Lace

Chapter 1 #2

But that was how it worked. Uncle Jase was the high school football coach, and Caleb lived with him.

You just went to the games—no discussion as to whether he even liked football.

Thank God he’d already been ensconced in the high school’s music program when he’d moved in with Jase.

His importance to numerous bands meant he hadn’t been expected to try out for any sports.

Especially not football. He’d have been crushed, literally.

Humiliated, absolutely. Maybe that was why Uncle Jase had never mentioned it.

Caleb’s humiliation would have been the coach’s, too, and that would never do.

He squirmed now, ass going a little numb on the metal bleachers. At least he was warm here, and not bored, miserable and freezing his ass off. The game would be over soon then he and Levi could make their escape.

Once alone in the dorm room, he could remind Levi of some of the things that made them a smoking couple, none of which had anything to do with basketball.

“Soon, babe,” Levi whispered for his ears only when the squirming became obvious.

“You’re going to make this up to me,” Caleb informed him.

Levi grinned wide. “Hope so.”

“No hoping about it. It’s happening. You’re going to put out.”

The chaste kiss next to Caleb’s ear masked the whispered, filthy “Promise” that sent a shiver down Caleb’s spine.

The promise held firm as they manoeuvred through the exiting crowd after the game.

Levi had laced their fingers together and they stuck close, shoulder-to-shoulder through the crush.

Not that it stopped people jostling them.

Caleb told himself it wasn’t personal. They were all eager to get out of the overheated gymnasium.

Then a hand slammed him firmly in the back, right between his shoulder blades, and he stumbled face first nearly into the post between the gym’s double doors. Only his quick reaction, and a hand to brace himself stopped his face impacting the metal.

Not an accident. Deliberate, under cover of the milling crowd.

Caleb pursed his lips, dropped his shoulder to get around the post, and brought it up under the perpetrator’s chin without stopping.

The guy was one of Shank’s buddies, and he shouted at the impact, stopping traffic as he clutched his jaw.

Levi frowned at Caleb. He hated physical altercations.

“Oops,” Caleb growled.

“Hey!” Shank shouted, a hard grip on Caleb’s shoulder yanking him back.

Caleb twisted away freeing his hand from Levi’s. “Fuck off, Shank,” he snarled, willing Levi not to turn around.

“Got a problem?” Shank’s voice barked challenge, and his face was set in a mask of righteous anger.

Caleb wished with every bone in his body that he could let it go. The guy sounded like a fifth grader and it shouldn’t matter. But it did, and Caleb hated that it did.

“Keep walking, pussy-boy,” Shank said.

Caleb tensed. “Or what?” And now who sounded like a fifth grader?

Shank pointed to his friend, still poking at his jaw tenderly. The guy was shorter than Caleb by a full head, though built heavier, muscle covered by a layer of flab. “How do you feel about picking on someone your own size?” Shank asked.

“Give it your best shot, asshole.” Caleb peeled lips off clenched teeth, tightened his fingers into fists and faced the bigger man. “Back that shit up or get out of my face.”

“Caleb.” Levi’s hand curled around his tight fist. “Let’s go.”

“He started it.”

“Walk away,” Levi said, prying one fist open and inserting his own hand there.

The jerk facing them glanced at their clasped hands and Caleb shifted, uncomfortably aware of the lace peeking from the bottom of Levi’s borrowed hoodie. He stepped sideways, hiding his connection to Levi, but unwilling to give it up.

“Not anyone’s business,” Levi said, keeping his voice low and his gaze on Caleb’s face. “Let’s just go.”

Shank’s lips curled, but he said nothing.

Reluctant to turn his back on the bully, Caleb still flexed the hand Levi had in his and tightened his grip. “Not worth it,” he managed through clenched teeth, and almost could have meant it, if only for the sake of not fighting in front of Levi.

“No,” Levi agreed. “He’s not.”

Being dragged off by his lover to where the crowd was thinner and Shank had been left behind didn’t sit well with Caleb. He fought his own battles. Always had. But Levi wasn’t loosening his grip and Caleb didn’t want to pull away.

“Why do you let them get to you?” Levi asked. Exasperation bled through his words.

The small hairs on the back of Caleb’s neck rose. “I know you don’t understand.”

“Don’t, Caleb,” Levi warned. “You don’t want me to assume I know what you’ve been through? Don’t assume you know what I have.”

Caleb glared at his lover, but with little heat. “Be reasonable, why don’t you?” he groused, impressed under his annoyance how Levi always managed to be so calm.

Levi grinned. “It’s what I do.”

“I know.” Caleb leaned down and pecked his cheek. “It’s irritating.” But he managed a smile through the anger still simmering in his gut.

“And you love me despite my irritating qualities.” Levi looked smug. “Like I love you and yours.”

Caleb frowned. Was that a dig? Some veiled hint about the hidden lace? He wasn’t sure.

“What’s going on in there?” Levi touched a fingertip to Caleb’s forehead.

“Nothing.” Caleb jerked away from the touch. “It’s just. Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” The sweatshirt had been a sweet gesture, right? One of protection, not one of embarrassment. Hadn’t it?

Levi sighed. “Don’t let that asshole get to you, Cally.” There was frustration in Levi’s gaze, but he ran a comforting hand up and down Caleb’s arm and stepped a little closer.

Caleb freed his hand. “Sometimes it feels like you don’t actually care how they treat me.”

“I don’t,” Levi said, then grimaced. “I mean, I care about you. Just that I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks. Not about you, or about us. They can all go fuck themselves.”

“Whatever.” Caleb dodged past him to stomp towards the exit and their dorm.

“While you be all hippy zen, mind if I go blow off some steam?” He hurried past the last few stragglers, crashed out the door and past the streetlamps glowing along the path into the darkened, landscaped quad and the cooling fall evening.

It shouldn’t matter. He dug his hands into the hoodie’s pockets and glared up at the velvety indigo sky.

It shouldn’t, and he knew that. But it did.

Seemed as long as he could remember, every time he turned around, someone like Larry Shank had been there with hard glares and harder fists until Caleb had learnt to fight back.

Then the needling had begun. The insidious comments, whispers, the mocking that could never be traced back to anyone specific.

They didn’t always threaten physical violence.

Not if they knew Caleb could meet them blow for blow and they might get hurt.

No. They kept the jibes just under the radar, and Caleb had no defence against that. And no proof.

All his life, he’d been taught, on the end of a pointed tongue or a brutal fist—blend in. Conform, and you won’t have a problem. Bring it up to a teacher? He was told to ‘“get along.’” Tell his father? He was informed, ‘“Drivers don’t get bullied, son.’”

His mother was too busy, too tired, too… vacant to do anything about it.

His uncle ignored it all, including when Caleb fought back physically, but then, he would. He was a physical guy himself, and he got the eat or be eaten world Caleb lived in.

Then there was Levi. Levi who he wanted to believe only meant well, only wanted good things for them, for Caleb. But who never quite said out loud that Caleb’s quirks were okay.

Snarling, he ground his fists deeper and kicked at a soda can, sending it clanking along the paved path.

He was twenty-three years old and bullies still made him want to run and hide…

or turn and swing. And now it was Levi telling him it didn’t matter and he should just walk away.

Because Levi didn’t look gay. Didn’t act gay, probably didn’t seem gay until he was side-by-side with Caleb.

Then he could be the bigger person because he hadn’t been subjected to this shit since he was old enough to even know what gay really was.

But then…

Caleb fingered the frill peeking from the hem of the hoodie.

It wasn’t about his being gay. That was just the icing.

Shifting his shoulders, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the scratchy delight of lace moving over the skin of his back.

It felt good. And right. It reminded him why he stood up and punched back.

Because at the end of the day, that slide of fabric over skin, the firm confinement of nylon on smooth legs, cupping him safely—that was a source of peace and a scrap of self-indulgence no one could rip from him, even if he was the only one who knew it was there.

He tipped his head back and sighed. They could beat him up however they wanted. They could never take that away or change who he was.

“Cally?” Strong, gentle hands clasped his shoulders and began to knead.

It took only the instance of a breath before Caleb leaned back against Levi’s broad chest. The darkness hid them from view, and Levi let his hands drift down over Caleb’s front.

He nuzzled into Caleb’s neck. “Babe, I know it hurts. I wish I could make that go away.”

Closing his eyes, Caleb caressed Levi’s arms and the other man’s hands moved slowly, skimming over his chest. Maybe he did know, maybe he didn’t. But he did make it go away. At least for a little while, Caleb felt like he belonged there in Levi’s arms, and that had to be enough.

“Forget it,” Caleb whispered, searching for the balance that would let him spring back and put the taunts out of his head. He turned and captured Levi’s face between his hands. If he couldn’t find the balance inside, at least he knew how to plough ahead and find a different equilibrium.

He didn’t speak again, just kissed, plying Levi with determined passion until his lips parted allowing Caleb to plunder his mouth. And there was that gratifying moan, the little gasps and pants that told him Levi didn’t care about anything but how he was being kissed.

They fumbled a few tripping steps until Levi’s back stopped up against the thick bole of a leafless maple. Caleb pinned him there, hard, demanding, lurching his hips into Levi’s until he felt the heavy thickness of Levi’s cock through his jeans.

“Wanna fuck you right here,” Caleb muttered, threading fingers through Levi’s hair and holding his head back against the tree trunk. He smeared kisses along Levi’s jaw and down his throat, prised one knee between Levi’s legs and rubbed.

There was something about how Levi’s grip loosened—his hands on Caleb’s arms went from a hard grip to softer, his moans lost their coherency but gained a high fever pitch of urgency and Levi’s body strained to find more contact with Caleb.

“Want…” Levi panted and thrust his hips forward. “Oh fuck, Cally…” He wrapped his arms around Caleb’s waist and moved against him with a kind of abandon that ratcheted up Caleb’s own excitement.

Off to Caleb’s right, voices drifted along, footsteps sounded on the paved path and he plastered his mouth over Levi’s to muffle the volume of his desperate words. The voices passed without slowing and Caleb released Levi’s mouth.

“Someone is going to hear you, babe,” he whispered, lips close enough to Levi’s ear to feather tiny caresses over the sensitive organ.

Levi shivered. “Don’t…”—his hips jerked harder and he fumbled until his hands were under the hoodie and spread flat across the lace back of Caleb’s hidden vest—“care. Fuck.” He dropped his head onto Caleb’s chest, his forehead banging hard against Caleb’s collarbone. “Feels good. Fuck me.”

“In the school yard?” Caleb pulled his head back again to look in his eyes. “You gonna come?”

Levi’s gaze was unfocused and dark.

Caleb didn’t think he’d even heard the question. The delicate top tightened around his chest as Levi pulled handfuls of the flimsy material into fists and wrapped a leg up around Caleb’s thighs.

“Come on,” Caleb encouraged his lover’s frantic thrusting and plucked tiny nips along his lips. “Finish. Let me see it.”

There was just enough light for Caleb to see the flush rise in Levi’s cheeks and the way his lips parted to let out a deep, guttural growl.

His body went rigid and his hips spasmed a few times.

Caleb felt his top give at the seams under Levi’s grip just before Levi went limp, trusting his weight to the tree and Caleb’s hold.

“Fuck.” Levi ran his hands in circles over the lacy top he’d torn. “Sorry.” he nuzzled his head under Caleb’s chin and let his leg drop back to the ground. “I’ll fix it.”

Caleb chuckled. The day that Levi—with his thick fingers and studious but clumsy groping—managed to summon the dexterity to thread a needle and sew was a distant, airy dream.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shifted his stance to better hold his lover’s weight without crushing him against the tree while he waited for Levi to recover his own balance.

“Yes, it matters,” Levi mumbled.

Eventually, Caleb pulled back and looked into his lover’s eyes. “This matters,” he said quietly, caressing Levi’s face. “Just this.” He didn’t want to think about the clothes or the feelings they invoked. He just wanted this calm they had between them. He willed Levi to agree with him.

Levi nodded. “Okay.” Levi grinned. “I thought you were going to fuck me…”

“Come on.” This time, Caleb took Levi’s hand and led him off through the grass, ignoring the lighted pathways and hauling him towards the dorms and Levi’s room by the shortest route possible. “Better get you out of these messy undies.”

Levi snickered and followed willingly.