Matt woke up twice in the night — once when Toph kicked him in the leg and again when an elbow rammed into his ribs.
"The hell?" he muttered, rolling over enough to corral Toph's limbs back onto his side of the mattress. Toph seemed to settle, though Matt thought briefly about getting him some elbow pads.
A few hours later, Matt woke again to a solid line of heat all down his right side where Toph had decided to make him a human body pillow. From the damp spot near his shoulder there might have been drool involved, too. Matt rested his cheek on Toph's bedhead and relaxed. There were worse places to be.
They could do this now. This was allowed. He could wake up next to Toph on the weekends — their respective class schedules would determine weeknights — and they could grumble about who would get coffee or feed the cats or a...variety of different things.
Which, okay, a certain part of his anatomy was definitely on board with that plan.
He stretched the leg Toph wasn't lying on.
Right. Well. Reciting the periodic table did wonders for making his libido behave, and so did counting ceiling tiles, if there were any ceiling tiles to be counted. There was only expensive wood — oak, maybe, who knew — above him, plain and ordinary.
Cold. Empty.
Houses were supposed to be lived in enough to turn into homes and this one was not by any stretch of the imagination. The only rooms that looked like they hadn't been staged by a realtor were Toph's bedroom and what would have been Edward's study. The billiards room was halfway there, mostly due to the amount of time Colby had spent there.
Otherwise it was just as empty and alone as it had been when Toph had lived here full time.
If Toph could have sold it, he probably would have.
Fingers danced along his ribs. Matt startled badly.
"What are you thinking about this loudly this early?" Toph muttered into Matt's shoulder.
"Life?" Matt shrugged carefully. "I guess?"
Toph lifted his head enough to blink at him, eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"The house seems really empty," he admitted after a couple long seconds of chewing the words over. "It's not a home. I know you love Mira and that she's family, and that your dad's study is downstairs, but...God, this place is just cold." He rolled partially onto his side and put a hand on Toph's chest. "Fuck, Barnaby, I don't know how you came from this place. It's — it's — shit."
"When you can't come from a place, you come from people. No, listen." Toph tapped a finger against Matt's nose; Matt snapped his mouth closed. "You come from a wonderful, supportive home filled with people who encouraged you to try new things — even if you failed at them — and who loved you regardless. Yes, it wasn't all roses and sunshine. I know this. We've talked about that. But your parents have done their damndest to make sure you and your sisters knew you were loved, and that if the world chewed you up and spit you out, you could go back to the nest and try again." He gestured to the room around them. "I clearly didn't have that. This place is not home for me, and you know this. This is just a house. So I come from people. I'm a product of Mira, of Auntie B, of Delia and, by proxy, Uncle Phil and Aunt Helen. Even those years with relatives on the James side of the family shaped me, though that was more a what not to be than anything."
Matt stared.
"My first roommate at school had a lot to do with it, too," he continued. "I was...shit, I was so angry. I was angry at Natalie, I was angry at the Stanton side of the family for not trying hard enough — "
" — They couldn't do anything, could they? Legally?"
"Not without a hell of a custody battle. She was away on business. She'd designated guardians. They really didn't have a leg to stand on." He wrapped an arm around Matt's middle. "My first roommate at boarding school was Taylor Cannen. He was there on scholarship, and some of the legacy and full tuition kids were absolute dickheads to the guys on scholarship. Taylor could grin and bear it in public as much as anybody, and he made it clear that I could either be like he expected — like them — or I could be a decent human being."
There was little doubt of which Toph chose, but Matt waited to hear him say it.
"I had Mira's voice in the back of my head for a while, reminding me to be my father's son instead of my mother's, though she's never actually come right out and said it like that." Toph snorted. "Oh, God, you can tell when she's thinking it, though. Daddy was the one who hired her, and I swear he's up in heaven still patting himself on the back for it all these years later."
"Taylor is the TD Cannen who comments so much on your Facebook stuff," Matt said slowly.
"Taylor Dwayne." Toph grinned. "He started going by TD the summer before college. It felt more like him than just Taylor."
Matt brushed his nose across Toph's. "Where did he go, again?"
"MIT. He loves it." His smile softened. "Then I went to college and met you and your family. And Colby. You're where I come home to, now."
"It doesn't feel right," Matt blurted. He then had to hastily add, "At the beginning of the semester, when you're not there. It doesn't feel right until you arrive. That's why I wait up for you. To make sure you actually get here, sure, but it doesn't...a place you're supposed to be doesn't feel right until you actually get there is what I'm saying."
Toph slid his hand up the back of Matt's shirt. "Anybody who says you aren't a romantic is dead wrong."
By anybody Toph really meant your exgirlfriend and they both left it at that.
"I don't know if I'd go that far," he muttered, the back of his neck warming.
"You struggle not to burn water and yet insist on making me dinner on my birthday every year," Toph said flatly.
Alright, he could concede that one.
"That's because you deserve nice things." He wasn't sure how he managed it, but he rolled Toph mostly under him, his weight balanced on his elbows. "You deserve nice things and I'm going to try to make sure you get them."
Which, well, when he looked at it literally was a little ridiculous considering the disposable income disparity between the two of them. Good thing Matt didn't give a shit about it while simulataneously recognizing nice things didn't mean expensive things. A bottle of Toph's favorite white wine. Some good whiskey at the end of a long day. A marathon of his favorite TV show. A date to the movies. Wednesday wing night at Eddie O's. Whatever musical-ish show was at the Smith.
Nice things.
Toph curled up in his armchair in Matt's favorite flannel because he was chilly. Toph as he cooked, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, his voice soft as he talked to Fidget, who lay on a stool. Chunky wool gloves and old man cardigans. A good cup of dark roast.
Nice things.
Matt inhaled deeply and scooted down the mattress a bit. Toph stilled.
"When...when did you last have an STD test?" Matt asked slowly. "I went last spring. I stopped at Starbucks in Canandaigua on the way back and got us those bags of dark roast because they were on sale." He'd told Toph he'd needed to take a trip to Canandaigua. He just hadn't told him why.
"You went to Planned Parenthood." There was no accusation in Toph's voice, only soft surprise.
"Yeah. I didn't...I didn't feel comfortable going to the health center. Not because they found anything, I just..." He shrugged.
Somebody always knew somebody else, and Matt had wanted at least a sliver of anonymity. The last thing he'd needed was to have word get back to Toph. Toph would have asked him if everything was alright — and it had been — and he wouldn't have pushed. Which was fine, since Matt had desperately needed the space.
He'd been realigning his relative normal, after all.
"I went for one after Sammy and I split," Toph said. "I haven't been with anyone since so I haven't gotten another."
Matt's head snapped up, eyes wide. "You didn't with — nope. No, I'm sorry, that's none of my business." He rested his forehead in the slight dip beneath Toph's sternum. "It's really not my business."
Toph hummed thoughtfully, carding his fingers through Matt's hair. "No harm, no foul."
"Really?" He peeked at Toph through his lashes.
"Really." Hands stilling, Toph asked, "What are you thinking?"
He took a deep breath. "You like blowjobs right?"
"Yes."
"Can I give you one?"
"Yes."
Matt smiled. "Great." He pushed his hand under Toph's shirt, sliding the hem toward his armpits. "Um...wait..."
Toph blinked. "Okay."
"Just..." He sat up completely, straddling Toph's left thigh. "I — we should..." He made a frustrated noise deep in his throat. "We should — this is new and Jesus I can't find my words. Um, safeword?" The back of his neck was on fire.
"Sure. Yes. Puffin." Toph pushed up on his elbows. "Stoplight system? Green for all in, go ahead. Yellow for slow down and proceed with caution."
"Red for stop and reassess," Matt said. "Safeword out for abort mission."
He nodded. "What's your safeword?"
Matt mulled it over. "Ontario."
"Like the lake?"
"Yeah." He tilted his head. "Puffin. Those are the those little football-size birds you love, aren't they?"
Toph grinned, nodding.
"Color?" Matt asked, pushing at Toph's t-shirt again until he took it off. "Have you ever seen them in person?"
"Green. No." He flung the offending article of clothing off the bed. "They're off the coast of Maine, so it's not like I've got to go to California or anything to see them."
Then again, technically speaking, it wasn't an issue for Toph to get a couple of plane tickets to California on short notice. He was privileged enough to do shit like that, and they both knew it. It wasn't a secret. He'd never shied away from it, but he hadn't flaunted it, either.
"Why haven't you gone?" Matt asked, dropping his own shirt over the edge of the mattress.
"It's not the kind of thing I want to do alone."
"We'll go. Just you and me. After graduation. We'll find one of those sleepy seaside towns and get a room at a bed and breakfast, and we'll see your puffins." He moved off Toph's thigh. "I promise. You and me, after graduation. A trip to Maine."
They could pull it off. Matt would make damn sure they did.
"So, um, I guess you'll...tell me if something isn't working for you?" Matt settled on his knees between Toph's legs. He leaned forward and did what he wanted to do for months — he put his mouth on the grey knight's helmet inked on Toph's side.
Toph sighed, one hand coming to cradle the back of Matt's head. He didn't push or direct, leaving it there only for contact.
Matt slid his mouth across pale, smooth skin to the trail of fine hair leading under the wasitband of Toph's boxers. He looked up and asked, voice rough, "Color?"
"Green."
The boxers joined the shirts on the floor.
Inhaling, Matt stroked his hands over Toph's belly and took a moment to just look at him.
"Hey."
He refocused on Toph's patient expression.
"Color?"
Matt took Toph in hand and leaned down. "Green. Very green."
There were a couple differences between them — Toph wasn't circumcised being the most obvious — and he was a little bit thicker than Matt.
Still, Matt had been on the receiving end of enough blowjobs to know what he liked, and while he and Toph could talk their preferences to death — and probably would at some point — the more fun way to figure out what worked and what didn't was to do it.
So he did, promptly overestimating his own ability, and gagged.
"Easy, easy — breathe," Toph said, propped up on one elbow and carding his free hand through Matt's hair. "It's not a race."
Matt coughed. "Yeah. I just — whoops." He grinned.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm good. Let's..." He licked his palm a couple of times; his hand slid a little easier.
Toph inhaled sharply.
A little slower, Matt bent his head and tried again. It went much better this time. Matt looked up through his bangs to see Toph staring at him, his bitten-red mouth hanging open.
Humming slightly, Matt settled in. Toph's leg slid up over his shoulder, heel digging into Matt's back. He looked up in time to see Toph's abs flex.
Sliding his mouth free, he asked, "Color?"
"G-green. Very green. The greenest. Oh, God, get up here." Toph urged Matt up his body, tugging on his underwear until he removed it.
Matt kissed him, pushing into Toph's hand. His grip was too dry and tight, but it felt good and smooth when he rocked against Toph's spit-slick erection.
He widened his knees and rolled his hips forward. Toph's grip tightened reflexively. One of the pillows tipped off the edge of the mattress in his haste to find somewhere to plant his hand to hold himself up. Toph's free hand found Matt's shoulder and he trailed his nails along the skin. Matt shuddered hard.
Toph smirked. Matt kissed him again, sloppy this time. He dropped to his elbow, and he had to bring his other arm up for support. Toph grunted, the backs of his fingers brushing maddeningly over Matt's lower belly.
The base of his spine tightened. Toph's breathing stuttered, and he pulled Matt in for another kiss. One of them was steadily leaking and it made it everything that much slicker. Matt buried his face against Toph's neck, pressing kisses to every bit of skin under his mouth. Toph's hand slid up and over his bunched shoulder muscle and down across his collarbone, absently grazing a nipple.
Which were apparently hardwired straight to Matt's groin.
He came with a punched-out groan, Toph not far behind him. He tried to keep his weight balanced between his elbows and knees as he caught his breath, fingers absently stroking through Toph's hair.
Toph let his legs fall back to the mattress with a thump and a muttered, "Christ."
Almost punch drunk, Matt stifled a chuckle against the meat of Toph's bare shoulder. "Nah. Just Matty."
"That's just — that's just bad, Matthew."
Grinning, he levered himself back up onto his palms. The two of them were sticky and a little sweaty — Toph's hair looked as though it were home to several small woodland creatures — but his smile was soft and sated, and Matt kissed him sweetly. He couldn't help it.
"There's wet wipes in the drawer," Toph said quietly, tipping his head toward the nighstand.
Matt pushed back to his haunches and surveyed the mess with a grimace. "I feel like I'm better off going to get an actual wash cloth."
"Do you remember where the bathroom is?"
"Vaguely. Somewhere down the hall." There were about half a dozen other doors down the hallway, too, but he didn't mention it.
Toph laughed softly. "Wet wipes. Then shower?"
It sounded like an invitation. Matt preferred to hedge his bets and said, instead, "I'll wash your hair?"
"That would be great."
"Then coffee?"
"Even better."
Smiling ridiculously, his chest full of — of something warm and fuzzy, he happily clambered over Toph's outstretched leg.