Page 82 of Walking Wounded

“Hi, Kate,” Hal says, and gives her one of his big, kind smiles. “Yeah, just checking out a friend’s club. Well…a friend of a friend’s club,” he adds with a little wince.

“Not hisfriendanymore,” Luke mutters.

“You just getting off work?” Hal asks her.

She nods. And there’s that smile again, the one that makes Luke’s stomach tighten in a bad way. “You guys are getting in kind of early from a club.”

“Well…” Hal starts.

“Couldn’t wait to get home, huh?” She laughs softly, not unkindly.

Hal says, “Uh...”

The elevator arrives and she steps inside it. Luke doesn’t make a move to join her, and Hal doesn’t either, he notes with some relief.

“Hal,” Kate says, smile gentling, just as the doors begin to close. “You never did have that conversation I told you to have. Shame on you.” The doors meet with a muffled sound.

This second meeting was less rattling than the first; more cryptic smiles and suggestions. Luke can handle that stuff all day. Also, she was directing her energy toward Hal, rather than him. Hal who, now, stands rooted, hands clenched into fists, staring at his boots and deep-breathing like he’s on the edge of panic.

“That’s why you don’t date someone who lives in your building,” Luke says. “Don’t shit where you eat, man.”

“Yeah,” Hal says, but he sounds distracted. A muscle in his jaw jumps. His lashes flicker low on his cheeks.

“What conversation was she talking about?”

Hal exhales, and is momentarily saved by the elevator returning.

Once inside, Luke says, “Hal.”

Another deep exhale. “It’s something she and I talked about…when we were together and things weren’t going well. A conversation I should have had a long time ago,” he says to their gold reflections in the front wall.

“Okay,” Luke says, aiming for patience. “What kind of conversation?”

The elevator hits their floor, and the doors open with a polite ding.

“Probably better to have it inside,” Hal says, already fishing his keys from his pocket as they walk. His hands are shaking, Luke realizes, and it takes a few tries to unlock the apartment.

“Hey,” Luke says. “What’s the matter?”

“Just…” The lock turns. “Just a sec.”

They get inside, hang up their jackets, toe their shoes off and line them up just inside the door. Throughout this ritual, Luke feels tension winding tighter and tighter down the length of his spine. Hal’s starting to freak him out a little at this point. Hal’s the sweetest guy in the world, but he doesn’t haveconversations.

“Okay. So. What?” Luke presses when they’re standing in the middle of the living room.

“What?” Hal parrots. He hooks his thumbs into his front pockets and wiggles his socked toes against the rug. Luke hasn’t seen him this nervous in a long, long time.

“That’s what I asked you,” Luke says. It’s hard to be patient, but he thinks maybe he should be, because Hal…Hal is worried. Luke sighs – sighspatiently, he thinks. “Look, you’ve been acting weird, man. What’s–”

Hal takes one huge step to close the distance between them. His hands dart with none of their usual grace, freezing just millimeters from either side of Luke’s face. Like he was going to cup his cheeks. Like he was going to…

And then he does just that, eyes flicking back and forth, and back and forth over Luke’s features, no doubt taking in his confused frown. His hands are large, and full of heat and a familiar, long-known, well-loved kindness. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, just a moment, nods to himself, leans in and kisses Luke.

~*~

Luke’s first on-the-lips kiss happened when he was fourteen. Eric Jennings was a second string running back, a junior, and he plead the usual: his parents were homophobic, his team might ostracize him, he was still figuring out what he wanted. A stolen, awkward kiss in an equipment closet that didn’t warrant keeping secret…but that Luke didn’t talk about, because he wanted to respect Eric’s wishes.

He lost his virginity in bits and pieces – or, within the grip of a variety of hands – during high school. Tim, Drake, Evan. It wasn’t until college, and Patrick, that a true opportunity for a relationship presented itself. A sleeping-over, Valentine’s-celebrating, meet-the-parents kind of relationship.

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