Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 1

chest.
    Jace can hear the guys cheering, can hear the groans too as the ribbing gets under way. But Cam's hair is plastered to his head from the rain falling fast but soft everywhere. He sees it, beading on Cam's smooth skin, crystal like where it catches on the smaller hairs at Cam's nape. They're running along the dip of his spine. Cam has another mole right there, on the curve of his right shoulder. Jace wonders briefly if he has one too.
    God his throat is so fucking dry and Cam feels incredible– his skin all smooth and golden under the rain. And just this once. Just this once.
    "Jace?"
    He licks his lips. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest, and he thinks that Cam can probably feel it on his back.
    "Jace? Hey, did you hurt yourself or something?" Cam nudges him again, this time not so hard, trying to turn his head to check. "Ja—"
    Despite the cold rain, Cam's shoulder is warm under his lips. Jace shudders at the contact, leaves his mouth soft and slack, the rain slipping in to touch his tongue, Cam's skin taut over hard bone and muscle. He feels the slight rise of the mole against the corner of his mouth. His eyes close as he rubs his lips over it, wanting to memorize the velvety feel of it on his lips.
    Shit. It's Cam.
    Then the world spins for a bit and he throws his arms out, trying to catch his balance, but his head hits the ground and leaves him stunned for a second, blinking rain out of his eyes and staring up at the sky, the drops soft on his face. It hurts his eyes a little. His heart feels like it's trying to beat through his ribcage and then he focuses again, the sound of the rain rushing back.
    Cam's standing over him, front of his jeans completely soaked. His hands are fisted tight, knuckles so white. He's staring down at him, eyes wide and chest heaving, breaths quick and shallow, almost like a rabbit that's been cornered.
    Jace goes cold.
    He sits up fast, and feels the queasy weight of what he's just done settle in his stomach. His throat tightens and he swallows reflexively, eyes on the ground.
    Everything's quiet. He can't seem to focus on anything outside the small space between him and Cameron.
    Had the guys seen?
    He shoves his hair back from his face, hadn't realized the strands had escaped the hair tie to plaster themselves against his cheek with the help of the rain.
    He can't look up. In his mind's eye, he sees Cam's clenched fists.
    He waits for it. He thinks he might throw up afterward.
    "Jace, Cam! Come on! Why you guys still sitting there like a bunch of pussies?"
    Seth's voice crashes in.
    So they hadn't seen.
    There's no relief though, if anything, it's like something twists in his stomach, and he has to swallow again. Maybe he's going to throw up anyway.
    Pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, Jace pushes to his feet.
    Without looking back at Cam, he follows the trail of muddy foot prints and ignores the shake of his knees. As he walks, he waits for it, expects it.
    The punch never comes.
    ****
    His hand doesn't shake as he raises the glass to his mouth. He gulps it down.
    His skin is cold from the rain though he'd dried off some since getting back. He'd forgotten to look for his T-shirt.
    The kitchen is a mess of pizza boxes on the table, empty beer cans lined up on the window sill and glasses left all over the counter. At least nothing's broken, and it looks like an easy clean up.
    He finishes the water, stares at the cup still in his hand. The sound of the rain drowns out the tick, tick of the clock hanging above the door. He thinks that maybe he should've turned off the light. The sky is too dark and the light is a submerged thing, coming in through the blinds on the kitchen window. It leaves a diagonal pattern across his chest and the far away wall of the kitchen. He looks down at it and thinks that there's almost an underwater feel to it.
    The front door shuts, the sound of talking gone and sealed off now. The sound of car doors slamming closed and the engines starting up is muted through the closed front door and the rooms in between.
    Jace can't really hear Cam's footsteps, but he knows it when Cam enters the kitchen. He hears the uneven intake of breath from where Cam stays at the entrance.
    He can see his reflection on the glass, his face distorted by the roundness of it. There's a tiny bit of water still left at the bottom.
    Carefully, he sets it down in the sink.
    "Is everyone gone?" he asks. His voice, like his hand, comes out surprisingly steady, if a