Read A Boy Called Cin for Free Online

limits, and Tom just keeps driving until he finds a lookout point. It's a safe bet that local teenagers come up here to make out, and he likes the idea of that. He hates to think that he's using Cin to make himself feel young, but maybe he is, and maybe that's okay. It might be better than the growing possibility that there's a lot more to it.
    There's definitely more to it than that, so it's safer to pretend that this is just a little fun for the beginning of his mid-life crisis.
    Cin starts awake when the car comes to a stop. He blinks a few times and clears his throat. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep on you."
    "I don't mind you falling asleep. I took you away to relax. I'm glad you're relaxing."
    "Where are we?" Cin sits up and stretches. Tom fixates on the strip of flesh that's revealed when Cin raises his arms above his head. He's starting to regret that he said no to sex, but on the other hand, he can relax as well this way. No anticipation to keep him on edge.
    "No idea. Just seemed like a nice spot."
    "Seems like the kind of spot where teenagers have awkward sex in the back of old cars. Are we making out? Because I'd be into that. I really appreciated the anonymous donation the shelter got the other week."
    Tom blushes. When he found out that the place Cin had been going for his shift—his volunteer shift—was the local animal shelter, he'd wanted to help out. He hadn't really counted on Cin figuring out it was him, though. "I, umm. I guessed it was important to you and, y'know, you're the one who has charity issues."
    "Animals are a slightly different case than people. Besides, it'll look good on my resume," Cin says defensively. Tom can tell there's more to it than that, and stays quiet in the hopes that he'll shed some light on it.
    "I'm really allergic to animals," Cin continues. "I can't keep one of my own. But I can go hang out with them once a week and do design work for the shelter for free and answer phones, and it's as close as I can get. It seemed like a good way to fulfill two needs at once."
    "That's okay, I'm terrified of dogs. If you ever need someone to curl up with, though…"
    "You'll come running if I call your name?" Cin raises an eyebrow.
    "I…" Tom hesitates. He would. Cin could call him any time and as long as he wasn't legally obliged to be somewhere else, he'd go to him. He likes spending time with him that much, and he feels like an idiot for it. "I was thinking more along the lines of I like cuddles. But if you ever feel like you need me around, I'll come. Not a lot of people have my private number, y'know?"
    Cin swallows, but then brightens up and grins at Tom. "I'll remember that if ever I feel the need to make a cross-country booty call. Can we climb into the back and make out a while now?"
    "I'd be disappointed if we didn't." Tom grins back.
    *~*~*
    Tom checks his watch for what feels like the hundredth time so far this evening, wondering if twenty minutes is long enough to stay at a gala where you're one of the guests of honor. In theory, he only has to smile and nod at people while they talk to him—there's no speech-giving tonight—but he's already halfway through his second glass of champagne and knows he's running the risk of getting drunk and making an ass of himself.
    "Tom!" A graying man who Tom recognizes, but can't place, approaches him, smiling broadly. "You're not alone tonight, are you? There's usually some pretty thing or other on your arm. Struck out?"
    Tom fights the urge to wrinkle his nose at the guy describing the people he takes to events like this as 'pretty things'. To him, they've been friends, lovers, and necessary social crutches; never things . Pretty, sure. Tom's got a weakness for pretty, and a broad definition of it, too. That doesn't make any of them not people, though.
    "I'm not seeing anyone at the moment. Guess I'm getting too old for a new partner every week," Tom says as pleasantly as he can, hoping he can get himself out of this before he lets