Frat Boy and Toppy (19 page)

Brad didn’t go to the library. He hiked out to the organic garden plot on the edge of campus and weeded peas. It was coolish, but warm enough that he had to take off his sweatshirt. The sun kept breaking through the clouds, and the ground was soft for weeding.

For the first hour or so, he was the only one there, but then Professor Harris came out to check on something. When Brad waved at her, she left the greenhouse to talk to him.

“Hi Brad.” She smiled. She always smiled.

“Hey, Professor Harris.”

She huffed softly at him. “How many times have I asked you to call me Helen? We shovel manure together once a week, you can call me by my first name.”

He shrugged and kept hacking at weeds. She smiled again; he could feel it in the air. She changed the subject, though. “What are you doing this summer?”

“Um, I don’t know.” He stopped and leaned on his hoe. “Guess I’ll move home and get a job.” What was Sebastian doing this summer? If he stayed here, Brad could see him sometimes, but if Sebastian went home to Colorado . . .

Sebastian hadn’t said anything to him. Or asked Brad what he was doing over the summer.

“How about you stay here and work for me?”

Brad focused on her, startled. “What?”

“It doesn’t pay very much, but I need an aide for summer term. You’d be taking care of the garden, mostly.”

Brad looked around. It was an acre, at least. It would keep him pretty freaking busy. “Don’t you have to be a grad student to be an aide?”

She huffed again. “Family Sciences doesn’t have grad students. I get to pick the upperclassman I like the most and who I know will work hard.” She smiled even wider at him. “And you get to keep a lot of the produce. I’ll even let you take the Master Preserver Certification class for free.”

“Seriously?” Brad’s heart leapt. Call him weird, but he loved to pickle vegetables and can sauce. If he were a master preserver, he could do tons of stuff. He could teach community ed classes in food preservation. He could even sell his sauces at farmers’ markets if he wanted.

Which he hadn’t actually been aware he wanted to do, but right now he wanted it so bad he could taste it. It tasted like the perfect combination of vinegar, dill, garlic, and spices. Oh, yeah, and he could work on that pickling spice blend he’d started to perfect last summer in his mom’s kitchen. It had almost no allspice, because Brad thought it was too overpowering, so he—

“Brad?”

“Huh?”

“So, whadaya think?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ll do it, Helen.”

Brad didn’t tell Sebastian he was going to be on campus over the summer when he went over that night. He was waiting for the right time. They watched some dumb movie after Paul and Toby had left, but it was really just an excuse to lie on the couch and make out. Which led to other things, of course.

Sunday morning didn’t seem to be the right time, either.

Or Monday or Wednesday, when Brad showed up all sweaty. There seemed to be a direct relationship between how sweaty he was when he showed up and how fast they got it on.

Friday morning Brad couldn’t wait anymore; he needed to get it out. Sebastian might not even care, but . . . Brad cut his run short and headed over to Sebastian’s early. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs to Sebastian’s door, sweaty, hands on hips, letting his breath slow down—working up his nerve—when he heard the door open.

“Hey! I must be late,” Toby’s voice drifted down from the top of the stairs. When Brad looked, he could just make him out in the shadows up there. “Is it the Frat Boy and Toppy hour already?” Toby walked down the stairs, smiling at Brad.

“Hey, Toby. I’m early.” Toby’s eyes held a smirk when he said it, but he refrained from commenting on Brad’s eagerness.

“Didn’t think I was late. But Paul’s gonna be if he doesn’t hurry up.” Translation: beware of attack roommate.

“Oh, goody. Frat Boy’s here.” Paul’s nasty voice. Right on cue. Lovely. Brad closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Your master is on the phone with his sister,” Paul snarked, coming down the stairs.

Toby rolled his eyes and said to Brad in a much nicer voice, “Just go on up. He’s about to get off.”

“Oh, we all know that’s the truth,” Paul said sweetly.

Brad gritted his teeth and didn’t punch him. Paul must have seen it in his face, though, because he shut up and marched off.

“Sorry,” Toby said. “I’ve had about enough of him, so I guess you’re way past that, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Toby clapped him on the shoulder. “Just go up, dude.”

When Brad walked in the door, Sebastian had the phone in his hand, but he’d obviously just hung up. “Hey, honey!” Sebastian said, smiled broadly and walking over to Brad, looking up those couple inches into Brad’s eyes.

Brad chickened out again. He knew what the problem was: he was scared Sebastian wouldn’t care. When Sebastian brought his head down, Brad let him because then he didn’t have to say anything and find out how Sebastian really felt.

He attempted to man up, though, while Sebastian kissed him, walking him from the door to the couch. He tried to get himself to stop everything and tell Sebastian. It wasn’t even that big a deal, right? Just,
Oh, hey, I got a job on campus this summer.

He could have said it without interrupting anything while Sebastian was yanking off their clothes, or at least the necessary ones. Or when Sebastian pushed him down on the couch and just stood looking at him for a few seconds.

It might have stopped their momentum, though. Then they wouldn’t be grinding naked against each other now, sealed together from lips to hips. Sebastian’s hard cock against Brad’s belly, Brad’s against his thigh. Now Brad was fighting
not
to say something. Like, “I love you.” Because he really didn’t want to know Sebastian’s reaction to that. And he really didn’t want to say it like this, during sex, when Sebastian could blame it on the moment and ignore it.

When he came, shooting against Sebastian’s skin and tangling in his wet leg hairs, shouting wordlessly to keep from saying the wrong thing, he realized where his priorities lay. What he needed to say to Sebastian first. Because he might not want to know what Sebastian thought about how he felt, but he needed to know.

Sebastian fell on him, and Brad held him even though his muscles felt too weak. Long after their breathing had returned to normal, Sebastian was stroking his hair, naked chest against Brad’s, cum gluing them together.

Sebastian kissed Brad’s temple. Brad held him tighter and stroked his hand up and down Sebastian’s back. Shut his eyes and just felt the happy stuff for now. He needed to hang on to this a while longer.

Eventually they had to move. They took a shower, all steam and hands stroking and petting, cleaning each other silently. Brad wrapped Sebastian in his arms and held him for a long time, standing in the spray.

They had a while before Brad had to leave, and they ended up in bed, cuddling, half-dressed.

Sebastian leaned over the side of the bed, looking for some socks. He heard Brad rustle around, sit up against the headboard. Then Brad took his hand, and he stopped and rolled to face him.

“Should I come back tonight?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Brad looked apprehensive. “I want you to, honey.” Sebastian squeezed his hand.

“Tonight’s the last rush party, but I can skip it. But tomorrow night we induct the new pledges, and all the brothers should be there.”

Sebastian reached up for a quick kiss, then leaned over the side of the bed again, taking his hand back. He’d had the damn socks earlier; where did they go? “Probably better, really, hon. I was running out of numbers to bribe Paul with. He’s got plans tonight, though.”

“Huh?”

Damn it
. “I’ve been bribing Paul with the numbers of guys I’ve met to keep quiet about you.” His heart beat a little harder, annoyed with him for letting that slip.

Brad moved around again. “You have?”

Sebastian couldn’t read anything in his tone. “Is that all right?” he asked softly, turning to see him again. Brad looked at him a moment. He rolled onto his back when Brad didn’t answer right away.

Brad played with the sheet on his lap instead. “I know you’ve been with a lot of guys, Sebastian.”

“Yeah?” Sebastian asked carefully. Somehow, a lot of those guys seemed pretty colorless now. Hell, all of them.

“I mean, I heard rumors.” Brad shrugged and met Sebastian’s eyes “I guess some of it could just be talk, like with me and girls.”

Why did Sebastian want to wrap Brad up in his arms and kiss him until he smiled whenever he got all insecure like this? It was a mystery. “I think I’ve probably been with a lot more guys than you have girls.” He flinched when he said it, but he couldn’t lie to Brad.

“Yeah.” Brad let out a disgusted-sounding breath. “But I probably lied to more girls than you have guys.”

“It’s easier with guys, hon. For one thing, you can just tell them you aren’t looking for anything serious. If they don’t want to play, they don’t. Most of the time. Besides, the ones you meet in bars tend to be looking for a lot of the same thing.”

“So . . . when we met, were you looking for a relationship?”

Sebastian smiled at him, because Brad just made him smile. He reached up and brought Brad’s face around. “No, hon. But I found one.” Strange, but true.

Brad smiled suddenly, and it was mesmerizing. Like watching the sun come back again after a solar eclipse.

On Saturday morning, Brad woke up early and watched Sebastian sleep. He knew it was dorky and he tried to stop, but he couldn’t seem to look away. He’d done it last Saturday, too.

He was lucky. Really fucking lucky. He wanted to just stay here forever. But he had to get back to his room and do some laundry, as well as inventory the damned kitchen at the frat house and get ready for the stupid pledge ceremony.

He sighed. He’d rather be here with his boyfriend. Who seemed to be waking up. Just before he thought Sebastian was going to open his eyes, he rolled over and scooted backward into Sebastian’s body. He didn’t want to get caught staring at the shape of Sebastian’s jaw or his long eyelashes in the sunlight, but he could rub up on him some.

“Hey, honey.” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse. He yawned and stretched, then dropped an arm over Brad’s waist and pulled him in tight.

Brad smiled his by now customary goofy grin, looking out the window. “Morning.” He laced his fingers through Sebastian’s and brought his hand up to kiss it. He could feel Sebastian smiling into the back of his neck, then his lips when he kissed Brad on the shoulder.

They just lay around a while, Sebastian talking about his dissertation again. In spite of the fact that Brad had no clue what a Cycladic frying pan was—except for it not being a cooking implement—or why Sebastian’s theory that they were sacred musical instruments was so controversial, he loved listening to Sebastian talk about it. Sebastian didn’t seem to care that Brad wasn’t as smart as him, either.

After a while, Sebastian talked himself out, and they just cuddled, drowsing. Shifting around some, but always touching. Brad loved this. Lying here with Sebastian, he always felt so happy his skin probably glowed. Melting into Sebastian’s.