Chapter Ten 2

Jake reached for him without a word, taking his face in his hands and kissing him.

The gentle kiss kept Brandon off-balance, and he leaned into Jake’s arms as they kissed tenderly, oh Christ , almost lovingly.

He had to stop thinking this way.

It was a sure road to disaster, though he’d enjoy the ride. One of his hands sprawled across Jake’s chest, just touching.

Jake moved until his hand covered Brandon’s resting on his chest, and his other hand stayed at Brandon’s face, his thumb sliding over Brandon’s cheekbone.

His entire body thrummed with the need for release, but he ignored it.

This gentle kiss intoxicated him.

For his part, Brandon was terrified of moving.

He didn’t want to do anything that might end this moment. It was so unlike anything he’d felt before, his chest aching as he trembled under the gentle attention.

Several times Jake pulled back from the kiss, intending to end it only to tilt his head the other way and delve back into it for more, still gentle.

His heart raced, but he didn’t know why.

His breath was gone like it had been sucked out of him by a cold wind, but he didn’t know why.

All he knew was that this felt incredible.

Familiar. Right.

“Jake,”

Brandon whispered in an aching voice. He wanted to know where this was coming from; he wanted to ask if Jake felt like he did. But the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to move an inch from Jake’s arms.

Jake pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against Brandon’s, and when he spoke he was still close enough that their lips brushed. “Are you asking me to stop?”

he asked quietly, heart in his throat.

“Never,”

Brandon breathed without hesitation. They were so close that Brandon’s eyes were still closed, and his fingers clenched on Jake’s shoulder. Jake responded by merely pressing his lips to Brandon’s again, whimpering a little as the lust finally began to overpower whatever magic this surreal kiss had created. Brandon’s voice was almost inaudible between kisses. “Please don’t stop.”

Jake gasped out a breath and dragged the air back in, barely able to breathe as Brandon begged him. “I want you,”

he rasped between kisses.

“I’m yours,”

Brandon sighed against Jake’s lips.

Jake groaned against the gust of the words, surprised at the rush of emotion they caused in him. He hesitated, not wanting to end the moment, but his desire won out, and he urged Brandon to stand with him as he struggled to his feet.

Brandon shook so hard he had to hold onto Jake for balance once they got their feet again. He curled his arms around Jake’s neck, sliding close against him, clinging for all he was worth.

Jake simply turned them both, laying Brandon out on the bed beneath him; then began to commando crawl up the bed, sliding Brandon with him until they were close enough for Jake to stretch across to the bedside table. As he reached for the handle his fingers shook.

Feeling drunk on Jake’s scent, Brandon moaned and nuzzled his neck before he moved, hands sliding along his arms and back, pulling his eyes open to watch him longingly.

Jake grabbed the bottle and looked back down as he ran his free hand along Brandon’s chest. “When I saw you running,”

he said before he could think twice about it, “I didn’t even know it was you and I wanted you.”

Brandon lifted his hand to slide his fingers along Jake’s chin. “Hmmm. Might make me jealous, wanting some stranger running around the track,”

he murmured.

“I felt guilty for it,”

Jake admitted breathlessly as he turned his head into the touch and closed his eyes.

“Guilty? For wanting a stranger?”

Brandon asked, caressing Jake’s cheek with his knuckles. Jake nodded, not opening his eyes as he blushed slightly. His hand dragged down Brandon’s side, sliding under his hip. Brandon raised an eyebrow. “And when you figured out it was me?”

he fished.

Jake breathed out heavily again and lowered his head, one hand working under Brandon’s thigh to lift his leg slowly and wrap it around Jake’s hip. “I was relieved,”

he answered in a hoarse gust of breath.

Brandon tightened his leg around Jake, one arm sliding around his neck. He wanted to beg for clarification—relieved it wasn’t someone else? Or did that mean Jake felt something for him? Instead, he tried laughing it off. “Well, that does a lot of good for my ego,”

he poked, smiling a little.

Jake turned his head and pressed his lips to Brandon’s demandingly, shifting his hips to settle between his legs. “Means that some time between Friday and this morning I fell pretty damn hard for you,”

he breathed, his heart pounding.

Sweet Jesus . “Fell for me—me?”

Brandon asked in surprise, fingers gripping Jake hard as he hoped with everything that was in him.

“Hard,”

Jake breathed with a nod, his face pressed against Brandon’s cheek, unable to look at him.

Brandon moaned sharply as he clasped Jake’s face between his hands and pulled him up to kiss him, ever so lightly, gentle, like before. “Me too,”

he whispered.

Jake’s breath left him in a little rush of air, and he kissed Brandon yet again, reaching between them with his other hand to slide a lubricated finger into the man little by little .

Shuddering, Brandon’s breath hitched, then relaxed utterly as he fell into the kiss. This was not ‘just sex’ anymore. Not to him.

“Christ, what have we done?”

Jake panted as he kissed Brandon urgently and prepared him as quickly as he dared.

“Don’t know, just don’t stop, please,”

Brandon begged as soon as their lips parted, writhing under him. Jake nodded obediently and lifted himself up, covering his cock in the slick lubricant and then lowering himself back down to capture Brandon’s lips as he guided himself in.

“Jake, oh God , don’t let me go,”

Brandon whispered, closing his eyes as he welcomed the other man into his body, hitching both legs up around his waist. “Oh please...”

He was out of his mind with what Jake had admitted. It exploded in his head and burned through him like wildfire.

Jake responded by rocking his hips and groaning as he slid his hand under Brandon’s shoulders to pull their bodies closer together. Brandon wrapped around Jake like a limpet ...

he thought distantly that this was getting totally out of hand, echoing Jake’s most recent question. But he couldn’t bring himself to focus on it, not when he wanted this so much. “Now, Jake, now,”

he breathed.

Jake pulled back and slammed into him, rocking deep inside before repeating the motion and falling into a punishing rhythm, whimpering and moaning Brandon’s name as he tried to keep the pace.

Brandon’s abandoned cries of pleasure only served to encourage Jake further, and he gave up on any pretense of gentility.

Brandon bit his lip against even more inappropriate words as the thrusts jarred him, almost as if each snap of his body was emphasizing what he felt.

Jake gasped now with each thrust into Brandon’s body, groaning as if the effort of not coming was too much for him to take without a struggle.

He pulled almost entirely out of Brandon after every thrust, wanting to make damn certain Brandon enjoyed it.

The pleasure and effort began to make him lightheaded, and with that came a complete loss of his considerable control.

He cried out suddenly, pushing up to his knees and dragging Brandon’s hips up into his lap as he tried desperately to fight back his orgasm and fuck Brandon at the same time.

The lost sound wrenched from Jake made Brandon arch up against him.

He gave a rough yell of strained pleasure as his entire body stiffened, and Brandon threw back his head and cried out his lover’s name as he slammed into orgasm, the proof of it marking them both with hot slickness.

Jake’s body curled over his, hips losing their rhythm as his fingers dug into Brandon’s skin, and he came with a tortured shout.

His muscles twitched and clenched through the orgasm and Brandon was afraid he’d break out crying at the gorgeous pleasure of it, God help him. He squeezed his eyes shut and rode it out, wrapped around Jake as his shout echoed in his ears.

It felt like hours before Jake stopped shivering. He pushed up and looked down at Brandon finally, panting slightly, eyes screwed shut, skin glistening with sweat. Without a word he carefully pulled out, gasping at the over-stimulation of the friction, and lowered himself to his side next to Brandon.

Brandon didn’t even wait. He rolled over to wrap his arms back around Jake’s neck, curling as close as he could get while still trying to catch his breath.

Jake held him close, shutting his eyes as he tried to remember why in the hell he’d told Brandon what he had. And what was more, it was true. And Brandon had reciprocated, something Jake had never expected. “We’re in quite a mess now,”

he murmured affectionately.

Tightening his arms, Brandon nodded against Jake’s chest. He didn’t trust himself to speak just yet. He was quite afraid of what might come out.

Not getting any response, Jake frowned, worried, and lowered his head to press his lips against Brandon’s forehead. “Did I hurt you?”

he asked softly.

“No,”

Brandon murmured, shaking his head to reinforce his response. After a few moments, he had to say something. “A mess, huh?”

“I’m a mess,”

Jake responded with a nod.

Brandon smiled a little and chuckled, keeping his head tucked against Jake’s neck. “No, you specifically said we’re in quite a mess.”

“Well, now, we are,”

Jake argued sensibly. “Doesn’t mean the inner Jake isn’t doing a Snoopy dance, but it’s still a mess.”

Pulling back to look at Jake incredulously, Brandon just barely held back a guffaw. “A ‘ Snoopy’ dance?”

“You can’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about,”

Jake insisted haughtily, raising his chin to hide the smile that played at his lips.

“Ah, okay,”

Brandon said. He was more interested in the rest of what Jake said anyway. “I’m glad I could make you dance inside,”

he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Jake’s mouth. Jake responded in kind, pulling Brandon closer and turning his head into the kiss.

Brandon sighed, but didn’t want to let the question slip away. It would bother him all night. “Jake. Mess. Talk,”

he murmured against swollen lips.

Jake groaned plaintively and sighed as he rested his head back on the pillow. “If we’re ever found out,”

he murmured in answer, “it could ruin us. And now we’ve got the added bonus of getting our hearts broken if something goes wrong.”

Brandon drew in a slow breath. He really hadn’t expected Jake to put it so plainly. But there it was, clear as day. “So now what?”

he murmured, huddling in closer with his forehead against Jake’s shoulder, afraid to look at the other man’s face. “Do we just stop?”

His voice broke at the end, reflecting how very much he did not want that. Jesus. They’d been ‘together’ for three days. Only three days .

“Pfft. I’m cynical, not masochistic,”

Jake answered with a small laugh, squeezing Brandon tight.

The breath audibly stuttered out of Brandon as he tightened his arms around Jake. “I’m glad,”

he murmured against warm skin.

Jake ducked his head to nuzzle against Brandon’s temple and sighed. “I need to go get my pills,”

he whispered regretfully. He didn’t want to get up, but he knew if he left it much longer he wouldn’t sleep at all.

Brandon sighed too and started to move. “Stay here. I’ll get them,”

he murmured, rolling out of the bed and padding out toward the kitchen.

“Don’t forget the alcohol!”

Jake called out as he lay in bed shivering at the sudden loss of warmth.

“Don’t get your hopes up!”

Brandon yelled back from the stairs. Wincing a little at the cold tile in the kitchen, he opened the cabinet he’d seen Jake get into, frowned at all the little bottles, and started reading labels.

Thinking about the cabinet, Jake huffed and rolled out of bed, wincing as he stood.

Adrenaline was a wonderful thing.

After the fact was when it hurt to move. He padded through the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen to slide up behind Brandon. Reaching into the cabinet for the large prescription bottle on the bottom shelf, he kissed the back of Brandon’s shoulder, then turned to the refrigerator.

“Jake, most of these are expired; why do you keep them? These types of drugs don’t keep their efficacy, you might as well be taking sugar pills,”

Brandon said with a frown, poking around through the bottles. “And some could be dangerous if mixed.”

“The labels don’t mean shit,”

Jake answered as he reached in for a beer and straightened back up to lean against the island.

Brandon threw an annoyed look over his shoulder. “Please tell me you don’t mix and match these. Really,” he asked.

Jake shrugged noncommittally and popped the two pills into his mouth before twisting open the beer cap.

Brandon looked nervous and on the edge of scared. He glanced back to the cabinet, then back to Jake. “If I quit giving you the eye about the muscle relaxers and the beer, will you let me throw the rest of this shit out?”

he asked seriously.

“Maybe.”

“Jake,”

Brandon protested, voice pained. “I really, really would like to know you’re going to wake up every morning.”

Jake sighed and his shoulders slumped. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Brandon literally flinched, and he turned his chin sharply away, unable to verbalize anything after what felt like it might as well have been a punch in the gut. He twisted his body away from Jake’s, gripping the edge of the bar to keep from reaching for him.

Jake watched Brandon’s reaction and his stomach turned as he stood there. He sighed softly and looked away, shaking his head as he tapped his finger on his beer bottle. “Brandon,”

he finally said.

Forcing himself to take a breath and blink burning eyes, Brandon turned his chin just enough to acknowledge him. Jake took a step forward and slid up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and setting the bottle on the counter. He rested his chin on Brandon’s shoulder and looked up into the still open cabinet. “What do you want me to do?”

he asked quietly.

He suspected Jake meant the pills, and Brandon did make his eyes focus on the several rows of bottles, but what he had inside had to come out. “I want you to wake up each morning,”

he said in a fragile voice. “With me.”

Jake turned his head just enough to press his nose against the side of Brandon’s neck. There were a lot of different meanings he could take from that, he knew. Was Brandon still talking about the pills and the possible danger of taking them, or was he talking about something more personal? Either way, it was a tricky subject, wasn’t it?

“Then stay here with me,”

Jake responded finally, not giving himself a chance to think it through.

Brandon relaxed back against Jake, sliding his hands over strong forearms to settle over Jake’s fingers. How they’d gotten onto such shaky ground, he didn’t know. Brandon cursed himself for getting too serious too fast, although Jake seemed to be right there with him. “I want to,”

he whispered. Then his voice strengthened. “And I want to flush most of this shit down the toilet,” he added.

“That would make me mighty cranky,”

Jake muttered with a sigh. “You do realize most of those aren’t even prescription pills, right? I’ve put over the counter stuff in the smaller bottles because the shelves are so small. And the prescription stuff I do take is the only thing keeping me moving at all,”

he argued, trying not to get defensive.

Brandon’s eyes softened, and he turned his chin to rub his forehead against Jake’s chin. “I want you to take care of yourself,”

he said helplessly, still frowning at the bottles. “I hate that you hurt.”

“So do I,”

Jake laughed wryly, reaching out to pluck a bottle at random off the shelf. He opened and dumped several of the pills out onto the counter. “Tylenol Arthritis,”

he said as he turned one of the huge white pills so that the name could be read. He reached for another and repeated the action, revealing a mound of little bitty pink Benadryl pills. Another container held blue and white Tylenol PM tablets. And another Jake pulled out revealed several Tylox. He pointed at them and said, “I’m allergic to those, but they’re stronger. If I’m hurting real bad I take one of those and two Benadryl with it.”

Surprised, Brandon watched in silence as Jake went through several of the bottles with him. It was more than he could have hoped for, considering. Matching up the number of surgeries with the pain and looking over the medicines spread across the bar, Brandon’s gut cramped uncomfortably. “I think I understand the beer a little more now,”

he murmured. He didn’t like it. But he understood it. He was also more upset, because this revealed just how much pain Jake must be living with daily. Just living with. His hand curled into a fist.

Jake smiled a little, his chin still on Brandon’s shoulder. “And,”

he held his breath for a moment, sighing heavily and pushing at the bottle of Vicodin. “If you really want me to give those up, we’re talking a few weeks of withdrawal. I’d rather wait till summer if it’s all the same to you.”

The anger drained away as Brandon comprehended what Jake was offering. His fist relaxed, and he reached up behind him to curl his arm about Jake’s neck. It was a hell of a peace offering. “How about we talk about it when school’s out?”

he posed, knowing he was making several large assumptions based on Jake’s words.

“And until then you stop worrying?”

Jake countered.

Brandon licked his bottom lip, looking across the counter and the host of pills. “I’ll try,”

he promised in a hoarse voice.

Jake sighed again and nodded as he lifted his head off Brandon’s shoulder and kissed the warm skin gently. “I’ve been doing this for over ten years,”

he murmured, “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

His voice, although the tone was reassuring, sounded slightly bitter and tinged with sadness. It was obvious that Jake had long ago resigned himself to pain every day. He was willing to give up the prescription pills because the reality was that they didn’t help all that much.

Sighing and trying to push away his worry and uncertainty, Brandon looked over at the clock. “We didn’t have dinner and it’s still early. Want something to eat?” he asked.

“Yeah,”

Jake answered, kissing Brandon’s neck one last time for good measure before he stepped back to let him move. He looked Brandon up and down appraisingly and smirked. “Want some clothes?”

Glancing down at himself, Brandon rolled his eyes. “What’s the matter?”

he asked, his voice slowly going back to normal. “Don’t like the free show?”

“Mystery can be alluring,”

Jake countered with a wag of his finger. “And cooking while naked is not recommended,”

he added with a serious nod.

Brandon laughed at him. “You need to get yourself some clothes then, Thundercat. Because whatever I attempted to fix would not be edible. I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t cook.”

Jake muttered and then took a long gulp of his beer. “Pasta?”

he suggested after swallowing.

Nodding, Brandon leaned over to kiss him sweetly. “I’m getting in the shower. Want some clothes?”

he asked, eyes brightening at his joke.

“Hmph,”

Jake answered as he wrapped one arm around Brandon and squeezed his ass in a blatant move.

A little over an hour later, they were back on the couch, Brandon with papers and pen, wearing more of Jake’s clothes, Jake with the television remote and baseball.

The science teacher glanced over his glasses in amusement each time Jake crowed or cussed, but held his tongue as he graded.

It was comfortable.

It was comforting.

When the game ended, Brandon glanced at the clock and groaned.

11:30.

He started stacking papers and sliding them into his backpack in resignation.

Jake had asked him to stay after Brandon had expressed his desire to wake up with him. But tonight it just wouldn’t work. He had no clothes for work and his tests for tomorrow were on his computer at home.

“Spring training games can bite my ass,”

Jake grumbled as he clicked off the television. He looked over at Brandon and tried not to sigh. He knew Brandon had things to take care of at home.

Brandon chuckled and pulled off his glasses. “Opening day next week,”

he reminded as he closed his pack and stood up. Jake muttered disconsolately and sulked on the couch. “Christ, don’t do that, Jake. I’ll be driving home and back at 4 a.m.,”

Brandon said.

Jake glanced up at him in surprise and then huffed and stood up slowly. “You’d better get going if you’re going to get any sleep,”

he said, stepping closer to slide his hands around Brandon’s waist.

“You know I don’t want to go, right?”

Brandon murmured, leaning his temple against Jake’s lips.

“Mm hmm,”

Jake responded with a little huff.

Brandon sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Wash my uniform, will you?”

he asked. “At least the pants and briefs.”

“Oh sure, leave me alone and make me do manual labor,”

Jake teased with a little kiss to Brandon’s ear before he pulled back. “Yeah, I’ll wash ‘em.”

“Thanks,”

Brandon said, smiling. Reluctant to leave, he made himself step back, pick up his pack, and start for the door.

Jake watched him go with his shoulders hunched and his hands deep in the pockets of his sweats. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to stay or come back. And since that was exactly what Jake wanted to do, he kept his mouth shut.

“Hey, Jake?”

Brandon asked from where he stopped in the doorway, keys in hand.

“Yeah?”

Jake answered, trying to keep his voice even.

Several things warred for the opportunity to be spoken, and for a moment Brandon was afraid it would all spew out. After a long pause, he settled on, “Miss you already.”

And he was out the door before he lost the nerve to do what he had to do. Life had to go on, after all. Never mind that it hurt like hell to leave his lover.

Jake frowned as the door closed and sniffed loudly. He shuffled over to the front door and stood by the side window, watching as Brandon drove away.