Indirection, p.31
Indirection, page 31
part #1 of Borealis: Without a Compass Series
“What?”
“Did you ask him why he hasn’t been ravishing you or plundering your hole or whatever you want him to do?”
“It’s a little offensive that you assume he’s the one plundering my hole. Maybe I’m plundering—”
“Shaw!” The scream had a definite edge to it.
“Well, no. Not, you know, verbally.”
“I’m done.” Pari stood, dusted her hands, and added, “I’m sending you a bill. I charge two hundred dollars an hour for therapy. Plus an extra fee for outright stupidity.”
Her shoes clicked on the bare boards. Then she was gone.
Shaw sat for a while, turning it all over in his head. He washed his face. His hair still looked like a nimbus cloud, but he patted at the worst of the tufts, trying to get them to lie flat. Then he went downstairs. Pari and Truck were making out on the floor behind her desk.
“I’m deducting this from your therapy bill,” Shaw said as he passed them.
When he stepped into the office, North was typing something. He threw a glance over his shoulder, and his hands stilled when he saw Shaw.
“Hi,” Shaw said with a tiny wave.
“Hi.” North’s face seemed to close, and he spun in the chair to face Shaw. “This doesn’t look good.”
“No, it’s just—do you not want to have sex with me anymore?”
Shock rippled through North’s features, and a laugh burst out of him. He swallowed the sound after a moment, but a dazed grin lingered as he said, “What?”
“I’m serious.”
“Are we talking about right now?”
“No, in general.”
Some of the surprised humor faded as North’s eyebrows drew together. “I absolutely want to have sex with you. Right now would be a good time for me. Is it a good time for you?”
“Really? Because we haven’t had sex in, like, a month.”
“It hasn’t been—” North cut off. More slowly, he said, “A couple of nights ago…but I guess we didn’t really—” He chewed his lip. “Damn. Wait, not even on Valentine’s?” A note of despair entered his voice. “Oh my God. What the fuck did we do on Valentine’s?”
Shaw shook his head. “We were in Wahredua, trying to track down Billy. You, um, said you were having back spasms from sitting in the car so long on the stakeout, so we just ordered pizza and fell asleep in front of the TV in the motel.”
North pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and said, “I’m sorry, let me get this straight. Our first Valentine’s together, I ordered pizza, and we fell asleep in front of the TV, and I didn’t even sex you up?”
“And we combined it with my birthday because you said we were out of town and it might be easier to just combine them this year because my birthday is the day before Valentine’s, and you were having so much fun annoying Emery—”
“Holy shit. And you didn’t murder me? Ok, you need to break up with me right now so I can come crawling back. Please break up with me. Crawling back is the only way I can make this up to you.”
“I don’t want to break up with you,” Shaw said with a tremulous laugh. “And I don’t want you to come crawling back. But—but I know I’m not very, um, experienced, and I guess that gets boring after a while, and I know I’ve got a lot of hang-ups about sex in general, so I’m sure you get tired of that too. I just don’t want you to have to pretend that you’re too tired or something, so maybe we can just—”
“Shaw, I am not bored with our—I guess I should say with our sex life. I love you, and I am also very fucking into you. Sometimes, when I’ve had a bad day, especially when things with Tucker and the divorce get in my head, I might not be in the mood. But for the most part, I’ve just been tired.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe that sounds stupid, but I’m being serious. I’ve been exhausted.”
“You have been working a lot.”
“I’ve been working too much. I know I get…focused on work.”
“You get obsessed with work.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. But I honestly didn’t realize it was messing things up between us. I kept telling myself that it was temporary, that if I could just close out the month, things would calm down. And then it turned into a routine. And then, I’m now realizing, it killed our sex life and also made me the shittiest boyfriend ever.”
“Not ever,” Shaw said. “You didn’t try to torture information out of me and then kill me.”
“Oh God,” North groaned. “Ok, let’s go.”
“What?”
“Let’s go pack your bags. We’re leaving today. Somewhere. Anywhere. A vacation.”
“No, we’ve got clients, and we’ve got—”
“Shaw, I have wanted to be your boyfriend since I was eighteen. Now I find out I’ve fucked it up to the point that you think I’m bored with you. And I ruined your birthday. And I fucked up our first Valentine’s. So, yeah, let’s go. Pack a bag.”
He was already moving across the room, herding Shaw toward the door. Shaw caught his arms, laughing as he tried to stop North’s momentum.
“Slow down,” Shaw said. “We don’t need to leave on a vacation. Not right now, I mean. But maybe some time off would be good. And maybe figuring out some ways to, you know, make sure we still have time for each other. Time that doesn’t have to do with work. Or sleeping. Or eating while we work.”
North cupped his face in both hands, turned his head, and kissed him.
Shaw’s breath was ragged when North finally pulled back. “We don’t have to…I didn’t mean right now.”
“We surely fucking do,” North said. “Right fucking now.”
Steering Shaw by the shoulders, North propelled him toward the door. They passed through the office. Pari was now sitting at her desk, while Truck sat on the floor, giving her a foot massage. In the short time that Shaw had been in the office, another dozen roses had been delivered. To Pari, From Truck was written in a child’s scribble on the card.
“Oh thank God,” Pari said. “If I had to hear one more time about his urethra being blocked up from not enough sex, I was going to kill myself.”
“My chakra,” Shaw said. “My root chakra was blocked, and—”
“Go home,” North said. “Fuck, go anywhere. Just get out of here.”
“I’m working,” Pari snapped as she turned her attention back to her phone.
“Then you’re fired,” North said.
“You’re not fired,” Shaw called over his shoulder as North pushed him into the kitchen. “But we’re definitely closed for the rest of the day.”
“You promised me I’d get time and a half,” Pari screeched after them.
Shaw tried to turn, but North had an iron grip.
“Maybe I should make sure she knows—”
“Uh uh,” North said.
“—just so she doesn’t wipe the hard drives or—”
“Nope. You started this. Now we’re going to finish it.”
“That sounds a little scary, actually, when you say it that way.”
“Good,” North said as he strong-armed Shaw up the stairs.
North released Shaw when they reached the bedroom, and Shaw stumbled at the final thrust from North’s hands. He caught himself, barely, from tumbling into the pile of Chucks. Then he turned around. North was thumbing the lock shut.
“We don’t have to—I just meant—the principle of the thing—if you don’t want to—”
Leaning against the door, North studied him. Then he rucked up the Hampton Nursery and Landscaping tee, turning himself out of it, and tossed it to the floor. He worked the Redwings off next, one at a time, and dropped his jeans. He shucked his boxer briefs next. He was hard. The tip of his dick was wet.
“Does it look like I don’t want to?”
Shaw had an answer, but it emerged as a raspy noise that wasn’t quite a word.
“I know this is still scary for you sometimes,” North said as he crossed the room. The movements were slow, confident, predatory. “I’ve tried really hard not to pressure you. I guess I went too far the other way if I let you get the idea that I don’t want to do this every time I’m around you.”
“And you’ve been tired,” Shaw pointed out in a whisper.
A tiny smile pulled the corner of North’s mouth as he grabbed a handful of Shaw’s shirt and yanked him forward, closing the final distance between them. He worked the buttons open. Shaw was surprised to feel a tremor in North’s hands. “I’m not tired now, am I?”
“You do still have those bags under your eyes, so—”
North kissed him again. His hand slid inside Shaw’s shirt, and strong, rough fingers closed around one nipple. Shaw moaned as North twisted and pulled, gently and then not so gently. North’s tongue slid into his mouth.
When the kiss broke, North finished the buttons. He tugged on the waistband of the jeggings, slid his hand down the front of the jeans, and cupped Shaw’s erection through the stretchy denim. “I love you,” North said, his voice unsteady.
“I love you too.”
“And I’m going to fuck you like a crazy man now because that’s what I am. You make me crazy. I never thought I could feel so much for one person.”
When North’s hands reached the waistband again, Shaw closed his fingers around North’s, stopping him. “You’ve been teasing me a lot lately,” Shaw said. “Sometimes I think I just annoy you.”
North tried the button again, and again Shaw stopped him.
“You like when I tease you,” North said, and then he worked the button open and shoved the jeggings down to Shaw’s knees. Hands on Shaw’s bare hips sent an inferno through Shaw. North guided him back, eased him down onto the bed, and drew the jeggings off the rest of the way.
“Commando,” North said. “Again?”
Goosebumps prickled along Shaw’s belly and chest as North straddled him. “And you have to be nicer to me,” Shaw whispered.
North considered this, stroking himself lightly, his ice-rim eyes already glassy with lust. “Fuck that,” he finally said. “You don’t want me to be nicer.”
“I do,” Shaw said, but he whimpered when North’s other hand closed around his dick, North’s thumb brushing the slit and following the curve of the head. “I want you to be nice. Jadon is always nice to me. I want you to listen to my fourteen-hour playlist of Telanganan tribal instruments, and I don’t want you to roll your eyes or tell me it sounds like cats getting their anuses cleaned or anything mean. I just want you to be nice. Like Jadon.”
With a thoughtful noise, North nodded slowly. He leaned down, tracing a line of kisses along Shaw’s chest until his mouth closed over a nipple. His hand still slid along Shaw’s shaft. His tongue caressed the nipple. The hot, wet heat made Shaw moan again.
Then North bit him. Hard.
Shaw squealed. He tried to sit up, but North pressed him back down.
“North, what the hell?”
North kissed him. Shaw was too stunned to resist. Then, after a moment, he twisted away.
North was smirking.
“You are a jerk, North McKinney.”
“Just reminding you who you belong to, and that it doesn’t have anything to do with being nice.”
“I don’t belong to anyone. I’m a person, not a thing, and you being objectifying and possessive is not acceptable.”
“But it makes you hard as a fucking rock,” North said, his smirk growing. His hand moved faster. And then faster. And too late, Shaw realized the rush of endorphins had tipped an already precarious balance, and he rolled his hips up to thrust into the tight circle of North’s hand, bucking wildly as he came. One of Shaw’s hands clutched North’s arm. The other dug furrows into the bedding.
When Shaw came back down, North’s hand was still moving lightly, and Shaw had to close his eyes. When he made a faintly distressed noise, North chuckled and released him. Then North’s mouth was on him again: butterfly kisses all over Shaw’s chest and belly, up and down, until North’s lips brushed Shaw’s. Shaw’s mouth parted, accepting North’s tongue again, and when North pulled away again, this time it was North whose breathing sounded shattered.
“I love you so much. I love you so, so much. I love you more than anything ever, in my whole life, and I’m such a fucking piece of shit for not treating you the way you deserve. Please let me make it up to you.”
Shaw opened his eyes, and he was shocked to see that North’s eyes were red, and tear tracks glinted silver on his cheeks.
“North, it wasn’t just you. I know I need to be better about being…direct. Honest, I mean. I need to stop getting in my head and thinking that I can flirt or seduce you into what I want; sometimes I don’t know how to tell you because there’s only been you and Jadon and Matty, and I feel uncomfortable about expressing that stuff because I had to bury it for so long. And part of me had these fantasies where you were always going to take care of things and make everything better—I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just trying to tell you that a lot of it is me.”
“I will take care of you, though,” North said. “I will. I’ll do better.”
“I know you will. But I need to do my part too. And I will.” Shaw licked his lips; he still felt wrapped in clouds, hazy in the post-orgasmic rush. He found North’s dick and ran his hand along it; the semi turned into a full-on erection in a matter of seconds. “I would really like you to fuck me.”
North’s eyes were still wet, but he blinked them clear, trying for another smirk. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Fuck me, North.”
“God, you have no idea how hot that sounds.”
“Fuck me right now.”
North kissed him again. One hand slid between Shaw’s legs, past his balls, already slick and circling as the kiss intensified. When North pulled back, he got his hand under Shaw’s knee and pulled one leg over his shoulder. His finger breached Shaw, and Shaw made a weak noise as he tried to grind against the touch.
“Next time,” North said, wiping his cheek on Shaw’s calf, his smirk trembling, “I’m going to make you call me daddy.”
“You are such an asshole, North McKinney!”
North’s mouth was on Shaw’s dick then, his finger moving until Shaw gasped and a nova of pleasure ignited behind his eyes. He decided, in the last fragments of conscious thought, that they could have that particular argument later.
Chapter 36
IN SOME WAYS, for North, the after-sex routine was better than the sex itself. Sex with Shaw was phenomenal; it was the best sex of North’s life, and a lot of that had to do with the emotional component that had been missing from most of his previous relationships. But North had plowed his way through plenty of hot guys, and good sex was still just sex. Lying in bed with Shaw under his arm, listening to Shaw’s heartbeat while Shaw tried to explain the social-justice imperative to never eat potato chips again, was something North had wanted for most of his life and only recently gotten. As far as he was concerned, sex didn’t come within a mile of being as good as this.
“Come on,” North said as Shaw launched into years 1970-1972 in his racial history of fried snacks. Rolling to his feet, North glanced around for his clothes. “Let’s go pick up some groceries. Your fridge is empty, and I’m starving.”
“I was just getting to the good part about Andy Capp’s.”
North pitched the jeggings at Shaw, then the Cuban collar shirt. “I’ll give you a quarter for the gumball machine if you’re good.”
Shaw was already halfway into his clothes when he froze and, with stilted dignity, said, “I’m not a child.”
North was still laughing when they piled into the GTO.
They picked up sandwiches and groceries at LeGrand’s, a deli that had just enough stock for an emergency run like this, and then they went home. The inside of the GTO smelled like the meatball sandwich North had ordered. Shaw kept leaning into the bag and taking deep breaths.
“If you wanted a meatball sandwich,” North said as they parked in Shaw’s garage, “you should have ordered a meatball sandwich.”
“I—”
“Which is why I suggested that you order a meatball sandwich.”
“I don’t want a meatball sandwich. I want a Reuben.” His tone became a mimicry of North’s. “Which is why I ordered the Reuben.”
“Just for that,” North said as he retrieved the keys from the ignition, “you can walk the long way around.”
“What do you—North, no!”
But North had already seized the bags of food and was sprinting for the door. As soon as he was inside, he locked it behind him. Shaw tried the handle and then pounded on the door.
“Open up! This is not funny. It’s cold!”
North waited until he heard angry footsteps moving away, and then he undid the lock. Humming, he made his way down the hall and into the kitchen. He started unpacking the cold stuff first, putting away the wedge of English cheddar, the Greek yogurt, the frozen pizza that Shaw had spent four minutes in front of the freezer case explaining was full of butylated hydroxyanisole and sodium ascorbate. He was still stowing the cold stuff when Shaw stomped into the kitchen, chafing his arms.
“Not funny, North!”
North offered his most innocent look.
“I could have gotten pneumonia, and—when did you buy ice cream sandwiches?”
“When you weren’t looking. I think you were in the middle of your ecstasy about finding oat milk creamer.”
“North, you can’t—those are really, really bad for you.”
North shoved the box into the freezer, closed the door, and leaned against the appliance. “Oops. But, here they are. I guess I’d better eat them; it’s incredibly unethical to waste food with so many starving people in the world.”
Shaw’s face twisted at the catch-22. He must have decided to change the terms of battle because he said, “You can’t lock someone out of the house, North. Not in the winter. I could have slipped and fallen and broken my neck. Or I could have frozen to death. Or I could have been raped by a…by a Yeti!”
“Good fucking luck to the Yeti,” North muttered.
