Unconditionally

Chapter 1: When Gus Met Luca 2009 “Oh, no, not again.” Gus Hanson groaned when the first notes of last year’s most irritating song started playing. The Big Gay Handbook probably dictated every gay man should love Britney, but Gus just couldn’t. He cringed at her infantile moaning and wanted to forever scrub the image of her in the Lolita schoolgirl uniform from his retinas. He sipped his beer and wished he’d stayed home and binge-watched the Discovery Channel documentaries he’d DVRed, indulging in a big mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream like he’d planned all along. But when his friend Fred had asked if he wanted to go out for a drink, yesterday’s phone call from his mom had been fresh in his memory. She’d ranted on and on about how it was time for him to meet someone and he’d never do that if he spent all his time working. “Unless there is some male nurse you think is cute and haven’t told me about, of course.” His mom knew how important his work was to him, how he’d wanted to be a doctor as long as he could remember. She’d encouraged his dreams, and, for his sixth birthday, she’d bought him an old stethoscope in a thrift store, something he still considered his best present ever. He’d spent every moment possible making up diagnoses for his pretend-sick mother, and she’d been patient and asked thoughtful questions, stimulating his imagination. But his mom also knew how lonely he felt sometimes. Ever since he’d confided in her, she’d urged him to put himself out there, to try to meet someone. Since there weren’t any cute nurses, or other doctors, for that matter, here he was. As usual, Fred had spotted some hot guy as soon as they’d gotten inside and taken off with him. He was most likely in a bathroom somewhere, getting his d**k sucked right this second while Gus hung out by the bar. Alone. Trying his damnedest not to hum along to the terrible music. “Live long and prosper, sir. But aren’t you a little short to be Mr. Spock?” The low, breathy voice in Gus’s ear startled him. “What?” He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to look at the speaker. How was it possible he’d been so deep in thought he’d missed a guy coming up to him, standing so close, he could practically whisper in Gus’s ear? But Gus took a closer look and forgot about everything else. The guy was thin and tall and had to hunch over to get his mouth next to Gus’s ear. He wore a figure-hugging pink sweater, so short it left a strip of skin visible over the waistband of his jeans. His dark brown hair reached his chin and had the slightest curl at the ends. Long bangs covered one of his eyes, leaving only one dark, glittering eye visible and trained on Gus. But his lips stole all Gus’s attention. Full, pouty lips, curved up in an amused smile. Lips that glistened in the dim light at the bar like he’d just licked them or put something on them. “Um…what?” Gus asked again. He tried to stop staring—he really did—but it was hard. He’d never seen lips like that, lips that begged to be kissed. “I said: aren’t you too short to be Mr. Spock?” Gus had no idea what they were talking about. “Too short? Don’t you mean too young?” The actor playing Spock had to be pushing eighty by now. Gus worked long hours at the hospital and could use a decent night’s sleep—but he didn’t think he looked more than twice his own age. “No, no, honey.” The guy shook his head with an exaggerated movement. “Not the old guy. The new one. Zachary Quinto. He’s sooo hot.” He rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t believe Gus wasn’t up to speed on pop culture. He fanned himself; rapid movements with a pale hand and the long, slim fingers spread wide. A giggle bubbled up in Gus, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stop the undignified sound. “No.” The guy grabbed Gus’s hand and pulled it away from his mouth. “That was a wonderful sound. Let it out.” “Okay,” Gus mumbled. Heat crept up his cheeks under the guy’s intense scrutiny, and Gus squirmed. The guy didn’t let go of his hand, and Gus didn’t try to get loose. He enjoyed the feeling of soft fingers on his skin. “What do you mean by the Mr. Spock comment?” he asked, unable to keep his eyes off the guy’s lips. He longed to see them quirk up in a smile, and he wanted to know what made them look so shiny. Had the guy put on gloss or something? “You look exactly like the new Mr. Spock.” The guy smiled, and Gus almost swooned at the sight of the corners of his lush mouth curling up. “I think it’s the eyebrows,” the guy continued and traced his finger along Gus’s right eyebrow. “Or the nose.” The finger changed direction and continued down the bridge of his nose. Gus shivered. When he registered the words, he sighed and shook his head. “You do!” the guy insisted. “But shorter and less hipstery.” He took a step closer, leaned in, and put his fabulous mouth next to Gus’s ear again. Gus quivered, and his stomach jumped in anticipation for whatever came next. “And you’re way hotter,” the guy rasped and pressed a butterfly-light kiss on Gus’s earlobe. Gus moaned at the touch of luscious lips on his skin. I’m never going to wash my ear again. The guy took a step back and laughed. “Oh, honey, I’ll kiss you anytime,” he said. “You just have to ask.” Gus’s eyes widened in horror. “Did I say that out loud?” He couldn’t believe his own behavior around this stranger. He was usually put together and efficient and eloquent. He was a doctor, for crying out loud, not some blushing i***t who spoke without thinking. “You did.” The guy nodded and swept away his bangs with his free hand so Gus could see both his eyes for the first time. It was too dark to make out the color, but they were big and glittered with playfulness. “What’s your name?” The guy arched a perfect wide eyebrow. He still held Gus’s hand and played with his fingers. Gus tightened his grip, afraid the guy would want to let go. “Gus,” he croaked out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “My name is Gus.” “Nice to meet you, Gus. I’m Luca, and I want to kiss you.” Gus’s breath hitched, and Luca waited for a second as if he were asking Gus’s permission. There was no way Gus would object, and he leaned in as if drawn into Luca’s personal space. Luca put his free hand on Gus’s neck and pulled him closer until they were just a hairsbreadth apart. He slid his hand along Gus’s cheek bone and gripped his chin, tilting it up. Luca’s breath ghosted against Gus’s lips, and Gus whimpered. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed, and he was sure he’d never met anyone as hot as Luca. His entire body tingled with anticipation. Finally, Luca closed the distance and kissed him. It was only the briefest touch of lips—lips even softer than they looked—but enough to make Gus’s knees buckle. When Luca pulled away, Gus wanted to pull him back and never let go. “Strawberry,” he whispered and licked his lips. Luca chuckled, and Gus groaned and hid his face in the crook of Luca’s neck. Had he spoken out loud again? But he wasn’t embarrassed. He felt like he belonged there. He inhaled Luca’s scent and enjoyed the fresh floweriness of it. It suited Luca. Gus licked his lips, savoring the taste, thinking strawberry lip gloss was his new favorite taste. Luca’s hand lingered on Gus’s neck, as unwilling to let go of Gus as Gus was to leave his new favorite place in the world. “Oh, honey. You’re going to be mine.” Gus trembled when Luca’s whisper made goosebumps appear all over his body. He didn’t object to Luca’s statement. He just nodded because Luca was right. Gus was already his.