by BA Tortuga
“It’s neat. I like to watch you. You like Granny’s kitchen?” He found a seat by the pass-through, just watching.
“I do. It’s comfy. Everything is in easy reach. And it has a good energy. Or maybe I’m still coming down off that high you had me on earlier, not sure.” Calvin started cleaning some of the veggies, puttering and humming again.
“You tell me if you want me to do things.” A high. That made him feel like some sex god. Seriously. He’d loved making Calvin high, making him fly.
“Why don’t you scramble up your eggs? Also, you should tell me what you like in them. I’m kind of adding the kitchen sink here.”
“I’m easy, honey. I like food.” He went to grab himself a bowl, choosing a clear one. That way he could see any stray eggshells. While he did that, Calvin started chopping up veggies, using the knife like someone who actually ate once in a while. “Look at you. You’re good at that. Did you take classes?”
He liked the idea of classes. He liked the idea way more than the reality.
“No. I learned from my mother. She’s insane, but she’s a good cook.” He watched Calvin separate the yolks from the whites of the eggs using the shells, and scramble them. “I don’t guess you have a set of free weights, do you?”
“Uh-huh. They’re in one of the rooms from when I was a teenager. I was sad that I was skinny. Now I don’t think about it.”
Calvin grinned at him. “You don’t eat well when you’re working. But I don’t have any complaints. Frying pans are…? Oh, in here probably, right?”
“There’s cast iron and plain old, both.” He watched to see which one Calvin chose.
“Ooh. Hmm.” Calvin took both out and set the cast iron on the stove with the heat low. “Yours I’ll do the yummy way. I can’t have the butter. You want to put in some toast for yourself?”
“Nah. I’m okay.” Although toast sounded pretty good, now that Calvin mentioned it. “Do you want a piece? Should I have bought margarine? There’s olive oil and that coconut goo.”
“Olive oil will work for the veggies. Thanks.” He pulled the oil out for Calvin and set it on the counter. “You want to watch a movie tonight?”
Calvin let the pan heat a bit and sautéed the veggies, then moved half into the regular pan before adding butter and scrambling up his eggs.
“Sure. I’m open.” He hadn’t had someone to do things with in… ever, really. Not out here.
“Grab a plate, cowboy. Your eggs are up.”
He grabbed one for each of them. Calvin scooped his eggs out of the pan without anything sticking, which would have made Granny proud. Then Calvin started scrambling the egg whites.
“So what do you watch in that bed in the media room? What’s your favorite movie?”
“Pan’s Labyrinth. But I like lots of different movies. I love Practical Magic and Dead Again, The Matrix, The Mummy.”
“I remember when that came out, I never saw it. Love The Matrix movies, though, and Practical Magic is up there in my top ten.” Calvin served up his own eggs and shooed him over to the kitchen table to sit. “You’ll laugh at me, but my favorite movie? WALL-E.” Calvin sat in one of his kitchen chairs with a plop.
“Eva!” Tucker laughed, bumped their shoulders together. “I love cartoons. Would you like a glass of anything? I want milk.”
Calvin giggled. “I do too. Just water, thank you. Also up there are Beauty and the Beast and The Princess Bride. I’m not a very deep movie watcher. I like to be entertained and not have to think too hard.”
“I like pretty movies. Visually. And the music. I like good scores.” He poured himself a big glass of milk. “And I love pretty actors. The 13th Warrior is a lot of eye candy.”
“Pretty actors are never a bad thing,” Calvin said, chewing. “If you had to pick one for tonight, what would we watch? Would it be the same thing whether I was here or not?”
“We should watch Practical Magic, and I would go sleep in the pool if you weren’t here, most likely.”
“Practical Magic is perfect. And you can pretty much bet I’ll never sleep in the pool, tiger. I’m a little worried about even getting in. Are your eggs okay?”
“My eggs are perfect, and you never know. I can get you a giant floatie shaped like a Longhorn that we can both fit on.” There wasn’t a pool of water that worried him.
“Haha. No, thanks. Unless it comes with a seat belt. God, I’m stuffed.” Calvin pushed back from the table.
“A seat belt? That would be dangerous, I’d think. You ought to learn the basics, honey, just for safety, if not for fun.” He didn’t know anyone that couldn’t swim.
Calvin nodded. “I’m gonna let you teach me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous. I’d like it to be fun eventually.”
“That’s fair.” He had faith. There was nothing worrisome in his pool, and there was a lovely hot tub that was heaven in the winter.
The table got quiet for a bit, and when he looked up from his food again, Calvin was just smiling at him, watching.
“Everything okay, honey?” He smiled right back. Christ, he could watch Calvin forever.
“Never been better. You’re just so handsome.” Calvin’s eyes twinkled at him. “Two lies and one truth?”
“Mmm… Is there anything you don’t know about me?” He thought about it. “You’re the first person I ever made love with. I was in love with a guy in college who has eight kids now. I work SXSW every year.”
Calvin laughed. “What the hell would you do at SXSW? I already know I was your first, tiger. You told me… our first time. You sure didn’t act like a first-timer, though.”
“I did? Lord, I have swiss cheese memory right now. I just wanted to make you not sorry you’d brought me home.”
“The way you looked at me on the subway platform, there was no way I was ever going to be sorry. I swear you could have heard my heart beating four blocks away. Talk about first times—no one’s ever done that to me. I was worried you’d think I was a total slut for the way I went after you when I’d only known you a few hours.” Calvin was still smiling, looking relaxed and easy. “That was love at first sight, you know. I mean, I didn’t get it then, but it didn’t take long.”
“It wouldn’t be a story if it didn’t happen to people in real life.” He knew that. The things that were too big, too wild, too much? That was a rare truth.
“That’s right. I’ve always believed it was possible. I just didn’t believe it could happen for me.” Calvin shrugged one shoulder. “I’m telling you, I believe anything can happen now.”
“Good.” Should he ask about the whole losing the job thing and why it was so big? Was it time?
Nah.
They were happy right now. Calvin would tell him when he was ready.
“Dishes?” Calvin hopped up, kissed his cheek, and took his plate.
“Sure. The dishwasher works.” He watched for a second, then stood to help. He didn’t want Calvin to think he was lazy. He was just… addicted to the sight of his lover.
“You want to do the skillet the way you like?”
“Yeah. You can’t use soap. It’s a thing.” He washed it in blistering hot water, then popped it on the top of the stove to dry on the burner.
“I know, tiger. My mom loves her cast iron. But some people use oil after it’s dry and some don’t and all that.”
Calvin loaded the dishwasher. “So what do you do with this coconut goo?”
“I haven’t the foggiest. The Whole Foods people said it was super healthy and shit.”
“Huh. Well, I can google it. Do you like coconut?” Calvin walked over and picked up his phone, then put it right back down. “Later. Forgot I turned it off. Movie?”
“I like it just fine, yeah. I like coconut water a whole lot.” He led Calvin through the house to the movie room with its huge bed and screen.
Calvin laughed, diving onto the bed. “I might remember that route. It’s the route from here to the bedroom that’s gonna challenge me.”
> “We can leave colored string,” he teased, and handed Calvin the remote. “The movies are in a big hard drive. You can just search.”
“Colored string.” Calvin snorted at him and then looked at the remote. “Uh. This is a fancy one, huh?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t have much to spend his money on, so he bought toys.
“Hmm.”
Tucker shook his head as Calvin started pushing buttons. The TV turned on, off and back on again, and different screens flashed by, none of which were what they were looking for.
“Maybe you sh—” The volume got so loud he couldn’t hear whatever Calvin said after that.
He started laughing, turning down the volume before finding the listing of movies, Practical Magic right on top.
“Show-off.” Calvin plucked the remote from his fingers and stretched out facedown on the bed to watch.
“Practiced.” Tucker settled with his cheek on Calvin’s ass.
“Okay, I think I got this.” The movie started playing, so apparently Calvin was right. “Woo!”
“There you go.” He was doing this. He was lying with his lover, naked, in his house, watching a movie. This was real.
“I love the look on her face in this first scene. Like, okay, I could save myself but they already hate me so then what? Or, I could just die. And then, nah, I’m totally saving myself.”
Oh. Wow. He wasn’t used to having someone to talk about the movie with. He rubbed Calvin’s back and grinned. This was going to be fun.
Chapter Twenty-Three
EVERY SO often it got really hot in New York. Like, kids opening fire hydrants and can’t breathe on the subway hot. Even rolling blackouts hot. Sleeping on the fire escape hot.
But it never, ever got this kind of hot.
Calvin was making his third trip back to the barn from the house, and it felt like the sun was trying to shrivel him up. And Tucker said it got worse in July. Good God.
He made it into the air-conditioning and closed the huge barn door behind him like he’d been running from a serial killer or a rabid dog.
He’d been hanging paintings. He wanted the entire series of six paintings that Tucker had done the other morning to go inside. He loved them, partly because they were hopeful and breathed with a different kind of air than he was used to from his lover, but also because of what they reminded him of—that amazing night that Tucker had given him, without wanting or asking anything in return.
He’d lost track of Tucker during one of his trips and wasn’t sure where his happy little artist was right now. Tucker might have gone back to the house or maybe out to the pool or something. Who knew? He couldn’t go too far.
He heard whistling from close by, Tucker’s happiness like a real, physical thing. Okay, where was his artist? Up in the loft?
He was thirsty, so he grabbed a bottle of water, stuck it in the waistband of his shorts, and climbed up the ladder to see.
Tucker was stripping the bed, stark naked, wiggling his butt and just dancing around.
Calvin sat on the top of the ladder and opened his water. “Hey, tiger. Keeping busy?”
“The sheets are fixin’ to get up and walk themselves to the washer.” God, that smile. It lit up the whole loft.
“Yeah, I hear that. They’re getting a little colorful too.” He finished off his water that quickly. “I’ve been busy. I’ve hung three of your new paintings in the house. I’m going to hang the other three next.”
“Do you need help carrying? I’m heading toward the house. It’s warm today.”
“That would be great. You have enough hands with the laundry?” He climbed back down the ladder so Tucker could come down too. “It’s not warm, baby. It’s hot. Like fry your eyeballs hot.”
“You don’t know from hot, my northern lover. This is just getting started.”
“That’s crazy.” He reached up and took the bundle of sheets from Tucker. He might not know from hot in Texas, but he sure as hell knew from hot on that ladder. He watched Tucker’s naked ass make its way down, mouth going dry all over again.
“I started—” Damn. Now it was hot in here. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I also started loading up that stuff you painted before I arrived onto that little flatbed attached to your utility tractor. I meant it about setting those things on fire. Just a few more to go.”
“Okay.” Just that easy. Just okay. Calvin wasn’t sure Tucker ever thought about those paintings now. It was as if Calvin had seen them, accepted them, and Tucker let them go.
“Cool.” He handed the sheets back to Tucker. He didn’t think much about them either; he just didn’t want them around anymore. He kind of got how Tucker might have felt in New York. Maybe he was throwing his own little tantrum about them. He snorted and shook his head at himself. Whatever. Fire sounded like fun. “Want to see what I’m doing inside?” He made his way over to where the last three paintings were stacked, leaning against an easel.
“I do. Absolutely. Can I have a kiss, please?”
“You may.” He smiled and took two steps back, moving right into his lover’s arms. The way Tucker asked for kisses was always so sweet, as if maybe he had it in him to say no. “Anytime, tiger.”
The kiss wasn’t a huge thing, but it was breathtaking, maybe just for that reason. Tucker kissed him because Tucker wanted a kiss. Because Tucker enjoyed their connection. Because Tucker could.
And it made him smile like a fool every damn time. “Mmm. Right back at you, baby.” He leaned up and kissed Tucker’s nose. “I love you.”
Saying that was as natural as breathing now, and he was kind of in awe of that idea.
“I love you. Come on. I’m going to make a limeade. I’m thirsty to death. What am I carrying, honey?”
“Can you get this one?” He handed Tucker one of the paintings. “I can get these two, they’re smaller. I’ve been jogging them in. I was worried what the heat and sudden temp change and all might do to them.”
“That would be interesting to find out. I should make one and put it outside.”
“I could photograph it for you, like a record, you know?” He pushed open the heavy door and was blasted with dry, hot air. “Oh. Hello sun. Jesus.”
“That sounds cool. We’ll do it tomorrow.” Tucker turned his face up toward the sun, a smile on his face.
Yeah, that was beautiful. You could do that when you were a bronze god. When you were a New York model whose skin hadn’t seen the sun in ten years? Not so much. He took off at a jog and let Tucker catch up when he wanted to.
Back in the air-conditioning, he set the paintings down and went to the kitchen for more water.
Tucker wandered in, wearing flip-flops and nothing else, and started laundry.
“Can you do a handstand?” Tucker asked.
Could he… what? Tucker was so funny. There was some train of thought there, he was sure, but he’d never be able to follow it. “Free-form? No. Or, well, I haven’t really tried in years. Against a wall? No problem.”
He found a section of wall and tumbled forward into a handstand, touching his heels to it for balance. “How’s that?” The blood rushed to his head pretty dramatically. He’d forgotten about that part.
“Oh my God! You can!” Tucker applauded wildly. “You just did it! I want to try.”
“Really?” Tucker doing a handstand. Huh. He flipped his legs back down and stood up slowly. “Woo. Head rush.” He fixed his hair, not that he needed to do much more than smooth it back. He hadn’t done his hair since he got here. He was letting everything relax.
Was it safe? “You’re pretty buff in the shoulders… you have decent balance….” Had to be all that woodworking and wall-building, because Tucker didn’t use the free weights in the other room. What did Tucker call that room? “Can you do a cartwheel? You kind of go down and kick up like that, only pull your feet together. I’ll spot you. You’ll feel like you’re gonna go over backwards, but you can’t—wall.”
“Right. I do them in the pool.
I can walk the whole length of the pool on my hands.” Tucker looked, then bent over and slowly put one leg up.
Hmm. Well, that was going to be tough. “It’s easier with momentum, but… can you push off with the one leg and—”
Whoa. He caught the second leg by the calf and just guided Tucker’s feet to the wall. The man was obviously way stronger than Calvin had given him credit for. “Okay, then. You’re up!”
“I am! Do you think I can walk?”
“Not without hurting something important.” It seemed more likely than he’d have thought a minute ago, but he really didn’t feel like a trip to the emergency room today. “Leave that for the pool. If you fall you’ll probably take us both out. Come down and make yourself that drink.”
“Yeah.”
Jesus. Look at those abs. That was no fair. No fair that Tucker could just… it was damn hot, though.
“You are a stud. You know that? I mean, of course you know that. I’m just letting you know that I’m appreciative of the fact. The whole naked and upside down thing was kind of doing it for me too.” He grinned, watching Tucker roll gracefully out of the handstand. The next two lies and a truth might be one lie, one truth, and one feat of naked acrobatics. Damn.
“Given that you’re the hottest son of a bitch on earth, that’s pretty damn cool.”
He laughed. “We are certainly each other’s number one fans, right?” He walked past Tucker, dragging his hand across that tight, muscled middle as he went by.
“That’s how it’s supposed to work.” Tucker caught sight of one of the paintings hanging in the house. “That’s lovely there in the sun.”
“Oh! Yes. Let me show you.” He slipped his hand into Tucker’s and led him out into the house.
“Okay, so there’s that one that I really hope won’t fade there, but the sun lit it so nicely, and the colors kept changing as the sun got higher in the sky. And then….” He pulled Tucker over to two more paintings, both nearly identical except for a few details, and one was much larger than the other. “These two I put here on the other side. They look great together.”