Someday, page 7
“I love you,” Dalton whispered. “I’ve always loved you.” And his eyes! They were filled with a maelstrom of emotions.
“But you’re not gay…. How can we have anything if you don’t want me the way I want you?”
“Like this?” Dalton asked, his voice still barely above a murmur, and he took Lucas’s hand and placed it on his…
God. Dalton was hard! But how?
“I don’t understand….”
“I went to get ice….” Dalton’s voice hitched. “For….”
“Ice?” Lucas asked, confused. What the hell did ice have to do with anything?
Dalton nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And I saw Etienne’s car. And I just froze. I realized that you must be here with him. Why else would his car be here? I started… fuck. I started shaking. I just suddenly saw the two of you naked together.”
Just like I saw you and Rebecca.
“I got the goddamned ice and went back to the room and she was already naked. And all I could think of was you. Here I had her, naked and ready for me at last—”
At last?
“—and all I could think of was you. I looked at her smiling, trying to look sexy for me—and I saw your face. I looked at her breasts… and they… they weren’t right. They weren’t doing anything for me. All I could think of was your pretty bare chest….”
Lucas’s eyes widened. What? “My pretty chest?”
Dalton’s eyes filled with desire. “So flat, with just the smallest amount of definition. So smooth. Not one hair….”
Dalton had looked at his chest?
“Your sexy little nipples. And right then I knew… knew I didn’t want her. I wanted you.”
“Me?”
“But there she was. What was I supposed to do? She was motioning me over to the bed, and I saw all she had to offer. A normal life. Marriage. Kids. Everything I wanted.”
“And we can’t get married,” Lucas said, his eyes filling with tears. “Can’t have kids.”
“But then she did it, Lucas. Made it impossible. She actually said that she wanted to suck my cock, and then… all I could think of was you. That night.”
“That night?” Lucas asked. What night?
But then he knew. Or thought he did. “When I asked if I could be the first to do that to you?”
Dalton nodded.
“But all you could promise was that you wouldn’t let another guy do it first.”
Dalton shook his head. “No. I realized I couldn’t have my first time be with anyone but you. It had to be you. It has always had to be you. I don’t know how I couldn’t have known. But I love you, Lucas, and I want you. Please say yes.”
Lucas let out a laugh. Dalton had to ask? “Yes,” he said.
Dalton looked at him for a moment. Surprised? How could he be surprised? And then they were kissing again.
They didn’t stop this time.
Dalton lay down on the bed next to him, and they kissed and touched and held each other. Lucas’s face still hurt, but he didn’t care. He wanted this. Needed it. It would have taken a lot more pain for him to consider stopping.
He could touch Dalton’s chest now, and God, had he ever imagined anything like this? Dalton’s chest was so different from his own. Different than Etienne’s. Bigger. Harder. And hairy. Not overly so, but that hair was oh so soft and spread out everywhere. He wanted to feel it against his face, and when he had the chance, he lowered his head and lightly rubbed his cheek against it. So sexy. So, so sexy.
But then Dalton was rolling him over on his back and kissing, kissing, kissing downward. He kept traveling down, down Lucas’s body, and was there any way Dalton couldn’t see his straining erection?
“Oh, Lucas,” Dalton said with a heady growl. “My tiger. At last.”
At last?
Dalton unsnapped Lucas’s trousers and had them unzipped before he realized what was happening. A few quick yanks later and his pants were open and his erection springing out, and then… oh God, then he was in Dalton’s mouth!
Dalton took him deep, and Lucas arched up off the bed and almost came in that instant. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t. Dalton was humming, causing the most amazing vibration through his cock, and he had to bite down on the insides of his cheek to stop himself from finishing too soon. It worked. The bite set off the pain in his jaw, and his ass dropped back to the bed. Now Dalton was bobbing up and down on his cock, and Lucas reached down and clutched at Dalton’s shaggy hair and let out a sob. He couldn’t believe how it felt. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Certainly not his hand. Not the hundreds of ways he’d masturbated in his life. Nothing came close.
And just as he thought he could stop it no longer, he was going to cum, Dalton released him and began to gently suck his balls. Oh, oh, oh! Exquisite! Torture! Exquisite, wonderful torture!
“P-please, Dalton. P-please stop. I’m going to cum!”
But instead of stopping, Dalton let out a cry and took Lucas’s cock back into his hot, wet mouth, and it was over. Lucas thought he would die from the pleasure of it. A shock traveled through his entire body, and he unleashed a lifetime of need into Dalton’s mouth, his semen jetting out of him and into the love of his life. Dalton swallowed greedily, moaning almost as loudly as Lucas cried.
He thought he would black out. Maybe he did? For then Dalton was on top of him and lightly kissing him and using tongue to ask for permission for more. Lucas opened his mouth, accepted Dalton in, tasted himself, and felt his cock hardening again (if it had ever really gone soft). They kissed for a long moment, but that taste reminded him of what he really wanted. He pushed at Dalton’s chest and somehow managed to get him to roll off, and then he just kept rolling until he was on top. Dalton had no shirt to unbutton—and did Rebecca still have it? he wondered for less than a second—and at last he could worship that chest. Touch it and kiss it, make love to it, find Dalton’s nipples and suck on them and delight in feeling them harden in his mouth and how soft that hair was on his tongue.
Now it was his turn to travel down, down, down that lightly furry belly to the place the skin disappeared into Dalton’s pants. The bulge in those trousers looked huge. Much bigger than he remembered. Could the fabric make it look that big?
Time to find out.
He had Dalton’s pants undone just as fast as Dalton had had his, and suddenly there it was (at last!): Dalton’s erection.
It was bigger. Lucas was sure of it.
But Dalton had been thirteen then. He was eighteen now.
It was beautiful.
Thick, so thick Lucas could barely get his hand around it. And long. Longer than Lucas’s own modest six inches. It was surrounded by a soft forest of hair that looked almost sculpted—a soft pillow for Dalton’s cock to rest upon. It throbbed in Lucas’s hand, and a big crystalline drop formed at the head.
Lucas had to have it.
He licked it off, and his tongue tingled and delighted at the taste while Dalton cried out. Then he was taking it in his mouth, and God, if being sucked was pleasure, this was even better.
It was so alive!
The feel of the skin and the taste and the musky scent. It filled his mouth, and his sore jaw objected, and his sore jaw be damned. He took as much into his mouth as he could before gagging and retreating a bit and experimenting until, yes, he could take it deep, and he began to suck in earnest. He let his tongue move and massage the underside and was rewarded with more fluid, and he sucked more. Now Dalton’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Dalton was crying, telling Lucas how much he loved him, and it was music.
Lucas found he couldn’t stop. He thrust his own erection against Dalton’s leg. Couldn’t stop bobbing and sucking and seeing how deep he could go. He played with Dalton’s big balls, wanted to taste them too—like Dalton had done—but he just couldn’t stop. He wanted Dalton. He wanted all of Dalton.
“Oh! Oh, baby. I… I’m going to…!”
Yes, yes, yes!
Please!
And Dalton poured into Lucas’s mouth, thick jet after jet after jet, and any fear that he’d ever had that he wouldn’t like it was cast away in less than an instant. It was thick and sweet, so sweet, with only the slightest tang. He swallowed and swallowed and swallowed again, and then before he could stop himself, he was riding another orgasm, shooting all over Dalton’s pants leg.
Oh, well. Couldn’t be helped now.
He collapsed onto Dalton, cock slipping from his mouth, and rested his sore face against Dalton’s hitching belly, felt the still-hard erection against his neck and throat.
He’d done it.
He had sucked Dalton’s cock.
It was wonderful.
Then he told Dalton he loved him and slipped instantly off to sleep.
9
BEFORE THE night was over, Dalton fucked him. But, God, that just didn’t seem like the right word. Fuck. Such a crude word for something so exquisite. Not intercourse—that was even sillier and sounded so heterosexual. Like it was describing something you only did so you could have babies. And while he was determined that he would marry Dalton one way or another, even if they had to wait until they were ninety-nine and a hundred years old, it was going to happen. But babies? That was never going to happen. At least not that way.
Dalton offered himself first, telling Lucas that he could do “it” to him first, but they both knew the way it would be between them. Who knew what might happen someday down the line? But that night and through the months to come, it was Dalton inside him.
Oh God, oh God, oh God…. Dalton inside him. Indescribable. That’s what he told Sam.
He hadn’t known what it would be like, not a clue really. Only that it had to hurt. Had to hurt a lot. But he still wanted it—that was what it should be, Dalton over him and in him at the same time. Dalton. His man. Dalton needed to take him, make him his own.
And it had hurt. Oh yes. He thought Dalton was going to tear him to pieces. Neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. The angle was all awkward, and they didn’t know just where to put their legs so that Dalton could get inside him. There was lots of missing and slipping and… Oh, God, it hurts hurts hurts! Hurts so bad (which of course he couldn’t tell Dalton, or he might stop, and Lucas didn’t want him to stop—stopping would be worse)… but finally, magically, everything starting working just as it was supposed to do, and the stretching and pain turned into the most unimaginable pleasure he’d ever dreamed possible.
“…so tight oh my God you’re so tight oh God so good oh baby so good…”
“…so big oh God God God so big and oh so good and oh Dalton I’m yours…”
Finally.
And they were exploding and melding and becoming one.
Finally.
The first morning, waking in each other’s arms in that no-tell motel, Lucas asked again for the first time since they were kids.
“Marry me, Dalton.”
Dalton sighed, rolled over, and threw a leg on top of Lucas. “Not that again! Lucas, we can’t get married. We’re never going to be able to get married.”
“I heard about this church,” Lucas said. “They’ve got one in Kansas City. It’s called MCC. It’s a gay church. And they do these things called Holy Unions. They’re not legal of course, but—”
“Then why bother?” Dalton interrupted. “It won’t mean anything, Lucas!”
“But what does that matter? It’s the ceremony, isn’t it? The commitment?”
Dalton looked at him. Kissed him on the nose. “Baby. I don’t need any ceremony except to be in your arms. And I’m sorry, I’m not doing any ‘Holy Union.’ Unless it’s legal, I’m not doing it. And that’s never going to happen. Not in our lifetime.”
It hurt, made Lucas’s heart hurt. But then Dalton was kissing him and making love to him, and he forgot all about marriage and Holy Unions.
For a while.
They learned a lot about each other’s bodies in those months of summer before Dalton had to go away to college.
And way too soon, those days of summer were ending.
10
“ARE YOU sure about this?” Lucas asked for what felt like the millionth time. It all seemed too impossible. Dalton’s parents? Well, they were nothing like his mother, that was for sure. And Lucas knew—what they did to him, the way they raised him, the pure pressure of being Dalton Churchill—they were why it had taken Dalton so long to come out. Or was about to.
“I’m sure,” Dalton said and kissed him, right there on the doorstep in front of Dalton’s home.
Heart in his throat, Lucas followed Dalton into his house. His very big house. Dalton came from money, and the house was in the nicest neighborhood of Terra’s Gate.
It wasn’t the first time Lucas had been in Dalton’s house, of course. He’d known him his whole life—or at least most of it. The house wasn’t the same one he’d lived in back in those shoestring days. Dalton’s father had climbed the corporate ladder pretty quickly and had considered moving to Kansas City. Thankfully Dalton’s mother prevailed, saying that the quiet of a small town—even a college town—was a better place to raise Dalton. Lucas wasn’t sure what he would have done if Dalton had moved away.
The smell of food filled the house. They were having dinner with Dalton’s parents, and Lucas was so nervous he wasn’t sure how he would eat.
Dalton was coming out to his family tonight.
More—he was telling them that they were lovers.
Lucas could hardly believe it. It was so exciting. Maybe even almost as good as marriage!
But Lucas couldn’t get rid of the feeling that this was a very bad idea.
They already were pretty unhappy with their son for changing his college plans at the last minute. He was all set to go to the University of Missouri in Rolla—a science and technology school. Perfect for Dalton, who had always been one for taking things apart and putting them back together (starting with the tying of shoes). But then he had elected to stay in Terra’s Gate instead and go to Wagner University. His parents had acknowledged it was a good school, so they hadn’t fought it too much. They just couldn’t understand why he’d chosen to stay.
The reason, of course, was Lucas.
“I can’t bear to be away from you,” Dalton had said. Even though Lucas did to try to convince him that the other school might be better for him, his mind was made up. Of course Lucas hadn’t had his heart in it. Because he knew that he couldn’t bear to be away from Dalton. Which made him feel guilty. But he couldn’t bear the idea of Dalton leaving either.
“Mom?” Dalton called out. “We’re here.”
The one source of relief was that Dalton’s father wasn’t home yet. His Lexus wasn’t in the driveway.
“Hello, boys.”
They turned as one, and there she was. Mrs. Denise Churchill. Looking like she was dressed for a business dinner in a white blouse buttoned high and a black skirt and sensible heels. She was a handsome woman—no, beautiful—with brown hair cupped around her head and face like a bonnet. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her green eyes. She was studying them both, and Lucas couldn’t help feeling that she was somehow looking inside his head.
“Hello, Mrs. Churchill,” Lucas said.
“Lucas.” She nodded, then turned to her son. “Do I get a kiss, Dalton?”
“Sure, Mom.” Dalton went to her, and she put her arms around his neck, and he gave her a peck on the cheek.
“I hope you boys are hungry. I’ve made a big beef roast with all the fixings: salad, mashed potatoes, rolls—they’re not as good as what my mother made, but they’re good. Do you like carrots, Lucas? I cooked them with the roast.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
She raised a brow high enough that it disappeared under her bangs. “Ma’am? Mrs. Churchill? Why so formal tonight? What happened to Mrs. C? You’re making me nervous.” She gave her son a steady gaze, then turned. “I’ve made iced tea. Would you boys like some?”
They followed her out of the living room and into the kitchen. It was a big kitchen, easily twice the size of Lucas’s, with a big island in the middle with both electric and gas burners, and a grill. The cabinets were all glass faced, and Lucas knew from experience that all you had to do was touch them and gentle lights came on inside for late-night visits. The floors were heated as well.
“Will you pour, son?” asked Mrs. C.
The pitcher was on the island, along with glasses and lemon slices. Dalton poured and gave the first glass to Lucas—even though he shook his head no, you don’t have to do that—and the second to his mother before taking the third for himself. He pulled Lucas to the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room and sat them down together.
Again Dalton’s mother studied Lucas. “I made German chocolate cake for dessert. I wish it could have been pie, but they’re not my strong point. Not from scratch, that is.”
“I love German chocolate cake,” Lucas said.
She smiled. “I know. Dalton told me. He said you make one to die for, yourself. I wanted to make sure we had something you enjoyed. I hope it is as good as yours.”
But despite her easy and friendly banter, Lucas’s gut clenched. For some reason he wasn’t feeling good about this. He hadn’t before. He wasn’t now.
Mrs. C took a sip of her tea, then placed it on the counter. “Your father should be here soon. I think I’ll fix the mashed potatoes. Would you get the pot, Dalton? The strainer is in the sink. That’s a good boy.”
Dalton got up, rolled his eyes at Lucas, and went to the stove. He snagged some oven mitts that matched the kitchen colors beautifully and grabbed the big steaming pot. Then he poured it into the sink.
“Does your mother make mashed potatoes from scratch, Lucas?” she asked, smiling back at him with a big Vanna White smile. She took a hand mixer from a drawer and plugged it in. “Or does she use the instant boxed stuff?”
Geez. This was just weird. While she had never been mean to him, not really, she had never spared him any love either. But she’d never been like this.
“It depends,” he answered. “If we’re in a rush, she uses the boxed stuff. But when it counts, she makes them from scratch. Sometimes she adds cheese and chives.”
“But you’re not gay…. How can we have anything if you don’t want me the way I want you?”
“Like this?” Dalton asked, his voice still barely above a murmur, and he took Lucas’s hand and placed it on his…
God. Dalton was hard! But how?
“I don’t understand….”
“I went to get ice….” Dalton’s voice hitched. “For….”
“Ice?” Lucas asked, confused. What the hell did ice have to do with anything?
Dalton nodded. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And I saw Etienne’s car. And I just froze. I realized that you must be here with him. Why else would his car be here? I started… fuck. I started shaking. I just suddenly saw the two of you naked together.”
Just like I saw you and Rebecca.
“I got the goddamned ice and went back to the room and she was already naked. And all I could think of was you. Here I had her, naked and ready for me at last—”
At last?
“—and all I could think of was you. I looked at her smiling, trying to look sexy for me—and I saw your face. I looked at her breasts… and they… they weren’t right. They weren’t doing anything for me. All I could think of was your pretty bare chest….”
Lucas’s eyes widened. What? “My pretty chest?”
Dalton’s eyes filled with desire. “So flat, with just the smallest amount of definition. So smooth. Not one hair….”
Dalton had looked at his chest?
“Your sexy little nipples. And right then I knew… knew I didn’t want her. I wanted you.”
“Me?”
“But there she was. What was I supposed to do? She was motioning me over to the bed, and I saw all she had to offer. A normal life. Marriage. Kids. Everything I wanted.”
“And we can’t get married,” Lucas said, his eyes filling with tears. “Can’t have kids.”
“But then she did it, Lucas. Made it impossible. She actually said that she wanted to suck my cock, and then… all I could think of was you. That night.”
“That night?” Lucas asked. What night?
But then he knew. Or thought he did. “When I asked if I could be the first to do that to you?”
Dalton nodded.
“But all you could promise was that you wouldn’t let another guy do it first.”
Dalton shook his head. “No. I realized I couldn’t have my first time be with anyone but you. It had to be you. It has always had to be you. I don’t know how I couldn’t have known. But I love you, Lucas, and I want you. Please say yes.”
Lucas let out a laugh. Dalton had to ask? “Yes,” he said.
Dalton looked at him for a moment. Surprised? How could he be surprised? And then they were kissing again.
They didn’t stop this time.
Dalton lay down on the bed next to him, and they kissed and touched and held each other. Lucas’s face still hurt, but he didn’t care. He wanted this. Needed it. It would have taken a lot more pain for him to consider stopping.
He could touch Dalton’s chest now, and God, had he ever imagined anything like this? Dalton’s chest was so different from his own. Different than Etienne’s. Bigger. Harder. And hairy. Not overly so, but that hair was oh so soft and spread out everywhere. He wanted to feel it against his face, and when he had the chance, he lowered his head and lightly rubbed his cheek against it. So sexy. So, so sexy.
But then Dalton was rolling him over on his back and kissing, kissing, kissing downward. He kept traveling down, down Lucas’s body, and was there any way Dalton couldn’t see his straining erection?
“Oh, Lucas,” Dalton said with a heady growl. “My tiger. At last.”
At last?
Dalton unsnapped Lucas’s trousers and had them unzipped before he realized what was happening. A few quick yanks later and his pants were open and his erection springing out, and then… oh God, then he was in Dalton’s mouth!
Dalton took him deep, and Lucas arched up off the bed and almost came in that instant. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t. Dalton was humming, causing the most amazing vibration through his cock, and he had to bite down on the insides of his cheek to stop himself from finishing too soon. It worked. The bite set off the pain in his jaw, and his ass dropped back to the bed. Now Dalton was bobbing up and down on his cock, and Lucas reached down and clutched at Dalton’s shaggy hair and let out a sob. He couldn’t believe how it felt. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Certainly not his hand. Not the hundreds of ways he’d masturbated in his life. Nothing came close.
And just as he thought he could stop it no longer, he was going to cum, Dalton released him and began to gently suck his balls. Oh, oh, oh! Exquisite! Torture! Exquisite, wonderful torture!
“P-please, Dalton. P-please stop. I’m going to cum!”
But instead of stopping, Dalton let out a cry and took Lucas’s cock back into his hot, wet mouth, and it was over. Lucas thought he would die from the pleasure of it. A shock traveled through his entire body, and he unleashed a lifetime of need into Dalton’s mouth, his semen jetting out of him and into the love of his life. Dalton swallowed greedily, moaning almost as loudly as Lucas cried.
He thought he would black out. Maybe he did? For then Dalton was on top of him and lightly kissing him and using tongue to ask for permission for more. Lucas opened his mouth, accepted Dalton in, tasted himself, and felt his cock hardening again (if it had ever really gone soft). They kissed for a long moment, but that taste reminded him of what he really wanted. He pushed at Dalton’s chest and somehow managed to get him to roll off, and then he just kept rolling until he was on top. Dalton had no shirt to unbutton—and did Rebecca still have it? he wondered for less than a second—and at last he could worship that chest. Touch it and kiss it, make love to it, find Dalton’s nipples and suck on them and delight in feeling them harden in his mouth and how soft that hair was on his tongue.
Now it was his turn to travel down, down, down that lightly furry belly to the place the skin disappeared into Dalton’s pants. The bulge in those trousers looked huge. Much bigger than he remembered. Could the fabric make it look that big?
Time to find out.
He had Dalton’s pants undone just as fast as Dalton had had his, and suddenly there it was (at last!): Dalton’s erection.
It was bigger. Lucas was sure of it.
But Dalton had been thirteen then. He was eighteen now.
It was beautiful.
Thick, so thick Lucas could barely get his hand around it. And long. Longer than Lucas’s own modest six inches. It was surrounded by a soft forest of hair that looked almost sculpted—a soft pillow for Dalton’s cock to rest upon. It throbbed in Lucas’s hand, and a big crystalline drop formed at the head.
Lucas had to have it.
He licked it off, and his tongue tingled and delighted at the taste while Dalton cried out. Then he was taking it in his mouth, and God, if being sucked was pleasure, this was even better.
It was so alive!
The feel of the skin and the taste and the musky scent. It filled his mouth, and his sore jaw objected, and his sore jaw be damned. He took as much into his mouth as he could before gagging and retreating a bit and experimenting until, yes, he could take it deep, and he began to suck in earnest. He let his tongue move and massage the underside and was rewarded with more fluid, and he sucked more. Now Dalton’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Dalton was crying, telling Lucas how much he loved him, and it was music.
Lucas found he couldn’t stop. He thrust his own erection against Dalton’s leg. Couldn’t stop bobbing and sucking and seeing how deep he could go. He played with Dalton’s big balls, wanted to taste them too—like Dalton had done—but he just couldn’t stop. He wanted Dalton. He wanted all of Dalton.
“Oh! Oh, baby. I… I’m going to…!”
Yes, yes, yes!
Please!
And Dalton poured into Lucas’s mouth, thick jet after jet after jet, and any fear that he’d ever had that he wouldn’t like it was cast away in less than an instant. It was thick and sweet, so sweet, with only the slightest tang. He swallowed and swallowed and swallowed again, and then before he could stop himself, he was riding another orgasm, shooting all over Dalton’s pants leg.
Oh, well. Couldn’t be helped now.
He collapsed onto Dalton, cock slipping from his mouth, and rested his sore face against Dalton’s hitching belly, felt the still-hard erection against his neck and throat.
He’d done it.
He had sucked Dalton’s cock.
It was wonderful.
Then he told Dalton he loved him and slipped instantly off to sleep.
9
BEFORE THE night was over, Dalton fucked him. But, God, that just didn’t seem like the right word. Fuck. Such a crude word for something so exquisite. Not intercourse—that was even sillier and sounded so heterosexual. Like it was describing something you only did so you could have babies. And while he was determined that he would marry Dalton one way or another, even if they had to wait until they were ninety-nine and a hundred years old, it was going to happen. But babies? That was never going to happen. At least not that way.
Dalton offered himself first, telling Lucas that he could do “it” to him first, but they both knew the way it would be between them. Who knew what might happen someday down the line? But that night and through the months to come, it was Dalton inside him.
Oh God, oh God, oh God…. Dalton inside him. Indescribable. That’s what he told Sam.
He hadn’t known what it would be like, not a clue really. Only that it had to hurt. Had to hurt a lot. But he still wanted it—that was what it should be, Dalton over him and in him at the same time. Dalton. His man. Dalton needed to take him, make him his own.
And it had hurt. Oh yes. He thought Dalton was going to tear him to pieces. Neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. The angle was all awkward, and they didn’t know just where to put their legs so that Dalton could get inside him. There was lots of missing and slipping and… Oh, God, it hurts hurts hurts! Hurts so bad (which of course he couldn’t tell Dalton, or he might stop, and Lucas didn’t want him to stop—stopping would be worse)… but finally, magically, everything starting working just as it was supposed to do, and the stretching and pain turned into the most unimaginable pleasure he’d ever dreamed possible.
“…so tight oh my God you’re so tight oh God so good oh baby so good…”
“…so big oh God God God so big and oh so good and oh Dalton I’m yours…”
Finally.
And they were exploding and melding and becoming one.
Finally.
The first morning, waking in each other’s arms in that no-tell motel, Lucas asked again for the first time since they were kids.
“Marry me, Dalton.”
Dalton sighed, rolled over, and threw a leg on top of Lucas. “Not that again! Lucas, we can’t get married. We’re never going to be able to get married.”
“I heard about this church,” Lucas said. “They’ve got one in Kansas City. It’s called MCC. It’s a gay church. And they do these things called Holy Unions. They’re not legal of course, but—”
“Then why bother?” Dalton interrupted. “It won’t mean anything, Lucas!”
“But what does that matter? It’s the ceremony, isn’t it? The commitment?”
Dalton looked at him. Kissed him on the nose. “Baby. I don’t need any ceremony except to be in your arms. And I’m sorry, I’m not doing any ‘Holy Union.’ Unless it’s legal, I’m not doing it. And that’s never going to happen. Not in our lifetime.”
It hurt, made Lucas’s heart hurt. But then Dalton was kissing him and making love to him, and he forgot all about marriage and Holy Unions.
For a while.
They learned a lot about each other’s bodies in those months of summer before Dalton had to go away to college.
And way too soon, those days of summer were ending.
10
“ARE YOU sure about this?” Lucas asked for what felt like the millionth time. It all seemed too impossible. Dalton’s parents? Well, they were nothing like his mother, that was for sure. And Lucas knew—what they did to him, the way they raised him, the pure pressure of being Dalton Churchill—they were why it had taken Dalton so long to come out. Or was about to.
“I’m sure,” Dalton said and kissed him, right there on the doorstep in front of Dalton’s home.
Heart in his throat, Lucas followed Dalton into his house. His very big house. Dalton came from money, and the house was in the nicest neighborhood of Terra’s Gate.
It wasn’t the first time Lucas had been in Dalton’s house, of course. He’d known him his whole life—or at least most of it. The house wasn’t the same one he’d lived in back in those shoestring days. Dalton’s father had climbed the corporate ladder pretty quickly and had considered moving to Kansas City. Thankfully Dalton’s mother prevailed, saying that the quiet of a small town—even a college town—was a better place to raise Dalton. Lucas wasn’t sure what he would have done if Dalton had moved away.
The smell of food filled the house. They were having dinner with Dalton’s parents, and Lucas was so nervous he wasn’t sure how he would eat.
Dalton was coming out to his family tonight.
More—he was telling them that they were lovers.
Lucas could hardly believe it. It was so exciting. Maybe even almost as good as marriage!
But Lucas couldn’t get rid of the feeling that this was a very bad idea.
They already were pretty unhappy with their son for changing his college plans at the last minute. He was all set to go to the University of Missouri in Rolla—a science and technology school. Perfect for Dalton, who had always been one for taking things apart and putting them back together (starting with the tying of shoes). But then he had elected to stay in Terra’s Gate instead and go to Wagner University. His parents had acknowledged it was a good school, so they hadn’t fought it too much. They just couldn’t understand why he’d chosen to stay.
The reason, of course, was Lucas.
“I can’t bear to be away from you,” Dalton had said. Even though Lucas did to try to convince him that the other school might be better for him, his mind was made up. Of course Lucas hadn’t had his heart in it. Because he knew that he couldn’t bear to be away from Dalton. Which made him feel guilty. But he couldn’t bear the idea of Dalton leaving either.
“Mom?” Dalton called out. “We’re here.”
The one source of relief was that Dalton’s father wasn’t home yet. His Lexus wasn’t in the driveway.
“Hello, boys.”
They turned as one, and there she was. Mrs. Denise Churchill. Looking like she was dressed for a business dinner in a white blouse buttoned high and a black skirt and sensible heels. She was a handsome woman—no, beautiful—with brown hair cupped around her head and face like a bonnet. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her green eyes. She was studying them both, and Lucas couldn’t help feeling that she was somehow looking inside his head.
“Hello, Mrs. Churchill,” Lucas said.
“Lucas.” She nodded, then turned to her son. “Do I get a kiss, Dalton?”
“Sure, Mom.” Dalton went to her, and she put her arms around his neck, and he gave her a peck on the cheek.
“I hope you boys are hungry. I’ve made a big beef roast with all the fixings: salad, mashed potatoes, rolls—they’re not as good as what my mother made, but they’re good. Do you like carrots, Lucas? I cooked them with the roast.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
She raised a brow high enough that it disappeared under her bangs. “Ma’am? Mrs. Churchill? Why so formal tonight? What happened to Mrs. C? You’re making me nervous.” She gave her son a steady gaze, then turned. “I’ve made iced tea. Would you boys like some?”
They followed her out of the living room and into the kitchen. It was a big kitchen, easily twice the size of Lucas’s, with a big island in the middle with both electric and gas burners, and a grill. The cabinets were all glass faced, and Lucas knew from experience that all you had to do was touch them and gentle lights came on inside for late-night visits. The floors were heated as well.
“Will you pour, son?” asked Mrs. C.
The pitcher was on the island, along with glasses and lemon slices. Dalton poured and gave the first glass to Lucas—even though he shook his head no, you don’t have to do that—and the second to his mother before taking the third for himself. He pulled Lucas to the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room and sat them down together.
Again Dalton’s mother studied Lucas. “I made German chocolate cake for dessert. I wish it could have been pie, but they’re not my strong point. Not from scratch, that is.”
“I love German chocolate cake,” Lucas said.
She smiled. “I know. Dalton told me. He said you make one to die for, yourself. I wanted to make sure we had something you enjoyed. I hope it is as good as yours.”
But despite her easy and friendly banter, Lucas’s gut clenched. For some reason he wasn’t feeling good about this. He hadn’t before. He wasn’t now.
Mrs. C took a sip of her tea, then placed it on the counter. “Your father should be here soon. I think I’ll fix the mashed potatoes. Would you get the pot, Dalton? The strainer is in the sink. That’s a good boy.”
Dalton got up, rolled his eyes at Lucas, and went to the stove. He snagged some oven mitts that matched the kitchen colors beautifully and grabbed the big steaming pot. Then he poured it into the sink.
“Does your mother make mashed potatoes from scratch, Lucas?” she asked, smiling back at him with a big Vanna White smile. She took a hand mixer from a drawer and plugged it in. “Or does she use the instant boxed stuff?”
Geez. This was just weird. While she had never been mean to him, not really, she had never spared him any love either. But she’d never been like this.
“It depends,” he answered. “If we’re in a rush, she uses the boxed stuff. But when it counts, she makes them from scratch. Sometimes she adds cheese and chives.”
