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soup kitchen with me because he s a good guy and people love
him when he s there, because giving& talking& it s just so natural
to him, they can tell that& he s just goodness. They want to be
closer to him, just to feel it come off his skin.
 But he s my dream boy. Mine. And I want to be the only one
close enough to him to feel it up close and personal. So when I m
done kissing that line away, I m going to wrap my arms up under
his and pull him close, kiss the back of his neck, kiss his spine, kiss
down the length of his back& right up to the place he doesn t want
anybody to touch, and I m going to kiss that too. I ll lick him down
there, I ll suck anything he wants in my mouth, I ll fucking worship
him. I keep him safe. I promised. So he s going to be safe. He s
going to be so safe in my hands and my mouth& he s going to
come, any way he wants to, and I m going to make him, any way he
wants me to, and when I m done, and he s done, and we re
sweating and panting, I m going to kiss him again. I m going to tell
him that I lo 
 Don t say it. Tate s voice grew firm, grew angry, and Brian
had had enough. He opened the door to the suddenly
claustrophobic blue-walled stall and spoke to the seam of Tate s
door, trying with all his will to make out Tate s features. He was
huddled back behind the toilet, his arms wrapped around his body.
E ven through the seam of the wall, Brian could tell he was
shaking.
 I love y 
 Don t say it! Tate yelled, and Brian yelled back at him.
 You don t want me to say it, you come out here and stop me,
dammit!
And he d done it. He d made Tate mad enough to throw back
the bolt on the door.
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70
 Don t say 
O h yeah Tate was surprised, that was for sure.  Jesus,
Brian, what the hell happened to your hair?
 I cut it, Brian told him shortly. Tate s arms dropped to his
sides, and he stared at Brian with absolute puzzlement. His
guyliner was smeared all over his face, and Brian lifted his hands
and used his thumbs to wipe it away. Tears replaced the mess, so
Brian wiped his hands on his pants and wiped those away too.
 Why? Tate asked, his voice choked.
 Because I love you, Talker. I ve been trying to tell you forever.
I love you exactly the way you wanted me to but I m too stupid to
be Prince C harming. You re going to have to settle for me.
And now Brian felt naked. Just bare and exposed and
vulnerable. F air s fair, he thought painfully. This was how Tate went
through life. If he was going to earn Tate Walker, he had to be
brave enough to risk being naked and foolish and hurt.
Tate sniffled.  You re not stupid, he whispered, and Brian s
heart actually started to beat for the first time since he d come into
this horrid little restroom.
 Then let me be Prince C harming, Brian whispered back. He
was one, maybe two inches taller than Tate just tall enough for it
to mean something when he framed that made-up, decorated face
with his sturdy palms and angled Tate s mouth for a kiss.
Tate s mouth opened up under his, and it was& so sweet. His
lips were firm, and male, and Brian could feel the stubble and the
angles of Tate s chin under his palms, and Tate opened that hot
mouth, bitter with the taste of tears and makeup, and just let Brian
in. Brian invaded, and he was firm, and strong, and tender, and
everything he wanted Tate to know was in Brian s heart, it was right
there, like the song said, in his kiss.
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71
He kissed harder and deeper, and Tate whimpered and gave
way back to the divider of the bathroom, and then Jed stuck his
head in and said,  Are you two about done here? There s a line of a
billion people who got to pee!
Tate pulled up and said,  Shit! and Brian flushed.
 Let s go home,  kay? We ve got shit to talk about, and 
Tate nodded.  And we ve got to fix your hair, he said woefully,
running his hands up the shaved sides, feeling the buzzcut under
his fingertips.
 It ll grow back, Brian said softly.  I d shave myself bald, if
that s what it took to get you to look at me.
 I am looking at you, Tate said, and their chests were
touching, and Brian felt such a wave of want wash through his body
that it was all he could do not to just take Talker into the big
bathroom and do everything he fantasized about right there.
But Jed cleared his throat, and Brian remembered that he was
good for Talker because he was safe, and he wiped Tate s cheeks
one more time with his thumb.
 C  mon, baby. Let s go home.
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72
P a rt IX
E very Heartbeat Screams Your Name
HO ME was so normal, echoing loudly of keys and heavy treads
under yellow lights and yellowing walls. The only thing different was
Brian s hand in the small of Tate s back as they went inside.
 I m going to take off my boots, and shower, Brian grunted
he was pretty sure he had blisters.  Meet on the couch or meet in
your room?
 Meet in the shower, Tate told him, rolling his eyes.  I need to
get that crap out of your hair like now.
 That crap out of my hair? Brian frowned.  You do this shit to
your hair all the time.
Tate shrugged.  Yeah but that s me. It s not you.
 Well, thank G od because if I had to do this every day, I
really would shave my head bald. He d been going to go for the
hyperbole and say something about running his car off a cliff, but
Tate was too fragile for hyperbole. No exaggerating things until
small shit didn t hurt him anymore.
The showerhead was attached to a hose, and after washing
(thank G od his come had glued his underwear to his skin) he
wrapped a towel around his waist while Tate scrubbed the glue and
the henna and the hairspray out.
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It was curiously normal doing that no different than any of the
other times they d shared the bathroom, one of them taking a pee
and the other one in the shower, or Tate grooming while Brian
either/or. It was almost like that other thing the talking, the kiss,
the emotional nakedness hadn t happened at all.
Brian had this thought, and then swung his now-limp strip of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]