The Way You Are

by Matthew Lang

  “You don’t have to do that,” Warrick said, craning his neck to meet Leon’s gaze.

  Leon shrugged as he pulled off, bringing up his hand to stroke Warrick’s erection. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Warrick’s chuckle was warm and lodged somewhere deep within Leon’s chest. “I guess not.”

  Leon shook his head and kissed his way up Warrick’s body, losing himself in another series of slow, languorous kisses. Large hands slid into his trunks, cupped his ass, and slid lower to tease his crack. Then Warrick deftly pushed down the back before pulling the front of Leon’s underwear out and over his erection, and Leon’s cock hit Warrick’s torso with a fleshy slap.

  “Hmm, what’s that, then?” Warrick asked.

  “You know exactly what that is,” Leon murmured against Warrick’s lips, and then gasped as a finger swirled over his cockhead, and again when his lover brought the finger to his lips and licked off Leon’s sticky precum.

  With a long, appreciative “hmmm,” Warrick flipped Leon onto his back and all but dove onto Leon’s cock, one hand holding Leon in place and the other teasing his balls and sliding down lower to the opening beneath.

  Leon writhed on the bed, torn between pushing deeper into the moist heat of Warrick’s mouth or back against the finger nudging his ass. Then, just as he was about to go mad from indecision, both the mouth and the finger were gone.

  “Warrick,” Leon whined.

  “Lube?”

  Leon reached out and fumbled with the top drawer of his nightstand. “Here,” he said, pulling out a small tube and a strip of foil packets. He sank back into the pillows, every fiber of his body taut with anticipation as he heard the bed creak and felt Warrick’s weight shift above him. The bed dipped, the cap of the lubricant tube opened with an audible snap, and Leon fancied he could hear the hiss of air rushing back into it after a generous glob was dispensed. Then he heard the crinkle of foil and a cold slickness was spreading into his most intimate of places, causing him to flinch.

  “Sorry,” Warrick’s voice came softly from somewhere above him. “Too fast?”

  “No, just… cold,” Leon said, pushing back slightly.

  “Okay,” Warrick said. “Just let me know if you need me to slow down.”

  And that was the last bit of conversation Leon processed coherently as Warrick’s fingers slid into him, surprisingly deft and gentle for their size. A longing ache spread through his body, warm and urgent, making his nerves sing with every twitch of the fingertips within. Then Warrick’s tongue snaked out and lapped gently at the underside of his cockhead, running around the flared ridge before Warrick swallowed him down, fingers curling just enough to hit the spot inside that always turned him into a sputtering mess. For a time that was both too brief and a blissful eternity, all he felt was the heat and tightness of Warrick’s mouth and the surge of pleasure each time Warrick grazed against his prostate. Too soon he felt himself stiffen in Warrick’s mouth and became aware of his fingers gripping the other man’s head.

  “Warrick,” he groaned, “I’m—”

  The fingers withdrew, and he felt one of his hands being firmly but gently removed from Warrick’s scalp. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Warrick asked, his eyes glinting as they met Leon’s bewildered gaze. Absently, Warrick snagged a string of precum before it could fall from Leon’s cock to his belly and sighed with happiness as he licked it from his finger. “You know, I can’t decide if I want to ride you or slide into you.”

  Leon grabbed his lover’s hand before Warrick could complete another tasting and brought Warrick’s fingers to his own mouth, tasting himself as he suckled gently, watching Warrick’s eyes carefully as he did. “Well, both sound… delicious,” he said, guiding Warrick’s hand back to his own rampant cock, “but given that I’m already all lubed, relaxed, and ready….”

  Warrick needed no further urging and reached over to grab the foil-wrapped condom before looking around for something to wipe the lube from his hand.

  “Give that here,” Leon said, taking it from him and tearing it open.

  “Thanks,” Warrick said, holding his hand out for the rubber sheath.

  “Nuh-uh. Come here,” Leon said with a grin.

  Warrick flushed and moved over on the bed, his hips thrusting forward almost obscenely. Taking the tip of the condom in his mouth, Leon used his lips and tongue to roll it down Warrick’s length, finding he required a few attempts to get it right as he tried to avoid using his teeth. When he finally got everything in place, he sat back and stared down at his handiwork.

  “That was much less sexy than I thought it would be,” Leon said.

  Warrick opened his eyes and stared at him. “You’ve never done that before?”

  Leon shrugged. “No, saw it in a film.”

  Warrick’s chuckle was slightly strained. “Well, it felt bloody good at this end.”

  Even clad in rubber, Warrick was impressive, his member twitching rhythmically as Leon gazed down at it, fancying he could see the precum oozing into the rubber reservoir at the top of the prophylactic.

  “So I see,” Leon said speculatively.

  Warrick shook his head. “No, give me a minute, babe. If you don’t….”

  Leon’s grin grew, and he pushed Warrick back down onto the bed, kneeling astride his hips and reaching behind him to grasp Warrick’s cock, bringing it up to his entrance and pushing back slightly.

  “Leeeeon….” Warrick’s cry was a wish and a prayer, and his hands clamped around Leon’s hips, halting Leon’s attempts to take Warrick fully inside of him.

  “God, I’m glad you’re not as thick as you are long,” Leon said, wriggling a bit.

  Warrick’s hands tensed, and Leon winced, wondering if he’d have bruises the next day. “Please go slow,” Warrick whispered. “I’m not going to last very long if you don’t.”

  Leon smiled and leaned down to kiss Warrick soundly. “I thought I’d be saying that to you.”

  Warrick used his teeth to tug at Leon’s lower lip and thrust his hips ever so gently upward, sliding that little bit deeper in. “I thought I’d be on top. Well, you know, actually on top.”

  Leon sighed with pleasure and slid down another inch. “So did I, but—” He gasped as Warrick nudged his prostate, and talk was forgotten. Instead, he rose up slightly and rocked back against Warrick’s erection, grinding faster and faster against his lover, pausing only slightly when he felt the heat of Warrick’s groin press up against his ass. Bracing himself against Warrick’s powerful shoulders, Leon moved faster, moaning as Warrick’s thrusts met his own movements. When a lube-slicked hand reached out to stroke him, he lost it, covering Warrick’s belly with pearly white cum. Almost at the same time, Warrick’s hips slammed hard against his ass and fingers tensed on his hips, holding him close as Warrick spent his load deep inside Leon, his face locked in contortions of pleasure. For a moment they stayed perfectly still, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing, and then Leon slumped down against Warrick’s larger frame, nuzzling his lover’s neck.

  “Can we do that every night?” he asked.

  Warrick’s laugh was both surprised and tired. “I don’t know. We can try. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to cum for a few days after that performance, though.”

  “That good, huh?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  There was never any question about Warrick staying. After a few arbitrary attempts at cleaning themselves up, they both fell into Leon’s bed and slept, Leon finding himself cradled comfortably against Warrick’s strongly muscled frame.

  AT PRECISELY 7:23 a.m., the Earth rotated enough that the morning sunlight slanted over the backyard fence, past the outside corner of the living room, and slipped between the venetian blinds to play softly over the rumpled gray-and-white striped sheets on Leon’s double bed. Grumbling about daylight savings, Leon opened his eyes, blearily squinting into the light. His body felt sated, languid, and slightly sore in strange places, and he smiled a
s he recalled the events of the previous night. Stretching slowly he rolled over to face his lover.

  “Warrick, are you—”

  Leon rolled over to find the other side of his bed empty and the mattress cool.

  “—awake?”

  Leon sighed and glanced around his room. It was a small space, containing his bookshelf, desk, floordrobe, and paper piles{11}. Yeah, should have cleaned the place up, he thought, sagging back into the pillows. Fuck! This was exactly why he never brought guys home. Or dated. Or flirted. Or—

  A high-pitched squeal from the kitchen had him bolting out of bed and nearly tripping over a pair of khaki shorts. Warrick was half-crouched in the kitchen doorway, clutching an empty dish to his front. A slightly bedraggled Krissy was in the living room, one manicured hand covering her glasses.

  “You’re Warrick, right?” she said.

  “Uh… yeah.”

  “Krissy. Hi.”

  “Oh wow, you’re Krissy? Leon’s told me so much about you.”

  “And he’s told me a lot about you, but not in so much detail.”

  “Oh my God, you’re making me breakfast?” Leon asked.

  “That’s your takeaway from this situation?” Krissy demanded, turning to glare at Leon. “He’s naked and….” Krissy turned around to face the door so quickly her shoes squeaked. “Why am I the only one here wearing pants?”

  “Well, we were—” Leon started.

  “Do not finish that sentence,” Krissy said. “I don’t need any mental images.”

  “…getting up?”

  “Mmm, really could have done without that one, chickadee.”

  “Waking up,” Leon said firmly. “Waking up from sleep. That is all.”

  “Well not quite all if you count—” Warrick started.

  “Warrick!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Let’s just get some clothes. Now?”

  “Okay,” Warrick agreed, almost running to Leon’s room.

  “Oh, Warrick?” Krissy said, her back still turned.

  “Yes?”

  “Pyrex dishes are transparent.”

  AFTER that day Leon became a fixture at the hospital, and Warrick a frequent guest for Sunday brunch, especially once Leon and Krissy discovered his cooking was much better than either of theirs.

  “Why don’t we ever go to your place?” Leon asked one Thursday. “I have Fridays off from uni, and you live out east anyway.”

  Warrick shrugged. “A lot of hospital staff live where I do, and I’d rather not have rumors start up about my love life.”

  Leon’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”

  Warrick looked around the brightly lit interior of Ghanda’s Indian restaurant and leaned in closer. “I’m not out at work.”

  “Then why did you hit on me?”

  “You were cute,” Warrick said. “Look, I’m sure people know. Staff anyway, but can you imagine what would happen if it was common knowledge to patients?”

  “They’ll get over it if they want their meds,” Leon said around a mouthful of butter chicken.

  “And my job?”

  “Are you telling me the hospital doesn’t have an equal-opportunity policy?”

  Warrick sighed and reached for the basket of garlic naan. “They do, but they also have a ‘code of conduct’.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean.”

  “Do you remember Monday when you dragged me into the bathroom for half an hour?”

  Leon licked his lips. “Mmm. Yeah, I do.”

  “Someone saw or heard. Probably heard.”

  “Do I need to gag you next time?” Leon asked slyly.

  “Leon, there can’t be a next time.”

  Leon’s spoon hit the table with a clatter. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “No! But you can’t keep coming around at work.”

  “You work in a public building, Warrick. I think you’ll find I can walk in whenever I want.”

  “Leon, I work there. I can’t have you coming over and distracting me all the time.”

  “Oh, is that what I’m doing? You’re the one who keeps dropping by Rook’s room whenever I’m around. Maybe you should learn some self-control,” Leon said, tossing his napkin onto the table and standing up.

  “Where are you going?” Warrick asked.

  “Home,” Leon said shortly, rifling through his wallet and throwing a twenty on the table.

  “I DON’T think he meant it, Leon,” Krissy said as they stripped down to their swimsuits—Krissy in a navy-blue one-piece and Leon in sporty orange-and-black swim trunks. “That doesn’t sound like breakup talk.”

  “No, it just sounds like overly controlling boyfriend talk,” Leon said, fishing a pair of goggles out of his backpack. “You will do this; you won’t do that. These are the cans and can’ts of your movements for the rest of eternity, dictated by the big man, who knows best.”

  Krissy tied her hair back into a ponytail and tucked it up under her favorite pink swimming cap. “You know, I’m not really sure what to say without sounding like I’m taking his side,” she said as she stepped down into the murky pool of seawater. “Oh, that’s cold,” she said, wincing.

  “You should do what I do and just jump straight in.”

  “You’re just going to jump straight into this?” Krissy asked incredulously.

  “Um, yes?” Leon said. “And I’ll splash around trying not to scream until the pins and needles stop.”

  “And why couldn’t we just go to the campus pool?”

  “One, this is free, and two, it’s an ocean pool. They bring the water in fresh every two weeks, and there’s no chlorine.”

  Krissy inched further down the sloping sandy bottom of the pool until she was hip deep in the water. “And there’s a lot of sand, making it impossible to see the bottom. Isn’t it dangerous swimming in murky water?”

  Leon sighed. “There are no barracuda in ocean pools, Krissy.”

  “Sure, and when they find my chewed-up body washed up on the beach, I will blame you.”

  “Krissy, if they find your body washed up on a beach, you won’t be able to blame anyone—you’ll be dead.”

  Krissy scowled and splashed Leon with near-frigid seawater, the cold striking his skin like needles. “Fuck, that was cold.”

  “I know. Why do you think I splashed you?”

  Ignoring the taunt, Leon waded into the pool purposefully until he was waist deep, and then jumped, ducking his head under and showering Krissy with cold droplets.

  When he resurfaced his eyes were squinched shut, and he could feel Krissy’s amusement. “You so deserved that.”

  “Yeah, okay. Whatever,” Leon said, wiping his eyes. “Remind me to put on my goggles next time.”

  Krissy paused as if in thought. “No,” she said firmly and struck out for the seaward wall.

  DESPITE his misgivings, Leon headed back to the hospital to sit with Rook. It was Friday, and just like any other Friday, Leon walked into room 14B, now devoid of the snoring woman, who had been wheeled out some two weeks ago. Sitting down, he pulled out a sheaf of past accounting exam papers to go through.

  “Sometimes boys suck,” Leon said a few hours later, looking up at Rook’s perfectly composed face. “Okay, so that’s probably something you’d hear more than you’d say. I guess I’m just stressed about the exams. You’re missing exams. Huh. I’m not sure if that’s something you’d like or not.” Putting his most recent paper to one side, he stretched back into the poo-brown chair, the vertebrae in his neck cracking. “I’m just sick of everyone telling me how to live my life. ‘It’s a phase; you’ll grow out of it,’ or ‘Have you tried not being gay?’ And of course, ‘You can’t work here anymore; you don’t fit in with the company culture.’” Leon closed his eyes and clutched at the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, sorry. I should really stop unloading on you, and I shouldn’t tell any jokes about you being a good listener on account of the fact that I don’t actually know you can listen. Kriss
y said I was being insensitive making that joke—although more to the point, she said it was old and clichéd.” Rising to his feet, he leaned against the roller table and stared down at Rook, whose blond hair had grown out enough to frame his face in soft curls. “You know, you’re going to need a haircut when you wake up from all of this.” Reaching out, he pushed Rook’s fringe away from his forehead. “Definitely going to need a haircut.”

  He was pulling his fingers back when Rook’s eyelids fluttered.

  “Rook?” Looking down at the bed, he wondered if he’d imagined it. “Is this where I ask you to squeeze my fingers?” he added, grasping Rook’s left hand in his own. “Okay, you’re not that awake.” Sighing, he looked back at Rook’s face and saw a telltale flutter again. “Doctor!”

  It took Leon a few moments to find the bed remote and hit the call button, and the medical staff were there in less than a minute, with a tall, muscular nurse leading the way. When Warrick rounded the corner he stopped, and the rest of the staff nearly ran into him.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “I think he’s waking up,” Leon said.

  For a brief moment their eyes locked, and then Warrick looked down to Rook and Leon’s joined hands. “All right. Please step back so we can work?”

  “Sure,” Leon said, backing away from the bed as Rook was checked over by the doctors. After a brief consultation, the staff started to wheel the bed out of the room.

  “Wait—where are you taking him?” Leon asked.

  The doctor in the horn-rimmed glasses had a few brief words with Warrick, and the large man nodded and walked back into the room. “They’re going to see if they can wake him up,” Warrick said.

  “How?”

  “Hypothermia.”

  “What?”

  “They’re going to cool him by about two degrees. There’s been no sign of brain swelling for a few weeks, but he doesn’t appear to be lucid. The cold has been known to help in some cases.”

  “So he’s not waking up.”

  “Not in the sitting-up-and-talking sense. They won’t keep him cold for more than a day.”