Worth a Thousand Words (4 page)
Adrien leaned against the empty patch of wall where Sam’s bookcase had sat beneath the sunroom/dining room windows and looked out through the frost decorated glass at his mom and Papa Carlos one story down. The lump in the back of his throat hadn’t gotten any smaller when Sam, the damn brat, had said goodbye to Michael Clarke Duncan. The punk had had red rimmed eyes, and— it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to feel sorry for Sam. Especially not after the super apologetic call from Andy, telling him that one of the owners of the Christmas Village had caught the video on YouTube. Evidently, a lot of people caught it on YouTube, and the owner was worried one of the parents might recognize one of their elves as the rising young porn star from Stupid Shit Adrien Does, so he was out of work effective immediately.
At least Sam’s reckless ass had gotten the hint when Adrien beat him over the head with that clue-by-four, and stopped bitching about moving back home. Crap. If Adrien couldn’t find another job fairly quickly, he was gonna have to move back home too.
The sight of Michael Rose striding up to his parents, seemingly out of nowhere caused butterflies to start zinging around in Adrien’s stomach. Wherever Michael was, Devon was sure to be close by most of the time. O.M.G. He so was not ready to see Devon yet.
Adrien rested one hand on the scarred wood surface of the small, antique dining room table to his left, breathing shallowly through his open mouth. His mom had cleared the table, washed up the dishes and put the tablecloth in the laundry hamper before he came out of his bedroom. Evidently Michael Clarke Duncan had shed so much hair the beautifully set up date night setting had been unusable. Adrien glanced wildly around the house. Streaks of something orange and lumpy ran down the wall in front of him. What could that—he gasped, recalling the night three months ago when Sam had sworn he’d cleaned up every bit of the orange juice he’d spilled over the windowsill and top of the bookcase.
Pushing away from the window, Adrien hurried into the kitchen. He yanked the door to the cabinet below the sink open.
Sometime in the past week, Sam must have made an actual attempt to clean. Adrien could tell, because there were at least three cleaning products lying on their sides, leaking fluids from improperly closed lids. In addition, there were zero sponges, rags or paper towels. He whirled around to check the shopping list he constantly hounded Sam to update so he could make sure they had stuff at the apartment. Oh, for fucks sake. Right there, scrawled in what looked like—Adrien scraped off a bit of the brownish red substance, sniffed and then tasted it—yep, ketchup, was a reminder for Adrien to get more sponges, rags and paper towels.
“Cripes, Sam, no wonder we were always running out of Hunt’s if your skanky behind was using it to write notes. Eww, bro, just ewwwww.”
Adrien dropped his head against the front of the fridge and thumped it there a few times for good measure. The knocking at the front door became discernible when he stopped. Adrien squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Louder knocks sounded, along with Michael’s voice raised in—shit, he sounded really irritated.
“God damn it, Sarge, you can’t kick his door in. His parents just left, for fuck’s sake. Do you really think a stalker got past Mr. Jimenez to hold Adrien hostage in his own apartment? We’re not in the damned Sandbox anymore, Sarge. Just knock again—oh, hey, Adrien.” Michael’s voice decreased in volume as he spoke, but by the time he finished, Adrien had the door open and was glaring at up at both men.
Propping his hands on both hips, he opened his
mouth, realized he had no idea who exactly he was pissed at, or how much of the anger he felt belonged to the two idiots in front of him and how much he should save for Sam.
Turning on his neon green sock clad foot, Adrien flounced back into the kitchen to continue staring at the mess under his sink. He scrupulously avoided looking up when two oversized idiots flooded into his smallish kitchen. Michael at least had the good sense to take a seat at the table. Devon, however, crowded up against Adrien’s back. The rush of heat along his back wrapped him in a Drakkar scented cloud of comfort. Only the mixed-up mishmash of cleaning scents offset the smell of Devon and allowed Adrien to maintain his control.
Devon reached around him with one long, militaryissue-parka clad arm to push the cabinet door closed. Adrien whirled around, burying his face in the slick fabric of the cold pine and warm Drakkar scented coat stretched across Devon’s broad chest. He drew in a shaking breath. Clutching the tough fabric at Devon’s sides in his hands, Adrien pulled himself closer.
Michael slapped his open palm down on the table with a resounding crack. “What the fuck? Is Andy out of his mind?”
One of Devon’s arms eased away from Adrien’s back, and then the jingle only multiple keys on a ring could make filled the air. “Go find out. You can leave Betsy at my place—and Rose, there had better not be a damn scratch on her or I will kick your ass.”
Adrien’s eyes started leaking, and he pushed his face harder against Devon. There was an undignified whimpering sound coming from somewhere. A scraping noise came from the vicinity of the table, and then another hand touched Adrien, this one falling on his shoulder and grasping it with a light squeeze.
Adrien kept his head down. Crap. Michael had seen the video. Oh crap, crap, crap, their entire group of friends had probably seen it. He moaned. Michael’s hand patted his shoulder, and then there was the sound of his apartment door opening and the clicking of the lock as it closed. Devon didn’t speak, not a word. Instead, he ran his hands down Adrien’s back starting just below his shoulders and stopping just above his ass, over and over. Adrien trembled, pushing into the strokes. He pulled at Devon’s coat.
Devon chuckled, tightening his arms around Adrien and lifting him off his feet. He hefted Adrien up, sliding his hands under Adrien’s ass and lifting him until only one thing made sense. As Adrien slid his arms around Devon’s neck and locked his ankles behind Devon’s waist, the feelings he’d been fighting all morning finally got away from him. Ever since he realized exactly what the new viral video posted on Stupid Shit Adrien Does entailed, his eyes had been burning, and his throat trying to close in humiliation.
He pressed his hot, wet face into Devon’s shoulder and shook. Devon made a grumbling, growling sound deep in his chest. He turned, walking through the kitchen and small hallway towards the bedrooms. The rumble of his voice vibrated against Adrien’s cheek as he spoke.
Adrien pointed to the right without lifting his head. Devon grunted, kicked at the cracked open door with his foot and walked straight to Adrien’s messy, unmade bed.
Devon’s skin was on fire. He placed Adrien carefully on the bed. His hands shook as he grasped the tab of his coat’s zipper and pulled it down. Adrien lay on the bed, his sweet little mouth pressed tightly closed, his chest heaving, and tears making twin tracks of silvery wetness from the corners of his eyes. Devon yanked his coat off, dropping it to the floor behind him. Grasping the collar of his standard black tee-shirt, he ripped it off over his head in one rough movement.
Adrien turned to his side, a low sound spilling out of him. He reached out blindly, snagging a pillow and pulling it over his face. Devon growled, his hands already flicking open the buttons of his faded Levi jeans.
“Adrien, I don’t mind undressing us both, but if you like what you’re wearing I suggest you take it off yourself. I don’t have a lot of patience right now, and I’m liable to tear something.”
Devon waited for a moment as he toed off his sneakers. They hadn’t spent a lot of time together yet, but he had a pretty good sense of the guy. Unless he was mistaken, what he’d just said was gonna light Adrien up like a roman candle. He smirked, and started counting.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
Adrien’s arm flung out, slinging the pillow off his
face as he reared up. If he hadn’t been watching for it, the little bugger would have clocked Devon right across the mouth. Devon caught Adrien’s flailing arm, a wicked smile curving his mouth as he followed the line of firm flesh back up past his brand new boyfriend’s beautifully muscled shoulder to the biteable line of his throat.
“Do you want to keep that shirt?” Devon heard the dip in his voice as the thought of ripping all the buttons off Adrien’s shirt to get to his well-defined pectoral muscles. Saliva pooled in his mouth and Devon swallowed hard. Adrien’s suddenly wide-eyed gaze swept over Devon’s chest. When he raised his eyes back up to Devon’s face, his eyes were hot and wet looking.
“It’s never been one of my favorites.” The husky timbre of Adrien’s voice sparked the dry tinder of Devon’s lust, setting him utterly aflame.
Devon pushed his jeans and briefs to the floor, stepping on the hem of one leg with the other foot. As he crawled up onto the bed, he used his newly freed leg to push the pants fully off. Crawling up along Adrien’s body, he stopped to place a nipping bite on the thin line of flesh visible between the jean’s waistband and shirt’s hem of Adrien’s clothes.
Adrien made a shocked squeaking noise. Devon’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. Adrien’s bed smelled of the coconut scented shampoo the younger man used, and nothing else. Devon’s dick hardened in a rush. He pushed up above Adrien’s lithe form, drawing his legs up until he kneeled with one leg on either side of Adrien’s slim hips. Sitting back on his heels, Devon gripped the collar of Adrien’s shirt. He fingered it for a moment, noting the sturdy cotton fabric as the backs of his fingers smoothed against the sides of Adrien’s throat.
Trembling, Adrien lifted his hands up to rest them on Devon’s thighs just above his knees. “Okay. Just—get it off of me. Please.”
Devon’s breath slammed out of his body. He closed his eyes for a split-second, closing away the vision of Adrien’s molten gaze. Doing so only intensified the sensation of Adrien’s fingers alternately gripping and stroking his legs. Devon slipped the buttons free as quickly as his fingers could move. The last one came free, and he pushed the dull green fabric of Adrien’s shirt aside, sliding his hands around Adrien’s sides. He pushed them up and under, lifting Adrien’s pale olive skin up to his hungry mouth.
Adrien gasped as Devon’s mouth closed over the edge of one collarbone. Devon nipped and sucked his way along Adrien’s flesh until he found the sweet dip just between the two collarbones. He licked and kissed that spot, pulling back to touch one finger to the little hollow.
“This is mine. Always mine, no matter where you go or anything that ever happens between us, this spot is mine.”
Devon turned his head then, drawn to bite the tender place where Adrien’s shoulder met his neck. Running his teeth over the area, he bit down lightly. Adrien moaned, and the broken off sound unleashed something savage in Devon. He growled, pushing one hand higher up under Adrien until he gripped a fistful of hair at the nape of the smaller man’s neck. He lifted his torso away far enough to rake his eyes over Adrien from face to chest to waist, and the delightful denim covered bulge below. He snarled, jerking Adrien up against his chest. Sealing his mouth over Adrien’s, he licked along the seam of the Adrien’s closed lips. Adrien whined, opening his mouth immediately.
Inside he tasted of honey and something nutty. Devon moaned this time, low and hard, as a wave of burning need swept through him. He needed in Adrien. Now, he needed in right God damned now.
Tearing his mouth free of the most addictive thing he’d every tasted, Devon gritted out his words. “Where are your supplies?”
Adrien blinked stupidly at him for a moment, and then his face flushed bright red. “Oh. Lube’s in the nightstand. Um, condoms… I was gonna get some on the way home. I don’t… I don’t have any—”
Hot, angry joy coursed through Devon as one inescapable thought clawed its way through his mind. Adrien was not prepared for quick hook-ups. A feral feeling rose in his chest, and his eyes narrowed to half open slits of burning need.
“I have one in my wallet. I stopped in the bathroom up at school, just in case you didn’t have anything here. I wanted to be prepared.”
Adrien started to open his mouth, but Devon was done talking. He yanked Adrien back up, plundering his mouth like the sweet treasure it was. When Adrien went soft and pliant in his hands he tore himself reluctantly away long enough to unbutton and unzip Adrien’s jeans. He shucked them off Adrien’s disproportionately long legs, dizzied by the image of those limbs wrapped around him as he plunged, deep and hard into the hot, tight depths of Adrien’s body. Devon shook his head, snatched his pants from the floor to pull out his wallet, and then turned to pull open the drawer of the nightstand. Unable to reach what he wanted from the bed, Devon climbed off. He stood next to the bed gazing down into the nightstand’s open door for a moment before he slanted a delighted grin at Adrien.