Play It Again, Charlie (31 page)

He glanced up, and Will got himself up on his elbows. He looked mesmerized. Charlie had to make himself look away.

“Are you always like this in bed? All
silent
and
intense
? Fuck.” Will fell back again. “'Speak! Speak! Why don't you speak?’ Oh God. Charlie.” Will's tone went from teasing to urgent, and Charlie suddenly wanted to grin. He coughed. He wondered how much more it would take to make Will lose it, if he could make Will forget that movies even existed.

It seemed both wrong and tempting, and recently blown or not, Charlie felt a hint of arousal at the idea of Will coming apart under his mouth, thrashing and gasping and pleading for more in words no movie star had ever said.

His face was burning, and he tried to shake the thought away. For now it was enough to make Will come and do what he might not get another chance to do.

“Will?” he asked seriously, keeping his voice low and his mouth next to all the skin he had just wet with his tongue. Will twitched, swore softly at the sky.

“You are so... . If you stop now,” he threatened, and Charlie had the urge to laugh again. He took a deep breath.

“Will,” he said, his voice almost too sharp, but he knew Will was listening by how still he got. Charlie moved up at that, licking over shivering skin and hair. As though that were some sort of reward, Will moaned, nodded, promised to be good. Charlie considered that too.

“Oh sweet Baby J.” Will blinked, then focused on him. His legs came up, bringing his hips up too, asking for more.

“Will,” Charlie breathed out, “I'm going to fuck you with my fingers.” He cleared his throat. “As I blow you, I mean.” He didn't want Will to think he'd forgotten that. “If you don't mind.” God, he knew Will would have told him otherwise, but there was a hint of tension in his gut as he asked, anyway, not overridden by the gathering heat at hearing his own desires out loud.

Will stopped moving, disbelief on his face before he tossed his head and lay back.

“Charlie.” He could have been hyperventilating. “Never... I don't... . Yes, please, oh
fuck
.”

“You have a dirty mouth,” Charlie remarked, and Will tried to laugh. This time when he threw a leg over Charlie and thrust up, Charlie let him.

“For the record, never ask that again. Just do it. You
so
have my permission.” Will flapped one hand imperiously and then slapped them both onto Charlie's shoulders. “Holy shit balls,” he croaked a second later, filthy and eager and not bothering with movie quotes anymore. Charlie went hot inside. “Actually, keep asking that. I want to hear you say that in my
dreams
. I want to think about that when I'm trying to cut some woman's hair. Say it again.”

It was unlikely, ridiculous, but Charlie mumbled into the sweat on Will's thigh, “I'm going to fuck you with my fingers.” With anything he could, if he got the chance. With his tongue, if Will could last that long. He was still wound up from sucking Charlie off, barely able to keep himself still, and Charlie remembered it, how much Will had shifted and rocked into the air, and kept his eyes closed.

It was strange to want to laugh when he also wanted Will to be still so he could make this last. It was like wanting anything Will had to say and wanting Will speechless at the same time. Charlie took his mouth from the base of Will's cock, then kissed his inner thigh before stretching toward the drawer. He frowned when he found what he wanted, his blood pumping quickly again to imagine if he'd been able to fuck Will properly. But it was cold so far away from Will, and he slammed the drawer closed.

Will extended his arms above his head as he did, rubbing his lower body against whatever part of Charlie he could find until Charlie was back over him.

“Though can I ask what—
ooh
.” Charlie warmed the lube on his hand before he put it anywhere near Will's skin. His face was on fire just from what Will was saying, and he kept his attention on what he was doing. “Never mind. Just don't stop.”

“I won't.” Charlie took a moment to look at his alarm clock. He counted down the time, how long this could take. “We have hours, after all.”

Will's breathing actually stopped until Charlie stroked his slick fingers across his asshole. He shuddered violently, went quiet, then shuddered again when Charlie repeated that move.

“You're kidding, right? Because
this
— ” One finger indicated Charlie. He stretched so he could run a light touch over Charlie's mouth. “Could actually kill me.” He arched up the second Charlie's fingers pushed, his muscles relaxed, his leg coming up to hold Charlie to him. He panted eagerly at the barest pressure. Charlie felt his chest get tight, his mind swimming as he relished the feel of the narrow channel, the heat, how Will tensed and then exhaled, thrusting up to him. “Wait... . Don't be kidding.” Will turned his hands over, curled them into the bedding. “Fuck, Charlie,” he exclaimed breathlessly, and Charlie lifted an eyebrow and looked up at him.

“That's the idea,” he told him dryly, and Will's laugh was delightful, if shaky, exactly as amazing as the way he moaned when Charlie finally started to suck him.

“Give it up, I've waited long enough,” Jeanine ordered, sitting down across from him at the small table. The cafe was crowded enough that the noise should have drowned her out. Nonetheless, Charlie looked around and then glared at her.

She had told him to sit down while she'd gotten their coffee, paying for his as well as hers, which was the least she could do, since she had practically had to threaten him to get him to come have coffee with her after work. She had about an hour between her last class and the time when her self-defense class started, and Charlie knew that most of that time was going to be spent making him spill details about what he'd been doing that weekend.

Charlie picked up his cup to use the steam rising from his cappuccino as a cover for his hot face, leaving his saucer on the table. Jeanine shoved her purse to one side of the table, then tapped the edge of the small espresso cup.

“You are not allowed to go all shy on me.” She waved a finger. “But if you're uncomfortable, I can do the talking for you.” Charlie felt his eyes widen, then narrow. “You were cranky as a bear all last week.”

Charlie took a sip and burned his tongue. He winced and set his cup back down. He hadn't even wanted the caffeine. That was strange, considering the small amount of sleep he'd ended up getting last night, but his hurried cups of coffee that morning had been carrying him fine all day.

“Then you tell me you had a date— with a man you've never mentioned, no less. I'm hurt.” She stuck her tongue out, and Charlie only resisted sticking his back out at her because it seemed like a silly thing for a man his age to do. “And I know you got some because you called me to tell me— ”

“I did not!” He finally spoke up, glaring at her, and Jeanine smirked. Charlie settled back down and took another scalding sip.

“
Then
... .” Jeanine was really enjoying this. “Then you
barely
make it to work on time today, and you went through two classes before you noticed your tie was twisted.”

Charlie opened his mouth, then turned his warm face to the wall. His tie
had
been twisted, but that had been Will's fault. He'd gone to wake up Will when he'd been dressed and ready to leave, not sure when or if Will had to get up, not even sure if he ought to leave someone as curious as Will alone in his apartment. Once Charlie had gotten up to shower, Will had rolled over to take his pillow without showing any signs of waking, and he'd still been that way, naked and covered by part of the blanket, when Charlie had held his breath and reached out to wake him up.

Will's eyes had opened, and then he'd frowned.

“Wha... ?” he'd begun, and when Charlie had stared at him, had blinked into consciousness.

“Do you need the alarm set?” Charlie had asked him. “For work?” That had earned him a slow smile, then Will had reached up to tug at Charlie's necktie, almost pulling Charlie down. Their faces hadn't quite been touching.

“Tie,” Will had commented, his voice thick, and then he had shut his eyes again. His hand had fallen heavily back to the bed. “Ten.” Charlie hadn't been sure if that meant to set the alarm for ten or that Will had somewhere to be at ten, but Will had been snuffling into his pillow again before he could ask, smearing sparkles all over the place.

Charlie had smiled around the suspicion that Will wouldn't have wanted him to see him looking like that and crept out. Sam had been curled up at the foot of the bed, apparently happy to have someone in it since Charlie had been leaving.

“Somebody had a long, sexy weekend and a
very
good night,” Jeanine concluded, bringing Charlie back to the moment. “You do know you've been smiling to yourself all day?”

He might have been. His students had been more than a little surprised. It was the kind of thing to make him wonder what his face had looked like before.

“He's not exactly a tenant.” He admitted that much and waited. Jeanine swallowed half her shot and then wiped at her mouth. “He does hair,” he went on carefully, and Jeanine stared back at him.

“
And
?” she asked. Charlie must have had a strange look on his face, confusion probably, because Jeanine smiled again. “Do you like him?” she explained, “More than just... .” He should have been grateful she settled for pumping her fist back and forth in a vague sex gesture instead of saying it out loud.

Jeanine wasn't his family and didn't really care what Will did for a living as long as it wasn't illegal. Charlie had forgotten that for a moment. It nearly made him smile again, but he decided not to mention all of Will's past. He didn't need her warning him off today. He had worries enough of his own, stupid and useless though they might be.

“I don't understand him.” Saying it out loud sent a shiver through him. He put his hands around his cup and took a long drink. It was sweetened soy, hints of vanilla mingling with the bitter espresso, distracting him for a moment. “He's not like anything I'm used to.”

He didn't say the name, but Jeanine's expression tightened for a moment anyway. Charlie hadn't told her about that part of his weekend yet, either.

“He's young,” he said instead. “Twenty-nine,” he added quickly before the alarm on Jeanine's face could get any worse. She chugged the last of her espresso and then set it down onto its saucer with a clang. At least, Charlie
thought
Will was twenty-nine. Close to thirty, anyway. “And he parties.” That wasn't exactly right, but Jeanine's alarmed expression didn't change. “Not like that.” Will
had
seemed sincere about finding all of that boring and he really wasn't that good of a liar. “But his friends do, from what I've seen.”

“This is a tenant?” Jeanine looked like she wanted more espresso. Charlie pushed his cappuccino her way and she took it.

“Not exactly,” he told her again. That was another issue. To be honest, there were a lot of issues, stressing just exactly why the whole thing was a bad idea, why it wasn't even a
thing
at all. “He's apartment-sitting.” No way was he telling Jeanine about Grayson. She'd give him a Look, and one thing he definitely didn't want to talk about today was Grayson or anyone like him that Will might know. “This just happened. I don't think he expected it either. But,” Charlie said, taking a deep breath, “I don't think it will last. So, really, there isn't anything to talk about.”

“Huh.” Jeanine wiped foam from her mouth and drummed her fingers across the table. Charlie sat up and stared back at her. They were both silent for a full minute, and then she leaned forward. “Don't give me that impassive stare, Charlie, I can do it too.” Charlie pulled his coffee back across the table and set his jaw. “Fine!” Jeanine huffed. “But I know the truth.”

It was probably a bluff. Charlie drank some of the cappuccino he didn't want and scowled at her. Jeanine stayed silent and smug.

“What truth?” he demanded, capitulating, and she grinned and raised her eyebrows.

“Snapping at me, even. So the sex was good?” She left the question open, already knowing the answer when Charlie coughed to clear the itch from his throat. “Well, that's something, at least.”

“What truth?” Charlie asked again, making his voice flat. Jeanine blinked, and the people at the table next to them glanced over. Jeanine's stunned quiet gave way to soft laughter. Charlie glared at her until she was silent again and her smile had gentled. She put out a hand and let it rest over his on the table.

“You don't think it will last, but you want it to.” She sighed, and Charlie flinched in surprise. Her hand was strong over his, calloused. “Don't we all?” she mused softly, and she met his gaze.

“I take it the guy never called.”

“Nope.” Jeanine released his hand and leaned back again. “So you can see why I'm excited about this. Why God, Fate, or Buddha sent you to me, Charlie. Finally someone to prove to me that all men aren't assholes.” The people at the next table glanced over at them again, and Charlie turned away from them without comment.

“So,” Jeanine went on, her voice finally lowering. She looked at her watch. “I have a few minutes before I have to drive out. What else did you do this weekend?”

Charlie made a face, then pushed the ceramic cups out of the way. After rethinking it, he pushed the cappuccino back toward her, hoping that it would distract her.

“Mark came by,” he began, and her eyes narrowed.

“You slept with Mark?” she demanded, obviously outraged and very loud. Charlie shut his eyes, didn't look around at the people staring this time. Jeanine grabbed his hand, and Charlie shook hers away.

“Christ. Would you calm down? No!” He was starting to think people enjoyed seeing him squirm.

“Maybe.” Jeanine agreed to nothing, and Charlie's lips quirked despite everything. “Maybe you'd better start from the top, Charlie,” she offered, and Charlie worked his shoulders and forced out a long breath.

“His name is Will,” he started, looking down at the table while he decided just how much to tell her.