by BA Tortuga
“Gigi. That’s adorable. And that’s a lot of grandparents. I bet that was nice.”
“My granny and pappy were fun as hell. My dad’s folks are very religious, very stern. I see them very rarely.” Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time. Four years ago? Five? Daddy had a vast family, and Momma growled about them all, so he didn’t worry on it much. “What about you? Do you get to see your people?”
“I don’t really have people.” Calvin shrugged. “My dad’s a little out there, and my mom is… also pretty out there. I got tired of talking about the weather. Or maybe they did.”
“Makes sense.” It was sad, but it was what it was. No one made a person take a test before they became a parent.
Parents are just fuckups with babies, Tuck. Lord, it was like his granny was right here.
“It’s your turn, honey.”
“My turn… oh.” Calvin waved down the server and got the check.
“Okay. So… number one. That thing you do—rubbing your very sexy, manly, scratchy stubble down the length of my desperately needy erection does not drive me wild. At. All.” Calvin got hold of his eyes and kept them. “Number two, I definitely do not want you to fuck me tonight. Number three, sometimes when I look into your eyes, my heart pounds so hard it reverberates all the way down my spine, and I feel like you are seeing straight into my soul.”
The world went sharp and crystalline, just like a bell had rung and left nothing but Calvin behind. “You make things so clear.”
All he could hope was that Calvin heard him, what he meant.
“I… I know. I think that’s amazing.” Calvin tugged on Tucker’s fingers and flattened them across his chest. “See?”
He felt that heart pound but good, the sight of Calvin’s pulse matching it. “I want to take you home and love you until I can’t remember doing anything else, honey.”
“Yeah. Please.” Calvin let go of Tucker’s hand long enough to pull out his wallet, stuff some cash in with the bill, and grab his coat.
“I’ll buy the next one.” He stood, grabbed his coat, his cock so hard the pit of his belly tugged.
“Deal.” They were still bundling up as they left, Calvin wrestling with that big scarf as he held the door. “Fuck, it’s fucking cold.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t notice. He was burning up inside, balls to bones.
He thought he remembered there being crowds of people on the way to dinner—bright lights, a tall tower—maybe he dreamed all that, because he didn’t see any of it on the way back to his studio.
All he saw was Calvin, every time he glanced over, like a touchstone.
They stopped walking, and after a pause Calvin leaned into him. “Tucker. This is you, right? You have keys?”
“I do. Yes. Keys. Sorry, I was watching you move.” He dug in his pockets and got the door open. “Come on, honey, ’fore you freeze.”
“Watching me move.” Calvin shook his head. “You’re such an artist.”
Well, yeah. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but for this moment at least, the only work of art on his mind was Calvin.
“True story.” He bundled them up the stairs and then up into the studio. The scent was familiar—linseed and charcoal and home.
Calvin pulled off his scarf and moved into the center of the room, looking around.
He’d moved the table in front of the middle window so he could stand and watch. The canvases stood everywhere, thrown here and there like tossed playing cards as he finished them. The walls were covered in white paint and graphite, where he scribbled thoughts, random ideas. There were pockets of these—a demon peeking around the bathroom door, a hamburger with legs by the light switch, Calvin’s face near the bed to watch his dreams—but in a week, they would be everywhere.
Tucker heard Calvin sigh and watched him turn away from the bed, the scarf and his long black coat over one arm. “Where should I…? Over on the table, or is there a closet?”
“There’s a closet. You have good clothes. There’s paint everywhere.” Oh, maybe this wasn’t a good place for Calvin. Maybe this was unnerving, all the eyes. He’d heard that before. No one wanted to come to his house in Texas either. “Would you like me to take you to your place or a hotel? I can. I just want to be with you. The where doesn’t matter.”
“Stop. I don’t care about my clothes.” And as if to prove that point, Calvin just dropped his coat and scarf on the floor. “I want to be in your space. Kiss me.”
“I can do that.” He shrugged his coat off and left it behind him, wrapping around Calvin to take his kiss, knowing that doing so would burn him to the ground.
Calvin reached up and flicked the brim of his gimme cap, then with a soft laugh, lifted it off his head and tossed it away. Those familiar fingers with their strong knuckles slid up into his hair and pulled him down, their lips meeting and fitting together.
Oh, that was just what his soul needed. He leaned into the kiss, knowing that Calvin was more than strong enough to take what he offered. Calvin let him in, opening that sweet mouth and slipping a wet tongue over his.
Then Calvin tugged his shirt out of his jeans and slipped one of Tucker’s hands up underneath, over warm, smooth skin, and held it tightly to his chest.
I got you, honey. I swear, I won’t hurt your heart. He let his fingers move, tracing over that pounding, the steady beat making him smile. “Love touching you.”
He eased Calvin’s shirt the rest of the way off, smoothing the fabric away so he had more skin, more to touch.
The pale skin blushed under his fingers, and Calvin moaned softly against his lips. “I want you everywhere, Tucker. I want you inside me.”
He nodded, moving them closer to the bed with its rumpled sheets. “Anything.”
Tucker had had enough sense to go to the drugstore before he’d moved in. The lube was multipurpose, but the condoms were earmarked for Calvin and him together.
Calvin went after his shirt, popping the buttons open one by one. His lover pushed it off his shoulders, and a hot tongue found one nipple, circling it and teasing it until it was stiff and sensitive. “Need you.”
“Come to bed. Christ, you make my knees weak.” He sat on the end of the bed to open Calvin’s jeans, admire the tiny spot of wetness on those fancy-assed briefs. He kissed the spot, then sucked the tip of Calvin’s cock through the fabric, just because he could.
“Fuck, tiger.” Calvin braced a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and stepped on the heels of his sneakers to kick them off. The jeans and his high-tech skivvies went next. He slid them down and stepped out of them, leaving them where they fell.
Bending to take another kiss, Calvin pressed a hand into Tucker’s groin, grinding the heel of one hand over the bulge under his denim.
He couldn’t have stopped his arch, the way he pushed up into Calvin’s touch, if he’d tried. Tucker didn’t try real hard, to be honest. He found Calvin’s ass with both hands, digging in, massaging the taut muscles.
Calvin lowered his fly and slipped a hand inside, groping and rubbing him, making his jeans feel even tighter than they already did. “Where…?” Calvin’s voice was thin, already taking shallow breaths. “Do you have…? Might have something in my coat.”
“I bought some for us. Let me get my boots off and I’ll grab my ditty bag.” Well, that was where the rubbers were. The slick was in the shower.
“Okay, but hurry it up, cowboy.” Calvin climbed up on his bed.
He moaned and followed, his tongue sliding along the curve of Calvin’s tight ass before he forced himself to stand and shed boots and jeans.
“Waiting on you, Tucker,” Calvin sang to him. “Want to make a big fucking mess of this bed. Want to wake up all your fucking neighbors. Hurry it up or I’ll start without you.” Calvin’s fingers wrapped around that pretty cock.
“Listen to you!” He got himself naked and then grabbed a line of rubbers and the lube, leaped on the bed, and pounced on his lover. “You save that pretty prick for me.”
; Calvin squealed and stole the rubbers from him, tore one off the strip, and dropped the others. “Ooh. I like that tone.” Calvin’s fingers scritched through the curls on his chest. “So stern.”
“Stern, that’s me.” He bent in, kissing and licking at Calvin’s abs, tickling with his chin. If he was lucky, he could wet his fingers without making too much of an ass out of himself.
“Tickles!” Calvin wriggled under him, knees falling open and fingers diving into his hair. “Oh my God.”
He grinned and slid his cheek all along Calvin’s shaft, then slipped down to lap at the soft skin where cock and balls met.
Calvin arched, and the giggles were replaced with a gasp and the sharp hiss of air through his lover’s straight white teeth. “Fuck, Tucker. Do it again.”
“Mmm. My pleasure.” The flavor of Calvin right there was heady enough that his eyes crossed.
Calvin cried out, back bowing again—this time lifting all but the tiniest bit of his shoulders off the bed in a stunning arch.
After a couple of heated, heavy breaths, Calvin tore the foil wrapper with his teeth and held it out to him. “Please, baby.”
“Uh-huh.” Again, his pleasure. Tucker managed to get his fingers slick, used two to give Calvin pressure.
“Yes.” Calvin’s slim hips rolled against his slippery fingers, begging and impatient, taking in what he offered. “More. More, Tucker.”
“All of me,” he muttered, smoothing the condom on with trembling fingers. He’d feel like an awkward dipshit, except Calvin was watching him and nodding, drawing him closer.
“Everything. Every bit. Want you to make me scream, I want to hurt tomorrow.” Calvin was pulling on him, fingers scrabbling for anything in reach.
He grabbed ahold of Calvin’s hips, spreading Calvin with his thumbs as he pushed inside, driving with a single smooth stroke that liked to rip his good sense from him.
The reaction he might have expected from Calvin, a cry loud enough to shake the rafters and echo in the studio, was displaced by a low, satisfied grunt and a picture so much more visceral and beautiful.
Calvin’s brow furrowed, his mouth opened in a silent, wordless offering, and every muscle was taut and straining. Calvin’s collarbones stood out as if they were reaching for something themselves, and those green eyes were open but unfocused.
Tucker longed to know what his lover was seeing.
He gritted his teeth and set to moving, his body making promises that his soul backed up with interest. “I got you.”
Simple but true, and he proved it with every thrust, feasting on Calvin’s pleasure like it was the best fucking drug.
He sank deeper than ink on paper.
Calvin’s eyes found his and anchored there, narrowing hotly, breathing with him, until suddenly there was friction, and Tucker’s cock dragged against tight muscle as Calvin squeezed around him.
His hips jerked like electricity had shot through him, his grunt echoing in his chest.
It was just a moment, a long, disorienting moment before he was free again. “I’ve got you too, lover.” Calvin laughed darkly and his lips parted, looking for a kiss.
He balanced on one arm and grabbed Calvin up, adding his strength to the mix. They smashed their lips together, the buzz and drag enough to burn.
“Mmm.” Calvin’s legs wrapped around his hips, using the leverage to rock into his thrusts. “Fuck, it’s good, Tucker.”
“Better than.” He was thinking necessary, all the way, everything in him driving to send his lover over the edge.
Calvin nodded and hooked an arm around Tucker’s shoulders. “Better. Mo-more.” His eyes slid closed, and Tucker felt him shudder. “Oh God.”
“Yes.” His eyelids got heavy, and he kept everything right there, sure, steady, the music in his head driving him.
“Tucker!” Calvin pulled their foreheads together, panting hot air across his cheek. “You’re… right? Yeah. I’m… oh fuck. Fuck!” Calvin bucked up against him, going heavy in Tucker’s supporting arm, and shot across his belly.
Yeah. He was. Right. And fuck. And all the other words that were dissolving in the liquid fire that was his brain. He thrust in a few more times, losing the music at the end and just humping into the most perfect heat on earth before his balls gave it up, leaving him shaking and aching in the best way.
Calvin kissed him gently, slowly, leaving room for breathing and whispers and time for searching each other’s eyes. Tucker kept them joined until neither one of them could stand it another second. Calvin whimpered and shivered, and Tucker finally slipped away reluctantly.
When he returned, Calvin was sitting up on one elbow and extended an arm, beckoning him back to bed.
“Mmm. Yeah.” He sighed and snuggled in, pulling the heavy comforter around them. Calvin settled right against his chest.
“I have to figure out who I need to thank for sticking you, a Texan hotter than the surface of the sun, on a New York City staircase in the snow.” Calvin chuckled and drew a line with light fingers from Tucker’s shoulder to his hip.
“Marge. She wanted me to come for this opening, and I wanted to see the library.”
“She must be my guardian angel.” Calvin caught his earlobe between lip-covered teeth and then kissed his neck. “That was perfect, Tucker. You are perfect.”
“I’m so glad to see you, honey. I missed your face.” The other parts too, but the face was paramount.
“I wanted to text you, like every break I got. But I didn’t want to interrupt your work. And honestly, I’m… I’m not so sure I know where the boundaries are. It was weird being back in the real world.”
“We sure just found each other, didn’t we? I’ve never done this before, so we’ll have to work out the boundaries and shit together.” He thought that was doable.
“I’ve tried a few times. I’m not very good at it.” Calvin didn’t sound serious, but he didn’t sound so not-serious either. “I had the whole—well, I shouldn’t bug him but what if he thinks that means I’m not thinking about him and what if he’s not texting me for the same reason and why the hell didn’t we discuss this thing. I did the right thing not bugging you, right?”
“You bug me when you need to. I was going to text you, but I didn’t want to get you in trouble or interrupt your rest.” He grinned over, rubbed their noses together. “And if you interrupt the work, you have to expect the crazy that leaks out, that’s all.”
“I’m off for two days. I could hang out tomorrow so I know what kind of crazy I’m in for.” Calvin poked his nose.
“Mmm. I’d love that. I want to show you how the light looks at 5:00 p.m. from the table.”
“As soon as I can move, I’m going to look at what you’ve done so far. I was already admiring this weirdness.” Calvin pointed to the likeness of him on the wall by the bed. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
He looked at the sketch. “I was thinking about you. I love the curve of your jaw.”
“Thanks, but… now I’m looking at myself naked.” Calvin snorted. “I don’t think I like it. I’m not that kind of model. Don’t waste your time on sketching me. You have real work.”
“It’s not like that.” He drew what he drew, and Calvin rang in his soul. “It’s not ugly.”
Tucker had drawn Calvin as he was.
Calvin shrugged. “It’s too… close. I don’t like it.”
“Okay.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t expect that anyone would like his drawings or not. That way lay madness.
“Okay, good. So no more drawing me.” Calvin kissed his chest and settled against him again.
He didn’t answer. That would be a lie if he agreed. That was okay. He didn’t have to share his levels of fascination. He stroked Calvin’s back and looked out the window at the ghost lights bouncing along the glass.
“Michael sent my portfolio with the shots we took to Calvin Klein.”
“Yeah?” He knew that one, so it had to be big. “That’s exciting. Wh
at happens next?”
“He says they narrow it down to a few models, and then we come in and do an audition. Like a sample shoot. He says he’s so sure I’ll get the audition that he’s already cleared my calendar and saved the date.” Calvin rolled over and looked at him, green eyes lighting up. “It’s a centerfold spread and the cover… it’s a huge career boost.”
“Oh, wow. Is that here, or do you go somewhere neat?”
“I’d probably split my time between here and LA, but… oh. Well, I don’t know, I guess.” Calvin sighed.
“What, honey? You okay?” He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he could listen.
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just thinking too far ahead. You know, cart before the horse. Ahead of the game. Borrowing trouble. Jinxing myself. Oh—I should probably text Timmy, right?”
“If he’s fixin’ to worry, yes.” Poor baby. Someone was scared.
“We have an agreement. We always text if we’re not coming home.” Calvin slid out of bed and went for his coat. Tucker watched him as he passed through the angular light from the street and studied Calvin kneeling on the floor, his face lit up by his phone as he texted his roommate.
Lord, but that made his fingers itch for a pencil.
“That’s cool. Y’all take care of each other.”
“Sure. We both like clubs and bars and stuff. You just can’t be too careful.” Calvin turned on the flashlight on his phone and walked over to one of the paintings propped up against the wall. “He’s a good friend. He cares. Whoa.”
“You can turn the spotlights on, if you want.” The birds were flying there, filling the streets.
“Sure, and give people a show walking around naked in your studio.” But Calvin stood, found the lights, and turned them on, not actually caring who was looking, apparently. He moved on to one of the paintings on an easel. “What is it about birds?” Calvin sounded curious, interested.
“That’s what needed to be painted. They came to me here, on the street.”
“Right, the drawings in your little notebook you showed me on the subway. I remember now. So these are drafts. Like the series in your show? You do a zillion of these until you get… what? How do you know you’re done?”