Page 84 of Refraction

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Calvin lovedhow things just called to Tucker. Paint was what he saw the most of in New York, but the way those knowing fingers ran over Pandora’s box wasn’t all that different than the way those same strong, curious fingers explored his skin at night.

He made his way farther into the barn, wondering what in the world could have called to his lover this time that would have made Tucker think he shouldn’t see it.

The first few canvases were blatantly sexual, men caught in erotic poses, their bodies trapped in ice. As he wandered deeper into the barn, the images were of men being tortured, flayed alive, split open, and they all seemed lost, one agonized face after another, and the demons were winning each battle.

He stopped in front of one painting, staring at it. It was a sickening and bloody portrayal of a demon tearing at a man’s scalp, the man’s face twisted and screaming in agony. It was painful to look at, and he could feel himself leaning away, wanting more distance between his sensibilities and that much violence.

He moved on to the next one, and the one after that, making himself look at every single one until they didn’t have that hold on him anymore.

These weren’t done by the Tucker he knew—not the artist, and not the man either. These were something else.

He thought about what he knew of Tucker’s work. His favorite piece from Tucker’s New York show was part of the red series—the man bound in barbed wire. The demon over the man’s shoulder looked angry and hungry, but Calvin remembered clearly what Tucker told him.

“The demon can’t have him.” Tucker had said. “He’s beyond that.”

Was that what Tucker didn’t want Calvin to see? That he wasn’t winning?

He looked back over his shoulder at Tucker, who was creating this totally different piece of art, this new thing that was a secret, that didn’t feel angry or ashamed or hurt. Tucker had found this, had worked through another set of demons and come out waiting for him.

Take that, demons.And I’m here now, so you’ll behave, or you’ll have me to contend with.So there.

He sure didn’t need to spend another minute with this kind of darkness. Not with his man playing with a pretty and complicated box that was made for joy.

He wandered a bit more, just to see the barn and all the interesting things Tucker had collected and stored there. Tools, benches, scraps of this or that sitting in sawdust or covered with sheets. Pieces of Tucker’s creativity.

He came around to Tucker again from a different side this time, and leaned on the edge of the table to watch.

Tucker was singing, working the wood with a tiny sharp razor. It took a few minutes, but then Tucker looked up at him, searching his face. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey.” He shrugged at Tucker, grinning slightly. “So… you were right. Not your best work.”

“No. They’re… they’re just basic torture porn, but I had to work them out.” Tucker winked at him. “Artistic temper tantrums are a bitch.”

He laughed. “In my business they call them diva fits.” He moved closer to Tucker and leaned in a little. “Just reminding myself you’re solid. You should kiss me.” He went up on his toes, offering.

“I most definitely should.” Suddenly Tucker seemed a thousand percent more present, as if Calvin had passed some trial and Tucker wasn’t bothering to hide himself. Tucker leaned over, bringing them together the rest of the way. The first connection was warm, gentle, sweet.

Then Tucker took his mouth like he was storming a beach, kissing him with pure heat.

Fuck yeah.He loved Tucker like this. He held on, hands sliding around Tucker’s back, letting his lover have him.

Tucker’s eyes focused on his like lasers, and one hand cupped the back of his head, keeping them close.

He breathed in Tucker’s air. There was no sound but the pounding of his heart, and all he could see was bright blue. “Tiger.” He exhaled in a rush. God, it was so good to breathe again.

“I want to love on you. Here. In this space.” That was just as clear and honest as he could be.

Calvin nodded. Yeah, that seemed important, though he wasn’t sure why. He let his fingers wander up tanned arms and down over that broad chest. “I want that also. I’m yours, Tucker. Love me any way you want to.”

“I never have. You’re the first to be here. The only one.”

He understood the weight of that, what it meant to Tucker. “I can live up to that. I want to. I want to stay the only one.” The only one ever.

“That works for me.” That sounded like a promise. Like a vow.

Heat rose from somewhere deep, sending electricity straight through his balls, all the way out to his fingertips. He needed Tucker’s hands on him like nothing else. “Please.” He took a kiss, coming at Tucker so hard they stumbled a step or two together.

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