Play It Again, Charlie (48 page)

“No, you aren't,” Charlie argued, surprised at himself, at how his voice rose to match. Will's head came up. Charlie breathed out and didn't check around him this time before he raised his hands. He tried to keep his tone easy, but it dropped into something serious. “I should have called you.”

“Yeah, you should have, Charlie,” Will agreed, then sucked in a breath. He scooted back toward the ledge, and Charlie got the feeling he was being studied. The silence was unnerving; there was traffic in the distance, the vague murmur of the TV, but nothing from Will. “Charlie?” Will asked finally, but didn't finish that thought.

Charlie dropped his hands, put one to his stomach. He supposed that was it, then. There was nothing to do but turn around and go to his apartment, smile at Will when they ran into each other for the rest of the summer, pretend they hadn't almost been... anything.

“Well,” he whispered, to say something, and he took a step back.

“Go on,” Will rushed out, before Charlie could finish saying good night.

“What?” Charlie blinked. He felt more than a little slow. “Go on?”

“You should have called. You're sorry.
And
... .” Will rolled his wrist. “I've seen a balcony scene or two, Charlie.”

Charlie snuck a look around the courtyard, then another back up at Will. With his chest so tight, his heart was thumping against his ribs. His face felt hot. He thinned his lips as he stared at Will's outline, at Will turning his body into the moonlight and leaning over to rest on his elbows.

He looked like he expected to be serenaded, Charlie thought, the traces of anger disappearing as he realized what Will was asking for. He looked around again, though he couldn't see any witnesses, then at Will, who was still waiting, had
been
waiting, and probably watching his movies because Charlie hadn't been there.

In the movies the men were a lot smoother than Charlie would ever be. If that was what Will wanted, it would still never work. Charlie didn't have music or champagne any more than Paul had. But like with Mark, he couldn't stop himself from trying.

“Somebody like you shouldn't be left waiting.” He started in a whisper, had to clear and raise his voice. It wasn't the kind of flattery Will was expecting; Charlie could barely get any words out at all. He shrugged, trying to loosen his posture. His lips felt cracked, though when he paused to lick them they were already wet. “The moonlight... the moonlight favors you.”

“Favors me?” Will repeated softly as he moved, sliding his palm over the rough cement of the ledge. “You look like you're hunting leopards down there, you know.” He let out long, sad sigh. “If only.”

Charlie stopped, embarrassment shivering through him, annoyed with himself for even trying and with Jeanine for making him think it was possible.

“I like how you talk, Charlie, but I have no idea what you mean.” Will made grumbling, dissatisfied noises. “What do you
want
?”

Charlie glanced at his feet, though Will couldn't see his face. If he could, Charlie wouldn't need to say anything. What he wanted. As though asking for what he wanted had ever gotten it for him.

“Oh,” Will said again, and Charlie brought his head up to glare because that “oh” meant Will thought he understood when Will didn't understand anything. Charlie tore his gaze away for a moment as he tried to think of what to say. Looking back to Will didn't get him anything. He needed light so he could read Will's face.

“I want to come up.” A spanking wasn't anything to the need in his voice, how loud he was. “To see you.”

“What?” Will's head came up. “You want to come up to Grayson's apartment?” Disbelief kept him motionless for a few seconds, and then he shivered, like the night air had finally hit him. “I thought you were pretending it didn't exist.”

Suddenly hearing that was a slap to the face. He hadn't thought Will had noticed his useless jealousy, but of course he had.

Since he was already so obvious to Will, he raised his chin, then slowly brought his eyes up too. He was just as quiet.

“I'd like to come up.”

Will stepped away and then back, smoothing out the ledge with his hands more than once. It had to be rough. Will might like that, sometimes, but it wasn't right that he should harm himself.

“Your hands.”

“I don't care about my hands, Charlie.” Will tried to laugh, and Charlie raised his voice.

“I do. Stop.” He never learned. It was like he wanted to make a fool of himself over and over again. “Please.”

“Charlie.” Will pressed himself to the balcony, leaning down, and Charlie reluctantly brought his attention back to him. “Say that again.”

“That I want to come up?” The first two times had been humiliating enough. Charlie curled his hands tighter at his sides, and Will shook his head.

“No— yes. You are so... .” Will pulled at his hair and then bent over the balcony again, stretching toward Charlie, though it was still too high for them to touch each other. “Annoying,” he announced finally. He stood up in the next moment, nervous excitement shining through even in the dark. “I really don't know what to do with you, but look.” He pointedly took his hands away from the ledge.

“That makes two of us.” Charlie wet his mouth. “What do
you
want to do?” His feet brought him forward. “Tell me.”

“For some reason, I want to invite you up.” Will smiled. Charlie unclenched his hands. He was frowning without really knowing why, maybe because, despite the heat in the pit of his stomach, the tension hadn't gone away.

“Invite me up, Will.” It was his voice. He knew that, he just couldn't believe himself.

“Come on up, Charlie,” Will answered without pausing to inhale. “
Willkommen. Bienvenue. Welcome.
”

The glare as the light switched on was blinding. If he could have seen anything, he would have turned to see if Will was watching him. Charlie didn't allow himself to think about it. He put a hand to the railing and started to walk up without giving himself a chance to hesitate. The odds of him falling and making a fool of himself in front of Will were slim, but he just wanted to make sure; there was enough potential for humiliation already.

Will had been watching him after all. Charlie was four stairs up when Will made a startled sound and disappeared. Charlie thought he heard the glass door slide closed and stopped to frown when he was at the landing, not sure if Will was coming back or if Will would even open the door for him.

He knew which door was Grayson's and headed for it, only to stop again as the door opened and Will came toward him. He had on jeans, open at the fly to reveal he still wore Charlie's underwear. He was barefoot.

“Are you
trying
to hurt yourself?” Will grumbled as he positioned himself at Charlie's side. His hands hovered for a moment, and then they were at Charlie's chest and back, as though Charlie needed help.

“I can walk up stairs.” Insisting didn't get Charlie anything but a glance upward and Will pulling his hands from him, which wasn't what he wanted. He turned his head as Will started to stand up straight, and Will's hair was against his nose and mouth. He inhaled peppermint and wondered if Will's beautifying treatments had included doing something to his hair. “Will,” he said softly as he breathed in the fresh scent.

Will's nose was shiny, and there was something like dried mud by his ear. Charlie knew Will hadn't been doing the treatments to look better for him, but spent a moment imagining that he had. “I'm fine,” he added when Will's mouth tightened, making his voice as firm as he could so Will wouldn't worry, but Will was still moving away.

He licked lingering peppermint from his lips and reached out to grab hold of Will's wrist. He looked out over the empty hallway, at the opened door to Grayson's place, and swallowed. “But thank you.”

“So this is it. Um, Grayson's apartment. Lots of plants, as you can see. No curtains.” Will stopped with a cough as he turned on one of the kitchen lights. He had to step behind Charlie as they walked through the narrow, spotless kitchen.

There was a window straight ahead of them, curtainless, which must be good for the green plants arranged on the rows of shelves. He could have even assumed that was the reason Grayson hadn't bothered with the curtains, until he and Will reached the edge of the kitchen and turned to look out into Grayson's living room— bedroom.

It was definitely a bedroom. The large bed slightly to the left of the center of the small room made that clear. The bedding was black. Charlie could see the sheets since Will must have been sitting in bed and had disturbed the covers. In an entertainment center across from the bed there was a large TV. A movie was still playing, showing Technicolor and early sixties plastic fashion, but he took his eyes away. The only other thing to see was the sliding glass doors, which were only feet from the bed.

The bed, where Charlie's attention kept returning. There was a big, expensive headboard just in case the bed itself didn't draw the eye, framed by two nightstands. A few feet from one nightstand was a door that had to lead to what
should
have been the bedroom and the bathroom.

“In there is Grayson's office, and his gym equipment, and his closet. I know! The room's about the bed, right?” Will's hands were at his back, but they withdrew when Charlie stiffened. Charlie could just feel Will's bare fingertips at his shirt, not quite tugging. He tried to look at Will, but couldn't seem to take his eyes from the bed, from the headboard. There were restraints of some kind dangling from the posts. Another set was in the middle of the headboard itself.

He glanced up, almost expecting a mirror on the ceiling or maybe a camera. But either Grayson had resisted that urge or Will had taken them down.

When Charlie didn't move, or say anything, Will snuck around him to stand at his side. His hands were in the air, practically twitching. Charlie could see them from the corner of his eye.

That bed, in Grayson's room without curtains, was not about sleeping. Charlie reconsidered the black bedding, the ties already conveniently in place, and looked at Will. He could feel the tension in his shoulders, wondered if Will could see it.

“I know what you're thinking. Tacky, right?” Will hummed. “Though so functional for his purposes.”

Grayson's “purposes” had included having Will on that bed at some point— if not recently, then in the past, as Grayson wasn't the type to stay just friends. But on that bed. Will would have wanted to use those restraints, would have trusted someone like Grayson and let himself be tied up. No wonder Will had thought Charlie was from another planet.

“Charlie?” In the dim light, Will's eyes were wide and dark. “I can tell you're thinking something. What sort of sordid thoughts are you having, Professor?”

“You, on that bed,” Charlie admitted immediately, not liking how his voice changed. Will's history shouldn't bother him. But Grayson sure as hell wouldn't have known what Will's movie quotes were about and what it meant to make Will lose them altogether, when Will was just moaning and grasping at anything within reach and couldn't attempt to be funny or clever.

That was who Charlie would want tied to his bed. He'd want to be strong for that.

“Okay,” Will agreed when Charlie didn't add anything else. “Except you don't seem happy about it.” His chin came up, and his nervous fluttering stopped. He stepped away, stopping by the bed. “Oh, you just wanted to
see
. And now you want to go back downstairs.”

“
No
.” It came out too strong, and Will shifted as though surprised. But forceful was the only way Charlie could get the words out, and then he could barely censor himself. “This is where you live.”

“For the moment.” Will tilted his head, waiting for more or demanding an explanation. Just like outside, he seemed to know Charlie was thinking more than he was saying.

Charlie drew in a breath only to say something completely inconsequential. “I thought I'd see more movies.”

“My sister stores them for me.” For once, Will couldn't have cared less about movies. “Look, Charlie, I... .” Charlie moved, toward Will for one moment, and then away, because that had sounded final. But he felt shaky at the idea of Will
wanting
the sort of thing he got from Grayson. It might make Will run, but he had to say something.

“All of that.” Charlie looked over at the bed. “I've never really had that.” At least the dark spared him some of his embarrassment. Will turned to the bed, then tilted his head at Charlie.

“Meaning semi-anonymous sex or the kinky stuff?” he asked after a small pause. His attention was solely on Charlie now. He wasn't running, but Charlie wasn't holding his breath.

“Either.”

“That's
all
I've had.” Will was amazed, and Charlie couldn't blame him, though he did roll his eyes to cover some of his humiliation.

“I know.” He felt warm, either at the admission or from the images of Will in that bed that were still running through his mind. He shrugged as though he wasn't thinking of Will restrained and how unstoppable his words would be if he couldn't move his hands, or if he would like it if Charlie could do that for him. He'd love it; Charlie already knew that.

“And here I thought you were too good to be true,” Will murmured, his lips turning up for one moment. Charlie pressed on, though the words stung. It was better to get it over with so he could go home before his hip gave out or he did something else stupid.

“Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe I'm not what you want.”

“What?” Will blinked rapidly a few times as though his mind had been somewhere else completely. Charlie could guess where from the way his voice had gotten husky. “Wait. Seriously, what? What about what you want?” He wet his mouth nervously, like he regretted the question, then straightened up. “I mean, what's on your mind, Professor? Come on, Daddy.” Will's tone said he was teasing, just like the way he tossed his head and extended one arm in a move straight from
Cleopatra
. But he swallowed and wet his lips again, and that said it wasn't all a joke. “I don't mind. Really.” If anything Will seemed delighted, but then he angled his head back. “But really never?
You
?”