The Bones of You

by Laura Stone

  But did he want to always be that person?

  “Then it’s like I said, isn’t it?” Seth asked. “Direct contact or not?”

  Oliver took a moment to breathe deeply; Seth was watching him carefully, a smile just beginning to blossom on his face. He seemed to be okay with all of this, acting as his friend, as someone to bounce ideas off of—not someone who could possibly be left by the wayside if Oliver didn’t choose Silver. Oliver’s heart ached painfully to see that Seth was still the boy who would wait for Oliver to choose him.

  “I can see why you’d want to do either, honestly,” Seth said, his head tilted to the side as he thought through his words. “And I can imagine that you’d be equally as good at either, too.” Seth smiled and tapped Oliver’s shoe with his own. “If you were just bad at something for once, this would be much easier for us.”

  “You’re amazing, you know?”

  Seth laughed softly. “Of course I know.” Oliver didn’t miss the blush creeping up Seth’s face. It felt wonderful to know that Seth wanted them to make it work, and that he wanted to help him make the best choice for him, not Seth.

  In a matter of a few days, he’d know for sure how all this would play out. As much as he wanted this time together to last forever, he was desperate to get to Silver and finally be able to make an informed decision.

  “Do you want to stay for a while longer, or are you ready to shove off?” Oliver asked, nudging Seth’s shoe.

  Seth drained his glass with a flourish and got to his knees. “I think I’m ready for us to go. Besides, it’s starting to get a little chilly.”

  Oliver hopped to his feet and pulled Seth up flush against him, running his hands over Seth’s arms. It was something he didn’t think he could ever get tired of—being allowed to touch him like that. Seth snaked his arms around Oliver’s waist and said, “I forgot that you’re like a human furnace.”

  Chuckling softly, Oliver kissed Seth gently on the lips. “Do you want to man the pole? That should warm you up.”

  Seth let out an almost strangled moan and laughed, laying his head on Oliver’s shoulder. “There is no way to describe it without it being a double entendre.”

  Oliver blushed and shook his head. “You know I didn’t mean—”

  Seth shut him up with a soft kiss and pulled back to start packing the empty containers back into the hamper, still chuckling. As Oliver shook out the blanket and reloaded the punt, Seth stood on the shore with his hands on his hips, regarding the boat.

  Oliver bumped his hip into Seth’s and held the edge of the punt to keep it from wobbling as Seth climbed back in. He was about to step on the till when Seth gave him a saucy grin and asked, “Hey, sailor. Going my way?”

  Leaning down, Oliver kissed Seth’s lips softly, saying, “The face that launched a thousand ships. Well, this one, at any rate.” He grabbed the pole, hopped onto the boat and pushed off.

  * * *

  Conversation was lighthearted and teasing for the rest of the afternoon; it was all out in the open, the choice that needed to be made and their feelings for each other. Oliver caught Seth glancing at him and smiling as they returned the punt.

  “What?” Oliver asked, nudging Seth’s shoulder as they made their way back to the apartment.

  “Nothing,” Seth grinned. “It’s just been a really good day.”

  Oliver ducked his head, laughing softly. It was one of the best days he could remember. “Oh? Anything in particular?” he asked Seth.

  “This really handsome guy planned an amazing outing for me that was terribly romantic, that’s all.”

  “Hmm, better tell me who this guy is so I can tell him to back off,” Oliver replied, giving Seth a wink as he unlocked the door and held it for him.

  “Oliver! And his friend Seth! Come, come; meet my friends,” Janos shouted from the sofa. Four other guys from the football team were in the house, watching a game on the television. So much for a continuation of the romantic afternoon.

  “This is who I am telling you about,” he said to the group, pointing at Seth. “His father is a giant biker—it’s called that, yes?” he asked Seth.

  Seth, a wary look on his face, replied, “Uh… sure?” He exchanged a confused glance with Oliver.

  “He is badass giant on a Harley.” Janos made the universal sign for engine-revving and hopped off the sofa. He ran around it to Seth, took him by the shoulders and led him into the room to talk to the other men. “He is… uh, what do I call him, Oliver? Your lover, or…?” He twisted around when asking Oliver, but Seth put his hands up: “enough.”

  “Janos? If I may?” Seth’s voice was higher pitched but forceful. One of the guys narrowed his eyes at him, and Oliver’s hand flexed at his side. Seth carefully extricated himself from Janos’s hold. “You can call me Oliver’s friend Seth. That’s easy to remember, right?”

  “Yes. Ah, Oliver! I remember you tell me that just because you are a homosexual, you are not in love with every man, okay,” Janos said, nodding. He looked back at Oliver and Seth as if he was proud of himself. Well, baby steps. At least he’d been listening that night. “Seth, if you like, you come with us to the pub and show them your father’s pictures, hmm? Tell some biker gang Hell’s Angels stories?”

  “I… thank you, but no,” Seth replied, shooting Oliver a completely exasperated and dumbfounded look.

  “Um, Janos? Seth is on vacation.”

  “Plus, you can see his custom bikes online on their website,” Seth said.

  Oliver spied his laptop on the table near them, turned it on and pulled up Big Mike’s website and the custom shop page. “Here you go. Be sure to check out Little Mike’s Death Chopper.”

  Oliver passed Janos his laptop and pulled Seth into his room while the guys were all entranced and mumbling about the specialty.

  “Holy shit, that guy is huge!” Oliver and Seth heard one of them saying. “That’s his dad?”

  Oliver closed the door and Seth started to crack up. “Well, I’m at least happy to see that he’s making overtures to us. He’s not a bad guy, just… well, ignorant in the actual sense of the word. I think I’m the first gay man he’s ever interacted with.”

  Seth snorted. “First out gay man, I’m sure.”

  Oliver sat on the edge of his bed and held out his hand. “Come ‘ere, you.” His smile grew as Seth drew closer. Wrapping his arms around Seth’s waist, he pulled Seth to stand between his legs and craned his head to look up at him.

  “Hi.”

  Seth brushed Oliver’s hair back off his forehead, smiling sweet and intimately. “Hello. I love your hair longer like this. Easier to get my hands into.”

  Oliver closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against Seth’s abdomen as he ran his fingers through Oliver’s hair.

  “Thank you for today,” Oliver said, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Seth’s thin, soft sweater.

  Seth carded both hands into Oliver’s dark hair and tugged, getting Oliver to look back up at him. “What for?”

  “For letting me do this.” Oliver tipped his head back and tugged on Seth’s torso, pulling him into a warm kiss.

  Seth traced his thumb pads over Oliver’s cheeks and said, “Oh, you’re very welcome.” Oliver was pleased to hear a little bit of a rasp in Seth’s voice.

  “Hey,” Oliver said, straightening up. He toed off his shoes and moved back on the bed to rest against the pillows. He felt sleepy and warm and happy and wanted to feel Seth against him and just revel in this wonderful day they’d shared. Something to add to the other wonderful moments they’d shared. He patted the space next to him.

  Grinning, Seth sat on the edge of the bed, untied his laces, carefully lined up his shoes and walked around the bed to lay next to Oliver. He propped himself up on one hand and drew his finger down Oliver’s jaw-line, neck and chest, and then laced their fingers together.

  “Sometimes I just don’t believe you’re real,” Seth said, breathlessly.

  Oliver kissed the back of Seth
’s hand. “Same here.”

  But he was: Seth was right there, gazing back at him adoringly, and it filled Oliver’s heart with so much love and want that he thought he might burst if Seth didn’t kiss him. Seth must have felt something similar as he moved the few inches it took for their lips to meet, soft and pliant. Oliver reveled in the sensation, warm and wonderful; Seth wanted him, wanted this, and the relief and joy he felt from knowing that was almost too much to bear.

  That it wasn’t certain they would be together from this time on put a damper on his elation, however. Eventually, Seth would go back home and back to work and Oliver would finish his degree, and all of it would happen with an ocean between them, and while he still had all of those years to make up for, all of those nights he hadn’t told Seth he loved him, all of those days that didn’t start and end with them together.

  He rolled Seth onto his back, as if to pin him there and keep him as a permanent fixture in his life. He tilted his head, needing to kiss Seth more deeply, touch him more and feel his warm, solid body under his own. Seth clutched at him just as passionately, holding Oliver’s face, his shoulders, sliding his warm, firm hands over Oliver’s back. His mouth opened to let Oliver slip in his tongue and stroke against his.

  Oliver’s heart was racing—he could wake up and find that this was another painful dream where happiness bled into his worst fears. He buried his face against Seth’s neck, holding on tightly as he tried to catch his breath. Seth stroked and soothed wherever his hands could reach, until he finally tugged Oliver up to look at him.

  “I know,” Seth said, softly, his eyes almost translucent in the low light. “I know. It’s… me, too.”

  Oliver closed his eyes, the breath shuddering out of him. He just wanted this forever. He whined softly at the sensation of Seth petting his face, his hair. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Seth’s hazel eyes were swimming with unshed tears.

  “I just…” Seth sighed and closed his eyes as he said, “I missed you so much, babe.”

  Oliver pressed their lips together firmly, needing contact, over and over: I’m here, I love you, don’t go. They collapsed into each other’s arms, simply holding each other. Seth was warm and firm and right there, and Oliver had him in his arms, and he just didn’t want it to ever stop. Seth hummed something quietly under his breath as his hands worked through the hair on the back of Oliver’s head, over and over, until they both felt calm and their breathing evened out. Oliver didn’t want to move, he didn’t want Seth to move; he wanted to stay there, wrapped up in their reclaimed love.

  “Tuesday. Tuesday you go and meet with them, and then we’ll know,” Seth whispered against Oliver’s ear, almost breathless from the weight of Oliver on top of him.

  Oliver rolled them over, pulling Seth onto him. He needed his weight to anchor him here in the moment. Seth shifted to rest his cheek against Oliver’s shoulder, his hand toying with the neckline of Oliver’s shirt. “I love you,” Oliver said, and kissed Seth’s hairline, his eyes closing with the familiar scent and sensation, hoping he would never be in a position to forget what it was like.

  “Tuesday. Until then, it’s us, okay? We’re here, and I just want to be with you this week, okay?” Seth buried his face in Oliver’s neck and breathed deeply. Oliver tightened his arms, nodding; he gave a yelp a moment later when Seth poked him in the ribs, tickling him.

  “And we’re not going to spend it lying here moping,” Seth said, looking down at Oliver with determination in his eyes. “Besides, there are far better things we could be doing.”

  The warmth in Oliver’s chest began to pool lower. “Yeah?”

  Seth swung his leg over, straddling Oliver and looking down with nothing less than pure mischief in his eyes. “Yeah.”

  He leaned forward, drawing the tip of his nose along Oliver’s lips and cheek, exhaling over Oliver’s earlobe and sending shivers through his limbs. Seth was kissing down Oliver’s neck, pulling the collar of Oliver’s shirt away with the tip of his finger, when the guys in the other room gave a cheer.

  Seth collapsed to Oliver’s side, laughing.

  “No, no! They’re just encouraging us!” Oliver whined, trying to pull Seth back on top of him.

  Seth shook his head, still chuckling. “Oliver, I am not going to try to get you off with a group of homophobic soccer players in the other room. I don’t think I’ve even imagined that particular scenario before.”

  Oliver pushed up onto his elbow and fixed Seth with a sour face. “Fine.”

  Seth grinned. “Come on. Up! Let’s get something to drink and figure out all of the wonderful things you’re going to show me while I’m here.”

  Oliver rolled on top of Seth and gave him a positively wolfish grin, but Seth pushed him off and sat up, laughing. “One-track mind… and later. When there’s not an audience.”

  He smoothed his hair and shirt as Seth got to his feet and asked, “Promise?” He knew the word meant something more than just the intention to be together later that night.

  Seth slipped his arms around Oliver’s neck, smiling sweetly. “Promise.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “We could go to Piccadilly Circus; there’s the rest of the West End—size up the competition for the next desperately hungry wannabe?” Oliver teased.

  Seth kicked at Oliver’s foot. “Funny. But yes to Piccadilly. I notice you didn’t say anything about going to Buckingham Palace. Too touristy?”

  They sat at the small table between the kitchen and living room, feet tangled together in the space underneath. They were leaning close to each other in order to hear themselves over the din of the guys shouting at the soccer game on the television. Apparently there was a massive drive to score happening, and the guys were practically screaming.

  Seth glanced their way and snorted, “One to zero? They should change how many points a team gets for a goal to make it seem more exciting.”

  Oliver looked over his shoulders at Janos and his friends to make sure they didn’t overhear. He’d been quickly and sternly informed, his first week in England, that he was never to disparage football (still soccer, to his American sensibilities).

  “Anyway… oh!” Oliver smiled and took Seth’s hand. “I could waltz you across Trafalgar Square?”

  Seth glanced down at their hands and looked pleased.

  “Oh, and the London Eye!” Oliver raised an eyebrow. “That’s the huge Ferris wheel?”

  “Can we?” Seth was positively incandescent with excitement, Oliver was happy to see.

  They mapped out the remaining touristy things they could do as the guys wrapped up their commentary on the game.

  “Seth, Oliver: we are going to the pub. Come with?” Janos asked.

  Seth yawned hugely, stretching his arms out in an exaggerated manner. “Oh, thank you, but no. I’m exhausted. Still not used to the time change.”

  Janos nodded and clapped Oliver on the shoulder as he left.

  Oliver turned to Seth, smirking as the group left the flat. “It should be the other way.”

  “Hmm?” Seth asked, smiling and leaning toward him with his chin propped on his hand.

  Oliver laughed. “You should be wide awake, because it’s not even dinnertime in New York yet.”

  “You’re cute,” Seth said. “Thick-headed, but very, very cute. So… I think I’m going to take a shower.” He dropped his voice and purred, “I’d offer for you to join me, but it’s hard enough not to slip and fall to my death in there on my own.”

  “I told you, claw-foot tubs are terrible as showers.” Oliver tried to play it cool, but it was hard when Seth was running his toe up Oliver’s instep, and higher, and offering to shower together.

  “Is… Janos going to be gone for a while?” Seth’s foot was halfway up Oliver’s calf and his brain was starting to short out.

  Oliver tried not to squirm as he answered, “He’s usually gone for hours when he’s out drinking after a game.”

  “That’s convenient.” Seth stood and
ran his hand through Oliver’s hair before walking off and tossing over his shoulder, “Meet you in bed.”

  Oliver’s hand spasmed on the table. “Okay,” he replied, barely able to find the breath to get it out as he watched Seth walk out of sight. He pushed away from the table and raced to Janos’s bathroom. He didn’t even care about getting a towel—he was hot enough that the water droplets on his skin would probably evaporate instantly. He hardly bothered to let the water heat up fully before jumping in, soaping up, shampooing and rinsing off.

  He thought of their last time together as he watched the soap run down his legs and into the drain, how he’d really taken Seth for granted; he’d just… taken that night. He knew he still loved him; it had felt so natural to be together. He wanted Seth back in his life, but he’d had no idea how to get Seth back, or if that was even what Seth wanted. Oliver had just assumed that they were on the same page this whole time. Once again, Oliver had jumped in with both feet, not thinking things through. He hadn’t thought about anything but the moment: he was with Seth and all was well.

  Right?

  And then he remembered how, back in New York City, Seth had offered to leave right away, to get out of Oliver’s way and not be a burden; had Seth thought it was just… what? Just that night, and nothing else? Something fun for Oliver to do while he was in town?

  Oh my God, that’s exactly what he thought.

  Sick, burning shame roiled in his gut as he shut the water off and pulled aside the shower curtain. He dried himself off rapidly and thought of how special Seth had made that night, how tender and attentive he’d been. How he’d wanted Oliver to look at him. How he’d held everything that Oliver was between his two hands and had loved him that night.

  And with absolutely no expectation of more. That was because Seth had thought it was all that he was going to be given: just that one night.