Play It Again, Charlie (58 page)

“Will.” He couldn't help the stern word, but Will's eyes were on him, and then he nodded.

“Okay, a little,” he admitted breathlessly, shoving his hands into his lap for a second before waving them around. “But... . But... .”

“She'll love you.” He shouldn't have said that, Christ. Charlie bit down and then looked ahead at the approaching curve in the road that meant they were close. The minute Will saw the house, there would be no turning back, no more living from day to day and pretending he wasn't hoping for more.

It was a jolt, cold and electric, and it left him shaking like it was the worst of his early anxious days after the accident. He couldn't be in the car with it, couldn't just sit here without moving, doing something desperate and foolish.

He barely slowed down before he pulled the car off the road into the shade between two oaks. He didn't rush, but when he parked and killed the engine, Will had one hand on the dash and was looking at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Is it the driving? How much further? If you want, I can— ”

“Will.” Charlie exhaled and took his hands off the wheel. He didn't want Will to see if they were shaking, and Will
was
watching him, breathing hard and carefully still, though he'd been almost bouncing in place moments before.

Charlie wet his mouth because
Will
was nervous about this and he shouldn't be. He took another moment and inhaled.

“Will.” He tried to force everything back down and failed when Will looked at him the way he did, quiet and expectant and trusting. Charlie hadn't realized he'd wanted that so much until Will had given it to him. He couldn't take it away yet. “Please. I need— ” It was there, panic that he barely kept down, different from his normal anxiety because it was only too rational.

“What? Are you in pain? Do you need a break?” Will was sweet concern, and Charlie looked at his slicked-down hair again, and his “conservative” button-down, open at the throat to reveal his quick pulse. He didn't want Will to worry, but if he opened his mouth, he knew he'd say too much and end up making it worse by pressuring him.

He looked out the window behind Will at the empty road and the vast fields, already yellow from the summer heat. Around the curve was the house. His house. His land.

He focused back on Will, outlined by grass and oak, noticing every anxious twitch, every flutter, and wondered if Will could possibly be as scared as he was. He couldn't allow that. It was something to hold onto, what he could do for Will, how he could take care of him.

“Will.” He used the voice he knew would make Will respond and then leaned over, undoing his seat belt with one hand before bringing that hand to Will's face. “Will.” He said it again and flushed when he could feel Will's shiver. Charlie lifted his head slowly, and when Will didn't move away, he dragged his lips over Will's skin until he found his mouth. It was open, parted in a little circle. He had on lip balm, and he exhaled when Charlie kissed him.

Charlie wanted to ask him to stay, but Will brought one hand up to curve his palm up over Charlie's neck to keep Charlie close, and it made Charlie go quiet. Will's fingers curled into the edge of Charlie's hair, his fingernails scraping his scalp when Charlie angled his head back to make the kiss deeper.

Charlie closed his eyes, focusing on the hint of sweat between them, the waxy taste that he licked away, the hum coming from Will's throat. He slid his mouth away to follow that, just for a moment, and Will said his name in a quiet murmur, followed by a tug at his hair to bring him back and a whispered “I love it when you kiss me, Charlie” that made Charlie cold again.

He was burning up but chilled because Will could, would, still leave, if not today, then soon. He let himself get drawn back up and took Will's mouth this time, pushing until his lips were buzzing, until his mouth was wet and Will was pulling at his shirt.

Charlie pulled away, to the side, to suck in air against Will's clean-shaven jaw and inhaled his own aftershave. His fingers tightened, burying themselves in Will's soft shirt, his hot skin. He wanted to leave marks and couldn't, not today, but he wanted to leave something behind him.

“So good.” It slipped out and made Will let out a hungry moan. “You're so good, Will. Good for me.” He was so quiet at the end that he wasn't sure Will heard all of it. What he did hear made him tense, uncertainty and surprise in his voice.

“I am?” He could tell Will was confused as much as he was turned on. Charlie nodded so Will could feel it, and Will arched away from his seat as far as his seat belt would let him. When Charlie's lips touched him, anywhere, he pushed forward, but his voice was quiet, his breath hitching when Charlie didn't take it further. And still he waited. Charlie wanted him so much.

“Charlie?”

“I want— ” He stopped and opened his eyes. Will's were shut, his cheeks pink, his lips swollen and equally flushed. He wet them while Charlie watched.

“What? What do you want, Charlie?” His breath came faster after the question, but his hands moved back to Charlie's hair, to toy with it the way he liked to do.

Charlie swallowed. When he didn't answer, Will finally opened his eyes. Charlie had no idea what was on his face, but knew it was too much from the way Will stared back. Charlie swallowed again and inched back. He could still smell his aftershave. It made his chest tight.

“Okay.” Will seemed like he was trying to reason something out but couldn't think clearly enough to manage. He shifted in his seat then exhaled. “Okay. What?”

“Sorry.” Now that his heart was racing and he had Will warm and clinging to him, Charlie wasn't certain that kissing Will had been such a great idea. But he couldn't stop running his hands over Will's shirt, down his chest and shoulders.

“Huh?” Will's tone was fuzzy, pleased and thick the way it was when he first woke up. It made Charlie regret ever getting out of bed to come on this trip. He might never get to hear that tone again. Will swallowed, but his voice stayed sticky. “For what? What was that about?”

Stay
. Charlie barely bit it back. He held himself still with his mouth just over Will's skin for a second longer.
Stay.
If he said it, it was real.

He forced himself to move, easing back into the driver's seat and letting go of Will. Will's eyes opened wide.

“What? That's it? I mean, not that I'm complaining, because... .” Will trailed off as he licked his lips again. Charlie quickly looked out at the road.

“I wanted... .” It was so close, too close to what he needed to say. Charlie could taste Will in his mouth, feel his hand at the back of his neck. “I wanted to take your mind off things.” It was partly true. But when he felt Will staring incredulously at him, he looked back. Will's cheeks remained flushed and his eyes were bright and his mouth... wasn't something Charlie could let himself think about this close to his family's house.

“Well, okay.” From Will's sideways glance, he wasn't sure Will believed him, but he nodded and then extended one hand to make a lazy, aroused “gimme” gesture. “But so you know, in the future, you are welcome to distract me like that as much as you want. Or now, Charlie. Because that was... that was... something.” He ran a hand down his thigh, pushing slightly and making a happy but pained sound. “You tease.”

It made Charlie's breath catch, the offer as much as Will's innocent talk of the future. But he finally shook his head.

“We... we're already running late. We should go and... and that isn't... . This is my family's land. I couldn't... do more here.” He wasn't sure he was making sense. Will's expression said Will thought he'd lost his mind for sure. But he was already weak enough for Will; this place couldn't hold that memory too.

Will sat up. “Are you serious? After
that
?” Will stuck his bottom lip in a brief pout. “And whose fault is it that we're late? Not me. I'm innocent here, Big Daddy.”

“Big— ?” Charlie ducked his head, though he couldn't hide his blush. What his grandmother said about him being a patriarch was bad enough; he didn't need Will getting in on the act too. “I don't think I like that one,” he said quietly instead of explaining, then turned to reach for his seat belt. He forgot about the seat belt when Will went on, with a curious heat in his voice.

“How about Papi, then?”

Charlie's fumbling hands let go of the belt as he shot Will a look. He'd meant it to be a warning, but Will was still safely seat-belted in the passenger seat with the trees and the yellow summer grass behind him. He was red-faced and Charlie had messed up his hair, but Will hadn't noticed yet. If he had he wouldn't have been sitting so peacefully, too pink for total calm but at ease.
Happy
. Charlie had done that.

Will was entirely serious, as if he wanted Charlie's answer the way Charlie wanted him.

Charlie felt his face get warm and cleared his throat.

“Just not where my abuela can hear you,” he agreed, anything to keep Will like that, and Will's answer carried easily over the sound of the engine starting.

“Whatever you say, Charlie.”

He was smiling now. Charlie wanted to touch him, keep him, and put a hand out blindly without taking his eyes from the road. He didn't even realize he was reaching until Will grabbed his hand and pulled it down to the armrest. He held it loosely for a second but didn't say anything when Charlie locked their fingers together and gripped his hand in a way he knew was too tight. If anything, he seemed to like it.

Their hands stayed that way until they had stopped in front of the farmhouse. It was something Charlie was trying not to think about, but his hand felt empty, like Will had already slipped away. His grandmother wasn't helping by staying between them and not giving them a chance to be alone.

“You will help me in the kitchen?” Despite the lift in his grandmother's voice, it wasn't a question. Nana turned to Will with every expectation that he was going to help her prepare dinner, and though Charlie had no idea why, other than whatever she assumed about his relationship with Will and how, despite all reasoning, she thought of cooking as woman's work, he jumped to explain.

“Will doesn't cook.”

She turned and gave him the exact look that Will had given him when he'd gotten his first look at the house. It was a large restored Victorian with sheds, a barn, and several smaller buildings surrounding it.

Will had stared for a moment. “That is
not
a farmhouse.”

Then he'd watched Charlie with narrowed eyes as they'd gotten out of the car. His mouth had still been swollen, his cheeks still flushed, but Charlie had not commented. Will had not been in the mood for teasing.

“Charlie, are you rich? Because this house says you are.” Despite his pissed expression, despite how their hands weren't together anymore, Will had allowed Charlie to lead him up to the porch. He'd even leaned in to plant another small kiss on Charlie's mouth. They'd walked up the stairs together, with Charlie's heart pounding so hard he'd been expecting Will to say something about it.

Answering that it
was
a farmhouse had only worked until they'd slipped in the side door to the kitchen, the way family always entered, and Will had gotten a good look around. It had been remodeled recently so Nana could have a state of the art kitchen. Will had hissed, “Oh, you aren't nice. This was a bad idea. I shouldn't be here,” right as Charlie had tried to explain that he didn't have money, the family did, and even that wasn't what Will was thinking, but then his abuela had walked in and he hadn't had a chance.

He'd moved to meet her, pulling Will with him, and kissed the top of her head while she asked him in Spanish how he was and if the drive had been okay, if he'd been eating properly. Nana smelled like lemons and soap, like always, and he breathed her in for a moment. She'd looked up at him then, smiling when he'd kissed her again though clearly not believing him when he told her he'd been taking care of himself, and then turning her attention to Will.

Charlie had moved back to introduce them, but Will's fingers had slipped from his to smooth down his shirt.

He had put on a new collared shirt while cleaning up, the one from his bag, which was long sleeved and black with sparkling pinstripes— and a few wrinkles, but he looked gorgeous in it, excited, nervous, and not at all like he'd just had messy sex in Charlie's car.

But he'd flushed anyway before Nana had even said a word to him, ducking his head only to shoot Charlie a startled look when she'd stepped in to hug him too.

She barely reached Will's chin, but he grunted at the strength in her welcome, offering a smile when she pulled away. Her gaze had gone right to his hair, and Charlie had thought that maybe Will had been right about his hairstyle after all.

Nana tended to dress in bright colors but simply, and wear her silver hair braided down her back. Only her earrings sparkled. She'd turned enough to raise her eyebrows at Charlie before patting Will's chest. Charlie had sucked in a breath.

“Nana, this is Will.”

“William,” she'd repeated instantly, staring into Will's eyes. “Welcome.” Will's hands had come up, his gaze flicking uncertainly to Charlie before he'd closed his mouth. He had gone unexpectedly quiet and still, aside from the fluttering motions of his hands.

“Hi. Your house is... really nice.”

“Thank you. Carlos es muy guapo. En que trabaja?”

“Abuela.” Charlie should be grateful that she'd switched to Spanish to tell him Will was pretty and ask what Will did for a living. He might have been, if she hadn't answered that Mark had been pretty too and then gone back to English to ask if Will had minded the drive and if he'd like a drink.

Will had seemed more surprised when Charlie had gotten a beer and he'd only received a glass of juice. Nana had
ideas
about some things, but had nodded with acceptance when Charlie had gotten a beer for Will too.

“I wasn't expecting a working farm. But then, Charlie didn't mention it.” Will had been comfortable enough to glare briefly at Charlie, but it hadn't lasted. Nana had taken his arm, forcing him to put down his drink without a sip, and then pulled him with her to tour the ground floor of the house, all the while explaining that it was a working farm but it wasn't the only family business and how much work was involved in each of them.