Drawing Closer (6 page)

dark hair, same size as me, but, like, twenty years older." Carl shrugged. "Guess he wasn't lying when he said he didn't go for your age group."

Misery rose in a choking flood as Gray spotted the man and saw him lean close to Charles and

murmur something in his ear that had Charles laughing up into his face, looking relaxed and

happy.

"Fuck." Gray took a deep breath and let it hiss out between gritted teeth, "Oh,
fuck
. Carl--"

"Right here, buddy, right here."

Drawing Closer - 32

He was grateful for the solid warmth of Carl beside him, his arm thrown across Gray's shoulders.

Not so grateful when Charles turned, saw him, smiled as if he couldn't help it -- God, he felt that

smile, felt it slam into him and take his breath away -- and then saw Carl.

Watching Charles' smile fade and being too far away to explain who Carl was -- and what he

wasn't -- was hell. Then the man with him touched Charles' arm, not even bothering to look over

at Gray, and the two of them were hidden by a couple walking in front of Gray and missing when

the couple had passed by.

Gray moaned and stepped forward, shaking off Carl's arm. "Oh, this is just too fucking much. He

comes here with a fucking
date
? What's he trying to do to me?"

"If it drives you crazy, I think we can safely say mission accomplished," Carl said. "Will you calm down? Please? You're here to sell your stuff, not get misty-eyed over someone who, for the

twentieth time, isn't fucking interested. Let it go."

"Go. Yeah. Good idea." Gray spun on his heel and headed toward the door. Carl grabbed at him

again. Okay, he was going to have bruises if this kept up.

"You're supposed to be here. Making nice to people."

All the artistic temperament in the world -- and Gray had plenty -- didn't excuse acting like an

asshole, and Gray rarely traded on the tortured artist card. Sometimes, though, it came in handy.

With a wide sweep of his arm he pointed at the paintings hung and beautifully lit on the pristine,

off-white walls. "They're for sale. I'm not." And then, cranking up to full-on diva and not caring, he ground out, "I want to be alone, Carl, okay?"

"No." Carl's face was flushed now and he looked stubborn as hell. "Alone to do what?"

"Christ! Sob, scream, punch a wall -- how the fuck do I know?"

A large hand came out and held his. "Not that last one. Promise me? Or I'll tag along."

Right. Artists didn't get to punch walls. Might make holding a brush difficult. He gave Carl a

grudging nod. "Won't. I promise. Now can I just go? Because I'm losing it here, and it won't be

pretty if I do."

"Sure." Carl cocked his head. "Want me to go flirt with your boss?"

"She's not my boss, and why the hell would you want to?"

Carl shrugged. "I don't. You're the one with a kink for the over-forties brigade, not me. Just

thought--"

Drawing Closer - 33

"He's thirty-two, for fuck's sake. Alise is pushing fifty." Gray shook his head, desperate to leave.

"Whatever. Do whatever, just -- leave me alone, okay? No coming back to my place tonight,

because I really need some space."

Hurt darkened Carl's eyes. "Hey, just trying to help get her off your back. Or didn't you notice

the way she's glaring at you?"

No. He hadn't noticed anything since he saw Charles.

Blindly pushing past people, he made for the door that led to the bathrooms, knowing there was

an exit there, too. The chatter and buzz from the showroom cut off abruptly as the door closed

behind him and he sighed, taking a shaky breath and pushing back his hair. He'd meant to get it

cut because it was driving him crazy the way it kept falling into his eyes, but it'd been a good

intention lost in the excitement of preparing for his first exhibition.

He'd taken three steps toward the exit when the door to the men's bathroom opened and the man

who'd been with Charles stepped out.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" He had a rumble of a voice, deep and soft, with a muted echo of an English accent flavoring it. "Young Lochinvar."

"What?" Gray hesitated, automatically trying to place the reference. "Sir Walter Scott.
What
?"

"Or was it Lancelot? Never mind; you probably had to be there," the man said. "I was favorably impressed by your location of a certain book, that's all, but now that we've met you don't look all

that heroic to me, I have to say."

"There wasn't anything heroic--" Gray felt the blood rise in his face. "Did he tell you what I said?" he demanded, remembering the fingers stroking his back and shuddering at the thought of

the two of them laughing at him. "Look, it was a fucking joke, okay? And I'd have cut down the

fucking roses for her anyway."

"Roses?" The man looked puzzled. "Are we out of legend and into fairy tales now?"

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Gray snarled. "Sorry, but I'm not laughing here."

"So touchy. Why?" Enlightenment flashed across his face. "Oh, God, no, lad. I didn't mean --

well, of course I didn't. Your talk of roses made me recall a rather lovely illustrated copy of the

Sleeping Beauty story, complete with the requisite thicket of briars for the hero to slash at,

sword in hand. Or, from what you say, pruning shears? Far more practical."

"Practical. Right." Gray sighed, giving up on getting a grip on the conversation. "Look, are we done here? Because in case you didn't notice, I was heading for the door marked 'out'."

Drawing Closer - 34

"Alone?"

The word caught him and held him in place.

"Yeah. Alone. Don't have much choice about that, do I?"

The man's eyes were watchful now. "Fell out with your boyfriend? That was fast."

"Do you ever make a single fucking bit of sense?" Gray shook his head as realization dawned.

"No. No way. Carl. You mean Carl."

"Tall, blond, wearing you like a scarf?"

"Friend since fucking
ever
, straight, and here to hold my hand because I threw up three times today I was so fucking nervous?" Gray sneered into that blank, wary face. "That Carl?"

"That would probably be the one." The man nodded and held out his hand. Gray stared at it and

he sighed and let it drop. "Drew Miller. Dealer in antiquarian books, known Charles for, hmm, six

years or so, and let's just say I have more in common with Carl than you when it comes to whom

I bed." He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Gray. Now if you'll excuse me, Charles is waiting in the car, about to take me somewhere to celebrate his birthday, if he knows what's good for him. He

wasn't in the best of moods, but who knows? That might change."

"It's his birthday?"

"Does that matter?"

"Not to me." Gray smiled savagely. "But if he didn't like being nine years older than me, I don't suppose he's wild about it jumping to ten."

"Now we both know that makes no sense," Drew said gently. "So let's not give it another

thought, shall we?"

"Tell him--"

"Do I look like Cupid?" Drew enquired, twisting to peer at his back. "No, no wings. I thought not. Tell him yourself."

"What car?"

"My rental. Silver sedan parked outside that revolting health food shop. Did I mention that I'm

here from New York for the night? And not stopping with Charles because his damn cat makes

me sneeze?"

Drawing Closer - 35

"Right."

Gray slammed his hand against the door, forcing it open and flinging it back. Drew was walking,

but he was running, feeling the sidewalk smack against his shoes and jar his body with every

step.

By the time he reached the car his breath was stuttering in his throat, hot and dry, but it didn't

matter. He yanked the car door open and leaned in, kissing Charles in what felt like one

continuous movement, all of it, coming to a halt only when their lips met. He kept it at a brief,

hard kiss because otherwise he'd have been moaning into it, melted and dizzy, and pulled back.

"Not my boyfriend, any more than Drew's yours," he said. "Happy fucking birthday, you

stubborn asshole."

Charles stared at him for the longest moment and Gray licked at his lips, wanting to capture the

taste of Charles while he could, waiting, because damn it, he couldn't say any more than that.

"Thank you," Charles said finally. "I--"

The driver's door opened and Drew got in. "Oh, be off with you, Charles. I'll find a fast-food

drive-thru and go to sleep belching and cursing your name."

"There's no need for that." Charles reached out and grabbed at Gray. "No. Don't go. Not yet." He looked dazed and Gray could understand that. "Gray -- I promised to feed him, and I don't break

my promises. Will you--"

"Do you know where I live?" Gray asked, staying still because Charles' hand was warm on his

arm, even through his shirt, and he didn't want to lose that warmth.

Charles nodded. "It was on your application for the course."

"I'll be there." Gray stood up reluctantly, his hand resting on the roof of the car, feeling the metal heat under his hand. God, he could melt the polar cap the way he felt right now.

He walked away quickly, not looking back, hearing the car door slam and the engine start.

Stopped when the hurried footsteps behind him came to a halt though.

"Thought you were going to feed him."

"He said it was an extra birthday present."

Their words met and clashed and then he was getting pressed up against a wall and Charles was

kissing him without holding back for the first time and Gray was lost.

Drawing Closer - 36

"You don't give up, do you?" Charles murmured against his throat, the words traveling along

every nerve-ending Gray had and leaving him clutching at Charles because his knees were about

to give way. Or maybe that was just his body hinting that horizontal would be good right now.

"When it's something I want? No. Why would I?"

Gray slid his hands inside Charles' jacket and stopped the next question from being asked, not

with a kiss, but with a look. Why, with Charles this close he wanted to stare at him instead of

kissing him, eyes closed, mouth open, cock hard, he didn't know, but looking was having pretty

much the same effect on his body as kissing, because Charles was... looking back.

Looking back, with worry clouding his eyes.

"No," Gray said. "Not tonight. My showing; your birthday. You can go back to ignoring me

tomorrow, if you want, but fuck me tonight?" Time for the magic word. "Hard?"

"Oh, why not?" Charles murmured. "Actually, forget I said that. Yes." He smiled. "So we go and you show me your etchings? Or do you want to come back to my house?"

"Whichever's closer," Gray said.

"Etchings it is."

Drawing Closer - 37

Within five minutes, both of them had stopped talking. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; they

were just concentrating on walking quickly. Which was an admirable goal, but meant that they

kept bumping arms and exchanging quick, hungry glances.

The third time it happened, Gray reached across and grabbed Charles' hand, linking their fingers

and stroking his thumbnail across Charles' palm. "I'm gonna come three steps past the front door,

I swear it. God, you're killing me here. Say something. Distract me."

Charles dealt with the image that had just been slotted into his head and said carefully, "What do

I do that makes you come that fast?"

"Exist?"

"Flattery. Nice."

"Truth."

Charles tilted his head back and stared up at a three-quarter moon, picturing Gray naked on a bed

with that luminous, unearthly glow spilling over his skin. "Perhaps I stop you taking a fourth

step by saying your name, making you turn to look at me."

"What do I see?"

The quickness of the reply, the way that Gray instantly followed his lead and began to play, was

reassuring and promising. Not unexpected, though; they'd sparred like this in class, and now,

looking back, Charles could admit to himself that although the words then had been innocuous,

the underlying tension had made them as sexually loaded as this conversation.

"What would you like to see?" So much to learn about each other. Even if it was just for a night, and he couldn't let himself think beyond that. "Me, leaning back against the door, taking out my

cock, ready for you to suck? Or me kneeling to take yours in my mouth?"

"You--" Gray halted them, still clutching Charles' hand and said tensely. "Stop. I can't --
Fuck
. I want you right the hell now, and we can't."

Charles looked around. The street was quiet enough, with no one close to them, but not empty,

Drawing Closer - 38

not this early, and there was nowhere off the street that looked private enough to take care of

them both. He said softly, "Tell me what you see."

He didn't move closer, but when Gray stepped forward, rubbing up against him frantically, his

free hand going around Charles' ass and holding him in place, he didn't move away, either.

"See you watching me." Gray's words were rough-edged and low. "Like you did in class. Won't take more than that and I'll be on my knees, coming for you, and you can do whatever the hell

you want with me after that."

"Come for me now." Charles' hands were at his side, his mouth barely touching Gray's ear as he whispered into it. "Walk by me wet and smelling of sex, still hard, and I'll do everything you ever wanted me to do."

Gray's head turned and he smiled, savage and bright. "You first."

Impossible not to laugh, or to fall just a little bit in love with someone this challenging.