Well, maybe not. He irritably pulled it over his head, fussing to get his arms through.
Around this time, Mikey crept back into his thoughts, and Zach felt just a little guilty. He swore to himself, as he did every time, that this had gone on long enough. That it was time to end it once and for all.
It sounded good, but then what? Admitting it was complicated enough, but could he… would he… just continue to play house afterwards? Maybe the best thing was to leave both, retreating into a devout break from all entanglements…
As he reverently chewed his way through his guilt the way he always did after sex, Zach was fully aware Gentry was now watching him pull up his jeans and yank down his GSA t-shirt, which he only wore since he believed in The Cause. Studying the way he aligned his watch with his GSA bracelet; thinking if he liked watching him put his clothes on more than he enjoyed taking them off.
“You mind?” Zach murmured, just rudely enough.
“There’s nothing there I haven’t seen before. Gentry shrugged, and with uncharacteristic catty-ness added, “You didn’t mind me looking a few minutes ago.”
Those amber eyes glanced away, unnaturally focused on some crack in the wall. He was in no rush, he never was. He’d leisurely pull his pants back up, and lounge about for a while, basking in the sunset without saying a word.
But Zach had to say something. He always did:
“That condoms remark was really crappy, you know. Even for you. And you don’t even use condoms, so that also makes it hypocritical. Maybe you should start following your own advice. They make nice ones now. Flavored, glow in the dark...” his voice trailed off.
“Either way.” He came back in that oh-so-certain way that Gentry really liked, the kind that was ripe with conviction and just a little outrage,
“It wasn’t funny. You could hurt people with by saying shit like that.”
“You know— the only good thing is that you don’t talk more in public. You can be a real dick sometimes,” Zach replied casually, without glancing up. He had barely finished the last syllable before Gentry pulled him back and wrestled him against the floor.
Zach shoved him back and muttered, “Get off. I need to find something.”
“Look for it later.”
Gentry put a finger to Zach’s lips before a single word was fired, then sat up to eye him wryly with his lean-muscled legs straddled over Zach’s stomach. He loosely cupped that all-too-boyish face, before reaching his hand up to slide a cold metal ruler off the table and into his palm.
“Is this the designated time to feel guilty?” Gentry asked him, moving the ruler under that proud chin and propping it up.
“Go on. Repent.”
“I’m not Catholic, and you’re not a priest.”
“I can be.”
Those blue eyes were really something. Sunken and heavy-lidded, surly and unforgiving. He’d seen them before, but couldn’t remember where. They reminded him of the Saints in the illustrated Bible he’d read many years ago, with their heavy brows and long-suffering gaze. He liked it best when Zach looked at him that way. It made him want to hold him down and fuck him up, remind him just how human he really was— show him he wasn’t any better than anyone else. Fuck him so hard he’d forget his God.
Zach was looking at him now, eyes fixed. Following his feelings the way the tides followed the moon, lapping away at him with that spark of sympathy which never evaporated, a little piece of something that he kept in his heart when the days were long and the nights were cold.
“Your eyes are too beautiful to be glaring at me all day.”
Gentry put down the ruler. He sighed as he eased down onto his elbows, so close he could feel him breathe in.
There were times. God, were there times…
“There’s nothing wrong with this. I already know why you come here,” he whispered into his ear, hot breath grazing against his jawline, “I think about it all day. I watch you when you aren’t looking, waiting until I can be alone with you. Any time spent with you… Zach, that’s what I come here for. You don’t have to— we don’t have to do anything. But close your eyes, and you won’t regret it.”
Zach gave him a strong shove back, and Gentry staggered back to his knees, open palms scraping against blue carpet.