Worth a Thousand Words (6 page)

Devon listened to Dieterman with half an ear. The whole rest of his being was focused on Adrien, and the words that had just fallen from his adorably kissable lips. Staying here would make looking after Adrien much simpler. Devon nodded to himself. Yes, that was the only reason he wanted to be here, and if the whole possible stalker thing turned out to just be him over reacting, well, at least Devon would err on the side of caution. Playing it safe wouldn’t get Adrien killed. Devon wasn’t planning to stay in the man’s house permanently. He was just going to stay long enough to make sure the highly suspicious commenter wasn’t a full blown stalker. After that, everything could go back to business as usual. He ignored the hollowing out sensation thinking about leaving Adrien’s home caused his stomach.

He answered his former fellow soldier by rote. “Yeah, that’s fine, Dieterman. Sure. I’ll meet you over there at around seven, show you where everything is in the place and give you the keys. No, no worries. I’m staying with a friend for a few days anyway. Okay. Okay. See you then.”

Devon was pretty sure he’d just told Dieterman he could stay for the weekend, but he wouldn’t swear to the fact in a court of law. The rumble of the man’s voice had faded away as he spoke, washed to transparency by the clear amber light of Adrien’s steady gaze. Devon’s heart clenched and stuttered, taking up an entirely different rhythm afterwards. The air where he stood suddenly became thick and cloying. Adrien stood still, the welldefined muscles of his chest rising and falling in a normal manner. The air was clearly thinner where he stood… or maybe just moister. Sure, moisture in the air was vital, right? Maybe Devon had a new form of asthma—one where he needed to be right next to Adrien to breathe. Devon didn’t care if it made a single damn bit of sense to anyone else.

Distractedly telling Dieterman goodbye, Devon flipped his phone shut and dropped it on the edge of the bed. Four long strides took him back across the room toward Adrien. A muffled thudding noise behind him told him his phone had probably just fallen off the bed. He ignored the noise in favor of stepping into the bathroom. Something low in his gut felt magnetized, as though while he slept all his organs had been replaced with a highly efficient, futuristic metal. Sure. That could be what was causing him to be drawn to Adrien in the same way a lodestone was drawn to magnetic North. Between one heartbeat and the next, he wrapped a long arm around Adrien’s waist, lifting the smaller man up to a comfortable kissing level. He used his other arm to make sure the bathroom’s high countertop was clear of anything potentially harmful—he swept it all—clattering and banging— into the back corner of the counter. At the sudden motion, Adrien opened his mouth, a startled yelping noise issuing forth. Devon hushed him by pressing their mouths together. The clinking noises continued as various bottles and—good Christ, who except his madre and his lover had this much shit on their bathroom counters?—other bits of fiddly stuff shifted on the pile in the corner. The sounds had Adrien squirming in his arms. Devon plopped Adrien’s delectable ass on the newly cleared counter space, sliding both hands up to frame his lover’s face. He held the kiss through the entire transition, only pulling back when Adrien went boneless and pliant, opening his mouth even wider as he moaned into Devon’s mouth.

Devon rested his forehead against Adrien’s. “Get in the shower, babe. I have to go meet one of my old soldiers later, and if I get in there with you I may not leave this room for several days. Well, maybe I’d make it as far as the bedroom. But even that is iffy. I’m going to go make us some lunch, and then we’ll talk about when your classes are—I know you had the Anthropology exam already, but I don’t have the rest of your schedule.”

Adrien leaned up, eyes closed as he nipped and licked at Devon’s jaw, a high, sweetly needy whine pouring out of him. Devon put his hands on Adrien’s waist to keep him steady and stepped back out of the range of Adrien’s mouth.

“I—oh, Adrien, don’t make that noise. Mira, loco, that will get you fucked until you can’t walk, and make me miss my appointment.”

In the distance, a phone rang. Adrien opened his eyes. The amber color made a thin ring around huge pupils. His bottom lip poked out. “Maybe I don’t need to walk anywhere.”

The phone trilled out another old fashioned sounding ringing noise. Devon turned his head toward the sound. Adrien’s slim hand caught at his wrists, tugging. Devon looked back around. Adrien’s skin gleamed in the bright, theater-dressing room style lights edging the large wall mirror. Steam crept out of the shower, beginning to fill the air above them with a cloud of white. Adrien tugged again. “Don’t worry about the phone Devon. The machine will get it.”

Devon could smell himself on Adrien’s skin, could see the red marks of whisker burn on his throat. His gut clenched, and he took a step forward. The phone—he vaguely recalled an old fashioned looking thing in the hallway on a little table just outside the door to Adrien’s bedroom—rang a third time, and then the sound of Adrien’s voice came from the machine.

“Hey, you’ve reached Adrien and Sam. We can’t get to the phone right now, but leave us a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

Lifting one eyebrow, unable to stop his mouth from quirking in a half smile, Devon poked Adrien in the ribs. “Who has an old-fashioned answering machine anymore?”

Adrien blushed. “I know, Sam laughs about it all the time too.”
Devon caught Adrien’s face in his hands again. “No, no, I—”
The words being spoken onto the machine in the hallway registered. “…knew you’d be hot in bed. Can’t wait to see you up close, touch you. I’ll be seeing you, Adrien…”
Every muscle in Devon’s body froze. “Mierda! I knew this would happen.”
Adrien looked up at him, puzzled. “But that’s just Kevin. He’s in my Sophomore Lit class.” Shrugging, Adrien continued. “He’s kinda a tool, always trying to get me to go out with him, but it’s not like he’s some random freak. I know him.”
Devon ground his teeth together, hard, to stop from calling Adrien an idiot. “Humor me. You stay here, inside with the doors locked. I’ll get Michael to come stay with you tonight while I get Dieterman squared away at my place… then I’ll stay with you until I can check out this Kevin. Okay?”
Adrien was already shaking his head. “No, I can’t stay in tonight. Andy’s party is tonight and Michael has plans with some total troll, and the rest of the Glitter Boyz are gonna be there. We have a big party for ChristmasHanukkah-Kwanza-Yule-and-Whatever every year. And this year it’s a costume party because Benji said we should do more costume parties. Halloween is always the best party and we voted and decided that it probably was best because of the costumes. I can’t stay in tonight.”
Devon closed his eyes and counted to ten. He opened them back up, took another look at Adrien’s wideeyed, utterly innocent visage and started counting again. “No. You can’t go out.”

Adrien’s stiff-armed push surprised Devon into stumbling back a step. Adrien took advantage of the now empty space directly in front of him to hop down from the counter.

“You are not my father. You aren’t even my Papa Carlos. This thing between us is like, a minute old. What makes you think you have the right to tell me where I can and can’t go?” Though he’d started out speaking at a normal volume, by the time he finished he was shouting so hard his throat hurt. The pain in his throat seriously sucked, because the only acceptable reason for his throat hurting like this in Devon’s presence involved performing copious amounts of fellatio on the man’s monster sized cock.

Devon jumped forward, grabbing his upper arms and shaking him, so hard his head flopped back and forth as he roared out another command. “No, you will stay inside and stay safe!”

Adrien brought his hand up, backhanding Devon as hard as he could in the stomach. “Put me down. What the fuck, dude! Get your damn hands off me. I don’t play with the rough stuff even for fun, and I’m not about to start now.”

Devon gasped, instantly releasing his hold, jerking his hands away as though Adrien’s flesh burned him. He backed away until he banged into the edge of the doorframe. “I—fuck—I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t do that. Ever.”

Adrien held up a hand, cutting Devon off. “Whatever. Go shower at your place. Do what the fuck ever. I’m going to Andy’s tonight, and if you want to work out anything between you and I?” Waving one hand between them again, Adrien continued. “You can fucking well show up there speaking and acting politely. In costume, because it’s a god-damned costume Christmas fucking party… for right now, though, get the fuck out of my sight.”

Devon opened his mouth. Steam continued to curl out from the shower, beginning to create a haze in the air between them. Devon closed his mouth, a muscle in his jaw flexing. He turned, striding into the bedroom and scooping up his clothes. He pulled them on hastily, looking anywhere and everywhere but at Adrien. Shoving his feet into his Doc Marten loafers, he finally made eye contact with Adrien again.

“I’ll be there… be sure you double lock the door behind me. Please.” Then Devon turned, striding out the door into the hallway. A moment later, the front door clicked shut.

Adrien crumpled down to the floor in stages, shaking all over. He sat on the cold floor tiles between the little bunched up mess he’d made of his favorite throw rug when he slipped earlier and the vanity. He didn’t do anything else, just sat rocking back and forth, back and forth until the shower ran cold, and the pounding in his ears stopped. Then he wobbled to his feet, stumbled into his bedroom and crawled into bed. Pulling the duvet over his head, he decided the whole damned day needed a do-over. He tossed and turned, and then pulled the pillow Devon had slept on over to bury his face in. With the scent of sweaty sex and Drakkar in his nose, he finally drifted off into a light doze.

About two seconds after he closed the door behind himself, Devon realized he’d left his cell behind. He’d heard it thump to the floor as he went into the bathroom, so it was probably next to or under Adrien’s bed. Jerking his coat on with hard, angry motions, he stormed down the stairs. He could call Rose from a pay phone. They had one up at the Schine, and he could wait there for his Jeep. He’d have to walk right by his apartment to get there, but as he didn’t have a house phone, there was no point in stopping at home.

The cold bite of the air against his face startled some of the anger out of Devon. “Jesus, did I really grab him like that? Fuck. I deserved to get kicked out.”

An elderly woman in a blue knit cap was walking a small floor mop of a dog along the sidewalk in front of the

building. She glanced up at his exclamation. Her eyes opened wide behind the thick lenses of her wire-framed glasses. She stuck her chin out, pulling the little dog to an abrupt stop. The dog yipped, its bright blue bow bobbling on the long fall of hair on its tiny head.

“Oh. For shame. You must be the young man Adrien has been gushing about all week.” She paused to sniff dramatically. “And to think he said you were a nice boy.”
Devon glared at her, his cheeks heating ferociously.

The old woman’s chin dipped once. “He kicked you out, hmmm? Good boy.”
Devon winced. “Yes, and I forgot to grab my phone, so I can’t even call anyone for a ride.”
Her eyes narrowed beneath her neatly penciled in auburn brows. “Hmmmpf. Well, if you promise to not put your hands on me, I’ll let you use my phone. But don’t expect cookies or tea while you wait. And if you lose your mind, well, I’ll sic Betsy on you.”
Devon eyed the little dog currently peeing on the thin sliver of lawn between the sidewalk and the front of the building. “Ah. Right… I promise to mind my manners and keep my hands to myself. Yes, I would appreciate someplace warm to wait for my ride.”
The woman sniffed at him, tugged on her pet’s leash once in warning, and then started back down the sidewalk to the same stairwell that Adrien lived off. . Devon hoped Adrien didn’t happen to see him coming back into the building. He couldn’t afford anymore misunderstandings between them right now.
The elderly woman paused just inside the stairwell’s door. “I live right across from Adrien, so you’d best be quiet as we go up. It wouldn’t do to upset him more than you already have.”
Devon shook his head in bafflement. “Pardon me, Mrs…”
The old woman laughed at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling up until her eyes were mere slits. “Mrs. Simpson. Catherine Marie Simpson.”
Smiling bemusedly at her, Devon continued. “Mrs. Simpson, are you not worried about allowing a selfadmittedly violent man into your home?”
Catherine Marie Simpson fixed a gimlet gaze on him. “No. I’m not. I’m a damn good judge of character, and well, if I’m wrong, there’s always Betsy.”
Devon made a mental note to find out who Mrs. Simpson’s people were and let them know that she played fast and loose with putting herself into dangerous situations. He’d want the same done for his Abuelita, even if the woman had never spoken directly to him again after she found out he was gay. He glanced down at the tiny puff of fur toddling along at the end of Mrs. Simpson’s leash, barely controlling a derisive snort. The dog was barely bigger than the palm of his hand. The idea that Mrs. Simpson counted such an easily defeated pup as her protector put a crimp in his belly.