Signs (18 page)

It was late; he didn’t need to look at the clock to know that. The curtains were open, though, since neither of them had got up to close them before falling asleep. The moon hung heavy in the sky, unusually large, unusually bright.

That too was a strange sort of comfort.

Without breaking the careful grip he had on Luc’s shoulders, Caleb wrote three letters on Luc’s shoulder blade.

T-E-A. It seemed like an odd offer, but Luc nodded and allowed himself to be gently pulled from the bed and led downstairs.

In the kitchen there was an even better view of the moon and a thick fog that clung to the ground, turning the outside world into a white, swirling unknown. Neither boy thought to put a light on, and it wasn’t really needed.

Luc hopped up to sit on a counter while Caleb went about the familiar routine of boiling water and setting two teabags into heavy china mugs. It was only when the hot water was poured on top and the fragrance released that Luc realized it was chamomile tea, not regular black tea.

Caleb passed him a mug, and he sipped experimentally, not hating the taste.

When Caleb moved to stand in front of him Luc opened his knees, making space there, and Caleb found a comfortable position with the mug of tea warming his hands, his head leaning against Luc’s chest.

For a while they stayed like that, drinking tea, watching the few stars that were visible, waiting for something.

C
ALEB
SET
his mug down. He liked chamomile tea. His mother often made it when she got in from a long shift. She said it was calming and helped her sleep, which was why he thought to offer it to Luc. It seemed to help.

He ran his hands up and down Luc’s bare legs a few times, wondering if he was cold, but there were no goose bumps puckering his skin, so he guessed not. He reached up and cupped Luc’s jaw in his hand, then leaned in to brush his lips over Luc’s.

They were soft kisses, easy and simple. There was a mutual understanding that this was for comfort, for reassurance, for anything the other needed to take from the simple act of lips meeting lips.

When they pulled away, the lines of worry had been erased from Luc’s face.

“
What’s the sign for
,” Luc signed, then finger spelled, “
H-U-S-B-A-N-D
?”

Caleb made the sign.

Luc nodded, satisfied.

“
Family
?” Caleb asked. “
Children
?”

“
Yes
.”

“
Lots
?”

Luc huffed a laugh. “
Maybe
.”

“
Okay. My deafness is genetic
.” At Luc’s expression, he signed, “
G-E-N-E-T-I-C
.”

“
No matter
.”

“
Really
?”

“
Yes. Of course
.”

Caleb swallowed hard. These conversations—they weren’t supposed to be said between two men their age. Not yet. They were the conversations of men much older than themselves… but then again, between the two of them, they’d experienced as much as men twice their age. So maybe it was okay.

Not knowing how else to make promises, unable to speak grand declarations or discuss their plans for the future in the sort of detail he wanted, Caleb lifted Luc’s left hand and pressed a kiss to the fourth finger. He hoped that would suffice.

Luc twisted his hand so it was wrapped in Caleb’s and slithered down from the countertop. With both feet planted back on the floor he leaned up and kissed Caleb’s cheek, then leaned away again so Caleb could read his lips.

“Yes,” he said softly.

Silently, they returned to bed.

By the next morning, the fog had been burned away by the sun, and the night before felt like a dream.

All that was left was two half-finished mugs of chamomile tea as evidence it had happened at all.

14. FLIP

T
HE
NEXT
morning was proof that Luc could sleep through anything. Caleb woke early, as was his habit, probably due to the morning sun streaming through his window. Even though Luc was on the side of the bed closer to the window he was still sleeping, sprawled on his belly, the blanket only just managing to cling to the cute, plump curve of his butt.

Caleb rolled onto his side and tucked his arm up under his head to pillow it.

This weekend had held so many promises, and they’d managed to fulfill all of them and more, so much more. He’d started the weekend with a boyfriend, and now Luc was, what, a fiancé? Even though they wouldn’t get to that point in their lives for a while, years, possibly, it felt like a warm blanket around his shoulders. They were safe. And solid.

Unable to hold back any longer, Caleb reached out and ran his hand down the length of Luc’s back. The skin was silky and soft under his fingertips. It was strange. Despite the birthmark on Luc’s chest, the rest of his skin was almost completely blemish free, not a freckle or birthmark to be found.

Luc arched under his touch and turned on the bed, cracking one eye open the tiniest amount and smiling. He shifted and draped himself over Caleb’s chest, tucking his head under Caleb’s chin.

Caleb was getting used to snoozing in the morning when Luc was in his arms. He’d always considered sleeping in to be a horrible habit, especially when the sky was clear and the air outside likely to be crisp and cool. It was perfect running weather.

That was before he discovered how incredible it felt to hold another person. He laid his cheek on top of Luc’s hair and contemplated how disgustingly in love he had fallen.

After a while he slipped out of bed and crossed the hall to the bathroom. It was only a little after eight. Still late as far as he was concerned and probably terrifyingly early according to Luc.

Tearing himself away from an almost naked, sleeping Luc in his bed was almost painful, but he couldn’t lie there any longer and consoled himself with the thought of cooking breakfast and doing something nice for his boyfriend at the same time.

The real surprise was the cool breeze that drifted into the bathroom as someone (and he could guess who) opened the door and the creak and groan of the tub as Luc climbed in. Caleb stood aside to make room for him under the spray.

Caleb made quick work of washing his body, not wanting to linger watching Luc’s soapy hands roaming over his own chest. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Luc’s cock had sprung to attention, and it was almost all Caleb could do to ignore it.

As soon as he was clean Caleb kissed the tip of Luc’s nose and left him alone with his erection. He forcibly moved his mind away from thoughts of what Luc might do with that erection. That was not going to get breakfast made.

Caleb dressed quickly and roughly toweled his hair before heading to the kitchen. Breakfast food was the best, and he’d taught himself to make whatever his mom didn’t have a recipe for.

Saturday mornings called for the works, and he started batter for pancakes and mentally planned bacon, for him at least, and eggs to go with it. Halfway through making the pancake batter, he remembered how Luc liked coffee and started the percolator. He liked it too, from time to time, but drank it sweet with plenty of milk, whereas Luc liked it strong and black.

By the time Luc arrived, the bacon was cooking, the pancakes were ready to go, and Caleb had just finished whisking cheese into the eggs. Luc inhaled and looked like he was probably going to forgive Caleb for getting him out of bed so early. Luc wrapped his hand around the back of Caleb’s neck and drew him down into a slow kiss, slipping his tongue into the equation.

Then he sat down at the kitchen table, an angelic expression on his face, like he was determined to behave himself.

They ate at the kitchen table, both still a little damp from the shower, Luc definitely not awake yet, although the mug of coffee Caleb had set in front of him certainly helped. He said he didn’t mind that Caleb was eating bacon—it was turkey bacon, which was slightly better, in Luc’s world.

When they were done eating they sat in the kitchen for a while, basking like cats in the warm sun streaming in through the window, nowhere to go and no one to see but each other. Caleb felt the hairs on his arms prickle as he thought about the dirty promises Luc had made over the course of the week, promises he’d been too tired to keep the night before.

Caleb distracted Luc from his lazing with a light tap on the arm.

“
Can I take your picture
?”

“What… like with your portraits?”

Caleb nodded.

“Okay,” Luc said impulsively.

“
Sure
?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Where do you want to do it?”

Caleb paused for a moment, then grabbed hold of Luc’s hand and dragged him down the stairs. Like most of the houses in the area, theirs had an attached garage with a laundry room at the back.

After much begging, Caleb’s mom had agreed to move her washer, and the small space had been set up as Caleb’s studio. There wasn’t space for a darkroom, not if he wanted the studio space there too. In the end he’d conceded that the studio was his first priority, especially while he had access to the darkroom at school.

Stacked against one wall were the canvases he painted on, all in various stages of completion. Painting still wasn’t his first choice of artistic medium, but he did it as a good way of learning technique, or form, or light and shade.

He’d hung a plain white sheet on the farthest wall as a backdrop and took Luc to this area. Caleb held up a finger, asking him to wait, and fetched a chair for him to sit on.

Luc did as instructed, slightly amused but not willing to let Caleb see it lest he thought Luc was laughing at him. Which he definitely wasn’t.

There was a blind over the window that Caleb pulled down, plunging the room into darkness. Then he started setting up a series of lights in different positions. Luc’s initial amusement slipped away as he grew fascinated with the work Caleb was doing, his sureness, and his knowledge of each piece of equipment.

When he pulled out an expensive looking camera from a drawer and took a few test snaps Luc sat bolt upright.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “I wasn’t ready.”

Caleb giggled. “
Practice
,” he signed and slipped the strap from the camera around his neck.

This setup was familiar to Luc. He’d seen enough of Caleb’s portraits already to know the style he preferred. All the pictures were a little rough around the edges, raw enough to not be perfect, and Luc liked that. He didn’t want to be photographed looking sweet and perfect. Caleb caught everything else instead.

Sitting backward astride an old dining chair, Luc let his chin rest on his folded arms and tried not to pose as Caleb took a few pictures, adjusted the lights, then took a few more. He was frowning as he looked back through the pictures on the camera’s small screen.

“What’s wrong? Do I need to do something different?” Luc asked.

Caleb shook his head, still frowning as he looked through the images. He sighed heavily.

“
Not right
,” he signed.

Luc waited a few more moments, then stood and helped Caleb turn all the lights off. Then Caleb led them back to the bedroom.

Caleb nudged Luc until he was lying flat on the bed, diagonally across with his feet dangling over the edge. Then he crawled up until his knees straddled Luc’s waist and smiled.

Feeling a little self-conscious, Luc smoothed his hair back from his face and flicked his tongue over the ring in his lip.

This position was much, much more intimate than the distance the studio had put between them, and it was this that had Luc suddenly filled with nerves. He didn’t mind Caleb taking his picture. He wondered what anyone else would think when they saw the results.

Caleb lifted the camera and took a few shots, then looked through the images, smiling now. When he rocked his hips back and forth, adjusting his position, his ass rubbed tantalizingly over Luc’s groin, making him arch his back up into the rough pleasure.

The camera clicked again, and Luc understood.

He didn’t need to ask what would happen to these images, what Caleb would do with them. Those weren’t the right questions to ask. Instead he let his eyes close a little, looking up at Caleb from under his lashes, twisting his body into something more sensual, more sexual.

Then Caleb took the camera from around his neck, set it carefully on the bed, and pulled his T-shirt off over his head in one smooth motion. He looked down at Luc again, silently asking him to comply.

Luc stripped off too, without hesitation.

He was still self-conscious about the birthmark on his shoulder. He doubted that would ever go away. There was something different about how Caleb looked at him, though. It was like Caleb saw him differently from everyone else, and he liked it.

Caleb lifted the camera again and took a few more shots, then smiled when Luc lifted his arms above his head, stretching sinuously.

Suddenly what had started as an experiment and Caleb’s desire to have a few images of Luc he could look at while at school or when he needed a lift during the day turned into something more.

When Caleb rolled off Luc’s body and stripped off his jeans and socks, leaving him in just his underwear, Luc didn’t hesitate in following his lead. Then Caleb’s focus changed, and he wanted to take close-up pictures: a detailed record of the unusual birthmark, the elegant line of Luc’s collarbones, his wrists with the layers of bracelets that adorned them. Each small, flat nipple, but especially the one with the silver hoop threaded through it.

He made a study of Luc’s feet, then his hands, capturing in stark black-and-white high contrast each fingernail with its ragged, bitten edge and flaking black polish.

When Luc drew him into a kiss Caleb didn’t hesitate, following obediently and slipping his tongue between Luc’s lips. Luc ran his hands up and down Caleb’s bare sides a few times, an easy, soothing gesture. Then his face lit up with an evil grin and his fingers dug into Caleb’s ribs, tickling him hard.