Page 129 of College Town

“It’s fine,” he says, moving around on the bed so he lies behind Tommy, head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “Just be gentle,” he adds, aiming for teasing.

Tommy leans over and sets the pages on the nightstand, then stretches out on his side next to him, propped up on an elbow so he can look down into Lawson’s face. “I’ll read the rest later.”

Lawson’s doesn’t ask whenlateris supposed to be.

“I got through the first five pages while you were in the shower.”

“And getting my mom’s blessing to boink under her roof.”

Tommy snorts and doesn’t take the bait. “Leo’s right: it’s good.”

“Hm.”

“It’s very…what’s the word I’m looking for?Marketable, maybe.”

“High praise.”

“It reads like something I’d find on one of the big display tables in the front of Barnes & Noble. A real benign cover, you know? Some celebrity’s book club pick.”

“This is sounding less and less like a compliment. Though I could definitely buy a new dishwasher if I was on one of the display tables at Barnes & Noble.”

Oops, there went the dishwasher admission.

Tommy doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “It’sgood. But it’s notyou.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lawson says, though he does. He just wants to hear what Tommy will say.

What hedoes, it turns out, because Tommy rolls in closer and hovers over him. He balances on an elbow, and reaches to splay his other hand over Lawson’s jaw. His thumb sweeps along the high ridge of his cheekbone, out to the corner of his eye where he knows he’s got sun lines.

Tommy’s not smiling, but his expression is very soft and unguarded, as his gaze traces slowly over the whole of Lawson’s face. “You didn’t take your contacts out,” he observes.

Lawson swallows. “No. I didn’t want to be blind when…”

Tommy taps his thumb to his lower lip, his mouth curving upward in a quiet, private sort of smile. “Your writing is very technically good,” he says, in a low voice, one just meant to bridge the scant space between them. “Leo was right about it being high-brow, too. It’s…” He visibly searches for the word he wants, lips compressing.

“Literary?” Lawson suggests, and he nods.

“Yeah, that. Stuck up.”

Lawson grins, but it fades fast when Tommy doesn’t smile back.

“But if I hadn’t gotten it off your desk, I’d have no idea you were the one who wrote it.”

“Oh.”

“You have avoicewhen you write, Law. Your whole personality comes through in your characters.”

He resists the urge to squirm under him, but barely.

“You putmagicon the page,” Tommy says quietly, but with great feeling, and his big brown eyes are wells of sadness. “And this manuscript’s good, but it’s not magic.”

“Magic doesn’t matter when you’re trying to get published.”When you need the money, he doesn’t say.

Tommy smiles, and that’s sad, too. “I know. But I wish it did.”

Then he leans down to kiss him.

~*~

---