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Rye unfolded from the corner and came right next to Charlie. He took Charlie’s hand in both of his and kissed it. His face showed so much pity Charlie wanted to run away from it.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry you were all alone.”
Charlie choked up. It hadn’t happened in a long, long time.
Jane plastered herself to his chest, arms on his shoulder, and put her face right up to his face. She licked his cheek and he realized he was crying.
“Well, that’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Rye muttered.
Then, very gently, he displaced Jane and put himself in her place. He put his arms around Charlie’s neck and pulled him close, stroking his hair.
No one had done that since his mom when he was a little boy. His hair was white-blond then, and she called him her little dandelion. He hadn’t understood why, because dandelions were yellow. So she’d taken him by the hand and searched the grass until she found one gone to seed. It was fluffy white. She stroked his halo of blond hair and held up the dandelion. Then, together, they blew, and watched the seeds cartwheel through the air.
“Baby,” Rye murmured, and something pulsed through Charlie like lightning.
He folded Rye in his arms and squeezed him tight. They lay there for a while, Rye stroking his hair, him stroking Rye’s back.
Then Rye said, “I think you’re pretty amazing.”
Charlie couldn’t quite accept that.
“Why don’t you think I’m a freak? Why are you so okay with this?”
Rye wrinkled his brow.
“You’re not a freak. Well, I mean, you are, but not because you haven’t had sex or dated people. That’s ridiculous. Tons of people aren’t interested in sex or dating. What’s there not to be okay with?”
Charlie shook his head, feeling even worse now.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. But it seems like you think there’s something wrong with it?”
“Just for me,” Charlie grumbled, and Rye snorted.
“Can I ask you something?”
Charlie nodded.
“The other night. When we... Why didn’t you want to come? Whatever the reason was, I swear it’s fine and I won’t be upset or feel bad or any—”
“I get it, thanks.”
Charlie smiled into Rye’s hair. It was easier to talk like this, pressed together but not looking at each other.
“I was worried I might, um, do something weird.”
“Weird how.” Rye remained utterly relaxed on top of him.
“Don’t know. Just, I wanted to concentrate on you and not worry about myself.”
“Sounds like you do that a lot,” Rye murmured against his neck.
Charlie blinked.
“Did you think of me later?” Rye’s breath was hot against his ear and Charlie swallowed hard.
“Yeah.”
“When?”
Charlie’s heart beat faster and he knew Rye could feel it against his own chest. He couldn’t get any words out.
“Did you touch yourself thinking about me?” Rye purred.
Charlie slid his hand up Rye’s spine until his fingers rested at his nape, fingertips in his hair.
“Yeah.”
“What did you think about?”
Charlie felt Rye’s cock get hard against his hip.
“About, um. The way you looked when I pulled your hair.”
“Mmm.”
“And how you were so...free.”
“Charlie.” Rye stroked his cheek. “Can I touch you?”
“I—Yeah.”
“Only if you want. Only what you want. I swear. Do you want me to?”
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted it so much. He was scared of everything it could bring into his life—a flashlight beam exposing a hole that the darkness had concealed for years—but, goddamn, he wanted it anyway.
“Yeah, I want you to.”
And once he’d said it, like magic, it wasn’t quite so scary anymore.
Rye kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. Then he nuzzled into the crook of Charlie’s neck and just breathed there while he traced patterns over Charlie’s chest.
“Just relax, okay? We can stop anytime you want.”
Charlie nodded, but kept a tight hold on Rye.
Rye stroked down his ribs to the hem of his shirt, fingertips just resting on his skin.
“This okay?”
He nudged Charlie’s shirt. Charlie nodded and he slid his hand underneath. He ran light fingertips over Charlie’s stomach and Charlie gasped. Rye pressed a kiss to his neck. A finger dipped into his navel, then traced a path up to his nipple. His breath caught. Rye’s fingers left a trail of fire and Charlie squirmed beneath his touch.
“You’re so hot,” Rye murmured, pressing another kiss under his ear. “Okay?”
Charlie nodded.
Rye touched him like there was nothing he’d rather do in the entire world than touch him. By the time he slid down Charlie’s body a little and stroked Charlie’s thigh, Charlie was aching.
“Want me to take these off?” Rye asked.
Charlie gulped, but he didn’t feel scared; he felt...cared for.
“Okay.”
Then Rye’s face was in front of his, Rye’s eyes gentle.
“You sure?”
Charlie tried to smile but he felt very serious. He nodded.
Rye kissed him, slow and sweet, then unbuttoned Charlie’s jeans and pulled the zipper down over his erection. Charlie shimmied out of his pants. Rye kissed his collarbone, then settled against his side again. When he slid a hand to Charlie’s inner thigh, Charlie gasped.
