Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
It rained most of the way back from the funeral.
After the earlier flood of chatter, Newt had gone quiet and River stayed silent.
Rain always made River feel as if the sky was dissolving and blunting the edges of the world, like a watercolour painting running off a canvas.
He sighed. Maybe he ought to get out those art materials Harry had sent and he and Newt could paint together. Us in the buff?
But today that thought didn’t even make him smile.
Rain suited their mood. River wanted the day washed away.
He was proud of Newt for standing up and speaking about his brother in such a positive way.
He couldn’t have done that at his father’s funeral, even if he’d gone.
He had no idea whether anyone had attended.
The sad thing was that he did have happy memories of his father, but they’d been tainted by what he’d done.
He knew Newt was correct about him not being in his right mind, but River was a long way from forgiving him.
River hadn’t spoken at the funeral of his mother and sisters. He’d been crying too much. He wished he’d been able to say something. Instead, his words had come when he’d scattered their ashes off a cliff into the sea, letting his love fly away with them. Max had been at his side.
Newt pulled the car into the garage but didn’t move after the door had rolled down.
“Newt?” River asked cautiously.
“Do we have any rubber gloves?”
What? “Sounds a bit f…freaky.”
“The blood.” Newt’s voice was quiet.
Oh shit. “Sorry. No. Max paid a c…cleaning team after police had done.”
Newt exhaled. “Right. Are you hungry?”
Not now I’ve thought of that. “I should be but I’m not.”
“I’m the same.”
River took hold of his hand. “Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long, hard day.”
They kicked off their shoes in the boot room, hung up their coats and held hands all the way up the stairs.
River had felt Newt’s grip tighten as they walked past the kitchen.
Newt didn’t look in, but River felt it anyway—the hesitation, the memory lodged there like a splinter.
There was nothing to see, but if that room was going to haunt Newt, River would sell the house without a second thought.
He surprised himself with how easy that felt. As did the idea of house-hunting with Newt, choosing somewhere together. Discussing paint colours. Furniture. Flooring. Not just easy… Fun. Exciting.
Oh.
Oh God.
His heart slammed against his ribs. Was this…love? This lightness, this breathless joy at the thought of a future with Newt? Was it too soon? Too fast? Did Newt feel the same? The questions barely registered. River knew what he felt. He knew what he wanted. Newt in his life, now and always.
River tugged him into the bedroom and flicked the switch for the bedside lamps. Newt leaned back to close the door and River stepped straight into his arms. He buried his face in Newt’s neck, holding on as if letting go might undo them both.
I don’t want to lose you. Ever. Oh God, my heart.
For the longest time, all they did was just hold each other.
Then River’s mind began to betray him, thinking about what might have happened, how everything could have turned out so differently.
Each what if tightened something painful in his chest. It physically hurt that they’d both been so close to the edge of disaster. Newt had saved him, time after time.
River leaned back just enough to look at him.
Mine. He smiled and Newt smiled back, something tender and sad flickering across his face, though his eyes were bright.
River found himself blinded by desire, only to be instantly tangled with fear.
They could have lost each other. Barney might have killed them both.
River’s heart turned wild now, an untamed creature pounding and clawing in his chest, as he tried to force the words out. Now! Say them now!
Their fingers laced together tightly.
“Stop it,” Newt whispered.
“Stop what?”
“Stop thinking—what if.” His thumbs brushed River’s knuckles. We’re here. We’re okay.”
“More than okay.”
Newt nodded. “More than okay.”
Still holding hands, they drifted closer, sharing air, sharing space, until there was nowhere left to go and their mouths met.
This was what River ached for. They kissed until River was breathless, until the world narrowed to the warmth of Newt’s mouth and the steady, living proof that they were still here.
“You make me forget…I need ox…oxygen…every now and again,” River panted. “How come you don’t?”
“I breathe through my ears.”
River laughed.
“Are hearts supposed to beat this fast?” Newt brought their joined hands up between them.
He could feel Newt’s heart hammering under his palm and turned Newt’s hand so he could feel his. “Clearly…yes.”
Newt let go of River’s hands and brought his fingers to his face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m so lucky.”
River kept his face straight. “Yes.”
Newt groaned and River inhaled the sound, pulled it into his body, felt it settle inside him, warming and reassuring.
They kissed again, Newt’s fingers twisting in River’s hair, while River’s fingers unsuccessfully tried to find a way into Newt’s trousers. They rocked against each other, pressing themselves together.
“Too many clothes,” they said in unison and chuckled.
They couldn’t stop kissing, even to strip. It turned into a game, each trying to get the clothes off the other and they fell on the bed laughing, still half-dressed. Finally, they were naked and lay on their sides facing each other. Newt touched the dressing at the side of River’s body and winced.
“Now you’re what-iffing,” River said. “I’m fine.”
“I pressed a tea towel onto your side to try and stop the bleeding.”
“Which one?”
Newt frowned. “The one with a puffin on it.”
“Oh no, not that one.” River gasped in mock horror. “That was my f…favourite.”
“Maybe they’ve washed it and put it back.”
“I hope they haven’t.”
“Want me to check.”
“No.”
Newt ran his fingers down the side of River’s body, over his ribs, the dip of his waist, the curve of his hip. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
“Is that what you thought when you first saw me?”
“Lying on the couch with a scowl on your face, shadows under your eyes and a hand down your jeans?”
“My best pose.”
“I thought you were gorgeous and I was hoping you’d take me up on my offer to give you a hand.”
“If I’d said yes, you’d have run.”
“Would I? Since you could only say fuck off at that point, we’ll never know.” He laughed.
The sound rippled through River’s body. River rolled on top of him, peppering his face with kisses and Newt spread his legs wide, tucking his heels over River’s ankles.
Their cocks were wedged side by side and when River flexed against him, Newt groaned.
The feel of their dicks pressing together made River’s toes curl.
He closed his eyes and rocked into him again.
All sorts of sounds were pouring from Newt: curses, whimpers and moans.
River had his jaw clenched tight otherwise he’d have been making the same sounds.
He slid his mouth over Newt’s cheek, down his neck and nibbled at his collar bone while Newt writhed beneath him, moving his heels to the back of River’s thighs to keep him where he was.
“River…River…”
Hearing Newt gasp his name was almost too much.
He wanted this to last longer but his need to come was stronger than his need not to.
He was chasing that impending sensation, wanting more and more, thrusting harder against Newt, moving faster and faster.
Newt had his hands on River’s backside, urging him down, bucking into him and heat built and built as they caught fire.
River couldn’t have stopped. All he could do was keep moving, grinding down until he came, his release spreading between them.
As he buried his face in Newt’s neck, Newt followed him into the inferno, and they swallowed each other’s cries as they came.
They fell asleep wrapped up in each other.
“What was that?” Newt lurched to a sitting position in the bed.
River blinked himself to a more alert state. “What?”
“There’s someone in the house.”
As hot as River had felt a short while ago, he was now icy cold. Newt leapt out of bed and pulled on his boxers. Then glared at River as he did the same.
“Stay here,” Newt whispered.
“No!” River whispered back.
“River!” Max yelled from downstairs.
They both heaved sighs of relief that quickly turned to scowls of annoyance.
“Fuck off,” River called. “We’re in bed.” He signalled Newt to get back in with him. They were both messy with dried come. Newt pulled the covers up. River pushed them down. Newt glared and pulled them back up.
A moment later, Max opened the door. “It’s five thirty in the afternoon!”
“You mean, you can only get it up at night?” River smirked. “It’s…p…probably an age thing.”
Max sucked his teeth. “I was worried about you. You didn’t answer the intercom.”
“If you’d got me a phone, you could have called.”
Max tossed a box onto the bed. “Your iPhone. You just disappeared, River. You could have let me know you were all right. I was worried.” He dropped down on the chair near the door.
“I wasn’t. I am now.”
Max sighed, looked between the two of them, then pinned Newt with his gaze. “I got your text but did you leak to the press that River was gay?”
“No, he didn’t,” River said. “I did.”
Max opened his mouth, then closed it again, pressing his lips into a tight line but still managing to say “Fuck!”
“You weren’t listening to me,” River said. “You kept saying No. Wait. Not now. There would never have been a…right time. People don’t care. Look at J…Jonathan Bailey!”
“You’re not bloody Jonathan Bailey and some people still care. They dress up their homophobia with excuses and platitudes but you know as well as I do that it still exists in our world. We could have handled this better.”