A Wealth of Unsaid Words (20 page)

repeated, the words, everything about him like the truth,

harsh and raw. “You said I"d be better off without you. I don"t

think I will ever really forgive you for that.”

Alex closed his hands around the mug. Someone must

have reheated the cocoa since the cup was hot. Alex was

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shivering anyway. “You"re a surprisingly hard man at times,

Everett.”

Everett exhaled and took a moment to focus. “I don"t

know why it"s taken you so long to realize how strong I am.

My job isn"t exactly a walk in the park.”

If those boys were anything at all like Alex had been at

their age, then Alex agreed, that job would be difficult and

demanding and a nightmare most of the time. And yet, if

they were anything like him, in no time at all they"d be eating

out of Everett"s hand.

“But you do it.”

“And we both know why.” Everett was so definite that

Alex looked up again.

“I didn"t.” It was not the brutal truth he was known for.

“Or I didn"t want to hope. I couldn"t handle it then, I think. I

am not strong.”

Everett snorted. The sound was bitter, though he ought

to know how awful hope could be as much as Alex did. Alex

scowled at him. “I"m the one with the reputation for cruel

honesty, in case you"ve forgotten,” he started to say, but

abandoned his defense halfway through.

He sighed instead, and Everett sat down heavily on the

bench next to him. “But I always hoped anyway, even before

I consciously knew what it was I wanted.” Alex looked away

again, but to remember this time, and to explain. Everett

was hungover, they were both needlessly freezing, and
now

there were too many words to hold back.

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“The damn candy.” He wiped at his face and took

another drink. “I had run to you, again.” He"d run to Everett

too many times to count. He wasn"t sure when he"d first

started climbing that tree, but Everett"s window had always

been unlocked for him, something he supposed no one

would dare do in a child"s room now, but the world had

seemed different then. Or maybe Everett"s parents hadn"t

known and that had been all Everett.

“It was the middle of the night, but of course my father

wasn"t sleeping. He was decorating, but he"d spent every cent

of his paycheck on presents for me so he was cutting up

paper for snowflakes and chains to decorate the house for

Christmas. He wasn"t sleeping and so neither was I, and it

had been fun during the afternoon, but then we were out of

paper and still it wasn"t enough. He suddenly had a vision of

what it should be and the look in his eyes…. He wasn"t there

anymore. I"m sure you"re familiar with it.”

Alex gestured at himself. Everett didn"t nod, but he

didn"t need to. So Alex cleared his throat. “I had to get away.

I climbed your tree, and even though we had just entered

junior high and I knew, I thought, we were too old for that

sort of thing, you looked at me and pulled me close and held

me in a way boys aren"t supposed to at that age.” His mouth

was dry, but he didn"t take another drink. “And after a while,

you took out your last two pieces of that damn candy. You"d

been saving them since Halloween, you loved them so much.

You could have just bought more, I think, but you were

careful even then, and you"d hid them away for special

occasions, and they were your last two, and you gave them

to me.”

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He rolled his shoulders and glanced over again. “It was

nothing more and nothing less than you"d always done, but I

knew then, for the first time.” It had been pain and

happiness and then feeling so weary he"d fallen asleep with

Everett still holding him. “Though I didn"t really admit it to

myself until high school, but I already knew it couldn"t

happen.”

“Not then,” Everett corrected him, so very sure. Alex met

his gaze.

Fear, like cold, also made him shake. But he put the

mug down, and when Everett leaned in, he reached over to

cup his face and kiss the curve of his lips. Everett"s hands

came up, touching the freezing skin of his arms, and Everett

exhaled, just his name.

It wasn"t long, not with the cold and Alex needing more

than that from him, but even when Everett pressed to make

the kiss deeper, he would not stop touching him. His palms

smoothed down Alex"s chilled arms and then along his

stomach and back, and then Alex kissed him again, less with

bated breath and carefully parted lips and more with hot

intent. Everett"s hands skated over his shoulders and ribs

and then grew bolder, as if Everett were not already bold

enough.

He abruptly groaned and pushed forward to close the

distance, and Alex realized this was not Everett being brave

or Everett wanting to comfort him. Everett
needed
to touch

him. His fingertips pressed into Alex"s skin hard enough to

bruise, and then he twined Alex"s fingers with his and pulled

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his hand to his chest as though he needed Alex to know how

fast his heart was beating.

Alex pressed against his chest, into the old wound of

that broken heart, and slid his mouth down to Everett"s

rough jawline at the gratified noise Everett made. He nodded,

shakily, to show that he understood, and pushed his other

hand down over flannel to feel Everett"s cock pound against

his hand. It made him dizzy and sent a fire crackling

through his skin, like touching lightening.

He shut his eyes tight and let himself feel Everett,

Everett breathing hard into his ear, trembling and pushing

up into his hand, and whispering feverish little declarations

as Alex pulled at the ties at his waist and discovered the

warm, firm skin of his lower stomach.

“Alex, please.” Everett"s hands were along his back,

pulling him closer, his breath halting noisily when Alex"s

mouth tasted his throat, the skin beneath his ear, his

shoulder, and his hand slipped down beneath his pajama

pants to cup him through his underwear. His fingertips were

sticky. He wanted to put them in his mouth, but couldn"t

stop sucking kisses into Everett"s skin or stroking, slowly,

over Everett"s erection.

He was hard, too, but he couldn"t stop this, tormenting

Everett as though they were teenagers, and he wanted

Everett to come in his pants.

“Alex, please,” Everett begged him, stopping when Alex

opened his eyes and moved back to lick his mouth open. He

twitched forward, and Everett moved, like he wanted to open

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his legs and couldn"t. He panted against Everett when he

pulled back, and Everett moaned. “Alex, it"s… a year, Alex.

It"s been a
year
. Please.”

For a moment Alex couldn"t follow, and then he felt his

heart stop.

“Everett.” It was all Alex could manage. Then he pushed

off the bench, knocking the mug into the snow. He took

Everett"s mouth and his neck and his ear and then tipped

his head back to have his mouth again, swallowing his

gasping pleas for more, overwhelmed with the need for

Everett, to hear him, see him, come in his hands.

“You didn"t have to wait with me,” he wanted to say, but

Everett saw through him, or read it in him when he couldn"t

say it aloud, and kissed him back, until their mouths were

bruised and wet, and his palm was damp and hot against

Everett"s briefs.

All these years and this was his. Not stolen, not

borrowed, but his. The planes of Everett"s back, the slope of

his shoulder, the hard length of him tempting Alex"s

fingertips into sliding down over and over again.

“Wait?” Everett wasn"t laughing. “Waiting.” His stubble

burned. His mouth was sweet. “Since you were twelve, Alex?

My whole
life
.” He was weak for a moment, shuddering, and