his hand as they walked down the short hallway to the bathroom. Small, as he’d suspected, with mint-green tiles and a single-basin sink. But clean and tidy, and not a speck of mildew anywhere.
While Taz fiddled with the faucet, Will took the moment to really look at Taz, who was naked with him for the first time. Will’s earlier assessment wasn’t wrong. While Will was skinny, bony, and had a lot of sharp angles, Taz was wonderfully...not. The ghosts of past muscles still clung to his shoulders, biceps and even his legs. Auburn hair dusted his calves and thighs, and when he turned around, that same hair created a pretty nest around his soft dick. It crept up into a thin happy trail that stopped at his navel.
And his chest. Broad, with more curling red hair, and round, dusky nipples that Will really wanted to suck on. Taz had a few freckles on his shoulders that Will had never noticed before. All Taz needed was a full beard, and he’d be the perfect ginger bear.
“What?” Taz said.
“What what?” Will traced a finger through the smears of come on Taz’s chest, playing with the curls of hair. “I was admiring you, now that I’ve got you naked. It is weird that I kind of love how furry you are?”
Taz’s eyebrows arched. “Furry?”
“Fuzzy? Hairy? Whatever. I like it.” He looked down at his own pale, smooth body. He shaved once every few days, and he barely had any pubes. “I look like a child.”
“Hey.” Taz did that amazingly comforting thing of putting his hand around the back of Will’s neck. So warm and steady. “You look like a guy who had a tough childhood, and who’s working his ass off to do better. To be better, and not to let your past define you.”
“Good answer.” He pulled Taz down for a brief kiss. “Now I believe you said something about scrubbing my back?”
“Yes, I did.”
Sharing the shower with Taz was slightly challenging, since the tub was pretty narrow, but it was also an amazing experience. Will had never showered with a guy before, not even Guy. They’d always taken turns. But Taz was affectionate and attentive the entire time, following up his promise to scrub Will’s back with a soapy washcloth, swiping down over his ass enough times to start giving Will ideas he never followed through on.
Too much, too fast would only give Taz regrets.
Once Will was squeaky clean, he turned the cloth onto Taz, taking great joy in seeing just how sudsy he could make Taz’s chest hair. He created swirls and patterns, playing for so long that Taz started chuckling, and he didn’t stop until they were both rinsed off.
Another perfect moment.
So perfect that, as Will dried off with a big, fluffy towel, he couldn’t help but wonder when it would all come crashing down. He’d never been this happy in his life, and he didn’t want to lose it.
Taz wrapped a towel around his waist. “I’ll get your clothes.”
“Thanks.”
Will studied his reflection in the bathroom sink, desperate to see what Taz saw when he looked at him. All he saw was a kid with too-long hair, big eyes and no meat on his bones. Except that was all surface stuff. Taz saw past all of that, into the core of Will, and Taz liked that guy. The same way Will saw past Taz’s scars and saw the wonderful soul of the man he was falling hard for.
It didn’t matter that neither of them was perfect on the outside. They’d each found another soul to connect with in a way that probably came around once in a lifetime. Taz made Will happy, full stop, and he didn’t want to lose that.
When Taz returned with his clothes, Will yanked him into a hug. A full-bodied, hard hug that tried to tell Taz everything he couldn’t put into words. Taz’s arms held him tight, bare chest to bare chest.
“You okay?” Taz whispered.
“I’m perfect. I can honestly say I never thought I’d be this happy. Or content. God, I don’t want to leave.”
“I know.” Taz kissed his temple. “But I don’t want you to get in trouble at the house, and it’s a little too soon for you to move in.”
He’d said it in a joking tone, but it made Will look up, curious. “Would you want that, though? One day? Me to move in?”
“If that’s what you want. I can’t exactly move into your place.”
Will chuckled. “I don’t think you’d fit in my room. It’s a shoe box.”
“Or we could look for a different place together. This isn’t exactly the best building, and with t
wo of us paying rent, we could probably afford a better apartment.”
“That’s a nice idea.” Will didn’t have the capacity to imagine apartment hunting with Taz. He had no idea how to go about it, or even what he wanted in a place. “It’s also maybe too soon to think about. We’ve been seeing each other for less than a week.”
“Feels like so much longer, and I mean that in the absolute best way possible.”
“I get it. But tonight wasn’t too fast, right?”
“No, tonight was perfect.” Taz pulled back far enough to meet his eyes. “You don’t regret anything, do you?”
“Not a chance. I hate that I have to leave, but that’s probably also a good thing.” Will could hear his shrink warning him about too much, too soon. Not getting attached just because someone was showering him with affection and attention.
But Taz wasn’t Guy. Not even close.
“Yeah,” Taz said. “Going slow, being careful means less of a chance of royally fucking this up.”
“Agreed. I guess I should get dressed.”
“Okay.” Taz seemed to release him with great reluctance. Then he backed out of the bathroom, even being so gentlemanly as to shut the door.
Will looked in the mirror once more, surprised by the wide smile on his face. A genuinely content smile he’d never seen before. “I’m happy,” he told his reflection. For the first time in his life, he’d said those words, and he knew in his heart how true they were.
Chapter Thirteen
Returning to a somewhat normal routine after Sunday’s amazing date was a bit of a mind fuck for Will, but there were some amazing benefits. At the center on Monday, both Kerry and Sam commented on his good mood and high energy. He hated to think he was sullen and morose most days, but that was okay. He’d turned a corner, and people were noticing. Even the house residents were taking note, gently teasing him about getting laid.
Everyone except Donata. She kept her distance, but whatever. He didn’t like her much, anyway.
He and Taz had dinner at Taz’s place every night, and their dessert was a lot of making out on the couch. Sometimes Will brought sandwiches, sometimes Taz cooked simple meals with what he had in his kitchen. Nothing as mind-blowing as the takeout lasagna from Sunday, but food like that was a special treat.
Except more and more, Will entertained the idea of learning to cook better food. He started watching cooking shows whenever he got control of the TV. He used his laptop to surf recipe blogs and watch tutorials online. Whenever he wasn’t volunteering or with Taz, he was learning—because on Friday, he wanted to cook something for Taz. Something complex and special to thank Taz for, well, being himself.
At his weekly session with Dr. Taggert, Will told him everything. The fund-raiser on Saturday, dinner on Sunday, the sex they’d had, and how Taz made him feel. Dr. Taggert listened with familiar patience, and he actually seemed more interested in Will’s sudden fondness for food than in anything else.
It felt like progress to Will.
The only real dampener on Will’s week was the Friday afternoon phone call from Detective Morrell. He was at the center, but Sam didn’t mind if he needed to take important personal calls, so he answered with a sick feeling in his stomach. “Hello?”
“Mr. Madden, it’s Detective Morrell.”
Will almost snapped back with a tart No shit, but kept that to himself. “Yes, I know. What can I do for you?” It had been over a week since Will had seen Christopher at Daffy’s, and he hadn’t heard a peep from the police. “Did you find him?”
“No, we haven’t. We did manage to get a last name and an address, but when we searched his residence, all signs pointed toward him leaving town in a hurry. Clothes seemed to be missing, toiletries as well. Some food had been left to rot on the counter and in the refrigerator.”
“Can you find out where he went?”
“We’re working on it. The man had no car registered, and we’ve already contacted nearby bus stations, airlines and the like. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”
Me too, believe me.
“I appreciate you letting me know, Detective. Um, are you able to tell me his last name?”
“It’s all over our bulletins, so it’s not a secret. Christopher Mayes.”
The name sent ice down Will’s spine. But now he knew. His demon had a full name. “Thank you.”
“We aren’t finished exhausting all of our leads yet. I’ll let you know if there are any developments.”
“Thank you again, Detective.”
“You’re welcome, son.”
Will ended the call, then slumped into the chair at Kerry’s desk. She was in a meeting with Sam and Malcolm Reeves and a few other people about food programs, and that had reminded Will about his promise to Taz to find a cooking class for them. He’d forgotten all week until the meeting with Malcolm had jolted his memory.
But now his stomach hurt, his lungs were starting to seize up, and he really didn’t need to have a panic attack. He hadn’t had one all fucking week, and he was not going to lose his shit over Christopher Mayes. No fucking way. The guy had apparently skipped town, which meant he wasn’t a threat to Will. As much as Will would have loved to see the asshole behind bars, he could go rot in some sleazy motel and live the rest of his life on the run.
I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees the somebody I’d like to see. God bless the moon and God bless me. God bless the somebody I’d like to see.
Will didn’t find as much comfort or centering in the nursery rhyme as he used to. Maybe because the moon wasn’t the only thing that saw the Will he wanted to be. Taz saw him. And Will was starting to see him, too, a little more at a time, each and every day. Will was becoming the person he always should have been. Still wrinkled around the edges, like that piece of paper he’d once hurled across Dr. Taggert’s office.
But still functional, too. Still lovable and deserving of life and joy.
His heart rate slowed, and he took a few calming breaths. The anxiety drifted away on a cloud of self-acceptance he’d never imagined possible a few weeks ago. There would always be awful things in the world, awful people wishing to do him harm. But there were good people, amazing people who wanted to help. To encourage. To see him and others succeed. He’d never really understood that until now.
He laughed at himself, though, because epiphany or not, his anxiety was still there, lurking deep down. PTSD didn’t get better overnight. He had a long road ahead of him, but it didn’t seem so dangerous or filled with expected violence as it always had.
I can overcome this.
I will overcome this.
“Will?”
He snapped his head up at the sound of Kerry’s voice. “What?”
“You okay? You look kind of, I don’t know, stunned?” Only a few inches taller than him, Kerry still had a rounded figure from her recent pregnancy, and she was staring at him like she’d never seen him before. She had been a compassionate person before, but motherhood had put all of those henning instincts on high alert.
“Personal epiphany,” he replied. “I’m okay, I promise.”
“Okay, good, because I need my desk.”
Will stood with a small chuff of laughter. The meeting was letting out, so he stuck to the wall behind the desk while half a dozen faces—some familiar, some not—filed through the outer office to the door. The last person to leave, though, was the one Will needed to talk to.
“Mr. Reeves?” Will said. It sounded odd to address him so formally, because Malcolm Reeves was in his early twenties. Probably Taz’s age. But he was also a former celebrity chef who’d been on TV from a young age and who’d come home to Wilmington in order to educate people on food and nutrition. Things that, at nineteen, Will barely knew about.
“Yes?” Reeves turned in a neat pivot, ch
arming smile in place. “Oh, hi. Will, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Will had met him briefly last week during the fund-raiser setup. The man was talkative and nosy, so much so that Will had fled his presence to fight off a panic attack. He hadn’t wanted to talk about himself to a stranger, especially not after one of the girl volunteers was bragging all about college and being a therapist and having her life together, while Will had been hanging onto the edges of his by his fingernails.
Today, he was much more put together and ready to speak to Reeves.
“What can I do for you, Will?” Reeves asked.
Kerry didn’t seem to be listening in, but none of this was super private anyway, so Will went for it. “I was wondering if you knew of any cooking classes for adults? Novice adults, especially, and maybe small classes? My boyfriend and I are both extremely introverted, and he’s borderline agoraphobic, but doing this is something we both want to try as an activity...and I feel like I’m rambling.”
“You aren’t rambling.” Reeves smiled, showing off TV-perfect teeth. “In fact, I appreciate the input. I thought I’d offended you last weekend when you ran out of my kitchen.”
“You didn’t. I don’t like talking about myself. My past is...complicated.”
“It’s all right, I know from complicated. And to answer your question, yes, I may have a solution for you. One of the programs I was discussing with Sam today is meant to be for the adults in our community who don’t understand nutrition or how to create a balanced meal on a meager budget. By educating the adults and enabling them to make better decisions about food, they can pass those good habits on to their children. Eating habits are learned, after all.”
“Or we make it up as we go along.”
Reeves gave him a once-over, not the cruising kind of look, but more of a “this kid needs a high-fat sandwich or ten, stat” look. “Listen, once I have the details of the class sorted out, I’ll make sure you get first crack at signing up. How’s that sound?”