Best Laid Plans (Garnet Run 2)

“Can we go to bed?” Rye asked, looking up at Charlie with big, liquid eyes.

“Tired?” Charlie said.

“Not anymore.”

They walked hand in hand to Charlie’s bedroom without discussion and when they got inside Rye wrapped his arms around Charlie’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Rye, who was often clumsy and awkward with tools or dishes, was grace personified when they kissed, when they touched, like it was his natural state and everything else was unfamiliar.

“Why does it turn you on?” Charlie asked. “When I...” He tugged on Rye’s hair and Rye fisted his shirt.

“I don’t know. Just does. Charlie.”

Rye pushed him down on the bed. He climbed astride Charlie’s hips, his eyes heavy lidded and his cheeks flushed.

“Charlie. I want you.”

He said it like it was an invocation.

“What do you want from me?”

Charlie meant it like I’ll gladly give you anything but Rye frowned and put a hand on his chest.

“Not from you. With you.”

Charlie’s heart pounded and he closed his eyes, but Rye already knew. Rye already knew he didn’t know what he was doing. Rye already knew he couldn’t expect him to take charge here, and it was okay.

Charlie opened his eyes.

“Tell me what you want?”

Rye licked his lips.

“I want... Would you want to maybe...be inside me?”

Desire rocked Charlie. He knew that wasn’t the language Rye would usually use. He knew it was for him. To make him comfortable. And it made him want Rye more.

“Okay.”

“If you don’t like it, we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Or if you don’t like it.”

Rye almost rolled his eyes and Charlie saw the moment he stopped himself because he realized Charlie was serious.

“Okay.”

Charlie’s thoughts were all over the place. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be helpless in front of you. This isn’t how I’m supposed to feel. His heart was pounding so fast it felt like a fluttering creature escaping through his ribs. Rye put his hand over it.

“You’re scared?”

Charlie nodded miserably.

Rye lay down on top of him.

“Of what?”

He hugged Rye to him tight.

“I guess because...”

He shook his head. He couldn’t physically get the words out. It had only happened to him once before: when he’d had to tell Jack their parents were dead.

Because if I’m bad at it you won’t stay with me. Because if I don’t like it you won’t stay with me. Then I’ll be alone again, but even more alone because now I know what it feels like to be with you.

“Charlie? You know that not liking sex is okay, don’t you?”

“I know that.”

But it’s not okay for me.

“And you know that penetrative sex is just one kind of sex, don’t you? Lots of people aren’t interested in it. And that’s okay too.”

Charlie nodded. He knew all this, intellectually. He had heard of the internet. But none of that knowledge made a bit of difference when the truth was that he was falling for a man who liked sex—and clearly liked penetrative sex—and wanted to have it with him and he just...didn’t know.

“Do you want to try? See what you think? Or no?”

Charlie’s head was spinning even though he was lying down. What he wanted was to already know these things about himself. To have spent years exploring and experimenting the way Rye had so that these were givens; no big deal.

Rye’s hand was still resting on his chest over his heart.

“Stay there, okay? Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Charlie closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to watch Rye leave.

Rye’s warmth disappeared and Charlie was shivering. He climbed under the covers and pulled his pillow over his head.

The bed dipped and he felt Rye’s hand on his back. He also felt the familiar feeling of Jane making biscuits. Rye had brought Jane to him. He opened his eyes.

Rye’s eyes were gentle. “Can I get in with you?”

Charlie nodded and Rye insinuated himself beneath the covers while taking pains not to dislodge Jane. He was holding a pad of paper and a pen that he put on the bedside table.

Charlie turned onto his back and Jane curled up on his chest.

“C’mere.”

Rye snaked an arm around Charlie’s stomach and arranged them in a cuddle. Marmot yipped from down the hall and Rye scratched the blanket in a sound that usually attracted her. Within seconds she popped up onto the bed and curled between Rye’s legs.

Jane’s rattling purrs and Marmot’s tiny ones slowly relaxed Charlie.

“What’s the paper for?”

“Can I sleep here with you tonight?” Rye asked. “Just sleep.”

“Yeah. Course.”

“Then we’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay?”

The morning. But... Everything was processing strangely slowly.

“So we’re not going to...”

Rye shook his head and made an abortive gesture that looked like he was trying to turn the light switch across the room off with magic.

Charlie moved to get up but Rye stopped him.

“I got it.”

“But I haven’t brushed my teeth.”