Love Lessons (Love Language Book 2)

by Reese Morrison

  Deal, Zhong said, too quickly. You go to the munch three times and I’ll go to three ace meetings.

  Dammit. He’d been planning that all along. Fine. You better tell me all about it.

  Well, you have to tell me, too.

  Like that hadn’t been what was going to happen anyway.

  ◆◆◆

  Dustin had spent the past few days dreading and anticipating the munch. Now, he stood in front of the restaurant door, rocking back and forth on his feet. He reached for the handle and felt the cool metal under his hand.

  No, he couldn’t do this. He tucked his hand back into his pocket. What the hell was he doing here anyway?

  He hated feeling uncomfortable. He’d managed to set up a whole career and life to avoid putting himself into situations like this. He wasn’t sure whether the overlapping conversations in the restaurant or the theme of those conversations would be worse.

  It was just meeting a group of people after all. Right? They were going to eat some food, chat a bit, and then all go home. It wasn’t like anything kinky was going to happen in the middle of the bagels and waffles.

  He reached toward the handle again, but his mind started to fill in more of the story. The people he was meeting weren’t going to do anything kinky right now. But they would probably talk about kinky things. Then they’d find out that he didn't know anything, that he wasn't really a part of the lifestyle. He was a fraud.

  He couldn’t do this.

  He turned away from the door and felt a hard shove against the entire left side of his body.

  “Sorry,” he said automatically.

  Then he looked up into deep gray eyes. The other man stepped back a fraction, still so close that he could feel the heat of his body, and favored him with a sunny smile. They’d just slammed into each other so hard that Dustin was still scrambling for balance, but for some reason the stranger seemed happy to be standing next to him.

  Dustin was also a bit off balance because the man was stunning. His pale blond hair fell to his shoulders, but somehow that didn’t detract from his masculinity as it framed his face. He was lanky and tall, and still standing so close that Dustin could inhale the warm scent of sweat and spice from his skin.

  Dustin dropped his eyes, startled by his proximity, but found himself tracing the stranger’s long neck with his gaze. His ratty band t-shirt was loose at the collar, and Dustin wished it would slide down just a bit more so that he could see more of that tempting hollow above his clavicle.

  It took Dustin a moment to register that the man was speaking, and he scrambled to catch up.

  “... a problem…. should... you turning.”

  Dustin didn’t catch much of his words, since he’d been too distracted by the stranger’s shoulders to look at his mouth, which usually helped him make sense of speech. But he caught the flavor of the response in that deep, resonant voice and assumed it was an apology.

  More importantly, he noticed that the stranger’s speech was slightly toneless, the words not quite pronounced with the cadence and shape of a hearing person.

  Do you sign? Dustin tentatively asked.

  The man stepped back a little further, and Dustin both appreciated and regretted the distance. Dustin hadn’t come here to do anything but make friends, but there was something about the man’s smile, the way that he looked deeply into his eyes, that made him want to reach out and touch.

  I do! A smile lit his face again. Are you Deaf, too?

  Oh, right. Dustin took a step back himself, but not too far. This was always the moment. At check-out counters and quick interactions with strangers on the street, he tried to speech read and used as much of his hearing as he could, then acted like he understood. It was usually easy to guess or fill in the blanks when someone just wanted to know if you were using credit or debit.

  When he signed with Deaf people who he wasn’t likely to see again, he just said he was Deaf. It was easier, and it gave him a ready welcome. He didn’t have to prove he was “Deaf enough” to be there, though usually Deaf people understood his condition better than hearing people.

  But today he was hoping to meet people that he might see again. And the stranger’s gray eyes were so warm and excited. He decided to be honest.

  Kind of. I’m hearing, but I have an auditory processing disorder. Signing is easier for me because there’s nothing blocking me from understanding when the language is visual. So I’m actually… He drew a line with his index finger from his ear to the top of his head, subverting the sign for DEAF to indicate the lack of connection between his brain and his hearing, instead of between hearing and talking. It was a joke, but it was also pretty accurate.

  The stranger laughed. Makes sense. I’m excited to have somebody new to chat with.

  It was a relief to be accepted so easily. And was the man leaning closer? Was that flirting? Dustin’s heart was racing in his chest.

  I assume you’re going to the munch. The man fingerspelled the word and Dustin wondered if there was a sign for it.

  I… yes. How did you know?

  Most people don’t think so hard about walking into a restaurant for a burger. I’m also one of the organizers and I heard from Bruce that someone who uses ASL was coming. The stranger winked at him. That was definitely flirting.

  But he wasn’t going to let himself think about what all of that flirting meant. Or about how attractive the man was. He was just here to gather information.

  He held open the door and gestured toward it with an “after you” motion.

  Then, with a sense of relief, he pulled out a little case and popped in his ear plugs. They served the dual purpose of cancelling a lot of the noise that he found so overwhelming and alerting people that he might not understand them speaking. There was nothing he hated more than someone assuming he could interpret, since he could sign and supposedly hear, and then having to explain that spoken English mostly sounded like a foreign language to him.

  He slipped the case into his pocket and took a few longer strides to catch up. As the stranger walked in front of him, he let himself look. Just a little.

  Even dressed in a loose t-shirt and casual jeans, the stranger's slim musculature was enticing. While Dustin had never really thought much about longer hair on men, he couldn’t help watching how the straight, pale tresses gently swayed with each of his steps. Instead of making him look feminine, it looked edgy. Like he was a skateboarder. Or maybe a rockstar.

  He wove through the tables with a loose-limbed confidence that Dustin could never hope to emulate. Dustin followed him, assuming that he would know where to go.

  But halfway across the room, he wheeled around, catching Dustin staring at his ass. Dustin felt his face go red.

  Like what you see? He barely shifted his weight, but somehow he was posing now, one foot in front of the other and muscles popping in his arms.

  Dustin wasn’t quite sure what to say. He did, of course, like what he was seeing. He’d always been attracted more to someone’s energy than to any particular gender, and just watching him walk was a turn on. But could he say that?

  For some reason, the man seemed to find his lack of response attractive instead of pathetic. He walked back a few steps to where Dustin was standing. Then he touched his back in a way that was something between a nudge and a bro-y slap between his shoulder blades, but then it lingered as the stranger guided him forward.

  Together, they walked through an open doorway to a separate room at the back of the restaurant. About a dozen people sat around a long table with another dozen or so empty chairs still waiting. One of them looked up, and then a wave of greetings echoed through the room.

  He couldn’t, fortunately, hear much of the conversation, but apparently the stranger was named Landon and he was quite popular with everyone here.

  While Landon greeted people, Dustin slunk around and snagged a chair that was a few seats over from where the next person was sitting.

  Landon went in for a few hugs, and Dustin noticed that
the people he was talking to had figured out how to wait until Landon could see them to speak. Someone waved up and down to get his attention, and then waited until he turned. It was nice that the group seemed to know how to accommodate Landon’s Deafness, or at least as much as they could without signing.

  Dustin needed a moment to observe. He was normally a confident person, but mostly because he arranged things so that he was communicating on his terms. Usually that meant avoiding crowds of new people and either using email and chats, like he did at work, or occasionally finding Deaf friends.

  He expected Landon to join the rest of the group, but instead he pulled out the chair next to Dustin and settled into it, his long legs stretching out, thighs spread, while he slouched against the back. He looked utterly relaxed and yet completely present.

  Dustin, meanwhile, could feel how tense his muscles were. He was sitting straight up in his chair, hands clenched on his knees, and he willed himself to relax his arms.

  Landon grabbed an onion ring from the basket that was just slightly too far away for Dustin to reach, and then swung toward him. I just realized that I don’t know your name.

  I’m Dustin, he fingerspelled, and then tapped a D to the middle of his chest as his namesign.

  Landon gave his name in return, fingerspelling and then pressing an L to his temple.

  Nice to meet you, Dustin. Since you’re new here, I just wanted to say that everyone’s really friendly, and you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. If it gets too loud or busy or anything and you need to take a break, everyone will understand.

  You don’t need to explain yourself to anyone, he continued, and you can ask questions, but people also have the right to not answer them. It’s better if you ask general questions, and people can choose if they want to share more personal information. Or, you can just hang out. So, any questions so far?

  Dustin sucked in a breath, then forced himself to let it out slowly. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead to prepare questions. Now he was wondering if all of Landon’s flirtatiousness was just the performative cheer of a group organizer.

  I don’t have any questions so far.

  So how did you find out about the group?

  Dustin rolled his eyes. So… are you sure you want to hear this?

  Landon nodded eagerly, eyes shining. Dustin hadn’t told this story to anyone else, but he figured that Landon had probably seen a lot of newbies and maybe he could be at least a little bit funny and get him to laugh.

  When my ex-boyfriend broke up with me, I might have gotten drunk and told my best friend… I swear I barely remember this… I apparently told him that I wanted to try things in bed that my ex wasn’t interested in. Which totally wasn’t why we broke up.

  Though it had been part of why they broke up. But he wasn’t going to go down that path right now. He wanted to be funny.

  Landon laughed with him, which made Dustin feel warm. It had been embarrassing at the time, but in retrospect the conversation was kind of humorous.

  Since then, my friend’s been on this mission to get me to, I don’t know, do kinky things. Explore myself. He made a skeptical face as he said it. I think he wants to live vicariously through me. He’s actually the one who found out about this group.

  Sounds like a good friend, Landon commented.

  Dustin rolled his eyes again. I suppose that’s one way to think about it. I think he just wants to hear all the juicy details.

  Oooh… juicy details! Good idea! Landon leaned closer, like he wanted to help create those details. That was flirting. Right?

  I don’t know about that. I’m just--

  But before he could get any farther, Landon was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

  Hey! he signed to the newcomer.

  Dustin turned to find an individual of indeterminate gender wearing a filmy wrap skirt that fluttered around tight jeans. Above that was a shirt with creative tears and interspersed splashes of ribbon that could only have been made by a fashion designer.

  Landon made introductions. This is Dustin. Dustin, this is Ash. Ash uses they/them pronouns. Ash's namesign was the letter A tapped on the inside of the opposite wrist, a location which usually indicated a medical professional.

  Are you a doctor? Dustin asked. He definitely would have guessed artist.

  No, a nurse. I work in a long-term care facility and get to chat with all the Deaf patients. How about you?

  I’m a programmer. I sit in my room all day and chat with my computer. Dustin turned to Landon, who was laughing again. Why did he care so much about making him laugh? What do you do?

  I’m a teacher. I spend all day trying to get twelve-year-olds to listen to me. I love them, but I have to write report cards this week. That part’s wretched. He made the sign for figuratively vomiting.

  Landon’s eyes grew stormy for a moment. And I might not have a job next year, but that’s a different issue.

  Fuck that was… really bad. And to know that in December and still have half a year to teach must be agonizing.

  Landon’s face held both anger and regret, but he quickly transformed it into a smile. Nothing to do about it, though. Let’s talk about something else.

  Dustin didn’t feel good letting it go, but it also wasn’t his place to jump in. For a moment, Landon had looked like he needed someone to talk to, like he was holding a lot behind his cheerful demeanor. Hopefully he had other people in his life for that.

  Ash patted Landon on the shoulder in a display of comfort and then squeezed around the table to sit on the other side so that they could all see each other.

  Trying to jump start the conversation in compliance with Landon’s wishes, he turned to Ash. Did you make your shirt? He would definitely have never worn anything like that himself, but on Ash it really worked.

  Yep. I like to think of my body as a piece of art. They made a flourishing gesture. And it keeps me sane, Ash added with a wink.

  Dustin nodded. Ash was kind of cute with their irrepressible confidence and enthusiasm. If he weren’t so dazzled by Landon sitting next to him, he might even be interested. Not that he was trying to date anyone or anything. What was with him today?

  I like it, he said, simply. It’s not necessarily my style, but I’m still impressed.

  Ash beamed. If you stick around, I might make you something. More subtle, of course. Once I know you better so I can figure out what you’d like.

  They made me a shirt for my birthday that was amazing, Landon added. Which only made Dustin want to think about Landon in some revealing shirt with bits of skin peeking through.

  He forced himself to stay focused on the conversation, even if he was still far too aware of Landon sitting next to him. Landon whose knee sometimes drifted over until it was resting against his thigh and stayed there. Dustin was aware of every square inch of that heat.

  He’d never had anyone hit on him so directly. It was… kind of nice. His APD made him a bit awkward, more awkward than he thought of himself on the inside, but it still meant that he hadn’t done a lot of dating.

  He let those thoughts settle in the back of his head while they talked. The conversation was surprisingly normal. They talked about their work, though Landon stuck to funny stories instead of the impending loss of his job. They compared stories of where they’d learned ASL. Landon had gone to a Deaf school up through middle school then chosen to be mainstreamed for high school, while Ash had done the opposite.

  Dustin shared that he’d learned ASL from an aide in second grade when his APD was finally diagnosed, and then gone to a Deaf school for a few years, before returning to a hearing middle school in classes with an interpreter. He’d been practically failing out of school up until he learned ASL, and he still felt like that enterprising aide had saved his life.

  A few times during the conversation, someone new came into the room and Landon dispensed greetings and hugs. He popped into other conversations and often had people waving in his peripheral vision or tapping his
shoulder to pull him in to other discussions. It seemed like he was the social hub of the group, not just the organizer.

  Whenever he got up, Dustin tried not to watch him, even though it was where his eyes wanted to go. Was he standing as close to that woman as he had to Dustin? Did he just wink at that man? Did everyone get those disarmingly exuberant smiles?

  Around the fourth time that Landon got up--when Dustin had barely taken the first bite of his burger--Dustin started to realize that Landon was way out of his league. He shone like a star, drawing everyone into his orbit and spreading light to the room. And just like the sun, he was completely untouchable.

  Dustin tried not to feel disappointed when he eventually had to acknowledge that Landon probably had been flirting with him. But only because he flirted with everyone. He was the gallant gentleman. The charming boy next door. The life of the party.

  Dustin just got to reflect a bit of his light for a moment, like the lonely moon.

  Dustin turned his attention fully to Ash, reminding himself that he hadn’t known Landon long enough to feel regret. He was here to make friends, and Ash was pretty cool. Landon could be a good friend, too. Or at least someone who he could be friendly with if he came back to the munches.

  Ash had apparently noticed his attention wandering, though. Landon’s cute, isn’t he?

  He certainly seems to be friendly with everyone, Dustin hedged.

  He likes to hop around. He’s a switch. Dustin knew the word, but he wasn’t sure he understood it here. Fortunately, Ash filled him in. He claims he’s mostly a sub--he fingerspelled and then moved one fist below the other to show the sign--but that never stops him enjoying both sides of things. With anyone who moves. Ash rolled their eyes. You can ask him to tell you more--he’s pretty public about it and likes to educate people.

  Dustin nodded, absorbing all of that. They were talking about kinky things now. He’d read about all of this, but talking about it, just like any other normal conversation, was a little nerve racking. Even when Zhong brought it up he usually felt a bit flustered.