by Willa Okati
Oh no. Ford was on his feet a second later, digging bills out of his wallet without looking at them or really caring that he might just have overtipped by 100 percent, and went after his man.
* * *
Gavin might be surprisingly fast for a little guy, but Ford had the reach of longer strides to his advantage, regret motivating his turn of speed, and absolutely no shame when it came to hurtling his way through a confused crowd -- or when it came to catching Gavin and putting him in a corner. He looked more like a frightened deer than ever, trapped and pale, his eyes huge.
Ford gentled his touch but did not let go. “I don’t like using my size this way,” he said, making sure each word came out clearly without broadcasting to everyone. “I can’t let you get away without knowing what I did wrong. What happened, and why so fast?”
Gavin had to lick his lips twice before he got out one small breath of a question. “You’re too -- I can’t --”
“Don’t shut me out.” Ford slid his palm up Gavin’s shoulder to brush the back of his hand over Gavin’s cheek. He loved the shape of the man’s face at all times, but he liked it better when it was happier
Gavin’s eyes fluttered shut, lashes long enough to reach the moon fanning out over his cheeks. Ford could see them even beneath his glasses.
“I…” Gavin’s teeth left white dents in his lip. “Why? Why do you care?”
A glint of yellow light spilling from the door to the kitchen, buttery and soft but still a clear sign. Yellow stood for caution. The because I think I’m in love with you -- no, I know I am would have to go unspoken. For now. Ford went for the less bald but still true: “Because you’re in my heart.”
Gavin squeezed his eyes shut tighter and took a shaky breath. “Please don’t say things like that. Just… don’t.” He rubbed the side of his face Ford wasn’t touching. “And don’t ask me why. I won’t say. I told you. Issues.”
“And I told you, I’m not going anywhere.” Ford studied Gavin, searching for signs in him instead of the world around him. Making himself look past the beauty and the promise of the omens that had led him there to the man beneath. Past the surface tension and deep, deeper, deepest.
What Ford saw was what Kayla had warned him of: Gavin was broken. Shattered somewhere within himself. His heart. Trying so hard to glue it back together. The sweep of yellow light washed over Gavin again, illuminating his eyes, his nose, his lips.
I should have seen it long before now, Ford thought, dismayed. He didn’t know who’d broken Gavin’s heart in the past and stomped on it so hard as to leave it in this shape, but be blessed if he wouldn’t make it his personal mission in life to hunt the bastard down and hang him by his toes from the tallest tree he could find.
In the meantime, Ford understood what he had to do. He had to show Gavin it could be good again. That he didn’t have to spend the rest of his life hiding in the shadows, alone and so lonely. He didn’t think even Gavin knew how lonely he was, even if he sat out in the sun gathering freckles just trying to feel warm again.
Gavin hadn’t been given to him by virtue of a sign. “It’s the other way around, isn’t it?”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s okay.” Ford kissed him, meaning for it to be short and sweet, but somewhere along the middle changing from affectionate to yearning, wanting to pour out all the love he had and fill Gavin up like a cup until he overflowed.
Ford swallowed his sigh as well as Gavin’s, Gavin’s one of wistful yearning.
He could hear music. Now that the fireworks had ended, a cellist had begun to play something Ford didn’t recognize and definitely not something meant to dance to, but Ford was nothing if not good at improvisation.
And Ford wanted a happy ending. He released Gavin, only to take him again by the hand and coax him toward an open space near the edge of the terrace. “Dance with me,” he cajoled, hoping Gavin would follow after him.
At first Ford thought he wouldn’t. But then… he did.
* * *
Ford led Gavin into the darker corner of the small space on the terrace just clear enough for a romantic-minded couple to sway slowly to the music. If they were really careful. And small.
Ford did the best he could, and the rest didn’t matter. He had Gavin in his arms, and his size came in handy for turning his back to the crowd and shielding Gavin from curious eyes.
He hoped it’d be enough. That it’d loosen Gavin up enough to yield and let Ford take care of him.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Gavin uncurled his white-knuckled fists. His nails, trimmed short, had left faint red half-moons in his palms that Ford glimpsed when Gavin slid them up his chest to his lapels and smoothed over the fabric.
Ford thought he could chance tipping Gavin’s chin up. Gavin’s glasses had slid down his nose; Ford pushed them back up with his forefinger but wished he could take them off. He’d love to see Gavin’s eyes without glass and stainless steel in the way.
Not that Gavin’s eyes weren’t almost luminous in the low light, his gaze roving over Ford, studying him intently. His lips parted to try and shape words that Ford couldn’t guess at before they emerged.
They weren’t what he expected. “Kiss me. If you don’t, I’ll kiss you. Your choice.”
“You kiss me,” Ford said, not thinking about it. He bent, not minding the stretch at all if it got him there. “You lead this time. I’ll follow.”
And so Gavin did. Nothing shy about him now. He nudged Ford’s lips open and slipped the tip of his tongue inside Ford’s mouth, beginning an almost lazy stroking over the top, a mimicry of sex whose intent no one, not even a blunderbuss like Ford, could mistake.
Maybe a little too intense. Ford had an uneasy feeling that he couldn’t really focus on, not when Gavin moved just so to fit their lower bodies together.
Ford held Gavin steady with an arm around his waist to keep him close and look into Gavin’s eyes. His expression was darker now. He looked stubborn, set on the course of action he’d chosen.
“You’re sure?” Ford had to ask. Just to be positive. To make sure this wasn’t Gavin trying to prove… whatever.
Gavin rose just high enough to bite the point of Ford’s chin. “Don’t ask. Not again. Just. Come home with me. Now.”
Chapter Four
Ford wasn’t the first man Gavin had brought home thinking just this once. Maybe not after Donny, but by God, Donny had started as a onetime thing, an impulse decision made after too many glasses of wine, after falling for the hungry promise in eyes so dark a blue, they verged toward the color of the midnight sky.
Donny had been on Gavin the second his apartment door shut, rushing him in a nearly ravenous passion. Demanding, assuming, dragging Gavin along in his wake. “Laugh when I laugh! Run when I run! I love you. Gavin, let’s run away together. Why not? Just you and me.”
But Ford? Except for the hard swell in his slacks that betrayed him, once inside Gavin’s apartment he seemed happy enough to take his time. Almost relaxed, comfortable in his skin, and… at home. Eager, yes, but content. Confident but not arrogant. He had to know Gavin was his for the asking tonight.
So why didn’t he just take? Why wasn’t he what Gavin had thought he’d be?
What really makes you different from any of the others? From Donny? Why can’t I make up my mind about it?
“Here. Hey now, don’t flinch like that.” The light touch at his back was only Ford helping him off with his suit jacket. The impossible man actually brushed it straight and hung it over the back of a chair.
Enough. Gavin faced Ford, toe to toe, and reached for him. Light this candle already. He was the one who burned, unused to it, and he needed -- what?
Ford drew the pad of his thumb over Gavin’s lip. Oh God. He was about to be hugged again, wasn’t he?
Or not. Movement drew Gavin’s attention as well as Ford’s. A glimpse of slinking fur and wary green-amber eyes that glinted in the light of the one lamp Gavin had turned on inside the door. Oscar, cur
ious enough over this unexpected turn of events, had sneaked out of hiding to get a better look.
It figured, Gavin thought, that it would be a man like Ford who drew Oscar out of hiding. Ford dropped slowly to a kneel and extended his arm exactly as Gavin had warned him not to, his hand out for Oscar to sniff.
The sight made the something strange sharpen in Gavin’s chest. Like two edges of an iceberg grinding together, he thought. It hurt, this breaking open.
Do something about it. Gavin moved away from Ford, soundless in his stocking feet, walking backward. “Ford,” he said, no louder than a breath, but enough to bring Ford’s gaze back to him.
Ford forgot Oscar. He stood, though carefully. Gavin’s lips twitched. He wanted to think, poor guy. He probably regretted hunkering down with his zipper in a precarious position over such a generous hard-on.
Or maybe not. Gavin didn’t think Ford would regret much of anything, even if it did hurt.
Enough. Gavin stopped in the doorway to his bedroom and… didn’t know what to do next. As if he were a blushing virgin. Ridiculous.
There. Gavin saw it now. The hunger, barely restrained. Ford on the edge. Hanging on that edge. Curiosity nibbled at Gavin. Curiosity and…
Gavin reached for the first button on his shirt. Slipped it through its hole. Checked for Ford’s reaction and saw the deepening of his hunger when the first bit of bare skin showed. Two buttons, three, leaving Gavin bare down to the top of his stomach now.
He didn’t know why he stopped there, only that his fingers shook too much to get a proper grasp on the next button. Impatient, he jerked his shirt untucked and tried at the bottom. No luck.
Of course that was what got Ford on the move, easing into his space. His presence made Gavin shut his eyes and want to lean into it. One huge hand cupped the back of Gavin’s head to guide him, and though his lashes still brushed his cheeks and he couldn’t see, he knew he was about to be kissed.
No one kissed Gavin like Ford kissed him. As if he was something special, and as if Ford had nothing else on his mind but this moment, the here and now.
The one big hand not guiding Gavin, holding him, feather-stroked down the skin bared by Gavin’s open shirt to the space where Gavin had stopped. Ford fingered the button, a tiny questioning noise passing from his mouth to Gavin’s.
God. That he would ask. Gavin wanted to… something. Something to shake him up and get him playing rough.
“Let me,” Ford said. He drew Gavin’s lower lip between his and brushed their noses together. “Let me take care of you.”
God help him. Gavin couldn’t do this anymore, wonder and wait for the other shoe to drop. Gavin choked down the knot of fear, opened his eyes to see Ford’s face and not remember Donny’s -- he had to -- and nodded. Just once.
It was enough for Ford.
* * *
Gavin didn’t turn on any lights in his bedroom as he led Ford inside, still walking backward. He didn’t want to let go of Ford, and he only had the one anyway, a switch by the door that cued a stark ceiling light.
He kept his bedroom as clean as the rest of his apartment. No shoes to trip over or socks to get tangled up in as they moved toward the bed, barely able to stop kissing long enough to tug uselessly at one piece of clothing after another. Nothing to make them stumble but themselves.
“Stop thinking so hard,” Ford said beneath Gavin’s ear. He did that. Always to the side, making Gavin want more and need to surge through the millimeters dividing them and take Ford for himself.
“I --”
“Sh.” Ford must have had eyes like a cat to back Gavin up without a misstep in the dark, guiding him surely to the bed and easing him down. Like this, Ford stood at the perfect height for Gavin to --
But Ford stopped him seconds before Gavin would have had his mouth, his hands on Ford’s rigid cock. He growled with frustration when Ford nudged him away.
“Give me a second?” At least Ford sounded as strained as he ought to, after playing the noble for so long. His laugh was shaky. “I thought I saw…”
Gavin heard Ford withdrawing, surprisingly light-footed for a man his size, to the dresser and the assorted neat bric-a-brac any man kept there. A dish for coins, a place where his key ring would go, a letter.
“Aha,” Ford said on a breath. Gavin knew what he’d found. A museum welcome gift he kept meaning to donate or stuff in a drawer where it could be properly forgotten. A small, fat pillar candle with gold leaf wound about it in strange, mesmerizing spirals. Oddly beautiful, though it shouldn’t have been. Gavin had never had a reason to burn it. Leave it to Ford to zero in.
Gavin heard the whoof-whoof of Ford blowing dust off the pillar. “I don’t have any matches,” he said. “Or a lighter.”
“I do.” A rustle in what Gavin guessed was Ford’s pocket, the distinctive crack of a match struck on the strip across the back of a book, and a flare of light. The abrupt brightness in the dark room made Gavin squint and shade his eyes.
Ford touched the flame to the wick and blew on it to make sure it caught. He waved the book of matches at Gavin, his grin unashamed. “Got them from the restaurant,” he said. “A memento.”
Gavin covered his face with his hand, but he still heard Ford’s quiet laughter. “Yes, I am that much of a romantic.” He paused. “I just want to see you. Please.”
Gavin didn’t know what it was about Ford that kept making him want to say yes or unable to say no; he couldn’t tell which was which, or perhaps it was both, and they’d blurred together. He nodded instead, unable to speak again.
So strange. With the light of the candle, Gavin could see how what he’d thought was neat tidiness and lack of clutter seemed somehow empty, almost barren with Ford in the room, so much larger than life and -- oh God -- so easy to love, if he let himself.
Gavin’s pulse skittered. He scooted backward on the bed, running as best as he could without being on his feet. Then stopped. If he was going to have his night, he’d have his night. He centered himself and then let go, as much as he could. “Yes,” he said, dropping his head back to rest on the pillow. “Ford. Come here.”
And here was another way in which Ford was not like anyone Gavin could compare him to. He followed Gavin onto the bed, but not on top of him. Off to one side, only his leg eased carefully between Gavin’s.
Not enough. Ford was doing it to Gavin again, making him the one to chase. Gavin grumbled and twisted, trying to pull the bulk of Ford atop him.
Might as well try to shift a boulder with his bare hands, made even more impossible when Ford resisted. Frustrating enough that Gavin pulled back from Ford’s first attempt at a kiss in the bed already warming from their bodies.
Ford made a questioning noise.
“You’re too far away,” Gavin said, embarrassed at having to spell it out, though it helped that he didn’t think Ford was deliberately playing games. There was something else here Gavin didn’t understand. He tugged again. “Closer?”
Every time he managed to surprise Ford, Gavin wondered which of them was the more startled. Ford blinked, then reached to touch Gavin’s bare shoulder. He swept from there down to Gavin’s wrist and rested his fingertips over the pulse thumping away beneath the thin skin. “You want me on top?”
Gavin frowned, perplexed. “Yes.” Memory struck. “Wait. What you said at the museum… You aren’t really a bottom, are you?”
There. Gavin hadn’t known how much he missed Ford’s body-shaking, now bed-shaking, full-throated laugh until it had been silent for too long. “Not usually,” he said when his mirth eased, though the smile remained laced through his words. “I do like it. I wish I could bottom more than I have in the past.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ford sobered. “Usually…” He didn’t look away, though Gavin suspected he might have wanted to. Was he embarrassed?
So strange.
“I’m too big for most guys to think I’m serious about wanting to bottom.” A touch of uneasiness there. �
�And I don’t want to crush you.” He touched Gavin’s face, unbearably tender. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
Stop saying that. Gavin bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. No more arguing. He pulled on Ford a third time, and this time Ford came, staring at him as if he were something wonderful and not quite to be believed. “You really don’t mind?”
Honest frustration smoothed over the cracks in Gavin’s nerve. “No, I don’t mind. I want you like this.”
Ford asked. Of course he did. At least he did so while on the move. “Why?”
Gavin didn’t answer until he had Ford securely on top of him. Braced enough that Gavin could breathe, but broad and long enough to block out the rest of the world. These were words he would have had to force out usually, and he didn’t know why now they spilled out on their own, truth that surprised him as it crossed his tongue. “With you over me, around me… it’s shelter,” he said. “Safe. Solid.”
“Ah, Gavin.” Ford kissed him, fitting their mouths together as if they’d been made to fit. He didn’t stop there, moving from lips to chin to beneath Gavin’s jaw and down his neck. “Let me make it good for you.”
Gavin nodded. Rough, but he’d said all he could say.
He knew Ford understood.
And yet this was nothing like Gavin had expected. Nothing. Ford kept him not pinned but secure in place on the bed as he moved above Gavin. Taking his time.
The solid comfort of Ford above him was no less than what Gavin wanted. But Ford wouldn’t let him give anything back. Whenever he tried to reach or grab, Ford slipped just out of range or moved so that he closed on empty air or only got enough of a touch to tantalize him.
Ford was quiet. Gavin wouldn’t have bet on that either. Some men never shut up in bed; God knew Donny hadn’t. Dirty talk and promises meant to drive him crazy, and they’d worked.
Only Gavin hadn’t known what “crazy” really meant until now. Not before Ford glided down Gavin’s body inch by inch, his lips soft and his hands firm. Reverent.
