Play It Again, Charlie (40 page)

“I could if you made me.”

Charlie whipped his head to the side and smacked a hand up at the ceiling until he hit the light and turned it on. Will was looking at him, wincing slightly. His lips were parted, his head to one side.

“You shouldn't offer things like that,” Charlie got out. There was a pounding in his lap again; Will had to know that too. His eyes drifted down before coming back to Charlie's face. Someone wearing glitter shouldn't be able to look that serious.

“Why not? You'd never really hurt me, would you, Charlie? That is, not unless I asked you to.” Will might have seemed reasonable, but his chest was heaving, and his hands moved restlessly, skimming over his lap, the erection straining against his jeans. “You liked it, didn't you?”

He looked incredible, his eyes taunting, his mouth soft and uncertain. Charlie knew he was being played, had to be— Will was too bright to miss the want in his expression— but he felt the pull just the same.

“You know I did.” He wondered if Will had somehow spotted this in him at the beginning and turned away at the trace of humiliation that thought left in its wake. He shoved the key in the ignition without turning it. “We should get going.”

“Are you angry?” Will moved again, and Charlie frowned at his reflection in the rearview mirror, then tossed his head. “Because it was public?”

“I'm not angry.” He met Will's eyes. It felt a lot like anger, but if it was, it was with himself. Charlie was the one with the problem. “No.” Though public was just as dangerous as trusting someone else that much. “How do you know I won't hurt you?”

“Seriously?” Will exhaled in apparent disbelief, then cleared his throat. “
You
are seriously asking me that?” He straightened. “You yelled at me for not wearing shoes outside!” Charlie ignored that because he didn't yell. He took care to never yell unless he had to.

But he froze when Will moved, running two fingers across the back of one of his hands before taking them away.

“Charlie, it's okay. Really,” he whispered. “Look, I won't touch you until we get back.” Charlie looked up. “Should I make that Scout hand symbol thing? Make you feel more at home?”

“Back?” Charlie eased his hands down the steering wheel, then inhaled. “So I'm taking you to— ”

“Your apartment, yes.” Will nodded enthusiastically, then settled his hands into his lap, as though it was just that easy. “With my hands to myself.” He lowered his voice again, managing to seem regretful. Maybe he was; he was still hard. “If that's what you want right now.”

The promise only made it worse, ratcheted up the tension between them. Will had meant it to be soothing, Charlie knew that, and the very fact that Will thought he needed coaxing burned through him.

“Really?” His tone was strangely cool. Will shivered. His breathing was very loud in the space between them, a space suddenly not big enough. “Can you do that?” He didn't know his own voice anymore, or what he exactly he was asking of Will. The last thing he wanted was to push Will away, but Will couldn't push at him like this, either. “
Can
you wait?”

He thought, for a second, that Will was wrong, that Charlie
could
hurt him. Something wounded flickered through Will's eyes at Charlie's questions, but then he was angling his head to the side and wetting his bottom lip.

“Are you asking me to? I guess you're going to have to make it clear, Charlie, because I just don't understand what you want.” This time he knew Will's sad sigh was fake. He narrowed his eyes. It drew another shiver from Will, a deliberate wriggle against his seat, and Charlie had to fight to look away from the temptation.

“Yes. I'm asking you to.” He needed time to think. To make sure Will knew what he was doing. He'd say to make sure
he
wanted it, but it was shocking how quickly he had gone along with everything Will had asked for and how easy it was to wish he was the type to demand more.

“You're honestly going to make me?” Will's voice broke. Charlie stared back at him, and after a moment Will licked his lip again. “Of course you will. You're Charlie.” Will was so remarkable it was astounding that no one else had ever tried to hold onto him. Maybe they had and Charlie was stupid for trying. Will made his crazy statement with a straight face then very carefully tested the terms. “And if I don't?”

“Will.” Charlie didn't raise his voice; he never raised his voice unless the situation called for it. Will made a noise, then sat back.

“Yes, Charlie,” he breathed out, then he turned to the window. He mumbled something to himself, and Charlie winced. He bit back the urge to apologize. Apologies never worked with Will.

Charlie watched, waited, but for a full minute Will didn't move his hands, didn't move at all. Charlie faced forward and turned the key in the ignition then flipped on his headlights. He had to get his seat belt on too, zip his fly back up, and he looked over as he did that, making sure before he turned off the overhead light.

“The things you learn about people,” Will remarked breezily, not looking at him. “I had no idea you were so kinky, Charlie.”

“Me?” Charlie shot Will a look that Will probably couldn't see. He waited, letting his heart rate go down until Will turned back to him and flashed him a smile he couldn't read. Will was probably joking, something Charlie would have gotten faster if it hadn't been so worried.

“Making me wait like this,” Will whined.

“Will?”

“Oh, I'm fine.” Will was still using the light tone. His voice was strained, with a familiar huskiness to it. “I can take it. You just let me know.”

Charlie counted out his breaths, in and then out, for another thirty seconds, then slowly started to reverse the car. The silence seemed strange, heavy, except for Will's quick breathing. He wanted Will to talk, wanted to hear his voice. He never wanted Will to be quiet.

He waited until they were at the stop sign at the edge of the parking lot. He had to say something. “Will?” Will's head came up eagerly. “Do you ever smoke?”

“Do I... ?” Will half turned to him again. “No.” He seemed confused. Charlie let his shoulders fall back. “Though once I tried to that sexy flick thing Gregory Peck did in
Duel in the Sun
. Do you?”

Charlie shook his head, though he'd never seen that movie, and they reached a streetlight and had to wait to get back on the freeway.

“Why?” Will glowed red, then green.

“I just... .” Charlie tried to shrug to indicate that he had just wanted to know. Will seemed to understand general curiosity, even seemed pleased by it.

“Wanted to know?” he finished. “Yeah, I get that, Charlie, wanting to know.” Charlie wanted to look at him, but couldn't take his eyes off the road now that they were moving again. Will's tone was understanding yet reproachful. “I get a lot of things, in fact.”

“Will.” Charlie had another question. Will's hands came up, then went back to his lap to press into his erection, and Charlie realized why Will's voice had been strained and then how Will must have interpreted his words. His lips parted, but it wasn't shock that made him wet them. Will was over there aching but not doing anything about it because Charlie had asked him not to.

“What exactly is a Red-Headed Slut?” he asked quickly for something, anything to say, and breathed
slightly
easier when Will choked out a laugh.

“Maybe I'll buy you one if we go back,” he offered a moment later, leaning back in his seat and studying Charlie.

Charlie didn't ask anything else after that. No way could he attempt to think that much and drive and think of Will hard all at the same time. He tried not to be terrified when Will, for once, didn't volunteer anything.

Will stayed silent until they got back to his apartment. He followed Charlie through his door and settled on the couch while Charlie took off his shoes and his belt. Will's shoes ended up on the floor as well, though he only tucked his legs up on the couch, his body curled against one arm and his chin on top of his fist as he watched Charlie move around.

Once his laptop was away and the TV was on, there wasn't much else for Charlie to do but sit down too. He'd only turned on the TV for noise, and he flipped channels until he found some sort of documentary. He didn't want to imagine what Will was thinking about going from a club to Charlie's couch and a history special.

Will let out a breath, hinting at impatience, and Charlie tried to covertly watch him. He had no idea what this meant or even how far he could push this. When he sat down at the other end of the couch, Will turned his attention to the TV, and he was still staring at it, with one hand picking at his jeans.

His urgency from the car seemed to have vanished, and Charlie had no one to blame for that but himself. He hid a frown and rubbed a palm over his knee when he imagined he could still feel the echo of that soft slap to Will's ass.

It wasn't tense between them, not exactly, but he didn't like Will this quiet.

If it had been Mark, he would have been apologizing already, and Charlie had to clench his jaw to keep the words back. Will wasn't Mark, and Charlie felt himself flushing as he thought about how glad he was that Will wasn't Mark, that if he asked, Will would probably tell him exactly what he wanted, if Charlie could stand to hear it.

“Will,” Charlie began, then froze when Will took that as permission to move again and immediately sprawled over his lap.

“I said I could do slow for you, Charlie,” he murmured once he was settled, as though he wasn't shifting against Charlie to remind him of just how long he'd been waiting.

Charlie was already leaning back to give Will room before his mind could catch up. Will got closer, putting hands on Charlie's shoulders and coming forward until their mouths were just touching. Then he held still again, trembling faintly as he waited.

Charlie nodded, getting it, and put his hand to the back of Will's head to draw him in. Will only spoke when the kiss was over, sighing into Charlie's skin.

“Charlie?” His eyes were wide open, but when Charlie's hands cupped his ass to bring him closer, they closed. “Did I do good?”

There was too much in Charlie's chest for any words to come out. He moved instead, twisting to push Will onto his back onto the couch and then sliding over him. It was rough, needlessly urgent, but Will seemed to take that for an answer. He practically purred when Charlie pressed his hips to the cushions and licked down to his navel.

“I knew it. Oh fuck, Daddy, thank you.”

Charlie still couldn't manage words, but Will still didn't seem mind. Everything after that was the sound of him pleading for Charlie's mouth and increasingly needy moans until Charlie let him come.

Will had stayed the night again, following Charlie into the bedroom with a sated, shy look on his face and then slipping under the blankets on one side of the bed. Charlie had almost been passed out from exhaustion when Will had scooted over to lie against his back.

"It's warmer,"
Will had excused it, though Charlie had been considering tossing aside a blanket, it was so hot. But he was glad he hadn't said anything when he'd woken up to the beeping of his alarm and the steady heat of Will's breath on the back of his neck.

Will had stirred before Charlie could say good morning, and had gotten up to go back upstairs to shower and brush his teeth for an early appointment. His strange shyness had gone, but Charlie hadn't had a chance to really talk to him about it, not that he knew what to say.

When he finally got a chance to talk to Will, he hadn't wanted to ruin the mood by mentioning anything that might upset him. He'd mentioned a film festival instead and was still somewhat stunned by how that had turned into inviting Will to a movie and how quickly Will had accepted the offer. Even now, hours later, he couldn't quite believe it was real, even with an excited Will next to him.

“Why are you frowning?” Will asked abruptly. “I know the ending makes no sense. But the whole movie makes no sense. That isn't the point, Charlie. The point is Tippi.”

“What?” Charlie forgot about last night and focused back on Will, startled by the brush of Will's hand against his as they walked and at whatever Will had just said.

Charlie had no idea what about the movie had made Will so happy, but Will's face was outshining streetlights. He barely seemed to notice when they crossed the street, so Charlie didn't feel stupid for moving around him earlier to keep himself between Will and the traffic.

He'd already gotten a look from Will when he'd put on a coat. The night was pretty mild. He wouldn't have grabbed the coat at all except that despite how casual Charlie had tried to seem on the phone, Will had showed up in a crisp, white, long-sleeved button-down, as if this was a date after all. So Charlie had hurried back to grab the suit jacket to put over his T-shirt.

A date seemed almost ludicrous considering that Will had slept next to him last night, but that was what it felt like in the odd moments when he'd look at Will and go silent, or when Will stopped gushing about film long enough to give him considering looks. Charlie knew those looks: they usually meant he was about to be embarrassed.

For now, however, Will seemed content with sharing his love of Tippi Hedren.

“Tippi?” Charlie thought back to the movie they'd just seen. Will had sprung to mind when he'd seen the ad for the Hitchcock festival. Calling Will to ask if he'd like to see a movie had been easier than talking about anything else, and apparently the idea of seeing Hitchcock on the big screen had been enough to make Will say yes before Charlie could finish the question.

“I mean, I
think
the point was supposed to be the birds, or Rod being manly, but really it's Tippi versus lonely Suzanne Pleshette and then
maybe
those crows at the school.” Their hands brushed again as Will swung his down and then back up in some birdlike gesture. Will didn't seem to notice that any more than he noticed Charlie studying him.

Probably because potentially holding hands as they walked toward the train station wasn't a big deal to Will. Charlie exhaled. The sigh made Will glance over at him. Charlie was learning that that particular glance meant Will was about to ask about his hip, so he lifted his head.