First flight, p.9
First Flight, page 9
“Yeah.” He framed her face with his hands and stood there, just looking at her. “Did you know you’re beautiful?”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “You’ve mentioned it a few times.”
“He’s my boy,” Desmond said, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. “You told me it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. That he was my son.”
“Has he forgiven you?” Leanna returned the embrace. “You’re perfectly imperfect, like the rest of us.”
“I think so,” he said with a sigh. “Maybe. Maybe I don’t want to be imperfect. I was supposed to raise him right.”
“He hurts when the people he loves hurt,” she said, holding him a little tighter. “Along with the million other good things. I think we did all right.”
“You think so? God, I hope we did.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harumoya
sushi + izakaya
Chris looked up at the sign over the doors. “Sushi. You’re sure I will like it?”
“Yep,” Jesse said, holding the door for him. “I would be really surprised if you didn’t.”
He went through to the second set of doors, distracted by the scents filtering out to him. “Where does sushi come from?” Chris said, as he opened the inner door for Jesse.
“Japan, and mostly from the ocean.” Jesse ducked his head as he passed. “They have other stuff, too.”
“Japan. That’s where video games come from.” Chris inhaled, looking around the little arrival area, taking in the giant aquarium, the long counter with glass panels at the back of it, and the woman in a fancy robe who was looking at them. The air carried the scent of fish, of frying, of spices and other things that he had no name for. Every single one made his little voice burble happily about food, though.
“A lot of them, yeah,” Jesse said. He smiled at the woman and held up two fingers. “Hi. Just two, tonight.”
“Sure,” the woman said. “Would you like to sit at the counter or a table?”
“A table, please,” he said, and they followed her through the restaurant.
“Tonight’s special is nigirizushi with salmon roe and the yolk of a quail egg,” she said as she handed over the menus. “California rolls, too, both half-price. Want something to drink to start?”
“Salmon roe?” Chris said, glancing at Jesse.
He leaned over and murmured, “Fish eggs.”
“Oh!” Chris nodded at the woman, the same little warmth swelling inside him as he realized that Jesse had chosen this place for him, had brought him to another source of good food. “I’d like the special with the quail egg, please.”
“Okay,” she said, writing it down. “How many?”
“I can have more than one?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyebrows quirking as she looked at him.
“They’re not very big,” Jesse said, making not quite a complete circle with his thumb and forefinger.
Chris nodded at him, then looked up at the woman again. “Um, three? Please?”
“Sure,” she said. “And anything to start for you, sir?”
Jesse shook his head. “Um, two Cokes, please. And I need a minute to make up my mind,” he said, holding up the menu.
“Sure. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She nodded and walked off.
“Okay, so, when you order sushi, you order it by the piece,” Jesse said, opening Chris’s menu to the pictures in the middle. “Or you can order an assortment that gets you two pieces of four or five or more kinds, or you can ask for whatever the chef wants to make and take your chances. This is what they’ve got, here. Anything with a star by it is, uh, raw.”
“Really?” Chris’s eyes went wide as he looked over the selection. Yes, he’d chosen very well in Jesse. “And I can ask for as many as I want?”
“Basically. You can’t order everything they have, though, because other people want some too.”
“Sharing is good,” Chris said, nodding at the mild admonition. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s sea urchin eggs.” Jesse didn’t care for it, but he knew Chris liked all sorts of odd food combinations.
“And this?”
“Grilled eel.”
“Eel! Like the fish at the aquarium with the teeth?” Chris frowned at the idea.
“Kind of. This is a different kind of eel.”
“Oh. What should I get?” It was more a request for a starting place than anything. Everything looked—smelled—so very good.
“Whatever sounds good,” Jesse said. “This one is egg and rice, this one is a shrimp, and they’ve got things with more than one ingredient down here too.”
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?” He opened his eyes, not bothering to make them focus on the black-on-black shape that was the back of Chris’s head before closing them again. Lying in bed with Chris still felt almost illicit, despite knowing that they had tacit permission.
“Dinner was really very good. I think I could eat there always.” Chris licked his lips in memory.
Jesse laughed. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I did. Very much.” Chris was quiet for a minute. “I like you.”
“Aw. And I like you too.”
“You said you love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I don’t know about love. I want to feed you and give you things and show you that I am strong and trust… trust… trustable, and that those are important things to do, for me. Is that love, like when you say it?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” Jesse said, rubbing his hand over the center of Chris’s chest. “The thing is, love is one of those things no one can explain, not like why the sky is blue or where sushi comes from. Maybe that is love, for you. Me, I want to feed you, too, but I want to just… hang out with you and talk to you and show you stuff and discover cool things with you and listen to you talk to ravens and… and all kind of things.”
“Oh. Good,” Chris said, turning over so they were face-to-face.
“Awesome,” Jesse said, then covered a yawn. “Sorry. Um….”
“It’s time to sleep. Rest well.”
“G’night; you too.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Call for Swanson line three—er, sorry, Jesse Swanson, line three.”
That was strange; his parents usually called his cell, and if Chris needed something he just walked over and said so. Jesse turned around and took the call.
“Thank you for calling Meyer’s Market, this is Jesse. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I’ve missed you,” Kevin said.
“I’m sorry, why are you calling me here? I’m busy.”
“Because I miss you. Don’t you miss me?”
Jesse shook his head. “No, Kevin, I don’t. Look, I’m on the clock. I have to go. Bye.” And he hung up.
Ten minutes later, he was ringing up Mrs. O’Malley when the PA system pinged overhead.
“Call for Jesse Swanson, line three. Call holding line three for Jesse.”
“You’re a popular young man, today,” she said.
Jesse pasted on a smile and nodded. “It seems like I am. Do you have any coupons, ma’am?”
“Oh yes, I do. One for the soap and one for the spinach. I like that young man, Christopher? In the produce section. He’s wonderfully polite.”
He took the slips of newsprint and scanned them, a real smile crossing his face. “That’s nice to hear, thank you. I’ll be sure to tell Chris you said so.” He pressed the enter key a couple of times. “All right, that comes to twenty-seven fifty-nine.”
Once Mrs. O’Malley had taken her groceries, he picked up the phone and pressed the button next to the note that said Line 3. “Thank you for calling Meyer’s Market, this is Jesse. How can I help you?”
“Are you busy now?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m at work. Do you need something?”
“I just needed to hear your voice and tell you that I miss you. That I think we should get back together.”
“Okay, well, that’s not going to happen and I’ve got to get back to work.” Jesse hung up without further ceremony.
Jesse checked the screen of his phone, despite the fact that it was playing the Mom and Dad ringtone. It was indeed his home number, so he answered it. “Hey, Chris.”
“Hi. Um. Kevin was standing outside the store when I went home. He asked me where you were. I said you were inside, but I didn’t say anything else.”
Jesse blinked and put what was left of his cookie back in the bag with its brethren. “Uh, that’s bizarre. Did he try to hit you again or anything?”
“No, he was just standing there. I looked to see if he was following me, but he wasn’t.”
“This is getting creepier,” Jesse said. “Thanks for telling me. If he comes over to the house, pretend you’re not home and don’t let him in, okay?”
“Okay. Does he have a key?” Chris put his hand in his pocket and closed it around the set of keys he carried.
“No, thank God. I never gave him one.” He sighed and checked his watch. “I gotta let you go, ’cause I’ve gotta get back out front. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay. Have a good afternoon.”
“I’ll try. You too.”
“I’m home,” Jesse called, kicking off his shoes.
“In here,” Chris said, from the living room. “Baseball is on.”
“Yeah? Who’s playing?” Jesse wandered in and plunked down beside Chris, then flopped over into his lap. “You’re comfy.”
“Birds,” Chris said, tilting his head and looking down at him. “Blue jays and orioles. I am?”
“I didn’t know birds liked baseball,” Jesse said, reaching up to touch Chris’s face. “Yeah. Uh, did Kevin come over or anything?”
“I like baseball,” Chris said, amused. He put his hand on Jesse’s face, mirroring his actions. “Comfy is a good thing, right? No, he didn’t. I didn’t see him, and no one knocked or rang the bell.”
“Well, yes, but you’re an odd bird,” he said, patting Chris. Then he moved his hands and wriggled into a more upright position. “Yeah, it’s good. And so’s no one at the door. C’mere.” Jesse pulled him close and kissed him, humming approval as Chris’s lips parted and he kissed back.
Chris put aside all thoughts of oddness, birds, baseball, and ex-boyfriends as Jesse’s hands got into his hair, as Jesse’s mouth moved against his own.
“I like kissing,” Chris said, when Jesse let him go to adjust his position again. “Can we— Mm.” He slipped his tongue past Jesse’s lips, opening his eyes as Jesse picked lifted a hand and set it on Chris’s leg. “Hm?”
“Wanna touch,” Jesse said, putting his hands on the top button of Chris’s shirt. “Can I?”
“Yes,” Chris said, nodding enthusiastically, “please!”
Jesse kissed the edge of his jaw as he worked the first button free. “You can touch me, if you want.”
“Okay,” Chris said and began patting his way up Jesse’s leg. He found Jesse’s shirt and buttons, his own fingers making short work of them. “Before, you touched me… here?” His hands settled over Jesse’s chest, all warm curves and soft fabric over skin he wanted to see, wanted to feel. There was something else, small rounded irregularities, and he smoothed his palms over them.
“Mm, yeah, that’s good,” Jesse said, tugging at the hem of Chris’s undershirt. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” Chris said, as Jesse’s hands slid up under fabric and then fingertips closed on him, pinching. The sensation was far from painful. “Yes, that.”
“Sounds silly, but I like that you like it,” he said, bending forward so he could kiss Chris again. More than that, however, he loved hearing the sounds Chris made; couldn’t wait to discover what else Chris liked.
Chris was just pulling Jesse’s shirt free of his pants when the phone rang.
“Dammit,” Jesse sighed and gave Chris a quick kiss. “Might be Mom.”
“Right,” Chris said, and let him go, watching as Jesse picked up the handset from the coffee table.
“Swanson residence,” Jesse said.
“Hi, Jesse,” Kevin said.
“Hi. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yeah, there is. Go out with me tonight?”
“No. That’s not— Look, you and I both know that it’s over and done, okay? It didn’t work out. I’m not going out with you, not tonight, not tomorrow, not again.”
“Come on, Jesse, let’s give it another try. Please? I’ll be better about things. I’ll be good. You’ll love me. I’ll let you hold my hand and everything.”
“No. Find someone else.”
Chris shifted on the couch, distracted from the replay of an unassisted double play. Why was Kevin calling Jesse?
“I don’t want someone else, I want you.”
“I don’t care. Stop calling me.” Jesse hung up and put the phone on the cushion beside him, then looked at Chris.
“That was Kevin?”
“Yeah, that’s the third time today,” Jesse grumbled, trying to remember that more pleasant things were to be had. “He wants to get back together again.”
“Oh.” That was a bad thing, wasn’t it? Chris didn’t like the idea, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. He also wasn’t sure if boyfriends was a one-at-a-time thing, like mates, or if it was different entirely.
“Chris….” Jesse slipped off the couch and knelt before him, his hands on Chris’s knees. “Christopher, this is really important, okay? I don’t tell people. When I say I love you, it’s not something—” He huffed, then started over. “I never told Kevin that I loved him. I never really felt, I don’t know, I never felt like I do when it comes to me and you, which sounds kind of dumb, but anyway. That’s part of why I broke up with him, too, because I didn’t think—I mean, after a little over a year, you’d think I would love him, and I didn’t.”
Well, that was interesting. Chris looked up from Jesse’s hands. “So you will not get back together with him?”
“No, and especially not after he hit you. I can forgive him for the fight I started, but not that.” Jesse patted Chris, then stretched up to kiss him again. He slid his hands over the tops of Chris’s thighs, then straight up under his shirt to his nipples, which he pinched once more.
After a minute or so, Chris turned his head a little. “Jesse? Can I touch you again?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry,” Jesse said, getting to his feet. He knelt astride Chris’s lap, catching Chris’s chin and kissing him a little more insistently.
There was something about the way Jesse felt, sitting on him as he was, that reminded him of Saturday night. Chris couldn’t really figure out what it was, and he was too busy getting Jesse’s shirt up so he could finally see what he was touching besides. Not that he could see, not with Jesse kissing him, sucking on his lower lip and gently biting.
“Jesse….”
“What, too hard?” He leaned back and touched Chris’s bottom lip.
“No, it was just strange.” Chris went to lick his lips and ran into Jesse’s finger; Jesse moved it up a little. Without even really thinking about it, Chris tipped his head and sucked it into his mouth.
“Oh my God,” Jesse breathed, closing his eyes. “Uh, Chris?”
“Hm?” Jesse’s finger was dry at first, salty and with a faint hint of soap. It wasn’t terribly appetizing, but the way Jesse was reacting was intriguing. He’d gone very still, his mouth open and breath short.
“We gotta move. Upstairs would be good.” He hoped he could make it upstairs. Probably, as long as Chris followed him. “Okay?”
He moved his head, letting Jesse’s finger slip out of his mouth, not really interested in going anywhere. “What’s upstairs?”
“Bed,” Jesse said, getting up. He held his hands out to Chris. “More comfortable and roomier than the couch.”
“Okay,” he said, letting Jesse help pull him upright. Sometimes they napped, but that was normally on Saturday afternoons. “Are you tired?”
“Not in the least,” Jesse said, holding Chris’s right hand and pulling him toward the stairs. “No, uh, I want to get naked with you and it’s not a good idea to do it in the living room. If you want to, I mean.”
“Oh.” Jesse wanted to get naked. With him. He had no idea what that really meant, but the little voice inside him approved wholeheartedly. “Then we must go upstairs. Now.”
She smiled and closed her eyes. “You’ve mentioned it a few times.”
“He’s my boy,” Desmond said, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. “You told me it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. That he was my son.”
“Has he forgiven you?” Leanna returned the embrace. “You’re perfectly imperfect, like the rest of us.”
“I think so,” he said with a sigh. “Maybe. Maybe I don’t want to be imperfect. I was supposed to raise him right.”
“He hurts when the people he loves hurt,” she said, holding him a little tighter. “Along with the million other good things. I think we did all right.”
“You think so? God, I hope we did.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harumoya
sushi + izakaya
Chris looked up at the sign over the doors. “Sushi. You’re sure I will like it?”
“Yep,” Jesse said, holding the door for him. “I would be really surprised if you didn’t.”
He went through to the second set of doors, distracted by the scents filtering out to him. “Where does sushi come from?” Chris said, as he opened the inner door for Jesse.
“Japan, and mostly from the ocean.” Jesse ducked his head as he passed. “They have other stuff, too.”
“Japan. That’s where video games come from.” Chris inhaled, looking around the little arrival area, taking in the giant aquarium, the long counter with glass panels at the back of it, and the woman in a fancy robe who was looking at them. The air carried the scent of fish, of frying, of spices and other things that he had no name for. Every single one made his little voice burble happily about food, though.
“A lot of them, yeah,” Jesse said. He smiled at the woman and held up two fingers. “Hi. Just two, tonight.”
“Sure,” the woman said. “Would you like to sit at the counter or a table?”
“A table, please,” he said, and they followed her through the restaurant.
“Tonight’s special is nigirizushi with salmon roe and the yolk of a quail egg,” she said as she handed over the menus. “California rolls, too, both half-price. Want something to drink to start?”
“Salmon roe?” Chris said, glancing at Jesse.
He leaned over and murmured, “Fish eggs.”
“Oh!” Chris nodded at the woman, the same little warmth swelling inside him as he realized that Jesse had chosen this place for him, had brought him to another source of good food. “I’d like the special with the quail egg, please.”
“Okay,” she said, writing it down. “How many?”
“I can have more than one?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyebrows quirking as she looked at him.
“They’re not very big,” Jesse said, making not quite a complete circle with his thumb and forefinger.
Chris nodded at him, then looked up at the woman again. “Um, three? Please?”
“Sure,” she said. “And anything to start for you, sir?”
Jesse shook his head. “Um, two Cokes, please. And I need a minute to make up my mind,” he said, holding up the menu.
“Sure. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She nodded and walked off.
“Okay, so, when you order sushi, you order it by the piece,” Jesse said, opening Chris’s menu to the pictures in the middle. “Or you can order an assortment that gets you two pieces of four or five or more kinds, or you can ask for whatever the chef wants to make and take your chances. This is what they’ve got, here. Anything with a star by it is, uh, raw.”
“Really?” Chris’s eyes went wide as he looked over the selection. Yes, he’d chosen very well in Jesse. “And I can ask for as many as I want?”
“Basically. You can’t order everything they have, though, because other people want some too.”
“Sharing is good,” Chris said, nodding at the mild admonition. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s sea urchin eggs.” Jesse didn’t care for it, but he knew Chris liked all sorts of odd food combinations.
“And this?”
“Grilled eel.”
“Eel! Like the fish at the aquarium with the teeth?” Chris frowned at the idea.
“Kind of. This is a different kind of eel.”
“Oh. What should I get?” It was more a request for a starting place than anything. Everything looked—smelled—so very good.
“Whatever sounds good,” Jesse said. “This one is egg and rice, this one is a shrimp, and they’ve got things with more than one ingredient down here too.”
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?” He opened his eyes, not bothering to make them focus on the black-on-black shape that was the back of Chris’s head before closing them again. Lying in bed with Chris still felt almost illicit, despite knowing that they had tacit permission.
“Dinner was really very good. I think I could eat there always.” Chris licked his lips in memory.
Jesse laughed. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I did. Very much.” Chris was quiet for a minute. “I like you.”
“Aw. And I like you too.”
“You said you love me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I don’t know about love. I want to feed you and give you things and show you that I am strong and trust… trust… trustable, and that those are important things to do, for me. Is that love, like when you say it?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask,” Jesse said, rubbing his hand over the center of Chris’s chest. “The thing is, love is one of those things no one can explain, not like why the sky is blue or where sushi comes from. Maybe that is love, for you. Me, I want to feed you, too, but I want to just… hang out with you and talk to you and show you stuff and discover cool things with you and listen to you talk to ravens and… and all kind of things.”
“Oh. Good,” Chris said, turning over so they were face-to-face.
“Awesome,” Jesse said, then covered a yawn. “Sorry. Um….”
“It’s time to sleep. Rest well.”
“G’night; you too.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Call for Swanson line three—er, sorry, Jesse Swanson, line three.”
That was strange; his parents usually called his cell, and if Chris needed something he just walked over and said so. Jesse turned around and took the call.
“Thank you for calling Meyer’s Market, this is Jesse. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I’ve missed you,” Kevin said.
“I’m sorry, why are you calling me here? I’m busy.”
“Because I miss you. Don’t you miss me?”
Jesse shook his head. “No, Kevin, I don’t. Look, I’m on the clock. I have to go. Bye.” And he hung up.
Ten minutes later, he was ringing up Mrs. O’Malley when the PA system pinged overhead.
“Call for Jesse Swanson, line three. Call holding line three for Jesse.”
“You’re a popular young man, today,” she said.
Jesse pasted on a smile and nodded. “It seems like I am. Do you have any coupons, ma’am?”
“Oh yes, I do. One for the soap and one for the spinach. I like that young man, Christopher? In the produce section. He’s wonderfully polite.”
He took the slips of newsprint and scanned them, a real smile crossing his face. “That’s nice to hear, thank you. I’ll be sure to tell Chris you said so.” He pressed the enter key a couple of times. “All right, that comes to twenty-seven fifty-nine.”
Once Mrs. O’Malley had taken her groceries, he picked up the phone and pressed the button next to the note that said Line 3. “Thank you for calling Meyer’s Market, this is Jesse. How can I help you?”
“Are you busy now?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m at work. Do you need something?”
“I just needed to hear your voice and tell you that I miss you. That I think we should get back together.”
“Okay, well, that’s not going to happen and I’ve got to get back to work.” Jesse hung up without further ceremony.
Jesse checked the screen of his phone, despite the fact that it was playing the Mom and Dad ringtone. It was indeed his home number, so he answered it. “Hey, Chris.”
“Hi. Um. Kevin was standing outside the store when I went home. He asked me where you were. I said you were inside, but I didn’t say anything else.”
Jesse blinked and put what was left of his cookie back in the bag with its brethren. “Uh, that’s bizarre. Did he try to hit you again or anything?”
“No, he was just standing there. I looked to see if he was following me, but he wasn’t.”
“This is getting creepier,” Jesse said. “Thanks for telling me. If he comes over to the house, pretend you’re not home and don’t let him in, okay?”
“Okay. Does he have a key?” Chris put his hand in his pocket and closed it around the set of keys he carried.
“No, thank God. I never gave him one.” He sighed and checked his watch. “I gotta let you go, ’cause I’ve gotta get back out front. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay. Have a good afternoon.”
“I’ll try. You too.”
“I’m home,” Jesse called, kicking off his shoes.
“In here,” Chris said, from the living room. “Baseball is on.”
“Yeah? Who’s playing?” Jesse wandered in and plunked down beside Chris, then flopped over into his lap. “You’re comfy.”
“Birds,” Chris said, tilting his head and looking down at him. “Blue jays and orioles. I am?”
“I didn’t know birds liked baseball,” Jesse said, reaching up to touch Chris’s face. “Yeah. Uh, did Kevin come over or anything?”
“I like baseball,” Chris said, amused. He put his hand on Jesse’s face, mirroring his actions. “Comfy is a good thing, right? No, he didn’t. I didn’t see him, and no one knocked or rang the bell.”
“Well, yes, but you’re an odd bird,” he said, patting Chris. Then he moved his hands and wriggled into a more upright position. “Yeah, it’s good. And so’s no one at the door. C’mere.” Jesse pulled him close and kissed him, humming approval as Chris’s lips parted and he kissed back.
Chris put aside all thoughts of oddness, birds, baseball, and ex-boyfriends as Jesse’s hands got into his hair, as Jesse’s mouth moved against his own.
“I like kissing,” Chris said, when Jesse let him go to adjust his position again. “Can we— Mm.” He slipped his tongue past Jesse’s lips, opening his eyes as Jesse picked lifted a hand and set it on Chris’s leg. “Hm?”
“Wanna touch,” Jesse said, putting his hands on the top button of Chris’s shirt. “Can I?”
“Yes,” Chris said, nodding enthusiastically, “please!”
Jesse kissed the edge of his jaw as he worked the first button free. “You can touch me, if you want.”
“Okay,” Chris said and began patting his way up Jesse’s leg. He found Jesse’s shirt and buttons, his own fingers making short work of them. “Before, you touched me… here?” His hands settled over Jesse’s chest, all warm curves and soft fabric over skin he wanted to see, wanted to feel. There was something else, small rounded irregularities, and he smoothed his palms over them.
“Mm, yeah, that’s good,” Jesse said, tugging at the hem of Chris’s undershirt. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh,” Chris said, as Jesse’s hands slid up under fabric and then fingertips closed on him, pinching. The sensation was far from painful. “Yes, that.”
“Sounds silly, but I like that you like it,” he said, bending forward so he could kiss Chris again. More than that, however, he loved hearing the sounds Chris made; couldn’t wait to discover what else Chris liked.
Chris was just pulling Jesse’s shirt free of his pants when the phone rang.
“Dammit,” Jesse sighed and gave Chris a quick kiss. “Might be Mom.”
“Right,” Chris said, and let him go, watching as Jesse picked up the handset from the coffee table.
“Swanson residence,” Jesse said.
“Hi, Jesse,” Kevin said.
“Hi. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yeah, there is. Go out with me tonight?”
“No. That’s not— Look, you and I both know that it’s over and done, okay? It didn’t work out. I’m not going out with you, not tonight, not tomorrow, not again.”
“Come on, Jesse, let’s give it another try. Please? I’ll be better about things. I’ll be good. You’ll love me. I’ll let you hold my hand and everything.”
“No. Find someone else.”
Chris shifted on the couch, distracted from the replay of an unassisted double play. Why was Kevin calling Jesse?
“I don’t want someone else, I want you.”
“I don’t care. Stop calling me.” Jesse hung up and put the phone on the cushion beside him, then looked at Chris.
“That was Kevin?”
“Yeah, that’s the third time today,” Jesse grumbled, trying to remember that more pleasant things were to be had. “He wants to get back together again.”
“Oh.” That was a bad thing, wasn’t it? Chris didn’t like the idea, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. He also wasn’t sure if boyfriends was a one-at-a-time thing, like mates, or if it was different entirely.
“Chris….” Jesse slipped off the couch and knelt before him, his hands on Chris’s knees. “Christopher, this is really important, okay? I don’t tell people. When I say I love you, it’s not something—” He huffed, then started over. “I never told Kevin that I loved him. I never really felt, I don’t know, I never felt like I do when it comes to me and you, which sounds kind of dumb, but anyway. That’s part of why I broke up with him, too, because I didn’t think—I mean, after a little over a year, you’d think I would love him, and I didn’t.”
Well, that was interesting. Chris looked up from Jesse’s hands. “So you will not get back together with him?”
“No, and especially not after he hit you. I can forgive him for the fight I started, but not that.” Jesse patted Chris, then stretched up to kiss him again. He slid his hands over the tops of Chris’s thighs, then straight up under his shirt to his nipples, which he pinched once more.
After a minute or so, Chris turned his head a little. “Jesse? Can I touch you again?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry,” Jesse said, getting to his feet. He knelt astride Chris’s lap, catching Chris’s chin and kissing him a little more insistently.
There was something about the way Jesse felt, sitting on him as he was, that reminded him of Saturday night. Chris couldn’t really figure out what it was, and he was too busy getting Jesse’s shirt up so he could finally see what he was touching besides. Not that he could see, not with Jesse kissing him, sucking on his lower lip and gently biting.
“Jesse….”
“What, too hard?” He leaned back and touched Chris’s bottom lip.
“No, it was just strange.” Chris went to lick his lips and ran into Jesse’s finger; Jesse moved it up a little. Without even really thinking about it, Chris tipped his head and sucked it into his mouth.
“Oh my God,” Jesse breathed, closing his eyes. “Uh, Chris?”
“Hm?” Jesse’s finger was dry at first, salty and with a faint hint of soap. It wasn’t terribly appetizing, but the way Jesse was reacting was intriguing. He’d gone very still, his mouth open and breath short.
“We gotta move. Upstairs would be good.” He hoped he could make it upstairs. Probably, as long as Chris followed him. “Okay?”
He moved his head, letting Jesse’s finger slip out of his mouth, not really interested in going anywhere. “What’s upstairs?”
“Bed,” Jesse said, getting up. He held his hands out to Chris. “More comfortable and roomier than the couch.”
“Okay,” he said, letting Jesse help pull him upright. Sometimes they napped, but that was normally on Saturday afternoons. “Are you tired?”
“Not in the least,” Jesse said, holding Chris’s right hand and pulling him toward the stairs. “No, uh, I want to get naked with you and it’s not a good idea to do it in the living room. If you want to, I mean.”
“Oh.” Jesse wanted to get naked. With him. He had no idea what that really meant, but the little voice inside him approved wholeheartedly. “Then we must go upstairs. Now.”
