Love Lessons (22 page)

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Authors: Heidi Cullinan

BOOK: Love Lessons
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Walter raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn away from the screen. “You mean Edward wasn’t her prince?”

“Nope. She hooks up with Robert’s fiancé. It’s kind of a love quadrilateral.”

Grinning, Walter glanced at Kelly, but after a moment his smile turned a bit wry. “Sorry. Something tells me this movie was only supposed to be a cover activity and I’m ruining the plan.”

Kelly blushed, but he smiled too. “That’s okay. I
do
love this movie.”

Onscreen, Giselle started to squeal as she was hauled down the New York Streets in her extreme poof gown, and Walter’s focus shifted back and he started giggling.
Giggling
.

This was better, Kelly decided, than making out.

They did snuggle, sort of—their arms pressed together, and behind them their feet kept rubbing against each other, linking at the ankles as they swayed back and forth together. Kelly watched the movie, but more than that he watched Walter, having possibly too much fun tracking his reactions. He laughed, but it wasn’t all in mockery.

“So Robert is the cynical man who doesn’t believe in love, and Giselle will convince him it does exist by the end, so they can live happily ever after?” Walter asked.

“Sort of. She has to come to terms with stuff too. The whole thing where she’s promised to Edward but she falls in love with Robert is a bit of a tough nut too.”

At this point Edward made it through the manhole, changed from cartoon to live-action, and Walter laughed so hard that he fell against Kelly.

“Holy shit, he’s so fabulously gay. This is perfect.” Then the chipmunk started to chatter, and Walter lost it.

He giggled too, and Kelly decided this was his new mission in life, to find ways to make Walter giggle. Eventually he had to reposition himself because his arms were hurting from leaning on them, and when he shifted on the bed, Walter moved too, lying on his side and pulling Kelly up in front of him, wrapping an arm around his body and encouraging him to nestle in close. Kelly did. With Walter behind him, he didn’t have to pretend to watch the movie, either. He could shut his eyes and drink in the scent of Walter, let all his focus settle on the way Walter’s hand moved along his forearm and how amazing it felt when Walter slid a leg over his, trapping him lightly in place with a delicious pressure. It was perfect, lying there with him—could he call Walter his boyfriend? He wondered how it would be best to ask that, or if he even should. Maybe when the movie was over, since Walter was in such a good mood and they were both relaxed, he’d bring it up.

However, before the movie ended, in the middle of Giselle and Robert dancing the King and Queen’s waltz—just after Robert started to sing to her—Walter’s lips brushed Kelly’s ear. When Kelly turned to look at him, he had one moment to register the desire in Walter’s face, and then there was no space between them, because Walter’s lips were on his.

Funny how he’d been kissed three times that night and each one was completely different and none of them ever what Kelly had expected a kiss to be like. Yes, he’d admit to being one of those gay boys who had rewound kisses and watched them over and over, and the few he’d been able to find on YouTube that were gay had him mesmerized. He’d always figured kissing would be engrossing, like sliding inside someone. Completing a connection.

It was, but it was also scary and thrilling and such sensory overload that it took Kelly by surprise every time. This one wasn’t as dramatic as the one in the bar or as bumbling as the one in the Mazda. It was slow, and sweet, and it sent Kelly spiraling into something new, something that made him feel hot and cold at once, made him want to lie flat on the mattress and pull Walter on top of him. The kiss made his cock hard and hopeful, even as that development made his heartbeat kick up and flutter inside his rib cage.

Kelly moaned, a quiet sound that escaped his lips. Walter kissed him deeper, opening his mouth over Kelly’s and stealing inside.

Whimpering, Kelly opened his mouth wider to let Walter in. His eyes rolled back into his head behind his lids and he let go into Walter’s embrace, shivering at the wicked feel of Walter’s tongue beside his own. Walter’s fingers brushed his jawline before he changed the angle of the kiss, went in
even deeper
and shifted his body tighter against Kelly’s, pressing him into the bed.

Kelly moaned again and slid his hands up the front of Walter’s shirt, fingers along the slope of Walter’s neck.

Nothing about Walter was self-conscious now as he shut the laptop, took a brief moment to reposition Kelly flat on his back, and resumed the kiss, pressing their frames together chest to chest, thigh to thigh, groin to groin. Electricity ran across Kelly’s skin as Walter’s erection pushed hard against his own—when Walter thrust gently, rubbing them together like bits of tinder. Kelly thought he might combust any second, and it didn’t take much frotting to have him gasping into Walter’s mouth and clutching at his shoulders.

“Walter,” he whispered, breaking the kiss long enough to speak. His hips, no longer taking orders from his brain, kept undulating in time with Walter’s. Kelly bit his own lip and nuzzled Walter’s chin. “Walter, I’m going to—
in my pants
.”

“Me too. It’s okay—we can do a load of laundry.” Walter nuzzled back, then caught Kelly’s bottom lip lightly in his teeth. “Come with me, Kelly. Right now.”

He nipped at Kelly’s lip again, harder this time. Shutting his eyes and holding on tight, Kelly let out a shuddering cry and did as he was told. He came in his underwear, in his jeans, humping against Walter without an ounce of shame. He wasn’t even fully back in his body before Walter did the same, his mouth sealing over Kelly’s as his body tensed, jerked, then melted against Kelly in release. As Walter dragged a weary kiss down Kelly’s cheek, they lay there together, breathing hard through their recovery.

It was fantastic, unreal, amazing—all except for the sticky, awkward and increasingly cool mess inside his briefs.

Walter nuzzled behind Kelly’s ear. “We’ll want to go clean up. Dried come is nothing to fuck with.” His lips brushed Kelly’s nape as he said, very quietly, “Hope that was okay.”

Was it okay? God it was
epic
. Kelly felt that was too silly to say, so he nodded and kissed Walter’s cheek instead. “It was great.”

Walter’s smile made Kelly’s heart flip over, though it ached as Walter climbed off the bed and held out a hand to help Kelly up too. As soon as Kelly stood, though, feeling the cold squish inside his pants, he made a face and shivered. “Oh,
ew
.”

“Yeah, and it only gets better the longer it sits there.” Walter squeezed his hand and tugged him toward the door. “Come on. We have a date with warm washcloths.”

Cleaning up was a little embarrassing—it wasn’t like he hadn’t stolen a peek at Walter’s cock before, but he’d never stood half-naked beside him in a bathroom and wiped spunk out of his pubic hair. Naturally, Walter wasn’t embarrassed at all, which worked out well because he had Kelly giggling and relaxed in almost no time at all. They shimmied into sweats, brushed their teeth together and headed back to the bedroom. That was when, however, Walter went awkward again.

“Do you want me to go?” He nodded toward the guest bedroom. “I mean—I don’t want to…” He trailed off, looking lost and uneasy.

This Kelly could fix. Happily. He took Walter’s hand and led him back to the bed. “Please stay.”

Walter relaxed, but not all the way. “We can just sleep. Or—” He rubbed at his jaw, then sighed. “I don’t care what we do, or don’t. I only want to be with you. If that’s okay.”

Kelly smiled, heart swelling. “Totally okay.” He tugged Walter into the bed and pulled the laptop back between them. “Come on. You need to see the end of the movie.”

Chapter Sixteen

Walter lay awake a long time, watching Kelly sleep.

It was ridiculous, he knew, but he was afraid to close his eyes for fear he’d wake up and this would be a dream. That he’d wake in his room, without Kelly, with his mom banging around in the kitchen, either putting on a fragile smile when he came down or ripping the veil away entirely and weeping because he was leaving, going to school and leaving her alone. That he’d find out he hadn’t picked up Kelly from the airport, kissed him in Roscoe’s and made out with him with a Disney movie as background noise.

It was ridiculous. He knew this. Even so, he fought sleep like it was a devil, letting it claim him only for long, heavy blinks before he woke himself with a sharp bite against the inside of his cheek. He traced the soft contours of Kelly’s face as he lay still and serene in his slumber beside Walter, ran his fingertip down the line of his neck, across his clavicle and around the collar of his T-shirt.

He’d done it. He’d told Kelly how he felt. Some of it. They’d kissed, made out.

Now what?
Walter still didn’t know. Part of him was convinced, utterly, that this had been the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than staying home with his mom those two years.

Part of him ached so badly for this he wanted to cry.

He didn’t, but his throat was thick and his gut queasy as he kept tracing Kelly’s skin, as things he’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about stirred like dead leaves inside him. That was the funny thing about feelings. He’d learned this years ago, even before college—he could lock things away, but it was a hard turn, that valve. He had to shut whole parts of himself off when he closed it. This had been discussed, at length, in the therapy he’d allowed himself when things with his mother had gone particularly sour.
You can’t shut your heart off forever,
the counselor had warned him.

Turned out she was right.

Walter skimmed his hand over Kelly’s chest, lightly so as not to wake him, but enough to let himself feel, to learn those planes he’d been longing for. It was important not to wake him, because Walter was feeling like a real idiot right now, wanting to blurt out everything, all his secrets that weren’t anything at all, stupid old wounds that upset him. Things he could look back on now and see were problems, scars he carried that got in his way even now, events that if he hadn’t been so young and clueless would have told him a lot, could have kept him from feeling so lousy. Sad truths about how sick his mother was—oh, not sick enough to be a real danger, no, but sick enough to make life lonely and confusing. Ugly truths about his dad and how fucking inattentive and selfish he was, how his dad’s worthlessness mixed with his mother’s Russian roulette was a nightmare roofie cocktail. Unfortunate truths, about how maybe it wasn’t terribly brilliant for a fourteen-year-old to go cruising for daddies, no matter how mature and put together those boys thought they were.

Walter shut his eyes, swallowing the darkness back down. No, he wasn’t telling any of that to Kelly. Funny, though, how being happy brought that crap out. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, either—moments of something this good, this unexpected and off his usual path, they always dredged up old shit, like somehow happiness came with sorrow as its anchor. In Walter’s case the chain had gotten all tangled, and the whole business came up or stayed down together. Which was why he preferred not to get involved with people, especially not like this.

Yet here he was. Involved. Really fucking involved, and he didn’t think he could walk away now, even if it was the right thing to do.

Eventually he had to give in to sleep, but before he did, he tossed out a different kind of anchor. Pulling his phone from the nightstand, he punched out an email to Williams, using the professor’s home email, not the one he used through the college.

Weird break. Lots has happened. Good I think, but I’d love to reserve some time in your garage workshop next week to talk it through. Love to the wife and kids.

Some of his anxiety bled off simply by typing that. He took a moment to breathe, to let his lungs release, then added one last line to keep the tone light and redirect a little focus off himself.

And stop worrying about your tenure. It’ll be fine.

Hitting send, Walter curled up beside Kelly, wrapped an arm carefully around his waist and slid into sleep.

 

 

Walter woke the next time to find Kelly already awake and staring at him. Smiling shyly, Kelly ran a hand down Walter’s arm beneath the sheet. “Hi.”

Walter smiled back, body still heavy with sleep. “Hi.” He bent his hand and captured Kelly’s fingers, tugging them down to tangle over his chest. “Sleep okay?”

Kelly nodded, fingers moving against Walter’s. He had a bashful look about him, and he nibbled his lip a few times before he spoke. “Can I ask you kind of a dumb question? One that makes me sound like a stupid, sappy tool?”

“You are not a stupid, sappy tool.” Walter brushed his thumb along Kelly’s wrist. “Ask.”

Kelly caught Walter’s hand. “Are we…boyfriends?”

Walter had to shut his eyes in a long, slow blink as he wiped the crazy riot of emotions that question stirred, but he didn’t do a good enough job, because when he opened them back up, Kelly looked abashed and miserable.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I told you—”

Walter let go of Kelly’s hand to stop that babble with his fingertips. “Hush. Kelly, you can’t be sorry for asking a question like that.”

Kelly’s face still radiated extreme embarrassment. “It’s just that I know you don’t do that, and I know you said you would for me, but you can’t mean it, not really, not when I’m a clueless virgin and you’re—”

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