Duty and Devotion (7 page)

Evan's eyebrows went up. “Right now?”

“Are you under the impression we're done?”

“We're not?”

“Oh hell no. Get into the bedroom.”

Matt expected an argument, but Evan didn't protest. He got up, wobbling just a little, and stepped over Matt—who enjoyed the view and made appreciative sounds.

“You haven't been taking Viagra or anything, have you?” Evan asked as he headed for the bathroom.

“No, but you seem to have the same effect as a little blue pill.” Matt heaved himself off the floor and followed, licking his lips in anticipation.

“I'm…flattered.” Evan was standing at the door, still naked and striped with come, and Matt growled as he closed the space between them to cup Evan's face in his hands.

“You're gorgeous. I want you so fucking bad,” Matt murmured, bringing their mouths together.

“You've had me. Several times,” Evan said when they broke apart for air. “Not tired?”

“Just getting started.” Matt grinned. “Still my turn, right?”

Evan blinked. “If this is the part where the actual whips and chains come out, we're gonna have to have a talk.”

“Eh, not really a prop guy.” Matt reached down for Evan's hand and yanked him into the bedroom. “But I did bring a few supplies.”

Evan snapped on the weak bedroom lights, leaving them shadowy and shaded in the center of the room.

“Like?”

“Like what we'll need for—you know.” Matt tried not to lick his lips, but it was impossible. He'd been wanting this for so damn long it was starting to verge on an obsession. And now he had very clear evidence that Evan was seriously into the idea. Which made this the absolutely perfect time.

“Uh, yeah.” Evan took a deep breath and stepped back, glancing around the room as if the lube and condoms were going to leap out and yell surprise. “So—do you want to…to go first?”

Matt paused, trying to reconcile conversation brain with lizard let's fuck brain. “First—as in being on top?”

Evan made a face, then looked down as if suddenly realizing he was naked and wearing the evidence of their little escapade on the couch. “Yeah, well—I thought you'd rather be—the other thing.”

“The bottom.” Matt felt the stirrings in his groin start to wilt a bit. “You thought I'd rather be…”

“Well, I've never done it.”

“Uh, yeah, me neither.” Matt watched as Evan walked past him and into the bathroom.

“Oh.” Evan's voice came from across the small hall.

“When did you think I did, if I wasn't with you?” Matt asked, Twilight Zoned right out of the mood.

Evan came out of the bathroom and reached back to turn out the light. “You know—when you and… When we broke up.”

Matt's brain click-click-clicked into place, and he watched Evan walk back into the bedroom, now clean and pulled together, hardly the debauched sexy guy who was there three minutes ago.

“Do you really want to go there now?” Matt asked as Evan sat on the edge of the bed.

Those clear blue eyes looked up at him, cool and shuttered. “I just thought you and he…”

“What? Fucked? I'd just met the guy. I've been sleeping with you for over a year, and we haven't done it. How does that make sense?” Matt was incredulous.

“Well, Jim is gay, isn't he?”

“Yeaaaaah.” Matt was starting to feel like he needed to be wearing clothing for this conversation.

“So that's why I assumed—”

Matt raised his hand. “First off, I don't think it's like the law—you're gay, so you take it up the ass.”

Evan flinched.

“Or that you even have to fuck someone to make it…” Matt dug his hands into his hair and resisted the urge to pull. “If you wanted to know what Jim and I did, you could have asked at a time other than right now.”

“It's relevant.”

“Relevant? You can't use that word when we're about to fuck. You just can't. You also can't bring up other people we've slept with while I'm naked. It's just weird.”

Evan was so calm and collected on the bed that Matt felt like a hairy beast. He stalked over to the duffels and dug around until he found a pair of boxers, then stepped into them angrily.

“I'm sorry. I just—I don't know why you made the assumption I'd want to be on the—bottom.” Evan seemed to struggled with the word.

“Because when we were messing around you seemed into it.” Matt gestured toward the living room.

“And earlier today you were pretty into what I was doing, so, you know, not a slam dunk.” Evan sighed and reached over for the blanket, wrapping it over his legs.

Matt simmered. “True. Okay, that's true. I shouldn't have assumed.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Matt kicked a tuft of worn carpet with his bare foot.

“So do you want to—I mean, you want to, right? I'm not imagining you're into it?”

Evan cleared his throat. “No, you're not wrong about that.” His eyes never raised from the rug. “But I don't know that I'm ready to be—the one it happens to, okay?”

“Okay.” Matt looked over at his shaving kit where the lube and condoms were waiting. “So you want me to go first?”

Evan finally looked up. There was something in his eyes, hesitant but yearning, that sold Matt a bit more on the idea. If Evan wanted this, if they both wanted it—why not? “Yeah. I do.”

Matt nodded, then walked over to the dresser to unzip his leather kit. He pulled out the tabs of condoms and the lube and tossed them onto the bed; they bounced once and came to rest against Evan's blanketed thigh.

“Okay,” he said, courage mounting and waning as much as his dick, which couldn't decided if it was nervous or excited about the prospect.

Evan didn't say anything; he reached out and took the lube and condoms in hand, staring at them for a long quiet moment before looking up at Matt. With his free hand he tossed the blanket off his lap.

“Come here,” he said softly.

Matt had done a lot of things with a lot of women over his lifetime. Crazy things, kinky things. The girlfriend who couldn't come unless he called her a slut. The three-night stand (it was a long weekend) who had a vibrator in her purse and redefined the word “insatiable.” Thank God for that vibrator, because at a certain point his tongue went numb.

The women in coat closets and maintenance rooms and rooftops and the backseats of cars.

In all the scenarios, it was Matt doing whatever it was that needed to be done. Matt on “top.” Matt's dick, leading the charge. But right now, with this man, he was lying again on his stomach, half-limp dick pressing against the covers, not leading anything or anyone anywhere.

He felt cold.

He wished Evan would say something, but for the past few minutes his boyfriend had been entirely too quiet. Evan brushed his hands over Matt's body, gentle and soothing, but it wasn't enough.

Matt needed that edge back, that momentum of excitement and need. Right now he felt like he was waiting passively for something to happen, and that wasn't his style at all.

Evan murmured something, and Matt picked up his head to hear better. The tube of lubricant in his hands, Evan was clearly talking to himself—and reading the instructions.

Matt felt cold and uncomfortable.

“Use as much as you need to,” he said, rubbing his palm against the bedspread. “On your fingers.”

Evan didn't say anything, but then Matt felt a kiss against his shoulder—then Evan's body spooning behind him, warm and close.

“I…I can't do this, okay?” Evan whispered into Matt's neck. His breath was fever hot, and Matt felt the shiver of his body. “I don't want—I thought I did…”

Matt swallowed. “It's all right—we don't have to do this now.”

Evan nodded, pressing closer. Matt could feel he wasn't hard and felt the last stirrings of his own renewed erection fade.

“There's plenty of time. Not like I'm complaining.”

“Or me,” Evan murmured. He wound his arms around Matt's middle, pulling their bodies together, close and tight. “Not saying never, just not right now.”

“Okay.” Matt closed his eyes and tried to figure out if he was relieved or disappointed. “It's okay.”

“Can we just go to sleep?” Evan asked.

Matt nodded.

They disengaged just long enough to get under the covers. Evan stayed naked, so Matt shimmied out of his boxers and threw them onto the floor. Evan shut the light, reaching for Matt as soon as he rolled back under the blankets.

“I love you,” he said fiercely, his fingers tight against Matt's skin.

“I know, I know.” Matt soothed him, aligning their bodies together, face-to-face, arms and legs entwined. Nothing sexual at this point but the absolutely most comforting feeling he could create. “I love you too.”

He repeated it until they both fell asleep.

When Matt woke up the next morning, he was alone in bed. Not surprising when he rolled over and checked the time. It was nearly eleven.

It was physically impossible for Evan to stay in bed that late.

Matt got up slowly, listening for sounds of Evan in the other rooms. He felt sore, from the strange bed and restless night of sleep. He worried about what the day's conversation would bring, how Evan would be after the incident last night.

He was still conceiving terrible scenarios when the bedroom door opened, and Evan appeared, showered and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and carrying a mug of coffee.

“Room service?” he said, shy and hesitant at the doorway.

Matt smiled and waved him in. “Did you bring a chocolate for my pillow?”

“No, but I do have coffee here and bagels in the kitchen.”

“Nice.” Matt took the mug and scooted over, giving Evan room to sit down.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry I didn't get up with the sun like you.”

Evan shrugged. “I slept until seven. That's like sleeping in for me. Went down to the beach, took a walk. Got breakfast. Found a nice restaurant for dinner.”

Matt sipped his coffee. “Great.”

“Listen.” Evan toyed with the waistband of his shorts. “I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what happened. I just…couldn't.”

“I told you it was okay.” Matt rested the mug on the bed next to him. “I just thought it was something you were into.”

Evan tensed slightly. “I don't know if it is or it isn't. It's not something I had to consider before.”

“We're not discussing mutual funds, Evan. It's sex.” Matt put the mug back to his mouth to avoid turning this into a fight. It was too early, and it was their goddamn vacation. He didn't want to fight again.

“It's gay sex, Matt. It's not something I had to think about before.”

The way Evan's mouth curled around “gay” made the coffee turn to ash in Matt's mouth.

“Actually it's not 'gay' sex as much a different way of having sex.” Matt shoved the cup onto the nightstand and hauled out of bed. “And again, I don't get the analyzing. We played around, there seemed to be definite interest on both our parts, and so I don't see how suggesting it is a big deal.”

“I'm sorry.” Evan's voice was stressed enough to make Matt stop his angry rifling through the suitcase for clothes and turn around. “I really am. I thought I could do it, and I couldn't.”

“Fine. Whatever. We don't need to do that,” he said, swim shorts and a T-shirt in hand.

“I didn't say never.”

“Right, and I didn't say it was a deal breaker.” Matt stopped at the doorway and gave Evan a backward glance. “I'm gonna change and eat breakfast; then we'll head out to the beach.”

Evan seemed like he had something else to say, but he just nodded. “Sounds good.”

Matt walked into the bathroom and shut the door with a more forceful slam than he intended, wincing as the cheap plywood door rattled on its hinges.

It wasn't a deal breaker, he thought as he looked in the mirror. But more and more he found himself wondering if Evan's inner turmoil about his sexuality was.

* * *

They both tried extra hard for the rest of the weekend. Maybe too hard. Both were accommodating to the extreme—Matt keeping a manly distance from Evan whenever other people were around, Evan with his hands on Matt every second they were alone. It didn't feel forced as much as it felt desperate, and they drove home Monday morning with a sense of disappointment and a ton of sand packed into the SUV.

Chapter Eight

“So okay, here's a question—why do I care if Evan doesn't think we're gay?” Matt asked Liz as he settled down in the “head-shrinking” leather chair of her home office. His good friend and actual professional psychiatrist looked surprised as she swiveled to face him.

“Wow, that's quite a starter to the conversation. I thought this was a social call.” Liz's brown eyes widened behind her reading glasses.

“It is a social call. That was a friend question.” Matt settled back into the squeaky chair, stretching his legs out as long as they could go. He could nearly reach the Legos her boys had left scattered on the floor.

“It's got shrink undertones.” Liz abandoned the paperwork she was futzing around with and leaned back to give Matt her full attention. “I'm also a little leery of the grammar.”

“Har har. Now help me.”

“Right.” She steepled her fingers to her chin, teeth worrying her lower lip. “So Evan doesn't think he's gay or either of you is gay?”

“Both. Mostly him. He says he doesn't like labels.” Matt rolled his eyes. “I think he's got this whole shame thing going on, but it's like—what does he think we're doing? Is he secretly creeped out by it?”

“Is he going to try and break things off again?”

Matt thumped his head back against the chair. “Liz, please. Not Dr. Liz.”

“You gotta let me blend here, Matt.” Liz smiled. “Both the doctor and I know that's where this is coming from. If Evan is so uncomfortable with the perception or concept of being gay, he might end things again, kick you out of his life.”

Matt nodded, his face twisting into a scowl. He'd rather face a strung-out junkie with a gun and nothing to lose than spend five minutes contemplating life without Evan or the kids. “Yeah.”

“So it makes sense that it would bother you.”

“I'm glad I make sense.”

“It happens on occasion.” She tilted her head at him. “Do you consider yourself gay, Matt?”

“Well, Dr. Liz, I've actually been thinking that over, and yeah—I think so. I mean—technically bisexual since I wasn't faking it with all those women,” he said drily. “But if I look at me and Evan, it's…different with him.”