Take It Outside (Trailhead #1)

17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Beau

I t takes me too long to notice the teardrops tripping over the stubble on Adrian’s jaw, but as soon as I do, I take his hand and drag him out of the way of the hikers coming and going nearby. He hasn’t taken a picture of the waterfall yet, but there will be time for that later. Hell, we can stay here all damn day if he wants it from every possible angle and in every possible light.

I just need to make sure he’s okay first.

Pulling Adrian behind the waterfall means we’re still visible to the half dozen others in awe of the beauty around us, but it feels private too, and when I crowd him against a wall of rock, the rest of the world disappears. I press a kiss to his cheek, my lips wet when he tenses.

“I never fucking cry, and now you’ve seen it happen twice,” he mutters. “What is wrong with me?”

“Aside from your terribly inaccurate use of the word never ? ”

“Beau.”

“Listen, I cry all the time, and if you’d stayed awake during It’s a Wonderful Life , you would’ve been treated to a hell of a show,” I tell him. “I deflect with jokes when I can, but I’m a whole-ass mess the rest of the time, and if it’ll help you, I’ll start sobbing now.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. What’re you crying about?”

Adrian rolls his eyes and I kiss him again, the mist of the waterfall incapable of washing away pasts we both know we won’t let go, if only because neither of us would know what to do with empty hands.

“Levi would’ve loved it here.”

“I’m sorry he didn’t get the chance to see it. These falls have healed at least a couple of my wounds.”

“Guess I shouldn’t bother asking how many other guys you’ve brought on this hike?”

I take a deep breath. “You should not.”

“Because it’s zero.”

“Because it’s zero,” I echo.

Adrian nods and wipes his face with his sleeve. He’d pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head when I sought shelter here, and they keep that stubborn lock of hair out of his way while he looks at me.

I think I’d envy them if I weren’t allowed to touch him elsewhere now.

“Tell me we’re not gonna fuck this up all over again. ”

“Is this the ‘us’ conversation you wanted to have before?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Adrian shrugs. “I just—I want you. But from that very first night, it feels like we’ve done everything wrong.”

“Mmmm, I’m not sure we’ve done everything wrong, and I don’t think we’re gonna start doing everything right. Trailhead fucked with us a little, but I still love that damn place, and leaving there was never gonna be the solution to a problem that ran a lot deeper than that.”

“What problem?”

“Mine?” I huff. “I got scared and lonely and left a hundred pieces of myself with strangers.”

“And mine?”

“You got scared and lonely and left a hundred pieces of yourself with the man you loved.”

Adrian reaches for me, his hand pressed to my beard and his thumb tracing my lips, like maybe whatever he heard is something he needs to absorb another way, too. For a second or two, I’m afraid he’ll rush to say something he doesn’t mean—a defense of his feelings for Levi or a promise that he can do it all over again—but then he leans in to kiss me, and everything about it reassures me of things I didn’t really need to know and wouldn’t have dared to ask.

When he pulls away, he flattens his palm against my chest. “Do you mind if I take some time here? For pictures, I guess. And for—”

He shakes his head and leaves so many things left unsaid, but most of them feel obvious, and I curl my hand around his. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

With the smallest nod to punctuate my promise, I stay tucked behind the waterfall, and though Adrian first raises his camera while he’s still within arm’s reach, it’s not long before he goes in search of moments I won’t be able to see from where I stand. Then again, I suppose plenty of what he’s looking for isn’t visible at all, and it’s unfair to him that I feel any urge to go back on my word just to hold him now.

I’ll leave him to it and miss everyone on my own.

Several minutes pass and join a lifetime of memories, and everything around me is quiet except for the gentle roar of the falls. By the time Adrian returns, I’m smiling for him, and I feel him smile back when his mouth finds the curve of my neck, his breath warm where my skin has become cold.

“Ready to head back down?” he murmurs as he drifts away again.

I’m very ready, and I think he is too, both of us sparing one last look at the waterfall as we walk past it hand in hand. Once it’s behind us, it’s no surprise that the path back down the mountain gives us very few reasons to stumble over more than a minor obstacle or two. Our conversation is lighter when we bother with it at all, but we’re comfortable in the silence, too. It gives me time to think about the ways heartache is unremarkable, nothing about a lifetime of what ifs mine to claim alone, and nothing about terrible choices to be taken as proof of a destiny I’ve never believed in. Any hell I’ve endured before and after Luca or Darren or Adrian has been a personal one, and not a profound loss I get to inflict upon the rest of the world. And it belongs to me, certainly, but I wonder whether I haven’t been a little selfish about that part of it too, forgetting that the whole fucking world aches with something of its own.

I turn around when we finally get to the bottom of the mountain, and I leave at least a few feelings in the dirt, maybe to be uncovered years from now by someone who feels like digging.

When I look at Adrian, I hope he can leave something behind, too.

He tugs me forward then, and the ride back to the apartment becomes fun, the music played louder and the windows open wider and our laughter a living thing he might capture in a picture someday. When we’re back inside an hour later, we’re both tired and not, and maybe hungry more than anything, and it takes me a moment to think as practically as possible.

“I wouldn’t normally call dibs on the shower when we both need one, but I’m gonna take a quick one first, and then you can relax in there for as long as you want while I make breakfast.”

Adrian’s dark blue eyes lock with mine. “Relax in your shower, hmmm? Any suggestions for how to do that?”

“None at all,” I say, my voice remarkably steady. “But if you come up with anything, please relax loudly enough for me to hear you.”

I walk away then because I know my limits, and he sits with his camera while I grab clean clothes and shut myself in the bathroom. The scalding spray helps reset whichever of my thoughts needs it, and then I’m out and changed into joggers and a tank top I picked up in Tahoe years ago, a chaste kiss pressed to the top of Adrian’s head before I leave him to his shower and move into the kitchen on my own.

I pull all the dishes I need and get everything ready, and small bowls of the fresh fruit Adrian brought are prepared and set aside. I’m just cracking the last of the eggs for our omelets when he returns, reaching around me for a strawberry before I can swat his hand away.

“Come on,” I growl, stupidly fond about it. “I know you’re a hell of a lot more patient than that.”

I feel the tip of Adrian’s nose against the back of my neck and shiver when he speaks. “Mmmm, you’re right. Just gonna make us some coffee while you do—whatever magic you’re doing.”

After double checking to make sure I have the rest of the omelet ingredients at my fingertips, I can’t help but watch Adrian move around the small space for a moment, so comfortable in a place still unfamiliar to him, spontaneous tequila shots notwithstanding. He’s wearing a deep green t-shirt and gray sweatpants now, and there’s something about making breakfast while we’re both so cozy that makes me dizzy, but it’s good and I’m good and we’re good, so I refocus on sliced mushrooms and crumbled feta and a pile of baby spinach. I throw some sourdough into the toaster and work to fill our plates with better omelets than I’ve made in a while, garnishing both just because I can.

“Bon appétit,” I say, delivering Adrian’s food to the table before I make the few strides back to the kitchen for my own, a full mug of coffee waiting for me at the table already .

The next few minutes are filled with nothing but the tap of our forks, the thud of our mugs, and more than an occasional hum of pleasure as we eat. We really had been hungry, and our stomachs are loud about it for a while, and as much as it feels so good to just sit with our breakfast and no immediate need for more than that, eventually Adrian curls a finger around mine. When he cocks his head, his smile is soft and closer to shy than anything I’ve seen from him.

“Thank you.”

“Guess you’re not referring to the hot shower, clean clothes, and overstuffed omelet?”

Adrian grins and takes his hand back just to dig back into his breakfast. “This fucking omelet. Gotta be careful or I’m gonna start inviting myself over a lot more often.”

“That’s not exactly a threat,” I say, the tip of my tongue flicking over my bottom lip before I bring it back. “And you’re welcome, though you’ve gotta know it goes both ways. We’ve got lifetimes of shit between us, and it’s gonna take a minute for us to figure it out, but I’m glad we had this morning.”

“That waterfall was a good place to stop. I needed to set it all down for a while.”

I nod. “Baggage gets heavy when we insist on carrying it everywhere.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Now tell me about your shower.”

Adrian nearly chokes on a blueberry before raising an eyebrow. “Quite possibly the highlight of my morning. ”

“Good. You being in my shower might’ve been the highlight of my morning, too.”

“Yeah?”

I shrug. “Sure, I could get used to the whole wet hair, comfy clothes thing you’ve got goin’ on.”

“And here I was thinking you were gonna zero in on the naked part.”

“Oh, I’m always zeroed in on the naked part. Just like to be respectful about it every now and then.”

“Ah, so does that mean I shouldn’t admit to being more distracted by the idea of you in the shower than by my growling stomach? Or by my need to get cleaned up after the hike?” Adrian asks. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to be disrespectful about it.”

My eyes go wide. “You should absolutely admit it and then give me all the sordid details.”

Adrian seems to consider it for a blink or two, his tanned cheeks just barely pink, but then he shakes his head and uses his fork to gesture toward my plate. “Finish up before I run off to take a nap on that ridiculous couch of yours.”

I let my next obvious quip go, and then it’s easy to eat the rest of our breakfast and clear the table and top off our coffees. There’s a moment after that though, when we’re still in the kitchen and close enough to touch, and Adrian must know he has the opportunity to go home instead. That I’d do nothing to stop him when there’s no real reason for him to stick around. No food to eat or mountains to climb or people to watch. Probably no more stories to share—not after a morning like ours. We have time for that, but it’s nothing that has to be accomplished today.

I’d do nothing to stop him from leaving, but maybe I catch a flicker of hope and a plea he won’t make, and decide to encourage Adrian to stay, walking toward my living room without waiting to see whether he’ll follow.

“You know, the couch wasn’t a bad idea.”

Dropping onto cushions more comfortable than most people’s beds, I rest my head on one of the large throw pillows and stretch my body out from there. My joggers are slung low on my hips, a sliver of my stomach visible from where Adrian has moved to stand next to me.

I only notice it because he hasn’t found a reason to look away from my bare skin.

I’ve only just looked away from his sweatpants.

It’s tempting to wait and see what he does next, my chest rising and falling under the weight of his stare, but I give up and hold out a hand, Adrian taking it easily and letting himself be pulled into my lap. He straddles me without question, so similar to the way we’d started the last time he was here, except that I’m mostly horizontal now, and he’s being given forever to look down at where I lie, finally surrendering to something when he drags a fingertip over the bit of my stomach that’s still visible to him. He watches himself for a few seconds, then raises his head, my gaze ready to hold him there for however long he needs, and when his brow furrows, I think maybe a look isn’t going to be enough.

I softly shake my head. “Take your time, for both of us.”

“Thought you wanted to hear all of my sordid shower thoughts,” Adrian teases, his voice just barely above a whisper.

“You can take your time with that, too.”

Adrian takes a deep breath, and I pretend I don’t notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows too hard, his fingers slipping beneath my shirt—his other hand there a moment later—slow as he explores the softness of my stomach. I’m healthy and strong and could so easily meet the demands of anything his body might crave, but I’m not all tight lines and unforgiving muscle these days. Still, he seems mesmerized by how his touch seems to drown in the expanse of my belly, and in the hair there too, his fingertips following the line that disappears under the waistband of my sweatpants before they crawl up to my chest.

And then he wants to see it.

He begins to tug at my tank top, inching it higher until I sit up enough to give him the room he needs to get rid of it entirely, and before I can lie down again, Adrian meets me there for a kiss neither one of us deepens. I’m glad for it, I think, when he backs away to focus on the tattoo splayed over my side, one he’d ignored the night tequila had made him tipsy and he wouldn’t have appreciated it anyway, brushing his thumb against my skin when he holds me there.

“The creek. Your first kiss with Luca” Adrian says, his fingertip following the path of the water, the blue a shade lighter than his eyes. “Is the tattoo solace or penance?”

“Probably some of both.”

My arms are next, each gently studied in turn even though they’ve been on display throughout breakfast, and probably glimpsed beneath short sleeves a time or two before. I let my eyes flutter shut, and Adrian sighs before he can stop himself from tracing the lasso wrapped around a moon on the underside of one bicep. It mostly reminds me of Christmas, for all the reasons he’s already figured out, but that doesn’t stop him from taking it a step further.

“Darren?”

“For better or for worse.”

Adrian huffs, both of us all too aware that it’ll be even more difficult for me to distance myself from heavy things if I’ve chosen to have them tattooed on my skin. Then Adrian dips lower to nuzzle against the Latin words curved over my other bicep before he straightens again.

“I’m rusty,” he mumbles. “While I breathe, I hope?”

“Well done,” I smile.

“And what is it that you hope for, Beau?”

“A hundred different things.”

His eyes flash with something—the memory of when I’d said that before, probably—and then Adrian pulls his own shirt over his head and drops it on top of where mine has fallen to the floor. He leans forward a second time, my tattoos and their meanings left alone now, and he braces himself with one hand next to my head while he combs his fingers through my still-damp hair with the other.

“This is—your hair’s so thick and beautiful, and in the shower you’d—I can imagine the way you’d have to slick it back from your forehead, soaking wet and dripping down the back of your neck. I could kiss you there—the back of your neck. I haven’t taken the time to do that.”

“Mmmm, no, you haven’t.”

I feel my heartbeat kick when he starts to massage my scalp. “Easy to imagine this too—when you’d wash your hair. Does that feel good? My fingers in your hair, touching you like this? Would you want me to help you rinse it all out, while my body’s so close to yours?”

“Naked body,” I remind him.

“Kinda the way it works, yeah,” Adrian agrees, a quiet laugh doing what it can to hide the way his voice shakes. Then he falls even further forward, his bare chest pressed to mine when his mouth skates over my beard and up toward my ear. “If that’s what we’re imagining.”

My hands rest at his waist and tighten there until I remember that we’re taking our time. “I’m imagining a whole lotta things right now.”

“Your beard,” Adrian continues, kissing along the underside of my jaw. “Didn’t really think about it before, but there’d be drops of water there, too. Ones I could follow down your neck.”

He gives himself time to chase the fantasy, tender when he sucks at my pulse point and rolls his hips, and then groaning when the soft cotton of our sweatpants gives everything away. I know the denim between us last time hadn’t hidden much, but this is different, both of us sober and sleepy and slow about whatever this is, and as soon as Adrian lifts his head to kiss me again, my arms wrap around him and might even refuse to let him go.

The kiss is almost familiar now, and I wonder if it’s the way things are supposed to be, even with a messy history crowded with other people, and I go in search of every sensation that can belong to us alone. He runs his tongue over my top lip and scrapes his teeth over the bottom one, and swallows a subtle sound before slipping another into my waiting mouth. One of my hands covers the back of his head, somehow careful one second and commanding the next, and the other draws lazy lines up and down his spine, even while I dream about the marks I could leave there if either of us wanted me to.

Adrian rocks his hips again, and I press up into him. “Christ, you feel good.”

“Even without being in the shower with you?”

I chuckle, everything about it low and gravelly when I’m this fucking turned on. “Don’t really give a shit about the shower right now. Not if I can have this.”

“This isn’t much,” Adrian argues.

“This is everything, Ade.”

A broken little noise threatens to tumble past his lips, and I’m ready, my tongue in Adrian’s mouth so I can taste it and maybe turn it into something precious. We stay like that for a long time, lost in a deep and devastating kiss that gives as much as it takes, and I’m so achingly hard that I shiver with the relief that comes with the constant pressure of his cock against mine. Nothing about it has become any faster exactly, but our rhythm is delicious, and we shift until the angle makes both of us moan, the hand on Adrian’s back sliding beneath his sweatpants and over the curve of his ass. My fingertips dig into flesh, but I swear I feel him everywhere at once, and when it’s a little too much, I pull away to leave my handprint on top of his pants instead. My decision leaves him frustrated and whimpering and curling his fingers around my waistband just to get anything else out of our way.

I nip at his lower lip and shake my head. “Let go.”

Adrian can’t respond right away, not when my hand fists in his hair and my mouth unravels him little by little and my cock is still perfectly hard where I help him grind against me. My body cradles his now, and he whimpers again when one of my legs hooks around his, a hand still kneading his ass while we rock together so goddamn slowly. It takes him another several seconds to be able to speak at all.

“We’ve gotta—I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” I murmur. “Tell me.”

“I can’t last like this.”

“M’not askin’ you to.”

“But this isn’t—” he sighs against my mouth and teases it open with his tongue and rubs our clothed cocks together again and again. I’m not sure exactly what else he wants to say to me, except that I know he doesn’t understand having this much control over a situation that would suggest we lost that long ago, and all his daydreams of how this might happen had made sure there was nothing between us at all. I love this though, being so intentionally filthy and reckless and desperate for a release that would’ve waited for us to catch up if I’d asked it to. Everything is unspeakably arousing, and I only break our kiss to address Adrian’s unfinished argument, his breath warm against my lips.

“It is, though. Whatever you were gonna say, this is that. It’s good and it’s sexy and it’s not less than or more than anything else we could be doin’ today. Not the way you’re worried about. You’re gonna make me come. Your body—fuck, I love the way your body fits on top of mine. I love how hard your cock gets for me, and I love that you can come for me like this. I want you to come for me like this. There will be so many other things we do together. Times I can suck your dick, or you can fuck me absolutely senseless, or all of that the other way around. But so much of that will be just like it was before, and maybe not everything should be. Maybe we can let ourselves have something like this, too.”

And— fuck . Adrian’s entire body trembles, and I keep talking long enough to calm him down and light him all the way up. We kiss again, an incredibly obscene thing except for all the ways it’s almost stupidly intimate, and with my help, Adrian continues to grind against me, our pants a barrier that feels nothing like one. It’s hot between us—or it probably has been for a while—our bodies slick with sweat and anticipation and the kind of bone-deep need I’ve only felt a handful of times in my life, and we stay wrapped up in each other, a hundred small sounds the best we have to offer after we’ve used up all our words.

I’m so close though, approaching this beautifully deliberate end more quickly than I’d like to be, our kisses becoming sloppier when we can’t do more than pant into each other’s mouths. I know Adrian’s close too, his rhythm stuttering while he goes after whatever he needs from me, but when his head falls to my shoulder, his tongue and teeth at my neck, I groan and tug at his hair until we’re able to look at each other again.

I’ve heard him come twice, but I want to watch him today.

“Yes, god, I—” Adrian can’t manage more than that, but when my mouth drops open, he reaches for it, fingertips dragging over the space just in case he can capture the next noise I make.

And maybe the thought of it is all either of us needs, Adrian tensing just before waves of pleasure roll through him. He gives himself over to it until I have no choice but to do the same, coming hard as the front of my joggers becomes sticky and wet, and I'm met with the same from where he lies on top of me. Even when his body stops shuddering, it seems impossible for us to stay wholly still, and I feel another aftershock or two in the lazy thrust of his hips. Something in me tries to respond, Adrian chuckling about it as he finally collapses against my chest.

“You cannot be laughing at me right now,” I huff.

“Fuck no,” Adrian says. “Just kinda delirious, I think.”

My grip on him loosens, but neither of us moves much more than that, even with the shared mess between us. At least not until I’m the one who starts laughing.

“Figures we’d kick all this off by fantasizing about a shower, then do a bunch of shit that will now require us to shower, but that has also left us without the energy to do any of the stuff we might’ve been fantasizing about in the first place. ”

“S’okay,” Adrian smiles into my skin. “You already said we’ll have time for everything else. No need to worry about more today. Though I’m not sure the clean clothes I changed into are all that clean anymore. Don’t suppose you have any shorts that might fit me?”

“Mmmm, yeah, I can make something happen. And what about napping together? Think we can try that, too?”

“Five minutes for me to shower, five minutes for you to shower—so I’ll meet you back here in ten?”

I pull him back down for one more kiss, then hum against his lips. “Can’t wait.”