Let's Hear It for the Boy (3 page)

The rest of the evening was a blur. No way could I drive, and Patrick had switched to Sprite after the first couple of drinks, so we loaded into the car and made our way home. We dropped Sonia off and gave her tearful hugs and made her promise to call us when she got to her new apartment in California. Despite her objections, I shoved half the three hundred dollars I’d gotten in tips that night in her hand and told her to use it for gas. Then it was just Patrick and me.

I leaned my head back on the headrest and looked over at him as he drove us the couple of miles back to my house. Jesus, but he was handsome. His light brown hair was curly, and he tried to tame it with some kind of stuff that never really worked. He had an oval shaped face, with a nose that was not quite perfect—there was a slight bend to it, like it had been broken at some point—and two piercing blue eyes. I always envied how he could tan so easily, his lean, strong muscles golden

He seemed to feel my gaze on him, and he turned to me and smiled, and I melted a little more. “Have a good time tonight, tiger?”

I grinned back. “Sure did. Thanks for driving. You can take the car back with you and I’ll jog over tomorrow and pick it up.”

We pulled into my driveway, and he parked and turned to look at me. The look he gave me made my toes curl and my ass clench. “Oh baby, I’m not going home tonight. I’m staying here with you.”

Chapter Four

That got my attention. And sobered me the hell up all at the same time. “Uhhh…okay. I guess that’s good.”

He climbed out and I watched him walk around the car, open my door, and lean down. With his mouth about two inches from mine, he said, “You sure? Because I can always do like you said and go home.”

I closed my eyes, afraid I’d passed out and this was all a dream and I would wake up all alone again. I leaned forward just that extra little bit and my lips touched his and
holy shit, thank you, Jesus!
I was kissing him. His lips were soft and dry, and when I opened mine to suck in an unsteady breath, he stuck his tongue in my mouth and I thought I might cry. He backed away and my eyes snapped open, but his expression was so gentle…and I think I lost what little of my heart I hadn’t already given to him.

Before I knew what happened, we were out of the car, in the house, and I was pressed up against my bedroom door, which he had somehow managed to close. Despite the fact I was about five inches taller than him, it felt like he was towering over me. I only had a moment to wonder where he got all that confidence from when his mouth closed over mine again, and I was undone. I raised my hands, uncertain, and rested them on his hips, and he pushed against me. There was no mistaking I was excited, and my embarrassment flew out the window when he grabbed the hard bulge in my jeans and squeezed.

You hear the expression “came in my pants like a teenager” in gay romance crap all the time. Well, let me tell you, I was a teenager and goddammit if I didn’t almost blow a load right then and there. If I’d had more time to process what was going on and he’d touched bare skin that moment, it would have been over. But I didn’t, and it gave me the nerve to push him back off me and slow things down.

“Are you sure about this, Patrick? I mean, fuck, you know how I feel about you”—and I knew my face went red with that admission—“but, ah…is this what you want?” I braced myself to hear the worst, that no, he really didn’t want it, or that he was just horny and I was handy, or worst of all, that it was just one of his jokes. I could have handled anything but having the love I felt for him be made into something small and cheap.

He moved forward, surprising me by putting his arms around me and hugging me so tightly I swear I felt my ribs creak. His head fit right under my chin and God but it felt good and right. “Matthew, I’ve been such an asshole,” he said so softly I almost missed it. “I’ve taken advantage of your friendship and teased you, and it would serve me right if you kicked my ass out of your room and sent me home alone. I deserve it.” Raising his head and looking up at me, his eyes were shiny. “But you’d have to make me. I—” He swallowed hard and his voice caught. “I love you, Matthew.”

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him closely, noticing how small he felt in my grasp. Couldn’t this moment go on forever? I wanted him, so fucking badly, but even then, as a dumb kid, I think I knew there were no more powerful words than that. More than attraction, greater than sex, he loved me.

“I love you, too.”

We made our way over to my bed. I’d left the lights off and the moonlight shone in through the window, and I watched while he stripped, then came over and pulled my shirt over my head. He unbuckled my shorts and they fell to the ground, and he shoved my underwear down with them. I moved to hold him and tripped over the damn things, bunched around my ankles and caught on my friggin’ shoes of all things. He snickered, and I kicked the damn things off and reached out to push him down on the mattress.

He was smooth, not a hair on his chest and only a little fuzz above his navel. Long arms and legs, he was all lines and angles. And, I saw, thinner than he should be. He’d always been lean, but this was…skinny. But he was the most beautiful thing I think I’d ever seen. He was handsome, young, and smart, had his whole life in front of him, and he loved and wanted me. I stood there, looking, wondering what I’d done to deserve it and if I was enough to make him happy.

Gently, I moved over him and lowered my body on top of his, bracing myself up on knees and elbows and trying to be careful not to crush him. My hard cock bumped against his and I saw stars. He reached down between us and cupped my balls, then took my cock in his hand in a firm grip. I groaned, and he reached behind my head with his other hand and brought my face toward his and kissed me. It felt like heaven, and I wanted it to go on forever, and I wanted it him to move his hand, and I wanted…something.

The kiss left me panting and so damned hard, and Patrick was driving me crazy. Needing more, I moved my mouth from his and licked a line down his jaw to his neck. It must have been good, because he groaned and threw his head back. I grinned against him and moved even lower, down his collarbone, and slipping to catch a nipple in my mouth. He let go of my cock and grabbed my head with both hands, cussing. “Fuck, be careful.”

I laughed and looked up. “Want me to stop?” He growled at me and pushed my mouth back to his chest. I bit hard and he almost came up off the bed. “Shh, want to wake my parents up?”

“Then give me something to put in my mouth,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Maybe soon,” I teased and moved to his other nipple, nibbling on it but not biting down quite as hard. Soon enough, though, I moved, pressing kisses against his belly and brushed my lips against the top of his pubes. When I moved to take him in my mouth, like I’d dreamed about for years, he stopped me.

I looked up, the question on my lips when he spoke. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

That hit me hard. I faltered, then moved up on the bed and lay beside him, facing him on my side and waited for him to explain. After a long moment, Patrick sighed and turned to face me. “
Look
at me, Matthew.”

I never broke eye contact with him. “Patrick…”

“You and I both know there’s something not right with me. I’m losing weight and I’ve been having night sweats and my gums have been bleeding and—“

“Stop it, just stop it.” I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. I watched the news and so did he. Nobody really talked about it but we knew. I knew.

“I’m so sorry. I thought maybe I could do it, if I just didn’t think about it, it wasn’t true, but then…I can’t take that chance. I can’t do anything to hurt you. That would kill me.”

I didn’t know what to say. But I had to try. “Maybe you’re wrong.” When he started to break in, I stopped him and kept talking. “Maybe you’re wrong, and maybe…maybe you’re right. But Patrick, it doesn’t change a thing for me. We don’t have to do anything.” Making sure he saw the truth in my gaze, I reached out and stroked his hair. “I want to. We don’t have to go all the way, but Patrick, you’re it for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, then blazed with a fire that burned through all the fear, the sadness, and the weight in the air of something two young men shouldn’t have to be talking about. I reached for him, and caught his mouth in a kiss that was so raw and needy, it hurt. Our teeth clashed, and I forced him to submit to me, my tongue forcing its way into his mouth. I rolled on top of him, my cock so suddenly hard it hurt and I rubbed it against his.

I moved one hand between us and pinched at the hard nubs of his nipples, and he bucked against me. My other hand slid down and I grabbed both of our cocks in one hand and stroked hard and fast. This might be our first time together, and my first time ever, but by God I knew how to handle a cock. I’d been jacking my own for long enough, dammit. And fuck but his felt so good in my hand, so long and thin against my thicker one.

It was rough and needy and dirty, and when he shot, I felt him writhing and coming apart underneath me. My balls drew up, and I sat up, straddling him with one hand on his cock, milking him through his orgasm while I jacked myself frantically and threw my head back and came all over his belly and chest. I couldn’t breathe and stars danced behind my rolled-back eyes, and I finally, finally sucked in a lungful of air and fell to the side.

We lay like that for a few minutes, my legs trembling and thrown over his until the spasm stopped and my brain started working again. I glanced over at him, and he had his eyes closed, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth. My breath caught in my chest, and I knew he was the love of my life. Some people might think I didn’t know what love was, that I was too young. Fuck them. I knew.

I reached over and threaded my fingers with his and closed my eyes and let myself dream. He was my boy. No Romeo, but he
was
my love and one man show.

Chapter Five

Patrick and I spent as much time together the rest of the summer as we could. We still went out and snuck into the Battalion to see the drag shows. I was surprised, though, when some of the guys came by our table and asked if I was going to do the Deniece Williams number again. A wig somehow appeared and I ended up strutting it across the stage again. Then it became a thing and I caught hell if I didn’t do it whenever Patrick and I showed up. I ended up taking Phil up on his offer. At first Patrick was a little jealous of all the attention I got, and I secretly got off on the glares he shot some of the more devoted of the fans. But I took him home and convinced him I only had eyes for him.

Before long it was time to start college, and Patrick and I both had gotten accepted at the University of Georgia, and we packed up our stuff and headed for the dorms. It couldn’t come soon enough for either of us. I wanted to be able to have some freedom and come out, and Patrick needed to get out from under his father’s thumb.

Classes went well, but Patrick kept getting colds and could never seem to gain back any of the weight he’d lost. His energy level would be up and down, and as the quarter ended, he barely struggled through exams and we went home for the holidays. We spent most of the time at my parents’ home, and I finally worked up enough nerve to tell them I was gay. We cried and they had to mourn they weren’t going to have grandchildren. And they were worried sick to think something might happen to me. That someone might beat me up or hurt me, and they had been hearing about AIDS.

Patrick wasn’t ready for me to out him, though, and I respected that. Our parents knew each other slightly, but they really didn’t like Patrick’s dad so we didn’t have to worry about the word getting back that I was gay. I asked Mom and Dad to keep it to themselves, and they had no problem with it. This was pre-PFLAG and other support groups for families with gay kids, and while they loved me, they weren’t ready to hang out a rainbow flag.

Patrick and I had the run of the house for a glorious week and I planned to take advantage of it. My folks were gone on a cruise, Dad’s gift and it was something my mother had always wanted to do. I’d threatened to go back to school and spend the holiday in the dorm if Mom didn’t agree to it. I thought I was being romantic, so I built a fire in the fireplace, opened a bottle of wine, and spread a quilt in the floor. We’d put on some music, some great new singer I’d found named Anita Baker, and I had him snuggled in my arms.

“I think this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” Patrick murmured drowsily.

I kissed him and then laughed. “It’s not Christmas for another”—I glanced at the clock—“hour and fifteen minutes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he burrowed closer to me, and I felt him shaking.

I reached up and felt his forehead, and his skin was a little warm and sweaty. “What’s wrong, babe? That cold coming back?”

His teeth started to chatter and the shaking was worse. “I t-t-think I have a chill or s-s-something. It’s cold in here.”

I got a cold feeling then. “No, Patrick. It’s really warm in here, and you feel like you have a temperature. I think maybe I should take you to the doctor.”

“On C-C-Christmas Eve? No, I will be ok-k-kay.”

That did it. I was already up and slipping my shoes on. Grabbing a throw from the back of the sofa, I pulled Patrick up and onto his feet and wrapped him in the blanket, ignoring his grumbling and grouching. After getting his tennis shoes on him, I bundled him in the car and drove him to DeKalb Medical Center. No way was I taking him to Grady, the indigent care hospital in town. If he’d been shot or burned, maybe, but no way was my guy going there with all the stabbings and drug overdoses.