“I’m okay. You don’t have to fuss over me. You’ve had such a long drive. You must be tired. Sit and eat something. Grab a beer if you want one. Come tell me about home.”
“I am. Eat your pizza.” Colt leaned against the counter, watching him. “It was weird, being home. I did a lot of busking in Houston, Shreveport, N’awlins.”
“You enjoy that? Busking?” He absolutely refused to read too much into Colt’s careful distance. The man was here, right? He’d let it be on Colt’s terms. He picked up his pizza and took a bite, the pepperoni rich and spicy on his tongue. “Mmm. So good. Thanks for bringing this.”
“Sometimes? Every so often it’s good to play for tips, just so you remember how. I like to watch you eat.” Colt grinned suddenly. “I swear to God, cher. My ass hurts so damn bad. I never want to sit down again.”
That made him laugh, grinning right back. Of course that’s why Colt was standing. God, he was such an idiot. He tried to just stay in the moment. “Right? I know just how you feel.” He’d been sitting on his ass for two weeks except for a few numbers a night. “I can’t believe you bought a Mustang.” Like, really couldn’t believe it. He didn’t understand Colt’s finances at all, but he obviously was doing better than he let on. “So were you able to record anything with Norv and Ryder or…?”
Colt shook his head. “I stayed a couple of days. Then I hitched to Houston. I needed to be out of my head, you know? I needed to drive with the Devil a while. The Mustang was at the right place, so I grabbed it. It’s a blast to drive.”
He nodded. He did know. He hadn’t been able to make it through one show. He let himself dance in a bad state of mind. His concentration was off, he wasn’t focused, and he got injured. Totally his own damn fault.
“I’m sorry.” He put his pizza down. That came out because it needed to be said, but it wasn’t enough. “For not trusting you could handle things, deal with your own shit. For not giving you enough credit.”
“I’ll take that.” Colt came to him, close enough to touch his hand. “I don’t need a boss or a daddy. I…. Next time, if you think I can’t do something, talk with me. I ain’t book learned like you, cher, but I ain’t too stupid to live.”
“Too stupid? Oh, baby. I was honestly trying to help. You were so tired, and you were trying to be everything for everybody all at once, and I thought your energy was better spent on what you do best, instead of on a theater show that was going to tie you down seven nights a week. I was wrong. That was your decision to make, not mine. But I never once thought you were stupid. Jesus, Colt. You’re brilliant. You don’t have anything to prove to me, or to anyone. You shine so bright, it’s blinding sometimes. I am so incredibly proud of you.”
“It was being with you, making music with you.” Colt stepped closer to him, and Kyle grabbed his lover, reeled him in. “Well, hello, cher. Don’t let me hurt you.”
“That’s the magic, right? Making music together? That’s what we need to find again.” He let that hang between them a minute and then grinned slightly. “And I want to tell you one more thing.” He hooked a hand behind Colt’s neck and pulled his Cajun even closer. “I don’t care who you think wants me. I don’t care if you’re right. I want you.”
Colt rested their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “I could set my burdens down here, with you.”
Yes. Yes, please.“I’ll take yours if you’ll take mine.” He brushed his lips against Colt’s. “May I kiss you?”
Colt laughed for him, the sound merry, warm. “You’d better. I need it like breathing.”
“More important than breathing.” He took a light kiss, and then another, just for a taste and maybe for the sake of being polite, but that didn’t last long. He felt Colt’s hot breath and took advantage of Colt opening for him, claiming more of what he really wanted. Colt’s hands were heavy on his thighs, the kiss going molten, his Cajun holding nothing from him.
He leaned back in his chair, twisted his fingers into Colt’s T-shirt, and tangled his good leg around Colt’s thigh. Being stuck in this chair was bullshit. If he had two good feet, he’d have Colt on his kitchen table or up against the wall in the foyer by now. He groaned, kind of loving the tease of that image. “Colt.”
“Need you, cher. Can we? I need… fuck!”
Didn’t that feel good? Knowing Colt was right there with him.
“Fuck, yeah. We… ah, shit.” He shoved the heel of his hand against the base of his cock through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. “Christ. We totally can if….” He wrapped a hand under Colt’s bicep. “Not in this goddamn chair.”
“No. I won’t risk you. Bed? Sofa? Where do you want to be?”
“Bed. If I can dance on it, baby, I can walk ten feet.” Okay, it was a little more than ten feet and up the stairs, but… semantics. And the little twinge in his foot that cut through the pain meds was worth it. He could stay in bed all damn day tomorrow, Colt along with him.
Colt looked apprehensive, but once he was up, it was all good. He threw an arm over his lover’s shoulders and found a grin somewhere. “See? You’re the perfect height.”
“Good. I’m gon’ get you upstairs. Then I got to get my guitar and all from the car, just real quick.”
He nodded. “Yeah. That’ll cool us off a minute.” It would cool Colt off for sure. It was something like twenty-five degrees out. “Take my coat.”
“I’ll be quick as a bunny. I swear.”
He was laughing before Colt got his butt down on the end of the bed. “Go on. Tell me you packed some patience in your suitcase? I could use some with the heat you’re giving off.”
“I packed olive salad, pralines, and chicory coffee from the Café du Monde.” Colt kissed him again, hard and fast.
He grinned and slapped Colt on the ass. “Kiss me again and your shit is staying in the car, baby. You better run.”
“I did miss your smile, cher.” Colt disappeared in a rush, leaving the echo of his laugh behind him.