by K-lee Klein
“I'm so sorry—”
“No, don’t be. You honestly don’t see what you’ve done for me?” Devon shook his head, fingers dragging across Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t do this.” He waved his free arm in the air when Devon looked ready to question him. How’d they manage to have confession time when they were supposed to be napping. “This. Valentine’s Day. Riding a freaking motorcycle. Breakfast with friends. I don’t have friends, so that’s a given, or at least it was. Then the aquarium with all those little monsters running and screaming. You’ve given me experiences I never expected, and probably thought I didn’t want.”
“You should have said something.”
Scott cut him off. “No. You’re not getting it. Today was—it was amazing, Devon. I was nervous, but I got through it unscathed, and well, even happy. So thank you.”
Flashes of light danced in Devon’s eyes when he licked his lips and finally spoke. “I promised full disclosure, and this is it. You met my weirdo friends and found out I like fish hats and goldfish sunglasses, and that I have a third persona in the real estate field. And now, I’m so happy to have you in my place of tranquility.”
“Thought it was the magic room?” Scott teased, uncomfortable with Devon’s look of adoration. He wondered if he’d ever get used to being looked at that way. His anxiety-ridden body told him no, but he could live with it for as long as Devon kept doing it.
“It’s a tranquil magic room.”
“It certainly is.” Scott dropped his head to Devon’s chest again. “So full disclosure, huh?” He paused, gathering courage. “Why didn't you tell me the truth from the beginning?”
Devon blew out a breath and tightened his arm around Scott. “Took me getting wasted to finally understand what an asshole I was. God, my mom would've smacked me if she’d seen me that night.”
“You were a bit of a mess.”
“Yeah,” Devon confirmed with a humorless chuckle. “I didn't tell you because I was embarrassed and didn’t want you to treat me differently.”
Scott wrinkled his nose. “Embarrassed? About what? Being rich and famous?”
Devon groaned. “Yeah. I dunno. You’re so put together, you know? So grown-up.”
Scott snorted, unsure whether his grown-up-ness was a good thing or just a boring one.
“I liked you and it seemed like you liked me too, even though I wasn’t being truthful,” Devon continued. “You didn't moon over me because I was a musician, or had money, or was a celebrity. I didn't want that to change.”
“But then I screwed it up.”
“No sweetheart,” Devon reassured with a kiss to Scott's temple. “I don't see it that way. You saw the other side of me, but it shouldn’t have happened the way it did. That’s totally on me for not explaining sooner. Now you’re stuck with all my personalities and parts. The real me, warts and all.”
“Eww. You have warts?”
Devon bumped his nose to Scott’s head. “Funny guy. I love you.”
How did the words come so easily to Devon when the butterflies in Scott’s belly were morphing into fire-breathing dragons? It wasn’t like the earth was going to open up and swallow him because he said the words. “I, yeah, I love you, too.”
Scott leaned up to kiss Devon, short and sweet, then tried to hide the flaring heat on his cheeks in Devon’s neck. Devon suddenly yawned, and Scott thought it was more fake than real, but he assumed that was Devon’s way of letting Scott off the hook about his feelings. “How about that nap?” Devon inquired, already shifting so he was comfortably against Scott, his head tipped back into his pillow.
It was soothing and toasty warm and Scott let himself float away, snug and content in Devon’s arms. In Devon’s bed. In Devon’s house. In Devon’s heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY
With Scott nestled in a sweet doze against Devon’s side, the last thing Devon wanted to do was disturb him. His boyfriend’s soft snuffles and snores were adorable. But fuck, he had to piss so bad.
Over the disheveled top of Scott's head, Devon could see how his glasses sat crookedly on his nose, and the tiny string of drool at the corner of his parted lips—lips stained slightly purple from the wine. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth and willing his bladder to settle the hell down and give him a damn break. How could he disturb such cuteness? And he hadn't even been lying when he said he liked to watch Scott sleep. What had Scott called it? Sleep-stalking?
Whatever the term, Devon was totally guilty of the crime and he had the pics to prove it. Plus, like any good stalker, he didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it. It wasn't nudes or porn, simply innocent photos that made Devon smile whenever he looked at them. Unfortunately, he couldn't reach his phone to add to his collection.
Moving as cautiously as possible, Devon stroked the top of Scott's head. He followed the touch with a kiss, controlled and light, his lips lingering on the wispy blond strands. It was disappointing that Scott still seemed insecure about their relationship, but personal experiences had taught Devon that no one could make anyone else feel confident or secure. No one had the power to make anyone else happy unless they were convinced they deserved it, and Scott seemed to be stuck in the mindset that he was undeserving of love.
All Devon could do was support him, show him he was loved and appreciated for who he was. And Devon would make it his goal to do that as best he could.
Because falling in love with Scott had been a no-brainer for Devon. The way-too-soon realization had hit like a Mack truck colliding with a brick wall. Past experience had shown him that being in love wasn’t easy and could be catastrophic, but he still had faith. He had faith in the way his heart tried to climb out of his chest when Scott was sad or upset, in the way his brain spun and jerked when Scott kissed or touched him, in the way his whole body missed Scott when they were apart.
Scott had snagged Devon hook, line and sinker, not long after their initial meeting at The Little Shoppe of Jazz, and he had no intention of being thrown back. It had been nothing like the old days when Devon had hooked up with the occasional fan, something he hadn’t done for a long time for very good reasons. Scott hadn't gushed over his looks or celebrity status, hadn't fallen all over Devon for an autograph, or photo, or blowjob in the bathroom. Sure, he'd been nervous but only in what Devon now knew was typical Scott fashion. He had regrets as deep as his soul for keeping vital information from Scott, for not telling the truth, but at the time he’d felt justified given his history and disinterest in being anyone’s trophy lay.
He’d hoped that turning up at Scott’s place after the fact and continuing to do so would have been proof enough of his desire to keep seeing Scott, but his love’s insecurity ran deep and twisted. That hadn’t stopped Devon from trying and the eventual pay-off had been gangbusters.
When Scott shifted in his sleep, his elbow connected with Devon’s bladder, and Devon groaned out loud. He buried his face in Scott’s hair to stifle the sound but when he looked up, Scott’s pretty eyelashes were fluttering like butterflies against his cheek. He peered up at Devon, sleepy confusion shadowing his wide eyes.
“Where…what,” he tried unsuccessfully to say. Devon waited him out, rubbing slow circles over his shoulder. “How long was I asleep?” He yawned halfway into his questions and it was the proverbial straw that broke Devon’s resolve. He arched down, pressing a gentle kiss to Scott’s mouth. He was rewarded with an endearing snicker vibrating against his lips. “Get off me, ya big lug.”
“Get off you? You’re more on me than the other way around—”
“You’re not usually a grumpy bear when you wake up.”
Devon whined, but obeyed so Scott could sit up. “Not grumpy,” he said, popping out his bottom lip. He hoped it looked cute and not ridiculous like his mom had always told him. Seemed that even at times like this, he missed her. He cleared his throat. “I’m a happy bear, thank you very much. I was so wonderfully comfy, at least most parts of me anyway.”
Scott tapped Devon's pouty bot
tom lip. “Which part of you is unhappy?” he asked, stretching lazily, the hem of his shirt rising enough to give Devon a sneak peak of creamy white skin.
He trailed a finger along Scott's prickly jaw, ending by mimicking his gesture. Scott stuck out his tongue and licked it and Devon jerked away. “That’s totally not helping,” he chastised, squirming from two different needs now.
“I plead innocent to all charges. Did I put your arm to sleep or something?” Scott asked, cheekily.
“No,” Devon said quickly, grinding his teeth when Scott wiggled against him. “But we're getting close to exploring a new kink.”
“Excuse me?”
“You into watersports, sweetheart?”
The instant widening of Scott's eyes was truly comical and assured Devon it wasn’t Scott’s thing at all. He completed the look with a wrinkled nose. “Um, no? That's not, um, that's really a thing?”
“It is but I’m definitely not asking. Honest. One time was enough for me.”
“You’ve done it?”
Devon shrugged, finally shifting to appease his complaining bladder. “Not that I’m judging but it's definitely not my thing. I do have to pee like a goddamn Irishman on St. Patrick's Day though, so unless you…”
It was amusing how quickly Scott scrambled away from Devon. “God. Why didn't you say something?”
“Didn’t want to disturb your sweet dreams,” Devon replied. He vaulted off the bed, noticing the way Scott eyed him curiously. “Be right back. Hold my spot.”
After satisfactorily relieving himself, Devon grabbed the gift bag he’d stowed behind his acoustic guitar. It wasn’t like he’d had a definite plan for the evening, more like he’d hoped fate would toss him a break. He had another surprise for Scott and what better time to give it to him when the day had been about sharing the more personal parts of Devon’s life with Scott. So far, so good.
“Hey, you all awake yet?” Devon inquired when he bounded back onto the bed. Scott beamed indulgently at him, lounged against the headboard, his legs stretched across the blanket, and one arm extended toward him. His hair was sticking up every which way, but as much as Devon wanted to comment on how beautifully dishevelled he was, he knew Scott would be mortified. And he looked amazing in Devon’s bed. “Up for another surprise?”
Scott tilted his head, glasses still perched precariously on the end of his nose. Devon wondered if he even realized they were there. It was endearing.
“If I were you I’m sure I’d make some joke about my stamina in the up department,” Scott teased. Devon snorted affectionately. “But…I’m not so I guess it depends on what the surprise is.” He arched a brow and Devon had to contain the need to ravish him on the spot. “Or was that some fancy come-on and I completely missed it?”
Devon took it slow, dropping down beside Scott with the utmost of care, aligning his body so he pressed against him from shoulder to ankle. Scott looked at him with additional curiosity when Devon simply smiled but didn’t close the distance between their heads, or more importantly their lips.
“Are you playing hard to get now?”
Scott replied with a mirthless chuckle. “I don’t think I even know how to do that. Why are you torturing me?” When Devon failed to reply, Scott grabbed his face and laid a big wet one on him. They pulled away breathless and grinning like idiots. Devon trailed his mouth to Scott’s neck and proceed to suck a mark under his jaw. “And why would I do that with you in my…your bed.” His lashes fluttered and he averted his gaze, cheeks turning a pretty shade of crimson.
Tipping Scott’s face up again, Devon kissed him, sweet and tender, simply because he could.
“Hold that thought,” he said, nuzzling against fragrant bare skin one last time before leaning off the edge of the bed to grab the gift bag. Scott reached for him, but Devon swatted him away with a laugh. “I’m okay with you calling it your bed, you know? Not pushing the issue. Just saying.”
Scott huffed, yet managed to look impressed and unimpressed at the same time. He eyed Devon with amusement when he spoke. “You're quite organized for an unorganized rockstar.” Then he arched his back, stretching so that the hem of his shirt revealed a strip of pale skin.
Devon had to look away. “I have my moments. And you forget that I'm also an entrepreneur. I have mad skills.”
With a shake of his head, Scott said, “I might need to make a list of all your accomplishments.”
“Maybe you do. But I think I could help you with that better if you were wearing less clothes,” Devon teased. He stared at Scott for longer than necessary and until Scott looked away in frustration. He enjoyed making Scott blush. Sue him.
But Scott was not taking his shit this time. “Is that the surprise? You’re getting sloppy, Devastation. It’s not a surprise that you want me naked.” He seemed, too late, to realize what he’d said, covering his mouth and shaking his head. “You’re such a bad influence. So, is that for me?”
“Who else would it be for?” Devon asked.
“Is this where the magic comes in? Will there be a burst of glitter or a magical genie popping out to grant my heart’s desires when I open the bag?”
Devon’s boyfriend could be a cheeky fucker when he wanted to be. “I’m hoping the magic will happen after I bribe you with shiny new things.”
“Of course. Because you always have to bribe me to be with you,” Scott said, rolling his eyes. “But seriously, Dev. I’m the most unprepared boyfriend in the world when it comes to Valentine’s Day. I don’t have anything for you.” He looked truly crushed and Devon took it upon himself to wipe that frown away.
“Not a problem. I only take cash anyway. No credit cards or silly boxes of chocolates.”
“You're hilarious,” Scott scoffed. “And I’m so unprepared for all this.”
Devon stroked a finger down his cheek. “For what, sweetheart?”
Scott pushed to a sitting position then flapped his arms to the sides. “This. I should have—damn.” His voice was faint, but Devon heard the tell-tale tone of self-flagellation.
“Hey,” he whispered to get Scott’s attention. “Don't get worked up.” He instantly regretted the words. Shoving a hand through his messy hair, he shifted so he was sitting beside Scott but didn’t touch him. “Shit. I'm not supposed to say that, am I? I'm sorry.”
Confusion shadowed Scott’s face. He squinted at Devon. “Say what?”
Blowing out a big breath, Devon dipped his head and fumbled with the handle of the gift bag. “I did some reading on anxiety and panic attacks and stuff. Saying things like that invalidates your feelings and that’s what I’m trying not to do.” Way to go DuCaine.
Scott's mouth hung open before he snapped it shut and uttered a soft, “Oh my god.” He squished Devon’s chin until his cheeks puffed out. “You need to stop that.”
Devon sighed dejectedly. Nice job, dumbass. “I'm sorry.”
“No, stupid. Stop being so perfect.”
Taken back, Devon gaped at Scott. “Perfect?” he exclaimed. “I’m far from it. But you're important to me, Scott, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or screw this up.”
“I um...” Scott’s voice dwindled. “This is some heavy stuff for a fluffy Valentine’s Day. Please tell me there’s a real genie in this bag so he can rewind the last few minutes of melancholy?”
Devon was grateful for the change in topic. He rubbed his hands together and stole a kiss. “Can’t promise that but, yeah, let’s get back to fluffy, shall we?” He tucked the bag into Scott’s hands. “Keep in mind it's okay if you don't like it.”
“Shut up,” Scott growled but it was more on the adorable side than menacing. Devon couldn’t imagine Scott ever being menacing anyhow. “Did you wrap this yourself? You really are the whole package. Sexy and practical.”
“Devastation is not known for practicality, Devon can shove things in bags with tissue paper like a damn champ.”
Scott picked at the tape holding the ribboned-handles together before dragging an
entire package of white tissue paper out of the bag. He gaped at Devon. “What…why?”
Scott’s emotions were written all over his face when he finally drew the item from the bag. He held it like it was made of the most delicate glass. Devon supposed it kind of was. Since Scott seemed unable to speak, Devon helped him out. “My mom gave it to me,” he said bashfully. Maybe his gift hadn't been as well thought out as he'd hoped.
“But it’s, it's old,” Scott remarked. “I don't understand. Why would you give me something so special? Especially since it’s from your mom.”
His fingers trembled so Devon gently covered them. “Before my dad met mom, he was a bit of an accessory and clotheshorse. Never had a lot of money, but he had a thing for timepieces when he was in the army. I've got about seven, I think, plus my granddad's old pocket watch. I thought you might like this one.”
He'd picked the less flashy of the watches; a Lanco Sunburst with a simple black leather strap. It was analog with a brushed silver casing, navy hands, and a round pearl face. It was near mint and a rare collectible, though Devon would be sure to not mention that part. He thought it was unobtrusive enough to wear day-to-day without Scott feeling he was overdressed. If he liked it at all.
“I don't know what to say,” Scott said softly. “It's beautiful, but it's too much.”
Flattening his palm on Scott's knee, Devon spoke quietly. “How about we forget the story behind it and think of it as an ordinary gift? Think you can do that?”
Scott's worried expression cracked into a watery smile. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose then turned his attention to Devon. “You're such a jerk,” he said, but his eyes were kind. It wasn't what Devon had expected. He even jabbed Devon in the ribs, making him flinch and snicker. What the fuck? “You have to be Mr. Wonderful, don't you? Jeez. Just can’t help yourself.”
With a snort, Devon rubbed his side. “How am I the jerk when my boyfriend's giving me bruises for Valentine's Day? I put a lot of thought into that.” He flashed a killer grin just to piss Scott off. He received another poke for his efforts.
