Page 78 of Rhymes with Metaphor
Chapter 19: Until I’m Ready
The next morning, Regopened his eyes to see Joel standing beside the bed, utterly naked, looking like a butterfly newly emerged from its cocoon.
“Thanks,” said Joel.“For yesterday.”
“It was my pleasure, cariad.”Reg pushed himself onto his elbows.He looked at Joel appreciatively.“Well, well...”
Joel got into bed with Reg and lay on his back.“My lips are sore.”
“Mine too.”Reg smiled and kissed him softly.“Did that hurt?”
“I can’t tell.Do it again.”
Reg did and made it last longer.
He pulled back the covers and surveyed Joel’s body.All of him.Reg touched him, running his hand lightly over Joel’s chest, over the dark hair over his pectorals, down his smooth, bare abdomen, over the blades of his hipbones he had previously only felt through Joel’s clothes.Joel rose up to meet him, and Reg enclosed him in his hand.
Reg worked him firmly and purposefully.“Remember your elements.”
Afterwards, in the bathroom, Reg pulled Joel’s clothes out of the tub.
“I’ll clean them,” said Joel.“It’s my mess.”
“But I made you make it, cariad.Which element did you get to?”
“Hassium.Element 108.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”said Joel.
“Pleasure is more intense when you make yourself wait.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”said Joel.
And because Reg couldn’t lie to Joel, he just laughed.
“Can I see you naked?”said Joel.
Reg sighed elaborately and started pulling off his undershirt, but then Joel’s hands were over his, helping him shuck off his clothes, and then Joel was pressed against him, breathing Reg in like he was pure oxygen.
If it was clear Joel was infatuated, well, it went a little both ways.As long as Reg didn’t get too attached, there was no real harm.
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After breakfast, whichthey ate in bed, they relaxed in the bedroom, curtains and windows wide open to the breeze.The air was hatched with rain, the clouds a dull grey.Reg lay in bed, watching Joel explore the room, examining the objects on the mantelpiece and bureau, asking Reg about each one—the miniature toads his grandfather had carved for his grandmother, the glass seagull Reg had bought at a curio shop near Crosskeys, and his mother’s aquamarine broach.Joel found the brass plaque with the fox engraving.
“What’s this?An award for something?”
“A thank you,” said Reg.“From the local wildlife trust.When I was ten, I volunteered at their centre.”
“Why did you stop?”said Joel.
Which question hit close to home.Sometimes, Joel could be too canny for comfort.
“You know how it is when you’re a child.”
