The beefy roar of an engine pulls in the drive. I can’t see it from here, but that’s a sound I’d know anywhere. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The engine shuts off, a door creaks on its hinges as it opens and shuts, and moments later he comes marching through my kitchen and lounge room and out onto the back patio. Will never worried about boundaries, or etiquette for that matter, so I’m not surprised he walked through my house uninvited.
“Hey,” he says, sitting in the seat beside me.
“Hey yourself.”
“I saw you drive past,” he mutters. “Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t come in.”
I glare at him. “You told me not to set foot in your bar again.”
He puffs out his cheeks and exhales loudly. “Yeah, well, I’m a jackarse, and I should have let you explain things.”
“You think?”
He gives me an unhappy smile and says, “This situation’s just all fucked up, you know?”
“What’s new though, right?”
“So is she here?” he asks, glancing around, though I know he already knows the answer.
“No, and you’d better thank Christ for that little blessing, or she’d be running you out of the house wielding fucking cooking supplies, or stationery or some shit. I don’t know what the fuck she’s into.”
“Yet you’re living with her?”
I shrug. “I didn’t want her to move in; we weren’t even fucking together.”
“You weren’t fucking, or you weren’t together?” he says. “Because those are two very different things, North.”
“We were fucking. I don’t know, we’d kinda stopped, and she was all over this other guy from Whitebridge, and I thought we were done, and then she starts crying and tells me that she has nowhere to live.”
Will shakes his head, but he grins his typical smartarse grin. “Jesus, you’re a douche.”
I turn my palms up in the universal gesture for what the fuck? “I didn’t know what the hell else to do.”
“I have to know,” Will says, his expression turning serious. “Did you fuck her when we were together?”
“No,” I say, and then I frown. “I fucked her the night you rejected me.”
“What?” he snaps.
“Or I tried to. I’d been thinking of someone else,” I say, giving him a pointed look. “And I stuck my finger in her arse.”
He clears his throat. “Did she like it?”
“Dude, she beat the shit out of me and then she ran away crying.” I smile, trying to fight my laughter. Will chortles, throwing his head back and clutching his stomach. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen. He begins taunting me with Georgie Porgie, a children’s nursery rhyme about a fat kid who kisses girls and makes them cry.
“When the girl came out to play, North stuck his finger in her arse and she ran away,” Will finishes. I should have kept my mouth shut. He’s having way too much fun with this.
When his laughter dies away, Will takes my beer and downs the rest of it, setting the empty stubbie back on the table. “Do you want her here?”
“You know there are other beers in the fridge?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No. I don’t. I just wanted to help her get back on her feet, but she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.”
“Yeah, I know a couple guys like that.” Will nods. “You send ’em off into the big, wide world, and there they are, banging down your door at three a.m. in order to get some.”
“Like you’re complaining.” I grab us another drink from the kitchen. Twisting the caps off both stubbies, I throw them in the sink to clean up later and head outside onto the deck, holding a beer out to Will. He takes it, but instead of drinking he sets it down, grabs my forearm and pulls me towards him. Beer sloshes out of the bottle and onto my hand, but I’m a little preoccupied with his lips on mine and his tongue pushing into my mouth.
I set it down on the table beside him and ignore the clink of glass when it tips the other one over, just like I ignore the amber liquid pouring out onto my glass tabletop and spattering my legs as it splashes onto the floor.
Cupping Will’s face, I run my fingers over his stubbled jaw. I groan into his mouth and trail my hands down his body over muscled abs to the waistline of his jeans. I slip inside and take hold of his thick cock, giving it a firm squeeze as he unfastens his pants and roughly shoves them down his hips. Will breaks the kiss, sucking in a hissing breath as I slide my fingertip over his slit. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pushes my head lower.
“Cocky bastard.” I chuckle, pulling him free of his pants, I grin up at him.
“Suck my dick, Underwood.”
“I plan on it.” I lower my head and lick along his shaft. His erection jumps involuntarily. He wets his lips and slides his T-shirt up, playing with the little barbell in his nipple. I trail my lips up and draw the piercing into my mouth, tugging it between my teeth. Will moans and takes his cock in his hands sliding it against my flat stomach. The drop of pre-cum leaves a wet trail along my abs, and I reach down and wipe it off with my fingers, sucking them clean. Will’s lips turn up in a half-smile and then that smirk disappears when I lower my body to the lawn chair and shove between his knees and take him into my mouth.
“Oh fuck. Yeah, suck my cock, you little prick-tease,” Will says, fisting his hands in my hair.
I start out slow, taking him only a small way in before he bucks his hips and finally I deep-throat him. It’s hard not to gag—not because I don’t like it, but because I don’t know how anyone can do that shit without gagging. Seems like Will takes me halfway down his neck before he lets up—but I want this to be enjoyable for him so I swallow down my fear with the sweet, salty taste of his cock and let my mind go.
“You like my dick in your mouth?” he asks. I release him with a pop and lick the underside of his shaft.
“Yeah, I like your dick in my mouth, Will.”
Gripping my hair, he guides me back to him. “Then don’t ever fucking lie to me again.”
We share a look filled with heat, anger, and something deeper that I don’t want to name in case I’m mistaken. I nod and suck him hard.
“That’s it, take me deep, North, and don’t fucking stop until I coat the back of your throat with my come.”
I groan. If he doesn’t cut it out, I’m gonna jizz in my pants pretty soon. Will sucks in a sharp, hissing breath through his teeth. He thrusts his hips forward, throwing the rhythm completely off, but somehow that works, because his abs clench, his balls tighten and thick, hot bursts of semen fill my mouth. I swallow every last drop he has to give and savour the unfamiliar taste of him on my tongue.
“Holy Christ, you’re gonna kill me, Underwood. I haven’t come that hard since we were kids.” Will still grips my hair as the rest of him goes lax in my lawn chair. His eyes are closed and his whole body jerks involuntarily as my tongue licks at the smooth, round head.
He looks sleepy and content, which is not something I see on him very often. I can’t help wanting to kiss him, so I crawl up his body and lean in. He pushes me away.
“You smell like come.”
I grin. “I taste like it too. Wanna try?”
Will laughs, and I settle instead for kissing his cheek and jaw, down his neck and across to his earlobe, where I take the fleshy mound below his gauges and bite. For the first time in weeks I feel … light … buoyant. And then that all comes crashing down when I hear the front door slam and Tammy’s heels on the tiles.
“Fuck. Tam’s here,” I whisper, and step back into the table. The bottles rattle around, and one falls to the floor and smashes.
“North?” Tammy says from the hall. “Sweetie, are you okay?”
“Sweetie?” Will asks, but I can see he’s having fun with this, and he pisses himself laughing over my clumsy feet as he tucks himself back inside his jeans. “Your erection is massive, by the way. There’s no way she’s not going to see that.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I make it back to my seat and sit down, covering myself with the cushion.
“Seriously, that shit is like a weapon of mass destruction. I’d like to take it and put it in my—”
“North?” Tammy steps out onto the patio and stares between the two of us.
“Oh hey, Tam,” I say, and I don’t sound the least bit casual. Behind her, Will shakes his head.
Tammy’s eyes roll over Will as if he were vermin to be stepped on. “What is he doing here?”
“Nice to see you again too, Tammy, and under much better circumstances than you screaming North’s name at the top of your lungs outside my bedroom window.”
“Can I talk to you?” she says, ignoring Will’s comments and looking directly at me.
“Sure.” I let her lead the way because while my cock started lagging the second she set foot on the patio, I’m not completely out of the wood. Pun intended.
“Busted,” Will supplies helpfully, as I follow Tam into the kitchen.
“What is he doing here, North?”
“Having a beer. What does it look like?” I grind out through my teeth, because I don’t like her tone.
“Since when do you drink beer with …” She pauses, clearly searching for the right words.
I find a little of Will rubbing off on me. “The only gay in the village?”
“I’m serious.” She folds her arms across her chest. “You being there until all hours of the night, and the two of you alone here today? What would people say?”
“I don’t give a fuck what anyone says. I’m having a beer with my friend. The fact that he’s gay is irrelevant.”
“He’s your friend now?”
“No, he’s my arch-nemesis. I’ve just invited him around for a beer so I can poison him and watch his demise before dinner.” Will’s laughter filters in from the patio, and I find myself smiling, though I know I shouldn’t. “Yes, he’s my friend. And you know what? I don’t give a shit if you don’t like it. You know where the door is.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” she demands.
“We were never fucking together in the first place,” I shout. “I gave you somewhere to stay while you got back on your feet, which considering the amount of shopping bags I see littering my bench here, you’re well and truly back on them and parading around in fancy new fucking shoes. If you’re going to be a homophobic bitch, then yeah, I want you gone.”
“You’re kicking me out over a … a fag?”
“Watch your mouth, Tam,” I warn.
Will steps into the kitchen. “Maybe I should—”
“Don’t bother. I’m totally leaving. You …” she says pointing a bony, chipped polished finger at me, “you can make your own lunches from now on.”
Naw shit.
Tam gathers up her shopping bags and struts down the hall, not bothering to grab any of her other belongings. I guess she’ll be back for those later. I never intended to hurt her, but that shit just didn’t sit right. Saying all that stuff with Will in earshot? Not fucking cool.
Tam’s car starts up and roars down my drive, and Will turns to me with a you’ve done it now smirk on his sexy-as-fuck face. “She really made your lunches?”
“Yeah.” I cringe, and rub the back of my neck.
“You arsehole.”
“Dude, those were some fucking awesome lunches. Like five-star restaurant quality—all the guys at work were jealous.”
“How would you know what constitutes as five-star?”
“Shut the fuck up. Another beer?” I ask with a grin. “Since my mouth so rudely interrupted your first?”
“Nah. I should get going. I gotta help Dad get to his Cripples Anonymous meetings.”
“Jesus, you really are a cunt sometimes.”
“Hey, someone has to keep him in check,” he says, smiling. “If I didn’t knock him down a few pegs, the bastard would be riding around town on a fucking float waving to all the common people below who haven’t had a stroke.”
“Fuck, remind me never to get seriously injured around you. Knowing my luck, we’d be old and grey, and you’d be hanging my wheelchair over the stairs of our retirement home.”
“Yeah, like we’d make it to old and grey,” he mutters.
I frown. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he says, turning to leave. “I’ll just see you later.”
I reach out and grab his arm, yanking him back to me. He seems determined to struggle free, so I don’t hold him. “What do you mean?”
“It means I don’t trust you. It means I can’t get invested because I don’t know when you’re going to pull the rug out from under my arse.”
“Are you ever going to forgive me for that shit? It was twelve fucking years ago.”
“And I’m still fucking broken because if it!” he yells. “I’m still in love with you, dickhead. Not a fucking thing has changed for me in twelve years.”
I flinch. I don’t mean to, but I do. I’m so used to hiding what we are, what I am that it’s instinctual now. He’s waiting for a response, and I can’t give him the one he wants. “I don’t … I don’t know what to say.”
“Say it back,” Will pleads. My heart hammers out a broke-down rhythm, and sweat prickles along the back of my neck. I can’t say it. Saying it would set into motion things that I have no control over. He shakes his head and sighs. “That’s what I thought.”
Will wrenches free of my grasp and walks out my front door, and I let him, because telling him I love him could mean risking everything, including our lives.
I take longer than I should on the drive home. I can’t meet my dad right now, so I text him to let him know I’ll be twenty minutes away. I pull the Charger into a quiet lot at the lookout. Thankfully, no one else is around to see me lose my shit. And lose it I do. I take all of my rage out on the steering wheel, smashing it with my fist and laying on the horn as I roar my frustration and heartache until a feeling of helplessness overwhelms me, and I rest my forehead against the black leather and swallow back the lump in my throat. North rings my phone. Dad rings my phone. Sal rings my phone.
Never alone, but always lonely.
I don’t answer any of the calls, but I do text Sal and ask her to take Dad to his meeting.
I text Josh.
Me: Hey, you busy?
Josh: I’m a defence attorney, Will. I’m always busy.
Me: Right. Never mind.
Josh: What, no comeback? Are you sick? On your deathbed, choking on that gorgeous blond’s cock?
Nope, but he was choking on mine a half hour ago.
Me: Not at the moment, no.
Josh: What’s on your mind Will? I haven’t heard from you since we left Sinners. It’s so unlike you to not call for a pity fuck.
Me: Fuck you, arsehole.
Josh: Fuck me? Or my arsehole?
Me: Isn’t it essentially the same thing?
Josh: Good point. You need me to come over?
Me: No, I’ll come to you.
Josh: Jesus Christ. I just dropped the phone. You come to me? Did hell freeze over?
Me: See you in an hour.
I stand in the hallway, waiting on Josh to open the door. I’ve been here enough times before to know he lives in what’s probably the wankiest building in Newcastle. Everything is pristine. White tiles, walls and ceilings, with sleek chrome surfaces and clean, crisp lighting. Next to me, Josh is the most unclean motherfucker I’ve ever met, so he belongs in this building about as much as I do.
“Hey,” I mumble, as he pulls back the door. He’s still in his suit from work, a grey designer piece I’ve seen before that fits snugly. His hair is styled with some kind of product, and he looks tired but presentable. Too presentable. I resist the urge to reach out and muss his hair so he looks a little more like my friend Josh and not some corporate, well-dressed robot.
“Hey yourself,” he says, loosening his tie. I thrust the bottle of booze I bought from the liquor shop down the street
at him and step inside the apartment.
“Turkey tonight, huh?” Josh appraises the bottle and whistles. “Why do I feel like we’re about to hear another somebody-done-someone-wrong song?”
“Did your maid come today?” I ask, ignoring his question as I glance around the unusually tidy apartment. He closes the door and walks by me to the very shiny kitchen to pour us a drink.
“Cleaner,” he says. “And yes, Abigail came to the apartment today.”
“You don’t worry she goes through your stuff when you’re not here?” I take a seat at the small breakfast bar and toy with the lid he just removed from the whiskey bottle. “Like, what if she’s using that giant dildo you own, and you know nothing about it?”
Josh glares. “Jesus, Will. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I blurt out.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the ruggedly sexy blond you threw under the bus the other night, would it?”
I stare at him. “Threw under the bus?”
“Come on, Will.” He grins, taking out a couple of glasses and pouring the amber liquid. “It was kind of a douche move, testing him like that.”
Was it that obvious?
I knew it was a dick thing to do, but I needed to know. I needed to see if he could handle being a part of this life, and in many ways it tested me far more than him, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“If you knew then why the hell did you give him such a hard time?” I ask.
Josh shrugs. “I like to play gay for the haters.”
“He’s not a hater,” I snap.
“He’s not one of us either.” He hands me the glass of whiskey and I gulp it down.
I wrinkle my nose and beat my chest as the liquor burns my gullet. “Jesus, that tastes like piss.”
“You bought it.”
“I’m losing my goddamned mind, Josh.” I shake my head. “I can’t even think fucking straight.
“It’s because, like a douchebag, you fell in love with a douchebag.” Josh grabs the bottle of whiskey and walks over to the couch. I let out a humourless laugh, snatch our glasses from the kitchen bench and follow, falling onto the plush sofa when he yanks on my arm. “Settle in, William. You’re spending the night here, and we’re going to get shitfaced.”
Finding North Page 12
