Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

once, "If you're missing something important I'll understand if you can't come."
    "I'm not missing anything important," West assured him. "I forgot the roses again, though."
    Riley smiled at that— not one of his big grins this time, but something small and sweet and even touched. "Next time, maybe." He hugged West in his usual way, kissed his temple and went back to the orchestra.
    No, thought West, no one would blame him for being confused. Anybody else in his position would be the same.
    ****
    The frequent rains of Seattle were mostly gentle that spring, but sometimes a storm came in from the Pacific, bringing cold rain along with the thunder and lightning. West liked these storms— he liked to crack open his bedroom window to let in the sound and the scent, and slept soundly no matter how loud the thunder crashed.
    Riley didn't. He would curl himself up in the middle of his bed, cocooned in his blankets, sometimes with the light on. When they were kids West blamed it on Riley's not liking loud noises in general, but now that they were older he suspected it was something more.
    He woke up during one of these storms and went to the kitchen for some water. On his way back to his bedroom he noticed that the light was on again in Riley's room. Normally he left Riley alone on these nights since there was nothing he could do, but tonight he knocked softly on the door. "Riley? Are you okay?"
    "Come on in," said Riley, so West opened the door. Riley sat on his bed, arms wrapped around his knees, and though he smiled at West like usual it was strained and small. "What are you doing awake?"
    "Thirsty." He held up his glass, and then came to sit on the edge of Riley's bed. "Do you want to talk?"
    Riley stared out the window. "I hate the rain."
    West cocked his head. "You live in Seattle."
    "I know. It's the only thing I hate about this place." He looked at West. "Have I ever told you how my mom died?"
    "No," West said. He tucked his feet under Riley's blankets.
    "We ran out of beer," said Riley with that strained smile again. "My dad was fussing about it so my mom said, fine, she'd go get him some, and took the car to get it and never came home." West reached out to rub Riley's knee, and Riley said, "Stupid, isn't it? Stormy night, my mom was upset, one twisty road, and that was all it took."
    "Why didn't you tell me before?" asked West softly.
    "I hate it when people pity me. Poor, motherless boy... I hate that."
    West said, still soft, "I only ever wanted to help you."
    "I know that now," said Riley, and flinched when the thunder clapped loud enough to rattle the old windows in their panes. West moved closer so he could wrap an arm around Riley's shoulders and Riley pressed his face against West's neck.
    "Tell me more about her," said West. "Tell me about your mom."
    Riley began to speak, haltingly and softly, about her singing and dancing with him and playing her violin, teaching him to play piano when he was big enough to reach the keyboard and violin when he'd mastered reading music, how she had filled the house with music to drown out the yelling.
    By the time he fell silent, the storm had subdued somewhat. Riley breathed more easily, and West rubbed his back and watched the rain run down the windows.
    "West," Riley said, and West's hand paused. "Do you remember when we were kids, and we'd fall asleep in the same bed all the time?"
    "I remember."
    "I miss that."
    "Then I'll stay," West said and turned off the light. He got under the bedding with Riley, and stared at the ceiling while he listened to Riley breathe. He could feel the distance between them like a canyon.
    He closed his eyes when Riley laid his head on West's shoulder. Suddenly it was hard to breathe, or to restrain the flinch when Riley moved his hand to lay it on West's chest.
    "Westie?" Riley said and West could feel the soft exhale of his name before there were lips on his, soft as he remembered, so longed-for that West's fingers curled in Riley's dark hair before he could stop them.
    It took a moment for him to gather himself enough to push Riley away. "No," he said even though Riley looked dismayed and confused. "You don't— you can't— you're not allowed to do that, Riley!"
    "I'm what?"
    West got out of bed, needing the distance between them. "That time I visited you at school, remember? I kissed you and you stopped me and I've respected that! Even when you stopped talking to me I respected that!"
    "West," Riley said.
    "But you come here and you