Page 17 of Lace

Caleb straightened and preened a tiny bit. “It’s the outfit. You love this look, and you know it.”

“You have no idea…” Levi’s voice didn’t hold the same teasing note this time, and he gave the leather draped over Caleb’s thighs a light pat. “I think you’re gorgeous. You know that?”

Caleb let a soft, genuine smile filter through his earlier unease. He did know. Levi never judged. Never suggested he wear something less flashy, never faltered taking his hand in public when someone sneered. He knew.

“I know,” Caleb whispered. “So, this is what I wanted to show you. No more talking for a minute.”

Levi nodded and stopped patting, his hand warm and comforting on Caleb’s thigh.

Slow, at first, Caleb trilled through a few scales, testing the stiffness in his trampled hand. Thankfully, it seemed he’d got away with just a few bruises and no more serious damage. Satisfied, he let the scales lead into what he really wanted to play for the man at his side. The man who was always, unfailingly, at his side.

Soft chords lifted from the piano, spinning on whirling waves around them—delicate, fast, determined vibrations of sound and rhythm—and Caleb closed his eyes, swaying with the music he’d created to express what he never seemed to find the right words for. He didn’t know how to say what Levi deserved to hear. But he knew how to play. He knew how to make the music say it for him, and tonight, every sweet note hit right, every tremulous uncertainty came out true and sure under his fingers, and he ended with a smile on his face and the knowledge he’d expressed what he really meant this time.

Levi said nothing.

Minutes stretched and elongated, like elastic bands ready to snap back and sting.

“So?” Caleb said at last, his heart trembling in its rhythm.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before,” Levi said at last. “Who’s it by?”

Caleb blinked at him. “Really?”

Levi actually blushed. “You wrote it.”

Caleb tried hard not to turn away. “For you. About you. And me.”

Still, Levi stared at him, a blank, confused look in his eyes.

Caleb rose and hurried to the door. “Never mind. We should get out of here.” He was feeling that constriction again—the one that cut off his air, left him panting for breath and feeling like he was insane, a freak, split in half and no one would ever understand he had two sides and one of them was suffocating to death.

“Wait!” Levi spun in place on the bench. “Wait, Cally, just… I don’t understand.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter.” He got the lock disengaged and turned the handle. “Let’s go.” The smell of their sex lingered, damp, twisted, filling his nostrils with the stench of all the things the coupling hadn’t been.

Levi scrambled up, planting a hand on the door before Caleb could leave the room. “Please, babe, don’t run.”

Caleb dropped his gaze and his voice as well until it came out barely audible. “I’m not running.”

“Yes, you are. You always run when I’m too slow to keep up.” He cupped Caleb’s chin and lifted his head. “Just wait for me. I’ll get there, yeah?”

Caleb shrugged. Would he? Caleb was beginning to wonder if they were even running the same course.

“Hey. Look at me,” Levi leaned close, brushing his lips over Caleb’s, and the touch was so soft, so careful. Caleb sighed and parted his own lips. He couldn’t explain. He couldn’t really tell Levi what was missing, what he wanted. The man was already so supportive of the abnormalities Caleb couldn’t hide. He didn’t have the right to ask for more. So instead, he gave—letting Levikiss him, accepting the distraction and willing it to be enough. Again.

By the time they made it back to the dorms and up to Levi’s room, all the heat between them had dissipated. Caleb was tired. He was ready for sleep, ready to curl himself in under the covers and nurse his confusion until either it got light enough to get up or he actually slept. He didn’t care which. He lay quietly, his back to Levi, and kept very still. Behind him, Levi’s breathing never really evened out into sleep, either.

He wasn’t sure how they’d got to this place where there was too much to say and neither of them seemed to have a clue what any of it was or how to say it.

Six

Grey morning crept into the room as Caleb slid from the bed. He felt Levi watching him dress, but his lover didn’t say a word to stop him leaving. Carefully, Caleb folded his kilt and tucked it into one of Levi’s drawers, under a pile of jeans, exchanging it for a T-shirt to replace his own sweat-crusted one from the night before.

Levi said nothing.

It was still on the gloomy side of dawn, though Caleb could feel the damp in the air promising an overcast, dismal day when he eased the door open and snuck out into the quiet hallway.

Back on campus proper, he checked the time, decided there was no point in going home before his first class, and instead, wandered to the Council office by way of the cafeteria and the coffee kiosk. A wet day greeted him through the wide expanse of windows in the office and he set out his breakfast at Levi’s desk, his back to the dripping view.

---