Status Update (#gaymers) (9 page)

“Yeah.” Somehow it was easier to say what he didn’t want. “Not...everything. But this is...acceptable.”

“Acceptable, huh? How about we work on turning that into stupendous? Incredible? Mind-blowing?” Adrian’s lips came over his before Noah could work up a reply.

Any worries Noah had over morning breath and inexperience and regrets and boundaries and the massive tangle of doubts in his brain, all ran away in the face of Adrian’s...enthusiasm. Yes. That was it. Adrian kissed like he did a lot of other stuff—with boundless, joyous enthusiasm.

Adrian rocked against him, a more deliberate motion in time with the thrust of his tongue in Noah’s mouth. Noah’s hands clutched at Adrian’s shoulders. He needed something to ground him against all the feelings ricocheting around his insides.

His own erection pressed into the softness of Adrian’s stomach, and he experimented with rolling his hips.

“Yeah. Like that.” Adrian shifted and then—
sweet lord
, his erection rubbed against Noah’s, a thick, insistent pressure. And it didn’t matter that there were layers of fabric in between them, electricity sparked up and down his spine with each gentle rock from Adrian, each answering movement from his hips.

“
So good.
” Adrian sucked on Noah’s earlobe before tugging at the hem of Noah’s long-sleeved T-shirt. Noah stiffened as their naked stomachs met for the first time.

“Okay?” Adrian rucked the shirt up to Noah’s armpits.

“Mmm-hmm.” Noah pulled the offending shirt off before it strangled him.

“
Damn.
You are
so
sexy. I love how fuzzy you are.” Adrian ran his hands all over Noah’s chest and stomach. Leaning forward, he grazed Noah’s chest with his much smoother one, wiggling a little.

“Am I your loofah now?” Noah had to laugh.

“Oh man. You. Me. In a shower way bigger than that fish tank you’ve got in the bathroom. Yes, you can rub all over me.” Adrian kissed him again, a half-laughing playful meeting of lips that went straight to Noah’s heart. “You want to be on top? Rub on me?”

Oh God. More with the questions. “Adrian?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop asking me things. Please. Remember that whole brain-on-hiatus thing?”

“Yeah.” Adrian smiled slowly, one hand tangling in Noah’s hair, holding him steady for a blistering assault on every crevice of his mouth.
Yes.
This was exactly what Noah wanted—no thinking. No questions. Just the hard, heavy press of Adrian’s body and the absolute mastery of his mouth.

Noah moaned, and it seemed like that was the right thing to do because Adrian sped up his motions and got a hand on his hip, pulling him even closer until Noah got the message and wrapped his leg around Adrian.

“Yeah. Just like that, sweetheart.” Adrian’s voice was lower now, rougher.

“
Close.
” The word came out like a prayer, an acknowledgment of the heady miracle of being so close to another person, sharing something that heretofore had been reserved for furtive middle-of-the-night rustlings and guilty showers. Rich morning light streamed over their bodies as they heaved and strained, and all Noah could do was moan.

“Me too. Need skin.” Adrian broke away for an agonizing second to tug both of their pajama pants down. Noah could sense a question in Adrian’s eyes: “
This okay?
” But Noah appreciated his decisive movements far more than his consideration.

Adrian settled back on top of him, nothing between them but skin. Noah didn’t have much time to register that he was naked with another person for the first time, because the first silky drag of Adrian’s erection against his own had him right back on that precipice.

He made a desperate, keening sound.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Adrian kissed his neck.

Another thrust and Noah was coming—the sensation of bare skin and hot man was all too much for him—and it felt like his soul was emptying out, discarding worthless assumptions, releasing years of holding back. It all came out in a skull-pounding rush.

Adrian moaned, and Noah came back to his dizzy self in time to see Adrian sit back on his heels, getting a hand between them. He dragged his dick against the damp hair on Noah’s stomach, coating it with Noah’s come before he too shot thick white jets across Noah’s chest. His face was gorgeous as he came—a mixture of tension and ecstasy, deep groans of satisfaction rumbling out of his thrown-back head.

“Holy, holy cow.” Adrian collapsed next to Noah. “Tell me that was better than acceptable.”

“Slightly.” Noah was surprised to discover he still had the power of speech. “I might be inclined to give it a satisfactory.”

“We’re going to work on your stingy use of adjectives.” Adrian bussed a quick kiss across Noah’s lips. “But first let’s get this round cleaned up?”

This round?
Noah’s head swam with possibilities. His chest pounded as if he’d just biked every hill on campus. He couldn’t grasp what they’d done, let alone the idea of repeating it.

“I’ll grab a towel. And one of us should probably check the traffic report.” Adrian all but whistled as he walked naked down the hall.

Huh.
Apparently while Noah’s life had just detonated, everything was business as usual for Adrian.

Chapter Nine

“Well, crap.” Stomach dropping, Adrian surveyed the white landscape from the door of the motor home. The unplowed road had probably a good two feet of snow on it, and from what he could see, the main road leading into the RV campground wasn’t any better. “I’m not sure if we even need a traffic report. We seem to be trapped.”

“I wonder if they’re not plowing because it’s Thanksgiving?” Still damp from a quick shower, Noah came up behind him. Unfortunately, Adrian was too pissed at Mother Nature to fully appreciate how lickable a fresh and clean Noah was.

“You think that would give them more reason.” Adrian knew he sounded pouty, and he was sure his foot stamping only increased the effect, but he couldn’t stop the bitter disappointment curdling his gut. No pie. No relatives. No forgiveness for arriving sans luggage and sans boyfriend. Nope. Just another Adrian screwup. The way the roads looked, he’d be lucky to still make Saturday’s wedding.

“More bad news.” Noah held up his smart phone. “Weather says this break of sunshine is only temporary. Another wave of the storm is coming. It’s one of those weird polar vortex things, and it’s not likely to warm up enough to melt last night’s round before the next hits. And road crews are focusing on I-70. These outer roads are less likely to get done today.”

“Shit.” Adrian sank down on the couch.

“I’m sorry. Maybe we should have kept on the highway...” Noah chewed the side of his mouth. “A night on the side of the interstate might have been better than getting trapped here.”

“It’s not your fault.” Adrian forced himself to say the words. “It would have been dangerous to keep going. I’m the one who should be apologizing—you were expecting a couple of hours’ detour from your schedule, not days of disruption.”

“I’m not sorry,” Noah said softly.

Heat spread through Adrian’s limbs as his brain played a highlight reel of last night and this morning. Screw the weather. He wouldn’t trade that memory either. And he was relieved Noah wasn’t having second thoughts. He’d escaped the bed in a hurry, afraid to see regret in Noah’s eyes. Noah had told him to stop asking permission, but Adrian still worried that he’d overpowered the guy, pushed him too far, too fast.

“Me either.” He reached for Noah’s wrist, pulled him down to the couch. Noah was a bit stiff, but Adrian wrapped his arms around him. “If it turns out we’re stuck, we’ll just make the best of things.”

“I, uh...” Noah turned an interesting shade of purple and gave a little cough. Ah. Here came the regrets. “I’m not sure it would be prudent to get carried away. I...my work...” He was stumbling around a point that required a lot of mental gymnastics to translate.

“You’re saying we shouldn’t spend all day in bed because you really need to make progress on your book?” Adrian tightened his hold on Noah. He couldn’t fault Noah’s work ethic, but first he’d sneak a little extra cuddling to the man who desperately seemed to need it.

“Something like that.” Even the tips of Noah’s ears were red.

“But you’re not regretting what we did?”

Noah shook his head and relaxed into Adrian’s grip a bit.

“Noah?”

“Yes?”

“I’m not a total horn dog. Or incapable of keeping myself busy. You’ve got a classic sci-fi collection to die for. I’ve got a phone with a hundred apps. And I have patience.”

“Patience?”

“How many chapters do you want to get done today?”

Noah thought for a moment. “Two would be nice.”

“You get through two, and I’ll dream up a suitable reward for you.”

“Uh...” Noah made the choked noise that Adrian was beginning to associate with Noah trying to talk about sex. “I don’t need anything dreamed up. A...eh...
repeat
would be more than reward.”

“Ah. Translation—you feel good about what we did, but you don’t feel comfortable going much further?”

“Yes.” Noah studied the seam of his hiking sock.

“Totally fine.” Adrian kissed his cheek. “And I’ll have you know, there’s lots of variations on frot. I can still blow your mind later.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” Noah shifted around a bit, not pulling loose, similar to how Pixel needed to turn around ten times before settling down. “Adrian?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you always so affectionate?”

Adrian wasn’t sure exactly what the correct answer was. Did he love cuddling his boyfriends? Yes. Possibly because he’d spent so much time apart from them, he was always very touchy-feely in person. Was Noah a boyfriend? Not hardly. Did Noah inspire a weird urge to pet and cuddle him? Most definitely. But what did Noah want to hear? That he was special or that this was simply how Adrian was? Both were true, but Adrian wanted the answer most likely to make Noah relax.

“Does it bother you?” he hedged.

“No, it’s more...I’ve never really been a hugger—my family’s not very outwardly demonstrative and my work life doesn’t really inspire a lot of touching either. So this is new. But, I kind of like it.” He gave Adrian a shy smile that turned his insides into a gooey mess like Aunt Theresa’s cranberry sauce.

Oh good idea.
“What were you planning for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“
Planning
is overstating it a bit, but I got a small turkey breast for the Crock-Pot.”

“You do love that thing, don’t you?” Adrian teased. “Do you have a recipe? I’m not quite the master of cook-ahead like you, but if you have a basic recipe, I can make us a little Thanksgiving while you work.”

“You’ll make me dinner?”

“No, I’ll make
us
a
holiday
. We might be trapped here, but there’s no reason we can’t have a good day.”

* * *

Noah had never had such a productive holiday. Once, a few years back, the department had tried to give him a work-study assistant. Three days of trying to share his office with someone supposedly there to help him had sent Noah running to his department chair begging to have the assistant go assist someone else. But something was different about sharing workspace with Adrian. First, he didn’t have to give Adrian directions. Adrian was his own boss, something that had been clear from the start. He might be without a way home, but he wasn’t short on confidence or direction. Adrian loved taking charge but he wasn’t annoying about it. He simply went about making Noah’s life easier. And Noah...let him.

A plate of eggs and the last of the bacon magically appeared. The dogs went out and in and out again, and Noah didn’t do so much as towel off their paws or find the leashes. Another grilled sandwich appeared around lunchtime, when Adrian was in conversation on his phone in low, hushed tones while searching through Noah’s limited pantry.

“Need help finding something?” Noah asked after swallowing a mouthful of sandwich. Oh look. A fresh mug of tea had been supplied as well.

“Go back to work. My friend Annie is giving me cooking advice.”

“I can help—”

“Back. To. Work. Reward remember? I
really
want to reward you. And I’m having fun here with the dinner surprises.”

Surprises?
Plural?
Ordinarily Noah detested surprises. Unplanned things were only interesting in a scientific sense, and even then they tended to wreck his carefully crafted research and were to be avoided. Part of why he cooked was self-defense—restaurants were distracting, noisy things that seldom lived up to expectations. His Crock-Pot offered comfortingly familiar meals with few surprises.

Adrian handed Noah his headphones. He lingered a minute to rub Noah’s neck. There had been a number of impromptu shoulder massages today too. The little touches were as soothing to Noah’s soul as the food and pet help. He felt wrapped in a cozy blanket of domesticity, like a vacation from the stark reality of his actual life.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

* * *

A few hours later Noah’s trailer was filled with homey scents he associated closely with holidays at Ruth’s house—cinnamon and roasting meat and buttery bread. It was strangely comforting, and he worked through Adrian’s puttering, sinking more into the lovely cocoon of good feelings. Unlike holidays with his own family, there was no lingering ambivalence, no sense of being alone in the midst of happy people. All he had to do was be himself, and Adrian took care of the rest.

Gratitude filled his chest, loosened his joints and made his words flow easier.

“What’s the current Chapter count?” Adrian stood next to him. At some point, he’d knotted a towel around his waist for an apron, and his face was flushed from being over the stove.

Noah checked his computer screen. “Is it really after six? And somehow, I’ve banged out two and a half chapters.”

“Yes!” Adrian sounded even more pleased than Noah. “That’s awesome news. That means you can enjoy your dinner now, right?”

“Yes. And maybe after we could watch a movie?” He’d gotten far enough today he could take a break. And selfishly, he really wanted to see what it would be like to watch a movie awake with Adrian. Would Adrian cuddle him the whole time? A hungry, needy part of him really hoped so.
Careful.
Don’t encourage cravings you won’t be able to satisfy tomorrow.

“That sounds totally perfect. Right after we eat, though, you should take a walk in the moonlight with me. The snow is so pretty, and the dogs are hilarious in it. Now, I want to show you your dinner surprise.”

“My dinner surprise?”

“Don’t freak out okay? I’m sure this violates like ten rules of yours, but I promise to clean everything up.” He pulled Noah toward the bedroom.

“In here?” Noah’s pulse picked up. Were they going to do...
something
before eating?

Adrian opened the door and revealed a little bit of magic. “Since you were working at the dining table, I made us a Thanksgiving picnic in here.”

He’d spread an old sheet over the bed and had arranged two plates, silverware, and a variety of interesting-looking dishes on the bed. Soft music came from Adrian’s phone propped up on the shelf. He had apparently discovered the dimmer switch for the bedroom lights, bathing everything in a soft glow.

“This is amazing.” Noah couldn’t resist the urge to touch Adrian any longer. He gave him a hug—a bit rusty and awkward, but Adrian beamed like he’d offered up a rare artifact. “I’m so glad you like it. I hope everything tastes okay. You mainly had canned goods so I had to improvise. But look at this.” He held up the one loaf pan Noah owned. It smelled like pumpkin and cinnamon. “You didn’t have a pie plate, so it’s a weird shape. But you had canned pumpkin and some pancake mix. It’s not exactly pie, but close enough.”

“But you can’t eat regular pancake mix, right?”

“Yeah. But you can.” Adrian’s eyes were as wide as the generous bounty spread out on the bed.

“You made a pie just for me?” Noah’s throat felt thick.

“Don’t go getting too worked up until you taste it.” Adrian carefully climbed on the bed and motioned for Noah to join him.

Noah sat down, heart quivering with new, strange emotions. He felt as fragile as his mother’s cut-glass dishes. As they ate, they talked about holiday traditions.

“What was your best Thanksgiving?” Adrian asked.

This one.
The words were right there, but Noah forced them back. “My dad was an electrical worker. One year there was a huge power outage on Thanksgiving. He got called out, and we went ahead to my grandparents without him. That was a good year.”

“You don’t like your dad?” Adrian asked. “And no judgment, man. My parents are divorced. It’s been two Thanksgivings in one day for as long as I can remember. My grandmothers harp and fight way worse than my folks, and the hand-offs were often super chilly.”

“My folks never got divorced. It was against their beliefs.” Noah sighed. “Instead my dad picked fights with my mother constantly. And when she wouldn’t take the bait, he’d pick on whatever other relatives happened to be convenient. He wasn’t a very nice man.” That was an understatement but Noah felt like he’d already revealed too much. Adrian’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, as if he knew all the parts Noah was leaving out. Like how often he was the recipient of those tirades.

“My dad wasn’t that bad when he was with us kids, but when he tries and fails to be civil with my mom and her family it’s the worst. That’s part of why I’m not looking forward to the wedding—too much family politics. Is your family dynamic better now that your dad is...passed?”

“Yes. He died eight years ago. I was in graduate school. Last conversation we ever had was him lecturing me over ending my engagement and harping on my needing to find a new girl. But in answer to your question, yes, the dynamics are better, but it’s weird, because we all got so used to dealing with him that living without him has its own issues.”

“Yeah it’s weird how we get used to living with dysfunction.”

Yes.
Noah nodded. That was it exactly. It wasn’t until he was an adult and living on his own that he realized how dysfunctional his parents’ marriage had been.

“Actually, now that I think about it, one of my favorite Thanksgivings was in high school,” Adrian mused, picking at the last of his turkey. “My mom unexpectedly decided to go away with her boyfriend at the time, and my dad’s mother had just had hip replacement surgery so my sisters took over. We had an entire meal devoted to pie. Emily made me a gluten-free apple pie that I feasted on for days
.
That year was the best, but so weird to not have the usual push-pull of the two families.”

“To weirdly unexpectedly good holidays?” Noah raised his water glass.

“Absolutely.” Adrian clinked glasses with him. Their gazes collided, something powerful linking them. And it wasn’t the promise of the sex they’d undoubtedly—
please
—have later or even the satisfaction of good food and better conversation. Friendship
.
It had been so long, Noah had almost forgotten what that deep connection with another person felt like.

This.
It feels like a big bed full of food and laughter.
Noah tried to dismiss such fanciful thoughts, but the warm, languid sensation lingered through the rest of dinner and got stronger during their walk in the snow, especially after Adrian lobbed a few snowballs his direction. And when Noah pointed out the full moon and Adrian grinned wide, as if Noah had personally hung it. The fuzzy, happy feeling reached new heights when Adrian snuggled up to him for the movie. Didn’t even make a move for sex. Simply grabbed Noah and hauled him against his side.