Corrina gave an approving nod. “And is Paul one of that number?”
“He says he’s thinking about it.”
“Keep after him. He’ll say yes eventually. Especially if you ask him the right way.”
“Well, what’s the right way?”
She winked and patted his arm as she pushed her cart away.
Kyle thought about Corrina’s comment the rest of the day. He wasn’t against it at all, but it felt weird to offer when he’d already done everything from subtle hints to out-and-out wheedling. He absolutely couldn’t get the job done “the right way” via text, and since he wasn’t due to see Paul until Wednesday night, he couldn’t see how it was going to happen before then. Which at that point might possibly be too late.
When Kyle stopped at Paul’s on Wednesday, Kyle was beat from a long day, with a long night of food prep ahead of him before more work in the morning, and Paul was equally exhausted from a long repair job, but they didn’t even wait for Kyle to get his coat off before they started. Paul slid warm, work-rough hands under Kyle’s coat hem, and Kyle fucked his tongue into Paul’s mouth as he peeled out of his parka and abandoned it with his boots. When Kyle groaned and pushed on Paul’s shoulders, Paul smiled into the kiss before sinking to his knees, opening his mouth as Kyle shoved his scrubs down enough to free his cock.
It was still a rush to see that curly blond head bobbing on his dick. Part of the thrill came from knowing Paul would do pretty much whatever Kyle told him. Like tonight, when he told Paul to put his hands behind his back, Paul did so without hesitation. The dregs of Kyle’s long day evaporated as Paul moaned around his cock, drooling and gagging as Kyle fucked deep. But when Kyle pulled out, some of the shadows crept in.
Kyle threaded his fingers more gently into Paul’s hair. “Something wrong?”
Paul shook his head, as much as he could with Kyle holding it hostage. “No.” He deliberately kept his gaze from Kyle’s.
Kyle rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly along Paul’s beard, ignoring the thrill of sensation that brought him. “Come on, baby. I know when you’re lying. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Paul’s shrug broke Kyle’s heart. “It’s nothing, really. Just not excited for tomorrow.”
“You aren’t? Why?”
Another shrug. “My family. They’re never great, but they’ve been especially rough lately.”
“Why? What’s happened?” Kyle let go of his cock and touched Paul’s face in concern. “I know you don’t like to talk about your family, but you do know I’d be happy to listen about your struggles with them. Including right now.”
“Nothing happened, really. Nothing new. They never like when I date, but I haven’t been serious with anyone since Arthur, and I guess they were hoping I’d grown out of being gay or something.”
Kyle ached for him. “I’m sorry.”
Paul shrugged. “Arthur keeps telling me to skip out, but it would be worse after. Plus…well, they’re my family. And it’s not
all
bad.”
Kyle stroked Paul’s cheek with his knuckles before cupping his chin. “I wish I didn’t work. I’d volunteer to go with you.”
Paul shuddered, and his laugh was bitter, sad. “That would be worse, unfortunately.”
“Then come to my house after. It’s a little crazy, but it’s a good crazy. And we can escape to my room if it gets to be too much. Though I can’t promise Linda Kay won’t insist on escaping with us.” He couldn’t stop a smile. “She thinks you’re handsome. She told me to tell you if you ever switch teams, she wants to be first on the list for tryouts.”
“I like your sister. Tell her it’s doubtful I’ll change my mind, but she can have that first place in line.”
Kyle swayed on his feet, his smile faltering, though not because he was unhappy. Quite the opposite, in fact. Holding his pants up with one hand, he crouched to Paul’s level and touched his face.
Paul regarded him warily. “Did I say something wrong?”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t think you understand what a gift it is to have you accept Linda Kay so easily. I’ve had boyfriends who thought she was weird. Others who I could tell only tolerated her.”
Paul shrugged, embarrassed. “She’s your sister. And she accepts me, so why wouldn’t I do the same?”
Kyle couldn’t say any more, not right away, so he kissed Paul, slow and sweet. When it began to turn into the same fire that had started the blow job, he broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “Please come to Thanksgiving with me.”
Paul nodded and put his hands on Kyle’s arms. “Okay.”
“Will you text me during the day? Let me be there for you that way, since I can’t be with you in person?”
Another nod and a nuzzle. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
Kyle wished as he’d never wished for anything else to be able to get out of work. He gave a moment’s thought to begging the late-shift person to swap with him, even if it meant telling his mother he couldn’t go so he could be with Paul. Except he knew Paul wouldn’t let him.
He kissed the corner of Paul’s mouth regretfully. “I wish I could be there for you. I wish I could fix it. I’m sorry I can’t.”
Paul kissed him back, a tender, tentative brush of lips. “It’s okay. I’m not asking you to.”
“But I want you to ask me to do those kinds of things for you.”
Paul kissed Kyle again, this time with tongue, and while he did so he reached for Kyle’s now-soft dick, stroking it to life. “You do all kinds of things for me. Which is why I’d like to do something for you.”
Kyle smiled, biting his bottom lip as Paul’s hand job became more intense. “But I want to help you tomorrow. I want to be there with you. In whatever way I can.”
Paul moved his lips to Kyle’s neck, teasing the skin with his beard. “Maybe…maybe we could text. But I know that can be tricky sometimes at work.”
Kyle was going to work like hell to keep himself available. “What if I stopped by before I went in? I’d stay the night, but I have to help my mom get ready. I can stop by for breakfast, though.” He nipped Paul’s chin. “Maybe some dessert too.”
Paul leaned into Kyle, shutting his eyes. “I don’t want to put you out,” he said, in a tone making it clear he wished he could anyway.
“It’s never putting me out to be with you, to take care of you.” Kyle pulled away from Paul, then laughed as he realized his cock was still hanging out of his pants.
Paul closed his hand over it, his grip firm and sure. “Let me take care of
you
right now, then.”
Grinning, Kyle rose to his feet, shutting his eyes as his boyfriend’s mouth closed over him again.
When Kyle arrived the next morning, Paul had breakfast ready and waiting.
It was only oatmeal, hash browns and bacon, but he set the table up as pretty as he could, wishing he could have put flowers in the center or something. Kyle didn’t seem to mind the place settings weren’t as fancy as Frankie’s, kissing Paul hard on the mouth before digging in.
“I’ll be by as soon as I’m off, and I’ll text you as much as I can.” He slugged some orange juice and wiped his mouth with the paper towel Paul had laid out as a napkin. “What time will you go to your parents’ place?”
“Probably around eleven.”
“Oh, that works out. I get a break just before. We could text or talk on the phone, if you wanted. And please do text me anytime you want. If I can’t reply right away, I will as soon as I can.”
Paul hated how pathetic this all made him feel, until he thought about what his day had in store for him, and then he mostly wished he could crawl back into bed.
Kyle took his hand and leaned across the table to kiss him. “Don’t think about how awful they’ll be. Think about how crazy fun my family will be. They’re all so excited you’re coming. Mom was peeling Linda Kay off the ceiling when I left.”
Paul smiled, but even the vision of Linda Kay couldn’t chase away all his shadows.
Pulling him to his feet, Kyle placed his next kiss just below Paul’s ear. “In case it’s not enough to get you through, let me give you something to carry you into your oncoming hellscape.”
They stumbled together to the bedroom, tearing at each other’s clothes, and as soon as Paul was naked, Kyle pushed him to the bed. He did the trick where he rode Paul for a bit, but he didn’t let either of them come until he had Paul on his hands and knees, gripping the headboard as Kyle pounded into him. He went in hard, riding the edge of too much too fast, and the rush made Paul come like a fountain. When they collapsed onto the bed, he felt spent and as weak as a kitten. And a hell of a lot more mellow.
That glow faded, however, when it was time for Kyle to go. Paul put briefs and pajama pants on, going with Kyle to the door to kiss him goodbye.
Kyle wrapped his scarf around his neck and smacked Paul’s sore butt with his mitten. “I’ll be by to get you at three. Text me as much as you want. And if something goes really bad and you need to talk, call.”
“I will,” Paul promised, and kissed him on the mouth.
Kyle went to work, and Paul watched a movie on the couch until it was time to go. He’d tried to time it so he arrived an hour before the meal, and he’d leave a half an hour after pie—basically the minimal amount of time required for him to be present. He didn’t plan to eat much since he wanted to be able to eat again at Kyle’s place. But as he got ready to walk out the door, the looming criticism, judgment and general censure he knew waited for him made him wish he could get away with not going at all. His family’s cloud overwhelmed him in a way the memory of his morning with Kyle couldn’t counteract.
He was even more nervous to call Kyle, but he did it anyway.
Kyle answered on the first ring. “Hey, baby. Are you on your way?”
“Yeah.” The heaviness overwhelmed him, and Paul attempted to distract himself. “Tell me about your day. What were you doing before break?”
“Trust me when I say you don’t want to know what I was just doing. A nurse’s job is seldom glamorous and often full of bodily fluids.”
Paul gripped the phone. “I’m nervous. I’m sure they’re going to start shit, and I’ll have to sit there and take it.”
“You don’t have to take it. If they’re terrible, leave. Go home and wait for me, or go to my house. My mom and Linda Kay can have you smiling in three minutes flat.”
Paul knew he couldn’t do that, but the thought was nice.
Kyle wasn’t done, though. “Don’t let your family drag you down. You don’t have to be rude to them, but you don’t have to stand there and take it either. You have other family. You know you could go with any of the guys, and they’d fold you right into their holiday. And you have me. For as long as you want to have me.”
Paul shut his eyes. “I can’t wait until three. I wish you were with me now.”
“I am, baby. Every step of the way.”
They hung up shortly after that. Tender-hearted feelings buoyed Paul out the door, all the way to his parents’ farm. They faded slightly as his sister met him in the hall with a thin smile. But he smiled back, touching his phone through the front pocket of his jeans, reminding himself Kyle was only a text away.
He helped his father put extra leaves in the table, sat with Tim and problem-solved the sticky gearshift in his tractor while their mom and Sandy set the plates out. Paul’s niece and nephew raced old toys down the hallway until they were all called to wash their hands and come to eat.
The turkey was dry, the gravy bland. The biscuits weren’t great, but they were familiar, his mother’s staple. Sandy had brought the green bean casserole, and it wasn’t bad. None of it, though, was even half as good as what he and Kyle cooked on a regular weeknight in.
Mary frowned with disapproval at Paul’s plate. “You’re hardly eating anything. Are you coming down with something?”
Paul cleared his throat and focused on poking at his lumpy mashed potatoes. “I’m fine. But I’m heading over to Kyle’s parents’ place later for another dinner. I wanted to be polite and save room.”
He knew he’d just lobbed a bomb into the middle of the table, and most days, he’d have avoided that at all costs. But his ass still throbbed from being with Kyle, and his heart brimmed with his encouragements and promises. As his family gaped at him for daring to mention his boyfriend at the Thanksgiving table, Paul was ready for someone to berate him, but all that happened was Sandy gave him a glare and asked her husband in a too-bright voice to tell everyone about the plans for the remodel. Paul’s imminent date wasn’t brought up again.
When he was in the living room waiting for pie, texting with Kyle, his niece, Charity, planted herself in front of him.
“Mom says it’s wrong for boys to be boyfriends with other boys and girls to be girlfriends with other girls.”
She delivered the line dutifully, as if repeating something learned by rote. She’d never brought up the subject of Paul’s orientation before, and it dismayed Paul to hear her parroting her mother. But as he floundered with possible replies, something prickled at the back of his mind, made him pause and take a second look at his niece. He tried to think not of how
he
would respond to her, but how
Kyle
would.
“I don’t think it’s wrong,” Paul said at last. He did his best to keep his tone patient, kind, but not judging or defensive either. “A lot of people don’t.”
“Jesus does.”
Maybe he was making it up, but something about the way she looked at him, the edge in her voice, made Paul wonder. He put his phone aside and gave Charity his full attention.
“He doesn’t, actually. He never said anything about it. I know because Marcus looked it up when we were in high school. And he’s a lawyer, so he’s pretty smart about that kind of stuff.” After daring a glance at the kitchen to make sure his sister was out of earshot, he got brave. “Pastor Michaels doesn’t think Jesus says so either. And he says the parts of the Bible saying homosexuality is a sin are from the same bits saying we shouldn’t wear mixed fibers or eat pork. We’re supposed to care more about what Jesus says, as Christians. And he never said a word about boys having boyfriends.”
“But we
raise
pork.”
“Exactly.”
Charity frowned. “What’s a mixed fiber?”
Paul smiled and rubbed his beard. “To be honest, I’ve never been able to figure it out.”