Page 83 of Torch Songs

Mac and Lenny, Johnny Law, McMoron Mc Mouser,

The two damned cats have got us on the run again.

Tad laughed long and hard when he was done with that one, and so did April, who had crept back in when Guthrie started to play again. The apartment had grown really warm by then, so Tad insisted they leave for a swim before ordering takeout, and Guthrie sent the songs.

Tad’s heart was so full—of admiration, of delight, of simple love—that he couldn’t imagine not touching Guthrie when the lights went down.

It felt like that’s what he was born for.

GUTHRIE GOTa text while they were getting takeout. He checked his phone, probably hoping for notice from Berta or the band. He talked a good game about knowing the band was breaking up, but he’d been so protective over those music students—Tad knew he had to miss them.

But it wasn’t Berta or Kelly or Kelly’s sister. Tad didn’t have to look at the phone to see that. All he had to see was the set to Guthrie’s jaw, the way his back stiffened, or hear the sound of his breathing, like he was working very, very hard not to let it get too fast or too angry.

“Who was that?” Tad asked softly, and Guthrie shook his head.

“Not important,” he murmured back, and then it was time to get their order.

Back at the apartment, they watched a movie—something with lots of explosions, because April liked that kind of thing. Tad would remember that night: April’s complete happiness as she sat in the recliner and did her yarn thing, and Guthrie, his head on a pillow in Tad’s lap, because Tad could not stop fingering the coarse strands of his hair. Guthrie took care of his ponytail, used conditioner and oil on it so it didn’t get dry, kept it trimmed. He was even just a bit vain about it. Tad had heard him ask the haircutting place for a little bit of layering on the bottomso it would flip. “Otherwise,” he’d say, “it looks like I don’t give a shit, but if it’s got a little bit of shape, that makes it achoice.”

Tad liked his choice. He’d never known he could be a sucker for a guy with longer hair until he’d spent hours justfondlingit, while Guthrie trusted him to only use touch for good.

That’s all Tad wanted to do, and apparently, that’s all Lenny the cat wanted to do too, because the marmalade tom parked himself across Guthrie’s hip and purred, while April sacrificed some yarn scraps to keep Mac the Knife from destroying everything she was doing.

It was such a good evening—such aperfectevening. Tad should have known.

But he was aware of nothing but Guthrie’s body near his and how they were both nearly healed, nearly whole.

He was aware that Guthrie loved him, and that was a thing heknewin his bones now. Guthrie had written him a song, and said the words out loud in front of April, even, and then he’d said them intentionally without music, and held Tad ashe’dfallen apart.

Every touch fired between them, and the ache in Tad’s groin wasdelicious. He wanted to rush Guthrie to the bedroom, to take himright then, but instead he savored, enjoyed the rough satin of Guthrie’s hair, April’s grumbling at the kitten she adored, and Guthrie’s hand on the inside of Tad’s knee, burning against his bare skin since Tad was wearing sleep shorts, promising things Tad intended for him to keep.

The movie ended and everybody stood and stretched. Cats were given one last feeding, doors and windows were locked, lights were turned out, and they made their way to the bedroom, pausing for a moment to see where Lenny would sleep.

The cat hadn’t moved from his droop on the couch, so Tad locked the door while Guthrie went to brush his teeth and relieve himself. When Tad got back from doing the same, Guthrie wastexting furiously on his phone, his brows drawn together as he apparently told somebody to go to hell.

“What’s up?” Tad asked, concerned.

Guthrie swallowed and shook his head, hitting Send on what seemed to be a blistering message. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, and his smile, which started out a little forced, melted as he took in Tad, very deliberately taking his sleep shorts and briefs off and leaving them on his dresser for later use. “I am apparently overdressed.”

Tad had to laugh as Guthrie, staying under the covers, started doing the undressing shimmy as he took off his own shorts and briefs on the bottom.

“The T-shirt too,” Tad murmured, sliding into bed and turning off the light.

“You know, most guys don’t care about the—”

Tad shut that up with a kiss. He didn’t care about “most guys” or other men. All he cared about was touchinghisman. Guthrie must have wanted it too, because he didn’t argue or push back.

Instead, he lifted himself up and pulled Tad down after him, losing them both fully in the kiss until Tad was gasping for air.

“Aren’t you bossy,” he gasped, aroused already while Guthrie wrapped his legs around Tad’s hips.

“I’mhungry,” Guthrie complained, and Tad knew he couldn’t be talking about food because the man hardly ate.

Tad kissed his neck, his shoulder, then nibbled on his ear. “I’m hungry too,” he purred. “When are you going to top?”

He actually heard Guthrie swallow, and heknewhe felt Guthrie’s erection soften.

“Never mind,” he breathed, taking Guthrie’s mouth again. “Not tonight. Tonight it’s just us, and none of our demons, okay?”

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