Like Heaven on Earth

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Like Heaven on Earth Page 20

by Jaime Samms


  “Baby.” He breathed in the scent of Cobalt’s lemon soap and groaned at the feel of him, less bony now, stronger, heavier. Cupping the back of Cobalt’s head, he snuggled his face in close and pressed lips to Cobalt’s neck. So real and warm. “God, I missed you.”

  “So much,” Cobalt agreed. He pried himself away just enough to get his lips on Preston’s, and the kiss seared Preston’s synapses.

  He had one hand buried in Cobalt’s hair and one squeezing his ass when the screen door creaked and the dog jolted his leg.

  “Mmff.” Cobalt fumbled and almost tipped over, but Preston held on tighter, lifted, and spun him out of the way.

  “Sorry,” Matt muttered. “Beer.” He snatched his beverage off the barbecue shelf and disappeared back into the house. Noise from the television reached them, but they ignored it in favor of drinking in the sight of each other.

  “You didn’t call,” Preston said at last.

  “It was sort of a rush decision.”

  “How long?” Preston swallowed and blinked, hugged him again, and held him back so Preston could see him. “It’s Monday.” He tilted his head. “What’s going on? How long are you here for?”

  Cobalt’s grin once more brightened the entire universe. “Forever.”

  “What?”

  A small, nonchalant shrug, and Cobalt traced the trim on Preston’s T-shirt collar with one finger. “I sort of… quit.”

  “You what?” Preston lifted his chin, forcing Cobalt to look him in the eye. “You quit? What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

  “Well. I did quit. ‘Sort of’ means they talked me into one show. Opening night to generate some noise, then I’m done. I’ll have to go back for rehearsals for a week before that, but otherwise, I’m home.”

  “So they didn’t want you to understudy after all?”

  “Oh, they did. In fact, they wanted more, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Why? Did Calvin do something? Did he—”

  “Shh.” Cobalt’s eyes got stormy, and he pressed that finger to Preston’s lips. “He didn’t do anything. Don’t be mean. Not anymore.”

  Preston tilted his head but kept quiet.

  “He’s… well. Sick. And hurting, and we aren’t going to hurt him more than he’s already hurting himself.” He took a step back and plucked the spatula from the railing where Preston had put it. “Plus, he met someone.” As he explained about Holland, Cobalt tended to the burgers and put buns on the grill to toast. “I think he’s going to be okay someday. I want him to be okay, baby. I’m not angry anymore.”

  Preston hugged him from behind and watched the meat cooking over his shoulder. “You’re an amazing man,” he whispered.

  “I’m a selfish man. I want to be happy. With you. I can’t be if I carry all Cal’s weight around with me. I’m not being magnanimous. I’m being self-centered and greedy.”

  “Then so am I.” He nipped at Cobalt’s neck, making Cobalt squirm and yelp but instantly still again as Preston sucked at the spot and laved it to soothe the sting. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  Cobalt settled back against him. “Me too.” He patted one of the burgers with the flipper. “Shall we feed the hordes, then?”

  “Can’t we kick them out?”

  “They came here, presumably, to make sure you weren’t wasting away on your own. The least I can do is feed them for their effort.” He twisted enough to plunk a kiss on Preston’s cheek. “Then we can kick them out.”

  “Fine, fine.” Preston brought the platter from the table, and they proceeded to load it up to bring inside.

  They all sat around the television to eat, and Cobalt watched as Columbo—playing some kind old grandfather—read to his grandkid from a silly fantasy novel.

  “What even is this?” He picked up the remote, but Preston plucked it from his hand and tossed it out of reach.

  “Watch,” he said. “And listen.”

  Cobalt rolled his eyes but did as he was told. Truth was, the movie turned out in the end to be cute, and kind, and entertaining, and when the Columbo-not-Columbo voice-over explained what Wesley really meant when he told Buttercup, “As you wish,” he just about choked on his salad greens.

  He glanced at Preston, who watched with amusement. Next to him, Azure dug an elbow into his ribs. “You see now?” he whispered.

  Cobalt managed to get the lettuce down the right pipe and nodded. “You’ve been saying that—”

  Preston nodded. “I know.”

  “—forever,” Cobalt finished.

  “A really long time.” Preston squeezed his knee and smiled.

  Chapter 26

  SOMETHING HAD changed. Preston could feel it. He could see it in the way Cobalt moved. It wasn’t just his improved flush of health or the increased bulk of his shoulders under the filmy, flirtatious shirt. It was more than the toned, flat abs that peeked from beneath the floating hem of fabric where the waistband of his jeans didn’t quite reach his belly button. All of those things contributed, but they were merely surface changes.

  What he felt emanating from his lover came from a deeper place. It made Cobalt’s skin glow, his eyes sparkle, and his smile shine like the sun. It all made Preston’s breath catch and his skin pebble with excitement, to say nothing of the impatient stirrings of his cock as the evening wore on and their friends lingered.

  “Do you think they’ll ever leave?” Cobalt whispered at one point. Preston was elbow-deep in dishwater, scrubbing the remains of charred potatoes off the pan they had forgotten on the grill. He groaned under his breath in answer.

  “Me too,” Cobalt assured him. He left a lingering kiss on the side of Preston’s neck that sent his flesh skittering all over with more goose bumps. Then he floated away again to talk to Adam.

  “Are you all right?” Azure at his elbow, replacing Cobalt, made Preston grimace. “You do look a tad flushed, Mal.”

  “Shut it.”

  Azure snickered. “Shall I round up the crew and kick them out?”

  “No. Let him visit as long as he needs.” He glanced at Cobalt, who was laughing aloud at something Matt had said. “These people are his family. They deserve to see him like this as much as I do.”

  “Like this?”

  “You haven’t noticed a change?” Was it just him? Just his Cobalt-tinted glasses showing him a new, more vibrant man in the place of the shaky one who had left him to go dance not so long ago?

  Azure grinned. “Of course I have. He’s brighter.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re good for him.”

  “This is nothing to do with me, Az. He’s out from under Calvin’s thumb. He’s dancing again. He’s done this for himself.”

  “You don’t think knowing you’re here, waiting for him, making his house a home, makes a difference?”

  Preston shrugged. “If it does, then I am happy to do it.”

  “You’d do it no matter what.”

  “Not if it was going to hurt him. But I don’t think it has.”

  Azure patted his back. “You’re good for him,” he said again. “Very good.”

  “As he is for me.”

  “I’m happy for you, Mal. For both of you, but I’m happy you finally have this, after the length of time you waited.”

  “I’d wait longer. As long as he needed.”

  “Maybe for once in your life, Mal, instead of waiting for him to catch up, you should grab him and bring him along.”

  “Another hour or so while he enjoys the company of the other people who love and appreciate him won’t kill me.”

  Azure laughed. “Fine. But don’t say I never offered you anything.”

  They fell into silence for a short time, until Preston felt the moments of talking about Cobalt had faded. He cleared his throat and glanced sideways at Azure. “I wonder….”

  Azure lifted a brow. “Yes?”

  “Well. Obviously you drove here, but you haven’t been driving yourself around town all this time while I’ve been fixing the house.”


  “The house? Not Cobalt’s house?”

  Heat flashed up to Preston’s cheeks, but he moved on. “I just wanted to be sure you are happy with whoever has taken my place—”

  “Filled in, Mal. She’s been filling in for you, not taking your place. That job is yours until you tell me you no longer want it. You know Cobalt really doesn’t need you to work.”

  “I like having a job. It’s not even the income, because I know Cobalt would never deny me anything. That isn’t the point.”

  “Then?”

  Preston shifted his feet as he set the last glass in the dish drainer. “It’s a good job,” he muttered.

  “Oh? But I heard your boss was a tyrant. Demanding and all that.”

  Preston pursed his lips, years of being the driver schooling the smart—and slightly foul—remark from his tongue.

  Once more Azure laughed, clearly seeing the reflection of the words in Preston’s eyes, even though he didn’t say them aloud.

  “You know I never once thought that,” Preston said, the sentiment overtaking him as he spoke. “You’ve been nothing if not patient and accommodating, and I can’t thank you enough—”

  “Stop.” Azure clapped him on the back and took a small step closer. “No thanks necessary. You know that. He’s my brother. You are my very best friend.”

  Preston gave him a sharp look. “Me?”

  “Let’s just not make a thing of that, okay?”

  “If I’m you’re very best friend, you need to get out more.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  Preston grinned. “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad he’s back, Mal. I won’t lie.” Azure glanced over at Cobalt, who gave them a puzzled glance but quickly turned back to Matt, who was talking expansively with both hands. “I worried about him down there.”

  Preston yanked the plug and wiped down the sink, methodical as he searched for the right words. “As did I.”

  “But you let him go.”

  “He had to go. And come back, in his own time.”

  “He’s lucky to have you. I’m also glad of that.”

  “That is a thing that is more than mutual. He worked very hard to make this place a home. I’ve done my best to patch up the cracks, but he didn’t have to let me in.”

  “That, my sweet, sweet heart, is where you are dead wrong.” Arms snaked around him from behind, and Cobalt’s breath warmed the back of his neck as he planted a soft kiss. “Letting you in is the thing that saved me,” he whispered. More loudly, he said, “This is as much your home now as it ever was mine, so if you don’t mind kicking your inebriated and annoying friends to the curb….” He made a gesture with his arm toward the door. “Homecoming dinner was fabulous, everyone. Really. Now I want dessert, which is long, long overdue.”

  “You’re not sharing?” Matt asked, teetering slightly toward Christopher, who rolled his eyes even as he caught him.

  “Not this time,” Cobalt announced, wrapping an arm of steel around Preston’s waist. “Not ever. Now, out. All of you.”

  “Hey.” Preston tried to pry him off and failed. “Don’t be rude.”

  “It’s fine.” Peridot took a few steps into the room, and Adam gravitated to him. “We’re well used to it.” He grinned at Cobalt. “We’re glad you’re back. I’m glad you’re back. Your students missed you. Seems I’m not quite the modern instructor you are.”

  “Hear, hear,” Matt crowed, wobbling again.

  “Oh, baby.” Christopher braced himself to hold his lover up. “We are so walking home, you lush.”

  Matt grinned at him. “Can we make out in the park on the way?”

  “In this neighborhood?” Christopher looked slightly panicked and glanced at Adam.

  “Babe?” Adam extricated himself from Peridot’s embrace and looked up at him. “I’m going to drive them home. Pick me up there?”

  “Certainly.” He kissed Adam’s cheek and approached Cobalt, slinking long arms around his friend and holding on a long time. He whispered something in Cobalt’s ear that Preston didn’t hear but that made Cobalt’s eyes shine.

  “Of course,” Cobalt said, voice thick. He stepped away. “You know I will.”

  Peridot glanced past him. “You can bring him, you know.” He met Preston’s gaze. “Mi casa, and all that.”

  “Sure,” Preston muttered, thinking they must be talking about their weekly Tuesday morning breakfast date. “I’ll drive him over, anyway.”

  “Thank you.” And with that, the crowd thinned down to Conrad, Dusty, and Azure, the latter quickly hugging his brother, shaking Preston’s hand, and disappearing.

  “Don’t feel like you have to come back to the studio,” Conrad told Cobalt as he gathered up the dishes he and Dusty had brought salads in. “I know Perry misses you, but—”

  “I’d like to,” Cobalt blurted. “I’d very much like to. I—think I have something to offer.” He shrugged and his fingers twitched until he found a braid of leather sewn over the outer seam of his jeans. He followed the twists of material up and down as he spoke. “We had a few injured dancers while I was down there. And Cal’s—well. We had to manage rehearsals carefully, to keep everyone healthy. I think—it might be something we can look at teaching, as far as preparing for shows. Not the medical aspect, obviously. But preventative and maintenance physio. We can hire—”

  “Coby.” Conrad held up a hand. “I want you back too. You don’t have to invent a job for yourself—you have one. It’s yours for the taking. But I do like the idea. Let me sit with it for a while and see what I can figure out.”

  Cobalt smiled. “I—thank you. So much.”

  Conrad pulled him into a hug, this one almost as long as Peridot’s had been, before he pulled back and looked into Cobalt’s face. “I’m glad you’re dancing again,” he said. “You, of all of us. You should be dancing.”

  Cobalt nodded. “I’m glad too.”

  Chapter 27

  THERE WAS so much to talk about. The house, for starters, and the fact Preston had all but moved in while Cobalt was gone. Cobalt’s travels to do the opening night of Holland’s show, and the upcoming show for his company. What effect, if any, his bailing on the ballet company would have on his career and future employability beyond Conrad’s studio. How Cobalt might feel being tied to someone who actually liked his job as the underling who drove Azure around all day.

  None of it came up. In fact, nothing at all came up. They finished cleaning the kitchen in silence, and Preston was okay with that. He wasn’t sure what to tackle first anyway, and Cobalt seemed, at the moment, to be at peace. This peace felt deeper, more stable, than it had in many, many years, and it looked hot as fuck on him.

  They also barely touched. There was the odd brush of Cobalt’s hand on his as they passed things from counter to refrigerator, or the tantalizing whisper of Cobalt’s flowy top against the bare skin of Preston’s arm. Nothing real or solid, and the lack was driving him completely out of his mind with hunger. Especially after the promising mention of “dessert.”

  Every now and then, Cobalt glanced up at him from under his lashes, and Preston’s heart thumped. There was smoky heat in his lover’s brilliant eyes, damping the intensity of color in favor of that shimmer of scalding promise.

  They had finally wiped down the last counter and flipped the lights off when Preston’s self-control, already strained, began to unravel with sharp twangs of need deep in his gut. He growled as Cobalt slunk past him to bend and pat Chance good night.

  Cobalt glanced over his shoulder at Preston, a dark look in his eyes “You okay, sugar?” he asked sweetly.

  Preston had to rip his attention away from the taut denim covering that dancer’s ass of Cobalt’s to meet his gaze. “Are you joking right now?”

  Cobalt smirked. “Am I?”

  Preston gritted his teeth, turned on his heel, and stalked toward the stairs.

  Cobalt’s lilting chuckle followed, quickly chased by the light patter of tiptoe steps ove
r the floor. Cobalt managed to just nip past him before he reached the steps, then dart up ahead of him. He was inside the bedroom before Preston had lumbered to the landing.

  “Come on, slowpoke,” Cobalt called, voice teasingly husky, from around the bedroom door. “You expect me to wait forever?”

  Preston snarled softly, a little desperate as his cock hardened at the tease in Cobalt’s tone. “Seriously?” he muttered, gaining the top floor and then stepping into the room.

  Cobalt was standing behind the door, back to it, staring at himself in the full-length mirror. “What do you think?” he asked, lifting one arm in a graceful arch, pointing the toe of his right foot and stretching that leg out in front slightly, at an angle.

  Think? Preston swallowed hard, taking in the enticing pose. To his uneducated eye, the picture of beauty passed beyond perfection to encompass his whole world. He placed a hand on each of Cobalt’s hips and stood close enough to feel Cobalt’s heat seep into him.

  “You make it very hard to think at all,” Preston growled.

  “Oh?” Cobalt lifted one eyebrow, adjusted his feet until his ass was pressed tight to Preston’s now aching erection. “Hard indeed, precious.”

  Ignoring the vicious ache in his groin just for a moment, Preston met Cobalt’s gaze in the mirror. “You’re playing with fire, you know.”

  “Not afraid of getting burned,” Cobalt breathed. “Not by you, anyway.”

  Preston growled low in his chest, spun Cobalt by his hips, and maneuvered him against the wall with a thump.

  Cobalt’s breath caught. His eyes darkened further, and he parted his lips, staring at Preston, challenge in every line of his expression and in the tension of his body. “Not the pushover I used to be,” he whispered, moving to drive himself away from the wall again.

  “No. I never thought you were a pushover.” Preston buried his face in the crook of Cobalt’s neck, shoving him back, trapping him as he began to suck and nibble. He listened for the stuttering breaths Cobalt took, heard the jumping pulse, so close to going off the rails altogether, and leaned a tiny bit more.

 

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