A Wealth of Unsaid Words (17 page)

to know what I asked for, for Christmas?”

Alex froze, his mouth open as he caught his breath.

There was a rush of sound in his ears. He could guess what

Everett had asked for, but of course he didn"t know and

couldn"t afford to take anything for granted.

“Is it the same thing you wished for when blowing out

your birthday candles?” he asked lightly, smiling because he

hadn"t thought Everett took things like holiday magic and

birthday wishes seriously, and he was pretending that he

had never had the same thoughts.

“Yes.” Everett frowned, but he wasn"t angry. “There"s no

such thing as perfect, Alex. I can even prove it.” He seemed

to be concentrating. “Wait.” He reached out for his jeans and

began digging through the pockets. He brandished a crushed

sprig of mistletoe a moment later and grinned.

Alex stopped smiling.

“You took it?”

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“You aren"t the only petty thief in the family.” Everett

was very proud of himself. “It"s safer in my hands anyway.

Pushy, wasn"t he?” Pushy wasn"t the word, but Alex nodded.

Everett focused back on him.

“You didn"t kiss him, though.” He was steady, if just for

the moment, peering intently into Alex"s eyes.

“No.” There was nothing else to say.

“Not your type?” The unexpected question made Alex

take a step back. For once he couldn"t track Everett"s

thoughts. Evidently seeing that, Everett elaborated. “I don"t

know. You haven"t talked about that kind of thing with me

since we were kids.”

“Haven"t I?” There were people who had never seen him

with Everett who would be shocked to see him this

speechless.

“I figured you were being kind to me.”

Charmed and bewildered, Alex straightened, then gave

up and sat down on the bed. He stared at Everett, who

stared back at him and waited. When no further answer was

forthcoming, Alex cleared his throat.

“For once I"m the one who doesn"t follow someone else"s

reasoning, but kindness is not something I"m especially

known for.” Unforgiving honesty was more like it, even Ally

had known that. Everett angled his head sideways, which

brought his body sideways with it, until he was in Alex"s

space again.

“Only by people who don"t know you.”

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“You know me.” He didn"t know why he said it, but he

had to respond to Everett"s sincerity. Everett lifted his head

an inch.

“I… used to think I did. Now I don"t know.” His every

breath was tempting, but Alex held himself still. Everett

continued, his whispers almost a moan.

“When we were younger and you"d look at me like that,

I"d want to touch you in ways I didn"t understand.” Everett

was killing him. If Everett cared for him, he wouldn"t say

these things, not with his face so close and his eyes so

intent. “And I could. I did. And then I couldn"t anymore.”

He did not ask why, but Alex could hear his pain and

looked away.

“I wasn"t in my right mind, Everett.” It was the truth, if

not the whole truth. Everett was so drunk, he wasn"t sure

anything would sink in. Everett"s chest moved. Alex listened

to him breathe, in and out, and recalled waking up in a

hospital bed to Everett watching him sleep.

“How about now?” The question startled him. Alex

turned back to Everett, cold inside, burning on the surface.

“Would I be your type now?”

What a question. Everett
was
the type.

Alex closed his eyes and felt his hands close tight

around a gift that was long gone. There was too much to say.

Even drunk, Everett had him trapped.

“Oh you, Everett.” His voice trembled. “You play dirty.”

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“It"s a long game we"ve played.” He had to be imagining

his own words in Everett"s mouth, had to be, but he couldn"t

open his eyes, not yet.

“No shy miss or stuttering saint,” he said back, taking

slow, delicate steps. “Not you. You coax me along on our

adventure, adrift on a square of wool.” It was nonsense, but

Everett made a sound that made Alex look at him.

Everett drew in a long breath and very slowly raised the

mistletoe. “So if I…?”

Those damn lights outside the window were letting Alex

see everything. He"d had to use moonlight when he"d been

sneaking in that window. Sometimes he had used that

window even after he"d lived here and had had every right to

use the door. The symbolism wasn"t lost on him. He"d snuck

like a thief into his own new home, but it had been Everett

stealing kisses from him in front of that window.

He realized he was trembling at the very moment Everett

raised his other hand and put it to his cheek. Alex looked

up, though he didn"t want to. He could only imagine what

Everett was seeing in his face.

“I"m scared, Everett.” It was best to acknowledge it

before Everett could ask. There was so much to be afraid of,

and there"d be no place to run to if this was the wrong time.

This thing with Everett had always been about wanting him

forever, which was maybe why he"d never taken it further,

not even drunk and desperately hard, alone in the woods

with Everett next to him and whispering sweetly into his ear.

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Everett swayed forward, the mistletoe about the only

thing steady about him, and was upright again before Alex

could put a hand to his cheek to feel where Everett had

kissed him. He realized his mouth was open at the same

moment he realized he was frowning, and then Everett

leaned back in to kiss him properly.

Everett"s lips were parted, warm. Alex put a hand to the

back of Everett"s neck and then inhaled sharply when

Everett"s hands slid over his ribs and stopped. They were

both breathing carefully, sharing fear and shock and heat. A

noise slipped from Alex, uncertain, asking, but it became a

moan when Everett slowly moved his hands under Alex"s

clothes to touch his skin.

He didn"t know where the mistletoe had gone, and he

didn"t care, not in that moment, kissing but not moving, not

daring to until he couldn"t take it anymore and pulled

Everett closer.

Everett shuddered. His gasp was wet, his mouth like

chocolate and alcohol. Alex pushed forward, sliding his

fingers through Everett"s hair to bring his head back, and

reveling, just as Everett had said he did, in the dark, hungry

sounds Everett made as relief turned to need. He wanted

each groan, each weak admission that Everett might feel

even a fraction of what was tearing him in two.

“Alex.” As though he did, Everett"s cries were broken,

and loud, too loud. Carrying across inches and oceans and

light years and definitely down the hall.

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Alex tore himself away at the thought and squeezed his

eyes shut at what he was doing. Everett let out a sound like

a whine but fell against him. He left his hands splayed wide

over Alex"s skin, but didn"t attempt anything more. He was

shaking. Alex ran his fingertips gently down the back of

Everett"s neck once more and then again, until Everett took

a long breath.

Everett was loud probably because he was drunk, Alex

told himself, and to make this even more fantastically fucked

up, the bedroom door was still open.

“Your parents are just down the hall,” Alex whispered,

almost apologizing. What a strange thing it was for him of all

people to say, but it made Everett laugh, a choked snort

against Alex"s face. It was the kind of thing children who

didn"t want to get in trouble would say. What they"d just

been doing was hardly reading comics after bedtime or

looking at forbidden pornography together—although it was

at least somewhat closer to that first electric realization that

neither of them were really interested in the women in those