Through the Window by Hollis Shiloh

Author:Hollis Shiloh [Shiloh, Hollis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spare Words Press
Published: 2014-01-29T06:00:00+00:00

“So we never talk about family. Do you have any?” Alphonse looked at Luke, who was settling down to sleep, head pillowed on his arm.

He opened his eyes, skeptical and as close to scowling as a man who felt great after sex could be. “Really? Now you want to talk about that now?”

“Well, I just wondered.” He reached up and brushed distractedly at the sweat-damp curls falling across Luke’s forehead.

Luke smiled a little at the touch and reached up to close his hand around Alphonse’s wrist, squeezing lightly, pressing his thumb against the pulse.

Alphonse withdrew. “You need a haircut.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rolled his eyes and sank back, smile gone. His gaze met Alphonse’s, direct and frank. “Why do you give a shit about my family? You’ve never asked before.”

“Just wondered if anybody else comes to watch your fights.”

“Sometimes. Mostly not.” He rolled onto his side, his back to Alphonse but still pillowing his head on Alphonse’s arm. “I was orphaned at ten. Brought up after that by my aunt and uncle.” He stifled a huge yawn.

“Okay.” Alphonse ran a hand down Luke’s backbone the way that usually made him shiver. It didn’t today. He was all shivered out.

His match was tomorrow; he’d snuck away for a couple of hours. He was all healed up from his bruises and wanted to enjoy some sex and sleep. Alphonse supposed he could’ve picked a better time to talk.

He relaxed and stared at Luke’s back, putting a hand to rest on his side. It was easier these days, the comforting little touches. Nice even. The whole ‘love’ thing had greatly unnerved him, but this was pleasant: sharing sex, sharing a bed, even sharing words.

“They had seven kids of their own, so there wasn’t much room for me,” said Luke quietly, apparently not asleep after all. He shifted a little, getting comfortable. “Pull that blanket over me?”

Alphonse reached down, tugged the blanket up over them both, and reached around and tucked it around Luke’s chest.

“Thanks.” He settled back with a sigh. “Always had to share a bed, and there was barely enough to eat. I sold papers, shined shoes, nicked apples—the usual. I didn’t starve. I was on the streets a lot, learned to use my fists early. Dropped out of school soon as the factory would take me. Then I learned I had a talent for boxing. Been at it ever since. It’s better than factory work, let me tell you.”

“It’s not your hobby, it’s your job,” said Alphonse thoughtfully. “When Ferr boxed, he did it largely for fun. I guess you have had to approach it differently.” He ran a hand down Luke’s chest, enjoying the muscular feel of it, and how loose and comfortable Luke felt. Sex was nice. He’d missed sex, and this, and Luke most of all.

“Yeah, well, we’re not all born rich and handsome.” He yawned again. “That feels nice. Thanks.”

Alphonse kissed the back of Luke’s head roughly; the kiss made a little smack sound and tilted his head forward momentarily.

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