Description
“Anything for you, Coach,” West teased, grunting as he struggled to push up and right himself. But the weight proved too much for his wiry legs to handle.
“Stop acting like that,” Stone huffed, brushing behind him as he fiddled with the amount of weight attached to the back of the bench. “What’s gotten into you lately?”
“This is how I am now,” West struggled to bluff. “Or haven’t you noticed?”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Stone teased back, grunting as he stood back up with his face mere inches from West’s. “Just… focus and let’s find a weight that works for you.”
West felt Stone slipping away, not responding to his simpering the way Brick might. He wanted desperately to forget the old and embrace the new, to scrub his mind clean of the man who’d been his first, and only, lover. But he’d only just left his bed the night before, and now here he was, struggling to reconcile the old with the new. Or the new old with the old old. Oh, so help him, West just didn’t know anymore—
“Are you even listening to me?”
West chuckled, shaking his head. God knows he hadn’t been. “No, sorry, I’m… I’m trying my best.”
Stone’s chiseled features softened somewhat, nodding. He reached out and squeezed his shoulder so tenderly West was inspired to do something he’d never done before — rest his cheek on top of the hand that sat there, warm and rugged and sporty.
“West…” Stone’s voice was a paternally patient sigh, as if he knew neither of them should be standing this close, this soon, this sweaty, this way, but didn’t want to hurt West’s feelings.
West was okay with that. His feelings had been hurt enough. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that now. He lifted his cheek gently off of Stone’s hand, thinking that would be it. That would be the end of his teasing and flirting and, well… touching.
But Stone wasn’t quite done with him yet. Instead of gently drifting away or picking up his weightlifting lesson, Stone gripped West’s chin in his hand, turning his face upward until their eyes met once more in the harsh light of the condo gym. “Listen, I know you’re hurting, okay? I know you’re wounded—”
“I’m not wounded,” West spat, struggling to shake his head but Stone held a surprisingly firm grip, keeping his chin in place and their gaze locked. “I’m just…”
“Hurt,” Stone finished for him, nodding as he held West’s head in place. If he’d leaned down to kiss him just then, West might have exploded into a million tiny pieces. That, or melted into a puddle of goo at his feet. Instead Stone merely smiled, and West’s heart grew a few sizes in that single moment. “You can’t hide it from me, West. I see it in your eyes. I remember those eyes, so young and innocent before… whoever got a hold of you and turned them dark and cynical and… hurt. But I’m here now. Your old friend, remember? You’re safe now and, if you’ll just trust me, I’ll help you through this. All of this. As long as it takes, okay?”
West couldn’t remember when he actually started crying. When the tears started gently rolling down his flushed, feverish face. He only realized it when Stone reached down to kiss them dry, one at a time…
