Will crosses his arms, pursing his lips, the same lips Owen now knows how they feel and taste. “I might be able to make it work, as long as you don’t expect a Springsteen kind of show.”
“I was thinking of something more intimate than a Springsteen concert.” Owen gathers the courage to ask, “Would you mind playing in your underwear? It will help with my condition.”
“Is that a different condition?”
“Yes. I have a few.”
Will looks at his guitar, and Owen worries he was too blunt. In Kansas City, hooking up with someone rarely involved much talking. It was rather sleazy and unfulfilling, and that was why Owen started doing sex while on drugs. That made the not-talking part less important.
Will says, “I wouldn’t want to disappoint my audience.”
Owen smiles in relief. “It’s already shaping up to be the best show ever, and mind you—I’ve seen Madonna live.”
“Was she also in her underwear?”
“Of course.” He takes a step forward. “May I help you prepare for the show?”
Will nods, his Adam’s apple moving. “Okay.”
With not quite steady hands, Owen unbuttons the highest button on Will’s shirt, then moves to the lower one. The light-brown hair on Will’s chest becomes visible, and Owen’s mouth waters. Another button and another one. Will’s stomach is flat and smooth, with clear traces of abs. The following button reveals his treasure trail, and the final button shows where that trail leads. Owen holds his breath as he removes Will’s shirt off his shoulders, revealing what he spent hours imagining. The drawings he did of the man feel unflattering now that he has the real version in front of him.
“Oh, Will.” He should play it cool and not make him uncomfortable, but he can’t control his mouth. “Youhave the most beautiful chest. Your nipples are bigger than I thought.”
Will laughs. “How much thought did you give my nipples?”
“Ask me no question, and I’ll tell you no lies.”
“I see.”
“May I touch?”
Something passes in Will’s eyes, almost like gratitude, though Owen can’t understand why such a question would cause that.
Will gives a single nod, and Owen places his hands on his chest, hoping his palms aren’t too cold. They must be, because Will’s nipples harden immediately. The hair on his chest is soft and so well-proportioned. Owen traces the curves at the side of Will’s chest, where the muscles meet his broad shoulders. He slides his hands down to hold each bicep, squeezing gently. He continues exploring until he reaches Will’s strong hands. Their fingers interlock, and Owen dares to picture the two of them holding hands while walking in town. It makes him nervous, but he still likes to imagine it’s possible.
“You have thick fingers,” Owen says. “My mom likes to say I have the lean fingers of a pianist or a thief.”
“Or a painter.”
“Yeah, that’s better than a thief. May I take your pants off?”
Another flash of gratitude in Will’s eyes. “I’d like that.”
Owen gets down on his knees. He unties Will’s laces and pulls off his shoes, then removes his dark socks. His hands are even less stable than before as they close around the single button of Will’s jeans. It opens easily, and then comes the zipper, sliding smoothly to reveal Will’s gray boxers. With no air in his lungs, Owen pulls the jeans down over Will’s strong legs.
With nothing left on him but gray boxers that are barely covering his erection, Owen looks up to meet Will’s gaze. “Hello.”
“Hey.”
“Thank you for inviting me over.”
“I wanted to invite you sooner.” He takes a breath. “I needed to solve something before I could.”
“Is it solved now?”
Will nods, but his eyes betray his doubt. “Yes.”
“Where will you play for me?”
