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“Because you use a different sign language there,” Bodhi said with a shrug.
The guy took a step back. “That’s not…we both speak English.”
Bodhi nodded, then tapped his throat with a V. “Voice. English. Sign,” he added both aloud and on his fingers, “different.”
The guy turned his back suddenly and before Bodhi could become offended, he spun back around and slammed his phone on the counter loud enough, it made Bodhi jump. “Bloody fucking hell, it’s different!” he shouted.
Bodhi backed a few steps away. He didn’t think the man was trying to be aggressive, but he felt panic start up in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His fingers were curled into fists, and he couldn’t open them.
Suddenly there was a warm arm around him, and he recognized Caleb’s touch. Wren appeared a second later and held a finger up at the guy before turning to face Bodhi blocking the stranger from view.
“You okay?”
Bodhi nodded, then licked his lips, then finally unclenched his hands and looked over at Caleb’s brother. “UK,” he signed.
Wren mouthed the letters, then his brows flew up. “He’s English.” He cut his gaze to Caleb. “BSL.”
Bodhi nodded, but before he could offer any more insight, Caleb was bustling him through the kitchen doors, past Jori who was working on bread dough, past Luke and Ananda who were just outside the open back door, and into the café office. The door shut and Bodhi instantly felt calmer now that there was a barrier between him and the rest of the world.
And then shame set in.
“I panicked.”
Caleb nodded, then eased Bodhi against the desk to sit on the corner, and he cupped his face. His eyes roamed over Bodhi’s features, and he must have found whatever he was looking for, because he leaned in and took Bodhi’s lips in a deep kiss.
It was exactly what Bodhi needed. It was strong, hard, and possessive. It allowed him to feel grounded in that moment, and when Caleb pulled away, he was breathing a little easier.
“Thank you.” His fingers tripped a little off his chin, and Caleb laughed, pulling them to his mouth and kissing them.
“Did he yell at you?”
Bodhi shook his head, then stopped and nodded. “Yes, but he was embarrassed, not angry. It just scared me. I don’t like being yelled at. My grandpa—”
Caleb glanced down for a second. “I know. Wren’s going to handle him. Do you want to cut out for the day?”
Bodhi glanced down at the little gold-framed clock Caleb kept on his desk and saw his shift was over in ten minutes. “I have class soon. Will you pick me up?”
“Always,” Caleb answered immediately. He glanced over his shoulder at the door before returning his attention to Bodhi. “Kiss?”
Bodhi couldn’t help a laugh. “Always,” he echoed.
Caleb surged in, holding Bodhi by the face as he took his mouth, powerful and possessive. Bodhi could feel the rumble of his groan against his lips, and he lost himself in the tight pressure of Caleb’s hold as he wrapped his arms tightly around Bodhi’s back and squeezed.
Pulling away, Bodhi broke the kiss with a series of small pecks, knowing if he didn’t now, he would skip class and just stay in the office all day, letting Caleb worship him. He took a few steadying breaths, then reached up and cupped Caleb’s cheek and stroked the soft skin under his eye with the pad of his thumb.
“Beautiful,” Bodhi told him. Caleb started to shake his head, but Bodhi tightened his grip, refusing to let Caleb brush him off. “You’re so beautiful. I still can’t believe you and I are here right now.”
“Me too,” Caleb said, shaking his hand between them. “But we are.”
“We are.”
* * *
The email Bodhi had gotten that morning from accessibility services had requested that he meet with his new interpreter by the Panda Express at the campus food court. He wasn’t sure if that was normal or not since he’d been deliberately not paying attention to what Ravi had done with his, so he showed up early and twisted his fingers together in quiet stims below the table.
He wondered if the interpreter would recognize him, so he put his hair up in a bun to make his hearing aids more obvious, then did his best not to give in to his urge to get up and start pacing. Five minutes past the hour, and he was starting to panic.
Ten past, and he was ready to leave.
