Kelly grimaced at the airport chaos around him. “Not here. Airports and airplanes never have food I can eat.”
“What do you feel like?”
“A seven-course meal. I’m starved.”
“Well, if you can wait a couple of hours, there’s the best pizza you’ll ever have in your life. Totally Kelly legal.”
Kelly’s stomach rumbled. He pressed his free hand against it. “Can we go now?”
Walter laughed. “No. We have to stop at the house, get dressed for the night, and then we’ll head out.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather stay in.”
Something told Kelly Walter really, really wanted to go out. To be honest, Kelly did a little too. Going out with Walter sounded fun. Not that he didn’t do it all the time, but this was Chicago. “No, I’ll just have a meal bar to tide me over. Where are we going? Downtown?”
“Oh, hell no. Boystown, baby. Local gay mecca. I think you’ll like it. Besides, how can we not?”
“They really called a section of Chicago Boystown?”
“The neighborhood is called Lakeview, but the gay district is Boystown. Kind of like Liberty Avenue in Queer as Folk, except it’s North Halstead. And it’s real.”
Kelly had watched pirated clips of QAF in high school. It was good Liberty Avenue wasn’t real, because a few desperate times he’d thought about running away there. “It sounds great. Is there a diner too?”
“Probably, but not like the show. Pie Hole Pizza is there, though.”
Kelly’s stomach rumbled again. “Let’s get back to your place so we can go eat.”
He did steal a meal bar out of his bag before they stowed it in Walter’s hatchback, and he’d wolfed it down before Walter got the car started. Walter noticed and grinned.
“How about a big soy mocha on the way out? There’s a Starbucks before we hit 294.”
“You’re on.”
Walter bought their drinks, which likely he did because he knew it would annoy Kelly. The drive back was pretty thick with traffic, both on and off the interstate, but according to Walter it wasn’t bad at all.
Kelly decided he would never live in Chicago.
Northbrook was nice, though it and Walter’s housing development pretty much screamed suburb. Wealthy suburb, he added as he noted the cars lining the drives and the level of decor in the yards. Everything felt like a competition of wealth, one Kelly couldn’t come close to matching.
“When I was little and we first moved in,” Walter said, “I used to be so afraid of getting lost in our neighborhood because all the houses were the same. It’s not as bad now, because it’s been twenty years and people have changed the color schemes and the foliage, but man, at first it was so Stepford it was creepy.”
It was pretty Stepford now. “They’re very nice houses.”
“Not really. Expensive and posturing, mostly.” Walter nodded to a blue house coming up on the left. “That’s us with the light on.”
Kelly couldn’t help but notice that Walter grew tense as they pulled into the driveway, and he became worse as they approached the door. Remembering Walter’s sarcastic comments about his broken family and the evasiveness he gave every time Kelly tried to ask about them, he wondered what he was about to walk in to.
It turned out to be a pretty normal house, if not more elegant than Kelly’s own home. It was meticulously clean, and he took his shoes off at the door when he saw the gleaming white tile.
“Oh, you could have left those on.” Walter grabbed the carry-on and motioned him toward the stairs. “Here, I put you in my room.”
“Walter?” A woman in her late fifties came around the corner into the living room. She looked slightly haggard, but she brightened when she saw Kelly. “You must be Kelly.” She came forward with her hand extended. “I’m Shari, Walter’s mom. Nice to meet you.”
Kelly shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Lucas.”
Shari and Walter exchanged a quick glance. She smiled, but for some reason she seemed a little sad. “I know Walter has a big night planned for you two, so I won’t keep you. I have a pizza in the oven for Tibby and me, but let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Kelly called out as he followed his suitcase to Walter’s room.
Walter’s room was, unsurprisingly, very Walter. The bed was a sleek double with a dark, modish headboard and footboard and matching end table and dresser. Posters—framed and mounted—decorated the walls, one of his favorite British band, Saint Etienne, one of the Scissor Sisters, and one that was some abstract art piece full of greens and browns. The room was incredibly clean, like the rest of the house.
Though now that Kelly thought about it, the house smelled incredibly clean. As in, someone had recently cleaned it.
He cast a sidelong look at Walter.
His roommate was busy setting Kelly’s suitcase on the bed and didn’t notice. “I’m in the guest bedroom down the hall, and I already took out whatever I’ll need, so I won’t bug you. Bathroom’s just across, and my sister’s staying over with a horse buddy, so nobody else will be using it. Mom’s bedroom is downstairs, and she has her own bathroom.” He turned to Kelly and rubbed his hands together. “Do you need anything to drink? Anything else to eat? We have apples and carrots and all that. I could make more coffee too.”
Walter was so hyped up Kelly feared what more caffeine would do to him. “I’m good.” He rubbed his arm, trying not to feel self-conscious. “I’ll change, and we can get going.”
“Okay.” Walter stood there a second, still looking like he was a jack-in-the-box ready to pop, then seemed to realize what he was doing and jerked to attention. “Right. I’ll get dressed too and meet you downstairs.”
He left.
Kelly sat on the bed and stared at the door for a few seconds, trying to work out what was going on.
Nothing was going on, he decided at last, and peeled off his shirt. Walter was being Walter. He knew after three months of living with him that this was how Walter rolled, taking care of people. Giving up his bedroom. Cleaning his whole house. After checking the pillowcase, Kelly knew that yes, Walter had bought dust-mite covers because Kelly was going to sleep in his bed for one night.
Sleep in his bed.
Kelly shut his eyes and moved away from the pillow. Alone. Sleep in his bed alone.
He got dressed with somewhat shaking hands, though, and he took extra care fixing his hair in Walter’s mirror. When he was done, he stared at his reflection for several seconds.
Somehow it felt huge, to be in Chicago with Walter. To be going out with him not at school because they were bored, but to Boystown because they were…friends. Because Walter wanted to show it to him. Because Walter wanted him to try some pizza place. Walter had gone out of his way to clean for Kelly. It sounded so benign, but it felt huge. All the fantasies Kelly had been quietly quashing since Tuesday came raging back, and this time he didn’t know how to keep them at bay.
“He isn’t going to date you,” he told his reflection. “This isn’t to woo you. It’s just Walter being Walter. Don’t fuck it up.”
He looked stern as he said it. He tried to carry his own warning with him as he walked down the stairs, but all it took was one look at Walter, who was still wearing his leather jacket but now sporting a tight black T-shirt and soft blue scarf to boot, and Kelly almost lost his knees.
He was going to fuck this up before the night was over. He’d be willing to bet money on it.
Chapter Fourteen
Kelly looked like fucking sex on a stick.
Walter kept his eyes on the road as they traveled down 90/94, but his brain kept playing the mental movie of Kelly coming down the stairs. Kelly in his tight jeans and tight, tight shirt. It was old and soft red. It made Walter want to bite his nipples, which were neatly outlined by the fabric. He hadn’t bitten, though, not even metaphorically. He’d simply told him he looked great and escorted him to the car.
He could see Kelly out of the corner of his eye, though
. And those nipples.
“So.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I thought, after we eat, we’d do a little tour. A lot of the shops stay open until later, and there are the bars too.” He glanced at Kelly. “You did bring your ID, right? The one I got for you?”
Cue blush. “I keep it in the back of my wallet, so yes.”
“Thank God. I was ready for you to tell me it was in your drawer at Hope.”
“No, because you always got annoyed when we wanted to go and I’d have to go to our room first. I’d meant to take it out before I left for Minnesota, but I forgot.”
“Well, move it to the front of your wallet. I’ll take you to Roscoe’s later.” He glanced at Kelly again. “Have you ever been to a gay bar?”
“No. I mean, outside that one time you took us to Sparks in Danby.”
“God, Sparks does not count. Hell, we’ll make a circuit then.”
“Okay.” The reply came out nervous.
Walter reached over and squeezed Kelly’s leg. “They’re not scary. I promise.”
“No, I—” Kelly was looking down at where Walter held on to him.
Walter let go and put his hands back on the wheel.
“I’m not nervous about the bar,” Kelly said, sounding very nervous. “It’s just…I don’t know. Ignore me. I’m weird tonight.”
Weird? Why? Walter frowned. “We can skip the bar and go back to the house after we eat, if you want.”
“No.” Kelly sighed and sank a little in his seat. “Never mind, really.”
Walter tried not to mind, but it was pretty impossible. Before long they were on the streets of Lakeview, which kept him alert, and then he was on a mission to find a parking spot. On the way, Kelly got an accidental tour of the neighborhood.
“They have rainbow pillars?” Kelly asked, glued to the window. “Oh, and there’s a pizza place.”
“That’s not Pie Hole. It’s on Broadway.” He crossed from Halsted to Broadway via Roscoe. “There’s a great music store down the street, and we’re going to pass my favorite grocery store here on the left: Treasure Island foods. It’s a dive, but I love it. And there, that’s Pie Hole.”
“Cool.” Kelly looked around at the street crowded with cars and people. “Where are we going to park?”
“That’s always the problem down here. I think I may cave and go back to one of the garages on Halsted, if you don’t mind walking.”
“Sure.”
They didn’t have to go far up on Halsted to find a ramp, and there was still plenty of parking inside, thank God. Walter led Kelly back down toward Broadway again, this time via Cornelia.
And Gaymart.
Kelly laughed when he saw the store. “Gaymart? For real?”
“For real. All the rainbow kitsch you could want, some fun T-shirts and an excellent comic memorabilia collection.”
“But do they have Doctor Who stuff?” When Kelly saw Walter’s nod, his eyes went wide and he headed for the door.
Walter grabbed his arm. “Pizza first. Now I’m starving too.”
Pie Hole was one of Walter’s favorite restaurants, not just because the food was good but because it was fun and quirky and cute and incredibly gay without making the gayness a meme. There was a logo on the window, “Pie Hole” with the O missing and an invitation that patrons “twitter their hole”, and Walter as usual did as instructed. He pressed his mouth in place of the missing vowel, forming an O of his own against the glass, and he had Kelly take a picture so he could post it online. Kelly wouldn’t reciprocate, but he did let Walter take his picture holding a T-shirt that read, I want a large sausage.
Walter decided he’d buy it later and give it to Kelly for Christmas.
The place was crowded, so Kelly and Walter stood together at the bar along the wall after giving their order. Kelly kept taking in the decor as they waited, pointing things out or letting his gaze linger on talent, of which there was plenty. Most of the patrons were slightly older than Walter, gay men about to hit the town but fueling up on pizza first.
“I wonder if I’ll ever live like this,” Kelly said around his drink straw.
Walter leaned an elbow on the counter. “Like what?”
Kelly gestured to the room. “Out with my friends in the city. Laughing and making bad jokes and heading off to the bar.” He paused, tossing a shy smile at Walter. “I mean, we do that. But not like this. Not with jobs and apartments. Real life.”
“It was a little like that when I lived off campus.” A stool freed up behind them, and Walter passed it to Kelly. “I know what you mean. It felt like air. Like I had space around me to breathe. Admittedly, sometimes too much space, when Greg and Cara were gone.”
“How did you ever get the school to let you live off campus as a sophomore?”
Walter grinned and stirred his soda. “I didn’t. I paid for a dorm room but lived with Cara, paying a third of the rent. It was the only way they could afford it.”
“Your parents never noticed you were spending that much extra money?”
No, they hadn’t, not until March. Walter’s smile died. “I told you, it’s a grand before Dad remembers my account is even there.”
Kelly frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Walter tried to brush it off, but Kelly reached for his hand. His fingers were warm against Walter’s cool ones, and he met Walter’s gaze without faltering.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, more firmly this time.
Walter should have pulled his hand back, but, well, he didn’t feel like it. “It’s okay.”
“It isn’t.” Kelly still didn’t let go. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, paying double just to find somewhere decent to live.” The corner of his mouth lifted up a little. “I’d say I’m sorry they didn’t let you live off campus this year, but I’m not.”
“That’s okay.” Walter squeezed Kelly’s hand, letting his thumb catch the underside of his wrist. “I’m not sorry either.”
“Okay, lovers.” The call came from a waiter as he settled their plates on the space between them. “Order’s up. Don’t fuck in the restroom, and if you do anyway, be sure to clean up, or Doug’ll be pissed.”
This time it wasn’t only Kelly who blushed.
Gaymart proved to be as awesome as Kelly had hoped, and his biggest problem was figuring out what not to buy. He had fifty dollars’ worth of merchandise in his basket at one point, mostly Doctor Who figures, but he ended up putting everything back except for the Rory one. He hesitated over several T-shirts, oddly drawn to one that read Corruptible, but mostly he had to fend off Walter’s offerings of shirts suggesting people Try the Sausage with an arrow pointing to his crotch, or ones with a picture of a rooster and COCK emblazoned over the animal. In the end he got the Rory figure, a Dalek and a raunchy lesbian card for Rose. They ran his purchases back to the car, and on the way to Roscoe’s they stopped at another store which Kelly never saw the name of but was full of the most awesome club clothing and kitschy jewelry he’d ever seen. When he got to the retro leather in the basement, though, he nearly swooned.
“You’d look good in this,” Walter suggested, handing him a leather motorcycle jacket. “You’d look good in the chaps too, but I know better than to think you’d try them on.”
The chaps actually were sexy, but Kelly didn’t dare admit that. He couldn’t resist the coat, and when he got a peek at himself in the mirror, he shivered. “Oh God. It’s amazing.”
Walter stepped up behind him, placing a hand on his waist. In the mirror, Kelly could see his admiration. “God, you look fuckable in that. You have to get it.”
Kelly wanted to get it, and now he wished he hadn’t bought anything at Gaymart. It did look amazing on him, and better yet, it made him feel amazing. He fished for the tag, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. He found it, but before he could catch the price, Walter closed his hand over it.
“No. I got this.”
“What? No.” Kelly met Walter’s gaze
in the mirror, trying to be outraged, but Walter had such a hungry look on his face, it was hard to focus. He forced himself to do so anyway. “Walter, you can’t buy this for me.”
“Fine, then I’ll buy it for me and make you wear it.”
Kelly started to protest, but Walter nuzzled his ear. Stop, Kelly thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He let his eyes drift closed, swimming in the sensation of Walter’s touch. The hand on his waist tightened, and Walter’s breath on his ear sent him the rest of the way to fully erect.
“It’s just money.” Walter’s lips were still on Kelly’s ear. “It’s better than that shirt you kept picking up. You don’t look corruptible in this jacket. You look already corrupted.”
Kelly’s eyes blinked open, slowly as if he were waking from a dream, except he didn’t wake, not from his lust. He caught sight of Walter in the mirror, watched Walter ogle him, and he realized, yes, Walter was right. He was already corrupted. He wanted to let Walter buy this for him, and he’d wear it every day because he’d think of Walter every time he did, knowing he’d given it to him. The only way it could be better would be if Walter wore it occasionally so it smelled like him.
Every time he wore it, he’d think about how much he wanted Walter, and how he’d never have him.
Oh God, he was in so much trouble.
Pushing away from Walter, Kelly shrugged out of the jacket. “No,” he said, very firmly. “I don’t want it.”
Walter seemed hurt, which annoyed Kelly, and he didn’t stick around to argue with him because he was afraid of what he’d say. He headed back up the stairs and browsed through a rack of costume jewelry without seeing any of it until Walter came up behind him. He didn’t touch Kelly.
“Ready to head to the bar?”
Kelly couldn’t read anything in the tone, if Walter was angry or disappointed or what. Kelly tried to respond in kind. “Sure.”
There was a small line at the door, and Kelly worried he’d have trouble getting in with his fake, but if the doorman suspected, he didn’t say anything. In fact, he winked at Kelly as he stamped his hand.
Love Lessons Page 14
