“I’m sorry,” Seb said on the street as he pressed closer, letting the world around them disappear for a few seconds. He reveled in Martin’s solid warmth, in the ragged way his breath washed over Seb’s skin.
“You came home,” Martin said.
“I’m sorry I left.” He shivered as a raindrop hit the back of his neck and slithered under his shirt. He wanted to be even nearer to Martin, feel the heat of their bodies together. They had been in bed, safe and possibly happy, when Seb’s world flew apart. He wanted to be like that again.
“Did you get my texts? Cassidy—We—There’s a lot of money. So much more than we expected. You could go anywhere, do what you want to start over and—”
Seb stopped him with a kiss as the rain picked up around them. It streamed down, soaking them, and Seb didn’t care.
“I didn’t come back for the money,” he said when they pulled apart.
“Penny. She’ll want to see you. We should—”
“Why do you always sell yourself short?”
“I don’t!” Martin laughed between kisses.
“You do. All the time. Did Cassidy have to tie you down before she made that video of you?”
“No!” Martin’s pink cheeks said he was lying.
“I came back for you. I need—I saw you—”
“You always see me.”
Seb warmed, despite the damp chill. He wanted to slip his hands under Martin’s coat, feel the heat of him there, the solid realness of him. They were across the street and two doors down from the remains of his apartment. He’d been prepared for it when the cab dropped him off. The damage was better than he remembered, although still hard to look at it. But then he’d seen Martin, in the window of the diner, lit from a lamp that hung above his head. He looked warm and safe and...
“I’m ready to come home,” Seb said, and he meant it. Martin tried to bring up the campaign again, and Seb shut it down with another kiss. He didn’t want there to be confusion. He wasn’t here for the money they’d raised, and while he was grateful to all the people who had participated, he was there for Martin.
Martin, who laughed softly against his lips. “Home. There’s a small problem there.”
“What’s that?”
Martin untangled himself again, turning so they could both face the old bookstore.
“Well, you don’t really have one. A home, I mean.”
Seb squeezed him gently. “This is true.”
“And...” Martin scratched at an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I’m going to have one for much longer, so—”
“What happened?”
An odd expression passed over Martin’s face before he shuddered. “Straight people sex. You don’t want to know.”
Soon, the rain came down so hard that no amount of fuzzy feelings could keep them outside. They returned to the diner, because Martin had left his things inside. Leaving again took longer than Seb wanted because Penny had been watching them the whole time. She nearly tackled Seb as he entered the diner. She served slices of pie and dragged over other patrons to celebrate Seb’s soggy return, but he was anxious to have Martin to himself.
For lack of any other option within a reasonable cab fare, they wound up at the nicer of the two motels near the beach. Its only real qualification to be nicer was being bought by a chain in the last few years and having a bigger sign. The room was clean though, and dry, and that was all they really needed.
Seb took Martin to the shower with him, arguing the hot water would do them both good. Martin’s hair had begun to dry on the ride over and was sticking up at odd angles, and Seb smoothed it down.
The tiny space of the shower, behind the yellowing curtain which wouldn’t quite hang flat against the side of the tub, was surreal. Seb nipped at Martin’s chin, trying to make sense of the time since they’d been in a very similar position in the guest bath at his parent’s house. Ten days? Was that all it had been?
Afterwards, warm and dry and sleepy, they lay, face to face, on one of the two double beds.
“Can we talk about the money now?” Martin said.
Seb pulled him close. “If you want.” There would be time, but it seemed to be weighing on Martin’s mind, so he let him speak.
“It’s a lot. I haven’t checked it this afternoon, but it’s got a few days to go, and even if we don’t get any more big art donations to spike the contributions, I bet it will be close to a hundred thousand dollars. You could do pretty well anything with that. Go anywhere you wanted.”
“I could.” Seb pressed a kiss to the top of Martin’s hair.
“What do you think you’ll do?” Martin ran a hand over Seb’s chest, hesitation in the touch. Seb would be making up for the space he’d created between them for a while.
“I have an idea.”
