Drawing Closer (16 page)

"Don't come."

He made an inarticulate sound that wasn't meant to be a word and stayed still as Charles fucked

his mouth until he was left with nothing to do but wait for a final command to swallow that came

after Charles had pulled out, his hand caressing Gray's hair with a restlessness that was oddly

comforting.

It hadn't been enough for Charles, either. Gray liked that.

When he'd swallowed, brushed his teeth hard, and dressed, when they were walking down to his

grandmother's house, he risked a sidelong glance at Charles. "I still get tied up later, right?

Because I wanted that."

"You got it."

"What?"

Charles smiled, lifting a hand to wave at another neighbor out walking their dog. "Hands behind

your back, Gray. Keep them there until Beatrice answers the door."

"What? God. I can't…"

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"Yes, you can."

Walking like that and trying to look like it was normal was really difficult. The instant renewal of

his erection didn't help.

"See?" Charles said, still smiling. "You're tied. You're bound."

"That's so very fucking philosophical of you," Gray snarled.

They turned into Beatrice's yard and Charles fell back a step. Gray felt a gentle pat on his ass.

"Get us out of here in one piece and I'll make the cuffs less metaphorical and more metal."

"It's a deal."

Charles reached past him and rapped on the door, his other hand slipping between Gray's crossed

wrists and parting them.

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"Drew?" Charles gave his friend a puzzled smile and stepped back, allowing him to come into the house. "I didn't know you were in town; is there a book fair on or something?"

"A book fair?" Drew shuddered. "Picked-over remnants laid out on tables for every sticky-

fingered illiterate to paw at?"

"If they were illiterate, they wouldn't be there," Charles pointed out, heading for the glasses and the whiskey. If Drew was dropping by unannounced -- which had to be more than a whim as he

lived a two-hour drive away -- it called for a drink.

Rudegar took one look at Drew, licked a paw disdainfully and applied it to his ear and then

walked out of the room.

"Thank God your cat can take a hint." Drew sat down on the couch with a satisfied sigh, rubbing his neck. "God, the traffic gets worse every time I visit. I end up hunched over the wheel cursing; it does nothing for my karma or my neck muscles."

"Did you take your allergy pill? Because that's Rudegar's favorite spot. Or should I get you a box

of tissues?"

Drew waved a dismissive hand. "Medicated up to the gills; it's pollen season. I'll be fine."

"Is it?"

"When Margaret fills the house with experiments for her flower-arranging class it is, yes."

"So you don't want a drink?"

"I didn't say that."

Charles held the tumbler out of reach. "If you're driving…"

"I'm not. I'm staying. Unless you had plans for the night?"

"Staying here?" Charles handed Drew the drink. "You never stay here. Not that you're not

welcome, of course."

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"Thanks." Drew toasted him and took a healthy gulp. "Sure I won't be in the way? Just for tonight, of course; don't worry."

"I wasn't, and, yes, it's fine." Thinking he knew what Drew was trying to be tactful about,

Charles smiled. "I'm not seeing Gray tonight."

"Pity."

"What?"

"It was him I wanted to see."

"Why?"

Drew grinned at him. "The erudite, eloquent professor reduced to monosyllables?"

"Yes. Spit it out; what do you want to talk to him about?"

"So polite a request." Drew took another gulp. "Don't we do small talk any more?"

Charles sat down in the chair across from Drew with his own drink and grimaced. "Sorry. How

are you? And Margaret; is she--?"

"We're all well and happy and that's enough of the meaningless chitchat for now."

"You're in one of your mercurial moods, aren't you?" Charles murmured, resigning himself to the role of calming Drew down. He didn't get like this often, but when he did, he was unpredictable

to say the least.

"I'm just basking in the reflected glory, the same way you will be."

"Drew, I love you like a brother. At least, I never had one but I'm sure I would have felt like

throwing things at him, too."

"I'm here asking a favor. Not for me, so don't say no automatically; this is for Margaret."

"Well, I'm certainly curious now, but if you don't get on with it…"

"She wants Gray to donate a painting to the charity auction she's organizing next month; you

know, the annual fundraiser for children with learning disabilities."

"And?"

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"There is no and."

"Fine; but why involve me?" Charles felt genuinely baffled by it all. It was something he was sure Gray would be happy to do but Margaret had enough connections to be able to get donations

from established, even well-known artists; Gray was off her radar. Way off it.

"I'm not involving you; I just wanted to see what you thought about it before I approached him.

You know Margaret; she gets so worked up over this event and if he turned me down, I'd suffer

for weeks. You're my inside information; my secret weapon."

"Well, I think he'd be honored," Charles said, shrugging, not seeing a problem. "I'm sure he's got something finished that would be suitable and I'd be happy to pay for it to be framed; you know

I usually contribute something to the charity." He met Drew's eyes. "She liked the painting you bought that much?"

"It's good," Drew assured him. "I hung it in the house and it's created quite a buzz with some of our friends."

"Really," Charles said blankly. He'd gone back to the gallery and taken a look at it before it had been shipped away and he'd liked it a lot, but he wasn't sure how much of his reaction was based

on his feelings for Gray and he didn't have the expertise necessary to judge it from a technical

standpoint.

"You don't have a clue about it, do you?" Drew said kindly. "Never mind, my little Philistine; get Gray to take a break from cooing sweet nothings in your ear and give you a quick Art

Appreciation 101 some time."

"He doesn't coo." Charles eyed Drew. "No nicknames for him now you want a favor? I see."

"I'll call him anything he wants if he gives me something good," Drew said cheerfully. "And no, I don't want an early daub, thank you; this auction gets a lot of publicity; he'll want to send

something in that represents the best he can do."

"I hadn't thought about that," Charles admitted.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Drew shook his head. "This could do his career a lot of good, Charles."

"Or blast his self-confidence if no one bids for it."

"Won’t happen."

"It could."

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"Well, aren't you in a positive mood." Drew presumed on years of friendship and stood up,

refilling his glass and topping up Charles'. "What's wrong? Things not going well between you

two?"

"They're going very well."

"Did you just smirk knowingly?" Drew demanded. "Spare me."

"No, I didn't!" Charles protested, wondering if he had. Thinking about Gray made him happy,

certainly, so it was possible he'd smiled, but smirked? Really. As if he would…

"You're doing it again."

"Oh, shut up!" Charles went to the phone. "I'll call him, get him to come over if he's free. He might be out with Carl."

"The blond bodyguard?"

Charles laughed. "Something like that, yes. I think I've won him over."

"Along with the boy's parents and grandmother?" Drew's mouth pursed up in an admiring smile.

"You really are a charmer, aren't you?"

"Beatrice is fine with it but I think his parents are a little ambivalent," Charles admitted. "They're out of the country; I've only spoken to them on the phone. They live in a cottage in Provence

most of the year; the apartment Gray lives in is theirs and he rents it from them."

"Inconvenient when they come back?"

"I think they stay at a hotel -- Gray? Hi. It's Charles… Yes, I'm fine, how are you? Look, Drew's

here and he's got something he wants to discuss with you -- yes, it'd be easier if you came here, if

you're not… Right. See you soon. What? No. Behave."

Charles put the phone down firmly while Gray was still talking as he was damned if he was going

to be coaxed into saying anything personal with Drew listening, and turned to his friend. "Well?

Am I smiling now?"

"No, but you were the whole time you were speaking to him. A fatuous, besotted one," Drew

told him. "Positively sickening."

"Oh, God."

Drew chuckled heartlessly. "Oh, Charles, Charles… what
has
he done to you?"

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Which was a good question without a good answer.

***

sofa, one hand stroking Rudegar, who was across both their laps, pinning them in place, the other

tucked in under Charles' arm. Drew had left them, pleading exhaustion, at eleven, and gone to bed,

and Gray, murmuring unconvincingly that he'd better go soon, had done nothing of the sort.

"I think my leg's gone to sleep and I feed this cat far too much."

"Seriously."

"It's a good cause and possibly some nice publicity; if you don't mind the investment of time, I

can't see a problem." A thought occurred to him. "Alise. This isn't something you have to clear with her, is it?"

"What? Oh… no." Gray shook his head, rolling it in the hollow of Charles' shoulder. "She got a cut on what I sold at the show but that's it. I don't have an agent."

"Maybe you should get one."

"Maybe." Gray didn't sound very interested. "I've been thinking about what to paint for the auction."

"Already?"

"You and Mr. Taylor--"

"He hears you calling him that and he'll tear you limb from limb. It's Drew."

"Fine. Drew. You were talking. A lot. It gave me time to think."

"I'm sorry." Charles dropped a repentant kiss on Gray's ear. "We had some catching up to do. I didn't mean to exclude you."

"It's okay." Gray's hand moved with a slow certainty over Charles' chest, the warmth of it

sinking through his shirt and dissipating far too quickly. "Like I said, I know what I'm going to

do. It's good."

"What is it?"

"You'll see." Gray smiled at him. "Think Drew's asleep?"

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"Gray--" Charles protested. It wasn't that he didn't want to and Drew was certainly well aware of what he and Gray did but it seemed rude to fuck right under his room and make him listen to

them.

And he wouldn't put it past Drew to hammer on his floor and their ceiling and tell them to get on

with it for the love of God because he was trying to sleep.

"Wasn't expecting to see you tonight," Gray whispered, licking around the edge of Charles' ear, his tongue wet and warm and sinful. "Blew Carl off when we were supposed to go to the movies

and then a bar, so he's pissed at me. And I'm happy about the auction and all that, but hey, it'd be

nice if you made it up to me."

"Because you're so concerned about Carl's feelings?" Charles snorted. "Right."

Gray's answering smile was impish. "Letting him down like that crushed me, Charles. And it was

a really good movie, or so Carl said. Explosions and car chases and beautiful, big-breasted chicks.

I need comforting, big time."

Charles rolled his eyes, swatting Gray's hand away as it tried to undo his shirt buttons. "No. You

need something I can't give to you because it would make too much noise."

Gray picked up an indignant Rudegar and dropped him unceremoniously to the floor, then sat

across Charles' lap, his hands gently kneading Charles' shoulders. He wriggled his backside

meaningfully. "Hold that thought, because yeah, I could go for that."

"Oh, trust me, I'm scheduling you in at the earliest opportunity." Charles pulled Gray in for a kiss, loving the way Gray's mouth felt against his, the heat building between one touch and the

next, deep, appreciative murmurs punctuating the slip and slide of their tongues.

"I can be quiet," Gray whispered. "Want your mouth on me, Charles. Want you sucking me."

"God…" Charles swallowed, already anticipating it. Making Gray lose control was the simplest

thing in the world when you had his cock in your mouth. Charles was sure he wasn't the first to

find that out, but he didn't really care about that. He wanted the ache in the back of his throat

from dealing with Gray fucking his mouth in fierce, sharp jabs, going so deep, too deep, so that

Charles would have to pin him down, his fingers digging into Gray's hips, leaving marks he'd

spend long minutes looking at afterwards as they lay entwined, sweaty and sated.

Reality kicked in. "You'll be howling after thirty seconds."

Gray looked indignant. "Hello? I can keep quiet if I have to; I've just never had to before."

"Well, you have to now, and I don't trust you," Charles hissed back. He should just kiss Gray

good night and kick him out. Jerk off -- and yes, he could be quiet about that -- and go to sleep.

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He just didn't want to.

"I don't trust me, either," Gray admitted. He bit Charles' neck, the small, sweet pain triggering a shiver that left Charles resigned to the inevitable.

Damn Gray for being so… persistent, anyway.

"Gag me."

Charles shrugged. "Okay."

"Just like that?"