Promise Rock 03 - Living Promises (MM) (24 page)

Collin: Sweetheart’s Chance

C
OLLIN
was glad Jeff had backed off, because he might really have revealed his age and dropped to his knees right there in the parking lot.

Oh
Christ
, Jeff tasted good. He tasted like… like coffee, and chocolate, and, holy mother of crap,
surrender.
He tasted like hope and like shyness, two powerful flavors Collin hadn't tasted before on Jeff's tongue, and there was no force on the planet that could make Collin not crave more.

“God, Jeff, what in the fuck was that?”

“I think it was hope,” Jeff muttered, “but it's been so long I can't be sure.” He took a deep breath and leaned back, and Collin let him.
“I like the outfit, Jeffy,” Collin said, meaning it. Jeff was wearing jeans—not too tight—and a form-fitting ribbed sweater in sort of a power forest-green. It was understated, for Jeff, and casual, and Collin thought that he'd really love to take it off of him.
Jeff's laughter had the ring of hysteria in it. “Actually, it's not the one I'd planned to wear,” he said, his shoulders still twitching. He resumed his lean against the GTO. (Kimmy and Lucas must have driven it, since Shane was nowhere to be seen.)
Collin followed him and moved forward, spreading his legs a little, so that he was straddling Jeff's thighs as he leaned.
Jeff shuddered and closed his eyes and jerked a little against him. But still, he kept talking, like clothes were really fucking important. “I had this whole ensemble thing, gray slacks, gray shoes, yellow shirt, sport coat—it was fucking gorgeous,” he said, earnest as all get-out. “I was going to look just fucking fabulous, right? I spent all day planning it, right down to the socks and the scarf, and then I got home, and you know what?”
Collin's mouth quirked. “You decided I'd probably wear jeans, and you didn't want to look like the princess and the grease monkey when we went out and ate?”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “As if. No. The fucking cats used the whole outfit as a scratching post. I don't know why. Seriously. It's like the fuckers went psychic
and
psycho on me, because Katy even ralphed a hairball in the shoes.” Jeff shook his head mournfully. “I thought we were friends!”
Collin remembered the furry mountain that had camped out on his chest and shook his head. “You can't make friends with a force of nature, Jeff. You just have to hope it doesn't go Class Five on you and yak up a hairball in your shoes.”
Jeff smiled, and Collin saw that hesitant, almost shy hope in his eyes, and there was a sudden trembling in his chest.
“They usually cooperate,” Jeff mumbled. “They like our life. They like the extra brushing and the kitty bits. I don't know why they'd decide that one outfit had to go.”
Collin felt the trembling grow a little stronger. “Maybe they knew I'd like this one better,” he teased, and Jeff's eyes got big.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I wanted to look good for you.”
“You always look good for me.”
“You've been so patient.”
“I'm not patient tonight,” he confessed.
“Me neither. Where's Martin?”
They both looked back toward the garage just as Martin emerged, doing that same thing with the grease rag that Collin did. He looked extremely pleased with himself. “Jeff, you're gonna love it. We did everything to total spec, and Collin spun it around the block, and she handles so sweet. He tuned up the front suspension and replaced the shocks and it's like a whole new car.”
Collin wanted to smack his forehead with his palm and say, “D'oh!” What the hell kind of professional was he, anyway?
But Jeff was smiling at Martin like he was pleased to hear the details. He took a step away from Collin's body, and Collin backed up and let him for propriety's sake—and then he realized that, holy God, he was trying to be
civilized
in front of another human being and wished he could find the words to tell his mother. She might faint from the shock, but overall, he thought she might be pretty proud, and dammit, hadn't she earned
that
?
“So it's good to go?” Jeff was asking, and Martin nodded excitedly.
“Jeff, this was so awesome. I mean, I can deal with school, and I get good grades and everything, but this was… it was the coolest fucking thing in the world, you know? If I could do
this
every day, the grades might be worth it!”
Jeff blinked and looked at Collin for help. Collin did his best.
“The grades are always worth it, kid, and mine sucked, so that's saying something coming from me. I'd love to help you out, tell you about the classes and the stuff you've got to take to do this for a living. No matter where you end up, I'd be happy to teach you, okay?”
Martin didn't even pause at the reminder that this setup was temporary. He just smiled widely, his narrow, dark face absolutely alight with excitement. “That's awesome. I really want to take you up on that. Hey—where's Kim and Lucas? They need to take me to dinner, because I'm
starving
.”
“They're coming,” Jeff said, and Collin followed his eyes to the far end of the lot. Sure enough, they were deep in quiet conversation but walking toward the cars. They were holding hands.

J
EFF
was highly entertaining. He talked, he told stories, he gestured wide with those long arms of his—he was a consummate conversationalist, but then, Collin already knew that. He also knew the guy had heart and pain and a whole whirlwind of
other shit
to do besides entertain Collin. But that didn't stop Collin from appreciating the conversation.

Jeff subsided for a moment when their food came, and Collin watched him dig into a beef and feta cheese salad with some gusto.
“How do you do that?” Collin asked.
Jeff stopped, poised with a forkful of beef and lettuce aimed at his mouth. “Do what?” he asked before he took a bite.
Collin shook his head. “It's just… I mean… I
know
what these last couple weeks have been like for you, right? I was there for some of it. Some of it you haven't even let me see yet, and I
know
it's rolling around in your chest. I know it hurts, I know you feel it… but you just sat there and made me laugh my ass off at a story from some poor school teacher with the world's most insane staff room. How do you do that?”
Jeff shrugged. “I was in theatre in school,” he said after he swallowed his food. “I mean, I loved swim team—it made me feel free, right? But drama? Acting? Those things, they made me feel like
me.
” His voice dropped thoughtfully. “Like if I could be this person who made people laugh, that was… that was the Jeff who was supposed to be here.” Jeff shrugged and tried again. “It's… my parents were great. I mean, it's hard to believe it now, but they were really great. I just guess I always knew that some of what they loved about me was the face I presented to the world. I… I liked the ability to present whatever face I wanted, I guess. I liked making people laugh. If people are laughing at something I said, for a minute, they….” He trailed off, looking really embarrassed.
“They love you,” Collin said softly, and Jeff picked up his fork again, shoved in a mouthful of food, and mumbled to his salad. There was an awkward pause at the table then, and a part of Collin wanted to just grab Jeff's hand and say, “
I
love you,” but he wasn't sure if that wouldn't end the conversation right quick. Jeff had left him in the middle of a date once—Collin didn't think he could deal with that happening again. But he was pretty sure that it was true.
The conversation started up again when Collin told stories about his nieces, and Jeff listened and laughed. There was a moment when Jeff stopped laughing and Collin felt their knees bump under the table. Collin trapped Jeff's legs with his ankles, grinning playfully across the empty plates and the paid check, and then Jeff got that shy look, the one where he looked from under his brows and smiled like a little kid.
Collin's whole body flushed.
“Let's get out of here,” he muttered, and he didn't wait for an answer before standing up and grasping Jeff by the arm, ignoring the stares and the whispers, because even in Roseville, guys did not just sweep each other off their feet in public. Jeff went without an objection or even a little bit of tension in his wiry body, though, and when they got out to the car—they'd taken Collin's—Collin whirled him around, took that narrow face in his big hands and kissed him, balls out, while Jeff melted into the Camaro in complete submission.
Collin couldn't get enough of sweet, spicy, gentle Jeff. His hands came to Collin's biceps and gripped tightly, and he thrust his hips up against Collin's groin shamelessly, begging with everything from his pliancy to the little whimpers coming from his throat. They pulled back and Collin moved his hands up from Jeff's face to his hair, running fingers through the gel in it, massaging and rubbing and planting little fluttery kisses on Jeff's face, on his eyelids, on his cheeks, on the end of his nose, until Jeff was simply standing patiently, face up, his hair that amazing, unruly mess that Collin knew it could be, and his body was hard against Collin's in the right place and pliant in all of the right places too.
And Collin was still breathless, still trembling and urgent, when he placed a gentle kiss on Jeff's forehead and whispered, “Do you want to see my apartment now?”
“Do I have to do the walk of shame in front of your mother?”
“I have stairs—she'll never know you're there.”
“God, that's kinky,” Jeff half laughed, and Collin kissed him again until he was silent.
“I don't want kink,” he said when the kiss was done. “I want you, Jeff, just you, honest and naked and in my bed. Can you handle that?”
Jeff looked away. “The honest thing isn't really….”
Collin nuzzled his cheek and then kissed softly down to the corner of his mouth, then captured his lower lip and pulled, suckling and teasing it with his tongue.
He let go and said, “You can do the honest thing, Jeff. I've got faith.”
“Mmm… but—” and then Collin kissed him senseless again.
This time when he pulled away, Jeff said, “Yeah. Yes. Okay….” He bucked his hips against Collin's. “I'll do whatever you want, Sparky, just… don't leave me.” He let that hang there for a moment and then realized what he'd said, and Collin watched his Adam's apple bob as he tried to fix it. “Like this,” he muttered, thrusting his covered erection against Collin's thigh. “I meant—”
“I know exactly what you meant,” Collin murmured. “Get in the car, Jeffy. I'm taking you home.”
Things were quiet for the first few minutes in the car, and then Collin spoke up, feeling both young and old. “Jeffy, do you have your meds for tonight?”
“Yeah—don't you carry yours?”
It was true; Collin always had at least his next two doses in a little container in his pocket—for nights almost exactly like the one in which he ended up on Jeff's couch. The regimen didn't work well if it was interrupted, and the consequences of taking a double dose… he shuddered. “Good. Do you work tomorrow?”
“No. Hardly anyone comes in the two days before Thanksgiving anyway.” Collin sensed Jeff's sideways look, as though he knew where Collin was going with this but wasn't going to volunteer.
“Do you want to call Kim and ask if she can stay the night with Martin?”
Jeff's flush was hot enough for Collin to feel, even in the seat next to him. “Uhm, we'll see.”
Collin took a deep breath, knowing Jeff didn't mean to hurt. He reached across the seat and grabbed Jeff's hand. “Call her, Jeff. It will be good, I promise. You'll want to stay.”
“You have so much faith,” Jeff confessed shakily. “I don't remember what it's like to have that much faith.”
Collin brought Jeff's hand to his mouth and brushed the knuckles with his lips. “I have faith in you, Jeff. That's all I need.”

C
OLLIN
tried to look at his garage apartment from Jeff's eyes, but he was just so proud of it, he couldn't. It had been his first project, after the shop had started paying off. He'd gotten the rezoning done for the extra plumbing and heating, and although he'd hired a construction crew, he'd also gotten in there and done some of the work himself. The stairs were steady and secure, and the room itself… well, he'd put it together with the idea that he wanted someplace that made him feel welcome. It had been only two years after high school, and the loss of all his friends still stung, and he'd wanted to walk into his own apartment and feel like he belonged.

Jeff smiled when he walked in. “The only thing it's missing is cats,” he said with appreciation, and Collin groaned.

“No,” he said decisively. “I'm perfectly happy lusting after men, but I'm
not
going to learn to knit and get me some cats. Those are your specialties, Jeff—you've got a corner on the market.”

“Well, know your strengths.” Jeff arched his brows wickedly as he ran his hands over the sofa and the love seat in the living space section of the apartment, and Collin chuckled.

“I've got some dessert, if you like,” Collin said shyly. He'd bought some bananas and whipped cream. With a couple of mashed graham crackers, they had something tasty that would
not
rip up his stomach the way chocolate, his favorite, had been doing.

Jeff looked up hopefully. “Chocolate?”

Well, hell. “No, I'm sorry. It's been really fucking with my stomach lately.”
“Yeah, mine too. I'll take what you've got,” he said, and Collin realized that his face must have fallen, “but you know. I was just thinking that if I'm doing things that are bad for me, I might as well go all the way.”
Collin was in the process of taking the bananas from the bowl on the counter and then reaching into the fridge for the heavy cream when the full import of what Jeff had just said seeped in. He looked up wryly. “You know, Jeff, maybe you'll have to settle for something that's both tasty
and
good for you, you think?”
Jeff's grin split his face. “God you're easy. Sure, I'll taste your banana!”
And Collin groaned, both from the pun, which he let Jeff see, and from relief, because Jeff wasn't looking anxious anymore.
He had the dessert going in short order, and Jeff came and leaned on the counter, watching him with a faint smile on his face.
“You're good in the kitchen, you know.”
“You talk like someone who knows,” Collin said easily, and Jeff shrugged.
“I like to cook—I like to make it fancy. It's not perfect, but it's not tater-tot casserole either.”
Collin laughed and sprinkled some cinnamon on the little fruit sundae he'd just made, then put a fork on the plate and gave Jeff his. “Nothing wrong with tater-tot casserole,” he said mildly. “My mom raised us on the stuff. Here, set this down, hang your jacket on the peg, and let's take this into the living room.”
They sat on the couch, close enough that their thighs touched and their calves tangled, and ate the bananas slowly, savoring the details, and they talked. Maybe it was that it was just the two of them, and maybe it was the quiet intimacy of their position, but Collin noticed that Jeff's voice wasn't quite as loud, and he didn't trill quite as much. He kept his expressive hands contained, but he wielded his fork unconsciously like an extension of them, even when he was licking the whipped cream off with his eyes closed and little sighs in between bites.
There was a silence then, and Collin watched him finish the next to the last bite with quiet appreciation.
“Good?” he asked, belatedly, and Jeff nodded.
“You know, I try to enjoy small stuff. I forgot about bananas and whipped cream, but you forget sometimes. And then, you get your diagnosis, and you can't even sneeze over cat dander without that—”
“Fear,” Collin said softly.
“Yeah. No reason for it at all—I mean, I'm a medical professional, right? But I can't get a hangnail without flashing over my entire course of treatment if it suddenly goes septic or something.”
“It makes you feel in control,” Collin murmured. He still wanted Jeff in his bed, maybe more than ever, but this subject, the big Plus Sign in their bodies—it needed to be addressed.
Jeff nodded. “Which is funny, because life is a big spiraling, outof-control mess, right? Just look at Deacon.”
“How's he doing?”
Collin actually felt Jeff shrink in a little on himself. “Not good,” he said softly. “I know why he was putting off surgery, right? Because he wanted Benny to have a full semester at least, away at school, but I don't think he's going to be able to make that happen.”
Collin very carefully took the plate out of Jeff's hand and set it on the coffee table with his own. Then he toed off his shoes and propped his feet up in his black socks, because it was his house and he wanted Jeff to know he could do that too.
Then he leaned back and put an arm around Jeff's shoulders that was all comfort and no demand, and Jeff relaxed back into it a fraction and sighed.
“I'm sorry about your family, Jeffy,” Collin said softly, and kissed Jeff's temple. Jeff leaned into that too.
“Thank you, Collin. For such a fucked-up kid, you sure did win the grown-up race, you know that?”
“Yeah, well, I had some help,” Collin told him honestly. “A really nice guy shared some time with me when I was at my low point, and I managed to pull through.”
Jeff shook his head. “No, sweetheart. You had your mom going for you. You would have been okay.”
Collin kissed his temple again and feathered his lips down to Jeff's cheekbone. Jeff tilted his head and let him.
“You were important,” Collin insisted, and Jeff blew out a laugh— and then shivered a little as Collin traced soft lips over his jaw.
“I was so screwed up,” Jeff confessed. “I'd been alone for so long, and I'd gotten
really
narcissistic, you know?”
Collin puffed a gentle laugh in Jeff's ear, enjoyed watching Jeff's knees fall apart a little and hearing the soft little sound that came from his throat. Ooooh… that sound really
was
sexy, and Collin's body went from “sleepily aroused” to “alert” very quickly.
“I never would have guessed,” he said dryly, and then he touched his tongue to Jeff's earlobe.
Jeff shuddered and then kept talking, like maybe he had to talk about this before they progressed any further. “And then there was Kevin, and then the diagnosis, and Kevin's death and….” Jeff shuddered, and Collin's arm around his shoulders tightened.
“Why are you telling me all this, Jeffy?” Collin breathed, this time touching his lips to that fine column of Jeff's neck.
“Because,” Jeff moaned, seeming to melt into the couch. “Because I'm not a hero, and I haven't done this in nearly six years.”
Collin blinked and pulled back. “Six years?”
“Yeah, that gets people's attention,” Jeff muttered, turning away.
Collin seized his chin and pulled him back around. “You were my hero because you took time off to talk to a scared kid,” he said, meaning it. “You're still my hero because you're stronger than I think I could be, when the world really does seem to be out to get you. And I don't know what to say about the six years, except…
dayum.
” He was relieved when Jeff smiled a little. “Don't you think you're due to hit that reset button, Jeff?”
Jeff's eyes were wide and dark, and his lean mouth was open, soft, and vulnerable. “Yeah, Sparky, you're right,” he whispered. “I think it's time to hit that reset button.” And then he leaned forward and initiated a kiss.
Collin was so surprised, he opened his mouth almost automatically, and Jeff's tongue darted in, tasting, experimenting, and mostly teasing Collin until he couldn't take it anymore and had to take over.
Jeff let him.
Oh God, he was
fabulous.
He was bananas and whipped cream and acerbic kindness, and
Jeff.
Collin couldn't stop kissing him, not for a minute, not for a million dollars, not for the world. Jeff moaned, tilted his head back, and pulled Collin closer, palming Collin's chest with his long-fingered hands.
And the kiss went on.
Collin didn't confine it to Jeff's mouth or the hesitant softness of his lips but kissed his stubborn chin and the sides of his narrow nose, his forehead, his temples, the lobes of his ears. If Jeff hadn't done this for years, Collin wanted this to be the kiss to end all kisses, wanted to tease his lips until they ached, wanted him to yearn so hard for Collin's hands on his body that he literally creamed in his jeans.
Collin wanted him to
want
this, hunger for it with everything in him. Collin wanted them so close that there wasn't room for clothes, or sweat, or dead boyfriends, or regrets.
He backed Jeff down into the softness of the sofa, and Jeff went, pliant and willing, and Collin had to pull away for a moment to breathe past the lump in his throat. Surrender meant surrender, apparently—if Jeff didn't trust him, Jeff wouldn't be here, in Collin's home, in his arms, or laying flat on the couch, gasping for air.
“Second thoughts, Sparky?” Jeff panted, and Collin shook his head, even while his face was buried in Jeff's neck.
“Never,” he breathed. “Just appreciating the moment.”
Jeff's hands were suddenly in his hair, pushing it back from his eyes and framing his face. Collin lifted up a little and met his eyes in the low light from the kitchen.
“I appreciate it too,” Jeff murmured, and Collin decided that too much time had gone by without touching that lean mouth.
“Let's appreciate this in bed,” Collin muttered between kisses. “Come on, baby.”
Jeff pulled back and pouted a little. “Baby? I'm nine years your senior, Sparky—”
“You're my baby,” Collin purred, and then he stood up and offered Jeff a hand off the couch, singing The Ronettes' song, “„Be my, be my baby… my one, and only baby… be my, be my baby….'.”
Jeff scowled at him, and Collin grinned, still singing, before bending down and physically
taking
his hand, pulling him up off the couch with a grunt and taking his hands into a classic dance position. Still singing that song, he took the lead and began to waltz Jeff through his living space and back to the queen-size bed in the corner by the window.
Surprisingly enough, after some exasperated glances, Jeff's mouth quirked up, and he began to sing too. Step by step, they danced, backed around, until they bumped up against the bed. Jeff eyed it and licked his lips, and Collin knew what he was thinking.
There was a pause, fraught with tension, and Collin started to sing with a throaty baritone. “„Can't you hear me crying… can't you hear me crying…'.”
Jeff smiled a little, but his face was still sober. “Can you?” he asked, and Collin closed his eyes for a minute.
“With every touch. Will you let me make it better?”
In answer, Jeff cupped his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Collin took over, being strong, being in charge—it was why he owned his own business; it was why his whole life had improved once he'd had the power to choose his course. It was how he'd dreamed of taking Jeff for years, showing the kind man who had given him hope how much of a man hope had made him.
Jeff groaned, and when Collin lowered his hands to Jeff's waistband, he didn't protest when Collin bunched the sweater in his fists and pulled it up under Jeff's armpits. Without being asked, Jeff raised his hands over his head, and Collin lifted the bunched material up his arms, pulled it over his head and off, capturing Jeff's fists and then holding those long, strong arms together for a moment before he ran his cupped hands down their length, firmly, so he didn't tickle the undersides, and then down the sides of Jeff's chest, teasing the pink (shell pink, as delicate as a girl's) nipples with his thumbs.
Jeff gasped and lowered his hands to Collin's shoulders to steady himself, and Collin captured the gasp with another kiss. His hands spanned Jeff's narrow waist, and he felt the tight abdominal muscles and the soft skin on the sides. Jeff sucked in that tight stomach when Collin reached the waistband of his jeans, and Collin slipped his thumbs down the front, following the slight trail of soft black hair.
Jeff's cock was poking up, and the waistband of the pants was more of a hip-band, and Collin dipped his thumbs deliberately under it.
The whimper Jeff made when Collin brushed his cock through silk underwear made Collin's knees a little weak.
Without another word, Collin undid the button-fly and shoved the jeans down Jeff's hips, leaving him to do the rest while he took off his own clothes. He pulled his own sweater off over his head and was arrested, then, by Jeff's hands on his belt.
He looked down and saw Jeff working his plain leather belt patiently. When Collin's pants were sliding down his thighs, he stopped for a moment and placed a reverent kiss on Collin's bare hipbone. Collin caught his breath, and Jeff planted another one, a little lower, and then another one toward the center, and another, and another, and then he was holding Collin's cock in one slightly chilled hand and rubbing his cheek on Collin's lower abdomen with a delicacy and a wistfulness that made Collin's chest hurt.
Collin rested his hands in Jeff's hair for a moment, massaging gently. It still stuck out in every direction, but with the gel all worked out of it, it was soooo soft. Jeff kept rubbing his cheek on the soft skin and silky hair of Collin's lower stomach. His shoulders trembled until Collin kicked off his jeans and socks and bent down over him, taking his mouth again, kissing away the quivers, the tentative moment of becoming lovers, and every doubt he was sure Jeff had about letting another person in.
Jeff fell back against the brown-orange comforter, closed his big sweetheart eyes, and gave in. Collin kept kissing him and started running his hands from his shoulders to his thighs, exploring, touching, arousing, inflaming, until Jeff's breath was coming in fast little gasps and he was arching uncontrollably into Collin's touch.
God, Collin wanted him. Wanted to take, thrust, fuck… but this wasn't really about what Collin wanted, was it?
Gently, even though Jeff's body was covered with stringy layers of gym muscle, Collin lowered his body until they were pressed together, full-on chest to hip, thighs against thighs, and simply touched him, enveloping as much skin as he possibly could. Six years… six years, Jeff had been without the full-body contact of a lover. The responsibility was almost terrifying, but Collin had never backed down from a challenge.
Jeff sighed and shuddered and wrapped his arms around Collin's shoulders and pressed closer. Their groins were rubbing together, their cocks touching randomly because that wasn't the focus of their rhythm, but after Jeff whimpered—so sexy!—and bucked against him, Collin knew that things were getting urgent. Six years—it wasn't going to take much, not the first time, and Collin wanted it to be all about the touch.
He reached to his end table and pulled out the lubricant and a poly glove, but left the condom inside. There wasn't going to be any penetration here, no exposed tissues, just orgasm and whole skin, and for a moment, they could mark each other like any other lovers, could forget the
no
s and give into the
yes
es, enjoy the bananas and whipped cream when the chocolate could hurt them.
Jeff whimpered again, gasped his name, tried to wrap a leg around his hip and force their bodies to grind, but Collin didn't let him. He covered his battered, scraped knuckles and dumped lubricant on the glove instead and slid between their bodies, pivoting his hip to one side and grasping both of their cocks in his wide-palmed, long-fingered hand. Jeff let out a long, keening gasp, and Collin could feel Jeff's prick, the soft-skinned, hard length, up against his, intimate, pleasurable, and so, so good. He stroked firmly and let Jeff thrust to keep the timing right, and stroked and stroked, feeling the flare of Jeff's cockhead catch against the flare of his own.
Jeff started to gibber, “Collin, God, can't… can't… oh God… please, God, Collin… gotta….”