Lonely Hearts

by Heidi Cullinan

  Lewis stepped aside to let someone pass on the stairway. “I’m in Silas again for the school year, but Titus is the only male dorm open for the summer. So it’s mostly me and the football team and four international students.”

  The full impact of what this truth meant for a second-year student struggling with gender identity hit Elijah as they opened the door to Lewis’s floor to a cacophony of male shouts and laughter. Wide-shouldered football players passed casually between rooms, though through one pair of doors simply a football made the journey back and forth. Cries of dude and what the fuck, man? and you dumb shit bounced around as comfortable camaraderie. The men weren’t all large, but they were the kind of bark-chewing, back-slapping bros only a college locker room could germinate. Young men alone in close environment, playing out the politics and pressures of their team in fifty-year-old buildings composed of concrete blocks and linoleum floors. First years terrified to be away from home, but desperate not to let anyone know how afraid they were. Sophomores eager to stake a place of dominance, juniors and newly minted seniors defending roles previously carved.

  The barking calls and whoops put all of Elijah’s senses on alert. Lewis took a different approach, pulling the hoodie fully forward, rounding shoulders and economizing movements, as if becoming invisible were an option. Lewis wove through the obstacle course of traditional masculinity like a wraith, hugging the wall, favoring shadows and falling behind Baz and Elijah to use them as human shields.

  Baz was Baz. He used every inch of his height and pushed his sunglasses higher on his nose with a practiced air. Each of the guys loitering in the halls noticed him, as they were meant to, and by and large they parted the sea for him. Most shuffled into their rooms, the rest making themselves less conspicuous, leaning over to murmur to a bro who was too new to have gotten the memo. A few bruisers held their own, arms folded and quietly making it known they’d throw down if challenged, but nothing more. Baz didn’t challenge, so nothing happened except the hallway got quiet and he walked without encumbrance, all the way until Lewis tugged Elijah’s sleeve and murmured they’d reached their destination.

  Elijah didn’t ask if he could come in. He almost pushed Lewis out of the way to make it inside, collapsing into the corner by the closet as he stared, wide-eyed, at Lewis. When the door snicked closed behind Baz, Elijah erupted. “Holy fucking shit, this is what you’re living with?”

  Shrugging, Lewis hunkered into the hoodie. “It’s not as bad as it looks. They call me names, mostly. Maybe a shove if I don’t watch where I walk, and I have to be mindful when I go to the bathroom. I shower when they’re at practice though. It’s only for another month, until I’m back in Silas.”

  “Who’s your roommate?” This came from Baz, who toured the room idly, scanning the walls. They were mostly bare, though he paused at a bulletin-board collage.

  “None now. Don’t know who for the fall.” Lewis shrugged. “Some freshman, probably. The guy I had last year found somebody else.”

  But Lewis hadn’t, of course.

  Baz hadn’t moved from the bulletin board. “You’re a serious disciple of Studio Ghibli, I see. Favorite film?”

  Lewis straightened, body posture calming as the two of them stood before the carefully cut out and arranged anime display. “Everything Miyazaki does is brilliant. I love all of them for different reasons. But probably…Spirited Away and Nausicaä. And Princess Mononoke. Well—and My Neighbor Totoro, because you have to start with the foundation. But I don’t want you to think I disrespect From Up on Poppy Hill or The Wind Rises. They’re all different shades of perfection, really.”

  “Favorite character?”

  This time Lewis didn’t hesitate. “Nausicaä. Though I will always hold a seat for Ponyo too.”

  Baz traced the image of a gray-haired boy inside the tail of a white dragon. “I’m pretty much team Haku, but you’re right about Ponyo. Have you seen the Japanese versions, or only the English dubs?”

  “A few in Japanese. My public library had some of the discs, and I got Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle and Nausicaä as gifts, but I’ve watched most on torrents.”

  “I have all of them, including the Japanese release of Spirited Away on Blu-ray. Next time you’re bored, let me know, and we’ll have a marathon.”

  Lewis blushed. “That would be awesome. Thanks.”

  Uncapping a dry erase marker, Baz wrote his name and cell on the whiteboard above the desk. “We’ll leave you alone like you asked, but you’ll call us, right, if you need anything? Or if you simply change your mind and want company? Doesn’t matter how late. Elijah never turns down an excuse to drive the Tesla.”

  Elijah resented this portrait of himself, but he stifled his objection when he saw how the comment made Lewis quietly hopeful. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Baz deposited the bags he carried on the bed. “Tell Lejla she did you proud, okay? And have her tell you the same thing.”

  Lewis said nothing, but it was clear Baz had found exactly the right thing to say. This left Elijah not knowing how to follow up, so he fumbled a quick kiss on his friend’s cheek, hoping the gesture wasn’t stupid as fuck, and murmured “Take care of yourself” as he followed Baz into the hall.

  The troglodyte who’d dumped beets on Lejla’s head stood in the middle of the path to the exit.

  It was possible to get past him, but not without standing sideways and essentially executing a kind of shuffling genuflect around his elbows. His bent arms framed bulked-out abs straining a Saint Timothy Trojans green-and-white jersey with the factory folds still in place. He glared at Baz with beady eyes from beneath a buzz cut, an iron stare declaring no slicked-up guy in sunglasses was intimidating him.

  Elijah tried not to panic, but he stepped closer to Baz, glancing up at him in an attempt to communicate a silent that’s the beet asshole, but Baz didn’t so much as slow his stride. The other residents of the hall shuffled to the periphery, uninterested in taking a side but eager to see how it played out. Some of the guys seemed uneasy, some confused and some pissed, like they’d never battle Baz personally but wouldn’t mind seeing him knocked down a peg or three.

  Elijah’s choices were duck around the asshole his fingers still urged to pull apart or take point beside Baz and hope bullies bounced off Baz as well as bullets. He chose the latter option and pasted on bored, discourage-the-trick face.

  Baz slowed as he approached the roadblock, regarding the man-mountain with the same disinterest he would a mannequin display. He was very careful not to so much as let his breath brush the freshman—but he angled his head to the side and raked his gaze up and down, going so far as to tip his glasses so it was abundantly clear he was inspecting a piece of meat. “Passable, I suppose, but bulk’s never done much for me.”

  Someone murmured shit as the thug’s beady eyes opened as wide as they’d go. Mr. Bulk tensed, elbows coming down as fists formed over his midsection. “What the fuck?”

  Tension swelled in the corridor, but Baz ignored it, straightening and laying his right palm in a rather affected gesture over his heart. “Dear me. How embarrassing. I must have misinterpreted. My apologies. Usually when a man goes to this much trouble to get my attention, he…well, wants my attention, if you know what I mean.”

  The freshman flushed with confused, dangerous rage. His right fist rose automatically, but the panicked murmurs around him gave him pause. Elijah could see the thoughts forming on his face. Why aren’t the others joining in? Why aren’t we beating up this faggot together?

  Baz remained where he was, but his demeanor became concentrated, his casual comments laced with quiet steel. “The creases in your jersey tell me you’re new here. So before you say or, worse, do things you’ll regret, I suggest you do a little homework. But don’t think this is a threat, exactly. Just because I’m from Chicago doesn’t mean I’m with the mob or anything.” He laughed, and the sound managed to make even E
lijah wonder if maybe, somehow, Baz was connected to some kind of revenge-thirsty organized-crime outfit.

  The thug didn’t lower his fist, but he held still, regarding Baz as if he were a viper ready to go for the throat at any second.

  “Tell you what.” Baz tucked his elbows into his side and held out his hands, an arrogant CEO declaring to his nest of peons we’re all equals here. “I remember what it’s like to be new, to need to impress the guys and make new friends. So you’re going to be my friend. You’re going to help me take care of one of my friends.” He indicated Lewis’s closed door with a nod. “Lewis has a difficult time fitting in, same as you. I hear there was a terrible run-in today with some pencil-dicked asshole who thinks it’s fun to laugh at someone else’s expense. Do me a favor and watch out for Lewis. Because people who upset my friends are always sorry.”

  The freshman blinked at Baz, his expression still confused but now carefully blank.

  Baz nodded, as if to say yes, it’s all settled now, everybody move on. He resumed his stride, patting the meathead absently on the shoulder as he blithely nudged him out of the way and led Elijah down the hall. “Looking great, guys. First pregame meal’s on me.”

  Silence enveloped them until the stairwell door closed behind them, but before Elijah could let out his breath on a What the fucking fuck? Baz caught his elbow and led him with purpose to the exit.

  “Game face stays on, no stopping or slowing.” He kept his breezy CEO smile in place as they passed a group of football players on the stairs, then covered the distance between the building entrance and the Tesla. The cluster of guys broke away as Baz approached and the door handles popped out, but Baz didn’t break character as he pulled his seat belt into place and fumbled with the dashboard controls. “No big deal, simply start the car and pull out like you do this every day.”

  Elijah wanted to protest he thought he was going to throw up, but Baz had the moonroof open and Maino blasting “Here Comes Trouble”, so Elijah swallowed his freakout and did as he was told.

  It was cool, he’d admit, the way people watched them as they peeled silently away, Maino’s rap a perfect soundtrack to their badass exit. As soon as they were clear of the dorm, though, Elijah pulled onto a side street, parked the car under the canopy of an oak tree and melted into his seat.

  “What the hell.” He aimed a glare at Baz, but he was so overwhelmed all he could do was collapse against the wheel. “You fucking lunatic. I thought we were going to be smears on bathroom tile.”

  Baz snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his seat. “Never. Only four guys didn’t know who I was, and the lead asshole didn’t have any friends. The only cache he has was from providing their lunchtime entertainment, which I now turned into a big fat streak of trouble. He was never going to hit me, not without encouragement. So I didn’t give him any.”

  Elijah made a mental note to never play poker with Baz. Christ. “What was with all the veiled threats?”

  He shrugged. “There are a million wild stories about my family. They toss around a lot of money, and my mother is overprotective and managing. Somehow this has become the myth that if anyone fucks with me, their family will find themselves in financial trouble or guys in suits will meet offenders in dark alleys. None of it is true, exactly—though if Precious had decked me, our lawyers would have him ruined within a business day. And it’s true, my family’s given so much money to Saint Timothy that if they asked for pretty much anything, they’d get it. You have to be careful how you use leverage—but nobody ever thinks it through. Frankly I suspect they get off on the idea I could own a school the way they think I do. So every now and then, when it suits me, I use the song and dance to my advantage.”

  Elijah’s adrenaline remained in spike, and he couldn’t stop replaying the image of Baz blithely taking down the guy who had humiliated Lejla. “How did you know he was the guy?”

  “The way you flinched when you saw him. That and he was clearly the biggest tool in the room.”

  Elijah let out a breath, but it was rough. They were okay, he kept trying to tell himself.

  Fingers threaded through his hair, a gentle, grounding touch. The belied fear rolled over and became banked lust. Shutting his eyes, Elijah leaned into Baz’s hand.

  Baz kept kneading. “Let’s head to the house. I have something I want to show you in our room.”

  Elijah just bet he did. He tried to laugh, but all his cells were realigning to getting laid, so instead he turned his face to nuzzle Baz’s palm, lingering to place a long lick up the pulse of his wrist. “You’re pretty badass, Howl.”

  Baz closed the distance between them, giving Elijah a kiss half carnal, half bite. “Only when you’re with me, Sophie. Only when you’re with me.”

  Baz’s migraine had started before they returned to the White House, but it was mild enough he could pass it off without Elijah knowing. It helped that Elijah was seriously horny, a state Baz maintained by tickling his ear and then openly groping him once the Tesla was safely in the garage. He would have laid his boyfriend out on the kitchen table, but Mina and Jilly were at the counter making cookies. At first it was fun to let them stall with small talk because he knew Elijah was going crazy with the rain delay, but when he realized how badly he needed a pain pill, he excused them and herded his boyfriend the rest of the way up the stairs.

  “Brian’s moving in tonight,” Mina called into the living room as they hustled up the stairs. “Where should I tell him to put Sid’s stuff and the spare junk in his room?”

  “Ballroom,” Baz called out, shut the door behind them and got to work.

  He still got a crazy contact high from the way Elijah came undone for him, how pushing him into a wall or a door or basically restricting him in any way made him go pliant and writhing at once. Baz indulged a moment—against the dresser this time, Elijah mewling and panting as Baz pinched his nipple and undid his pants. But the headache kept increasing, and finally Baz had to break the kiss to lean around Elijah and fish for a prescription bottle.

  “Head?” Elijah rasped the question into Baz’s chest as he undid his buttons.

  “Yeah.” Baz popped the pills into his mouth and dry-swallowed them, resting his cheek on his arm. “Gotta give this a few minutes to kick in.”

  Elijah kissed his way down Baz’s sternum, occasionally pausing to lick. “Mmm. You smell like vanilla. Helping Liz?”

  Baz’s head pinched, and he stroked Elijah’s hair instead of answering.

  Elijah undid Baz’s fly with a deft hand. Kneeling on the floor, he stroked Baz’s flaccid cock, swirling his tongue around the glans until it was clear the soldier wasn’t reporting for duty. Undaunted, Elijah shifted focus to Baz’s balls, alternating between licks and sucks.

  “That was so hot.” He stroked Baz’s ass cheek and paused his speech to swallow both balls and bury his nose in Baz’s taint. “The most fucking badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

  It had felt pretty badass at the time, like he was conducting an intricate social symphony. He wanted to quip something about how good Elijah looked on his knees, or how bad Elijah could be on Baz’s ass, but instead he had to bite his arm as his head split in two. What Elijah was doing felt great, but as the pain exploded, he acknowledged fucking or even lying still and being sucked wasn’t on his personal menu right now.

  Elijah already knew how to read those cards and stopped his assault to instead rise, finish peeling Baz out of his clothes and lead him to the bed. The gesture was nice, but it bummed Baz out he was already a nursing-home patient.

  Elijah tucked him naked into bed, sat half-dressed beside him and stroked his hair. “I’m going to switch the lights to red. Do you want me to get you a joint?”

  Keeping his eyes closed, Baz nodded with as much economy of movement as possible. His brain felt bruised, especially behind his right eyeball. But when Elijah started to rise, he caught h
is arm, held it weakly. He smacked a dry mouth before he could get to words. “Smoke with me?”

  “Anytime.”

  Once he buttoned up the curtains and flipped the switches, Elijah lit the joint for them, kneeling naked over Baz’s midsection as he pressed the paper to Baz’s lips. Were it not for the blanket, their groins would’ve met flesh to flesh, but as it was he was glad, because the space between Elijah’s heavy erection and Baz’s pain-soaked libido could be measured in light years. Elijah didn’t seem to care, though, his touches shifting to gentle strokes as he smoked.

  “Sorry,” Baz croaked. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, even in the red.

  Elijah kept stroking, occasionally stopping to apply the joint to Baz’s lips. “Is this something from the hallway?”

  Shaking his head was killer. “No. Does this sometimes. Humid day, maybe, but mostly just because. Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing.” Elijah held the joint away as he trailed kisses between Baz’s nipples. “I know it’s a front because you want to make me crazy. Spend the afternoon hot and bothered, thinking about you pissing a circle around a dumb jock. God, I want to lick your feet whenever I think of it.” He teased one of Baz’s nipples in his teeth. “You do that to me, you know. I’ve played sub a million times, but when I lay it down for you… It scares me, but I want to do it with you so bad. Whatever you say. Even if it’s not what I want. Maybe especially then.”

  Dizzy with want and need, Baz fumbled at Elijah’s hair, gave up and took the joint from his fingers. “Sure, tell me when I’m weak as a kitten and can’t do anything about it.”

  “Why do you think I told you now?”

  Baz passed the joint over when Elijah asked for it, but he forced his eyes open and touched Elijah’s face. “Same. Feel…the same.”

  Elijah’s expression went soft, slightly scared. He traced the butt of the joint around Baz’s lips, unable to meet his gaze. “Sure you’re not tired of this scrawny, frowny little rat hanging around?”