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CHAPTER TWENTY
Trae had already booked his flight when we met, but he landed not too much before me, so we met at the airport in San Diego. I had been too embarrassed to tell him about my tag-a-longs, so I sprung them on him. "Sorry, Trae... Um, meet my roommate and his cousins." He looked shocked, but took it well.
"You're Kip's friend?" I saw the look on Ali's face and knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Yes, my name is Trae." He smiled broadly.
I grabbed his arm. "Excuse us. Ali, come here." I pulled him to where the others couldn't see or hear us.
"This is a new approach. So, he's playing innocent to fool me while he seduces you?" Ali started right away.
"He's not even gay, Ali! Please, I'm begging you, don't do that thing where you're a jerk to him and constantly try to pull me away!" He yawned loudly. "Don't ignore me!" He looked down at me with narrowed eyes. "What?" He bent and captured my lips so fast I didn't have time to resist. I knew I had to be as red as a tomato.
"Anyone could target you at any time. Got it?"
I turned my back on him so he couldn't try that again. "I really think you invent too many invisible enemies."
Karis came to find us. "Kip! Aren't we going to see this graphic novelist? Take us to him at once!" she commanded.
"I already told you, you can't see him without a ticket. Only Trae and I are going. You guy's coming was pointless!"
"What?!"
"Then there's no reason for us to be here, is there? Alistor, let's go sightseeing." Layton grabbed Ali's arm.
Karis wasn't ready to give up. "Can't you pull some strings for us?" she questioned Ali. "You're curious about this graphic novelist person Kip likes, too, aren't you?"
"True..."
"Absolutely not! You three hurry up and go sightsee, or whatever. Don't you dare pull anything weird. Or else..."
"Well?"
"I'll never talk to you again!"
"What, are you five?" He was completely unfazed by my threat.
"He does have the vocabulary of a five-year-old," Layton offered.
"Don't get cheeky with me," Karis put in.
These guys really hack me off.
"I'm really sorry, Trae," I told him again as we got out of our Uber. "I didn't think they'd actually come along."
"It's fine," he laughed. "I don't mind. I'm just glad you could come. I was nervous about traveling to a signing in San Diego by myself. It didn't seem right to invite any of my other friend's when they didn't have a ticket. Hey, is it okay if we stop to buy souvenirs on our way back?"
"Yeah. I gotta buy something for my brother's family. What do you figure would be a good souvenir for a baby?
"Beats me, man."
We arrived at Bluestocking Books and got into the already formed line with the line growing behind us. As we stood there looking around, we looked at one another. "Um, what...?"
"This is the autograph line, right?" Trae, like me, was second guessing that we were in the correct place.
"Why are all of Mr. June's fans girls?!" We were completely surrounded by young pretty girls. I had not expected this at all.
"His stuff isn't girly at all!"
A cute high school girl in front of us, eyed us and said to her friend, "Look, boys."
"That's a rarity," she answered.
We both immediately examined our shoes. "We can't give up," I encouraged him. "Nobody here loves him more than we do!"
"You're right!" he agreed. "We won't leave because of some girls."
A bookstore clerk announced, "The Kiefer June autograph session is about to begin."
"Oh crap, I'm getting nervous!"
"But you met him once before, right? He might remember you."
"No way."
"He's not married, right?" A girl behind us asked.
"He's bound to have a girlfriend, though," her friend answered.
"They might end up pretty disappointed," I whispered to Trae. "He barely looked like a human when I saw him. He's not exactly what you'd call a cool guy."
"Reality never lives up to the dream. But we're fans of the novels."
"Next, please." We were called forward.
That's right, we're fans of his graphic novels, not his face, so... Holy shit! He's...cool! He definitely cleaned up well. Obviously when he wasn't melting down over finishing his book, he was a completely different person. He looked like one of the models in a cologne ad. Charcoal black hair that was long on top and short on the sides and back that he wore messy, chocolate brown eyes, a straight nose, and a smooth pale complexion. I could feel Trae having the same reaction next to me.
"Hello," he greeted us, smiling with perfect straight, white teeth.
"P-pleased to be here," I somehow managed.
"Wait, Kip is that you?" Kim the girl that I worked with in the graphic novel department that day stood behind him.
"Oh, hi!"
"You know each other?" Mr. June asked.
"He's working part-time for us right now."
"You came all the way from San Francisco?"
"Yes! I entered the lottery for this signing thirty-six times!" I couldn't stop smiling.
"I entered thirty-five!" Trae chimed in.
"As passionate as ever, I see. Alright, give Mr. June the sheets you wrote your names on."
"Of course!" We placed our sheets on the table.
"Also, we baked Galileo Galactic character cookies for you!" Trae and I held up the bag together excitedly.
"I've never received homemade cookies from a boy before." He took them with a grin. I refused to be embarrassed. "Thank you very much. I'll eat them with pleasure."
Trae and I collapsed into chairs at the Starbucks down the street where we were meeting Ali and Frick and Frack. "Wow! He was awesome!" Trae exclaimed.
"A living legend!" I agreed. "Hey Trae, the next step up from heart-racing is heart- pounding, but what comes after that?"
"Heart-thundering. Duh!"
"Kip?" It was no other than the man himself. Mr. June!
Trae and I both instantly stood. "G-good afternoon!" There was a chance I yelled it at him.
"Is your signing over, sir?"
"Yep, it just ended. I'm sorry this is so sudden, but I'd like to ask you something. Kip Lexington, I met you at Penguin Books a few months ago, didn't I?"
"Oh...yes!"
"I thought so."
"Y-you remember me?" I might pass out.
"Of course. You got me back on my feet that day. How could I forget? Thank you very much." I was speechless. "If you're working at Penguin, maybe we can meet again."
"Sure! Mr. June I really love...," oh, how long has Ali been standing there? "...you!"
Ali had murder and death and apocalypse and plague and disaster in his eyes.
"I have our coffee. The car's waiting outside, so let's..." Kim came over. "Wait, you're Mr. Smoak! Mr. June, this is Alistor Smoak."
"Ah, the novelist?" Mr. June didn't quite smile, but had a kind face.
"Fancy meeting you here. Are you here on business?" she inquired.
"No, my little flatmate here said he didn't want to come to San Diego alone, so I'm his chaperone." He came and stood behind my chair.
"Kip, you live with Mr. Smoak?" She looked stunned.
"Oh, um, well..."
Moving to block me from view, he lied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. June. I'm an avid reader of your work."
"The pleasure's all mine. I've read all of your work." They shook hands. "I had the honor of receiving homemade cookies from Kip and his friend today."
"We really do need to get going." She pointed to the door.
"Thank you both for coming today. I'll see you around. And Mr. Smoak, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again, too."
"Yes," Ali smiled charmingly. Mr. June left and as soon as the door closed, Ali ordered, "So, tell me about these homemade cookies."
We were back home before lunch the next day. Layton and Karis were out doing some last-minute running around because they were both leaving tomorrow (thank god). I was lounging on the sofa staring at my autograph, "To Kip, Kiefer June." Ali was on the opposite sofa reading. Talking to myself, I said, "I can't believe he remembers me! Now I'm an even bigger fan." Ali slammed his coffee mug on the table. "What?" I looked up at him.
"You toss around the word 'love' too much." He crossed his arms.
"Excuse me? It's how I feel. I can't help it."
"Stay away from him from now on."
"Why should I?"
"A gut feeling."
Here we go again. Well, getting mad doesn't work, so I tried a new tactic. "Oh, I get it. You're jealous of him," I teased. I stood, about the take my book upstairs. "I can understand that. He was cool, wasn't he?" I sniggered.
Well that worked even less. My book was on the floor and I was pinned beneath him on the sofa. "Kip, when you love someone, I think it's only natural to worry about what they love. I have to be number one to you."
He let me sit up and I pulled my knees to my chest. "My 'love' is different with Mr. June than with you. God!"
"How so?"
He knew exactly how so, he just wanted me to say it. I swear he was so insecure sometimes. "It's a different type!" I was aggravated. "It's totally different. It's the same word, but I guess it's a different type than that...I guess..." I was talking in circles. Since I couldn't figure out how to say it, I got up and went into the kitchen and came back with a Tupperware of cookies. "Here!" I shoved them at him. "I did make some for you too, you know! With less sugar and some ginger, the way you like them. So, be grateful!"
He gazed at them surprised. "Thank you very much."
"Y-you don't have to eat them if you don't want to," I fussed petulantly.
"I'll eat them. Want some coffee?" He got up and went into the kitchen.
"I want tea." I acted like I was still mad, but Ali offering to make me a drink was his way of apologizing and it made me happy.
"But, Kip..."
"What now?"
"Don't you think that anyone would be uneasy?"
"About what?"
"If the person you love said he loved someone else, wouldn't you worry if he loved them more?"
I looked over and watched as he made tea. "You're overthinking it, Ali."
"Of course I'd think about this. After all, I love you. And I don't want to complain about things you love, you know."
"Yeah, right! That's all you do!"
"It's true. So just...tone it down a little. Or I get jealous."
"I noticed."
"Here. Tea."
Going into the kitchen, I passed by the tea. I pushed him against the fridge. I leaned into him and put my lips against the nape of his neck. "N-no matter how many other people I loved, I wouldn't do this with them." I untucked his shirt and ran my fingertips over his muscular abdomen. "You're different from other people. Don't make me have to say it all the time, you big jerk!" I pressed my mouth against his, putting my tongue in his mouth.
He had just grabbed my ass with both hands and pulled me into him, when my phone started ringing. I reluctantly pulled away. "That's my ringtone for work. I better get it." I went and picked up my phone off the table. "Hello...You need me to pick up Mr. June's manuscript? Where?...His home? Okay. Text me the address. I'll leave right now."
Ali was grumpy again when I left. But this was work, not a social call. Ringing Mr. June's doorbell at his apartment door, I felt nervous. I don't think I would ever get used to seeing my idol in person, even if it happened every day.
Hm, no answer. I rang the bell again. "Shut up already!" Mr. June roared through the door.
Damn! "E-excuse me, I'm from Penguin." The door opened to reveal Mr. June the zombie. He was scary like this. "U-um, I came to pick up your manuscript."
He looked at me through his hair. "It's you!" He stood up straight, ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it off his face, and smiled. Zombie be gone! "Why, Kip, thank you for coming." Damn he's cool. "Here's the manuscript." He handed me a hardback black case with a lock on it.
"Thanks. I'll take care of it for you."
"I ate your cookies; they were good. Thanks again."
He actually ate them! Trae was going to flip. "It was nothing, really. Ali, er, I mean Mr. Smoak sends his regards."
"That's right, you live together. Are you related?"
"No, but he and my brother are good friends."
"Oh, I see." He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Say, why don't you come visit me sometime? Bring that friend of yours. We'll have a drink and shoot the shit."
"Yeah? Of course. We'd love to. Thanks!" I may have skipped out of the building.
"Your vacation really flew by. I'll miss making cakes with you," I told Karis. We were all standing in the airport just before security where we'd have to part.
"I hate this! I order you to fly to Paris with me!" Karis pointed a commanding finger at me.
You never could tell if she was serious, so Ali jumped in. "Nope. Kip and I have plans tonight."
Layton rolled his eyes. "Well, take care Alistor. Thanks for letting me stay."
"Layton, what did he say to you?" Ali questioned, making me wonder what he meant.
But Layton knew exactly to what he was referring. "Uncle François? Nothing major, really."
"Layton." Ali's voice was threatening. He had waited until the last moment to grill him about his connection to François.
"It's true, he asked me to stay with you. He just wanted me to tell him what his son's life is like. And Kip's too. He said if Kip does anything to make you sad, he'll never forgive him. He's super worried since Kip's young and in school, and therefore probably clueless about what society's really like. He said there's still time to turn back. Better to treat your wounds while they're still minor. That's it."
"I'm not 'wounded'. And if I were, I could get over it. I can be strong because I'm with Kip," he stated matter-of-factly.
Layton shook his head. "Tell that to Uncle François. I'm done being a messenger. It was a giant, pointless pain in the ass. Kip," he looked over at me, "I'll send you a Facebook request. Let's stay in touch. Come on Karis, let's go. I can't believe we're going to be living in the same city. Don't think this means we're going to hang out all of the time."
"Like I'd want to do anything with you!"
Ali and I went out on the balcony and watched the planes take off. "They're gone," I said. Looking back at him sitting on a bench, I told him, "Hey, we passed by a bookstore in there. There was a sticker on your last book that said it was being made into a TV show? Why didn't you tell me? That's huge!"
"Yeah, a huge pain in the ass."
"You could've said no." My gaze returned to the planes.
"Well, it's part of the job." After a little while, he came over and put his hand on my head. "Pay no attention to him." I had no idea if he was talking about Layton or François. "Whatever anybody says, I'm not letting you go."
My hand gripped the railing tightly. "Look, I'm sure François only said that because he worries about you."
"What do I do with you? You're getting more and more mature. That's probably good, but it unsettles me."
"If I say things are fine, they're fine."
He stood behind me, putting a hand on either side of me on the railing. "I want to kiss you so badly right now."
I looked around to make certain we were alone, and then turned around and put my arms around his neck. We kissed long and slow, but made certain to keep our lower bodies apart, because we were in public after all, and everything about him drove me mad.
"Let's go. We have plans after all." He took my hand.
We went back to the apartment, and when we walked through the front door he held out his arms. "This is our plans! Peace and quiet."
I laughed. "It was a long three weeks," I heavily sighed. "It's filthy in here. I couldn't keep up cleaning up after three people, who don't help at all, I might add."
He said nothing about my not-so-subtle hint. "And I am so far behind on work. Too much noise and distraction around here." His eyes shifted up to his study.
"You want to go work, don't you?"
He grinned. "You want to clean, don't you?" I made an expression that said, "Well..." He gave me a peck on the lips. "Have fun, darling." He skipped upstairs.
He came down for a quick dinner that I threw together with minimal effort because I didn't want to dirty more dishes than I had to: chopped polish sausage, veggies, lemon slices, and garlic roasted in the oven on one pan. He went right back up after he ate, declaring, "I'm on a roll!"
Around ten o'clock he came back out. I was laying on the couch in the front room watching TV. He dropped down on the other end, his eyes glazed over with the haze he gets when tiredness was setting in. "What are we watching?"
"Top Chef, it's a cooking competition." Ali never watched television. Movies, yes. TV, no.
"Getting meal ideas?"
"Do I need them?" I mocked outrage.
"Of course, not darling."
He stared glassy eyed at the screen. I watched him. We had been having sex the last few weeks, but once Karis arrived we were quiet to protect her delicate sensibilities; nobody cared about Layton's decidedly un-delicate sensibilities. It was difficult to ravage anyone while being silent. And I wanted to ravage him.
I was on him. On top of him, in between his legs, kissing him. "Can we fuck? Please? Are you too tired?"
"I believe you have revived me." His hands were in my hair, bringing my mouth back to his. My hands undid his pants and then mine. I pulled my shirt off and threw it somewhere. Standing I stripped quickly, and then I roughly removed Ali's pants while he laughed wildly at my eagerness. Laying between his legs again, making certain our dicks were side by side, I unbuttoned his white shirt, but I didn't take it off because the way it framed his muscular chest was spectacular.
I kissed him, but was soon pulling away. "I don't think I can wait," I confessed.
"Then don't."
He didn't have to tell me twice. He helped me get in the right position so that I could sink down onto his cock. I went fast. And when it was all the way in, I started racing for the finish line, rutting up and down with everything I had. "I'm sorry," I panted. "I don't know why I'm in such a hurry."
"It's because you want me, couldn't wait to have me. I love it! Come on baby! Fuck me hard!"
"Oh god!" He put his hands on my hips and helped me rock harder against him. I was grunting and keenly vociferously because I finally could. I had been holding it in for too long. My hands were splayed on his chest, and my cock was bouncing up and down against his taunt stomach. Embarrassingly soon, I was coming without ever once touching my dick. It came on so quickly that I was spurting on Ali's stomach and chest without making sure it was okay. I'd never done that before. "Ali, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."
"Nothing to apologize for. Feel free to come on me anytime."
"Mmm hmm..." was the best that I could come up with because I was deep in the grip of an intense climax. I tried to keep moving, but I had slowed down to barely a pulse. I guess Ali must have become impatient, because suddenly I was on my back, my ankles on his shoulders without him ever coming out of me.
"Let's see if we can get you to come again." And then he was on his own race. "Touch yourself." I obeyed immediately. "I want you to beat your cock hard while my cock fucks you hard."
"Ungh!" His words had me groaning as a shiver sliced up my spine. "Yes! Please!" Now he was the one being noisy. He was grunting as his flesh hit mine. The sound of his skin slapping against mine echoed through the vast room. I did what he told me to do, the harder he pounded me, the harder I pumped my hand.
"You like that don't you?"
"Fuck yes!" I shouted. "I've been dreaming about this for three weeks!"
"Oh, so our quiet lovemaking wasn't enough for you? You need to fuck hard and fast?"
"Shut...up!" He laughed. I felt the pressure building again. I found it amazing what Ali could do to my body. But even more than me, I wanted him to enjoy it. "How are you...coming along?"
He laughed again. "Swimmingly, darling. I'm getting close, how about you?"
"Um, uh, y-yes! Yes!"
"Well, show me what you got." Less than a minute later I was wetting my hand and my stomach. Apparently watching me come sent Ali over the edge and he soon followed suit. He collapsed next to me, pulling me close. "I had no idea how bad I needed that. Kudos for the excellent initiative." I couldn't help but chuckle.
We laid on the sofa for a long time, watching TV and chatting like we hadn't been able to for a while, and I was incredibly grateful of the oversized couch. Our legs were tangled together and his hand was on my hip. At some point, I got up and got us a wash rag to clean us up with. As he often did, he was tracing my tattoos: the sterling rose on my shoulder, a wood palette with my favorite colors on my ribs, a circle that looked like it was cut out of a landscape with colorful trees, silver water, and a garden statue oil painting that I designed with the tattoo artist on my forearm, and small black and grey man holding a bundle of colorful planets like a bunch of balloons on my bicep.
"We should get you a tattoo for your birthday coming up."
I could feel his chuckle rumbling against my back. "I don't think so."
"Why not? Tattoos are sexy."
"On you maybe."
"Definitely on you."
"I can't think of a single thing I would want to get." He threaded his fingers through mine.
"Well maybe if you thought about it for longer than five seconds. You're a writer, you could get a fancy pen or a typewriter, a book, a whole stack of books."
"I know exactly what I want."
"What?"
"Your name, in script, above my hip bone."
"What?! Ali that's crazy! You cannot do that."
"Why not? It's perfect," he said sincerely.
"It's bad luck. Everybody knows that. You only get names of kids and dead people. What if five, ten years from now we're not...together?"
"That will never happen. It's decided. We'll go on my birthday," he stated matter-of- factly.
"No. It's not happening. I'm not worried about it, though because you'll have forgotten about it by morning."
"Nope. Branded in my brain."
I merely shook my head. He was nuts. It was so...permanent. And you could have ink lasered off, or covered up, but you always know it was there. But, worst of all, my first thought when he said it...was that I wanted him to do it. And that sacred me to death.
When had this happened? I had gotten used to his body temperature without even realizing. I found myself thinking that forever was a tangible option. Now I knew that those big, cold hands holding me are so very, very warm. "I love you." He kissed my shoulder. "I love you." He kissed my neck. "I love you." He kissed my ear.
"You don't have to keep saying it over and over." I felt myself blushing.
"The more I say it, the deeper it goes."
I twisted so that I was facing him. "I love you, too." We kissed. We kissed for so long I tasted like him. And it was all we did, it didn't lead to other things, we just kissed. I knew I'd remember this moment forever. And realizing that made me understand that Ali would be in my heart forever as well. I had never loved him more. And if that love kept growing and deepening as it had been, then I didn't see how I could ever live without him.