Fated (28 page)

The notes fell from the violin like mournful tears. Hart recognized the piece before Isaac had finished the first bar, and he made a small, pained noise. Isaac never opened his eyes, but he swayed with the instrument as if the music was playing him. Or no, that was wrong. It felt as if every note came from inside of Hart himself, and Isaac, with his bow and his fingers, pulled it straight from his body. It hurt in a good way. A necessary hurt, removing invisible ulcers that had abraded his soul and had stopped him from feeling anything new. He felt it now, the thrilling vibrations of music as Isaac reached a high note and held it, then let it fall away, shaking it off like the wind shakes a droplet of water from a leaf. A silence fell, and for an instant, Hart thought this was it, that Isaac would stop playing, and he couldn’t bear it. He almost rose to his feet to demand… he didn’t know what, but then Isaac shivered, and the music began again, a rise and fall that swept Hart off his feet, that loosened the grief inside him and let it pour into his lungs so he could breathe it out, and instead fill his lungs with fresh, grass-scented music-warmed air.

Eventually, when the real silence finally fell, the balance between them had irrevocably shifted.

Isaac stood with the violin in one hand, the bow in the other, waiting, watching him with fear in his eyes and excitement too, as if he knew everything was different. Hart rose to his feet, took the violin and bow from him, and placed them carefully back into their case.

“Come,” he said, taking Isaac’s hand. “Come with me.”

Together they walked out of the room and through the kitchen onto the porch again. He made Isaac sit on the hammock, and he crouched in front of him.
Give me time
, he wanted to say.
Give me time to put this house and this town behind me, and then I will come for you and lay you down and love you.
He had no idea how to say this out loud without sounding like an idiot, and apparently his silence gave Isaac the wrong idea.

“Look. I know when you moved in next door I was still a kid. And I know I pined for you like a love-starved puppy, okay? Trust me, I thought those feelings would fade. And they did for a little while, but they’re back, and I really—” Isaac swallowed, and Hart could see what it cost him to put these thoughts into words. “I really want you. And I think you want me too. I don’t think you see me as just a kid anymore.”

“I don’t.” He knelt down by Isaac’s feet. “But you were so young, and you still are. You had to grow up first, before I could even consider…. You had to—” He faltered, and Isaac smiled down at him.

“Get some experience? I did. College is good for that sort of thing, you know.” A sharp stab of jealousy made his gut ache, and Isaac’s eyes gleamed like he knew it. He gripped the lapels of Hart’s shirt and brought their faces close together. “I got experience, and I fucking loved it. A lot. And now I want it from you. I want you to show me what it’s like from you. Just like I’ve been fantasizing about since I was sixteen years old.”

“Jesus Christ.” Hart rose to his feet, pushed Isaac into the hammock and followed him down. The hammock swung precariously back and forth, and he had to pause to ensure they wouldn’t topple out of it on the other side. Isaac laughed, nerves making the sound of it tight and fraught, but his eyes were sparkling. Hart could feel Isaac’s erection through those shorts pressing against his thigh.

He went into the kiss without hesitation. The kiss went from sweet and wholesome to burning in the flash of a second. Under Hart’s hands Isaac moaned, pushing his heels into the fabric of the hammock, making it swing. Writhing like he couldn’t contain himself, like he was trying to dull and chase that inexorable ache at the same time, he clutched at Hart’s shoulders.

Hart kissed his jaw, his neck, and burrowed his hands under that thin T-shirt until his fingers caught on pale pink nipples.

“Oh God.” Isaac arched up, pressing his erection against Hart’s thigh harder, digging his hands into Hart’s ass to hold him close.

Shifting the T-shirt up higher, Hart fit his fingers in the gaps between Isaac’s ribs, pushing against the skin, rubbing over bone. It made those pale nipples stand taut, and although somewhere in the back of his mind a voice shouted for Hart to come to his senses, he wasn’t thinking any longer. Hart set his mouth to one nipple and sucked it, then he blew cold air over it before he moved to the other. Isaac let out an indecent moan, a noise that shattered Hart to pieces. He felt Isaac’s grip ease, and then a pair of hands was shoved unceremoniously into his jeans. The noise he made wasn’t particularly dignified either, but Isaac didn’t seem to care. His mouth hung open, his eyes squeezed shut, and when Hart lifted his head to lick at Isaac’s lips, a pair of fingers squeezed at the flesh of his backside.

Chuckling, he broke their kiss. “Ease off, Isaac, before you tear my skin to shreds.”

Isaac’s eyes flew open, but before he could apologize, Hart kissed the mortification away. Isaac was shaking head to toe, and for the first time since they started, Hart wondered if he shouldn’t put a stop to this. The light in Isaac’s eyes was too bright in this shadowed corner of the porch, too feverish, too desperate. On his next breath, Hart inhaled the scent of broken marigolds, carrying desire on their lost pollen.

“Isaac—”

“Oh.” Isaac clung to him tighter, his back arching underneath Hart’s chest. “Oh, Hart. Oh my Hart, I’m dying.”

For a frightful instant, Hart thought Isaac meant it. But of course not. Isaac was just an overwhelmed boy who hardly knew his own body, never mind someone else’s.

“You’re fine,” Hart shushed, freeing a hand from underneath Isaac’s shoulder and dragging it through Isaac’s soft curls. “You’re fine, angel. You’re here with me. You’re safe.” Hart pressed kisses to Isaac’s temple, trying to calm the moment, but the fever didn’t leave Isaac’s eyes. The grip on Hart’s ass didn’t ease either, so he gave in and bore down on Isaac, offering friction until Isaac climaxed in Hart’s arms, crying for more.

“Oh God.” He didn’t even give himself time to enjoy the aftershocks but hid his face in Hart’s shoulder. “God, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I just shot a load in my shorts like a kid on a hair trigger.”

Hart tried not to laugh, but maybe it came through anyway. “Did it feel good?” He lifted up a little so he could read Isaac’s face.

“Of course it did,” Isaac said, growing pink to the roots of his hair.

“Then it’s all good, isn’t it?”

Isaac’s mouth looked red and inviting, so he brushed a kiss over the heat of it. “Go get changed out of those pants, and come back.” He reached to tug Isaac’s T-shirt back into place, when a black mark caught his eye. “What the fuck?” He yanked the T-shirt back up and the waist of the shorts down.

“Oh man,” Isaac groaned, clapping a hand over his hip.

“Let me see that.” For a frightful moment, Hart had thought of another sort of mark, but this was a tattoo, one he had no idea existed. “Isaac,” he insisted when Isaac didn’t move his hand. The tattoo, small enough to fit under Isaac’s palm, revealed itself when Isaac let Hart peel his hand away.

“Fine. Jesus, it’s not like this could get any more embarrassing.”

Hart stroked the little fins, fading from black to gray like they rippled through water. The tail elegantly flipped as if on a turn, giving the small Black Moor Goldfish the impression of moving over Isaac’s skin.

“He’s gorgeous,” Hart murmured, rubbing his thumb back and forth over Isaac’s tattoo. The skin underneath his finger pebbled in goose bumps. He lifted his eyes to Isaac’s. “When did you get this?”

Isaac was beet red by now. “As soon as I turned eighteen.”

It would’ve been hard to misunderstand the meaning of this, so he didn’t pretend. He just stared at Isaac until the poor guy squirmed underneath him. “God, stop looking. If I get any more embarrassed, I’ll combust.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he croaked, his vocal cords apparently
being pushed out of the way by his thumping heart. “I—I really like it.”

Reluctantly Isaac smiled and rolled his eyes. “This fish fetish of yours goes a lot further than I thought.”

“I do
not
have a fish fetish.” He gave Isaac a little shove. “And I’m not the one with a goldfish on my hip.”

“You don’t think….” Isaac lowered his gaze and plucked at his T-shirt until Hart let him hide the tattoo. Hart put his hand over it, though, imagining it felt hotter than the rest of Isaac’s body.

“Don’t I think what?”

“That it’s ridiculous?”

“Not at all. Unless you regret it.”

“No.” Isaac was quiet but firm. “No, I love it. It means a lot to me.”

“Then I’m glad you have it. Now go get out of those shorts, or you will regret that.”

“What about you?” Isaac hitched up on one elbow. The hammock swung back and forth again, and Isaac tugged on Hart’s hair, then pulled him in for another kiss. His tongue, sure and soft as it pushed into Hart’s mouth, flared white sparks of arousal through Hart’s body.

“Later,” he gasped, breaking the kiss to whisper in Isaac’s ear. “Later, when I can lay you down in my bed and do it right.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Isaac hid his face against Hart’s neck, and then lifted it, defiant, bright-eyed, and brave. “I want it, so much.”

“Isaac….” He nearly combusted on the spot, brain firing hot impulses down every synapse of his nervous system. When he buried his face into Isaac’s hair, it smelled fresh and familiar. He wanted to run his fingers through it, he wanted to push him down and spread his legs, and God. Their timing was the worst. Isaac was coming for Hart with all he had while Hart needed time to work things through, and yet his insides contracted with want. “I don’t even have any condoms.”

“I do. I brought condoms and… stuff.”

Hart guffawed under his breath. “You brought condoms and
stuff
to a funeral?”

“Oh.” Isaac’s eyes widened, and he dropped his forehead to Hart’s sternum. “Oh man, I am sorry. That’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“No, it really isn’t. I’m… flattered. And it doesn’t have to be that way, you know. We can…. It can be the other way around. I don’t expect—”

“Oh, I know. But don’t you sometimes just
want
it? Don’t you sometimes want to be turned over and held down and fucked so hard you can’t see straight?”

“
God
.” He let his head fall back, his eyes rolling up, and Isaac laughed breathlessly, emboldened by the effect he was having. Sinuously Isaac moved over him, pressing his groin against Hart’s, mouthing along the taut tendon of his neck.

“You do, don’t you? And I’ll do that to you. I’ll bend you over the edge of your couch and fuck you, but I want it from you first. I want your hand on the back of my neck as you slide into m—”

“Stop talking.” Hart pressed his mouth to Isaac’s to make sure he did. “You’re driving me crazy.” They kissed until impatience flickered in Isaac’s eyes, and Hart was sure he’d demand
now
, but instead Isaac wobbled out of the hammock and sprinted up the stairs.

For a few minutes, Hart kept swaying to and fro, hands behind his head, watching as the sunlight dappled through the gently quivering leaves. An indefinable urgency tugged at his limbs, telling him he should get up and work on this case, find out what really caused those deaths, but this day was one just for him, for Isaac. The afternoon warmth freed the scent of lavender and thyme that had grown untamed in his mother’s untended herb garden, making it rise up to the porch, and a languid laziness chased the urgency away.

Isaac returned showered and freshly clothed, bearing cool glasses of water. Drinking deeply first, Hart handed his glass back and then opened his arms for Isaac to settle into. They didn’t speak for a long time, just let themselves sink into a pleasurable languor brought on by long, sweet kisses. Nothing penetrated their sanctum while the sun traced its slow arc over their heads. Even the sound of crickets dulled to a faint background noise. He let his hands roam over Isaac’s firm body, touching every bump of his spine and the spaces in between. After a while, when the sun reached the west and made a last, valiant effort to cast its rays over Shadow Mountain, Isaac grew brave and pushed his hand down the front of Hart’s jeans. He let Isaac work him but held him off before he could reach the point of no return. He didn’t feel like coming; he just wanted this peaceful thing between them for now. Eventually it was Isaac who ended the kissing, his eyes drooping again.

“Hart?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to fall asleep.”

“It’s all right. I’ve got nowhere to be. Sleep.” Isaac settled into the crook of his arm, head resting over his heart.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Isaac mumbled.

“I have some lose ends to tie up, utility bills to pay and close down, that sort of thing.”

“Can I stick around?”

Hart pressed his smile into Isaac’s hair. “Sure.” He thought Isaac had drifted off, until he softly spoke again.

“Do you mind that this happened today of all days?”

“No. Dad never was one to deny himself the pleasures of life. He’d have congratulated me if he could’ve known.”

Isaac laughed, a low, sleepy sound. His eyes were already closed, and the mumbled, “Good,” could hardly be heard at all.