The Light in Your Eyes

By Tinnean

Chapter 10

One week bled into the next, and Wills still hadn't called.

I left another message. "All right, fine. You don't want to talk to me, I don't care! I don't need… Aw, fuck, Wills. Call me! Please!"

I began to worry. Was he cutting me out of his life? Had fucking me made him realize all the other men who had? Did he think of me as cheap, as a whore?

But that's just what you are, a voice in the back of my mind whispered maliciously. It's what you've always been. Franky must have known it just by looking at you. Otherwise, why would he have put you on the street?

Sickened by that thought, I tramped down on it. Wills treats me well…

It's the novelty. He'd treat anyone well who could make him come as hard as you do.

He likes me!

How much longer do you think it will be before he realizes he can have someone all of Washington, DC hasn't had?

Yeah. That was what it came down to. I called Wills again. We'd hash this out, and…

I got his machine. Again.

"Listen, Matheson. I don't have to have a ton of bricks fall on me to get the message! You had my ass, and now you don't respect me any more." I cringed at how cliché that sounded but, "If that's the way you feel about it, fine!" And then I back-peddled. "I didn't mean that! Call me?"

God, I was so pathetic. I called Vincent. "I know you're busy, Vince, but… "

"What's up?"

"Um… have you seen Wills lately?"

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," I finished miserably.

"All right, look. I can tell you that he's out of town and it's work-related, okay?"

"Can you tell me when he'll be back?"

"No."

I sighed. "Okay. Thanks, Vince." I hung up, swearing to myself that I wouldn't call Wills again.

I'd go out and buy something. Maybe that would make me feel better.

The phone rang, and I almost tripped over my feet in the rush to get it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, there, Ace." It was the exec.

"Oh. Hello, Thomas." Of course that wasn't his real name.

"You sound really glad to hear from me."

"Sorry. I'm… What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to set up something with you."

"Well, you know Delilah was… that she's dead."

"Yes. I was sorry to hear about that. She was very talented. No, I was thinking of Layla."

Layla, tall, blonde, and with more curves than a scenic railway, had moved in downstairs after Delilah moved to the condo in Aspen Reach, but I rarely saw her.

"I'm sorry, Thomas. I'm not available."

"You didn't give me a chance to tell you when I'll be arriving… "

"I should have made myself more clear. I'm out of the business."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Was he going to say I was very talented too?

"I can recommend another stable if you'd like."

"Of course. I know coming from you, they'll be very creative." Had he always been so condescending?

No, I realized, that was unfair to him. Just because I was out of sorts that I hadn't heard from Wills in months… Okay, a few weeks…

"You know, if you ever decide to… Well, I just want you to know that I'll always give you first priority, Sweetcheeks."

"Thank you, Thomas. I appreciate that. Do you have a pen?" I gave him Charlemagne's number, then said 'goodbye,' hung up, and called Charlemagne myself.

"Chuck, it's Sweetcheeks."

"Well, well, well. And to what do I owe this honor?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

"I'm sending you a very good john, Chuck. If I hear he hasn't gotten top notch treatment from your boys, you will never get another recommendation from me ever. Got that?"

"I've got it, Sweets." Jesus, I hated when he called me that. "I'll handle him myself, and I assure you, he will have no complaints whatsoever."

"Yeah, whatever." I told him what Thomas liked.

"And you say he'll want a woman involved as well?"

"He mentioned Layla, who lives downstairs."

"She's taken over for Delilah, hasn't she? I was sorry about Delilah. She was good people."

"You knew her, Chuck?"

"Do you have any idea how much I loathe and detest that nickname?" Why did he think I called him that? "And yes, I knew her. I tricked with her a time or two myself. Thank you, Sweetcheeks."

"You're welcome, Charlemagne. Remember to treat him nice."

"Of course." He hung up.

The day wore on. I didn't find anything I liked in Beau Brummel's or Boots and Away, and I went home. Once there, I couldn't settle to anything I tried, not cooking, not working on the books, not even watching The Big Chill, which was a favorite of Wills'. I began to wonder if Vincent had lied to me. We were friends, but he worked with Wills everyday. If Wills asked him to tell me he was away… ?

In spite of vowing to myself that I wouldn't, I called Wills again.

"Where the fuck are you, Wills? Look, Vincent told me you were away but I know you know how to get your messages, so obviously you're avoiding me. Are you avoiding me?" I hated the plaintiveness in my voice. I cleared my throat. "Call me, okay?"

Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I was going to track him down at his apartment. I knew where he lived.

I looked up at the building. Rents were high no matter where you lived in the Capital. I wondered again how Wills could afford it.

I couldn't casually question the doorman, since there wasn't one, so I waited until a matronly woman, her arms filled with groceries, climbed up the shallow steps and fumbled with her purse.

"Let me help you, ma'am."

"Thank you. So kind." Huffing and puffing, she let me take the bags and searched through her purse for her key. "I really should get myself a shopping wagon. I don't recognize you, young man. Are you a new tenant?"

"No, I'm visiting a friend of mine who lives here." I followed her into the lobby. She checked for her mail. I glanced surreptitiously at the rows of boxes, but they didn't have the little glass windows in them, so when I spotted Wills', I couldn't tell if there was mail in it or not.

She locked her mailbox and led me to the bank of elevators.

"Who did you say your friend is?" We got in the elevator. "Perhaps I know her."

"Him. William Matheson?"

"Hmmm. I don't recognize the name."

"He's on 8."

"Oh, no wonder. I'm on 6."

We rode up, and she told me about her granddaughter – quite a lovely young lady if she said so herself, and she eyed me thoughtfully – who would be coming to spend a week with her, which was why she had all the groceries. The elevator dinged.

"Well, this is my floor."

"Would you like me to carry these to your apartment, ma'am?"

She became cautious. "That's very kind of you, but… My husband wouldn't approve." She took her groceries. "I'm sure you understand?"

"Of course. Have a good day, ma'am." The doors slid shut and with a slight jerk, the elevator rose the final two floors to my destination.

No one was in the hallway, and I made my way down it to Wills' apartment. When I found it, I stood outside, biting my lip, running a hand through my hair, and shifting from one foot to the other.

It was stupid to be nervous. I raised my hand to knock, then paused, certain I heard two voices inside. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I knew they were male. One was deep and husky, the other…

Wills.

Wills, who didn't answer any of my messages. Who was in his apartment with another man. They'd probably been fucking like rabbits. That and laughing at the stupid rentboy who'd given his heart away.

My self-esteem in the toilet, I slunk home. I wanted… no more than that, I needed a drink.

One wasn't enough. Neither was four or five or six, and that should have told me, if nothing else could, how far up shit creek I was.

"Ah, geez, Sweets." Paul found me in the kitchen, cradling a bottle of retsina.

"'t's not 's good 's back home," I mumbled. Grandpa used to get it from the Old Country, and Poppa had let me have a small glass for my fifteenth birthday. Just before he'd thrown me out.

"Where is home?"

"Not tellin'."

Paul shook his head. "You've never done this before."

"So?"

"It isn't good for you."

"So?"

"He's not worth it."

That was the problem. He was. Tears started to spill down my cheeks. "Why'd he do this, Paul? 'm not a bad person, am I?"

"You're the best, Sweets."

No, I wasn't. I remembered I'd killed a man, but I kept that locked behind my teeth.

"He doesn't deserve you, and if he comes back, I'm gonna kick his preppy ass."

"'t's a nice ass, Paul. Did I tell you I was the first one in it? Now who knows? He's probably getting it fucked by someone who isn't me."

"Ah, Sweets… "

I called one last time, just to see if he'd pick up the phone. "This is Matheson. You know the drill. Go." His goddammed answering machine.

"'kay, 'at's it, 'm through beggin'! Have it y' own way. 's far 's I'm concerned, we're through. S' do me a favor." I dashed the tears from my eyes. "Don't come around any more! Ever! Bastard." I slammed down the phone and went back to the kitchen. The retsina was finished, but there was still that bottle of red wine that had never been drunk.

And once that was done, I'd start on the Seagram's.

****

I heard voices raised out in the hall. One was Paul's and the other was…

No. Why would Wills come here? He'd made it more than clear he wanted nothing to do with me.

"He doesn't want to see you, you bastard!" Paul snarled.

My friend. I could picture him standing in front of the door, guarding it like the angel Gabriel. Or whatever angel it was who stood guarding the gates of Heaven.

"Tough shit, because he's going to!" My ears weren't playing tricks on me. It was Wills!

"Matheson, you can't go in there! He isn't alone!"

I wasn't? I looked around. It took a second for me to realize Paul was trying to discourage my lover… my former lover… from coming in.

"Listen to me, Pretty Boy. I haven't slept in almost two days. In the past twenty-four hours, I've been in three different time zones, six different airports, flown four different airlines and driven the rental car from hell."

Did that mean... That had to mean he hadn't been home! But then, who had I heard in his apartment? It hit me. His television. Lots of people had their TVs set on timer when they were away so no one would know they were away and crooks would think someone was home and wouldn't burgle it. Yeah, that made sense. I thought that made sense.

Or did I just want that to be the way it was?

Meanwhile, Wills' voice rose, angrier than I could have imagined it. "I get home to find out I've been broken up with over the tele-fucking-phone, and I no longer have a lover. Now, you're Mr. Vincent's friend, and he would hate it like hell if I hurt you. So I'm advising you, for both our sakes, to get the fuck out of my way," his words came in short, machine gun bursts, "because If. You. Don't… I will go through you!"

I opened the door – after all, I didn't want him hurting Paul – and squinted at him. "Wills? What do you want?"

"I want to know why you're throwing away what we had!"

"All we had was some hot, sweaty sex."

He turned pale. "You can't believe that!"

That hurt him? Good. "Don't you tell me what I can or can't believe, you cocksucker!"

"But I've never sucked your cock, have I?"

No. Not a single one of my clients had offered to blow me, so why should I have expected him to? And besides, I hadn't wanted to take the chance of maybe turning him off to the whole gay thing.

He shoved me backwards into the apartment and followed me.

"Hey!" What the fuck?

"Find somewhere else to be," he growled at Paul. "Theo's gonna be tied up for quite some time!" He slammed the door shut and locked it.

"What are you doing?" I'd never seen the look in his eyes before. He'd always struck me as easy-going and laidback, but now he looked… I swallowed. He looked dangerous.

"You need a bath." He grabbed my arm. "You smell like a brewery!"

"Well, it's your fault!" I tried to yank free. "Why couldn't you tell me to my face if you didn't want to… if you wanted to break up with me?"

He stopped. "What?"

"Vincent told me you weren't available, but I… " I suddenly realized I couldn't tell him I'd been to his apartment. He'd think I was some kind of psycho stalker, and no one wanted a psycho stalker for a boyfriend. I made up a quick lie. "I saw you, goddammit! You were walking away from me down Massachusetts Avenue, and you fucking ignored me when I called your name!"

"Theo!" The lie must have been better than I thought, because he didn't call me on it. "Did it ever occur to you that it might not have been me? Why wouldn't I answer if you called?"

I couldn't face him. It was my biggest fear, that he'd found someone who hadn't spent the last twelve years getting fucking by every Tom, Dick, and Harry who had the money. "Because of my past!" I said in low tones.

"What? Never the fuck mind!" He turned me around and gave me a push. "Get in the bathroom and get those clothes off!" He turned on his heel and headed away from me.

"Wait a minute! Where are you going?"

"Pretty Boy said you had company. I'm going to find him, beat the shit out of him, and throw him out. And then I'm going to whale the tar out of you too!"

"What? I didn't do anything! I wasn't the one who cut and ran! And there's no one else here but me and the guys."

"Is that what you think I did? It was work, Theo. I left you a message. What do you mean there's no one else? That isn't what Pretty Boy said!"

"He was just trying to protect me and get you to leave. The message you left wasn't worth shit." I'd listened to it enough that I could recite it by heart. "'Hi, Theo. It's me. Um… I can't make it tonight. I'll call you, okay?'" I made the words mocking, trying to conceal the hurt that was ripping through me all over again. "Only you fucking didn't. What was I supposed to think?"

"You're an idiot, you know that, Bascopolis? You've known Mark Vincent for what, ten years, twelve years now? You know when work is involved he can disappear at any time and be gone for weeks. That's my job too! If you can deal with him being away, why is it such a problem with me?"

"Because I don't fucking love him!" I yelled. Oh, great. I smacked myself in the head. Way to give him your heart on a platter, Bascopolis. "Oh, fuck!"

He blinked, opened his mouth, shut it and blinked again. "So, that means what? You love me?"

"Don't let it bother you, Matheson. I'll get over it." I wished he'd leave. I was going to fall apart and start crying in a minute, and I didn't want him to see how he'd broken my heart.

"Yeah? You think I'll let you?"

"Huh?" It was my turn to blink.

He shoved me into the bathroom and turned on the shower. "I've got a newsflash for you, babe. If I couldn't get things sorted out with you… " He got my clothes off, his nose wrinkling. I'd spilled retsina all over them, and… well, I hadn't exactly changed them in a while. "I was going to make you return something of mine you've got. Get in." He pointed to the shower.

"What are you talking about?" I got in. Goddamn, the water was hot. He always did like it… I stopped that train of thought and turned the cold faucet, making the spray more temperate. "I don't have anything of yours!"

"No?" In seconds he was in the shower with me. His arms bracketed my head, and he leaned forward to lick my lips. "My heart, Theo. You've got my heart."

Did that mean…

Wills slid to his knees before me, nuzzled my groin, and took my cock into his mouth.

Oh, jesus, when had he learned to suck cock like that? I must have said something out loud, because he let my cock slip from his lips, grinned up at me, and pushed the hair back off his forehead.

"You just assumed, babe. I was never fucked, but I sucked cock. I was damn good at it too, if… "

My fingers pressed against his lips. I didn't want to hear about his other lovers. I'd never had one, just a shit load of men who had fucked me. "And you… you don't want to break up with me?"

"Never, Theo!" And he went back to sucking my cock.

Any thought I could have dredged up after that went flying out of my head. I was down for the count, and I didn't care.

****

"Theo?"

"Mmm?" I was sprawled half along the bottom of the tub and half over the side, shaking in the aftermath of the most amazing sex I'd ever had.

After he'd given me the blowjob to top all blowjobs… man, Franky could have taken lessons from him! I shivered and shoved all thoughts of Franky out of my mind. Afterwards, Wills had spun me around, bent me over, and fucked me until we'd actually run out of all the hot water. I'd had hot water heaters put in for every floor, and this was the first time in all the time we'd lived here that it had been all used up.

"C'mon, babe. You're shivering."

I glanced over my shoulder and gave him a lazy grin. "Only because of what you've done to me. Jesus, Wills. Where'd you have the condom and lube stashed?"

He grinned and pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Get up, Theo. You're pruning up." He turned off the water.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope." He hauled me to my feet – I'd never have thought he was that strong – and helped me out of the tub. "Let's get you dried off, okay, babe?"

"And then?"

"And then could we maybe get some sleep? I haven't slept in… " He yawned, took a towel off the bar, and wrapped it around me, running it over me.

"Um… Wills?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Uh… When you go out of town, do you have your place set up so the… the lights, say, will go on automatically?"

"Sure." He took another towel and dried himself with quick, efficient movements. "And I've got the radio set to go on for an hour in the morning and the TV for a couple of hours in the afternoon." Ah hah! Bingo! "Why?"

"Just wondering."

He yawned again and rubbed the towel over his hair. "Can we go to bed now?"

"Yeah. Wills. I'm sorry."

"So am I." He took my arm and studied it. "You're gonna have bruises."

Son of a bitch, I was! I hadn't realized he'd been gripping my arm so tightly.

"I should have told you before, Theo."

"Told me what?"

"How much you mean to me."

"You… you really love me?"

"You bet your ass I do."

"But why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'?"

"You know what I've… how I've made a living for the past twelve years."

I thought that he looked sad, but then his expression smoothed out and became simply inquiring. "Yeah. So?"

"Wills!"

"Theo, I'm really wiped. Can you give me some time to think about it?"

"Yeah. I guess. Uh… How much time?"

"Forty, fifty years?"

Was he saying that was how long he wanted to stay with me? I pounced on him and pulled him into a hug. Maybe it really didn't matter to him.

"Let's go to bed."

But we didn't get much sleep.

****

"Theo, what are you doing for Memorial Day?" Wills asked the next morning as he sipped the coffee I'd made for him.

"If we're not working, we usually go down to the Mall and watch the fireworks display. Want to come with me this year?"

"Actually, I was going up to Cambridge to spend the weekend with my family."

"Oh. Sure." Things were okay between us, he'd told me they were, but of course there would be times when he'd want to be with his family. "Well, maybe some other time…"

"Theo, I'd like you to come with me."

I felt as if I couldn't catch my breath. He did? "What will your family say?"

"'How do you do?' Truthfully, I don't know. I've never brought anyone home to meet them."

"What, not even when you were in college?"

"Nope. So, will you come? And no double entendres, wiseass!"

I hadn't even thought to come up with a retort. I was so stunned by the speed with which this was all happening. One minute my heart was breaking, and the next it was filled to overflowing. He wanted me to meet his family! "I'd… I'd like to, Wills…"

"Cool. I'll call my stepmom and let her know we'll be there."

"You have a stepmother? Are your parents divorced?"

"No, my mother was killed in an accident when I was five. Jill's the best. You're going to love her."

"If you say so."

So that was who the woman in the photo had been. I left the room to give him some privacy, but I hovered just outside the door. If she was like the stepmothers in fairly tales and was going to try to drive a wedge between us, I wanted to know as soon as possible.

He chatted a bit, catching up on family news, then said, "Listen, Jill, I'm calling about the family picnic. I'll be there, and I'd like to bring someone home with me. The thing is, I… uh…I think I'm going to need you to run interference with Dad for me, Jill. Um…" He paused, listening to something she said, then took a breath. "Actually, Jill, he's a guy. And he'll be sleeping in my bedroom." He was quiet for a moment.

Shit. This was where she said no way, no son of mine is gonna be gay, even if Wills wasn't her biological son.

"Jill?"

I couldn't stop myself. I stepped into the doorway. "What's wrong?"

For a long second his expression was tense, but then it relaxed into an easy smile, and he gave me a sign to let me know it was okay. "I… I've never felt this for anyone before. He means a lot to me." I did? I wondered if my grin was as sappy as it felt. "His name is Theo Bascopolis. I met him when I was… visiting someone in G.W. Hospital a couple of months ago, he's not working right now, and if my apartment wasn't so cruddy, I'd invite him to move in with me."

I wouldn't have called it 'cruddy', but it wasn't as nice as this one. And why hadn't I thought to ask him to move in with me before now? Well, that could be corrected. "If that's all that's stopping you, babe, you can move in here!"

He flushed and looked like a little boy who'd suddenly realized that there really was a Santa Claus. He came toward me, only stopping when the length of the phone cord jerked him to a halt.

"Excuse me?" he said into the phone. "Oh, he's more than nice. He's…" His flush deepened. "So, Jill… can you talk to Dad for me? Kind of prepare him? You know how he reacted when JR decided he wanted to go Goth! This will make him go ballistic."

I came into the room and heard the faint sibilance over the phone line.

"Uh… Jill…" He paused and listened, gnawing on his lower lip. Then he smiled, and I knew that if he ever directed a smile like that in my direction, I'd be ready to slay dragons for him. "Love you more. Bye." He hung up the phone and grinned at me. "Jill thinks you sound nice, Theo. She'll let my Dad know how things stand between us."

"Will he be all right with it, do you think?" In spite of the fact that it was a warm May day, I felt cold. What if it came to the point where Mr. Matheson gave his son an ultimatum – his family or me? I couldn't expect Wills to choose me over them. How could I? I was just a former rentboy. And on top of that, he'd only known me for a couple of months…

"He will when Jill gets done with him!" Wills came to me and put his arms around me.

"What am I missing here?"

"Jill is going to make dinner for Dad."

"And?"

"My stepmother is great, and she loves to cook. She's got a shelf filled with cookbooks by Julia Child, Emeril Lagasse, Wolfgang Puck; she collects them, and she has binders filled with recipes that she cuts out of newspapers and magazines. She really intends to try them sooner or later. The only problem is, she couldn't find her way around a kitchen if her life depended on it." He smiled as if remembering something. "She can't even boil water without scorching it! She burned spaghetti! That's why we have a cook."

"I'm sorry, I still don't get it."

"Jill has no idea! She's the most wonderful woman in the world, but she has this blind spot: she really thinks she's a good cook."

"Wills, I'm a good cook.