Touch Like Breathing

sequel to After Anna

Theda Black

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's

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is entirely coincidental.

Touch Like Breathing: sequel to After Anna

ISBN: 978-1-55487-149-0

Cover art by Martine Jardin

part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is

forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

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Chapter One

A tall man in his late thirties approached the motel door and fished for a key, inserted it in the lock above

the Do Not Disturb sign and swung it open. Tyler and Will came out of the door across the hall, and in two

long strides Tyler reached out, jerking the man's upper arm roughly back. The man's head whipped around

and he stared at Tyler, eyes going wide, wider, breathing fast, faster, going through the roof. Will slid

between the two of them and the door, pushing it open, banging it against the wall behind.

She was inside, trussed on the bed, hair hanging in lank ropes over her face. Will stopped breathing for a

moment when she first raised dead eyes to him. Dark, puffy rings stamped the tender skin beneath. She

was naked, her skin white and defenseless, bruises scattered over her body like smudged watermarks.

Will heard her mother's soft, halting voice in his head. So afraid for her thirteen year-old daughter. So

right to be afraid.

Andrea went missing three days ago, taken by the man Tyler held in the hallway, Andrew Myers. Will

and Tyler had almost caught up to them yesterday after a tip had been called in. But almost didn't count,

and they were afraid of how desperate the near-miss might have made Myers, assuming he knew they'd

almost caught him--it was hard to imagine that he might have escaped by sheer luck. They'd been so close.

Will walked through the door of the motel room and the girl whined, high-pitched, terrified. "Andrea,

it's over." His voice was as soft as he could make it. "I won't hurt you. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore,

I promise. I promise, okay? I'm going to get that gag off you, okay, that's all. I'm gonna help you, I won't

hurt you."

Outside the room, Myers started yelling and crying, hysterical, angry. Andrea whined again, nearly

keening, eyes wide and dark. Will strode to the door and made an angry motion and Ty nodded, dragging

Myers down the hallway. People opened their doors and looked out. Will ignored them, stepped back to

the bed and crouched down beside Andrea. He reassured her, repeating himself, low and soft, "It's okay, I

won't let him hurt you, it's over," and she quieted little by little. Will reached slowly around the back of her

head and pulled the gag off. Her mouth worked, her lips dry and cracked. Her eyes were wide and blank,

but she met his gaze and held it for the first time.

"I just want to help, okay? I'm going to untie you now, is that okay?" He worked on the knotted rope,

careful to make all his movements slow and easy. Her hands were freed and she immediately wrapped

them around herself, clutching and rocking. He untied her feet next and she rolled on her side, huddling

into herself, as tiny as possible. Will pulled a dingy blanket from the closet across from the bed and

crouched down beside her. "Tell me what I can do to help, Andrea. I promise he won't ever touch you

again, I promise."

Andrea took the blanket from him and asked for her mother in a cracked, childish voice.

Chapter Two

The humid night air was becoming cooler but still rode close over the skin, like most southern spring nights

fading into summer. The streetlights glittered over the asphalt beneath his feet and the air smelled rich and

green, courtesy of the recent rains.

Will walked. He didn't know how long he'd been at it. He walked a lot lately, trying to outpace things he

didn't want to think about, couldn't stop thinking about. He didn't know if walking even helped, but

anything was better than sitting at home feeling restless and trapped.

He concentrated on even steps, even breaths, blanking his mind, feeling the stretch of muscle, the trickle

of sweat on arms and chest and face. He saw a woman in her yard, wearing a robe over her pajamas and

yawning sleepily as she waited for her dog to do its business. She spotted Will, took a long look at him as

he approached, then snapped her mouth shut and tugged hastily at the leash, urging her dog back inside.

Will suddenly remembered how he must look, face bruised and beaten like a drunk on a bender. He didn't

really care.

The past week had been rough. First chasing down Andrea's kidnapper, hoping and praying they'd find

her in time, working with everything they had to make sure it happened and finally succeeding. Then last

night, a helluva shift. Tyler and Will were on the south side of town and caught what was supposed to be a

domestic dispute call.

Some dispute. By the time they arrived, the wife was dead.

He remembered how the front door stood open, light spilling out of the doorway and over the porch

steps to the lawn. Snapshot memories of the living room flashed through his head. Jagged white and blue

porcelain pieces from a broken vase scattered over the hearth--overturned lamp--coffee table on its side--

blood on the floor. No one there.

They headed for the bedroom, saw the woman's body on the floor, limbs arranged neatly, like the

funeral home had already been at her. A man stepped out--more like fell out--from beside the doorway,

crying, and flung something at them, his whole hulking miserable weight behind it, damn drunk with a star

pitcher's aim. Will tried to duck, but a heavy, engraved copy of The Holy Bible caught him on the left side of

the face, knocked him staggering against the bedroom door. Tyler handcuffed the man with more difficulty

than he'd have liked to admit and they hauled his ass into the back of the car and down to the station. He

cursed and cried the whole way, snot and tears rolling down his face as he ranted about his lying, cheating,

slut-bitch of a wife.

Will didn't know why the whole thing hung on in his head, bothered him more than any of the other

stuff they dealt with on a regular basis. Maybe just the fact that they'd been unable to change the outcome

of too many calls they'd responded to lately. Too much of the bad shit in a short space of time started

hitting him hard, took too long to lie down and rest. So Will tried to walk it out.

There were other things circling around in his head, too, that didn't want to roll over and lie down like

they fucking should.

Will looked around, noting the sky lightening almost imperceptibly. He heard faint sounds of an engine

turning a block or two away and a car horn sounding from far off on the highway, breaking the quiet and

reminding him of the morning they'd found Andrea.

A car had stopped at the throughway of the motel, the driver waiting impatiently for someone inside,

blowing his horn just as the paramedics emerged carrying Andrea down the steps on a stretcher. Andrea

had jerked at the sound, looking wildly all around, too much noise, the daylight too bright, overwhelmed

after being tied up and helpless for days. Will had walked up beside her and said her name quietly. Her

gaze had darted to his face and held there as if he'd keep everything she feared away. He'd ended up riding

in the ambulance with her, enfolding her small, cold hands in his, warming them on the way to the

hospital.

Andrea's stepfather had gone off the deep end when he'd found out his wife planned to divorce him.

He'd kidnapped his stepdaughter, taken her from her mother, Patricia, then beat and raped her repeatedly.

Punishment for Patricia. See what you caused, bitch.

Will remembered the seedy little one-story motel downtown where they'd almost caught up with Myers.

He remembered the dread sinking into the pit of his stomach when he and Tyler found a long line of rope

coiled innocuously on the floor of the bathroom closet, saw the wrinkled, stained sheets. Smelled the

musky scent of sex and something sharper, darker, brutal beneath it--blind terror, maybe, sunk low and

absorbed into the room.

The desk clerk said they'd missed Myers and Andrea by less than an hour. Will had met Tyler's look and

known they were both thinking the same thing, that they might have lost her for good.

Afterward, Will knew he'd taken the kidnapping too personally, stepped over the line emotionally. He

couldn't afford to get so involved if he wanted to keep doing his job. But Andrea's hands in his had been so

cold and small in the ambulance and she'd watched him, holding onto his gaze like a life preserver.

Will shook his head, trying to clear it. He walked faster, heading for home as the sun rode up over the

rim of the earth in a low, slanting light.

He'd started the walks soon after Anna died, before he'd bought his house. Half the time he'd been hung

over, mouth a dry pit, stomach a mess. After he and Tyler split, the walks got longer and more frequent. At

one point he'd considered jogging, but that felt like something else entirely. Exercise, training. He kept in

shape, but that wasn't why he walked. He walked because he had to do something, anything, to get out

from under. And what happened between himself and Tyler became a big part of what he tried to get out

from under.

Will figured they'd give each other some space after the split, try to figure out how to go on together as

friends and partners. Tyler backed off for what, a fucking couple of weeks at work, tops, so determined to

make things better between them that if he could have fixed them single-handedly he would have. In no

time he was in Will's face again offering--no, expecting the same friendship and closeness they'd always

had. Will couldn't figure how Tyler could act the same as always, same old horseshit, joking around, eyes

warm on his and crinkling easily at the corners, turning deadly serious when the job got rough, still

expecting the same responses from Will that he'd always gotten.

But Will didn't know what normal was after they'd put their mouths on each other, ran their hands and

mouths over each other's skin, sucked each other off until their legs were shaking, insides shaking, blind

and crazy with it, aware of nothing and no one else. Going back seemed impossible, though he wanted to,

wanted things simple and uncomplicated like before, wanted to bury everything else between them just as

deep as he could.

Hell, Tyler had been doing just fine. Will was the one having difficulty forgetting. He was more than a

little disgusted with himself, at how it fucked with his head, but he guessed he was coping. Until they'd

nearly fucked everything up again.

It felt damned strange to Will, hanging out together after work that first time, but he'd let Tyler's

certainty that they could handle it suck him in. Went to a bar with him. It was like a test. Pass it, pass go,

collect two hundred and he'd beat it. He'd be okay again, they'd be okay again.

Right. Will laughed under his breath, exasperated, shook his head and kept walking.

Hanging out at a bar was something they used to do together all the time and Tyler acted like he always

had back then--like Will's best friend, no more, no less. Will had felt lost.

He remembered the dark, the heat, the hubbub of people talking, music vibrating into his skin. Watching

Tyler tip back a beer. The movement of Ty's throat as he swallowed. Will drank a little faster, trying to wash

that particular sight out of his brain.

He should have left right then, was getting ready to stand up and go in fact, even though Tyler had

driven, but Tyler stood up first. He looked down at Will a long moment, face unreadable, then headed for

the bathroom. Will watched him walk away, the broad shoulders and slim waist, the hint of a strut. He

remembered Tyler's mouth moving over his, insatiable. The taste of Tyler in his mouth.

Will closed his eyes and lowered his palms slowly onto the notched wood of the table, slid them over the

edges and gripped hard. Tried to breathe, keep his sanity, keep himself from moving.

Then he got up and went after Tyler.

He walked into the bathroom and Ty was leaning against the tile wall, head down. He looked tired,

vulnerable. Will stood in front of him, not moving. Tyler looked up, eyes a mixture of heat and pain, raised

a hand and put it on Will's chest, radiating warmth through shirt and skin. At the contact, Will stepped

closer, body gone hot and hard as a rock, humming with electricity. Tyler looked at his mouth, then moved

his hand up Will's chest, sliding inside his collar, touching skin--

The bathroom door flew open and a drunken giant of a man stumbled in, grabbing onto the top of a

shaky wooden stall to keep from falling. The stall creaked beneath the man's weight. Tyler's hand fell to his

side. Will kept his eyes on Tyler, willing him not to turn away, watching bleakness spread over Ty's face

instead.

Will took a step back, then another. He tried to smile. "Ty. I'm…I'm heading out. See you tomorrow," he

husked, throat paper dry as if he hadn't had too much to drink. He walked out of the bathroom, out of the

bar. He started walking home.

Tyler came after him and tried to give him a ride, told him he was stupid, it'd take hours to walk home.

Will stopped and stared at him, eyes hard and furious. "Go the fuck home, Ty." And like an echo from the

past, he heard Tyler's voice from six weeks ago. Go home, Will. It hung between them in the air until Tyler

looked away.

"It was stupid going out together tonight and you know it," Will said, quieter. Tyler looked at him again

and Will saw he wanted to say something, struggled with it. He waited but Tyler couldn't find the words.

Will sighed. "Look, dumb nuts, we'll try again. Not a bar. Bowling or something."

Tyler's face broke apart for just a second before he laughed, short and deep, like something had caught in

his throat. "I'm not going fucking bowling with anybody," he said, his voice uneven. "Not even you."

Will nodded tiredly and turned away. But Tyler wouldn't leave, tagged along behind him in the car.

Finally, Will turned around and went back to sit at the bar in disgust, picking a stool in front of the

bartender, drinking and refusing to look at Tyler beside him.

Eventually they met a couple of women.

End of story.

And now here he was, walking again. Walk it down, wear it out because damn it, Goddammit, he didn't

need anybody to be happy.

The sun blazed from behind him, outlined every strand of hair as he trudged on. He was at the end of

his own street, looking at the houses and the lawns as if through a pane of glass between him and the rest

of the world, something he could see and pretend to be part of but couldn't touch. He wanted someone he

wasn't supposed to want and would never be able to have, and so far, no matter how hard and long he

walked, he hadn't been able to disown and excise that want.

Will heard a familiar car coming. He stopped, staring down at the road, unseeing. Fuck.

Tyler pulled up behind him. "Will, what the hell?"

Will started walking again, Tyler keeping pace behind him.

"Will. What're you doing?"

Will sighed. "I signed up for the Iron Man Triathlon, this is the first leg."

"Yeah, how're you doing?"

"First place, but it's early."

"We're supposed to be at work in twenty minutes." Tyler idled the car down the road beside him.

Shit. Will remembered. His car was in the shop and he'd asked Ty to pick him up.

"You okay?" Tyler persisted.

"I entered the triathlon, didn't I?"

"Will you just stop a minute?" said Tyler, exasperated. "You look like you just went three rounds. With

somebody a lot bigger than you."

There was something in Ty's voice that made Will wish he'd get the hell away from him. Concern,

whatever. "I don't need a damn sitter," he snapped, turning around. "The last damn thing I need here, as a

matter of fact, is you." The anger helped him to meet Tyler's eyes.

"Will," Tyler said. "You asked me to pick you up. You freak."

Will digested that in silence a moment. "Right." He paused. "Okay. But you've got to get off my back, Ty.

Give me some room. Don't you…need that?"

"No, it's not what I need, not what you need," Tyler said, all in a rush. "If we do that then we change

everything. We lose."

Will threw his hands up in the air. "Change everything? Every last damned thing's already changed."

"Wrong. You're not quitting on me, we can do this."

"Yeah?"

"What's the alternative, Will? Split up the partnership, do you want that?"

Will raked a hand through his hair. He sighed. "Look, you gonna follow me all the way in your fucking

car?" he asked, gesturing.

"All the way where? You're home. You were supposed to get in the car, brainiac," Tyler said, pulling over

abruptly to the curb in front of Will.

"Hey! Watch out with that thing!" Will yelped, colliding with the rear end of the car.

Tyler jumped out of the driver's side. "Sorry, Will. Really. You okay?"

"Get it through your head. I don't need you hovering." Will bent down to massage his shin, then

straightened. Tyler looked pale, like he still needed sleep, creases radiating from the corner of his eyes. The

sun caught in his hair, brought gold highlights to the dark brown. A wave of affection washed over

Will. "Look," he tried again. "Back off. I need time and I fucking need you not to make me ask for it again."

Tyler's face was mulish. There was an awful feeling of fear, helplessness and exposure all churning

around in Will's stomach. He walked across the yard and unlocked the front door, throwing it open

irritably. "Tyler. I can see right through this watchdog routine and it's rattling my cage. For the last

goddamn time, I'm okay."

Tyler stepped inside behind Will. He sniffed. "Take a shower already. You're disgusting." He dropped a

hand companionably on Will's shoulder. Will stiffened and Tyler lifted it hastily. "Sorry," Tyler muttered.

"Okay. Some space." Will headed for the shower, Tyler staring at his back. "What fucking choice are you

giving me," he muttered and threw himself on the couch.

Chapter Three

Will and Tyler testified at Myers' indictment. Myers sat at the table with his lawyer before the judge, a

clump of brown and gray hair falling messily over his forehead. He stared down at his hands, sometimes

tapping a thumb dreamily on the other with an unhurried rhythm, though Tyler noticed Myers paid plenty

of attention when Will testified, staring a stone-eyed hole through him on the stand. It gave Tyler a bone

deep, savage satisfaction to see the bastard that way, bright jumpsuit warning of the poisonous animal he

was, manacles practically forcing him to shuffle his way in and out of the courtroom.

Afterward Will and Tyler ate lunch together, picking at their food after exchanging a brief wordless look.

Neither was going to get much food down today. Tyler's knee bumped Will's across from him in the booth

more than once until finally Will shot Tyler an irritated look. Tyler looked back at him and shrugged.

The rest of the workday went quietly--working cases, phone calls, a meet with an informant. Except that

every time Tyler brushed against Will or hell, even got close, Will would take a step back, a hard look

settling over his face. He'd give Tyler a look that clearly told him to back off, but the looks only made Tyler

feel self conscious and bumbling in his skin, like he was taking up more space than was allowed. Which in

turn made him bump into Will or brush against him even more, then watch as Will's face darkened more

each time it happened. The last time, Tyler was coming back to his desk with a fresh mug of coffee. Will

said his name and Tyler turned, the coffee colliding with Will's bicep and slopping down his arm.

"Dammit--"

"Oh fuck, sorry Will--" Tyler grabbed Will just below the elbow.

Will jerked away. "Stay the hell out of my way." He looked at Tyler with glacier eyes and walked off,

Tyler standing like a statue and staring after him.

At least the shift was over. Tyler was ready for the whole damned day to be over.

* * * *

Tyler coasted the car to a slow stop in front of Will's place. It was already dark. Tyler's voice was hesitant.

"Listen. Will? About today--"

Will interrupted him. "I can't do this, Tyler. Maybe you can go back, act like everything's the same, but I

can't." His voice rose as he spoke.

"Will. You're worried about Andrea, I get it, but does all this shit always have to come back on you and

me?"

Will's face tightened. "That's not what this is about."

"I think it is."

"Look. I can't take you in my face anymore. Stop making excuses, stop crowding me or this partnership

is done. You got it?"

Tyler's face went white as paper. Will saw it even in the dimness of the car. He looked like he'd aged ten

years.

Will reached out a hand for him. Dropped it, looked at it, there on his lap. Hated it. He opened the car

door and took the stairs two at a time, standing stock still at the front door and listening to Tyler pull away.

Slowly he pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the door. He paced the living room, then sat on the

couch and brooded. Clicked on the TV remote and stared restlessly at the screen, trying not to see the look

on Tyler's face in the car after he opened his big mouth, failing pretty handily. Tyler was all Will could see.

Tyler was the one who'd known what to do after their split, was strong enough to follow through. It was

Will who needed more time, time that Tyler couldn't seem to give him. But Will had one truth when it came

to Tyler, even when he didn't want to know it or couldn't deal with it anymore--the pressure, the

expectations Tyler had of him--and it was a truth that had hold of Will and wouldn't let go. Tyler was his

best friend, his partner, his first class pain in the ass irritant, his sometimes caretaker--whether Will liked it

or not--and more times than a few…his savior. And Will didn't want to be without him. Ever. Even when

sometimes Will very seriously did want to be without him.

And when Will had that straight in his head, enough to hope that maybe he'd let it stay there and not

turn away from it as he'd been doing lately, he got in the car and drove to Tyler's apartment.

Chapter Four

Tyler was drunk. As soon as he opened up the door Will smelled it, saw the mostly empty bottle of whisky

still open on the table.

Will walked in and dammit, couldn't find the guts to say what was on his mind. Worse than that--he

tightened up, couldn't say anything, ended up waiting for Tyler to say something or make a move. He

watched Tyler sitting on the couch staring at his lap. It was like watching somebody bleed out. No TV, no

music, nothing. Just the dark and the breeze coming in through an open window, which would have felt

good except for the thousand pound dead weight on Will's chest.

He started to panic. He wanted to apologize, make it better, tell Tyler the truth, that he was just fucking

scared, but his mouth welded shut. Will made himself open it and listened to what fell out, hoping it'd be

the right thing. Should have known better. He went completely blank, stuttered around a minute, cleared

his throat and asked Tyler why he was sitting in the dark. His voice came out gruff, brusque, like an

accusation.

Tyler raised his head and looked at him. "Your bruises aren't gone yet."

It made Will cringe, that he'd still look out for him as if he couldn't help it. He didn't deserve it. He got

up and stood at the doorway, his hand on the knob, the dark almost swallowing him up. He wished it

would.

He swung the door open, walked down the stairs and got in the car, started the engine and drove away

down the block. The further away he got, the heavier the weight on his chest became.

Another block.

Can't you just tell him the truth? Tell him you don't know how to go back to what you were. Tell him maybe you

don't want to.

Another block.

Shit, tell him something --tell him you don't know what to tell him. Just stop running!

Will did a U-turn, not braking before he swung the wheel. The car rolled over a good five yards of

sidewalk before he got her back on the road. The weight on his chest jostled with the car, sinking down to

his toes and taking all remaining oxygen with it. He tried to find some anyway, breathing hard. His hands

shook like he had palsy, couldn't see the road anymore. All he could see was Tyler's face that afternoon in

the goddamn car, in the darkened apartment. Will stepped on the gas.

And there was Tyler in the headlights. On the sidewalk, then wandering onto the grass, then back onto

the sidewalk again, weaving unsteadily. Will pulled up beside him, flung open the door and jumped out.

Tyler didn't look up. He had a sock on one foot but no shoe. On the other foot he had a shoe but no sock.

Will laughed, a panicky edge to it because the weight on his chest was more than he could handle anymore.

Tyler jerked a little at the sound as if he'd just realized Will was there.

"Where you going?" Will asked. His voice rasped.

Tyler looked up at Will. His face was solemn. "After you," he said.

The weight on Will's chest was suddenly such a big shitty unsupportable ache that he bent over from it,

hand bracing on his knee. "Shit," he said, trying to breathe. "I don't fucking know what to do anymore, Ty. I

don't think I can go back to before. I wanted to try, I swear to God I did, but I can't."

Tyler's hand came down on his back and rubbed. "Don't," he whispered and leaned his warmth into Will.

"It'll be okay, Will. I promise it will."

"It won't." It hurt, but something in Will wouldn't let go. Hadn't let go in a long, long time, not since

Anna. "Ty, I'm not," Will whispered back, "not…okay." He took a deep breath. "And you, you bastard--it's

so easy for you."

Tyler laughed, jagged, all edges. "You're fucking kidding me, right? There's no alternative for me. I'm not

letting you go. So what's left but to make it work?"

"Tyler, shut up. I want to go back to the apartment. I want…"

"What?" Tyler's eyes glittered under the streetlights. He waited.

"Shit."

"Just say it."

"I…I…fuck. Okay. I want to go back to your apartment with you."

"Yeah, okay." Tyler looked confused.

Will lost all patience. "I want to fuck. I want to make you come so hard you go blind. Clear enough for

you?"

The smile died off Tyler's face, his lips tightening. His eyes were all pupil. "Not an option, Will."

"We can see other people, right? Keep up appearances."

"No."

"I don't care anymore, Ty. I just want…"

"Don't."

"Then what?"

"We keep trying."

"Tyler, no. C'mon."

Tyler looked at him for the longest time, losing the battle in increments, staring into Will's eyes with a

mixture of acceptance, sadness and something softer, shoulders loosening fractionally, breaths deepening.

"Fuck you, Will," he said, and his voice was soft, quiet. He licked his lips. "Blind, huh?"

"Yeah," Will managed, though his throat felt paralyzed. He couldn't say anything else, so he leaned over

and kissed Tyler right there on the street. He backed up, still kissing him, pulling Tyler in tow to the car.

Will pulled him in on top of him.

Tyler kissed his face and his eyes and neck as if he couldn't stop. "Don't you walk out on me again. I can't

watch your back when you're walking away, you hear, Will?" Tyler slapped his cheek lightly. His eyes were

bright.

Will opened his eyes and looked at him. "You're drunk. I'm taking advantage of a drunk."

Tyler fixed his gaze on Will again. "Doesn't matter if I'm drunk or not. You know what I want, always do.

God help me." Tyler grabbed Will's crotch and rubbed. Will groaned loudly. "My kinda date. You're easy,"

he said, satisfaction in his voice. "But we're not doing it in the car." Tyler struggled to sit up, panting.

Will was in a fog. He opened the door.

"What are you, directionally challenged?"

"What?"

"We're not exactly at the apartment yet. You pulled over to pick me up, remember?"

"Oh," Will said, looking out and up the street to Tyler's place. He closed the car door.

"Who's drunk here anyway?"

Will ignored that. "You didn't make it very far," he observed. "Why'd you come after me on foot?"

"Couldn't find my keys."

Will shook his head, disgusted. "They're in your pocket. Not that you should be driving."

Tyler felt in his pocket and looked up, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"Felt 'em just now when you were busy drilling your dick in my stomach. Thought you were trying to

give me an appendectomy."

Tyler narrowed his eyes at Will. Will turned the keys in the ignition and drove back to Tyler's apartment.

Tyler put a hand on the door handle. "C'mon in. Only, no fucking."

Will stared at him. Tyler's face was dead earnest.

"We're gonna talk. No fucking. We can't just jump into this again without being clear on what we want. I

can't stand all this drama."

"No fucking?" Will couldn't get past it. He'd gone through all this soul searching and personal hell for--

for not fucking?

"In the morning. When I'm not drunk. I'll have you singin' hymns," Tyler promised, and Will raised a

questioning eyebrow. "Praising me."

Will rolled his eyes and got out of the car. Inside, he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge--Tyler

didn't need more to drink, but Will sure as hell did--and walked back to the living room. Will sat on the

opposite end of the couch and looked at him. He stretched over gingerly and gave Tyler his beer. He made

sure their fingers didn't touch. They hadn't turned on any lights, so they sat in the dark. Again.

"Thanks." Tyler leaned back to take a sip and some of it poured down his shirt.

Will saw him jump when the cold beer ran down his chest. He eyed him, but suppressed any

commentary. "You're welcome." He swallowed a long drink of beer.

Tyler did the same, managing to get it all in his mouth this time.

Will swallowed some more.

Tyler did, too.

Will put the beer down on the coffee table and looked at him. Tyler did, too, looking back at him. They

met in a flying tackle in the middle of the sofa. It creaked loudly in protest. Tyler's head banged on Will's

chin. Will's elbow nearly gutted Tyler.

"No fucking?" Will gasped.

"None," Tyler said and plunged his tongue about a foot inside Will's mouth. Will sucked on it. They

rolled off the couch and crashed to the floor. Will grabbed the front of Tyler's shirt and pulled, buttons

firing off all over the room. Tyler wrapped around Will so hard he couldn't breathe.

"Good thing you're a man of your word, Ty," Will gasped out.

"Shhh," Tyler said in his ear. "Think of a hymn and be ready."

"Uh-uh. You're going blind first," Will said. He was on a mission. He grabbed the bottom of Tyler's shirt

and yanked it up over his head. He heard Tyler snicker beneath the shirt.

"You're cheating. Can't use a shirt to make me blind. You gotta make me come until I go blind."

"Just shut up while I don't fuck you," Will growled, ripped the shirt off, held him down and kissed him,

tasted him, and Tyler groaned and thrust up into Will as if his tongue was a cock and he could fuck him

with it. Will pushed Tyler's head hard into the floor and kissed him deeper, ran his tongue down into the

hollow of his throat, tasting salt, tasting Tyler, then licked through the hair on his chest, flicking his nipples,

sucking and chewing on them, then on to his navel. Will banged his wrists back down on the floor when

Tyler reached for him, touching and licking and rubbing until Tyler was writhing beneath him, roaring up

at the ceiling one moment and begging Will to fuck him with his mouth and hands and assorted parts the

next, until he was shaking and blind and calling out his name as if Will were the only person alive for him.

And that was only the first time. Will wrung him out and then Tyler did Will and then Will did it to him

again.

Afterward, Tyler wrapped himself around Will, nose buried in his neck, chest hard against Will's and

squeezed him tight, arms and legs like ropes.

"You okay?" Will grunted after a minute. It was hard to talk, what with being squeezed so hard. Plus he

was weak as an overcooked noodle.

Tyler nodded his head against Will's neck and wrapped even tighter around Will.

"Tyler? I've got this hymn all ready and you're punking out on me?" Will tried to breathe. "You're

choking me, Ty," he added, which was pretty much an exaggeration, but it got Tyler to let him go. Will gave

him a quick once over. Tyler's face was open, transparent as glass and Will knew he wouldn't want him

examining that. Not yet.

So Will stood up, naked, cleared his throat and sang a personalized adaptation of O Come, O Come,

Emmanuel in tribute.

Tyler's face turned ten shades of scarlet. He laughed until the tears rolled down his cheeks and then

wheezed that God was gonna strike Will down for what he'd just done. Which was funny, because for the

first time in a long time, Will was sure he'd finally done something right.

Chapter Five

Andrew Myers was charged with first degree kidnapping, two counts of child rape and four lesser charges

with bail set at $600,000. Myers made bail with the help of a bondsman and his retirement savings.

The week after Myers was released, Andrea's mother called Will at the police station and asked him to

come by the house. He and Tyler left immediately.

Andrew's brother Curt answered the door. Curt was a tall man, gangly, worry and grief written over his

face. Will and Tyler exchanged glances with one another and then followed Curt inside. Patricia waited in

the living room. She gestured stiffly for Tyler and Will to have a seat and asked them to listen to what her

brother-in-law had to say.

"I wanted you to know--you need to know--" Curt said. His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "I've

talked to Andy twice since he's been out of jail. He sounds, uh, he's talking--"

"Just take it easy, Curt," Tyler said. "Take your time."

Curt sighed and started over. "You have to understand, he'd already been under a lot of stress even

before he knew about Pat filing for divorce. He's had a lot of problems with his floor supervisor and when

the hospital wouldn't give him a raise this year, he figured it was because of her. He got pretty depressed

about it and then after that he just got angry. Everything was getting to him. I figured maybe he was going

through a mid-life crisis or something, you know? But he's been talking crazy since he got out of jail. I can't

reason with him. He tells me he's coming home and then he gets mad when I tell him he can't. He says

Andrea turned Pat against him." Curt's voice shook. "I asked him to get some help. Last time he hung up on

me." He stared at the floor, unseeing, his face miserable, then looked up at Patricia. " Andrew's my brother

and I love him. But he keeps saying he's coming home, Pat. He's so messed up. I'm worried about you and

Andrea. And I think he's been watching the house."

"Did he tell you he's been here?" Will asked.

"He told me you've been here. You're Will, right? Detective St. James? He told me you, uh…" Curt looked

down the hall and listened for Andrea. "He said you've been trying to get into Andrea's pants," Curt said,

flushing. "I don't understand what's happening with him anymore." He stopped and shook his head. "I

think Pat and Andrea need to go somewhere. Get out of here, just for a while, you know?" He looked at

Tyler and Will as if appealing for their support.

Will looked at Tyler, who nodded. "Patricia…I think your brother-in-law's right. Do you have

somewhere to go, someone to stay with temporarily? We want you and Andrea to be safe and we'll do our

best to watch over you, but there's been no direct threat made, you understand?"

"No," Curt said, standing. His fists were clinched. "I don't understand. I'm his brother. I know him and

I'm telling you whatever's wrong with him is getting worse. He's not backing down. He won't listen."

Tyler stepped forward, nodding. "Believe me, we're taking what you've said very seriously."

"Like you said, it's safer just to leave for a while," Will added quietly, locking eyes with Curt. Tyler

nodded in agreement.

"Will, is that you?" Andrea's voice came from down the hallway. She wore long pants and a long-sleeved

shirt even in the summer heat. She'd lost weight that she really couldn't afford to lose, the bones of her

arms and legs birdlike, thin. Andrea nodded at Tyler and Will, ignoring Curt. "Mom told me you were

coming. Come in the kitchen, Will, I wanna get a drink." She stepped through the kitchen doorway.

Opening the refrigerator, she pulled a can of soda out of the door and looked at Will, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head and she sat down at the table, brown hair closing around her bent head, shielding her

until she looked up again.

"So how're you doing?" Will asked gently, sliding into the seat next to her.

She looked down at the table again. "I'm…okay, I guess. I don't really know, exactly." She looked at him.

"School's…weird. They look at me. I don't think they know what to say to me." Something that was

supposed to be a smile lifted her lips. "You know, how's the girl who was raped by her stepfather doing?

Kind of awkward. I see it in their faces. Like a big old flashing sign." Her face shut down into tight misery

and Will's eyes darkened. He touched the back of her hand as if asking permission. She hesitated, then

wrapped her fingers around his lightly. "I remember. You held my hands. It's the first thing that made me

believe it was over." She looked at him. "I don't know why I trusted you. I just did."

"I wanted you to feel safe. Wanted it to be over for you," he answered, his voice gentle. "Maybe you

sensed it. I want you to be safe now. It won't always be like this. It'll get better."

Andrea nodded. Her fingers closed tightly around Will's. She closed her eyes, ducked her head and held

on.

* * * *

She screamed and screamed until her voice splintered into nothingness. Her stepfather's hands wrapped

around her thin arms. He pushed her down onto the bed, thrusting, frenzied. Her small body jerked and

flinched against his, hands fluttering against the mattress like moths beating at a window. He pushed into

her again and again, then one last time, groaning.

He grew still. His head lowered slowly against Andrea's forehead. His back hitched once, then again,

larger, building momentum. Tears fell from his eyes into Andrea's open mouth and he fell over her pale

body like a collapsing bridge. Andrea lay like a dead thing beneath him as he sobbed.

Finally her head moved, rolling over to look at Will. Her eyes were dark, accusing. "You said you'd keep

me safe. You promised he'd never touch me again."

Will tried to open his mouth. Nothing came out. He felt as if he were choking.

Andrea watched him, her mouth trembling, widening into a screaming black hole. "You said you'd keep me

safe!"

Will opened his eyes. His chest heaved as he struggled to keep it all inside, not let it howl out and make

noise. He thought maybe he'd throw up, but his stomach sank gradually back to somewhere near where it

should be. He stared at the ceiling.

Tyler woke up at 6:30, opened his eyes and studied Will's expressionless face in the dim morning light.

He didn't know what had awakened him. "Been awake long?" he asked after a while.

"Not long." Will wouldn't look at him. He rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, Tyler staring

after him.

Chapter Six

two months later

Tyler's head rolled over Will's lap and his face pressed into Will's stomach and nuzzled in. He snickered,

voice muffled from the whiskey and Will's shirt. Will grinned down at him--just something about that

muzzy little laugh of his. Will put the car in drive and pulled away fast, a cloud of dust and light rising

around and then behind them in the gravel parking lot. The road slipped under the wheels in a gray blur as

Will sped up.

"Remind me never to let you go drinking with your brother in the middle of the day again," Will said.

"You shoulda come with us. You could use some fun after those nightmares you've been having."

Tyler didn't answer.

"They're slacking off some, aren't they?"

"Yeah, Ty. No worries. So how's Sam?"

"We're celebrating. He's getting a divorce."

"Celebrating? Nice," said Will.

"Our family doesn't believe in mourning. You should see our funerals." Tyler looked up. "What you

really shoulda seen was the girl Sam met in there. Hot."

"I saw her. Well, the part of her that wasn't draped over Sam," Will said. "He's not driving, right? Talk

about wasted."

"Right. She's giving him a ride," Tyler said, leering. "Ridin', goin' ridin'," he sang tunelessly into Will's

stomach. He squinted up at Will. "Hey. I can see up your nose. D'ya know that?"

"Idiot." Will looked down at the idiot in question. Tyler's eyes were bloodshot and half-closed in the

bright, hot light of the afternoon, a silly-ass grin decorating his face.

"Looks clean as a whistle from here," Tyler added.

"I'm relieved. I was wondering."

"You were--" Tyler began, his brow wrinkled in a frown that changed like lightning as a big grin spread

over his face. "That's funny, Will--ha! Good one," and he snickered some more, admiringly, as if Will were

the world's best comedian. He struggled to get up on an elbow, the upholstery crinkling as he dug in.

Somehow his face ended up pushing deeper into Will's stomach.

"Ty! Driving, here."

"No, I mean it. You are the funniest guy I know."

Will nearly didn't understand him this time, his voice was so muffled. "You're the drunkest guy I know,"

Will said sharply and turned a corner. Tyler's hands clutched at Will's hips as he tried to keep his body

from sliding outward, and his face fell into Will's crotch. Hard.

Will yelled something along the line of fuck shit kill you my aching balls. It didn't seem to faze Tyler--he

just picked his head up and lobbed it back into Will's stomach. Will made another sound, something

wordless and high-pitched this time.

"See? Funny." Tyler's voice was muffled again in Will's shirt.

Will gritted his teeth and concentrated on keeping his hands on the wheel instead of wrapping them

around Tyler's throat. Funny. Yeah. Will's balls were killing him and Tyler was lying on his lap like a

beached baby whale, talking about how funny Will was--this from the same guy who when sober thought

Will was as funny as the flu. Will sighed and tried to relax his shoulders from down around his ears, then

looked down again. What the hell is he doing down there?

"Yeah, okay. Now get your nose out of my shirt and your face out of my balls, would you?"

Tyler reared up, brayed laughter and collapsed into his stomach once more, which at least was an

improvement over banging his face into his balls again. Will made an oof sound, which earned him another

snigger for his troubles. Then Tyler quieted down.

Will heard a sniff. Again. Sniff, sniff. Tyler pulled a huge breath in through his shirt. "Shirt smells good,"

he said.

Will was amazed at his lung capacity and wondered if it were possible to sprain a lung. Then Will

realized that was exactly like something Tyler would think about and made a face. Tyler pulled in another

huge breath and snuffled a little. Will wasn't very ticklish, but there was something about Tyler pulling

wind from his skin and through his shirt that made him squirm. The snuffle was the capper.

Tyler felt him squirm and he snickered again, looking up at Will, grinning, the devil in his eyes. He dug

his nose into Will's shirt and took another breath in, so hard that Will felt it all over his stomach.

Snuffle.

Will laughed. His balls contracted. His hips did another squirm and his ass ground into the seat. "Cut it

out!"

Snicker, snicker, came from down below. More wind sucking.

Will laughed some more, couldn't help it. Squirmed some more. Tyler haw-hawed against his stomach

and pulled at his shirt, got the tail free. He got the bottom buttons undone and stuck his head in under to

blow a raspberry. It didn't go too well. Will figured he was so drunk he couldn't pucker. Loose lips. Tyler

stuck his tongue in his navel instead.

Will arched his back off the seat in shock. "Get off me!" The car swerved across the road.

Tyler's hands came up around his waist and his head came out from under his shirt. His hair was wild.

"Watch the road!"

Will looked up and sure enough, he'd drifted over, was riding the edge and about to roll off onto the

shoulder. He jerked the wheel to the left, heading for the inside lane.

Another breath, sucked in through his shirt. "Shirt smells really good." Ty was a little repetitive when

drinking. "Or maybe that's just you, huh?"

"You're certifiably--"

And then he felt it. Tyler's mouth moved down, moist breath moving against his crotch. Will's voice

climbed a protest up past the dog register into ear shattering silence and then he really swerved. Tyler's

head came up again, but this time there was a look in his eyes that made Will's breath stop. His eyes were

dilated, dark pupils swallowing up some of the brown and his mouth was open just a little. He smiled, one

corner of his mouth coming up slowly, enough sex in it to knock Will off his feet. Except Will already was

off his feet.

"What the fuck?" Will asked, his voice low, low, low. He cleared his throat. Didn't help--it was stuck

somewhere down in a sandpit, dry, husky. Will pushed Tyler's head away but it swayed right back, a snake

doing a dance. "You're wasted. And we are in a car." Will said it loud, his chest pounding like a jackhammer.

"Remember last month when we did Tina?" Tyler asked.

"I don't make a habit of forgetting women I sleep with," Will snapped and pushed a little harder on the

gas pedal. "It wasn't that long ago."

"And after she broke up with me?"

"What about it?"

"She dumped me for that other guy she'd been dating, the astrolo-astrono--"

"Astrophysicist," Will interrupted him and couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Go figure. From you to an

astrophysicist."

"Hey! She's a nice girl. Anyway, they got married. Last week," Tyler added thoughtfully.

Will stared down at him. "You're kidding me."

"Would I do that? Watch the road!"

"You're pulling my leg."

"You're a snob, you know that?"

"What, you don't think it was quick?"

"You slept with her, too, dipshit."

"So I did. Which proves I am not a snob."

"No, you dated Darla. That proves you're not a snob."

"How?"

Tyler smirked. "Well, Darla. She had no class. Ye Olde Chestless Wonder."

"She had no class because she had no breasts?"

"Ha! I told you you're funny. Except when you're not. Got nothing to do with it. I just remembered the

breast thing is all."

"Sure. It all comes down to the feminine attributes with you, Ty. You know that?"

"What? She had no boobs, Will. No fault of her own, but hey, I have eyes. At least Tina had boobs."

"Yeah, in place of brains," Will said and smirked down at him.

"Yeah, speaking of brains. You thought you were in love with Ye Olde CW. Classy as potted meat."

Will felt his face go hot. "Okay, well, that was a couple of years ago."

"How was she on blowjobs?" Tyler asked, being obnoxious, and Will's face flamed hotter. Tyler grinned.

He tried to prop an elbow on Will's leg to hold up his head, but there wasn't enough room. His elbow slid

off, perilously close to Will's balls again. Will gave him a warning look, which he ignored. "Say, did you

know I out drank Lenny the Lush one time? Wasn't easy, either."

"You got drunk with Lenny? Why in the hell would you--"

"And one time I was loaded and I bowled a 220."

"Thought you didn't bowl."

"I said I was drunk, didn't I? Oh, and I did a handstand drunk, once, remember, after you told me you

could do them and now--"

"Yeah, I remember. You fell on your face and almost broke your--"

"--I'm gonna do you. Right now, right in the car." He grinned agreeably up at Will, but his eyes promised

it was gonna happen.

Will's mouth fell open. He closed it before something was said about catching flies and then swallowed,

apparently the wrong way. "And you nearly threw up, too," he managed to get out, then started coughing.

Tyler reared up and slapped him on the shoulder. He put some weight behind it, too.

"Stop hitting me!" Will gasped and coughed some more.

"Can't help you get choked up so easy." Tyler's hand moved to Will's zipper. Will's fingers curled around

Tyler's, stopping the movement. He glanced down, then up at the road, then back down again, warning

Tyler with a look. Tyler reached without looking, his palm curling around Will's knee, rubbing gently. His

hand moved up, cupped Will's leg inside his thigh, then further up to his crotch. Will grunted at that first

touch, moving in tight, hard strokes against his hard-on.

And Will was hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, hard enough to hurt. He opened his mouth

to yell at Tyler, reached a hand down to shove him away and instead spread his left leg open wide and his

right one as far as he could and still keep his foot on the gas. Tyler grasped the zipper of his jeans and

pulled.

Will's chest heaved, trying to suck in more air. It didn't seem real, not even when Tyler pulled the flaps

of his jeans open as wide as he could and yanked his underwear down to get at him. Will cursed but didn't

pull away, looking down at Tyler's mop of hair, shot through with warm brown and red highlights. He felt

heat and suction lower around his cock, surrounding, tightening. Ty's mouth, oh God his mouth, his tongue

licking and wrapping around him, so wet, so sweet, so insane, and too late, way too late to stop. Tyler's

mouth slid up and down, clumsy, determined, devouring, and Will went out of his fucking mind, arching

into his mouth, jerking his leg hard against the car door and moaning, the helpless sound of it astonishing

even himself.

The driver of a green convertible in the right lane honked frantically as their car veered, heading toward

it. Will saw the driver's mouth open in a terrified O and swung the wheel left, Tyler's mouth leaving him as

he looked up a second, making sure everything was under control, then sank back down. Will groaned

again, deep, looking blindly out the windshield, trying desperately to remember that they were going to

crash with his dick in Ty's mouth if he didn't take care of business first.

But God. His mouth was all over him.

Will wanted to thrust so badly, harder, fuck him, drive himself into Tyler, but if he gave in to it the way

he wanted he'd lose whatever control he still had left. Will pounded the steering wheel with the palms of

his hands, then wrapped his shaking fingers back around it. He was shaking like an earthquake, couldn't

think past the need to push himself into Tyler's mouth. He gritted his teeth, banging his left foot on the

floorboard in frustration. God he wanted to come.

Tyler's head bobbed up and down, tongue stroking, rubbing. His mouth was scorching. Will heard the

sounds his mouth made, loud in the car. Tyler groaned and it vibrated against Will's cock. He couldn't hold

back anymore and thrust deep into Tyler's throat, yelling, squeezing his eyes shut just for a second, colors

exploding behind his lids. His cock jumped so hard it hurt. He opened his eyes, made himself do it, fast,

looked out at the road, looked down as Tyler pulled his mouth off and jerked him strongly with his fist.

Will pushed harder against the floorboard and pressed his back into the seat, trying to keep from bowing

out away from it, pulsing hard, coming harder. Colored spots appeared before his eyes. Semen jerked out

of him and into the air, back down, landing on Tyler's fist. It felt like it'd never end.

Tyler reached a thumb up, touched and rubbed the swollen tip, the act of it absorbing all his attention.

His lips were red and swollen. He looked awfully satisfied, though Will was sure his dick had to be drilling

a hole through his jeans.

And then Will looked up.

A bus rode along beside them on the right, looming over the car. The Jefferson City Transit Service, serving

the city's transportation needs. Will's foot jittered on the gas pedal and the bus pulled slowly ahead, a row

of people sweeping past, looking down from the windows, mouths open. More gaping Os. Will thought he

heard a scream. A woman with brown hair blowing around her wide, pretty face grinned down at them.

Then she winked.

His face flooded with heat and Will tried shoving his thighs together, but they only trembled. "Ty," he

said, his voice sounding shaky, frantic. He dropped a hand away from the steering wheel and shoved at

Tyler's head. Tyler responded by sucking him back in. It embarrassed him and he'd never admit it

afterward, but Will wailed. It didn't faze Tyler in the slightest, because he just flicked Will with his tongue.

Will yelped and twisted away, squirming again, this time because his cock was so sensitive. He heard Tyler

laugh.

Shit. "Ty," Will said, settling his ass back down on the seat. "Look up." He wouldn't. "Would you just

look?" Will pleaded.

Tyler's mouth slipped off Will and his face turned to the side, settling against his opened zipper. It had

to be uncomfortable, but he looked like he liked it there.

"Tyler!"

Tyler must have heard the panic in his voice because finally, finally he squirmed over onto his back, and

just like Will figured, he sported a hard-on that threatened to shred his jeans. Tyler looked up. He did a

double take, then levered himself up to grin at the woman, who by now was leaning out the window and

waving as the bus left them behind. Tyler waved back. Then he dropped his head on Will's stomach,

laughing his ass off.

Will shoved him off his lap with both hands--the car swerving wildly yet again--and he was still

laughing while Will zipped and buttoned, only the back of his hand against the steering wheel keeping

them on the road. His legs trembled like a virgin bride on her wedding night.

"You taste good." Tyler was still smiling, happy.

What the hell was a guy supposed to say to that? Will's face went hot again. He didn't say a word.

"You taste like…like…"

"Shut up. For God's sake."

"Like tube--"

"Shut up!" Will glared at him.

"Steak." Tyler snickered like a horse's ass and he kept on snickering and laughing until Will wanted to

punch him. But instead, when Will had his legs enough under control to stop the car and walk without

them folding from under him, he pulled over and got Tyler coffee. Tyler ended up losing his lunch out the

side of the car. Will could have gotten a little sensitive about the fact that Ty needed to puke after giving

Will head, but he knew better. Tyler had liked it. A lot.

Going down on Will had fast become a favorite hobby of Tyler's--a hobby Will could really get behind.

But thinking of how much he liked it just made him irritable, knowing that Tyler had a date later that

evening.

Chapter Seven

Tyler stood at Will's door a week later, knocking quickly, waiting, knocking again, then grabbing the

doorknob in his hand. It was unlocked and he poked his head in, said Will's name and walked down the

hall.

The bedroom door was open wide, the hall light streaming in over Will's naked body, a sheen of sweat

over his back and arms, muscles etched in sharp relief, poised over a woman Tyler had never met. Will

pushed her legs up, bending them at the knees and lowering his face between them. She gasped, arching

her back and thrusting up to meet his mouth.

Tyler couldn't move, couldn't stop staring, turned into rock, his mind screaming at him to backpedal, get

out. He was frozen. Except maybe he did make a move or some noise, something that made Will open his

eyes and turn his head, his body jerking in surprise and then stilling just as Tyler's had.

When Will froze, Tyler found he could move. He turned and walked out of the house, trying not to look

like he was running, feeling Will's gaze heavy between his shoulder blades, almost palpable. He spent a

long time afterward trying to wipe the scene out of his mind, failing utterly, finally jerking off to it and

feeling like shit as he did.

Chapter Eight

He couldn't believe how fast it all changed.

It made Tyler angry--Will was the one who'd said he could do this, could handle it, but now it was more

than obvious that he couldn't. Will pulled away from him, growing colder both in and out of bed until they

were mostly fucking just because they could, or because they were pissed or tense or tired and could at

least still give each other that. Or maybe because it was all they had. The distance between them kept

growing until Will was too far away and it was all wrong, they were both all wrong, the ease of being

together broken by silences gone too long, jokes fallen flat, tensions riding high. The two of them were a

puzzle whose pieces no longer fit and Tyler didn't know exactly how it happened or how to fix it.

He'd known from the first what they had to do if they wanted to keep their friendship intact. But he'd

listened to Will, caved in, gotten tired of shutting off his feelings for him and now nothing was working.

Tyler's mind circled round and round, trying to figure out how to salvage something. He didn't know how

anymore.

Funny thing, by the time Will finally admitted defeat and called it quits between them again, Tyler had

pretty much given up dating. One night, for the first time in his life, he'd found himself minus a hard-on

with his date du jour. Couldn't even manufacture the interest.

He and Will stopped touching. No pats on the shoulder, no taps to get attention. Nothing. Six weeks of

not touching after years of touching without thinking about it, automatic as breathing. It widened the

empty spaces to impossible distances between them, felt worse than wrong. It felt broken. He felt broken. He

didn't recognize himself, all his focus and determination to make things work between himself and Will

falling to pieces. Useless.

But Tyler kept it to himself, kept a tight rein. He remembered how it had only taken a few beers in a bar,

Will's hand on his chest, his hand on Will's shoulder to show them how easy it'd be to give in. He couldn't

forget that, ever. Giving in again would break them for good.

Touch had always anchored them. Now it was the enemy.

Chapter Nine

The bar was dark. Tyler blinked as he walked in after Will, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

"You guys have some interesting friends, you know that?"

"Glyce, how's it going?" Will asked. "Haven't seen you much."

Glyce tipped a clear drink back, pale throat exposed. She wore a red dress, tight as a second skin, her

dark hair flowing straight over her back. "Business is good and I haven't had any trouble, which is why you

haven't. But since you're here, you might want to know about something. Someone, I should say. He

seemed interested in you guys."

Will and Tyler exchanged glances. "Interested how?" Tyler asked.

She shrugged. "Might be nothing, but a girlfriend of mine had a customer who mentioned a couple of

pricks, 'scuse me, cops interfering with his family business." Glyce smirked.

"What makes you think he was talking about us?"

"Mentioned Will by name. Seemed kind of angry. Okay, all kinds of angry. Sometimes I hate these

fucking customers, guys, and how in hell do me and my girlfriends get involved in your business yet again,

by the way?"

"I can't help you with your customers unless you want us to scare 'em all away for you, but the reason

you talk to us? Because you like us," Tyler said, grinning at her when she threw him an irritated glance.

"Glyce, c'mon," he cajoled. "Don't be that way. What do you know about him?"

"She said his name's Bill Masters, but the customers always lie about that. As if we even care. She said he

was ranting at one point, talking about somebody named Pat. And you, Will."

"What'd he say?" Will asked.

"Rambling. Stuff about getting her back. That Pat made a mistake. And something about Will interfering.

She said he was losing his shit. He wouldn't fuck her, just talked and jacked off over her. I tried to get her to

come to you, but she wouldn't. Look, it's nothing concrete, but he mentioned Will and--"

"It's enough. We appreciate it," Tyler said.

"I know you do. Quid pro quo. Now get away from me, would you? Can't make money with cops

hanging all over me," she said and winked.

"You know where we are, Glyce--always at your service." Tyler smiled at her and ordered her another

drink before they left.

Outside, Will and Tyler stood on the sidewalk and looked at each other. "What the fuck are we going to

do about this guy," Tyler said. He wiped his forehead. It was too damn hot.

Will shrugged. "Only thing we can do. Report what we heard and keep our eyes open."

"Think he's gonna make a move?"

"Patricia and Andrea aren't around, who's he gonna make a move against?"

Tyler looked at him. "Seems like he's blaming you, too. Looking for an excuse."

Will shrugged again. "Yeah, nobody likes the cops, huh?" He cleared his throat and stared over Tyler's

shoulder before finally looking at him. "Want to get some dinner?" It'd been weeks since they'd done

anything together outside of work.

Tyler looked back. The sun was bright in Will's hair and his frank green eyes watched Tyler, waiting.

Tyler blinked back a sudden image of his mouth on Will's, crushing his lips, pushing him down. Finally he

shrugged. "Sure, if you want to."

"What I want, huh?" Will's voice was tight.

Tyler's brow rose. "Are we talking dinner or what, Will?"

Will's face flushed. "Forget it. Never mind."

Tyler looked at him, bewildered. "Okay." Tyler shook his head, then turned away and walked off.

Will's hand on his arm stopped him. "Don't."

"Don't what?" Tyler yelled. He didn't want to leave, not really, but he didn't want to do this either,

whatever this was. So instead he stood there and watched Will, his jaw twitching with impatience. Will

didn't answer but he didn't let go.

"You don't know what you want--that much is pretty clear, Will," said Tyler, but still he stood on the

sidewalk, midday heat melting into his pores. "When you figure it out, let me know, huh?" He shook off

Will's hand and started walking again, but Will kept pace behind him. Tyler fumbled for his keys as he

approached the car, and Will's hand wrapped around his upper arm again, gently encircling it.

It was a request and Tyler couldn't turn it down. He stilled, staring down at the blacktop, seeing himself

wheeling around to face Will, hearing his own voice shouting as he pushed Will against the car, covering

his body with his own. He was careful not to let it show, kept staring down. "What?" he asked when he felt

able to speak normally.

"I don't know if either of us is up for this, but what the hell, it's coming sooner or later and we can't hash

it out here on the sidewalk. Wanna grab some beer and meet up at your place?"

A part of Tyler wanted to refuse him, but he nodded curtly and opened his car door, not looking up as

Will walked away. Tyler got into his car, started it, revved the engine, the steering wheel hot under his

fingers and pulled away at a break in traffic. Couldn't remember what he'd done with his sunglasses,

dammit. He squinted out the windshield against the light, driving toward home, stopping at a little

convenience store not far from his place.

Tyler pushed the door open, a small bell tinkling. A bored cashier with long limp hair and dirty

fingernails stared at him from behind the counter. Tyler stared back and the guy dropped his eyes, but once

they weren't face to face the cashier's gaze followed him again--Tyler could see him in the reflection of the

round, rusted security mirror high up in the corner. He sauntered down the aisle to the refrigerated beer.

He opened the door, the coldness good on his face, cooling his scalp. He debated a moment, then

grabbed a twelve-pack from the cooler. The hum of the refrigerator blocked out other sounds and he

jumped a little when a hand touched his back.

"What are you doing, I got it." Tyler didn't look at Will.

Will raised an eyebrow at the twelve-pack and stepped closer. "Think you got enough?"

"Yeah. Better get some for yourself, though." Tyler grinned.

Will smiled slowly, as if he were surprised he wanted to, patting Tyler's back again, and the distance

Tyler had so rigidly cultivated over the past weeks began to recede against his will, sloughing like ice in

warming weather. The feel of Will's touch was something from out of the past and he shoved the feeling it

brought to the back of his brain.

Will's hand fell and he stepped back, following Tyler up the aisle. Tyler turned, cruising the snack aisle

with rows of chocolate and yellow cakes, cakes with rainbow colored sprinkles. Eyeing a raspberry colored

confection flecked with white coconut, he slowed, then stopped. He picked it up and Will eyed him

disbelievingly.

"I'm hungry," Tyler said, as if explaining something to someone particularly slow.

Will rolled his eyes. "You can't possibly eat that! With beer, Ty?" Tyler just looked at him, rattling the

plastic covering the cake. Then he opened it, took a large bite and smiled a cakey raspberry coconut smile.

"Ugh," Will said, rubbing his stomach. "Pay for it first, dickwad."

They walked to the counter together. The cashier still watched as they approached, one corner of his

mouth drawn up in a smirk, a glint in his eye.

Tyler looked down his front, checking for something obnoxious the clerk might be seeing. Noting

nothing of particular interest, he looked over at Will and then back to the clerk. "Something funny?" he

drawled, slow. The cashier didn't answer, just kept it up with the smarmy one-sided grin. Tyler put the

cake and the beer noisily onto the counter, then leaned over it and looked into the clerk's eyes, pinning him.

"So ring it up already." He held the guy's stare, then leaned back as the cashier pressed a few keys.

"Twenty twenty-five," he said and looked at Will. "Who's paying, you or your boyfriend?"

Will looked at Tyler and he looked back. Neither made a move for his wallet. Finally, Will moved,

reaching into his back pocket and turning to the cashier. "He's just a fuck buddy," he answered, smiling big.

Tyler's mouth dropped. Will fished out a twenty and some change, flipping them on the counter.

The cashier scowled. "Hope it ain't catchin'." He reached out for the money with distaste, then added,

"This ain't California, ya know." Tyler took the opportunity to snag his collar and pull him halfway over the

counter up close to his face, the money drifting onto the floor. He shook the clerk like a terrier does a rat,

shaking the knowing smirk, the disdain, off his face.

Will's hand came down on Ty's back again and the same longing as before rolled over him, taking him

off guard. He schooled his face against it. Letting go of the cashier's shirt, he grabbed the beer from the

counter.

Will slapped a hand down on the cake and some of the filling exploded out the open end of the

wrapper, splat, and flew onto the cashier's shirt. "Ohhh yeah," Will crooned low in his throat and licked his

lips. The clerk lurched back, a shocked look on his face. Tyler's laugh held an edge of astonishment.

"Better than what I leave all over his shirt--talk about tacky. If you know what I mean." Will winked.

Tyler leaned against the counter and gave him a long, incredulous look. Will winked at him, too, licking his

bottom lip. Tyler didn't blink, watching. When Will turned to walk out the door, Tyler swallowed and

followed behind.

"What were you saying back there?" Tyler demanded.

Will opened the door and re-entered the heat outside. He squinted in the strong sunlight, looking back.

"Hell if I know." He shrugged. "Sounded good at the time. The jerk."

"Well you're scaring me, shithead. Cut it out. Besides, I'd like to be able to come back in here sometime."

Tyler shook his head, trying not to grin. It felt almost like the old days.

"And who're you to talk? You can't go manhandling a guy like that. It's called police brutality," Will said

and raised an eyebrow when Tyler huffed a long breath out, irritated. Will jumped into his car.

Tyler climbed into his car, too, fired it up, pulled out, drove the three blocks to his apartment, turned into

the parking lot and pulled up alongside Will. Tyler headed for his front door, key ring jangling.

Once inside, Tyler set the beer down on the table and popped the top of one, taking a few long gulps. It

burned and bubbled down his throat. He belched. "Want one?" he asked.

"Sure," Will said, easily catching the beer Ty tossed to him.

Tyler placed the rest of the beer in the refrigerator, then came to stand in front of Will. Just stood there.

He didn't know how to start this, dreaded it, and it made him irritated. "We're here to talk, so talk," he said.

Will frowned a little at the abruptness. "So you asked me what I was talking about. What I wanted."

"Uh, I thought we were talking about dinner."

"Whatever. You said I don't know what I want, but I do."

What I want is you. But you put a stop to that, didn't you? Aloud Tyler said, "So c'mon. Tell me."

Will looked down and didn't answer.

"All of a sudden you get it in your head to talk and now you can't make yourself do it?" Tyler's voice was

raw and angry and he was dismayed at his own lack of self-control.

Will looked up, eyes burning. "You want to give me a chance?"

"So just tell me. I'm getting tired of trying to figure you out."

Will opened his mouth. Closed it. He swiped a hand over his jaw. His shoulders sagged and he stared

down at the floor.

Tyler breathed deep, trying to tamp down his emotions. He squatted in front of Will and caught his gaze,

laid a hand on his thigh. He moved it gently up and down, feeling the soft old denim material, the heat that

came through it. "C'mon, Will."

"Tyler…" Will said, his voice low. He looked at his partner, opened his mouth again, then glanced down

at the hand stroking his thigh. When his eyes found Tyler's again, they were softer, clearer, but he couldn't

seem to find his voice. Tyler stared back, knowing there was something important in the look, but unable to

grasp what it was. Will grabbed his beer and threw back a long drink. Tyler watched the line of his throat,

watched it bob as he swallowed. He remembered the feel of it against his lips, scraping his teeth over the

skin, hearing Will's deep groan, feeling it on his lips and tongue.

Tyler closed his eyes. He was raw, walking a razor's edge, waiting for something to happen between

them, his body getting ready to react, to defend, to yell. To grab Will and hold him, or hit him. Taste him.

Can't do this. He got up too abruptly and staggered. Will crumpled the can in his hand, watching him.

Tyler paced to the far wall, then wheeled back, raking a hand though his hair. "Jesus, it's like pulling teeth!"

Will gave him a long, level look, then got up and headed into the kitchen, returning with two beers in

hand. Tyler opened his and took a very long drink.

"I don't know what either of us is doing, Ty. I just know it's not working on the job."

"You want to talk about the job." Tyler's frayed temper snapped. "Great. Just great."

Will watched him, stood up, hesitated, then looked at Tyler again. His face hardened. "Fuck it." He

walked to the door, put a hand on the knob and gripped it tightly. He flexed his fingers.

Tyler saw it clearly--Will walking out, the sound of the door snicking shut. He saw the emptiness of the

apartment, the slow silence blanketing everything like a cold snow, and he wondered if Will would ever

come back once he left. Not long ago he'd have bet his life the answer was yes, but the ties between them

had stretched so thin.

His stomach did a slow somersault, then dived downward. No and no. Not acceptable. He went to Will,

reached out. His hand hovered, finally lowered to Will's back.

All the stiffness ran out of Will's body. He sagged against the door and the hand on his back stayed, not

moving but still creating heat. Touching. "What I want, Tyler…" Will said to the door. "What I want. I want

what we used to be. Why can't we be what we used to be?"

Tyler leaned close. "Sounds easy, doesn't it? We used to read each other in all the right ways. If one

moved left the other went right. But that was before we fucked," he said, using the word deliberately,

harshly. "Now what's left of us after we stopped is here in this room."

"So, what's the problem--we started or we stopped?" Will's voice was slow, tired.

"Both, I guess. What does it matter?"

"If it doesn't matter to you why're we here now?" Will leaned his head against the door.

"Dammit, will you look at me when you talk? Don't put words in my mouth, don't make me sound like I

don't want to fix this. You called it off after we started again, you asshole, you couldn't handle it." Tyler's

voice grew faster and louder until he was yelling.

Will turned slowly and faced him, his face naked, all the hardness gone. "Tyler…we took a risk. Both of

us." His voice was measured, countering Tyler's ire. "We knew it and we did it anyway. Where's that leave

us?"

Fucked, that's where. "I guess…" Tyler shrugged. "Just doing the best we can. I'm dealing, Will--" ignoring

the derisive sure you are in his own head, "--but you don't like how things are going because of it."

"You think you're dealing, acting like you're alone out there, like you don't have a partner anymore?"

"You think you're doing better?" A muscle jumped in Tyler's jaw, and his eyes were slits.

"You know--" Will started, then sighed, visibly forcing himself to stop. "Goddamn, this is tiresome."

"You don't want to deal with it? Don't deal with it, Will," Tyler said. This was all a broken record and a

bad dream. "Nobody's making you do anything."

Will's eyes narrowed. "You still want it--us. Right? I think that means we need to deal with it. One way

or another."

Tyler stared at him, his breath beginning to come hard, his nostrils flaring. He couldn't, could not do this.

"Admit it," Will said, his voice low music.

Tyler moved closer to the sound of it, closer still, couldn't help or stop himself until Will's warmth was

all along the front of his body. He shrugged. "Okay."

"Okay?" Will looked stunned at the easy capitulation, stuttered a little over the word.

"Yeah, okay. I want it. Want you. Never stopped, never even began to know how to stop wanting. You

happy? No, you're not. And that's the real problem. You don't know what you want."

"I tried, Ty," Will said impatiently. "I can't do it, can't--dammit, can't do what we did together and then

watch you with other people. Couldn't work the same way together--"

"I heard all the words before, all right? We couldn't keep our fucking hands off each other, couldn't leave

it alone. Seeing other people was supposed to make it okay, Will! Wasn't it?" Inches separated them and

Tyler's body vibrated like a tuning fork, pulling him forward.

"Yeah, that worked out really well. Fuck it, Tyler, just fuck it." Will's words fell one over the other. "It's

done. I can't do it."

"Yeah, I got that memo already. Now you get it. You don't want me, you need to let me move on."

"Got it." Will turned again and grabbed the doorknob.

"Got it," Tyler repeated. "That easy, huh?" His gut tightened. "Except you're a liar. You don't know how

to let go. You wanted me to know none of them meant shit to me, none of them were what I wanted and

you're right. They weren't, never had a prayer of it and you never let me forget it." He took a step and

slammed both hands against the door on either side of Will's head, feeling something irrevocable shift

inside. No going back. "None of them were you. Nobody feels like you, fucks like you," he whispered.

"Ty. Stop."

"No. Just…no."

Will closed his eyes and leaned harder on the door. "Think you can make me want it, Ty?"

"You miss us. I miss us." Tyler drew closer until his body brushed Will's. Their heat mingled. "It's all or

nothing with us, in bed or out. Always."

"I'm trying to deal so I can stay on the job with you," Will answered, head down. "Isn't that what you

want?"

"You're not scared of how this affects the job. You're just trying to stop a runaway train, walk away from

us. Because you don't know how to be an us or even dream it anymore. But I'm here, Will, right here."

Tyler's left hand came around Will's chest and snaked around him, pulled him against his own chest. Will

stopped breathing, then started again, faster. Tyler pulled again, drawing him around and Will let him,

looking into his face. Tyler's hand drifted up under the bottom of his shirt, moved to the waistband of his

pants and up to the smooth skin of his stomach. His fingers spread wide and held still, feeling the skin

beneath rise and fall.

"Maybe I'm just getting you to admit what you do want." Tyler's voice was a low murmur. His other

hand wrapped around Will's neck beneath the hair and pulled a little, not forcing, but wanting, waiting.

Will's breath was warm on his face. Tyler touched his mouth to Will's and held it there.

Will's mouth opened suddenly, taking him, sucking him in. Tyler's hands bunched in Will's hair and

yanked him down close, closer, lips grinding into his, pushing Will's body against the door with his, trying

to find a way inside. A low sound came out of Will's throat with every breath.

Then suddenly Tyler was flying backward, the force of it causing him to stumble back into the couch. He

stared at Will, blinked, trying to focus on where and what he was away from Will's body, his mouth. Will's

face was all stone angles, his eyes cold heat. "I can't do this."

Tyler stared at Will, panting, something huge threatening to break free from all he'd been holding back.

Fucking crazy. It was all crazy. He'd lay down his life for Will, do anything for him, and he thought maybe

Will would do the same for him, even now. But he didn't know who Will was. He was just some stranger

who wanted Tyler to confess what he wanted and then spit on it.

Tyler smiled, just a little one-sided, then wider at the nonplused look on Will's face. Crazy that there

were no bounds, that he'd do anything at all for someone he didn't recognize anymore. Joke's on me. He

snickered, then laughed, bending, trying very hard to keep to the laughter and not let it go anywhere else,

thinking about dying for someone and something that had already died. He put a hand to his stomach and

leered at Will's bulging crotch, felt his face do it, stiff like a puppet. "You've got a funny way of showing

how much you don't want it."

Will's fair skin flushed and Tyler kept laughing, sharp, as if he'd broken something in the process of

trying to keep it going. He wondered what he'd do after he couldn't laugh anymore. Then he couldn't, so he

stopped. He watched Will, saw the concern creeping over his expression, warring with the coldness of the

stranger he'd become. Tyler thought about knocking it off his face. He didn't want his concern.

He turned and walked into the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror. His hands went for the

drawer but he didn't look. He kept watching himself, eyes distant, almost shocked, face pale, grin plastered

over the white lips and looking nothing whatsoever like a grin. His fingers found what he looked for, trying

not to think about why he looked for it. He put it in his pocket and slammed the drawer hard. It made a

cracking sound and didn't go all the way back in.

"Tyler!" Will called at the noise.

Tyler took one last look at the mirror. The grin fell off his face to the ends of the earth--there and then

gone. He didn't recognize who he saw after it fell. First Will and now himself. Strangers.

Who are these masked men?

God, don't let me do this.

He walked back out.

"You break something?" Will's words were clipped.

Tyler walked to him and kissed his neck, just below the jaw line. Will jerked, surprised, but didn't pull

away.

"You're acting crazy. You know that, right?" The coldness in Will's face slipped, shattered all at once like

a mask gone brittle and below was a flash of agony, his face twisting, trying to pull it back out of sight. His

hand reached, pulled away, then touched Tyler's face. "Don't do it this way, Tyler. Don't tear us up."

Tyler's head whipped up. "Don't tear us up? Don't tear us up!" he yelled. "What a fucking joke, Will, you

stand there and tell me you want to go back when you know there's nothing left. You hypocrite, you son of

a bitch, you came here acting like you wanted to straighten things out when you meant to tear us up."

Slowly he moved back. "Well, let me help you get back on track so you can finish."

"I…" Will cleared his throat, the twisting thing back on his face again. "No. I didn't want it to go this

way."

Every line of bewilderment and pain in Will's face made Tyler's gut tighten. He couldn't look at it and he

couldn't look away. Trapped. Nowhere to turn, no way out. "Too fucking bad. You want it finished, say it," he

said over the cacophony in his head, listening instead to the words coming out of his mouth, how they

sounded. Cold. Deadly. "Say it you asshole, you fucking coward."

"I've been trying to say it in every way I know, isn't that what you think?" Will's voice was perfectly

level, colorless. "So what, trying doesn't get me points?"

Like listening to a goddamned mannequin pretend it was human.

Tyler walked to the door and shoved his body tight against Will's heat. Will's eyes stared into his. Pale,

bleak winter green. He remembered before, times when Will was happy, how his eyes would open to Tyler,

showing what he kept most people from seeing. Tyler had never even realized how much was hidden until

he first saw that wide open look carrying all the weariness and gentleness and caring and pain that others

didn't get to see, buried as it had been under layers of protection against the job, against what they saw on a

daily basis. He used to look at Will just before he'd kiss him, faint tracks of blue-veined exhaustion under

the thin skin beneath his eyes when he was tired and he'd think how lucky he was to be the one to see him

this way. And then he'd lost it.

All the good intentions and reasoning and surety that there was a way, there was always a way was gone,

bled right out of him. He couldn't protect Will anymore, couldn't protect himself. There wasn't anything left

to protect.

He ran his hands up Will's arms, feeling hard, curving muscle beneath his fingers. He stopped, both

hands resting just where shoulders sloped into neck. He pushed Will hard, harder, into the wall with his

body. "Stop me," he said. His head kept roaring. "Try. Think you can?"

His mouth was on Will's, then his tongue in his mouth. Will didn't stop him, didn't move and Tyler's

hand moved to Will's crotch, rubbed the hardness there, top to bottom, slow and deliberate, blue jeans

dragging beneath his hand, and suddenly Will's chest heaved. He wrenched his mouth from Tyler's and

yelled something wordless--a protest, something angry maybe, from deep in his chest. But he didn't try to

get away and somehow that made Tyler's chest twist and flop like a caught fish.

He grabbed Will's hands and slammed them into the door, up and overhead. His mouth was against

Will's, his tongue forcing its way inside, pulse pounding, and he gripped Will's hands harder. He lifted

them up off the door, then slammed them back, rapping Will's knuckles into the wood. Again, harder. He

ripped his mouth away, buried it in Will's neck and bit down. Will grunted. Tyler pushed his cock against

Will's hard length, rubbed, glided up, then down. Will's knees gave and he started to slide down, but

Tyler's body caught him against the door and held him up. He grabbed Will's hair at the crown and banged

his head back into the wall, burying his face in Will's neck, tonguing the hollow triangle behind the

collarbone and licking the bite above. "This," Tyler said, ignoring the flaring hole eating up his chest, "this is

how you end it."

Will tried to shake his head, but Tyler held it firm. "No," Will whispered instead. "You don't get to make

that call, not alone."

Tyler pulled the bottom of Will's black shirt up with one hand. "Why would you stop me? I might do it

differently but it all comes out the same, right?"

Will's face twisted. "No."

Tyler yanked the shirt up higher. "Raise your arms or I'll rip the damned thing off."

Tyler let go of Will's hair and Will pulled the shirt over his head slowly, watching it drop to the floor.

Tyler looked him over, heat in his eyes, then brought his mouth back to Will's and covered it, brutal

pressure, teeth pinching Will's lip beneath. Will yelped. Tyler tasted blood, hot, metallic, and licked it,

gentle touches with the tip of his tongue, taking it from Will, exploring inside, teeth and tongue, slick wet

skin, slow, tasting, allowing himself to remember, heedless of pain.

Never, never anyone like him. His taste, the way their tongues entwined, the way his head tilted, the

way his mouth fit. Tyler opened his eyes. Will's breath was crazy fast, eyes closed, sorrow written all over

him.

Tyler couldn't look. His fingers trailed over Will's bare chest, finding a small, hard nipple and stroking

from the outside in to the peak, pinching, twisting it between his fingers until it flushed dark with suffused

blood. He bent and touched his tongue to it, breathed on it. Will moaned, his head surging forward away

from Tyler's grip and Tyler yanked his hair, banging his head back to the wall, teeth biting around his

nipple in warning. Tyler's other hand glided down Will's hard, heaving stomach to his belt and pulled the

end out of the buckle. He freed it, metal jangling quietly, then unbuttoned and unzipped Will's jeans, buckle

jangling again. His mouth was back on Will's like a dream, couldn't stop or help himself, and this time Will

kissed him back slowly, want in his every sliding movement of tongue against tongue. Tyler bit down on

the tender skin inside Will's bottom lip and Will made a stifled noise, body stiffening in protest, bowing out

from the wall. Slowly he relaxed again.

"I'm just doing what you want," he told Will. "Ending it. Making sure of it."

"I don't want it. I don't," Will said, and Tyler kissed him savagely, shut him up. Will's mouth responded,

challenged, devoured him. "You're right. I couldn't handle it. Doesn't mean I want an end. Ever," Will said,

panting, when he could speak.

"Shut up," Tyler grunted. He kissed the lobe of Will's ear, bit it, licked it. Made his way down his throat,

closed his mouth around Will's pulse there. He dug his teeth in, not hard enough to break skin, but hard

enough to hurt. Will's groan was long and low.

Tyler spoke against Will's pulse. "Take your pants off. Now. You believe me, Will, if you give me any shit

you're going to wish you hadn't." He heard his own voice and didn't recognize it. Tyler bit down again and

Will made a noise deep in his throat, turned inside out, pain or pleasure or pain and pleasure, then eased

off the wall. Tyler's fingers released their hold on his hair. Will kicked off his shoes, his hands going to the

waist of his pants. He bent, pulling them down along with his briefs.

"Get down. On your hands and knees." Tyler's breathing escalated, kept escalating. He couldn't control it.

Couldn't control himself anymore, all reaction, pain past his endurance.

"Ty--" Will reached out.

Tyler raised an arm and blocked him, knocking Will's arm aside. "Get down."

Will looked at him, searching, his eyes wide open just like in Tyler's memory, like he'd never thought

he'd see again. "I didn't know how to do it anymore, Ty. You're all I could see, bigger than everything.

Bigger than the world."

Tyler stared at him, the noise and chaos in his head almost physical, a red-hazed roar. He closed his eyes

and willed it away, spoke against it. "No, I'm not. I've never been."

"Look at me, Tyler. You never let me say the words, but it doesn't matter. It's true. You can't fuck it away

and you can't change it."

Tyler's eyes flew open. "Shut up." He sank down behind Will and pushed him forward so that Will had

to catch himself with his hands on the floor or fall. Pulling the tube he'd gotten from the bathroom out of

his pocket, he unscrewed the cap and threw it to the floor. He yanked his shirt off, then his pants and

underwear. Will didn't move, just held himself off the floor, back rising and falling, muscles shifting as he

breathed. He was long-limbed, tan, ass rounded and firm. Beautiful.

His. One more time.

Tyler knelt behind Will and mouthed the warm skin at the small of his back. He ran his tongue up Will's

spine, and Will shuddered. Tyler's hand reached down to settle roughly over a nipple, finger flicking,

teasing over the hardened flesh, then up again to his back, caressing the smooth skin. He settled behind Will

on his knees, squeezed the lube out and smeared it over himself, rocking back on his knees a little, pleasure

at the first touch. He jacked himself quick, twice, then let go. His cock stood upright, brushing Will's ass.

Tyler put both hands on Will, spreading him. He leaned down and touched his opening with the tip of

his tongue, then flattened it and lapped. Will pulled in a quick breath and jerked forward convulsively, but

Tyler grabbed him by both thighs and hauled him back. Will trembled beneath his touch and Tyler kept his

hands there, palms brushing over the hair of his thighs. He plunged his tongue deeper into the puckered

opening, sliding like butter into muscle and heat. Will's hips jerked involuntarily and he groaned long and

loud as Tyler's rhythm increased.

Reaching down between Will's legs, Tyler grabbed his cock, balls brushing softly against his arm. Will

made a stifled noise as the hand surrounded him, jerking him, skin sliding. Tyler's fingers ran over the head

and found the slit at the tip, rubbed the moisture there over his fingers.

Forming a ring with forefinger and thumb, Tyler slipped down over the head, then rubbed hard against

the edge of the crown on the way up. Again, down and up, just over the edge and then beneath it, faster,

Will sucking in air, stomach muscles tensed. Tyler licked and mouthed over Will's back, breathing in his

scent, breathing him in. He reared up, guiding his cock to Will's ass, rocking against it. He pushed in a little

and rocked more, pushed, and entered him.

Will made a low grunt of pain, strong muscles protesting, clamping down over Tyler's cock. Tyler

pushed again, harder and Will's back hitched like a sob. Sweat popped out over his body. Tyler grew still,

staring down at the smooth, glistening back.

"Goddammit, Tyler, do it!" Will yelled suddenly. Tyler looked down to where their bodies joined. His

hands tightened on Will's hips. "Do it, do it now!" And Tyler pushed, slid deeper, all the way in. The

muscles of Will's back and arms turned to rock and his head hung down low, face hidden from Tyler.

Tyler's hand surrounded Will's straining cock, leaping at his touch. He pumped him, kept stroking, and

Will groaned helplessly as Tyler started moving inside him. Swift, short strokes, then longer ones, tightness

and fire building around him and inside him. Will's breathing was loud, harsh, his face turned away into

his arm.

Tyler listened to it.

He lowered himself down to the broad back and buried his face in the hot, sweating skin, tried to bury

his grief in it. Laying his other hand on Will's back, he held it there, still. "Will," he whispered. "Oh, God."

Will didn't move, didn't speak.

Tyler stayed where he was, buried inside Will, taking what he didn't have the right to take.

"I was fucked up. Hurt. This doesn't hurt. Couldn't," Will spoke in the silence, his voice raw. He pushed

himself slowly back, deeper, deliberately sheathing Tyler fully inside. "I told you, you don't get to make this

call alone," he said and then he moved again, gasping when Tyler thrust back. "Oh God," he said, and then

laughed when Tyler tried to reach him to kiss him. "Fuck, Tyler. God, do it. I'm done being away from you."

Tyler's hand glided over his cock again, stroking in time with his own body, the noise, the cacophony

gone, replaced with blessed silence soon filled with Will's moans and deep, fast breaths. Wordless noises

urged him on, making up for all the times when he wanted this with everything he had, unable to have it.

He buried himself again and again, stroking in deep, pulling nearly out, Will's ass clenching his cock,

taking him in, pounding back to meet his stroke. Will's cock swelled even larger in his hands and he jacked

him faster, short, hard strokes down to the base, skin sliding under his fingers. Will screamed his name as

he came, pulsing under Tyler's tight grasp.

It pushed Tyler over the top. He came with Will's cock still throbbing in his hand and a profound sense

of having lost something he'd never get back trying to climb out of his aching chest.

Chapter Ten

Will winced at the morning sun flooding in through the windows. "Why in the hell don't you have some

decent curtains?" he grumbled. "Can't even sleep in over here."

Tyler opened one eye. "Nothing wrong with my curtains."

"What the hell, they're see-through. Can't sleep." Will buried his head under the pillow.

"Sheers, Will. They're sheers. I like the sun in the morning."

"You're nuts."

"Will? I--"

"This about yesterday?" Will's voice was muffled by the pillow. "Because we're not doing this. I'm tired

of talking shit to death."

"Yeah, because I love to talk about feelings, Will," he said, sarcasm in every word.

Will rolled over and pinned Tyler's hands by his sides on the bed. "Just let it go." Will's mouth covered

his, kissed him. Tyler shoved him and Will fell back on the pillow and sighed.

"What I did, it wasn't something you should let go."

"You're wrong. It's the exact opposite. We've been in some shitty spots, Tyler. Seen a lot of shit, went

through worse." Will stopped, sighed again. "I don't need this from you. I had a hand in it, you know. I put

us through the ringer. I'm sorry."

"Goddammit Will, don't you tell me you're sorry. I'm the one who's trying to talk--"

"--it to death. Fuck, I know what it takes to make you crazy like that, make you step over the line. Maybe

I'm the only one who does. I did it anyway."

Tyler sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "What the fuck are we doing, Will?"

Will stared at him. "I don't know," he said. He leaned on an elbow over Tyler. "I just know this," and he

lowered his body slowly over Tyler's.

He left twelve hours later in the middle of the night. He never made it home.

Chapter Eleven

So many things between them that were unfinished, unknown. Stuff that got pushed to the back of the line

of things to deal with because of fear, because it was hard to look too closely, see what it all meant. Behind

other things called duty and the Holy Grail of Normalcy. Things that burned low in Tyler's gut with

nowhere to go, all the useless fears blowtorched away, leaving something implacable in its wake--the

single-minded intensity of his feelings for Will.

It can't be too late.

He'd find him alive or Andrew Myers was dead.

Chapter Twelve

Myers had broken into Will's car and waited for him, hunched down behind the front seat, rising up

quickly once Will was inside, pointing a gun to his temple. Then he'd plunged a needle into his arm. Will

tried to keep his eyes open but faded out within minutes, slumped over the steering wheel. Myers pushed

him over and drove the three blocks to where his own car was parked, then transferred Will into the car

and drove off.

Two hours later, Myers stood over Will's prone body, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. He leaned

over Will and tapped gray ash over his chest. Will was oblivious.

An idea occurred to Myers and he grinned, jerking the hem of Will's shirt upward. Myers took a last,

long drag and exhaled, smoke streaming from his nose. Calmly and deliberately, he placed the burning tip

of the cigarette on Will's bare stomach. Sweat popped out on Will's forehead and he twitched like a horse

shaking off a fly. Myers leaned closer, absorbed, leaning on the supine form as skin crackled around the

fading ember. Will moaned softly, eyebrows knitting. The smell of singed flesh rose in the room. Myers

removed the blackened butt from Will's skin. A small, dark circle with bright red edges swelled on the flat

stomach. He stared at the wound, his eyes focused inward. He put his finger on the weeping circle of flesh

and pressed deeply.

A soft, hurt sound came from Will and he opened his eyes. He looked around as if blind, gradually

blinking into focus the form leaning over him. Myers watched him without expression, his finger still

digging in the burn.

"It hurts," Will whispered. He tried to twist, get away, but didn't seem to have much control of his body.

He fumbled with Myers' hand.

Myers smiled. "We're going to have some fun together," he said low, curving his hand around Will's and

patting it. "Watch and see." He let go of Will and moved his hand to the burn, jabbing at it with a finger.

Will moaned. He stared up at Myers, uncomprehending, then fled behind closed eyelids.

He woke up sometime in the night to someone touching him, muttering. A name. Not his. Hands he

didn't want on his body. Then he sank into the blackness.

* * * *

The next morning Myers threw water in Will's face to wake him and hauled him to his feet, pushing him

into the next room. Will was staggering, but at least he could walk.

The house was very neat, almost austere, the living room merging into the dining room at one end. "This

is where you've brought me? Your place?" asked Will, his voice incredulous.

Myers hooked his foot around Will's ankle from behind. Will tripped and fell hard. Myers moved in front

of him and knelt down, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his face up to look at him. "You want to play

twenty questions? Yeah, okay. This is where I live, you stupid fuck. For the moment. When I'm done with

you, I'm gone." He leaned closer to Will, his breath stirring his hair. "Now your turn. Why are you so

interested in my family, huh?"

"Not interested in your family. Just doing my job."

"So it's your job to go to my house, see my wife, visit my daughter?"

"Protect them," Will said, "from you and anybody else that wants to hurt them. That's my job."

"Get up." Myers stood, kicking him in the side.

Will grunted, the breath driven out of him. He climbed to his knees, got to his feet with aching slowness.

"What'd you give me?"

"Knowing isn't going to help you any." Myers shrugged. "Ketamine. Got it from the hospital. Here you

go." He pulled a high-backed wooden chair from the dining room to the living room. He gestured to it.

"Sit." Will stood still, swaying. Myers grabbed him by the collar and pushed him into the chair. His arms

were jerked backward and tied behind him.

"I answered your question. What about you? Why'd you bring me here?"

"She was going to leave me. She left me."

"And she isn't now?"

Myers hit him and Will rocked back with the blow. Slowly, Myers straightened up. "She left. You're the

closest thing I can find to a reason why."

"What do you want from me?"

"Why'd you go to my wife's house? Did you think you could take her away from me? Take Andrea?"

Myers slapped him again, Will's head slamming to one side.

"Nobody took them! They were already gone!" Will yelled, galvanized, sounding more miserable than

anything. His cheek was red and swollen.

"I want you to tell me where they are." Myers's voice deepened. He moved to an end table and pulled a

gun from the drawer. He pointed it between Will's eyes. Will stared up at it and grew still.

"They're hiding. Tell me where. Tell me what you said to make them go."

Will's gaze dropped and he stared at the floor, concentrating. A thin trickle of blood ran from his lip. "I

told Andrea…told her I know how it hurts to trust someone and have them hurt you, that you're a sick

bastard, that dying's too good for you. Told her to trust me. Told her I'd help her." Will looked up, meeting

Andrew's eyes. He grinned. "Told her you're as good as fucking dead, you goddamned pervert." He knew it

was suicide, but there were no brakes on his mouth and he couldn't seem to stop the contempt,

remembering Andrea's pale, still face.

When the calloused hand came down over Will's face, he jerked back. Too late. Fingers pinched his

nostrils shut. Myers's other hand came down over his mouth, pressing firmly against his lips. He loomed

over Will, straddling him. Will tried to pull air in, but it was like sucking wind through a brick wall.

Panicked, his eyes rolled upward. He tried to whip his head from side to side, but Myers held on tightly.

Myers's face broke into pieces, blackness filling the spaces between. It crept over everything until Will

slipped away.

When he opened his eyes, seconds, minutes, or hours later, Myers was in a chair facing him. Waiting.

Will licked his lips. His mouth was dry as a bone. "How long have I been out?" Myers didn't answer. He

watched him. Something in his face made Will remember hands on his body in the dark, stroking when he

hadn't been able to move or stop them. "You got a thing for me?" he taunted, furious, and underneath it,

sick. His gorge rose.

Myers's face drained of color. He stood, moving stiffly as if his limbs had lost all fluidity.

Will closed his eyes again, bracing himself, and waited.

Chapter Thirteen

Tyler had a tip, was supposed to meet a couple of guys who might know something. He met them at the

back door of a strip joint in an alleyway. Trashcans overflowed and wrappers, papers and food cans lay on

the gray pavement, winking in the sunlight. The two men were there waiting, leaning against a wide door

painted a thousand times over, current shade a dull blue. One of them was dark-haired with straight, thin

hair, brown skin stretched over hollow cheekbones. The other was blond, bushy-headed, tall. Mutt and Jeff.

They tried to feed him some slick bullshit, said they knew where Will was, would take him there, but

first they wanted some money. He looked at them and their mouths moved furiously, talking, all of it

heartless, soulless, worthless. Nothing to help him save Will.

He hit Jeff first, the motormouth who was slicker than spit on glass, hit him square on the nose. He

screamed and clutched at his face, blood flooding down to his shirt and soaking in. Mutt tried to jump

Tyler but Tyler kicked him in the gut before he got so much as a finger on him. Mutt fell and Tyler stomped

the gut beneath him on the ground.

"You motherfucker, oh shit oh God my fucking nose," Jeff said. Mutt gasped and tried to breathe through

the phlegm rattling noisily in the back of his throat.

It made Tyler a little nauseous--the phlegm, Jeff's blood. Not the sight or the sounds of it, but the fact

that he'd caused it.

Save it for the one who deserves it. Save it for Myers.

These guys were small-time hustlers. He'd met up with them only because he was desperate and they

were stupid. Their bad luck.

Their groans and curses followed him down the alleyway as he walked off.

Chapter Fourteen

He'd managed to work one of his arms free. He kept his wrist hanging in the loosened knot of rope, hoping

Myers wouldn't notice. Then Myers gave him more of the drug. He called it a booster shot. Will promptly

threw up. He didn't remember if he'd thrown up the first time. Myers held a bowl up under Will's face as if

he expected it, though.

A minute later Will dozed off. Pain woke him up. His face throbbed and burned. The skin, the muscles,

everything was sore. A crazy conviction took hold of Will--that nothing much was left keeping his face

attached to the rest of his head. Maybe a few tendons. And if Myers hit him just one more time, wasn't it

possible that his face might slide right off onto the floor? Which was horrifying in a nightmarish, far-off way,

but it was funny, too. He snickered and the movement sent pain burrowing deeper. God.

"Look where you're at, and you still find something to laugh at. Why don't you tell me what's so funny."

"It, uh, I'm just…" Will stammered. Myers slammed him across the face. Will's head rocked to the side,

then settled slowly back. It occurred to him that he'd been wrong about his face. Still there, he mused. He

smiled. A sick smile, but there it was. He was fucking wasted.

Myers pushed the gun up under his chin. "How's this for funny?"

"Fuck you," Will said, then realized what he'd said. Too late.

"That gonna be your last words?" Myers dug the muzzle of the gun in deeper, watching him with no

expression at all, and it hit him that he was going to die.

Don't let Ty be the one to find me, Will prayed. His heart trip-hammered in spite of the drug. Shut your eyes.

Just a voice. Voices can't pull triggers. Can't kill. He took in a last convulsive breath, held it. The world stopped

turning.

Myers pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked on an empty chamber. Myers had found something to laugh over, but Will was gone,

sinking in blackness below the surface of reality. It endured until a voice came after him.

Wake up.

Will's eyes dragged open and Myers was there, towering over him. He would always be there. The

perspective was all off--the man's face was too close, distorted, while his body stretched away behind him.

Keep your eyes open.

He didn't want to wake up. To wake up was to hurt, and Will was through with that if he could help it.

Will, Tyler's voice said to him. This bastard is done with you, understand?

He tried to move, but a dark ocean of soothing warmth blocked his efforts to open his eyes and surface.

He didn't know how to cross the expanse.

I'm sorry, he told him.

No, not sorry. You open your fucking eyes and you keep them open. Now!

I'm so tired, Ty, Will protested, suddenly wanting to throw up again. He swallowed.

Don't leave me behind. The warmth and fierceness of it tightened Will's chest.

"One last time. Where are they?" Meyers said.

Will forced his eyes open again, a part of him mourning the darkness. He dragged his free hand out of

the rope and balled it into a fist, swinging it at Myers. It felt like slinging a limp noodle, but it was the last

thing Myers expected. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance. Will lunged forward and felt a sharp, hot pain

as the weight of the chair yanked his right arm backward into a position no arm was meant to be in. He

grabbed a rung with the tied hand anyway and slung the chair around in a loop from the floor. It hurt like

hell, but the thing flew up in the air to crash into Myers' head. He went down like a felled tree. Will tumbled

after him, landing on his back, still gripping the rung of the chair.

Myers didn't move. Blood trickled from a gash at his temple. Will saw the blood and grinned, filled with

a fierce glee. He crawled unsteadily to his feet and dragged the damned chair behind him, yelling

incoherently when it snagged on the coffee table. He freed the chair leg in a sluggish haze that took forever.

When it caught again he didn't even look back, just kept pulling until his arm felt like fire ants were

chewing at the socket. Turning, he glared at the stereo, kicked it. Kicked it some more and pushed it until

the thing moved to free a path wide enough for the dragging chair. He picked up the phone, dialed Will's

number, but it didn't connect. He cursed and hung up, tried again.

"Ty," Will mumbled. "It's me. Will." The phone slipped from his grip. He picked it up with sweaty fingers.

His head spun and he fell to the floor, the rope connecting him to the chair ripping his arm back. He

groaned.

"Will!" Tyler was shouting into the phone. "Answer me! Where are you?"

"Hurry, 'fore he wakes up."

"Will. Listen to me. Tell me where you are."

"Don't know. Come and get me."

"Okay. Just keep talking to me. Don't hang up, you understand?"

"Can't talk. Wanna sleep."

"Will! You have to stay on the line. We have to find out where you're calling from."

When Will woke next, the phone was on the floor. He was still tied to the chair. He made a feeble

attempt at working the knots loose with one hand, then gave up and lay on the floor, the worn carpet

coarse against his fingertips. He wondered when the nut case would wake up. He knew he had to restrain

him somehow, but in spite of himself, Will's eyes closed and he slipped into one bad dream after another.

None, however, as bad as what he saw the next time his eyes opened.

Myers was crawling toward him, gun in hand. "I'm coming for you," he said. Dried blood caked the side

of his face. Will could only watch and curse himself for failing to restrain the psycho in time. If he moved

now, Myers would blow him away.

"Nothing left but you, me, and some unfinished business," Myers said, his face a fright-mask of blood

and promised death.

You're fucking sick," Will breathed. He couldn't look away from the gun.

The front door crashed open and flew against the wall. Myers didn't even turn. He aimed at Will.

"Nothin's gonna save you this time."

Gun in hand, Tyler crouched, aimed and fired. Other officers flooded inside the door as a red hole

exploded into Myers' forehead. He crumbled to the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't move.

Tyler strode quickly to Will's side. "Hey," he said, pulling Will to sit up. "You with me?"

Will flinched, a helpless sound escaping his throat.

"Will, it's me," Tyler said, shaking him a little.

Something flickered over Will's face and his gaze moved slowly from Myers's body on the floor to Tyler.

His body relaxed. "Yeah."

Tyler patted his arm and stared into Will's eyes. "He drugged you, right? The goddamn piece of shit. Do

you know what he gave you?"

Will met his gaze, his eyes angry and miserable at the same time. "Ketamine. Stole it from the hospital.

It's pretty much worn off or I wouldn't be moving. Had some trouble breathing at first. I remember--" he

said and then stopped.

"Remember what?"

Will didn't answer, staring at Myers' body.

Tyler reached out slowly, warm hand covering Will's, fingers making soothing circles over the skin. "He's

dead," Tyler said, grim satisfaction in his voice.

"He gave me a fucking date rape drug," Will said and laughed, the sound rasping like a dried cornhusk.

Then his shoulders hitched and Tyler pulled him forward into his arms.

Chapter Fifteen

Will stripped his clothes off and stood in Tyler's shower, the water sluicing down his body. He stayed there

until the hot water ran out and goose bumps broke out over his skin. Finally, he sat down in the corner. The

water ran over his head, blinding him, and rolled off his chin.

"Will?"

Will didn't respond.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

Tyler whipped the plastic curtain aside. "Aw, Will."

Will didn't move. "I'm fine."

Tyler reached out and tested the water. "Jesus, it's freezing! Will. Get out of there."

Will just sat, staring up at Tyler's stern face through the cascading water. He looked so normal. Button-

up shirt, slim-hipped in blue jeans, head of wavy dark hair cocked to the side. Endearing, irritating as hell.

Thank God Tyler was still the same. Will had a sudden urge to cry. It pissed him off.

"You want me to come in there and get you?"

Nothing.

"Shit," said Tyler, and stuck a foot in the shower.

"Get out of here!"

"You coming out?" returned Tyler, seemingly unfazed.

"Yeah. Get out of my way." He stood, uncurling himself.

Tyler's gaze fastened onto the ugly circular marks on Will's stomach and chest. They were deep red,

three of them. "What the hell--" Tyler exclaimed and stepped in the shower, clothes and all.

Will pushed him roughly out of the shower and followed.

"Let me see," Tyler demanded.

Will sank wearily against the sink while Tyler bent to examine his wounds.

"Why." It was a command, not a question. Tyler's face was pale and set.

Will shrugged wearily. "He was a freak, I don't know. Can I have a towel?" It didn't bother him to be

naked in front of Ty, but Ty looking at the burns the way he did, then at Will's face--that made him feel

naked.

"Fucking why--!" Tyler yelled, then got hold of himself.

Will said nothing, just grabbed for a towel, averting his eyes as if he were ashamed.

Tyler's gut twisted into a knot. "Did you tell the doctors about this?"

"Didn't have to, they saw."

"So you just neglected to tell me." Tyler's hands were in fists.

"Ty. Clothes," said Will and walked out of the bathroom.

When Tyler was able to move, he went to the drawer and got Will's clothes that he'd picked up from his

house. Will began to dress.

Chapter Sixteen

four days later

Will just looked out at him from behind some mental wall when Tyler asked about Myers. It was a wall

Tyler couldn't go through, over or under.

Tyler went to the fridge, twisted the cap off a brew and handed it to Will. He sat down on the couch and

looked up at him. "This thing is getting the best of you."

"What are you, my shrink?" Will tossed back most of the beer, then slammed the glass bottle into the

garbage so hard that it broke.

Tyler never even looked toward the sound of shattering glass. "I have a vested interest in this one. So,

whatever it takes."

Will sighed, rubbed his forehead and turned on the TV until he couldn't stand the noise anymore. He

clicked it off and grabbed another beer. He wanted to pace, but he didn't want to attract Tyler's attention.

He drank a third beer, turned the TV on, then off again and finally suggested playing cards. Tyler couldn't

play cards worth a shit.

Okay, maybe it was Will who couldn't play worth a shit. Whatever.

"Will, you okay?" Tyler asked him, then leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. He hiccupped.

They'd been through six card games, some seriously crappy television and God knows how much beer.

"Quit asking me if I'm okay, I'm goddamned good and sick of it." Will was quiet a minute. "We have any

more beer?"

"This shit ain't gonna go away just because you want it to."

"Oh my God," said Will, and the words sounded like swearing.

"What?" Tyler said, leaning forward.

"You've been reading psychology books. Haven't you? That's what all this shit is about," Will accused. He

started laughing and couldn't seem to stop, but then he did.

Tyler's brows lowered. "Okay, I've had enough of this," he said, erupting. He waved his arms about.

"Shit. You're a smart guy, use your brains. You've got stuff to work out. Talk."

"That's what the department shrinks are for, right?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Like you'd talk to them."

"Did you get us another beer yet?"

"I'd hate to go back to school for a license to practice shrinkism just to get you over this. And we've had

enough beer. It's tomorrow already, dumb nuts, see the light coming through the window?"

"Shrinkism," Will repeated, laughing and Tyler grinned. Slowly the humor left Will's face. "You saw the

report."

Tyler nodded slowly. "Yeah, I did. I read a report. I didn't hear it from you."

"You're driving me crazy, you know that, right?"

"Backatcha."

Will nodded, swallowed and cleared his throat, looking off in the distance. "Let's see, what did good old

Myers do. Mmm, he smothered me," he said, looking thoughtful. "Pinched my nose and mouth shut a good

long while. Just about passed out. Or how about when he put a gun to my head and fired it? Let me tell

you, I thought it was lights out for me. The gun wasn't loaded, but I didn't know. That was after the

cigarette burns, which I barely remember. I just wanted to stay alive, Ty, okay, and he had the ticket to that

ride. Though I remember saying stuff to him…not smart." Will's voice was perfectly mild, but his face was

white as a sheet of paper and he stared off at nothing.

All the blood rushed to Tyler's extremities, his face flushing at the thought of Will with a gun to his head,

waiting for that last pull on the trigger. "You shit. You didn't put all that in the report."

"He's dead already, so. You saw the cigarette burns. We both knew I wasn't on a picnic," said Will, still in

that expressionless voice.

"Dammit, you got away, knocked Myers out and called the cavalry, for God's sake. Myers lost.

Remember? So why does it feel like he won? What aren't you telling me?"

Will shook his head. "When they letting you back on duty?"

"It's SOP for what went down, you know it and you're damn well not going to distract me, Will." Tyler

took a deep breath. "Look. I'm not going to act like I have all the answers for us anymore, okay?"

Will nodded.

"But I want to help."

"I know," Will said so low Tyler could barely hear it.

* * * *

In the middle of the night Tyler opened his eyes. The door, he'd heard the door. He jumped up from Will's

couch and staggered, still half-asleep. Went to the bedroom, looked at the bed. Empty. God, not again.

Tyler cursed, grabbing his jeans from over the back of the chair. He struggled into them, nearly falling

down before he got them up, slid into his shoes and stumbled outside.

"Will!" he yelled, not caring how late it was and ran out to the road. He saw the lone figure a block ahead

in the glow of a streetlight and jogged after him.

"Dammit, Will, this shit isn't working for me, running off in the middle of the night," he said, panting.

His head was still dizzy with sleep. He bent down to adjust the heel of his shoe.

"Nothing's working," Will mumbled, striding down the darkened road. His hair fluttered around his

head as a breeze came up.

"What?" asked Tyler, hurrying to keep up. Will ignored him, just put his head down and walked.

"C'mon, Will. Talk to me," he said, struggling to keep his voice low.

"All the walks in the world. They don't work." Will wouldn't look at him. He watched his own slanting

shadow instead.

"We're going back to talk about this. Now."

"Would you get over this touchy feely shit? I'm fine," Will said.

Tyler snorted. "Yeah. I can see that."

"Shut up," Will snarled, and walked on. "Stop following me," he added, flinging it over his shoulder.

"Going with you," Tyler said stubbornly. Will threw up his hands in disgust. "I can't get over the touchy

feely shit," Tyler added, voice rising. "It's in my character."

Will threw him a disbelieving look back but didn't stop, his stride determined.

Tyler would have bet he had a destination in mind, yet minutes passed into an hour and they didn't stop

or slow down. Suddenly, the level of sheer desperation in each step hit Tyler between the eyes. It was as if

there were a magical number of steps that might somehow do the trick, make things better. "Can we go

home now?" he finally asked gently.

Will stopped and looked at him, the shadowed light emphasizing exhausted rings beneath his eyes,

sweat sparkling on his face. "Don't ask me about it anymore. This is the end of it."

Tyler stepped closer, fixing his eyes on the bruised gaze of his partner. He didn't answer, just wrapped

his arms around him. Will made a surprised sound, then sagged into him. Tyler rubbed his back.

"I mean it, Tyler," said Will, pulling back. "It's the end." He swiped at his eyes and looked at his partner,

almost pleading.

"Yeah. It's the end, that's why you're walking all night long instead of sleeping." Tyler's voice was as soft

as he could make it.

Will made a noise, half-laughter, half-something else and stood there in the dark, arms hanging heavily

at his sides. Tyler waited.

"Myers had a thing for me."

"What do you mean?"

"He had a goddamn thing for me. Equal opportunity freak, wanted to fuck everyone he kidnapped." Will

laughed. It was an ugly sound. "The drug he fed me pretty much kept me down and out for the count."

Tyler stood stock-still. "What--"

"I remember a little. Couldn't move, though."

"Will," Tyler breathed.

"No, c'mon. He just…touched. But it was weird, not being able to do anything about it."

"If he wasn't dead now--"

"He is. Give me a break, I'm a cop. I know how bad it can get and this isn't it," Will muttered at last. "I've

just got to…get it settled. Live with it."

"Will--"

"Ty, I'm going to be okay. I just need a little time. Can't you just believe me this one time?"

There was silence, then, "Okay."

"Yeah?" Will's face was skeptical.

"It's hard to back off, no lie." Tyler shrugged. "But I'm trying. A lot of shit has changed, and I don't

know…" he sighed. "Can we go home now?"

Both of them looked up and down the dark street.

"Uh...Will? Just where the hell is home, anyway?"

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning Tyler was thinking about fixing breakfast or saying to hell with it and making a fast food

run when the bathroom door opened. Will stepped out, rubbing a towel over his head, another one tied low

around his waist. Tyler's mind blanked on the breakfast issue, first wincing at the cigarette burns dotting

Will's skin and then stuttering to something wordless, watching his chest and arm muscles move as he

rubbed his wet hair. Like a magnet, Tyler's gaze dropped to the line of hair trailing out of sight beneath the

edge of Will's towel.

Will combed his fingers through his hair and looked up, taking in that Tyler was watching him. He

walked to Tyler and bent over him in the kitchen chair, mouth skating over Tyler's like a breeze at first,

then came back harder and settled in.

Will tasted like toothpaste and his breath was warm against Tyler's face. His hand curved around the

back of Tyler's head and pulled him closer, his tongue moving slow, rubbing against Tyler's. Tyler groaned

and pushed back, thinking about how he'd almost lost this, how someone had almost taken Will for good

where he'd never be able to touch him again.

Will made a small noise in his throat, digging his fingers into Tyler's scalp.

When Tyler had shown up and put a bullet in Myers' head, Will hadn't recognized him for a minute.

He'd flinched and made a helpless sound. It sounded a lot like the sound Will made now. Tyler pushed

away, a knee-jerk reaction.

"You don't want this?" Will sounded confused. It made Tyler's insides hurt. "Ty?" Will asked again,

straightening.

"What I did to you. Before that bastard got you." Tyler stopped.

"It's okay," Will protested.

Tyler shook his head, made himself look at Will. "What I did was no better than what Myers did to you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Will's eyes widened. "Don't compare yourself to that freak!" he

snapped.

It almost felt unbearable. "Took something from you. You didn't give it. I acted just like him. Worse. He

didn't care about you. But it didn't stop me."

"Listen to me, okay? I heard your voice in my head when Myers had me, you know that? You told me to

get up. Told me not to give up. Tyler, you're not him, you'll never be anything close to him." Will's hand

descended on his shoulder and squeezed.

"It doesn't change what happened." Tyler looked at him, trying not to let his desperation show, knowing

the words showed it anyhow but unable to stop. "That's not me, that can't be me. Is it?"

"Not you. Us," Will said fiercely. "We fucked up together. You pushed me, I pushed back. Pushed your

buttons."

Tyler nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're good at that, but I wouldn't leave you alone, either. I have to figure

out how that happened. I can't be that way ever again." He stared miserably at Will.

Will looked back, understanding dawning slow over his face. He closed his eyes for an instant. He looked

like a firing squad awaited him when he opened them again.

"We tried to go back to the way things were," Tyler said. "But what I need is for us to be friends again.

Not the way it was. We need to find whatever it is we still have now. I need my friend back, Will. Do you

think there's any way that can happen?"

Will was silent for a long time and Tyler watched him, thinking how worn out and stretched thin his

partner looked. It brought the essentials home to Tyler, all the clashes and misunderstandings and struggles

pared down and swept away before the strength of the two of them together, what he hoped for and

wanted from Will coming down to one thing.

He just wanted him to stay.

Will took a deep breath, green eyes wide open and stripped defenseless, looking younger than he'd

looked in a long time, and he told Tyler yes.

Chapter Eighteen

Joseph Neville died suddenly in the middle of September, a massive heart attack that dropped him on the

park trail where people jogged, where they walked their dogs, where he walked every morning. He

grabbed his chest and tried to say something, but the pain was too great and he couldn't get his breath to

speak. He dropped to his knees and then on his face in the dirt, shaded by the cool green of the trees

overhead, his mind full of questions, followed by thoughts of his wife and kids and sorrow for what they

had to face. His thoughts narrowed, then fled down a black hole of nothingness. By the time the ambulance

got to him, he was gone.

The station chief called Tyler back in from the field in the early afternoon to give him the bad news. Tyler

talked to his mother, her voice sounding dry and light coming through the line, like there wasn't much left

of her to talk to. Will sat down at a desk and watched his face as they talked.

Tyler let him drive him to his mother's house, but he didn't want Will to stay. Later that evening Will was

surprised when Tyler called and asked for a ride--for one thing, he figured there was plenty of family there

to give him a ride home, and for the other, he knew Tyler didn't want him around when he was this

vulnerable. The thought made Will feel unhappy and small and mean and untrustworthy. He tried his

damnedest to bury those feelings, pretty well succeeding. Now wasn't the time, it wasn't about him.

He pulled his car keys from the hanger by the door and went to pick up Tyler. He spotted Ty waiting for

him on the sidewalk when he pulled up to the Neville's old colonial home.

Tyler stared out the window and didn't speak for the twenty minutes it took Will to drive him home.

Will wanted to offer some comfort, but he didn't know how anymore. They were in unfamiliar territory,

trying to map out what they could and couldn't do and be to each other and still keep in bounds. He was

surprised again when Tyler asked him to come in, but followed silently as Tyler unlocked the door and

turned on the lamp by the couch, a warm circle of light spilling dimly over them.

They sat down. They didn't move or speak.

"Ty, what can I do? How can I help?" Will asked after the silence had stretched as thin as forever. His

voice sounded desperate even to his own ears.

Tyler's body seemed to hunch in on himself. He didn't answer.

Will put a hand out, cupping his warmth over Tyler's hand, thinking how cold it felt and remembering

when Anna had died, how they'd sat out the night on Will's couch. He remembered how Tyler had tried to

get through to him and kept trying until Will finally let him in. Tyler always knew how to get through to

him, but Will wasn't as naturally outspoken as Tyler, and anyway he and Tyler needed different things.

Then Tyler moved, his arms going around Will, his chest shaking against him as he cried. He didn't make

a sound. Will pulled Tyler closer and suddenly Tyler pushed him back against the couch, his mouth

lowering on Will's, his hands running over his body, frantic. Will's heart pounded, his breathing ratcheting

fast in his chest. His hunger and desperation roared awake, matching Ty's. But there was something else

coming through to Will, and maybe a selfish part of him didn't want to feel it in that moment between

them, but it didn't matter because he felt it anyway, the grief pouring out of Ty sharp and strong.

Will pulled away as gently as he could and grabbed Tyler's hand again, holding it and willing him to

understand.

Tyler's face was naked, his eyes red. "I want this. It feels like what I need," he said and his hand shook in

Will's. His face wrenched. "So why does it feel the same as when I--when I--"

Will swallowed hard and didn't look away. "It's not like then. Needing me doesn't hurt me, Ty. More like

the opposite, you know?" His insides drew up into a tight, hard ball, but he forced it down. His voice didn't

want to work, so he made it, made it sound strong. "You're my best friend. You always will be." Tyler

stared at him from out of his misery and hung on, and seeing that made the words come easier. "There's

nothing to worry about with me, Tyler. I've got your back."

They sat on the couch until the sun started to rise, Will's hand still covering Tyler's, and somehow

despite the pain between them or maybe because of it, Will felt something stir that he thought was long

gone.

Something that maybe felt like what they used to have.

Chapter Nineteen

two months later

The suspect's automobile was a tank. Huge. Tyler wondered how he could afford to put gas in the thing,

then remembered what they were chasing the guy for--holding up a convenience store. Which meant he

obviously couldn't afford it.

The car crashed though the closed gate of the factory and kept going until it hit a rusted gray dumpster.

The noise of metal on metal was terrific as Will stomped on the brakes and they both jumped out,

approaching on either side of the guy's vehicle. The door to the passenger side punched open and hit

Tyler's gun hand, the gun flying out over the graveled lot. "Hey," Will shouted, crouching, and the guy

jerked around and looked, his arm swiveling as he aimed. Tyler threw his body in through the open

window, grabbing him at the wrist and banging his arm hard on the dash. There was a dull crack and the

man yelled.

Will pulled the driver's side door open in a flash, gun pointed at the guy's forehead. "Don't move," he

said, panting.

"I oughta be mad at you," Tyler added, cuffing him. He pulled him out of the car. "Too fucking hot for a

chase." The man just glared at him.

"Lucky he can't drive worth a shit," Will said.

Tyler patted the suspect down before dragging him back to their car and shoving him into the back seat.

He clapped Will's shoulder. "I could use a beer, how about you?"

* * * *

"Glyce, sweetheart, you are completely and utterly tanked," Tyler said. The three of them sat on stools at

the counter, Will and Tyler on either side of her.

"Not often you're buying," she said, hiccupping. "Wouldn't want you to think I'm ungrateful." She smiled.

Tyler sighed, staring at her. "You are so gorgeous." Will tipped his beer, nodding solemn agreement, then

downed it.

Glyce shifted in her seat, flipping her hair back idly. She looked at one and then the other. "I know. What

do you think of a threesome? No charge."

Will coughed and couldn't stop, finally slamming a hand on the counter top for attention until Tyler

pounded his back, a little too gleefully. It made Glyce laugh. Will finally settled down and stopped

coughing. Glyce slowly picked up Tyler's hand and placed it over Will's on the counter, then placed her

own on top of both of theirs and pressed down, wrapping her fingers over them. Her eyes twinkled and

she looked slyly at both of them in turn.

Neither of them answered, didn't pull their hands away, but as the moment stretched on something in

their faces made Glyce's eyes widen, her gaze flying back and forth between them. "Holy shit," she

breathed, and Will and Tyler looked at each other, still saying nothing. "You're together?" She sat with it a

moment. "Explains a lot, actually."

Tyler squeezed Will's hand beneath his and Will smiled and stared at the floor, thinking how much Tyler

needed them to be together in any way left to them. Will had pushed him away so hard, too hard. He

wanted Tyler to have what he needed for once.

He looked up at Glyce. "What we are," he said, drawing it out, "is friends. Can't help if you bring your

fantasies to the table, babe."

Glyce looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said. "Whatever. Don't tell me then. Hell, you don't

have to tell anyone you don't want to, right?" She smiled at them, pleased with herself for some reason.

Tyler laughed, squeezing Will's hand again.

Chapter Twenty

Patricia and Andrea were staying at a relative's place, an old farmhouse in the foothills an hour and a half

out of town. Pat had told Will she thought they might stay. The area was peaceful, beautiful, the houses far

between, some a little run down. The sound of rushing water was never far off, coming down from the

mountains. There was a certain quiet neighborliness and sense of community, everybody pretty much

knowing everyone else, and Patricia's aunt and uncle had opened their home and lives to her and her

daughter as if they'd always belonged there. It was exactly what they needed.

It was good to see them again. Andrea had gained weight, had a healthy flush to her face and a smile

that came quicker and easier than Will and Tyler had ever seen. She didn't cling to Will as much as she had

when he'd visited before, and he knew she was finally beginning to deal with what had happened to her.

They'd arrived the day before and had dinner with the family, then played an impromptu game of

baseball with Andrea and her friends, who ran barefoot and giggling all over the backyard. They'd spent

the night in the area's only motel afterward. The next morning, they were called over for an early breakfast

of pancakes, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs and fruit. Patricia noticed how Tyler stared down the table at

all the food and assured him solemnly that fruit rendered the breakfast healthy. He rolled his eyes. Andrea

saw it and laughed.

Afterward, Tyler took Patricia and her aunt to the store while Will spent some time with Andrea wading

in the creek at the back edge of the property. When Tyler returned, groceries in the trunk, Will was off on

one of his walks. Andrea told him Will had headed out toward the old apple orchard.

He'd been quiet lately and Tyler knew something was on his mind, but he didn't press him. It was a fine

line, figuring out when Will needed space and when he went too far inside his own head. Tyler never used

to wait long, but he'd learned.

An hour passed and Tyler waited some more, until something in his head told him it was time. He stood

up. "I'm going after Will," he said. He walked out the door.

* * * *

It was still foggy outside, the light glowing white over the grass, mountains a blue haze. The air had a

pleasant coolness to it that wouldn't hold through the afternoon.

Will walked down the winding road, staring off at the treetops and thinking about Andrea and Pat, how

they'd found what they needed here. He thought about how it was possible for someone's need to replace

another's and how that was okay, that was good. He thought about how this might be the last walk he took

solely because he couldn't stand his own thoughts and how that was good, too.

And then he stopped thinking. He lengthened his strides, concentrating on the stretch and burn of

muscle, breathed in deep and felt the air rush into his lungs.

* * * *

The tree trunks curved away from the ground, black and knobby, and overhead the fog crouched and

curled over the wet blur of green leaves and green apples. The light streamed down through the fog in

shrouded lines of white clarity and the air held the sharp, sweet smell of things growing.

"Will!" Tyler shouted, the sound deadened by the moisture laden air. Leaves slipped and slid beneath his

steps. He kept calling, walking beneath the trees, but Will didn't answer.

In the end he found him through sheer luck, nearly walking past him. Will's long legs were stretched out

over the ground, his back against a tree, hair bright in the soft light. He looked down at his hands in his lap.

Something about his posture made Tyler grow still.

"Will?" he asked, his voice soft. "Are you okay?"

Will looked up, his face quiet and unguarded, a little tired. It made Tyler want to touch him. "I'm good,

Ty. Always good."

"Always good. Yeah." He lowered himself and sat beside Will and then grimaced. "Jesus. Coulda told me

the ground's wet." Will didn't answer, just looked back down again. Tyler sat and listened to the birds

calling. "Sounds lonesome," he said finally.

"Yeah. It does." Will's voice was soft.

Tyler lowered a hand to Will's thigh. Will jerked and Tyler raised his hand like he'd been scalded, then

made an impatient sound and lowered his hand again. He didn't move it, just held him there, feeling Will's

heat through his jeans. He closed his eyes.

"Ty?" Will said, low, uncertain.

"We made it back, didn't we? All the way. You're my best friend and I never want that to change." He

opened his eyes again. Will was staring at him, and Tyler couldn't read his face. He hesitated. "Don't be

mad at me, okay?"

"Okay. Best friends. But?"

"But. Once I told you something. I told you that if the time came for us, I'd be here." He smiled, a little

uncertain, then spread his arms. "Here I am. Now. If there's any chance." It sounded like a question and he

wasn't ready for the answer, not until he'd finished. He took a deep breath and rushed on. "Only I don't

want to pretend to be with anyone else. I don't want anyone else, period. It tore us up before and I hated it.

And I don't want to make up lies. I can keep quiet about us if you want, but if something happens and it all

comes out, I'm ready for it. Jobs are replaceable. You're not." He paused.

"Tyler, I--"

Tyler's stomach sank, but he kept his face from showing it. It took everything he had. "There's no

ultimatum here. We can stay the way we are if that's what you want. I mean it."

Will's hand lowered, crushing Tyler's fingers tightly beneath his own, the tired look gone now, his eyes

green and deep, alive. "Idiot," he said seriously. "You're not even giving me a chance to talk. So figure it

out." He leaned over and brushed Tyler's lips with his, then again with a little more pressure. He moved

back against the trunk and smiled slowly.

Tyler stared at him, then swung his leg over and straddled Will's body against the tree, leaning down

and kissing him, stroking his jaw. Will moaned into his mouth and all the hopes and feelings and want rose

from where Tyler had buried and denied them beneath guilt and self-recrimination and sorrow. He

couldn't stop kissing Will, touching him.

Will pulled back, breathing hard and looking a little dazed, and Tyler gave him a huge smile, beaming

down into his face, and kissed him again. Will laughed against his lips, the sound bringing everything

flooding in, how he'd always wanted Will, how he'd never ever stopped.

As insurmountable and simple as that.

Tyler's hand wrapped around the back of Will's neck and his mouth hovered a breath away, not

touching, teasing. His other hand dove in under his shirt and rubbed up and over his chest, leisurely

strokes of skin on skin, finding a nipple and brushing over it. Will's breath caught in his throat and he

pushed up, straining for Tyler's lips again. Fucking beautiful. Tyler couldn't stop himself grinding his hard-

on into Will's. Will groaned, his fingers flying to Tyler's jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping, hand squirming

inside, trying to stroke.

"Jesus," Tyler groaned.

"Fuck," Will agreed. "Lie down."

Tyler lay down on the ground, grimacing, and struggled out of his pants. "The fucking ground's muddy,"

he bitched, then, "--ah, fuck--" as Will's tongue flicked the head of his cock. Will's mouth sank over him,

sucking hard and swallowing as if desperate to get all of him in his mouth and suddenly Tyler was two

seconds from coming. He couldn't think, could barely breathe. "God oh God," he moaned, fighting not to

push into Will's mouth, trying not to fly apart before they'd even started.

Will pulled off him. "Don't hold back, c'mon, I want you to come, fucking come, I want to feel it," he

chanted and the sound of his voice, rough and wanting, was more than Tyler could take. His spine arched

up off the ground as Will sucked him back in, hard and deep. He yelled, digging heels into the earth,

jerking helplessly, pulsing down Will's throat.

Tyler lay there panting, eyes squeezed shut and trying to come back to earth. Eyes closed, he grabbed the

waistband of Will's jeans and jerked, the button sliding expertly through the hole. Will sprawled back

against the tree trunk again as Tyler sat up and yanked his zipper down. "Your turn. No, my turn. I've been

waiting forever to do this," Tyler said, his hand pushing down on Will's hard-on outside of the jeans. "Can't

believe I want anybody's dick so bad," he grumbled.

Will groaned. "Hurry the hell up then," he said, pulling his pants and underwear down. He barely got

them past his knees before Tyler was on him again, his hand wrapped around Will's cock and pulling in

quick, rough strokes. "Oh God, oh fuck," Will gasped and Tyler leaned up and kissed him, fucked Will's

tongue with his mouth, hard and wet and sweet.

"I'd sell my fucking soul to make you come right now," Tyler panted into his mouth. "I want to see it.

Wanna feel it. It's been too damned long. God, you feel good. Come for me." His voice was low in his

throat, lips brushing over Will's. "Please, Will."

Will's eyes opened wide in surprise. He bit his lip, grunted and came, jerking in Tyler's hand.

"You came just 'cause I told you told you to," Tyler murmured, kissing down Will's chest and stomach.

"That's so damned hot."

Will's hands were in his hair as Tyler moved over him. "And quick," Will panted. "Jesus." He slumped

back against the tree trunk, eyes half-closed, satisfied and lazy. "C'mere."

Tyler dragged his body over Will's and collapsed against him, pressing his face into Will's neck and

kissing some more. Will made an oof sound and tried to get comfortable pinned between Tyler and the tree.

It was impossible.

Tyler waited until he'd given up and was still, then said, "A couple of gay cops in California just got

married, did you hear?"

Will's breath stopped. He swallowed hard, choked a little and tried to clear his throat.

"Swear to God you get choked up easy," Tyler said. He tried not to grin.

Will pushed Tyler and struggled to sit up, coughing. "You did that on purpose. You suck, Ty, you really

suck."

Tyler leaned closer." "I do, I love it." He looked down into his eyes. "Love you so goddamned much."

Will bumped his forehead into Tyler's. "Tell me something I don't know," he said, grinning when Tyler

laughed.

About the Author

Theda Black lives in her native TN home with her husband and two daughters, writing in her spare (but

mostly not-so-spare) time.

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