Shiny! (21 page)

“Yeah. And then they’ll know. And it might not be a big deal, because things are getting better. But this whole area is pretty freaking conservative, so it might. It might be a big deal, and you know what teaching is like before tenure….” Kenny’s mom was a teacher. Thirty years of tenure, head of the science department—but Kenny had grown up hearing about it and knowing.

“They can let you go for anything,” Will said, his voice dropping sadly, like he knew this already and had just put two and two together.

“Will, you wear your heart on your sleeve. And I love that about you.”
Okay, Kenny, be real.
“I
love
you, and that’s one of the things I love most.” Kenny swallowed. “But you’re not the most socially aware person on the planet.”

Will smiled gamely. “But… but public school. It should be fine as long as I—”

“Switch your pronouns and pretend you’re not in love with a man and sound out the staff room carefully to see if you’ve got any ultraconservatives in there who think the GSA is an excuse for kids to have sex.”

“I mean, maybe if I just keep to myself—”

“And don’t share any part of you, because you’re afraid?”

“But—”

Kenny closed his eyes and framed Will’s dear, open face with both hands. “Honey, even
I
know you don’t teach evolution in a fundamentalist church school.”

Will’s eyes were bright and red-rimmed, and he swallowed. “But Kenny, I’ve got to pay rent. I mean, it’s what I went to school to
do
!”

“But you’ve got the whole web design thing—”

“But it’s not big enough. Moving into my mother’s house, Kenny—seriously. I was going to have to borrow money from her to make it to my next rent.”

Kenny swallowed and turned away. “Well, move in here.”

“No.”

Kenny turned around, outraged. “
No
? You’re here almost every night as it is!”

“And I like that. But I’m not moving in with you because I can’t make rent. You’ll assume I’m a freeloader, and then, if we even start to make a life together, you’ll tell yourself that I just moved in because I needed a place to stay, and you’ll lump me in with the asshole who tried to steal your bike.”

Kenny fell back, opening his mouth and closing it. He didn’t know what to say—it was true. “I… look, I know you’re not Gif.”

Will sighed and his head drooped a little onto shoulders that were suddenly hunched, like they had been the first night Kenny had taken him out to get drunk.

“I know you do. But you use ‘I love you’ like your Sunday clothes. You bring them both out for special occasions. I’m pretty sure that’s because you never knew if they’d get crapped on or not, but sometimes… sometimes it just hurts, knowing how hard you’re trying not to love me as much as I love you.”

Once, in a moment of carelessness, Gif closed Princess’s big fluffy tail in the bathroom door. He’d felt bad—he wasn’t a
monster
—but the sound Princess made when he’d had to open the door had nothing on what came out of Kenny’s throat at that moment.

And again, he couldn’t argue. He
was
trying not to love Will too much. He
was
saving the words for special occasions. He
did
expect, any day now, for Will to prove as inconstant, as flaky, as untrue, as any other lover he’d ever had.

When so far Will had been anything but.

Kenny turned around to say he was sorry, to say “I love you,” to say
anything
so Will wouldn’t look so hurt. Will beat him to it.

“Kenny, could you, uhm… see, I’m gonna change and probably just go home. We can celebrate this some other day, okay?”

“No!”

But Will’s eyes were bright and his face had flushed crimson, and he looked embarrassed and humiliated, and Kenny didn’t have a single thing to say to him to make it better.

“Look, I just, I mean, I know my apartment is crappy and everything, but you know, I’m twenty-eight. I’d like to sort of be able to say I don’t live with my mom for as long as possible.”

“I think you’re too good for the job,” Kenny said baldly. “Is that so bad? That I think you’re too good to have to go through all that when something you’re good at is
right here
, without all the pain?”

Will’s smile had a twist on the ends. “That’s kind,” he said, and Kenny tried not to scream.

“I’m not a kind person. I’m a shitty person. If I was a better person, I wouldn’t have brought a sewer rat like Gif home and tried to domesticate him like a house cat. If I was a better person, I wouldn’t be hurting you right now—”

“You’re a
great
person!” Will defended staunchly, and Kenny turned his back so Will couldn’t see him wipe his eyes.

“Then don’t go. Stay for dinner. Stay and work. Stay and be my friend. Don’t… don’t break up with me.”

After a breathless quiet, he felt Will at his back, holding his shoulder. Kenny breathed through a pause and then felt a gentle kiss at his temple.

“I’m not breaking up with you. But ask yourself, if I
did
,
what would you call me? Would I be your steady lay? Your friend with benefits? You’ve never put a name to it. I told my mom and aunt Cara I have a boyfriend.”

“Your
aunt Cara
?”

Will’s arms encircled him from behind, and Kenny leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, my aunt Cara. She’s wanted to meet you for
two months
, just like Mom, and I’m never sure what you’re going to do if I ask. Princess can only have so many vet appointments! So think about it. I told my mom I have a boyfriend. What have you told
your
parents?”

Kenny made an uncomfortable sound. “I told them that Gif moved out,” he mumbled. “But in my defense, they weren’t aware that Gif had moved
in
.” Gif had never wanted to come visit on his once-a-month meetings for lunch.

The big body behind him shook heavily, and then a gentle puff of air in his ear was all he got of Will’s laugh.

“They’ve got to know who I am, Kenny. I’m not going away—unless you keep treating me like I am.”

Kenny nodded. “But you’re still going? Tonight, I mean?”

Will sighed weightily enough to riffle Kenny’s hair. “I hurt a little. I need some man time to recover, right?”

God. “You’re the only man I’ve ever met who’s strong enough to admit that,” Kenny told him, trying not to let his voice break. “I’ll go put some dinner in a thing for you.”

He broke away then and made his way into the kitchen. He cut off a big chunk of roast and ladled some vegetables into a plastic container and then put it in a little lunch box. By the time he was done, Will had come out from the bedroom wearing the basketball shorts and T-shirt Kenny had just washed for him. He kept a pair of flip-flops there too, and he had his keys in his hand.

“Hey, you don’t have to—” Will started, and Kenny tried a smile.

“No, hon. At least let me feed you, okay?”

“But you’re really going to trust me with the lunch box?” Will asked, and his smile looked a little better than Kenny’s felt.

“I have to,” Kenny said, proud of the fact that his voice didn’t wobble. “This way I’m sure you’ll be back.” And that was it for dignity. He thrust the box into Will’s hands and turned his back to put away the dinner he knew he wouldn’t eat. By the time he looked up, he’d already heard the door close—not slam, mind you, because Will was a grown-up, but close—and Princess was bitching at him plaintively.

“Meow, meow, meow,” Kenny muttered. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just let him go. I’m a schmuck. But he’s the he-man, right? He’s the one who beat up the bad guy and did the kiss. Shouldn’t he want to fight for me a little?”

Princess got up on her back legs and deliberately extended her claws into Kenny’s knee. Then she pulled.

“Ow, you
bitch
!” Kenny snapped. He bent down to disentangle his flesh from her weapons, and she retracted her claws. She swiped his hand hard enough to leave a blood trail, then ran off, hissing.

Oh. My. God. It was bad enough he’d taken the lunchbox. Apparently he’d taken the cat’s affection too.

And Kenny’s heart. Let’s not forget that, right?

Kenny couldn’t work on the project that night—even if he and Will worked independently, just opening his computer to the pages he needed to finish made him all hiccuppy and stupid. He thought about going to the gym to do laps, but he’d already worked out during his lunch hour, and, well, it was 108 degrees outside and not getting any cooler. He sat and watched television mindlessly until he realized he was watching the Syfy channel and that Will wasn’t there to watch it with him, and he didn’t even know if Will had a TV in his self-proclaimed crappy little apartment.

And then Kenny realized he didn’t even know where Will’s crappy little apartment
was.
He knew it was within biking distance, but beyond that, he had a vague impression of somewhere around San Juan and Fair Oaks, so about three or four miles away.

He sat up suddenly.

God, that was a shitty ride. It hadn’t even occurred to him what a shitty ride that was, and all of the potential for disaster, and getting hit by a car, and all that scary stuff, and Will never wore a helmet.

His heart roared in his ears and his breath caught short and he was having a retroactive panic attack for all of the stupid things Will had done when Kenny wasn’t there to watch out for him. He
had
to talk to him right now.

Will, I want you to buy a bicycle helmet.

What in the hell?

Look, baby, just promise me, okay? I’ll buy you one.

My head’s too big. None of them fit.

I’ll go to a specialty shop.

It’s like 24” around.

I DON’T GIVE A FUCK I’M BUYING YOU A HELMET!

Oooooookaaaay?????

Please. Just, when you come over tomorrow, drive the car.

All right. Is this a sneaky way to get me to commit to coming over tomorrow?

You were coming over anyway, weren’t you?

Yes, of course. We’re not breaking up, Kenny. I still love you.

THEN WHY AREN’T YOU HERE?

Because sad.

Next time you’re sad, stay here. Next time you’re happy, stay here. STAY HERE.

You’re awfully brave from behind a phone.

*sob * I know. Why can’t I be brave in real life?

You are. You can be. I’m going to bed now. I love you, good night.

Kenny didn’t argue about it only being nine thirty. He was going to bed too.

I love you too. Good night.

He sat for another half hour and watched TV. When he realized it had been paused the whole time, he got disgusted with himself, grabbed the newest Jim Butcher, and crawled into bed.

As he was getting comfortable, he saw Will’s suit—his hopeless, stupid, sweaty corduroy suit—and he whimpered.

He was right about the job. He knew that.

But Will was right about the “I love you.” Why would Will want to listen to life advice from a guy who wasn’t invested? And as for Will fighting harder, well, Will had fought plenty hard. Kenny was a perfectly capable man. He could mow his own lawn (although Will was good at it) and chop his own wood (although that was really ecologically unsound, so he didn’t do it), and he probably could have beaten Gif in a fistfight because Gif was a big whiner and would have gone down the first time Kenny’s fist connected with his nose. But Kenny didn’t have to do any of that, because Will did it for him. In fact, Will
wanted
to do it for him, and maybe, just maybe, along with making dinner and ordering the drapes, Kenny could possibly say some “I love yous” and some “I don’t care about your income, I want your company and your forever and please move in with mes.”

And Kenny could definitely meet the guy’s mother.

It was a thought.

One that plagued him as he lay in bed and tried really hard to sleep.

His eyes were drying out.

With a sigh, he got up and grabbed the suit off the door and came back to bed, laying it in Will’s spot, legs out like a pretend man. He took the hangar out and set it on the end table, then laid his head on the still-damp shoulder.

He could smell Will’s sweat as he fell asleep.

“Y
OU
LOOK
like hell,” Cam said, eyeballing him sourly. Of course, Cam was still designing how-to pamphlets for new hires, which could make anyone sour. He was good at it, Kenny had realized lately. He’d probably be good at lots of things, but his personal life was what made him happy, even when it didn’t.

Kenny was storyboarding a segment for the company’s next training video. For sheer glamor, Kenny’s assignment won, and Kenny wondered if Cam sort of resented the hell out of him for that, but other than that, he’d been a pretty decent cubicle mate.

“Yeah,” Kenny mumbled. “Boyfriend troubles.”

“You’re gay? Hm.”

Kenny looked over his shoulder to see Cam wrinkling his nose like he hadn’t known this little tidbit before. After this many months of watching Cam’s jowly face take on every expression from a scowl to a sort of glowy homeboy smile, Kenny could never figure out how he got
one
ex-wife, much less almost three, but that wasn’t really Kenny’s business, was it?

“You didn’t judge me by my clothes?” Kenny asked, almost idly. It didn’t look like Cam was going to freak out about it, so maybe he could joke a little.

Cam shrugged. “No, not really. Kids these days—you all dress bright.”

Oh—so he
had
noticed his cubicle mate a little. All those Dr Peppers must have paid off. “My speech? I never gave it away once?”

Cam’s rolled eyes were almost an abomination in that sincere face. “Man, I try not to judge. And it’s not like we’ve really connected. I mean, you can have all the casual conversations you want with a guy, but if he’s not going to open up about himself, you’re not going to find out. I always got the impression you had loftier goals than this job anyway.”