by Jerry Cole
Wrapping his arms around Bobby’s neck, Steve relished the look on Bobby’s face, the small smile, the softness around his eyes, and the rub of his fingers against the skin beneath Steve’s shirt. “We should leave.”
“We should,” Bobby hedged, but he didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere. He drops his head forward, pressed to Steve’s chest, and Steve nestled his chin on top of Bobby’s head. It was a good feeling, and Steve was determined to keep it.
Steve eventually pulled away, kissing Bobby one last time before reaching for his wallet. “We should go if we’re going to do something before the flight.”
Bobby sighed dramatically, but pulled open the door when Steve was ready, and led the way to the elevator. “I mean, we could have done something much more exciting.”
“Like what?” Steve said, raising his eyebrows.
“Well,” Bobby said, drawing out the word, leaning against Steve as they stepped into the elevator and waited for it to descend. “We could have stayed in bed. Or, you know, done something else.”
Steve rolled his eyes, sliding an arm over Bobby’s shoulders and tugging him closer. “We could have spent the morning fucking,” he said, pitching his voice lower as the doors opened, “or we could spend the day enjoying each other’s company, fly back, then fuck.”
Bobby shuddered gently, and Steve grinned, triumphant, shocked when Bobby’s hand slid to his ass and squeezed, obvious from their position in the lobby, and as Steve flushed, Bobby laughed, and it was a brilliant sound.
Chapter Eight
Falling face first onto his own bed, Steve groaned in appreciation.
Though he and Bobby had been in good spirits on the plane, on their way home from the airport, Bobby had been half-asleep. He let Steve guide him around the airport, a ride to Bobby’s apartment and some food for him to half-heartedly pick at.
“I had a great time,” Bobby said sleepily, pressing a sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek, shoving his trash into the paper bag. “Come find me in a week.”
Steve laughed gently, running a hand through Bobby’s hair, and leaning across him to open the door. “You have class on Wednesday. You better show up because we have a coffee date in the afternoon.”
“We do?” Bobby’s brow furrowed, but he was smiling. “Sure, I’ll be there. Sleeping for the next few days, though.”
Waiting long enough to make sure that Bobby was inside safely, Steve directed the cab back to his apartment. Jamie and Sam were both out—Steve didn’t know where—but he had twin texts to tell him the house was his alone. Not that either of them knew he wouldn’t exactly need the empty apartment. Bobby was dead to the world in his own bed and Steve was looking forward to the same. The weekend had been as emotionally draining as it had been amazing.
Steve was woken the next morning by Jamie and Sam banging their way into the apartment, laughing and messing around, and Steve wanted to be angry, but his phone helpfully informed him it was close to midday and he cursed. He’d missed a class, and God, he would have to send an email to his tutor apologizing, but it was worth it. He felt rested, and the giddy feeling hadn’t faded yet. Ducking into the shower, Steve knew he would have to face down his friends. They’d throw a torrent of questions at him, demand to know whether they slept together, and tease Steve mercilessly for the drama of his confession.
If Steve chose to tell them.
Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie because anything else seemed like too much, Steve padded out into the living room to find a bacon sandwich and a mug of coffee on the table.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said, planting a sloppy kiss on Jamie’s cheek.
Jamie slapped out, hitting Steve in the thigh, who grunted and dropped into the armchair. “Fuck you, Mitchell.”
Sam tipped his head against the back of the couch and narrowed his eyes at Steve. “So? How was your weekend away? Any drama?”
Steve rolled his eyes and deliberately took a bite of his sandwich. He didn’t need time to collect his thoughts or anything, but it was worth it for the irritation and interest on his friends’ faces.
“Are you and Bobby still together?”
“Funny,” Steve said, giving Sam the middle finger. “I’m actually thinking of inviting him to Mom’s.”
There was a silence that should have made Steve nervous, but just made him certain he made the right decision.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Jamie’s eyes were bright, his expression careful, but there was a hint of something else that Steve couldn’t read. It wasn’t jealousy—Steve knew well what that looked like—but it was something close. “Jackie’s a big deal.”
“I know,” Steve said, staring at Jamie straight on. Jamie had been his friend since they were kids, and Steve needed him to be okay with Bobby. “Bobby’s a big deal.”
Sam let out a low whistle. “The weekend that serious, huh?”
“I might have said something I didn’t mean to,” Steve admitted, sliding his plate back onto the coffee table and cradling his mug. “We slept together.”
Jamie and Sam crowed in delight, like the children they were, but sobered quickly. Sam leaned forward in his chair. “All right, and?”
“Well, in the morning,” Steve started, and told them about the impromptu admission, and the resulting confession. He didn’t tell them about the afternoon they’d spent together after that, which had been perfect. Bobby had taken him to major sites in Manhattan, bought him street food, and had held his hand on the way back to the hotel. Steve was smitten, and he couldn’t hide it, even from himself. “And then we came home.”
“He’s not still in your room, is he?” Jamie asked, and though there was still a sense of apprehension about him, Steve figured most of it came from worry about Steve and whether he was going to get his heart broken. Jamie’s protectiveness could be a pain in the ass most of the time.
“Yes, Jamie, because I came out here to eat a sandwich knowing I’d left Bobby asleep in my bed. I should probably go find him.” Steve rolled his eyes, enjoying Sam’s laugh, and the exasperated huff of a laugh from Jamie. “I’m not seeing him again until Wednesday. Don’t wanna get too sick of him.”
Talk turned to what Sam and Jamie had been up to all weekend, and Steve was glad for the subject change. He was happy enough to tell the guys about his weekend away with Bobby, but he wouldn’t always be so forthcoming. His time with Bobby was private, and there were some things you should never share with your friends.
When the TV went on and Sam thumbed through to old reruns of a comedy show Steve couldn’t remember ever watching, he popped into the bedroom to grab his phone, and settled back onto the couch with a bag of chips and some soda. Jamie stole handfuls at a time, and Steve rolled his eyes, allowing it because he was preoccupied with his phone.
Bobby had texted him, three in a row, and Steve was already smiling before he’d opened them. Sam rolled his eyes, but Steve flipped him off.
Morning handsome. Is it morning? Is it even a day?
Thanks for getting me home. You should have stayed :(
Let me know when you’re up. Is it Wednesday?
Steve let out a breath, rubbing a thumb across the screen of his phone, as if it would be the same as stroking a finger over Bobby’s face. Love was a strong word, but Steve didn’t doubt that it could grow into that, and not just because Bobby was good with his words.
Afternoon. Glad you’re still alive. Barely. It’s not Wednesday yet, but I did miss a class because I was so tired. You’re passing your bad habits on to me.
Bobby hadn’t missed a class, as far as Steve was aware, but the fact Bobby would respond with indignation was enough incentive to do so.
How dare you!!!!!!
Steven Mitchell, I am a paragon of virtue!!
Also, you didn’t reply about staying with me :(
Steve snorted, tapping out a reply about never leaving the house if they did end up in the same place. It was partly the truth, especially given Steve could imagine himself
staying with Bobby most nights. It was becoming a problem, and not only because they hadn’t known each other long enough for it to make sense.
Maybe stop worrying about how short a time you’ve been together, he told himself seriously, and instead focus on the fact you’re with him at all?
Though Steve felt a touch of guilt about not attending class, he hadn’t received any messages from his tutor. Professor Taylor was a good guy, and he seemed to have taken a shine to Steve and his projects. He had promised to be Steve’s advisor when it came to his final project, and he just had to figure out what that was going to be.
Wanting nothing more than to spend the time until his next date with Bobby in his apartment, Steve had to force himself to go back to campus Tuesday. It was another early morning, and when his alarm went off, Steve slapped it absently, cursing under his breath. The rest of the apartment was silent, not unusual, and even though he had a coffee date the next day, Steve headed for the coffee shop.
Unfortunately, by the time he made it to campus, there wasn’t a lot of time left until his class, and Steve fought down the frustration, the day already tanking, and it only got worse when he arrived at the lecture hall to find out it had been moved. He hated showing up to lectures late, but he was already cutting it tight.
Cursing under his breath, he managed to make it to the lecture hall, ducking into the room, even though Professor Taylor had already started. Not many people looked his way as he slid across the bench into a spare seat and tried to get his laptop out without causing a scene.
Trying to pay attention was difficult, even worse when he felt his phone go off, and cursed, flush rising on his cheeks as he dug his phone out of his bag, ignoring the looks thrown his way. The day couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Except, when he was trying to leave, Professor Taylor caught him. “Steve? A word.”
Steve groaned inwardly, eyes darting to the students around him and nobody seemed to find it weird or notable, but most of them didn’t care.
“Sorry I was late, Professor,” Steve said, as he approached the lectern.
“I’m not concerned about that, Steve,” Professor Taylor said. He was an older man—probably had 30 years on Steve—but he was spry and quick as a whip, and generally Steve’s favorite professor on campus. There was a stack of papers on the lectern, and Professor Taylor picked one up, handing it to Steve. “This is the new assignment. I handed them out yesterday, but you weren’t here.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too.”
“Stop apologizing.” There was a laugh in Taylor’s tone, and he folded his arms across his chest. “You’re allowed to miss classes, Steve, as long as you cover what you missed.”
Steve nodded, and stared at the piece of paper. Eyes scanning the brief, he frowned when he realized what the assignment was. “We have to sketch a photograph?”
“Yes,” Taylor said. “I discussed it with Professor Heller, your photography advisor, and we decided to combine your assignment specifically, if that’s what you wish.”
Steve was surprised. He didn’t realize it was possible to combine his focuses, but Taylor wasn’t done, and handed over another piece of paper. “What’s this?”
“The University wants to hold a showcase of some students art for a show at the end of the semester.”
“Okay,” Steve said slowly, and then saw his name on the piece of paper. “Me?”
“Your art is good,” Taylor continued, and his expression was serious. “Your photography is just as good, and we think you could come up with a brilliant theme to put up at the show.”
Steve didn’t know what to say. It was a little overwhelming, and he honestly didn’t know if he could do it. His work wasn’t that good, at least he didn’t think so, and he wasn’t sure he wanted so many people seeing his work, especially with the doubts he had about it. “I’m not sure.”
“You don’t have to decide now.” Taylor waved off Steve’s concern with a hand. “You can still combine your projects if you wish. We’ll need to know within the month if you plan to do it, to get things set up and take over your position if you don’t want it, so take your time.”
“Thanks,” Steve said absently.
Taylor let him go, and Steve shoved the papers into his bag, not sure what to make of it. Part of him wanted it, and he was sure if he told his mom about the showcase, she would agree with him, but he also knew that if he did that, he would have to follow through. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew what to do about it.
Checking the text that had come in during class, most of Steve’s irritation and shame about the day seemed to fade beneath the Bobby! alert.
Hey babe. hope you’re having a great day. Noah and Helena are being nosey so I told them. Apparently they think we’re disgusting. Shit sorry, I didn’t realize you were in class! I hope I didn’t get you into trouble, I’m sorry
So maybe it had been embarrassing at the time, but Steve couldn’t stay mad at Bobby with an apology like that. The fact Noah and Helena thought they were disgusting, and Jamie was getting a little intense about Steve and Bobby’s relationship, were actually pretty uplifting. It meant things were as serious as Steve hoped they were. Only a couple of dates in and Steve was still thinking about long term.
It’s fine. I had a weird talk with my professor. Tell you tomorrow because I’m not sure what to do about it.
Usually, it would be Jamie and Sam who heard about his issues with the class. He still would tell them, because it couldn’t hurt to get more opinions, but it was still a Big Thing to tell Bobby.
Sure, big guy. tomorrow ??
Chapter Nine
“Hey babe,” Bobby said, coming up behind Steve in the coffee shop.
Steve grinned, the endearment causing his heart to skip. He turned, hesitating because though he wanted to kiss Bobby, he wasn’t sure that was allowed. Bobby’s smile was warm as he leaned up, resting a hand on Steve’s chest as he kissed him, quick and chaste. “Morning. Coffee?”
“Steve,” Bobby said, moaning in satisfaction as he took his first sip of coffee. “You’re so perfect.”
Snorting, Steve rested a hand at the base of Bobby’s spine and led him over to a spare table. “You got time?”
Bobby gave him an unimpressed look. “Date at a coffee shop and you think I’m gonna cut and run? Steve, tell me how you really feel.”
It was teasing, and Steve knew that, but he couldn’t help the flash of panic. It must have shown on his face, because Bobby curled a hand around the back of his neck, laughing gently and kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth.
“I’m kidding, Steve. I’m staying for our date, so sit your ass down and tell me what this professor said.”
Feeling like an idiot, Steve dropped into one of the chairs, setting his coffee cup in front of him. Bobby sat opposite, refusing to relinquish his grip on his coffee mug, and Steve smiled, amused, while rooting around in his bag for the papers Taylor had given him.
Bobby tugged them toward him, eyes scanning the pages quickly. He was a fast reader, something Steve had already discovered about him, and he looks up. “This is intense shit, Steve.”
“I know,” Steve sighed.
There was an assessing look on Bobby’s face, and he sat back in his chair. “Are you scared about doing it, or just don’t want to share your work?”
Steve frowned. “Neither? It’s not…it’s a lot of pressure, sure, and I know I can do it because I’ve sketched my photographs before but. It’s only a select few people, you know. I’m not good enough.”
Bobby took his time answering and Steve appreciated it. He didn’t want Bobby to make the decision for him, but he trusted his opinion enough to wait for it. When he finally leaned forward, Steve thought Bobby was reaching for the papers again, but instead he curled his fingers around Steve’s, squeezing gently. “Steve, I haven’t seen any of your work and personally, that’s a crime, but I know for a fact you’re always selling yourself short. Only you know whether this is somethi
ng you can do, but I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
“Even if I make you the subject?” Steve joked.
Something flickered over Bobby’s face and Steve realized it was want and hope in equal measure. “That wouldn’t be terrible.”
Steve’s breath hitched. He didn’t usually focus on people in his photographs, preferring cityscapes and landscapes. Sketching people was difficult, especially people he knew, but Steve couldn’t deny that having Bobby as the focus of his work would be pretty damned amazing. “You mean it?”
“Don’t think I’ve ever been someone’s muse before,” Bobby said, lips curved into a small smile. “Though I’m just as happy to cheerlead on the sidelines.”
“My mom wants to meet you,” Steve blurted out abruptly and fuck, that was definitely not what he wanted to say.
“Uh,” Bobby said, looking shocked.
“Not that you have to do anything about it,” Steve hurried to amend. “I mean, it’s a bit soon I know, but she keeps asking. It’s weird, right?”
“Steve,” Bobby said, laughing around the word, “Relax. It’s not so weird. Moms can be like that.”
Steve didn’t want to push, so he let out a small laugh and returned the squeeze of his hand before turning back to his coffee. He could feel Bobby’s eyes on him, but he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to ask properly without sounding like an idiot.
“It’s not too soon,” Bobby said at last. When Steve met his eyes, he was staring down into his mug. “If my mom was around, I know she’d have wanted to meet you before you took me on a weekend away.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, laughing at that. “Pretty sure my mom was waiting for me to volunteer that suggestion, but I know better.”
They turned the conversation to Steve’s mom, and though Steve wanted to ask about Bobby’s mom, he couldn’t bring himself too. Steve already knew Bobby had been living with it for a while, but that didn’t make it any easier to bring up the memories and talk about them.