Art of Love (Valley Boys Book 1)

by Vicki Tharp

  Watching Demetri jack off while watching him do the same immediately threw Roman over the edge. “Fuck,” Roman gritted out as his orgasm crashed through his system, his heart racing laps in his chest.

  “Jesus.” The word coming out strangled, as Demetri threw back his head and came all over his bare chest. When he finished, he laughed as he came back to himself.

  Roman smiled. “I’ve never had that much fun jacking off before. I highly recommend. Five stars.”

  Demetri grabbed his T-shirt off the floor and mopped up the mess on his torso before crawling across the bed and cleaning up Roman, too.

  “Do me favor.” Demetri leaned over and pressed a kiss to Roman’s lips.

  “What’s that?”

  “Stay here with me today. I already emailed my students and canceled my classes.”

  “You can do that?”

  Demetri shrugged and sat back on his haunches. “I just did.”

  20

  It was afternoon, and Demetri still had his blinds drawn because he and Roman hadn’t bothered getting dressed. Usually, he loved the way the afternoon light came into his den. He had his easel set up there in the extra space behind the couch.

  It surprised him to find that the filtered light coming through the shades was equally as interesting. Earlier, he’d turned the couch around to catch the best of the light and picked up his sketchpad after Roman had fallen asleep on the couch. The lazy morning had given them both the time to relax and recharge.

  At least on Demetri’s end. The stress of being apart and the worry about when he should disclose, as well as the total mindfuck of knowing how much he’d hurt Roman, had left him emotionally battered. Having a few precious hours to reconnect and breathe while cocooned in his house was a gift.

  And being able to tap back into his creative energy now that things had settled somewhat gave him the charge that he needed. As he sketched the outline of Roman’s prone form, his mind wandered back to the drunk video he’d posted. He hadn’t expected it to resonate with so many people. He’d only hoped to reach one man.

  In the back of his head, he had a niggling thought. Roman hadn’t told him he loved him. Demetri hadn’t expected him to say that right away. Demetri knew despite Roman’s forgiveness, he still had a lot to make up for.

  But some kind of affirmation that Roman had strong feelings for him would go a long way to setting his mind at ease.

  Don’t push. Don’t cling. Give him the space to come to you when and if his feelings match yours. You’ve got all the time in the world.

  Or until Roman graduates at the end of the fall semester.

  What if he got a job offer out of the valley?

  What if all the time they had left was a couple of months?

  Stop. Breathe. Paint.

  His phone dinged, and he glanced at the notification. Overall, the DMs he’d received about the video had been amazing and uplifting. There were always a few trolls, but he blocked them and moved on with his life. He didn’t need that kind of negativity swirling around him.

  But this DM was different. He clicked to expand it. And holy cow... It was from the producers at TBSX. They wanted him to be part of a documentary they were doing about living with HIV.

  “Why are you grinning?” Roman’s voice rolled out of him, the edges rough with sleep.

  He told Roman about the documentary.

  Roman hugged the pillow he’d had behind his head to his chest. “You going to do it?”

  “I don’t know yet. I think I’m interested, though. The more we can break down stereotypes and stigmas, the better off everyone will be. And maybe if I’m not hammered, my thoughts will be a little more coherent.”

  “You think?” Roman stood and stretched. He went over and gave Demetri a quick kiss. “The rawness helped get your point across, and your vulnerability and sweet nature shined through. I think that’s what people are connecting with. A real person who made real mistakes. Not some buffed and polished Hollywood version of yourself.”

  Demetri took Roman’s hand, guided him onto his lap, and wrapped his arm around Roman’s waist. “I’m glad the video’s helping people. I’m glad it’s opening up the conversation about HIV, but most of all, I’m glad it brought you back to me.”

  “Me, too.”

  Roman’s stomach growled. Demetri’s pantry was empty of anything that resembled real food. They’d been lucky he’d had enough mold-less bread to make toast that morning when they’d finally come up for air and climbed out of bed.

  “I’ve been a bad boyfriend,” Demetri said. “Demanding all the sex but not feeding you properly. Get dressed, and I’ll take you to a very late lunch or an early dinner.” The way he’d wanted to from the start but concerns about his job prevented him from doing so.

  “Boyfriend.” Roman grinned. He had the warmest smile. “I like the sound of that.”

  “It’s got a good ring to it.”

  “But if we go out, I’ll have to get dressed. And you would have to get dressed. And I wouldn’t be able to sit on your lap naked and do this.” Roman grazed his thumb across the tip of Demetri dick. His thumb came away slick, and he brought it to his mouth and sucked it dry.

  As much as it pained him, when Roman went back for more, Demetri laid his hand over Roman’s and stopped him. “You keep doing that, and we’re both likely to die of starvation.”

  Roman cut him a smile as he stood. “But what a way to go, right?”

  Demetri laughed and swatted his ass. “I can order in Chinese. There’s this great place up the road that delivers.”

  “Chinese sounds amazing.” Roman picked up the sketchpad. “May I?”

  Demetri found his phone. He didn’t know why he hadn’t wanted Roman to see his drawing earlier. Maybe it had felt too vulnerable for Roman to see the way that Demetri saw him, but the drawings also spoke in a way his words never could.

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll call in the order. What do you want?”

  “I’ll eat anything.”

  “A little bit of everything it is.”

  Demetri pulled out the menu from his menu drawer and dialed the restaurant. As hungry as he was, there wasn’t a single item on the menu that didn’t make his mouth water. When he finished, he hung up and glanced over at Roman, who’d confiscated the chair Demetri had abandoned.

  He watched the play of emotions run across Roman’s face as he flipped from page to page, turning the pad this way and that. Roman must have felt Demetri’s eyes on him because he glanced up.

  “What do you think?” Demetri asked.

  “That your talents are wasted teaching at the college. These should be hanging in a gallery somewhere or auctioned off to the highest bidder.”

  “They’re quick sketches. A moment in time. Nothing more.”

  Roman walked over, sketchpad in hand, and Demetri couldn’t take his eyes off him or the way the light splashed and highlighted all the most interesting parts.

  He laid the drawings on the table in front of Demetri. “I love this page the best.”

  On the paper was a compilation of drawings. Closeups of Roman’s body. His feet. The curve of his calf. His ribcage with his arm thrown over his head. The muscularity of his ass. His soft junk.

  “You wouldn’t think that you could feel the emotion in such a small study of the body, but I can see the way you look at me, almost with reverence and...”

  “Love,” Demetri filled in for him.

  “Is that what that is?”

  Demetri put a hand around Roman’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He wanted more. To take it deeper.

  Their food would be there soon, and he still didn’t have any clothes on. And another shower was probably in order. “Why do I get the impression that makes you uncomfortable?”

  A declaration of love shouldn’t freak someone out, but Roman would be lying if he said he wasn’t low-key freaking.

  “I don’t know,” Roman said.

  “Is it unwelcome?” Demetri’s smile sli
pped, and Roman hated to see the wattage of his smile dimmed.

  “No. It’s not that. It feels...” Roman sifted through adjectives in his mind until he found the closest one that fit. “...undeserving.”

  Demetri opened his mouth to say something, but his phone chimed. He held up a finger and checked it. “That’s the restaurant. The food is out for delivery. Hold that thought. I need to pop into the shower and throw on some shorts. Then I want to unpack that. Yeah?”

  “Yeah. No. Shower. And forget it, I—” Roman cut himself off. He couldn’t even get a thought straight in his head, so he had little way of effectively communicating what he was trying to say. “Forget it.”

  Demetri kissed him on the cheek as he hurried on his way to the shower. “I’m not forgetting it.”

  Roman threw on his shorts, and not long after, Demetri emerged from the shower dressed in a pair of navy athletic shorts that hugged his ass and almost made Roman strip him bare again. But the doorbell rang, and Roman’s stomach grumbled again. He needed food if he wanted to have the energy to do all the things to Demetri that he still wanted to do.

  You know you don’t have to do everything today, right? It’s not like you’re never going to see him again.

  As much as his head agreed, the feeling that they were on borrowed time sat heavy in his gut and refused to leave.

  They sat down to eat, too hungry to talk. The quiet gave Roman time to get his mind straight. He knew what his father had done had left him with scars and insecurities. He’d have to learn to deal with them if he had any hopes of making his relationship with Demetri work.

  Roman ate until his stomach hurt, and he couldn’t eat another bite. Demetri pushed his plate away around the same time. They probably hadn’t eaten half of what Demetri had ordered, but at least they had plenty of leftovers for later.

  Demetri went to the fridge. “Want another beer?”

  “Are we still going to talk, or are you going to let it drop?”

  “I’m not letting it drop.”

  “Then, yeah, I’ll need another beer.”

  Demetri chuckled. “Understood.”

  He popped the tops on the beer and handed one to Roman as he reclaimed his seat across from him. Roman couldn’t keep his eyes off the play of Demetri’s throat as he swallowed or the short-cropped hair on his chest. Maybe he should make Demetri put a shirt on before they started.

  “You gotta stop looking at me like that,” Demetri said as he set his beer down. “I don’t have that kind of willpower.”

  “Hang on a minute.” Roman disappeared into Demetri’s bedroom, the faint smell of musk and sex still hung in the air, and it took everything in him not to strip and walk out of the room naked. But while the sex had been mind-blowing, he knew there was more to relationships than that.

  He returned to the kitchen and tossed Demetri a shirt. “Put that on.”

  Demetri slipped the shirt over his head, then took Roman’s hand and led him to the couch, taking the corner seat and settling Roman against his side. Demetri’s put his arm around Roman’s shoulders, drawing him even closer.

  “I know this issue is on me,” Roman said, “I just need to get over my shit and—”

  “You can’t help the way you feel. And if you don’t want me to say I love you, I can stop. For now. Or keep saying it until you believe it. What your father did, what I did, was shitty. And I’m sorry. But I didn’t set out to hurt you. In a warped way, it was because I cared so much that I couldn’t bring myself to be honest. Fucked up. I know. That’s on me. It’s not because you are undeserving of the truth or love. You get me?”

  Roman nodded. Demetri’s words weren’t new. He’d said them before, but in the repeating, they hit home in a way they hadn’t hit before. Maybe there was something to the repetition that made Demetri’s words more believable.

  Roman blew out a shaky breath, his voice cracking. “Don’t stop.”

  “What don’t you want me to stop, Roman?”

  Roman shook his head, a soft chuff of a laugh escaping. “You’re going to make me say it aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  Roman shifted so he could see Demetri’s face. “Don’t stop telling me you love me. I think it’s something I need to hear.”

  “Then I won’t stop.”

  Roman leaned in and kissed him, and because he couldn’t say those words back to Demetri, he poured his heart into the tenderest of kisses, hoping Demetri could feel the love blooming in his heart.

  At least that’s what he thought that weird fluttery feeling in his chest was. He’d never been in love before. Never felt for another man what he felt for Demetri. But did that automatically make it love?

  When he finally broke the kiss, he said, “Thank you for loving me the way you do. I wish I could—” It’s three fucking words. What is wrong with you? Why can’t you say them? “I wish—”

  Demetri squeezed his hand. “Take your time. I’m not leaving. And I’m not falling out of love with you. One of these days, you’ll realize that’s true.”

  Roman’s phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it and laid himself out on the couch, his head in Demetri’s lap. Demetri’s hand went to Roman’s side and traced lazy circles on Roman’s ribs. When the reminder buzz went off, he remembered he had an important document he’d been waiting on. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  Roman rolled onto his back and read the email from Student Health on campus. His STI screening results were in.

  “What is it?” Demetri asked.

  Roman held up his phone. It took Demetri a second before he realized what he was looking at. “You’re negative across the board. That’s good news.”

  “Do you know what this means?”

  “That you don’t have any STIs?” By the tone of Demetri’s voice, it was clear he thought he was missing a vital detail.

  “It means I can get on PrEP. I know you’re untransmittable and studies show that—”

  “That couples in serodiscordant relationships can have sex without condoms without any issues as long as the positive partner’s viral loads remain undetectable. I’ve read all the studies.”

  “I’ve always used condoms before. But I don’t want to use condoms with you. But even knowing what I know and what the studies show, I’d rather be on PrEP before we do.”

  “Babe, I’ll take you any way I can have you. With condoms, without condoms. With PrEP or without. I want you safe, and any steps we can take to make sure what happened to me never happens to you, I’m all for it.”

  They lapsed into silence for a while. He hadn’t expected Demetri’s reaction to be anything other than positive, but it was still good to hear it.

  “Wait,” Demetri said.

  “What?”

  “If you got the results today, that means you got tested yesterday. Before you came over and we got back together.”

  Roman grinned. “You should have seen the line. I’ve never seen it so crazy at the student health clinic, but I waited. And I may have been overly optimistic about how our talk would go, but the reality was, I wanted you back, and you saying no hadn’t been an option.”

  Demetri shut down the computer at five o’clock on Friday afternoon. His official office hours had ended, and he had plans with Roman as soon as Roman finished his test.

  A knock came at Demetri’s door. It was closed, so he considered not answering and pretending he’d already left, but he didn’t want to leave a student hanging if they needed something before the weekend hit.

  He came around his desk and opened the door. “Oh, hey, Dean Pittman.” Demetri held open the door and stepped back. “What can I do for you?”

  Pittman motioned to the chair behind the desk. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  Fuckity-fuck-fuck.

  Having the dean of the department come knocking on your office on a Friday afternoon with an enigmatic expression on their face didn’t bode well. Or maybe it did. Pittman had never been an easy man to read. />
  Demetri reclaimed his seat, an open, inquisitive smile stitched into place. He waited while Pittman took the chair opposite him while stinging hornets performed Cirque du Soleil quality backflips in his belly. Is this how Chadwick had felt before Pittman had run his ass off campus for having an affair?

  Was Demetri in trouble? Technically, Roman wasn’t his student anymore, but...

  “I saw the video.”

  Demetri nodded. There could only be one video important to their conversation. “If I could explain—”

  “It’s self-explanatory, don’t you think?” Pittman raised one of his bushy brows.

  “I suppose.”

  “First, I want to apologize,” Pittman said, “that you didn’t feel you could trust that the department would have your back concerning your diagnosis. As dean, I want to address any issues that make my professors uneasy.”

  Demetri blinked dumbly. He heard Pittman’s words, but they were not words he’d ever expected to hear coming out of the man’s mouth. He was still positive the dean didn’t like him.

  “My status is personal. It’s not something I tell everyone.”

  Pittman gave him a look. “It’s not so private now.”

  Demetri laughed, and those hornets settled into an agitated buzz in his belly. Maybe he wasn’t getting fired after all. “No, sir. I guess it isn’t.”

  “I spoke with President Arcevedo. Your video has given the college good press, and by what the director of Student Health has told him, the numbers of students, gay and straight, getting STI screening is way up. That’s a good thing you did, even if you were drunk videoing.”

  “I’m glad some good came of it. And I appreciate your support.”

  Pittman stood to leave. Was that it? Demetri stood as well, walking him to the door on wobbly knees. At the door, Pittman turned back and said. “I heard a rumor that the man you were talking about in the video is a student?”

  Demetri had to fight the audible gulp. “Not since add/drop and—”

  He was about to go into how they weren’t exactly seeing each other back then, or were actively trying not to, but he didn’t quite know how to word it without getting himself into any more trouble. Pittman raised his hand to stop him from speaking.