3. Crossing Lines #3
“This… it has to stay here. In the cabin. Veil Lake is—” He paused, choosing.
“Like I said, people know me here. My mom’s here.
My sister goes to school here.” His voice was level, no apology in it, just the fact delivered straight.
“It’s not that I’m ashamed. Of me. Of you. It’s just… complicated.”
Caleb sat with that. The two years of staying, the job taken up without complaint, the scholarship set down, the things found in Ottawa that had to be left behind.
Connor’s silence was not the same as Caleb’s, not exactly.
There was no divine finger pointing from the ceiling, no fear of hell that Caleb could see.
But there was love in it, and obligation, and people who needed Connor to stay constant to them. Reliable.
“I understand,” Caleb said.
“Do you?”
“I’m not out to anyone but my sister. And even with her it’s—” He stopped. “It’s not as though we’ve even really talked about it.”
Connor was silent long enough for his shoulders to loosen. “There’s time,” he said. “Talk to her about it.”
The fire had settled into its low rhythm. Outside, the dark was coming down over the pines and the lake, erasing the edges of things. Caleb was aware of Connor’s hand cupped against his face, the warmth of it, the weight.
“I’m not asking for anything,” Connor said. “I just wanted you to know where I am.”
“I know where you are,” Caleb said.
Connor’s hand was already starting to drop from his jaw. Caleb caught his wrist, holding it there against his own face. The pulse raced beneath his fingers.
Connor searched Caleb’s face. “Caleb,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to prove anything. Not to me.”
Caleb kept Connor’s wrist where it was, his thumb resting against the warm skin. “I’m not proving anything.” His voice held firm. “I want you. That’s all this is.”
Connor’s pulse slowed under his thumb before he leaned in.
The next kiss was deeper, slower, and more intentional.
Caleb pushed forward, one hand sliding into the dark curls at the nape of Connor’s neck.
Connor answered with a low sound, his free hand settling at Caleb’s waist, thumb brushing skin where his shirt had ridden up.
They shifted on the couch, knees bumping.
Caleb laughed once, breathless, when Connor’s elbow caught the armrest. The small awkwardness only made him want more.
Caleb pulled back long enough to shrug off his flannel and tug his t-shirt over his head.
Cool air hit his chest. He reached for Connor’s hoodie next.
Connor lifted his arms, letting him pull it off.
Caleb set both palms flat against Connor’s chest, feeling the solid muscle, the dark hair, the quick thud of his heart beneath it all.
Connor’s breath changed. His cock was already hard against Caleb’s hip, thick and warm through the remaining layers.
Connor caught Caleb’s wrist, not stopping him, just holding on as his breath hitched. “You’re killing me,” he muttered, voice rough, then kissed him again, harder.
They stood up from the couch together. Caleb’s knee bumped the edge of the coffee table and it was Connor’s turn to let out a short, breathless laugh against Caleb’s mouth.
Connor steadied him with a hand at his waist, smiling into the kiss, and the small clumsiness somehow made everything feel more solid, more present.
They stayed there, bare chests pressed together, the fire crackling low behind them.
Connor’s fingers moved to the button of Caleb’s jeans. He paused there, thumb brushing just above the waistband, eyes lifting to meet Caleb’s. “Still okay?” he asked quietly.
Caleb swallowed, looking up into Connor’s face, then nodded once before finding his voice. “Yeah. I want this. Keep going.”
The button came open under Connor’s practiced hand.
The zipper sounded loud in the quiet cabin.
Connor eased the denim down Caleb’s hips, taking his time, and Caleb stepped out of one leg, then the other, kicking the jeans aside.
His socks came off next, one after the other, and then he was standing there in his underwear, the firelight catching on his skin.
He felt the exposure like a current along his nerves.
Connor looked at him openly, no rush in it, desire clear in the set of his mouth and the way his gaze moved over Caleb’s body.
There was no judgment in it. Caleb’s cock twitched visibly against the thin fabric at being taken in by his gaze.
He reached for Connor’s jeans with hands that were less steady than he would have liked.
Connor let him, arms loose at his sides, patient.
Caleb worked the button open, then the zipper, and pushed the heavy denim down.
Connor stepped out of them easily. The outline of his cock strained against his dark boxer briefs, thick and unmistakable.
Caleb’s mouth went dry at the sight. He reached out tentatively, then ran his palm over the hard length once, feeling the heat of him, and Connor made a rough sound low in his throat.
“Caleb,” Connor said, voice low and strained, and Caleb thrilled to hear his name spoken by a man, thick with desire.
They moved toward the bedroom in small stages, stopping twice more to kiss.
The first time it was Connor backing him gently against the doorframe, mouth on his neck, one broad hand sliding down Caleb’s back to cup his ass through the underwear.
The second time Caleb pushed forward, pressing Connor against the wall just inside the short hallway, tasting the salt on his skin and feeling the way Connor’s hips thrust once against him.
By the time they reached the bedroom, they were both breathing hard, underwear the only thing left between them.
Connor paused inside the room with one hand on Caleb’s hip. Caleb nearly asked what he was thinking. Then Connor’s thumb pressed once into his side, and Caleb decided he did not need the answer yet.
They crossed the last few steps to the bed together.
“Hold on.” Connor opened the nightstand, moved aside a flashlight and two spare batteries, and came back with lube and a condom. He set both where he could reach them.
Caleb reached for him. “I want this. I want you.”
Connor laid him down on the bed. Caleb reached for him as he followed, fingers catching at Connor’s ribs, not wanting him too far away yet.
Connor kissed his way down Caleb’s body: throat, chest, stomach.
Hooking his thumbs under the band of Caleb’s underwear, Connor slowly pulled them down and off, Caleb’s length slapping against his stomach.
Connor took Caleb into his mouth. Caleb grabbed the sheet and pulled it loose from the corner of the mattress. On the next stroke his hips lifted too far; Connor put a forearm across him and continued without breaking pace.