Val closed the book when he’d finished reading the last lines, his throat dry and his voice a little scratchy. He normally didn’t speak so much over the course of days, let alone hours but it had been worth it. Trist not only had relaxed, he’d been drawn into the story and ended up leaning most of his weight against Val.

They sat in silence as Val tried to twist and see if the face buried against him was awake or not and found the angle too sharp to give him a clear answer. He shifted his weight and freed the arm Trist had curled against, only instead of pulling away, he found himself stroking a hand across the buried head. The hair felt fine and silky even being so tightly pulled back, the braid was a tight rope that Val struggled with the urge to unravel.

“You awake?”

Trist sighed and took advantage of the opening to wiggle himself under Val’s arm. He curled up there, head pillowed against the strong chest, ear pressed to flesh to listen to steady breath and heartbeat. “Kelly is a fucking twat.”

The stroking hand faltered at the vulgarity but Val shook his head. “She’s really a good person.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s still not an utter twat.” He sighed and would have crawled into Val’s lap if he thought he could get away with it. “You’re amazing. When I convince you to fall madly in love with me, I’m going to beg you to read to me like this all the time.”

Val’s hand stopped. “What?”

Trist worked his way around until he was sitting in the opposite direction and able to look into Val’s uncertain face. “Not a seeing, just a challenge, don’t look so panicked. She was never happy with who you are, always wanted you to be different. I really like the man I see, not the man I think you should be.”

“Really, Trist, I’m flattered but, I’m not…” Val’s protests were shut off because Trist struck.

He was already well within the quiet man’s personal space, within the circle of his arms and had full access to the core as it were so it was a very simple matter to surge forward. Before Val even had time to register that he was moving, Trist had both of his hands wrapped around the startled face and his lips pressed to the protesting pair across from him. Val pulled back instinctually but Trist followed and allowed him no escape.

If Val really wasn’t gay and was happy dating his ice princess bitchy women, Trist would shortly have a black eye. The shock of the moment was wearing off, the mouth, caught in a kiss in mid-protest, trembled below his own. Trist tickled the line of uncertain lips with the tip of his tongue and braced for impact.

Val didn’t hit him, instead he tried to force Trist back by attempting to rise from the sofa. That was easily solved, Trist straddled the body in front of him and let his weight settle down onto Val, almost, but not quiet in his lap. He flicked his tongue again in tease or challenge, felt the way Val’s entire body tensed and for a horrible moment thought he was going to get thrown across the room.

Val didn’t do that either. His arms moved to pry the slender body from his own, but as soon as his hands encircled the too skinny waist, all of his will melted. The tension poured from his body and dribbled away forgotten, everything suddenly felt limp and weak. He surrendered. He moaned. He parted his lips and let Trist really kiss him.

Trist sighed and struggled for dominance but he knew Val’s resistance was just another barrier. Val wanted to give in, but like everything, he had to be convinced or coerced before he’d let himself enjoy it. Trist used his grip on the sides of Val’s face to tilt the man’s head back, raised himself a little up on his knees and used the sheer physical presence of hovering over him to force Val to surrender and let go. But when he shuddered a little, a tiny shiver that Trist found his own body echoing, and stopped trying for control, the kiss became the sweetest one Trist had ever felt.

He teased, he tormented, he swallowed the small, whimpering sounds that Val was making. Trist wanted to press down into the warm body, arch his hips down into Val’s and take them both from half hard to achingly hard. He wanted to rub their bodies together until they both found release, or suckle on the pillar of Val’s neck, finding all the right places, until he was begged to suck on something much more satisfying. However, Trist had promised to behave, so he left it with a single, breath taking, kiss.

As he backed away, the hands around his waist clenched tightly to him and he wasn’t sure if they were gripping in a final protest or a final plea for more. Trist nibbled on Val’s lower lip before letting it go. “Gay.” He announced into hazy, lust clouded, soft brown eyes.

Val blinked and tried to re-boot his brain. “What?”

“I was finishing your sentence.” Trist grinned and leaned back, sitting on Val’s knees. “You said, ‘I’m not…’ and I finished it for you, gay.”

“Oh.” He was breathing too hard, he was too hard. He let his hands slid from Trist’s waist but that just put them on his thighs and that wasn’t any better. He pulled them from the slender body and let his arms drop beside him onto the sofa.

“Unless,” Trist began with a teasing, sexy, smile. “You were going to say ‘I’m not straight’ or ‘I’m not interested in stupid twats when I’ve sexy, slightly disturbed psychics in my life’?” He leaned forward again, forcing Val back into the sofa and to tilt his head up to look him in the eye. “And, buddy boy, if it was that last one, the insane seer you’re speaking of had damned well better be me, cause I can get awfully jealous.”

The tormenting lips returned again, but this time it was a quick, passing kiss that left Val’s head supported only by the back of the sofa and his eyes shut. “Trist, I…”
Trist stretched and untangled himself from Val. “I’m starving! Let’s go eat dinner? That muffin was good but having a bad vision like that always makes me so hungry!”

Val watched the lithe form slide off his legs and skip around stacks of books with more grace then he’d seen from the other man yet. “Trist?” He managed to whisper out, confused and hard and uncertain.

“Oh, I haven’t had tacos in so long! Do you like hot sauce, if it doesn’t make my eyes water it’s not worth eating.” He forced himself to smile lightly, and forced himself to not return to the sofa to continue what he’d started. “Come on, Val! I’m wasting away here!”

Frowning now, and still hard, Val forced himself to follow. He was good at pretending everything was okay, he was just used to it being not okay in an unpleasant way. They locked up his apartment and rode up to make dinner in Trist’s and the entire trip up left Val confused enough that he was able to regain control of his body.

Val tossed dinner together while trying to analyze what had happened on the sofa but it wasn’t easy. Trist kept bumping into him, sliding an arm against his shoulder, letting a leg brush against his own and it was slowly driving him crazy. It’d been years since he felt so out of control about sex, so consumed with the idea of physical contact. He just didn’t think of himself as a sexual creature. In fact, it had been so long he had to think about when was the last time he’d been so easily turned on.

His mind stopped. It had been Matt. He hadn’t been so easily stirred up since college and it had been Matt not his girlfriend that had always done it to him. Porn did nothing for him, in print or on videos, except, sometimes, it made him laugh. That didn’t seem odd, he’d known other straight men that didn’t find porn or strip clubs sexy. Not being turned on by slutty pictures or women that only wanted his money didn’t make him gay. It’s not like he got hard thinking about men. Trist brushed against him again and it sent tingles of pleasure across his body, made him jump a little, startled, and he ended up burning his finger against the side of the skillet.

“Ouch!” He pulled his hand back and sucked the burn into his mouth. From the corner of his eye he saw Trist grinning at him. Val pulled the burnt side of his finger out of his mouth.

“Careful.” Trist warned, brushed his hip against Val’s side as he slid past him to get plates out. He nearly broke down and laughed at how Val jerked away from the contact. It would so easy to push again, trap Val against the counter top, kiss him silly, but this was a game of slow advancement and careful holding of ground. If he went too fast, he’d spook Val off, and he didn’t need to be a psychic to know Val was already on an uneasy, low simmer.

He glanced over a shoulder to see Val stirring a covered pot, a wonderful aroma drifted over and made his stomach growl. “God, what are you cooking? I thought this was taco night?”

“Dirty rice, to go with, is that okay?”

“You made dirty rice? From scratch?” Trist tried to nose his way in to smell but Val dropped the lid back onto the pot.

“It’s not difficult, peppers, onions, rice, parsley, spices and such. You two really don’t cook, do you?”

“Pretty obvious isn’t it? You apparently do. Who taught you?” There was a flash as soon as he’d asked of a soft, round, older woman with white hair and a deep laugh but it faded as soon as he saw it. Trist shook his head and stayed out of Val’s way while he plated up dinner.

“What? You can’t just pluck it out of the air?” Val knew he was mocking but he couldn’t keep his words gentle when he was so unbalanced.

“I’m fucking trying to not be a total pain in your ass.” He snapped. “It’s not easy, I’ll go looking if you’d rather? It was just a simple fucking question!” The anger was swift and sharp and carried him away. He wanted to scream in rage, break something or someone and Trist knew it was totally from Val. He struggled with it, tried to force it out but it was a loosing battle.

Val turned and slid a plate of steaming hot food next to where Trist was visibly shaking in anger. His anger, if Gavan was right, and it seemed whenever Trist tried to ask about him, all the other man got back was rage. Val sighed and reached out, he let his fingers slid along Trist’s neck the way Gavan had the other night, let his hand rest along the tense column.

“Her name was Anna, she was the cook at my uncle’s house in England. Every summer we’d go over and he’d do his research and ignore Violet and I. The only one to care that we were there was Anna.” He shrugged. “I hung out a lot in the kitchen and I paid attention.”

Trist shuddered under the light touch but it wasn’t sexual. All his playing games of earlier disappeared, all the building tension and desire to kiss Val again was gone in the face of the anger the seemingly calm man carried. There was no way Trist could shunt it off so easily, pure, raw emotion was the hardest thing for him to process. Gavan had to turn him off or he had to let it run it’s course, those were the only two options. Only, as Val slid a hand along his neck and casually explained, the rage faded. It didn’t turn off like with Gavan but it dimmed down, eased back and let him regain control of himself.

He nodded, swallowed hard and missed the hand that disappeared from his neck. “Thanks.” But Trist couldn’t swear if he was thanking Val for answering or for helping him keep control. He wasn’t even sure if Val had any idea of what he’d just done.

“Welcome.” He smiled softly. “Now, eat, while it’s hot.”

Trist barely had himself onto a stool before he was shoving food into his mouth. His eyes half closed in pleasure as the spicy, warm food filled his stomach. Val just sat a moment and watched before he shook his head.

“Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick.”

Trist licked sauce from his fingers. “You have no idea.” He moaned at the sharp taste. “I’m in a food is my friend cycle, I’m going to enjoy it.” A stray piece of shredded cheese was popped into his mouth. “So when I hit the cycle again where the thought of food makes me puke, I’ll at least have enjoyed it now. Right now, everything tastes so good.” He made no apologies, it was a small enough pleasure. “Especially how good this rice is!” He pointed at the half finished pile with a fork.

Val shook his head and almost laughed at how happy such a simple thing made Trist. “There’s more on the stove if you want it.”

They ate dinner and Val watched the skinny man put away twice what he’d expected and in the same amount of time Val took to eat at a more normal pace. He’d thought about going back to his apartment after dinner but Trist pulled him to their sofa and turned on the television. It was pretty clear the other man wasn’t eager to be alone and since Val had no burning desire to stare at his books all sitting in lonely stacks with no heart in him to finish the project tonight.

This time, Trist made no pretense about staying on his side of the sofa. As soon as Val was settled down, Trist flopped down beside him. He wormed and wiggled and laid down. His body curled up on the remaining two thirds of the sofa and before Val could protest, he plopped his head onto the other man’s legs. Trist smiled as he felt the men tense under the contact but he squirmed a little, sighed and stayed put.

Val held very still but his mind blanked out. He waited for Trist to push the contact, started thinking of escape plans, but all the other man did was sigh and relax. Which was a far cry from what Val was able to do, he sat, tense and ready to bolt for a good half hour.

Trist sighed again. “Fat and happy.” He pulled his knees up closer to his chest and laughed a little at the silly movie that flickered across the tv. He was making a huge effort to block everything out except the show, no voices, no visions, no thoughts about how the back of his head was so close to rubbing against Val’s groin, nothing but the comedy. It was working, bit by bit he felt Val’s thighs start to relax under him.

Finally, Val sighed. “If you’re going to stay like that, I need to move.” He wanted to push Trist away but it felt so good to have his weight close by. It felt comfortable, made him forget Kelly and the wedding and Violet’s anniversary and his own birthday.

“Awww, fat, happy, comfortable, don’t move.” Trist protested but Val tugged on his braid until he sat up a little.

Only, Val didn’t push him away. He just curled his own legs up on the sofa, his body tucked into the corner of seat and side, legs curling near Trist’s chest. “You’re skinny, you’ll fit.” Val patted the space behind his legs.

There was no asking him twice, Trist slithered between the back of the sofa and Val’s curled legs. He fit perfectly. When he lowered himself back down, his head pillowed on the outer edge of one Val’s thighs, it was the most comfortable position he’d ever watched television in.

He promised Gavan he’d behave, he’d promised. “Thanks Val, this is nice.” He sighed and tried to relax.

“Welcome.” It was nice, as he relaxed into the feel of another person touching him, it felt really nice. So nice, that Val didn’t even notice when he started stroking a hand in soft caresses over Trist’s head.