Page 51 of Refraction

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Calvin waswearing the best coat ever. He should have bought one of these puffy parka things years ago. It had this awesome hood with fake fur trim, and if he put it up, the wind didn’t touch him.

He didn’t need it up today, though. It was one of those wonderful winter afternoons where the sun was bright and warmed everything. It even tamed the biting wind that never seemed to quit, even in Midtown.

He was coming off two days of shooting and had gotten an obscene amount of sleep last night. He’d learned that as much as he hated sleeping alone these days, he really had to on either side of a block of work days or he was totally worthless company.

It worked—Tucker seemed to need longer sessions, and Calvin never felt like he was getting in the way when he was finally free.

He waited for Tucker in the skate rental line, figuring he’d get a jump on their date if he needed to. Tucker wasn’t always the best at being on time after a couple of days of work.

Strong, warm hands cupped his ass, the squeeze sweet, firm. “I like your coat, honey.”

Oh, right on time.

Jesus, he could feel every one of Tucker’s fingers through his leggings. He wiggled back, then turned and begged a kiss. “Hello, tiger, miss me?”

“Like a lost limb.” Tucker kissed him like they were alone, like they hadn’t seen each other in years.

That was everything he needed, right there. That and maybe a little hot cocoa. He let Tucker take as much as he wanted. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t care who was watching; he did. The more people who saw them the better. He didn’t get to show his cowboy off as much as he liked.

“Ooh, you did miss me.” He winked. “It’s a beautiful day, handsome. Thanks for coming out.” He reached up, wiped a smear of paint from beside Tucker’s nose. “Been working hard?”

Tucker nodded. “Marge sent a truck for the canvases and brought more.”

“Wow.” It boggled the mind. Seriously. Tucker was beyond prolific. Would it be rude to ask him what the hell he did with all of them? “Do you keep them all?” He traded his boots for skates and waited for Tucker to do the same, scouting out a place to sit and lace up.

“I keep some, sell some, re-gesso some and use them over. I have the wilder ones at home.”

“Seems like a lot of decision-making.” He was glad he didn’t need to do that. Michael usually sorted through his images for him. Occasionally he’d request one during a shoot if he thought it would be cool to show Timmy or put in his portfolio, but he didn’t have a big scrapbook or anything. In ten years he’d saved maybe fifty shots, if that many.

He sat on a bench and patted the empty spot next to him for Tucker to sit before bending over to lace up his skates. “I haven’t been skating since last winter, and that was the Rockefeller rink. I’ve never skated this rink before, so we’re both new here.”

“I’ve been a couple three times in Austin. It’s tougher than it seems it ought to be. Still, I had fun, and my ass can handle a few hard landings.”

“You take care of that ass, please.” Calvin laughed. This was going to be so much fun. “I gave myself a spectacular bruise on my hip last year trying not to barrel into a mom and her toddler. Fortunately the mark was pretty easily hidden for my shoots. Even with arnica, it stuck around for almost two weeks. Thank goodness for photo editing.” He stood up and tested his balance. It would come back to him after a turn around the rink. He’d practically been born with skates on his feet. “You’ll be fine. I got this. Just look up and keep moving.”

“Right. You don’t have to wait on me. I’m a little like a lumbering bear.” Tucker was grinning, though, eyes sparkling, face toward the sun.

The bear part he’d believe. “Baby, you’re going to be cruising in an hour.” But at some point, he knew he was going to have to break loose and get some speed going. He could wait until Tucker wanted a break. He offered his hand. “Come on. Show me what you got.”

“It ain’t much.” Still Tucker gave it the old college try, ankles shaking for the first round before he figured it out and began moving more smoothly.

He had to say, Tucker was neither graceful nor fast, but he was dogged and laughing, and even when he fell, he had a smile on his face.

Calvin swooped around in front of Tucker, skating backward to get a better look at that grin, warm as the sun. It was amazing how Tucker just threw himself at things, loved all the weird new experiences the city offered them. “You’re doing great, you know. Totally fearless. I’m impressed.”

He held a hand out for Tucker to take.

“Don’t let me drag you down with me, honey.”

“Ye of little faith.” He took Tucker’s hand and made sure he had those blue eyes on him. “You just skate.” He led Tucker a little farther from the wall and tugged gently, adding a tiny bit more speed. Slower wasn’t always easier, and it definitely wasn’t as much fun as a little wind in your hair.

Tucker followed him like he was born to it, trusting him wholeheartedly, eyes lit up like Christmas.

He wanted to tell Tucker how beautiful he looked right now, how right this moment felt, how much he admired that trust. But it was so much joy that all he could manage was laughter. He tugged again, finding a spot that felt smooth for Tucker and matched his stride.

“This is fun! I don’t remember it being like this before.” Tucker squeezed his hands, sharing their joy. “You can’t paint this, honey. You can’t make this still.”

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