Omorphi (7 page)

“What’s Christy short for? Christopher?” Michael asked as they crossed the field.

Christy nodded.

“What’s your last name?”

Christy released Michael’s hand and halted his steps to scribble, and Michael silently lamented the loss. He went to touch Christy’s ringlets and stopped midmotion. “Can I touch your hair?”

Christy looked up at him for a long moment and then nodded slowly.

Michael ran his fingers through the thick, white-gold waterfall that was Christy’s mane. The large ringlets stretched through his fingers, and only the curl kept it from reaching his waist. He’d never felt anything so plush and soft. He met Christy’s intense gaze and was pleased to see no fear in his eyes. “Your hair is incredible.”

Christy mouthed a shy “Thanks” as he held the pad up to reveal his last name.

Christy took Michael’s hand again, and they resumed their trek across the field. Holding Christy’s hand felt familiar somehow, soothing, and made Michael feel sort of… whole. Holding a girl’s hand had never made him feel this way. He flexed his fingers, giving Christy’s hand a gentle squeeze and was elated when Christy returned it.

“Christopher Castle,” Michael spoke the name softly. “Nice name.”

Christy shrugged.

“Well, Christopher Castle, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Michael Sattler and, so you know, I don’t usually kiss on a first date.”

Christy released his hand again and scribbled as he walked.
Okay
.

Michael laughed softly. “Glad you approve.” He led Christy to a bench just outside the gym door. “Wait here?”

Christy abruptly sat, placed his hands in his lap, and studied his fidgeting fingers. Michael couldn’t help but think something had gone wrong in the last three seconds. He squatted before Christy and rested a forearm on a knee, willing himself not to touch Christy. “You okay?”

A long moment passed before Christy met his eyes and nodded once. Michael dared to pet Christy’s soft curls as he stood. “See you in a few minutes.”

E
LATION
thrummed every fiber of Michael’s being, and excitement burst like bright fireworks in his mind. His nerves hummed with anticipation as he undressed at the speed of light. He felt electrified, euphoric, so freakin’ alive!
Man, a guy likes me! A guy!
He grabbed a towel, slammed the locker door, and jogged to the showers.

Soap, shampoo, soap again, conditioner, and soap a third time for good measure. He’d finally found a
boyfriend!
A gorgeous one. A smart one. A
sensitive
one. He whooped in the air. Embarrassed by the outburst, he prayed Christy hadn’t heard him.
Chill, Michael, chill.
He leaned his head back and let the water rain down on him. Christy’s “no touch” rule was a little weird, but he figured it was because of his… the abuse. He hated that word and everything it inferred. Anger ascended, and his protective instincts rose to the forefront again. Man, if he ever met the evil wretch who hurt Christy, he’d— He turned and was startled half out of his wits.

Christy watched him from ten feet away. Christy’s eyes perused Michael, and Michael was helpless to prevent his body’s reaction. He turned, quickly shut the water off, and wrapped the towel around his waist. Girls had wanted to date him, girls had been hot for him, and some girls just wanted him, period. What he saw in Christy’s eyes was like nothing he’d ever seen before. What he felt in return was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He’d bet his favorite trophy Miss Manners never covered a situation like this. He vacillated in indecision, having no idea what to do. He could stand there with his dick tenting his towel or he could get to his locker and get his ass dressed.

Gathering his courage and rearranging his towel, he went to Christy. The heated desire in Christy’s eyes had Michael’s body straining. Only girls had ever looked at him like that. Christy’s eyes roamed over his chest, and he raised a hand, placing fingertips to Michael’s wet skin. He slowly flattened his hand over Michael’s heart, a heart that beat so hard Michael thought it would fly from his chest.

Christy’s eyes met his again, searching, weighing, and choosing before he mouthed, “Want you.”

Michael licked his suddenly dry lips. “Did you…. Did you just say you want me?”

Christy nodded slowly.

Time ceased, utter silence descended, and something vital shifted within Michael. A water droplet trickled down his nose and fell with a silent splat on Christy’s arm.
What do I say? I want you too?
Only more than anything in the world
. “I’ve never….” His words trailed off, but a breath on the air.

The look in Christy’s eyes told Michael that Christy
had
.

The heat between them ratcheted at least a hundred degrees, and Michael’s hormones went into overdrive again. He needed to stop this, to walk away. This was too much, too soon, too fast. Dangerous. Risky. Foolish. And everything Michael wanted. Everything he’d ever dreamed of. He didn’t want the moment to end.
Turn and walk away! Now!
He managed a feeble, “We just met.”

Christy withdrew his hand, and Michael went to catch it, only remembering the “no touch” rule right before their hands connected. He let his hand fall away.

“Sorry,” Christy mouthed.

“Don’t be. It’s only that… well, we don’t really know each other.”

Christy scribbled
Know you. Good, honest, kind & smart.

Christy was so certain, and Michael wanted to… wanted to let Christy lead him…. He wanted to take the plunge, to learn, he wanted to be everything to someone he loved. “Thanks, but you don’t know those things for sure.”

Christy frowned, his crystalline eyes darkening to a rich cyan, and anguish filled his face. He scribbled
Don’t want me?

“Oh God, no, that’s definitely not it. It’s just… it’s just… too fast for me.”

The anguish in Christy’s eyes bled away to uncertainty again.

“Come on.” Michael led Christy to his locker as he tried to calm his racing heart and talk his totally, seriously,
insanely
out-of-control body out of its interest.

Christy straddled the bench and sat. Michael dried off and dressed as nonchalantly as he could. At one point, he simply had to stop moving and collect his thoughts. He wanted Christy, no doubt about it. He wanted to hold him, to know every part of him. He wanted Christy as he had no other before, but…. He’d seen porn movies at parties involving guys and girls, or two girls and a guy, even two guys and a girl. Christ, he’d even seen one with an orgy, but he knew absolutely nothing about making love.

When Michael closed the locker door and turned, he found Christy looking infinitely sad, and his heart sank. He straddled the bench and sat facing Christy. Close. Really close. Crazy, happily, perfectly close. He spread his arms and hoped Christy would come to him. Christy studied him, seconds ticked, and Michael waited.

As Michael began to feel like a barren tree, Christy leaned into him, tentative, and then rested his head on Michael’s shoulder. Daring to enfold Christy in his embrace, he thrilled when Christy’s arms encircled his waist.
I’m holding a guy for the first time in my life, and it feels wonderful!
He dared to bury his face in Christy’s soft mane and breathe him in. He smelled of soap, cucumber, watermelon, and his own brand of musk. He smelled good, and his fresh, clean smell became Michael’s new favorite scent. “Talk to me.”

Christy shook his head against Michael’s shoulder, a silent “nothing.”

“Come on, I know a pout when I see one.”

Christy straightened, and Michael’s hands slid down his sides. He couldn’t help but notice how thin Christy was as his hands came to rest on narrow, lean hips. Christy didn’t flinch or pull away.
Nice.

Christy withdrew his pen and pad and scribbled
You’re perfect
.

Michael had always considered himself rather generic. Standard version 18.0, all-American guy, no special features—average height at six feet, a sinewy 155 pounds, and maybe a better-than-average build, but not by much. He had green eyes and thick, dark curls, but so what? The only things Michael thought were cool about himself were his long eyelashes and his abs. He worked hard on his abs. Of course, right now, he wanted to get a haircut, inspect his complexion, and even his tan at the nearest fake ’n’ bake, all within the next ten seconds. “You’re pretty hot yourself.”

Christy made a face.

“Yeah, you are. You’re extremely hot.”

Christy scribbled
Small, skinny, weak. Pathetic
.

“No way. You’re the perfect size for holding, you’re gorgeous beyond reason, and I don’t see arm wrestling in our future, so I think we’re good to go.”

Now Christy smiled, and it stayed, laughter shining in his eyes. He scribbled again, paused after a few seconds to click the pen, and scribbled some more.

Michael read Christy’s words as he wrote, and an age-old ache returned with a vengeance.
Fess up, dude! You’re a virgin to all things boyfriend!
Michael cursed the little voice in his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I can answer all those questions at once. I’ve never dated a guy, so I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

Christy’s eyes went wide, and his mouth made a small O. He returned to his pad and scribbled furiously.

Michael read again. “The first question asks them all. Tell you what. Let’s get a veggie shake at The Radical Tuber, and I’ll answer that. I need to eat something after I run.”

Christy mouthed, “Sorry,” pocketed the pad and pen, and stood.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Michael stood and caught himself just before he brushed a hand over Christy’s soft ringlets again.

M
ICHAEL
led Christy to his SUV and opened the door for him. Christy set his backpack on the seat and put a foot on the running board. Michael laughed softly as Christy hopped twice, unable to get into the car. “Want some help?”

Christy nodded without looking at Michael.

Michael reached around Christy and put the backpack on the floor. “Put your foot down there on the board. Okay, now grab the handle up here. All right, can I put my hands on your hips?”

A long beat passed before Christy nodded.

Michael put his hands on Christy’s hips, hips that felt perfectly contoured to his hands. Michael breathed deeply, willing wild notions from his mind. Then Michael saw it. A small tuft of pink lace protruded a fraction above the waistband of Christy’s jeans.
Oh my God, he isn’t…. He can’t be…. He
is. Michael mentally stomped on his imagination and concentrated on the task at hand. “Don’t worry about stepping on the high running board. Pull yourself up with your arm and swing into the seat. On three. One, two, three.” Michael lifted as Christy swung in, landing perfectly in the seat.
Jeez, Christy couldn’t weigh a hundred pounds.

“Excellent.”

Christy motioned Michael back.

“What?”

Christy motioned again.

Michael stepped back, and Christy slid out of the car and dropped to his feet. Michael moved fast, catching him before he face-planted onto the pavement.

Christy wriggled out of Michael’s grasp at the speed of light and stepped away.

Whoa.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to get hurt. Hold onto the handle when you get out.”

Christy eyed him for a long moment before turning back to the car. Reaching for the handle, he put a foot on the lower running board, hopped once, and swung into the seat.

Michael went to close the door, and Christy pushed him back yet again. He reached for the handle and slid down, carefully placing his foot on the running board before stepping down.

“That was great.”

Christy held a finger up and mouthed, “Wait.” He was a man on a mission.

“Knock yourself out.”

Christy debarked and embarked three more times until he had it down pat.

Michael could only marvel at Christy as he walked around the car and climbed in. He put the key in the ignition and studied Christy for a long moment. The afternoon sun glinted brightly in his eyes, and Michael imagined the dancing refractions of a gemstone painting the interior of the car. “You have really amazing eyes.”

Christy looked away quickly.

Michael went to guide his face back with gentle fingertips, and Christy cowered. “Hey, hey, I won’t hurt you,” he reassured as he silently cursed himself for not remembering the “no touch” rule.

Christy turned to him, a crippled starling in the lethal sights of a cobra.

“I will never hurt you, Christy.”

Myriad emotions passed through Christy’s eyes, like clouds crossing the horizon on a windy day. Searching, uncertain, knowing, judgmental, hopeful, and frightened. After a moment he began to write, paused as if what he intended to write was hard for him, and finally held the pad up.
If angry?

Michael shook his head slowly as he recalled that Christy had witnessed his foot sweep to Evan and chose his words carefully. “In every fight I’ve ever had, I’ve never thrown the first punch. When I footswept Evan this morning, I knew it wouldn’t hurt him. I only wanted to stop him and get his attention. There is nothing in the world that could make me hurt you. Not one thing.”

Hope and longing permeated by ancient distrust and cruel betrayal steeped in Christy’s eyes. Michael could only imagine what he had endured, and it pained him deeply to see such unvarnished anguish on his beautiful face.

“I swear that I’ll never hurt you. Ever. And I will never make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Christy turned and stared out the window, silent and still.

Michael wanted to reach for him, to hold him, to tell him everything would be all right. He settled for gripping his keys and the steering wheel.

Christy finally looked down at his pad and wrote
Do you truly like my eyes?

“Without a doubt.”

Christy wrote
Hard to trust.