By the Way

by Megan Derr

  He picked himself up off the floor slowly, and looked at Wally in disbelief. "You punched me!"

  "Yeah, and next I'm going to throttle you. I cannot fucking believe you've—what have you felt since college, exactly?"

  Antoine said nothing, but he supposed something in his face must have finally given the whole goddamn game away.

  "You—you've been in love with me this whole fucking time?"

  Though Antoine wasn't exactly certain, because Wally's poker face was so much better than his own, he thought he knew Wally enough to take a gamble and say, "Doesn't sound like I was the only one keeping shit to myself, Wally."

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  Wally was silent for entirely too long, before he finally said quietly, "I was married, and you're a player, and I figured I was shit for choosing who to fall in love with."

  Antoine nodded, and gingerly touched the bruise already forming on his cheek. "You picked her, so I buried it. If friendship was all I could have, then I was going to take it. You were never supposed to know."

  "You've mattered more than her for a long damned time, Antoine. I wish you'd said something, but I see why you didn't. So that's why you threw your fucking hissy fit?"

  Shrugging, starting hard at the carpet, Antoine said, "I thought…I dunno." He shrugged again. "I just wanted you to myself for a little while. Where I didn't have to steal you from someone else, where I wasn't waiting for someone else's phone call to summon you home. Not for very long, just a little while.

  When it was Kathleen, I didn't feel so guilty. A kid, though…and no one asks guys like me to—whatever."

  He turned away to go retrieve his wine.

  But then it was him pinned to the floor, and he'd never seen Wally so physical and aggressive before, not even when he was pissed. It he wasn't more interested in feeling anxious and sorry for himself, he'd be seriously turned on.

  "I didn't think you'd say yes, asshole. You like your jet set, playboy life."

  "It keeps me busy," Antoine said, then just gave the fuck up. "It kept me distracted while you played house with that dumb bitch. If you're offering a different way to keep me busy, then say so."

  Wallace attempted to glare, but a smile was clearly battling for dominance. "I'm going to fucking kill you one of these days."

  "You have no room to talk," Antoine replied, fighting a smile of his own, "and I'd really prefer you fuck me rather than kill me."

  "I can do both, depending on the order," Wally retorted, then bent and prevented Antoine's reply by kissing him senseless.

  It was better than every last fantasy he'd had over the past fifteen years. They didn't even come close to the reality, hot and male, with a hint of wine and that vague hint of something tropical that had forced Antoine to avoid coconut and pineapple for fear of finally driving himself crazy.

  Christ Wally could kiss for a man who'd only ever had a handful of women in his life, and stopped after his first girlfriend at college. "The hell?" Antoine demanded when they finally paused for air. "Seriously.

  Why would she cheat on you if this is how you kiss, Wal—"

  "Shut up," Wally interrupted, and went back to kissing him.

  Antoine didn't need to be told twice. Damned if he was going to give either of them a chance to come to their senses or whatever. He didn't want to find out if that was going to be a problem. He fisted a hand in Wally's hair, pulling just enough to irritate—and got his lip bitten again for it, but somehow it only made him laugh.

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  Wally smiled at him. "You really are a brat. How do you get away with it?" When Antoine smirked, he rolled his eyes and said, "Never mind."

  "Come here," Antoine said, and tugged him down again, and this kiss was one of the slow and sweet and long ones he'd always wanted most to give.

  The expression on Wally's face then—of real happiness—took Antoine's breath away. He could not believe he'd been the one to finally put it there.

  "As wonderful as this is," Wally said, "we're a bit too old to be going at it on the floor like teenagers."

  Antoine smirked and helped himself to a generous handful of Wally's ass. Oh, yes, that was already proving to be well worth the wait and better than all those enthusiastic, torturous fantasies. "You're the one who tackled me that last time. This tackling and throwing punches and being all aggressive is a whole new side of you. It's kind of insanely hot."

  "I'll keep that in mind," Wally replied dryly. "For now, take me to bed."

  Antoine groaned at the words, and how easily Wally said them. "If I wake up soon, and realize this is all a dream, the real you is going to get smothered with a pillow."

  "Do you always talk this much when you're about to get laid?" Wally asked. "No wonder you—"

  This time, Antoine bit Wally's lip, then kissed him hard and deep. When they broke apart, he shoved Wally off, rolled to his feet, and then shoved Wally into the nearest wall and went at him like the world was ending in five minutes.

  He didn't relent, not when he could tell every protest and curse and threat was half-hearted, not when Wally tasted and felt and sounded like heaven. He pushed and took and gave until Wally was shuddering in his arms and muffling a cry in his mouth. He stole a handful of sloppy, lazy kisses at the end, before finally drawing back enough to say, "Certain we're too old to go at it like teenagers?"

  "Mentally, you're always a teenager, I think," Wally replied, then made Antoine forget what they were talking about by shoving a hand down his pants and wrapping a hand around his cock.

  Antoine gasped, and jerked, and thrust, and it was only then that it suddenly occurred to him—"That reminds me—"

  "Shut up," Wally said, and kissed him hard, and really, Antoine wasn't going to argue if the man wanted revenge. But even coming in Wally's arms wasn't enough to make him forget his original question, and he voiced it the moment he could think and speak again. "Since when do you like boys?"

  Wally just gave him a look. "Antoine, you're the one who says nothing is definite, least of all sexuality.

  And, you're almost as pretty as Mal, though you don't do drag half as well."

  "Oh, shut up," Antoine replied with a grin, not really caring who or what Wally liked, so long as it began and ended with him. "You didn't look so great in the cheerleader uniform yourself."

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  "No, but the pictures were pretty damned awesome," Wally said with a laugh.

  Antoine kissed the corner of his mouth, humming pleasure when Wally turned his head just enough to make a proper kiss of it. "Shower?" he asked breathlessly, some unknown time later.

  "Yeah," Wally replied, then smirked. "Then you can prove to me you can do better than a teenager."

  Antoine matched the smirk full measure. "Oh, will I ever."

  *~*~*

  Wally made certain the baby monitor was on and working before collapsing on the couch with his beer.

  The party to show off David was the day after tomorrow, and the house was in no condition for guests, but fuck if he could muster the energy to care quite yet. He picked up his cell phone for the millionth time, hoping for a missed call, a text, an email—anything. But the stupid thing only displayed date, time, and his new wallpaper of a sleeping David.

  Antoine hadn't dropped him so much as a word since yesterday morning. Not a big deal, except he usually texted or something at least once a day. He wasn't answering any calls either. Probably just meetings or dinner or something. It shouldn't bother him.

  Still, it did make him anxious and fearful all over again, no matter how stupid it was. All their conversations and emails and texts since Wally had returned stateside a few months ago, and they had never really discussed what they would do once Antoine was home as well.

  They'd be forced to deal with it in three months, when Antoine finally returned to the states. Sometimes it felt like Antoine would never come home. Wally wondered sometimes if work was forcing the issue, or if Antoine was letting them.

  But
, he reminded himself, Antoine had said the three months were it. He'd definitely be home after that, and London could learn to manage without him.

  Sitting suddenly like too much work. Finishing his beer in one long pull, Wally stretched out on his couch and closed his eyes with a sigh. Honestly, he needed to stop moping like a fucking girl.

  He heard a car pull in, a car door open and slam shut again, followed by the beeping of it locking.

  Probably his neighbor, given the side of the house from which the noise came. Christ, he hoped she just went straight to her own house and didn't come over to pester him and hint with zero subtlety that he really needed a woman about the place.

  He sighed again and wondered if he had the energy to fix dinner, or if dinner was just going to be another beer.

  "Is there room on that couch for two?"

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  Wally jumped, and jerked upright, nearly falling off the couch. He stared in disbelief. "You—" Oh, god, was Antoine a sight for sore eyes. He looked exhausted and rumpled but still so goddamn good. "I know I wasn't lying on this couch for three months." He swallowed and stood up.

  Before he could say anything further, Antoine took the few steps separating them and grabbed him, dragging Wally close and kissing him. Wally might have whimpered, just a bit, and kissed him until they had no choice but to draw apart.

  "Missed you," Antoine said softly. "Was afraid at the last minute that my get home early plan would completely fall through."

  Wally shook his head, unable to string words together. Instead, he just touched and pet, until Antoine being there, in his house, began sort of to feel almost real. "I can't believe you're here."

  "Me either," Antoine said. "Can we sit down before I fall down?"

  Wally nodded, and half-guided, half pushed Antoine down into his deep, soft leather sofa. He'd intended to sit down next to Antoine. How they wound up sprawled and tangled together, he wasn't quite certain, but he wasn't about to start complaining. "How was the trip?"

  "Long and tedious, and I hated you weren't there to pick me up, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise."

  "It's like Christmas and birthday and anniversary all rolled into one," Wally said with a grin.

  Antoine laughed. "Speaking of, we have an anniversary soon."

  Wally blinked. "We do?"

  "Yeah," Antoine replied softly. "Next Wednesday, we'll have met exactly sixteen years ago."

  "You remember the day we met?" Wally asked.

  Antoine grinned, and kissed him. "Of course I do."

  Wally was tempted to say he was sorry he'd taken so long, that he wished he'd figured shit out sooner—

  but he was sick and tired of the past. "You are proving to be entirely too sentimental for a player."

  "Then I guess I should formally announce my retirement," Antoine said. He started to say more, but the words were cut off by a massive yawn.

  "You should probably go to bed," Wally said reluctantly. "I'm sure you've been awake far too long."

  Antoine shrugged, or tried his best given their awkward arrangement, and said, "I'd rather have food and an ice cold beer, honestly."

  "That, I can provide, even if I'd rather stay here," Wally said with a smile, and stole a quick kiss before rolling off the couch so Antoine couldn't keep him there. In the kitchen, he pulled out two beers and the stuff to make sandwiches.

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  A second later, he somehow found himself pinned to the counter and being kissed to within an inch of his life.

  "Do you know what it's like to wait and wait for you, only to get you for a month, then to be deprived of you again?"

  Wally shivered as teeth grazed his throat. "It was no picnic this side of the ocean, trust me." He went gladly with one more kiss, then attempted to push Antoine away. "Eat, dork."

  "I'd rather devour you, honestly."

  "And you'd fall asleep somewhere in the middle of it all," Wally retorted. "There's plenty of time for that later."

  As if on cue, the baby monitor erupted with screaming and crying. Wally shook his head and chuckled.

  "Fix a sandwich while I go—" He blinked, and stared bemused, as Antoine more or less vanished up the kitchen stairs. "Upstairs," he finished unnecessarily. What the heck? He followed Antoine up the stairs.

  At the top, he immediately saw the light on in the baby's room. Crossing the hallway, which was really just a wide loop around the grand staircase, he paused in the doorway of David's room. Antoine stood beside the crib, facing the doorway, arms full of baby and blanket. He was making soft, nonsensical noises, to which David was happily replying.

  Try as he might, Wally could not think of a single thing to say.

  "He's cute as hell," Antoine said after a moment, looking up with a quiet sort of smile Wally had never seen before. "Must take after you."

  Wally smiled. "If we're lucky, he'll at least look like his mother. It would be hard on him if he looked exactly like whoever the hell his father is. Hopefully he gets nothing else from Kathleen."

  "We'll make sure of it," Antoine replied, looking back down at David.

  That little sentence, spoken so absently, made Wally even happier than the knowledge Antoine was home.

  Though, that little thought reminded him, "How did you manage to get home so early?"

  "I had a long talk with my boss," Antoine said. "The one I'll be replacing in a few months." He slowly dragged his eyes from David. "He wanted to talk about that, anyway. It was a rather amusing conversation. I told him I was looking to settle down, travel less, and I didn't know if that would be a problem. If so, I said they'd have to look for a new VP candidate."

  "Antoine—" Wally started, shocked to his core. Antoine wanted VP more than anything; he'd worked for years to climb to the top of Amberton-Lord.

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  But Antoine kept talking, not giving him a chance to speak. He settled David, fast asleep again, back into his crib. "He said it was definitely not a problem, that they were rather hoping to convince me to move away from my player image and present a more stable one in my position as VP. I said perfect, so long as they understood settled for me meant you and David. He said it would be a bit ridiculous to take issue, given that the Lord ruling over Amberton-Lord had a partner himself."

  "I see," Wally said, and drew him in for a kiss. "Using me to climb to the top, hmm?"

  "You make for a very sexy rung on the ladder," Antoine replied, nibbling at his jaw.

  Wally chuckled. "Come eat, dork. Then we'll go to bed. Tomorrow—when do you go back to work? Not right away I hope."

  "I have two weeks off," Antoine replied. "I thought we could spend tomorrow getting ready for the party, and the day after the party, we could start moving my stuff over?" The last was asked a bit hesitantly.

  Wally dragged him as close as he could manage, and kissed him senseless. "You don't mind living here?"

  "Hell no," Antoine replied. "It's a gorgeous house, even in the dark and when I'm ninety percent asleep.

  It's got you, and David. The rest is details. If there's room for me here, I want it."

  "I reserved a place just for you," Wally said with a smile, taking his hand and leading back to the kitchen stairs. He pointed to his own bedroom along the way. "My bed is brand new, and it has yet to be properly broken in."

  Antoine smiled, slow and hot and sexy as hell. "Then we should eat, and fix that little problem."

  Wally could not help but kiss him again, drunk on the smell and feel and taste of the person he'd always loved best in all the world. "Hey, player. Welcome home. By the way, I love you."

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