Irons and Works: The Complete Series

by E M Lindsey

  “Fuck,” he breathed, unable to help voicing aloud as Basil’s other hand snaked between them and cupped his balls. His fingers were gentle but insistent as they rolled his soft flesh, palming their heavy weight in his hands. He was already close—too close for comfort—but he found he couldn’t care. He was here, finally, with the man he’d wanted for weeks and weeks and it was happening.

  “Uhng,” Basil groaned. His voice was rich and deep, muted but so absolutely perfect in the silence of the room that it made Derek’s head spin. Basil shoved at him until they were lying side by side, facing each other, and Basil had a hand around both their dicks.

  Derek reached behind him, a fumbling hand until he got his nightstand drawer open and pulled out the lube. It was barely used—his night anxiety making it difficult to rub one out successfully and he’d stopped trying a long time ago. But that was the furthest thing from his mind right then. When he slicked his palm and coated both their cocks, all he could think about was Basil touching him again.

  He didn’t have to wait long as a warm palm closed around him and began a furious rhythm. His stomach clenched, balls already going tight with anticipation, and it was all he could do to reciprocate. Basil carefully grabbed him by the wrist and tugged his hand over his hip, down between his cheeks, and Derek’s breath stuttered in his throat as he realized what Basil was asking for.

  He looked down at Basil’s eyes, almost all pupil, mouth slightly open, cheeks red as he panted and thrust his hips back against Derek’s hand. ‘Please,’ he mouthed.

  Derek circled one finger around his hole as he felt Basil thrust their dicks together, the sensation almost distracting. But he wanted this to be good for the other man, wanted to give him every single reason and more to come back, to do this again and again until they simply became part of each other’s lives without wondering if this time was the last time.

  He pushed the tip of his first finger inside Basil’s impossibly tight hole, and Basil let out a deep, heavy moan, his body vibrating with it. He fucked himself backward, Derek’s finger slipping in even deeper, and Derek felt his orgasm starting to crest. His dick throbbed, and Basil’s hand tightened over him, stroking faster.

  “I’m,” Derek said aloud. Basil’s eyes were frantically moving between Derek’s cock and his mouth, like he didn’t want to miss a second of anything. “I’m,” Derek said again.

  Basil nodded, and sped up, and fucked against Derek’s hand until suddenly Derek’s vision whited out and his mouth opened in a silent cry. His entire body seized, pleasure shooting from his core, into every limb, making him go almost numb for a second as he felt himself spilling and spilling over Basil’s hand.

  He came back to himself in fits and bursts, realizing he’d somehow managed to slip two fingers inside of Basil now, and was fucking him with a slow rhythm as Basil stroked his own cock. Derek’s eyes fixed down at the motion, unable to look away. He saw the tension rising in Basil, the way the muscles in his arms bulged, looking up to see the pulse in his neck beating against the skin.

  Basil groaned again, and then huffed, then cried out louder than Derek expected to hear as he fell back and came. He splattered his stomach with it, the dark curls going sticky and off-white, and his hand slowed down, knuckles a mess from the both of them.

  Derek’s breathing began to return to normal as he gently pulled himself out of Basil’s ass and laid his hand flat on the mattress. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, overwhelmed with the sensation to kiss Basil, to hold him, to keep him there because he’d had this now and he didn’t want to lose it. He couldn’t. It would wreck him.

  He became aware of the silence in the room, nothing more than the soft breathing between them, and the gentle hum of electricity somewhere in the front room of the apartment. Derek was still frozen in his position, halfway over Basil, staring down at him when Basil’s dark eyes came open and their gazes locked.

  After a moment, Basil’s mouth stretched into a grin. ‘Hey,’ he mouthed.

  Derek couldn’t help it. His head fell into the crook of Basil’s neck and he laughed, the sound far too loud for him right then, but he was helpless against it. Happiness was flooding through him, and he knew logically it had everything to do with the orgasm, but it also had to do with the fact that for the first time, a moment like this felt right, and good. He laid several open-mouthed kisses to the warm crook of Basil’s neck simply because he couldn’t help it.

  When he pulled back, Basil was watching him, a small grin still turning his lips up. He lifted his clean hand to Derek’s face and brushed his hair back, dragging his fingers down his nose, scratching at his stubble. He went lower, to the ink on his shoulder, tracing the old, slightly faded lines of the face on his left shoulder.

  Derek gently fell onto his back, Basil following him, propping up on his elbow to watch him. He didn’t stop touching, his finger now tracing the word etched along his forearm. Sinner.

  When their eyes locked, Basil raised his hand. ‘Why?’ he signed. ‘Gay?’ He signed the word, thumb and forefinger touching his chin before he spelled it to make sure Derek understood.

  Derek shook his head. ‘No.’ He considered it, then spelled, ‘Irony.’ He struggled, but he wanted Basil to understand him. ‘My father,’ he began in painfully slow motions, ‘hated me. Everything about me was bad.’

  ‘No,’ Basil told him, his face going stony.

  Derek shook his head. ‘I know. Now, I know. But when I was a kid, he said I was bad. He hated me. Hated this,’ he tapped his hand over his heart, then at his temple. ‘My mind. Hated where I came from. Hated my mother. Jewish,’ he spelled.

  Basil swallowed thickly. ‘Jewish,’ he spelled, then offered the sign and pointed to himself.

  ‘My father was catholic,’ he told him. ‘Just one more thing to hate me for. He said I was born a sinner. So, I took that identity back.’ He brushed his hand down along the word. It had been a long time since he hated himself for what he was, a long time since he’d let himself believe anything his father had told him. He didn’t love his PTSD, or his sleepless nights, or moments when he was so overwhelmed with his brain that he couldn’t leave the house. But he didn’t hate himself.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ Basil told him.

  Derek flushed, which felt ridiculous considering what they’d just done. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry my signing is slow.’

  Basil shook his head, a fierce look coming over his face. ‘No. I want you to understand how much this meant to me.’

  Derek blinked, letting Basil go over the signs again and again until he understood. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’re doing this. You don’t want more from me. You don’t want my voice,’ Basil replied.

  Derek felt his stomach clench, wanted to find the guy who had made Basil feel this way and beat him until he was unrecognizable. He took a breath, then shrugged. ‘Your voice,’ he signed, then reached out and touched Basil’s hands. ‘I like this voice.’

  Basil’s eyes shined, and he didn’t smile, but he leaned in and kissed Derek for far, far more than he was worth.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Basil was at the little Mexican restaurant mostly to escape his sister, and because the owner knew some rudimentary ASL from when his aunt had lived there. The one thing he could appreciate was the older shops, those who had been in the community for a while, knew how to talk to him at least a little. It was a reminder that his aunt had made some impact on this place, and maybe if he stuck around, he’d make some difference, too.

  It didn’t mean he didn’t miss DC, or his Deaf friends, or knowing where exactly to go to be surrounded by his people and his language. But he was starting to feel less apart, less isolated, and that meant something.

  He picked a table far from the window just in case Amaranth came looking for him—and it wasn’t that he was ashamed, but he was still processing and trying to understand exactly what it was he was feeling for Derek without her smug look and constant teasing about him finally
getting laid. He understood she meant well, but she didn’t understand what it had cost him to finally cross that line, even if it felt more of a relief than a fear or burden.

  As he studied the condensation on his glass of water like maybe it held the secrets of the universe, a hand in his periphery caught his attention. He glanced up and noticed a man standing there—vaguely familiar, though maybe it was just the fact that he was covered in tattoos that made him seem like they’d met before. He was holding a small baby in the crook of his arm, and Basil immediately recognized her as the one Derek and Sage had been taking around town.

  ‘Hi,’ the man signed. ‘I’m Tony. I work with Derek.’ His signs were slower, but more fluid than Derek’s.

  Basil smiled at him. ‘Do you want to sit?’

  Tony looked a little hesitant, but he turned his head and said something to the hostess who brought over another menu and a small highchair for the little girl.

  ‘Are we interrupting?’ Tony asked once Basil had looked up again.

  Basil smiled, shaking his head. ‘Lunch break. You?’

  ‘Off work today. Baby,’ he said, and reached over to tickle his daughter’s cheek. She gave a laugh, her feet kicking, cheeks plump with her grin. ‘My wife and I switch.’

  Basil considered him for a minute. ‘Your signing is good.’

  ‘It’s slow,’ Tony countered, ‘but we’re on level three now. I want to be fluent before she develops more complex language.’

  The fact that he was using ASL—properly, the grammar, the flow, even if some of his signs were a little archaic—meant he was dedicated, and it made something happy twist in Basil’s gut. One more child being taught that the way she was born wasn’t wrong, even if it was different from her mom and dad.

  ‘She’ll thank you,’ Basil told him.

  Tony grinned, his entire demeanor going soft as he looked at her. Basil had seen that look before—his own parents loved him that much and fuck, he missed them. It also made something ugly rise in his chest, because he was pretty sure no one had ever looked at Derek like that. Not once.

  ‘Derek was smiling when he came into work today. He wouldn’t tell me why, but I have a feeling I know,’ Tony told him.

  Basil licked his lips and debated about keeping it a secret, but he thought about all the ways Derek had been forced to keep himself a secret from the world. His formative years had been shoved into a box and locked away, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that, even if this ended up being nothing. ‘You’re probably right. We had a good time last night.’

  ‘He said you went to his apartment,’ Tony said, and there was a look of significance in his face that Basil didn’t understand. His confusion must have been apparent, because Tony went on, ‘He doesn’t let people in his apartment. Only Sam, sometimes Sage. No one else.’

  That hit Basil like a physical blow. He didn’t understand Derek’s trauma—not completely, not the way he wished he did—but he could understand the impact of Tony’s statement. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  Tony smiled. ‘Don’t let it put pressure on you. He won’t break if it doesn’t work out. I just want you to know that it meant something to him.’

  ‘I know,’ Basil told him, because that, at least, he was aware of. There was no other way to interpret the way Derek talked to him after, and the way he held him. There was no way to misinterpret the gentle love-making in the morning, or the shower, or the sweet way he poured him shitty cereal and made stale coffee in his tiny six-cup coffee maker. It was something more than a fling, and not quite love, but it could get there if he let it.

  ‘He’s serious about you,’ Tony said. ‘It might not seem like it, he’s shy and scared, but he’s trying. He would have taken sign for Jasmine eventually, but you made him want it more.’

  Basil absently rubbed his fingers over his tattoo and considered what that meant, too. ‘He makes me want to try.’

  ‘May I?’ Tony asked, then pointed at Basil’s arm. Basil offered it up, and didn’t flinch when Tony brushed his thick, calloused fingers over the design there. ‘It’s not finished.’

  Basil couldn’t help his laugh, mostly in wonder at how all the artists at the shop seemed to just instinctively know it wasn’t finished. ‘No, not yet.’

  Tony grinned at him. ‘It’s beautiful. It suits you.’

  Basil felt himself blush because it did, but it was strange to have someone else notice it and understand it without really knowing him as a person. Then he realized if this worked out, if he and Derek made something of all this, Tony eventually would know him. Just like the others would, because they were Derek’s family. The thought caused a slight rise in his anxiety, because they were all hearing. Tony and Katherine knew sign for their daughter, and most of the others knew how to understand the few things the baby wanted, but that was it. And he didn’t see the same drive in them that Derek had. There was no motivation to try.

  And the thought of that level of communication barrier made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He didn’t want to speak, he never would want that, but he’d lived that life before. And maybe they wouldn’t be cruel the way Chad and his friends had been, but there would be a wall between them, and he couldn’t cross it on his own.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Tony asked.

  Basil affected a smile. ‘Fine,’ he lied. It was probably obvious—he was shit at hiding the truth from his face—but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it just yet. Not with this man he hardly knew, and not without knowing what the future held for him and Derek.

  Derek: Any chance you want to change our lesson into a date? My last appointment should be done around four, and I was thinking we could go into Denver and have dinner. We can work on restaurant signs, then make out in my car.

  * * *

  Basil: Blushing.

  * * *

  Derek: Is that a yes?

  * * *

  Basil: I’m work close but maybe after. Close tonight eight.

  * * *

  Derek: What food do you feel like eating? I’ll make us a reservation.

  * * *

  Basil: You decides. Surprise me good thing.

  * * *

  Derek: Prepare to be blown away. Then maybe just blown.

  Basil jumped away from the counter when he felt his sister smack his side, and he realized she’d been reading over his shoulder. His face blushed so hot he felt a little dizzy and he pulled his phone away from her.

  ‘Dirty,’ she signed, waggling her brows.

  ‘Do you mind?’ he demanded, his hands slapping together in more embarrassment than anger.

  ‘I’m happy for you. Finally you’re getting laid!’ She moved to the side of the counter where she was working on trimming one of their rose deliveries and she picked up her sheers with one hand. ‘I like him.’

  Basil bit his lip and rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, taking a breath for strength. ‘Me too, but I don’t…I don’t know.’

  Setting the shears down, she leaned on the counter. ‘Don’t ruin it before it starts. I like him, and you like him.’

  Basil pursed his lips. ‘All his friends are hearing. His family. The whole shop is hearing.’

  ‘The owner’s baby is deaf,’ she pointed out. ‘Her mom and dad both know sign. Your boyfriend is learning sign with classes. Not even YouTube, but real classes, with a real Deaf teacher.’

  Basil’s stomach twisted, because it was true, but it didn’t mean there weren’t problems with the whole situation. ‘The people he works with are his family. He loves them, he relies on them. They don’t sign, and I don’t want to speak.’

  She gave him a flat look. ‘No one is going to make you speak.’

  ‘They don’t sign, Amaranth. They know baby sign language, and I want more than that.’

  She walked around the counter and put both hands on his shoulders, turning him to face her and let their gazes connect for a long time. He was overwhelmed for a second by just how much she looked like their father—the
dimple in her chin, the cut of her jaw, the almond shape to her eyes. Her hair held the same curl, a slight frizz in the humidity of spring which framed her face.

  He missed his parents and wondered what either one of them would tell him about Derek. They had never cared he was gay, but they hated the idea of Chad, and he never got the chance to ask if it was because they could just tell he wasn’t a good guy, or because they thought Basil should stick to someone in his own community. His aunt had been cut off for assimilating, and even Amaranth had gone months without speaking to them when she had chosen to speak, to attend a hearing school over a deaf one, whenever she brought hearing boys home.

  Would they tell him to give it up—that although Derek was a nice boy, it wasn’t enough? And if they did, would he have done it?

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she told him.

  Basil blinked at her, feeling his eyes get a little wet. ‘No you don’t.’

  ‘Yes,’ she countered. ‘And mom and dad would love him. They’d want to wrap him up tight and chase the pain in his eyes far away. I know they were angry at Aunt Rachel for her choices, but they got over it. And I think it was a lot more than Uncle Rick.’

  Basil had long since assumed, but all four of them had died before he got the chance to ask, and he could never be sure. And really, did he want to live his life on a hypothetical answer he could never confirm? Because in the end, his parents were dead. Wherever they were, he liked to think they just wanted to see him happy.

  ‘Go on your date tonight and stop thinking so much,’ she told him. ‘Let yourself be happy. Derek can make you happy.’

  Basil bowed his head, but nodded, because he didn’t have any plans to turn Derek down, no matter what his parents might have wanted. It still weighed on him, probably always would. The idea of being with Derek made this town feel a little more permanent, and it was in that moment he realized a small piece of him had always planned on going home. Except DC was starting to feel a lot less like home the more time passed.