14. LUCAS
LUCAS
Two weeks later…
I felt Max’s body shudder against me as he came, shooting all over my hand and the sheets under him.
This was the first time we’d attempted this position, and though it had seemed at a couple of points like he was struggling to hold himself up on his knees, he’d insisted he was good to go and I didn’t want to overtly doubt him.
So I’d focused on working him hard, coaxing his orgasm out of him as quickly as I could without being completely obvious.
He looked over his shoulder at me and grinned, his eyes half-lidded. “Fuck me hard, Luc.”
I did as he asked, pounding into him, chasing my own orgasm hungrily.
It was less than a minute before I wrapped my body around his, clutched at where his hand was clasped in mine, and came hard inside him.
He collapsed down to the bed, not caring that he was lying with the wet spot underneath him and a two-hundred-pound man on top of him.
“Fuuuuck,” I drawled through heaving breaths, and then, “You sure you’re ok? ”
He shoved my shoulder and I moved away just enough for him to turn over under me. “I’m fine, Lucas. So good, in fact. I would have told you if I was having trouble.”
“I just don’t want to push your leg past—”
“Luc, I know,” he interrupted, lifting a hand to push my hair back out of my face. “But I’m fine, I promise. My leg is fine. My stump is fine. I just came my brains out all over your bed, which is probably more fine with me than with you, given that the wet spot is on your side.”
That made me laugh. “I’ll live with it. Maybe I’ll just sleep on top of you.”
“Love when you do that,” he said with a sleepy smile. “All that hair on my chest…”
I grinned and plucked lightly at one of his chest hairs; I’d seen pictures of how it looked waxed for work in New Hampshire. “You’ve got plenty of your own.”
He rolled his eyes at my bad joke. “Go get rid of the condom, smart-ass. One wet spot on the bed is enough.”
I did as ordered, dumping the condom in the bathroom and washing my hands.
When I walked back out of the bathroom to put a towel over the wet spot, Max was sprawled spread-eagle on the bed, occupying the whole thing.
I mock-glared at him and tossed the towel aside. “And where am I supposed to sleep?”
He grinned and slapped his chest. “I thought you were sleeping on top of me.”
“Fair enough.” I made as if to dive on top of him, pulling the motion at the last second, before I left the ground but not before he flinched. “Gotcha.”
“Hmph.” He patted his chest and ordered,“Down.”
I obliged, crawling up the foot of the bed until I was laid out on top of him. “This is nice,” I murmured.
He stroked my hair. “So nice. We should sleep like this every night.”
I laughed and lifted my head to look at him. “We practically do, at least judging by how often I wake up on top of you.”
“Yeah,” he countered, “but you don’t usually fall asleep like that. It’s only sleep-Lucas who likes to cuddle that much.”
“Hey, I like to cuddle! I’m cuddling you right now!”
“And I love it,” he said with a smile, running his fingers through my hair and pushing it away from my face again. “L-” He stopped and the smile disappeared.
I looked at him curiously. What had changed his mood all of a sudden? “What?”
He shook his head with a look of studied indifference. “Nothing. Just bullshit, as usual with me.”
“Your thoughts aren’t bullshit,” I protested heatedly. I hated when he was down on himself. The man was amazing, and for whatever reason, he just didn’t seem to see that about himself. “Whatever you think about, I want you to feel like you can tell me.”
A look crossed his face that might have been hope, but it was quickly replaced by the same indifferent expression he’d had a second ago before he cupped the back of my neck and kissed my forehead. “It was nothing, really.”
I was still skeptical, but I nodded my understanding.
Clearly whatever it was, he wasn’t up for discussing it with me.
A yawn stole over me. Orgasms always made me drowsy.
Now probably wasn’t the time to push him, when we were both half-asleep and he was feeling defensive.
With a sigh, I reached over and turned off the bedside lamp.
“Luc?” he asked a few minutes later just as I was drifting off.
I lifted my head to look at him, squinting to see him in the dark. “Hmm?”
“Do you have...savings?”
Huh? That was a complete non sequitur and I couldn’t even think of a reason why he’d be curious about it.
“Um, yeah?” I said after a moment of silence, still trying to figure out what he was getting at.
“I mean, I’m not rolling in money, but I have enough for an emergency and a little to play with if I find something I really want. ”
He hummed absently, nodding under me. “I got paid last week.”
This just kept getting more confusing. Why was he jumping topics so wildly? “Yeah, that was awesome,” I managed, trying to sound positive and not utterly lost.
He nodded again. “I bought those groceries—”
“Which you didn’t have to do,” I interrupted. “I told you that.”
“I wanted to,” he said, ignoring my peevish tone. “Anyway, I bought the groceries, but I still have most of my check left over since you won’t let me pay rent.”
“Uh-huh?” I was still lost as to where he was going with this. Was he going to demand I accept rent money? I pushed off his chest and sat up so I could get a better look at his shadowed face.
“It’s not quite enough for a security deposit—” Oh.
Oh, now I suspected where this was all going, and I didn’t like it.
“—but if you had a little money you could lend me to make up the difference, I could pay you back out of my next few checks, really quickly. I wouldn’t leave you hanging.
And then I could get out of your hair and you could have your place back. ”
No. I didn’t like this at all. He wanted to leave me?
Well, not me, he wouldn’t be leaving me in the relationship sense because we didn’t have a relationship.
But he’d be leaving the apartment, which could very well amount to what little relationship we had ending.
What if we never saw each other again after he moved out?
With his right leg functioning again, if weak, he could drive himself wherever he needed to go, so he wouldn’t need me to play taxi driver any longer, and once he had an apartment—and roommates who could be his new best friends—he probably wouldn’t see any need to have me hanging around him.
“I…” I finally managed to get out through my panic, deliberately letting my hair fall to cover my face so he couldn’t make out my expression.
What could I tell him? I couldn’t say don’t leave me; that would be both pathetic and very presumptuous of our—lack of—relationship.
I wouldn’t be so cruel as to refuse to help him when I was able, just to keep him with me.
This whole time, my goal had been to help him, and it wouldn’t be fair or reasonable to cut him off now.
I supposed I could say I didn’t have quite enough money to make up the amount he needed, and push this whole discussion back a pay period or two, but that was just kicking the can down the road.
I’d still have to face losing him the next pay period, or the one after that.
Fuck, there was really only one thing to say that wouldn’t make me feel awful about myself or make him hate me.
“I could probably lend you the money.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. “How much would you need?”
He made a face. In the dark, it made him look ominous, his brows heavy.
“Well I looked up some rental ads for places with roommates, and it looked like I could find a small room in a shared apartment for about $1200 a month, with a security deposit of the same amount before I could move in. I have about $800. And then I’d need a little money to buy a bed and a cheap desktop computer I could work from, rather than hunching over my laptop.
And I know that would add up to a lot,” he said quickly, before I could speak, “but like I said, I swear I’ll pay you back ASAP.
Before I buy anything else other than food so I don’t die. ”
Despite the pain I was in, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out a comforting hand to him as he subtly melted down with worry.
“Max. It’s fine.” It’s not fine. “I can give you the money.” True.
“Don’t worry about it.” Please worry about it and reconsider.
“And I don’t want you living rougher than you need to just so you can pay me back more quickly. I can float the money.”
He let out a deep breath and reached out to hug me.
“Thank you, Luc. I know I’ve been a pain in your ass and that you’ve put yourself out for me, a lot, and I hate to ask you to put yourself out even more, but this way it’s just one more effort from you and then you’ll be free of my pathetic ass.
I can really start my life here in San Francisco. ”
I was no longer even the slightest bit tired.
My heart was thudding in my chest and a dull pain was spreading across it.
Of course he wanted out. He wanted to start living independently—well, independently-ish—and be free to do what he liked, when he liked rather than be tied to my erratic shifts and boring life.
I mean, the most excitement I’d been able to offer him besides sex had been board games.
Anyone sane would want to get the hell out of that environment as soon as they could.
Had I ever really expected him to want to stay with me? Dumb, Lucas.
And then something occurred to me. “These apartments you’ve searched,” I began slowly, trying to think of the best way to phrase this that wouldn’t make him feel infantilized, “are they wheelchair-accessible?”
There was a long silence, and then Max cursed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “None of them said it, but surely any newer construction would have to be, wouldn’t it? It didn’t even occur to me that that was something I specifically needed to look out for. I’m so bad at this.”
I would not smile. I would not grin. I would not look relieved.
I wouldn’t. Instead, I just shook my head matter-of-factly, my hair dusting across my cheeks with the movement.
“Maybe the newest buildings, but there are still a lot of walk-ups in the city, as well as places with rooms so small you wouldn’t be able to get around and ones with steps leading up from the street.
Not to mention ones on streets so steep I’m not sure you could safely get out of the car.
I’m not saying you can’t find something that works, but you are definitely going to have to ask questions and visit each place before you make any decisions about submitting any rental applications. ”
He grimaced. “Shit.” Releasing a growl of frustration, he reached down and smacked his thigh. “Stupid fucking legs. Why can’t anything be easy, just for once?”
I tried not to let on my relief at the fact that his misfortune was going to get me what I wanted for at least a while longer.
God, I was such an asshole. “I’ll help you look,” I heard myself offer.
What? Why had I offered that? Where had those words come from?
I didn’t want to make it easier for Max to move out!
He sat up straight in bed and grabbed my arm. “Thank you so much! I knew you’d be willing to help. You want your life back, I know. Just imagine, you won’t have to feed me or drive me places anymore once I get a place.”
“Max.” I did sigh this time. Did he really think I hated those things so much?
“You know I’m happy to help you. It’s never been any trouble to be here for you, and I would continue to be here for you even after you moved out.
” In other words, please let me keep seeing you even after you leave.
“Please don’t feel like you should feel guilty about any of what I’ve done. ”
Lying back down, he released his hold on my arm in favor of running his fingers up and down it pensively. “I’ll try,” he said, sounding dubious, “but it’s just that I know how much you’ve had to do for me, and I can’t thank you enough. Even if I repay you with interest, it won’t be enough.”
“No interest,” I barked immediately. “Absolutely not. I’m not a bank or a loan shark.”
He flinched a little at my tone. “Ok, ok. I just meant that I can’t even think of a way to express how grateful I am.
You gave me a home when I would have been out on the streets.
You fed me. You changed my dressings. You drove me everywhere I needed to go.
Hell, you forced me into group therapy, which god knows I never would have done on my own.
You’ve basically been my father for a month and a half.
Hell, better than my actual father; all you had to do to top him was exist in my general vicinity. ”
I took his hand where it still lay on my arm and gently lowered it to the bed as I turned on my side to face him.
“I did all those things because I...you know, I care for you,” I ventured carefully, hoping he wouldn’t read more into the word care than I wanted him to and see just how fervently I meant it.
“You’re a good person, Max, and what happened to you wasn’t your fault. You deserved some help.”
Before I could react, he leaned in and stole a soft kiss.
It was quick; he was gone before I could do more than gasp at the show of non-sexual affection.
This man was going to kill me. “You’re a good man, Lucas Gustafsson,” he said in a firm voice that brooked no argument, then yawned.
“I’ll start calling around tomorrow,” he said, his voice muffled by the yawn.
“Find some places to look at. Maybe we can view some on your next day off.”
That was in two days. Maybe by then I’d have gotten up the courage to talk to him about how I felt, and he’d say he felt the same, and the search would be moot.
Or maybe I’d continue to be a complete chicken, and he’d be out of my apartment before I got anywhere close to baring my soul and I’d lose him forever.
Or he wouldn’t feel the same, and I’d still lose him forever, even though I talked to him.
Frankly, the likelihood of the first outcome being the real outcome was minimal.
Fuck.