Chapter Fourteen
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Hey Mom. Tried to call you but you didn't pick up.
Just wanted to let you know I got back home okay. Love you.
Jet watched Zuko walk away. He wanted to get out of the car, to tell Zuko not to go, but he recognized that stubborn look on the other boy's face. Sometimes Zuko couldn't be argued with. This was one of those times, and Jet had to admit that Zuko might be right. It was going to be awkward enough, going home to see Long, even on his own. So he let Zuko go, although he didn't want to. He stood watching until the other boy had disappeared into Hahn's apartment building.
Once Zuko was gone, Jet got in the car, but he didn't start it up right away. He sat looking at the curved glass sides of the building. He'd never seen Hahn's apartment building before, but if he had tried to imagine the kind of apartment building Hahn would want to live in, his mental image would have turned out looking like that horrible thing.
He laughed once, softly. It was kind of funny. Hahn lived with Zhao. That meant that Zuko was going to be staying with Zhao, too. Jet knew the man from the days when Joseph Zhao had been the security guard at the mall back home. The two of them used to be rivals. He still remembered all those long summer days spent loitering around the foodcourt and the fountain. He had to admit, he'd been a pain as a kid. Not that he regretted it. It had been a lot of fun. He wouldn't have been able to get away with all that so easily now, since he wasn't a minor anymore. Too bad.
As he leaned back in his seat, he wondered what Zuko was doing right now. Probably Hahn had already let him in and the two were talking. Maybe Zhao was home. As far as Jet knew, Zuko hadn't given Hahn any notice. He was basically just showing up and announcing that he was going to crash. Jet tried to imagine the look on Hahn's perfectly moisturized face, and he smiled.
The smile didn't last long. Damn it. He bit his lip, hard. Why did Zuko have to go? Why did Zuko have to do any of the things he did? Jet was tired of this crap. He didn't want to be sitting here, thinking about Zuko. But he didn't want to go home right now, either. He wished there was somewhere else he could go--like Zuko, making a surprise appearance at Hahn's--but there wasn't. Not at this time of night. Besides, he'd promised he'd be back for dinner. He didn't have a choice.
"What's wrong with you?" Bee demanded.
"Nothing."
"You hardly touched your tacos."
"I'm not hungry."
She frowned at him. "You could at least pretend. I slaved over a hot stove all day, just for you!" She paused before adding. "And Princess. Even though he ditched us."
"Well, that's what he does," said Jet.
"Mmm hmm," said Bee thoughtfully. "What's wrong with you?" she asked again.
"Nothing," Jet insisted.
"Okay. But for someone who's doing fine, you sure don't act like it." Dinner had been over for fifteen minutes or so. He and Bee were sitting at the table together. Long had retreated to his bedroom, claiming that he had an essay he needed to finish. "In fact," said Bee, "you're acting like a jerk."
"I know," Jet said glumly. They hadn't cleaned off the table, yet, and he stared down at his half-eaten tacos, feeling ridiculous. Staring sadly at tacos was ridiculous. How had he sunk to such a state? "I'm an asshole."
"Yeah, maybe, but no more so than anyone else."
He laughed, grimly. "This sucks."
"Then why don't you do something about it?"
"Like what?"
She didn't answer his question. Her hand snaked out towards his plate, bearing a spoon, and she scooped up a pile of spiced meat and spooned it into her mouth. Once she was finished chewing and swallowing, she asked a question of her own. "So, what happened?"
Jet shrugged. "Lots of stuff. Ugh. I don't know what to do."
Bee stole another spoonful of ground beef, then nodded. "I do." She nodded in the direction of the bedroom where Long was presumably writing his essay. "Go talk to him."
"Right now?"
"Yes." Bee licked her spoon clean, then held it aloft, threateningly. "Or else you'll discover how a man can be killed with a spoon."
"Ha ha." Jet shook his head but got to his feet. "Okay, fine. I'm going." It felt strange, not wanting to talk to Long. He didn't like it. It had made him feel sick all through dinner. It wasn't that he'd been rude to him, or that he hadn't been happy to see him, but he'd felt--weird, and he hadn't wanted to talk much.
He wished he could go to bed, go to sleep, and not wake up until next year, but he forced himself to head for Long and Bee's bedroom instead. Before he managed to leave the room, however, Bee jumped up from her seat and surprised him with a fierce kiss on the cheek. "It'll be okay," she whispered in his ear. "Don't be so hard on yourself, stupid."
He laughed. "Sure you don't wanna run away with me and join the carnival?"
"Don't people usually run away to join the circus?"
"Yeah, but carnies are cooler."
Bee considered. "I guess."
"Anyway, I don't have any circus-worthy talents. I mean, I can stand on my head, but--"
She smacked him lightly in the head. "Quit stalling."
"Okay, okay. I'm not stalling."
Long told him to come in when he knocked on the door, so he did. Although Long did have his laptop out, it was sitting on the bed beside him rather than on his lap. "Hey, can I come sit with you?" Jet asked quietly.
Long nodded. "Okay." He picked up his laptop and gently set it down on the floor as Jet climbed into bed with him.
Long was sitting up, his back against the wall at the head of the bed, and Jet sat beside him, resting his head on Long's shoulder. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay."
"I missed you, you know."
"Missed you, too." Long ruffled Jet's hair.
With a soft laugh, Jet turned his head to bite gently at the other boy's shoulder.
"Ow," said Long, jokingly.
"Come on, that didn't hurt." Jet bit him again.
"You can't just go around biting people, you know."
"Sure I can. They like it."
"Maybe." Long patted his head. Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes, although Jet bit Long's shoulder a few more times. Long pulled his hair in retaliation, and Jet laughed again.
"Jet."
"Yeah?"
"Tell me what's wrong."
Jet scowled. "I don't want anything to be wrong."
"But it is," Long said simply.
"Yeah..." He swallowed hard, pressing his cheek against Long's arm, closing his eyes tight. "It sucks. Everything sucks. I hate all this."
"Jet, come on." Long pushed lightly on Jet's chin, making him tilt his face up. Jet opened his eyes. Long's face was serious, his dark eyes sad. Jet hated to see him look sad. "Just talk to me."
"I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do."
Long leaned down to kiss him on the lips, lightly. "It's all right, Jet. You can say what you want to me."
He kissed Long back, then drew away, his fingers pushing his hair back, more from habit than from the fact that it was actually in his face. "So much weird shit has happened. It's all this stuff with Zuko. I--we kind of fooled around on the trip."
"You did?" Long asked the question without alarm or disapproval in his voice.
"Yeah. And now everything's all--weird. He went to stay with Hahn instead of coming back here. I'm supposed to be his friend. It's messed up. I didn't mean for anything like that to happen."
"I know, Jet."
"I guess he's gonna come back to get some of his stuff, or something. I don't even know." With a low moan of frustration, Jet moved, rolling over until he lay on his side, loosely curled, his legs and knees bent. A moment later, Long came to lay behind him, sliding his arms around Jet's waist.
"I said it was all right," Long said, his voice low, his breath warm against the back of Jet's neck.
"I know." Long was so good to him. He always had been. "Baby, I'm so sad."
Long gave Jet's waist a squeeze as he kissed the back of Jet's head. "What can I do?"
"You don't have to do anything."
"I would, if it would help you feel better."
Jet stroked the skin on the back of Long's hand: soft and warm and delicate. He ran his fingertips over Long's knuckles, tracing the narrow course of the bones in his hand back towards his wrist. "I'm so tired of this. I want to be with you, that's all. I wish he'd left me alone. Everything was going so well, for once."
"I want to be with you, too."
"But I don't want to do this to you, Long. It isn't fair. Maybe I shouldn't be with anyone right now."
"Jet." Long's voice was firm.
"Yeah?"
"You don't have to punish yourself. You haven't done anything wrong."
"I'm still in love with him."
"Yes," said Long simply. Of course, he already knew that. Everyone did. Well, nearly everyone. It was so stupid of him. He hated the way he held onto things, even when he wanted to let them go. It was as if his grip was too tight even for him to release it.
"He said that he loved me."
"I see," said Long, in the same carefully measured tone he'd used when Jet had told him that Zuko wanted to date him.
Jet could hear it in Long's voice--he was upset, even though he was trying not to be. There were drawbacks to knowing someone else so well. They couldn't hide things from you, for good or ill. He couldn't bear the thought of Long in pain, but he didn't know how to stop it. He felt he should say something, so he opened his mouth. Words started to pour out of it. "What am I supposed to do about that?" he asked. "What does he expect me to do? Things are so fucked up between us. I don't know how it could work out. How could I be with him again? It would be such a huge mistake. I don't want to do that again. It would fucking kill me." He realized he was rambling and forced his mouth shut. God, what was he doing? What was happening to him? He felt his eyes sting, but he took in a deep breath and the stinging faded.
Once he had stopped talking, Long began. "If you don't want to be with me--"
Jet couldn't let him continue. He rolled over to face him. Long moved to accommodate this shift, but kept his arms around Jet. "But I do want to be with you! But I don't want to put anyone else through this. Not again. Not you, especially." Long was close to him. He smiled hopefully at the other boy, as if somehow this would work itself out.
Long returned his smile.
"Fuck," said Jet, his own smile faltering. "I don't know what to do."
"I don't either," Long confessed.
Long's face was so close to his, and suddenly Jet wanted to kiss him, so he did. Long kissed him back without hesitation. A moment later, their bodies met, pressing together as both of them deepened the kiss. Long's hand slid over his side, stroking his hip and thigh through his clothes. Jet's hand settled on Long's neck. The skin there was so soft, softer than the skin on the back of his hand. There was a desperation in the way they touched. Jet could feel it.
"We shouldn't." He licked at Long's lips, tenderly, then pulled away. "I don't want it to be like this with you." He did want Long, very badly, but he didn't want to do anything that would make him feel worse. They both felt bad enough already.
Long sighed, then reached up to touch Jet's face. He didn't try to kiss him again. "What do you want, Jet? Just tell me."
"I don't know," he said again, honestly. "But I should figure it out, I guess. Right? So I just want--time to figure it out. Maybe. Does that make sense?" He hoped that it did. But it was a painful kind of sense, regardless.
Long's fingertips traced the line of Jet's jaw, and Jet could feel his eyelids grow heavy. "It makes sense to me, Jet." He drew a breath, then added, "I already know what I want."
"I know. You've always been smarter than me." Jet laughed ruefully. "Maybe someday I'll catch up."
Long shook his head. "You're fine the way you are," he insisted. "Jet. Are you sure about this?"
"I'm not sure about all that much right now." He leaned forward to kiss Long again, but this time his lips brushed the tip of Long's nose. "But I love you," he said.
Long grasped his hand and squeezed it tight.
Jet held the phone up to his face and listened to it ring.
Zuko picked up before his voicemail did. "Hello?" Although his caller ID would have told him who was calling, he sounded surprised anyway.
"Yeah, hi, it's me," Jet said.
"Ha ha, I know."
"I just wanted to call and check up on you, make sure everything went okay," said Jet. He was lying on his back, on his bed, which had been the case for about an hour now. Fortunately, he'd brought his phone with him, so he didn't have to get up to make a call.
"Oh, everything's fine," said Zuko vaguely.
How did he manage to make things awkward between him and everyone he knew? He really was going to run away and join a carnival or circus or something. It would probably be better that way for everyone involved. "So what did Hahn say?"
Zuko laughed, softly, and Jet couldn't keep himself from thrilling at the sound. "He was a little surprised when I showed up. And he wasn't very happy at first, but I think he'd gotten used to the idea by the time I was done talking. But then Zhao...I mean, Joseph...came home. So I guess he's distracted now."
Jet was pretty sure he knew what that meant. He laughed. He didn't think he would care to be around while Hahn and Zhao were doing it. "I guess it's good I can distract you, then. That's got to be weird."
"Yeah." Zuko paused, as if he was listening to something else for a moment. "It's definitely weird."
"You need to get some earplugs or something."
"Oh, I have some. I got them for the plane, remember?"
"But are they industrial strength?"
"No." Zuko chuckled. "I don't think so."
Jet liked talking to Zuko about normal things. It made him feel at least a little better. He could forget all the crap in his life for a while. Which was something he really needed to do. "I'll have to get you some, then."
"I guess. It's...they're pretty loud." Zuko laughed. "Anyway, how's everything with you?" he asked, as if they hadn't seen each other a mere few hours ago. "How are Bee and Long?"
Jet closed his eyes. He felt sick. "Fine." It wasn't as if he didn't want to tell Zuko what had happened, but he didn't want to do it on the phone. And he wasn't ready to talk about it yet, not to anyone. It had just happened. "Everyone's okay. Same as always, you know?" He could still picture the look on Long's face. Long had never broken up with anyone before. Bee was the only other person he'd dated. And Jet had done that to him.
"That's good," Zuko said.
"So--hey, do you want to hang out sometime tomorrow or something?"
Zuko hesitated. "Sure, if you want to. I know you might have had enough of me on the trip and everything--"
"Don't be stupid," said Jet, interrupting him. He'd have punched Zuko in the arm if the other boy had actually been there.
"Well, you know that's difficult for me sometimes." Zuko kept his tone light, but Jet could tell that things were still weird, that Zuko was still unhappy. Jet wished he could make at least one person happy.
"Yeah, I know it is," Jet laughed. "Look, I do want to see you. But I have to do some things tomorrow. How about I call you in the afternoon and we can figure something out then?"
"That sounds good to me." In spite of the strain in his voice, Zuko sounded at least a little happy at the prospect.
"Okay, I'll call you, then." They talked for a few more minutes. Jet teased Zuko about his new roommates, and he made Zuko laugh a few more times. Then they said goodbye, and he hung up. He put the phone down on the table by his bedside, then sighed up at the ceiling.
It was weird, being alone in his room like this. He'd spent the past couple days in Zuko's company around the clock. He'd kind of gotten used to it. Even before that, he'd had Zuko--and Long--sleeping in his room. Now he was by himself. It wasn't exactly that he was in the mood for company, considering the state he was in, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have someone to curl up next to. Someone to kiss. Someone to make him feel better.
He remembered Zuko's mouth on his. Zuko was so hot. All his secret kung fu exercises had definitely paid off--he had a great body, lean but muscular. Jet had never forgotten how hot Zuko was, although he'd tried to force himself not to think of Zuko that way after they'd broken up. It had been too painful to regard him that way, when he couldn't have him. Things were different now. It had been so difficult for him to hold back when sleeping in the same bed as the other boy. Every time he was around Zuko, he wanted to run his hands over Zuko's body, kiss his skin. He'd been thinking about it almost all the time since they'd kissed in the street that day. It was driving him crazy.
Jet felt himself growing warm. He was already hard, just from talking to Zuko for a few minutes. He wanted him so much. "Fuck," he said softly, his hands moving to unbutton his fly. He pushed his jeans and underwear down over his hips, then brought his fingers up to his lips and sucked on them. Once they were wet, he reached down to wrap his fingers around his cock and started to stroke himself. He arched his back a little, breathing out. He pictured Zuko's body, naked on the hotel bed. The way the other boy's breath quickened, the way he blushed--it turned Jet on. His cock grew harder in his hands.
He imagined pressing Zuko down against the bed--with the lights turned on--and making the other boy moan. Zuko was always so quiet when they did anything, like he was holding everything in. That made it even hotter when he could get Zuko to make a noise of any kind. In his mind, Zuko whispered, "Please," asking for it as he spread his legs. He looked so amazing like that, his pale body flushed all over. Jet wanted to bite at his neck, make him moan louder, ask for more. Jet stroked himself faster, tightening his grip.
He didn't want to wait. He didn't want to make it last. He just wanted to get off. He remembered how it had felt--that first time--pressing his hips forward, Zuko's ass so tight around his cock, Zuko's hands on his back as Jet fucked him.
Jet came hard, his hips bucking. "Fuck!" he hissed again, softly.
He stayed where he was for a little while, his pants still halfway down and the come drying on his skin. He was still thinking about Zuko. But now he imagined resting his hand on Zuko's face, smiling into the other boy's eyes. He wished things could be like they were before, somehow. The first time. He didn't want to feel sick. He didn't want to feel that fear--that Zuko was just going to change his mind again, was going to treat him as disposable again. Even if it wasn't logical, that feeling was so hard to shake.
He sat up. There was a box of tissues next to the table where he'd put his phone, and he pulled out a few to wipe himself off with. Once he was done, he pulled his pants up again. Suddenly, he felt so tired, even moreso than he had before. He almost picked up the phone to call Zuko again. But no, he couldn't do that. He'd probably get pissed, or else he'd say something stupid. Or both. Their conversation had actually been okay. He didn't want to risk fucking up a second one.
Anyway, he was too tired. He had work in the morning. Work--it felt like it had been forever since he'd actually gone to work and classes like a normal person. Maybe it would be a nice change. I hope so, he thought as he changed into his pajamas, set his alarm, and then slipped beneath the covers. I could use one of those.
It was actually kind of nice, sitting in the little booth in the student center, getting keys and equipment for the people who needed them--not a lot of people, as was usual for the morning shift. He spent most of the time talking to the people he knew who passed by. On his breaks, he went outside to smoke, leaning against the building's brick wall. All the progress he'd made in trying to quit was probably going to be lost, but he didn't care. He was stressed, and it helped him feel better. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste of the smoke.
"Jet."
"Yeah?" He recognized the voice, but nonetheless, he opened his eyes to see Kuruk standing in front of him.
"What's up?" Kuruk asked.
"I'm working."
"Looks like you're working pretty hard, I'd say."
"I am, you're right."
Kuruk looked at the cigarette between Jet's fingers and smiled. "I thought you were trying to quit."
"Fuck you, Kuruk," said Jet, without any real malice. That was the way he and Kuruk talked to each other.
"Trouble at home?"
Jet wasn't completely done with his cigarette, but he dropped it and ground it down into the pavement beneath his heel. "I've got to get back inside."
"Are you going to fags and hags later?"
There was a meeting of the Gay Student Union scheduled for that afternoon. "Kuruk," said Jet, "you do know that's never going to be funny, right?"
"I know," Kuruk said. "But I like to make you smile."
Jet realized that he had, in fact, started smiling, and he turned his smile quickly and vindictively into a frown. "Bye, Kuruk."
Kuruk waved. "I'll see you at the meeting, then."
"Great," said Jet, under his breath, as he walked away. "Something to look forward to."
The president wasn't able to make it to the meeting that day, so Jet was filling in for her. Making him, he thought--as he recalled the remark he'd made to his extended family--the gayest person in the whole school, for the moment. Quite an accomplishment. He smiled to himself at the thought. He could put it on his resume. And he probably would.
Kuruk, as promised, showed up--even before the meeting began, and slid into the seat beside Jet before anyone else could take it. "Hey baby," he said brightly, making some eyebrows rise around the room.
"Why are you so friendly today?" Jet asked, scowling at Kuruk so no one got the wrong idea.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I missed you." He paused, artfully. "I heard you were out of town this week. I wanted to see how everything was going."
"Oh, so you're just nosy."
Kuruk didn't pay this remark any mind. As if he hadn't heard it, he gazed across the room. "Look," he said to Jet in a stage whisper. "We've got admirers."
Jet looked, as instructed. Kuruk was referring to two boys their own age who were sitting by the window. The taller, darker boy had his arm around the smaller, paler one. Both of them were wearing displeased expressions as they regarded Jet and Kuruk. Jet leaned in towards Kuruk. "Leave Chan and Ruon-Jian alone," he whispered.
Kuruk laughed. "Do I have to?"
"They can't help the way they are."
"They know we're talking about them," Kuruk pointed out--not as if he thought this was a bad thing.
Jet waved and smiled at dark-haired Chan and the elaborately coifed Ruon-Jian. He didn't even know how someone managed to get that much gel in their hair. Chan and Ruon-Jian had some idea in their heads about being the hottest gay couple on campus--at least, that was what Jet thought their idea was. It was kind of hard to tell, owing to the fact that he had never actually gone so far as to communicate openly with Chan and Ruon-Jian about it. Regardless, when Jet and Kuruk had been dating, Chan and Ruon-Jian had acted like they were rival couples. Or something...
Kuruk seemed to have a much better idea of what it was all about, and he enjoyed holding up their end of the rivalry, if only as a joke. "Come on, give me a kiss," he whispered in Jet's ear. "They'll like that."
Chan and Ruon-Jian had not responded to Jet's smile or wave, and Jet supposed they were worried he and Kuruk were going to get back together again. So he pushed Kuruk away. At that, they did smile. Good. I can still make someone happy.
"What the hell?" Kuruk recovered from the push, then pushed Jet back, lightly, laughing. "Why are you so violent today?"
"I'm taking my frustrations out on you."
"Oh, I see." Kuruk grinned. "I didn't know you were into that, baby. Well, go ahead."
Jet was about to say something sarcastic, but at that moment a few more club members came in through the door, announcing their arrival with loud laughter, and Jet was saved from further conversation by the need to start the meeting. He enjoyed being in charge. However, distracted and a bit out of it as he was, he wasn't in the frame of mind to be a very good moderator, so he didn't exactly get a lot of business done. No one seemed to mind, though. There weren't any big events coming up soon, so they could afford to relax.
After the meeting, everyone who'd showed up continued to mill around in the meeting room--there wasn't another club scheduled to be meeting there for an hour. Kuruk, who hadn't come to one of the meetings in a while, was catching up with some of the--hot, unsurprisingly--males in the club who he hadn't talked to in some time.
"How's it going, Jet?"
Ruon-Jian had snuck up behind him. Chan, of course, wasn't far away. "Yeah, hi." He didn't dislike the two, but he didn't exactly like them, either. They were okay. They could be kind of funny.
"So," Ruon-Jian asked casually, toying with his hair and not succeeding in fooling anyone, "are you and Kuruk, like, getting back together?"
"No, we're not," said Kuruk. Though semingly lost in conversation, he had, as always, been paying attention. "Didn't you hear? Jet's got a hot new boyfriend now. Don't you, Jet?"
Ruon-Jian looked dismayed at this. Jet was sure he didn't look much happier himself. This was the last conversation he wanted to have right now. "Shut up, Kuruk."
"He just doesn't want to talk about it," Kuruk explained.
"Come on, Kuruk, let's go," Jet commanded.
Kuruk did his best to look contrite. The expression wasn't very convincing on him. "Okay, baby, if you say so."
"I don't know," Jet heard Chan's low voice as he left the room with Kuruk in tow. "They act like they're dating."
Once they were far away enough from the meeting room that Jet judged they couldn't be heard by anyone inside, he turned to his ex, angrily. "Kuruk, can't you leave me the fuck alone?" Jet had to struggle to resist the urge to raise his voice. "What he hell's wrong with you? I don't need you following me around, okay?"
Kuruk's eyes widened, but instead of raising his voice or growing angry in return, he reached out to put a hand on Jet's shoulder. "Baby, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, Kuruk!" Jet moved as if to push him away, but didn't quite carry through, scowling down at the front of Kuruk's shirt.
"Come on, you can tell me." Kuruk smiled. "It's only me, right?"
"I don't know. I just--" Jet swallowed. "It's stupid, I guess." He laughed a little. "It's not even worth talking about, it's so hilariously stupid."
"You need a hug?"
Jet glanced up, giving him a warning glare. "Kuruk--"
Kuruk's smile was surprisingly disarming. Jet wasn't used to being disarmed so easily. Sometimes he could forget how charming Kuruk was. "You just look like you could use a hug. I'm not going to try anything. Hands above the waist, I swear."
"Well--"
Kuruk wasn't very good at waiting. Before Jet could finish his sentence, Kuruk's arms were around his shoulders. "Now, tell me what's wrong," he said.
Somehow it was a little easier to speak like this, as silly as it seemed. "I broke up with Long," he said, his voice slightly muffled by Kuruk's shirt.
"Yeah? Fuck, I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have joked about it. I didn't mean it like that, you know. I guess I just have a knack for making you feel bad." One of Kuruk's hands settled near the back of Jet's neck. "I hate to see you so sad, Jet."
"It's okay. I'll be okay."
"Hey, you can be sad if you want to, though." Kuruk stroked his hair. Jet heard someone walk by, but he didn't look up to see who it was, and whoever it was, they didn't say anything. Not that it mattered.
"It's just fucked up."
"I know, baby, I know. At least you smell good, though, right?"
"Yeah, Kuruk, at least I smell good."
"You know what I mean. And you do smell good." Kuruk breathed in deeply through his nose. His hands drifted a little ways down over Jet's back.
Deciding that the hug had lasted too long, Jet did push Kuruk away, but he laughed before he realized what he was doing.
"At least I made you laugh," said Kuruk.
"Look, they're totally dating." Jet and Kuruk turned to see Ruon-Jian, who had just emerged from the meeting room to make this announcement. Chan wasn't far behind him. Jet smiled and shook his head. There really was something amusing about those two.
"No no," said Kuruk. "I can't date Jet. I'm in love with someone else."
"Yeah? Who?" Ruon-Jian asked innocently.
Kuruk didn't move away from Jet, but he gazed longingly in Ruon-Jian's direction, a sigh on his lips. "You, of course."
Ruon-Jian reddened. "Yeah, well, he's taken," said Chan, stepping forward and scowling. Jet tried not to laugh. Everyone knew Chan was the jealous type. It didn't help that Ruon-Jian was the unfaithful type.
Kuruk sighed again, wistfully. "Then I suppose our love will never be."
Chan sniffed loudly and escorted Ruon-Jian down the hall past them. Jet noticed that Ruon-Jian glanced at Kuruk as he walked by.
"He totally wants you," Jet said, once they were gone.
"I know." Kuruk smirked. "Too bad he can't have me. I'd never fuck that moron." Kuruk considered. "I'd let him him suck my dick, maybe, but that's different." He laughed about that, then quickly sobered, putting his hand on Jet's shoulder. "Hey. Do you wanna go somewhere and talk?"
"No, it's okay. I've got stuff to do." He shook his head. "I just didn't want to break up with him."
"Yeah, I know." Kuruk looked like he wanted to say something else, but for once, he seemed to think better of it.
"What?" Jet asked.
"Nothing."
"No, come on. You can say it."
Kuruk shrugged. "It's just--you probably did the right thing."
Jet shoved his hands in his pockets. Kuruk's words stung. He didn't want them to be true. But maybe they were. He just hadn't wanted to cause Long any more pain. But he'd hurt him anyway. He remembered the sight of Long's red eyes. "I don't know." He felt like he was saying that too much these days.
"Hey, I guess none of us know anything when it comes to stuff like that. Don't look at me. I lost you, didn't I?"
Kuruk's tone was light, but Jet could tell he wasn't entirely joking. "Yeah, that's true."
"However, I do have a piece of advice," Kuruk said, his tone sobering.
"What's that?"
"Since you're temporarily single, you should take this opportunity to hook up with a hot ex for some no-strings-attached sex."
"Kuruk--"
"Come on, Jet." Kuruk leaned in closer. "You know you could use a nice, hard fucking."
Jet hit him in the arm--hard.
"Hey, Zuko."
Again, Zuko's voice had had a surprised sound as he answered his phone. "Hi, Jet." He sounded pleased as well as surprised, fortunately. "I hoped you'd call."
"I said I would, didn't I?"
"Oh, I didn't mean--I just meant I hoped you'd call soon. It's good to hear from you."
"I know what you meant, don't worry." He laughed. He'd taken himself and his phone outside, and he'd found a bench to sit on while he called Zuko. It was rather chilly outside, but he didn't mind. It was a nice, crisp feeling. It woke him up. He was wearing a very thin jacket, but he'd also thought to wrap himself in a big, green scarf that Haru had knitted for him, so he wasn't too cold. "So, what do you think about hanging out tonight? Still up for it?"
"Yes. Doing something tonight would be fine."
In the background, Jet heard a second voice, then, easily identifiable as belonging to Hahn. "Is that Jet?" he asked. Hahn spoke loudly, over-enunciating every word. He was easy to hear.
Zuko must have muffled the phone with his hand, because his voice was much less distinct as he said, "Yes, Hahn, it's Jet."
"Is he coming over tonight?" Hahn was still easy enough to hear, even with the phone muffled.
"Yes, I think so," said Zuko.
"You should invite him over to dinner here," Hahn suggested, and Jet drew in breath sharply.
"Oh, I don't really know," said Zuko diplomatically. "We're still working out plans."
"I'll have the cook prepare something special," Jet heard Hahn say, as if Zuko had already said yes. "I'm sure Joseph won't mind."
"Please, Zuko," said Jet urgently. "Please, I really, really, really want to come over there for dinner." He had to admit, he'd been curious to see the inside of that place ever since dropping Zuko off last night. All those curvy glass surfaces--it was the most needlessly modern and ridiculously expensive looking monstrosity of an apartment building he'd ever seen. And the idea of having dinner with Hahn and Zhao--Joseph--was so amazingly ridiculous that he couldn't pass up this opportunity.
Zuko's voice because suddenly clear again. "Are you sure?"
"Please, I really want to have dinner with Zhao. It'll be so great. Please?"
He laughed. "Okay." His next words were obviously addressed to Hahn. "He says he'll come over."
"Excellent," Hahn said crisply.
"When should I be there?" Jet asked.
Zuko echoed this question. "When should he get here?"
"We'll have dinner at seven," Hahn said decisively. "He can arrive whenever he likes, as he is your guest."
Jet laughed. "Man, I can't wait. I hope I don't have to dress up, though," he joked. "I don't have any fancy clothes."
"I'm sure whatever you wear will be fine," Zuko said. Jet couldn't hear Hahn say anything to this, and for all he knew, Hahn had left the room. Jet would have made an effort to wear something extra awful, but he was sure Hahn would be horrified by all of his clothes, so he wasn't going to waste any time thinking about it.
"Maybe I'll wear a tie. Should I wear a tie?"
"Please don't wear a tie," said Zuko. Jet could hear the smile in his voice.
"I might."
"Well, I don't want to stop you if you really have your heart set on it."
"You'll just have to wait and see if I show up with one."
"I'll hold my breath until then," said Zuko wryly.
"I know," Jet found himself experiencing his usual desire to kiss the other boy, which was especially silly when he was talking to him on the phone. "Hey, anything else you want to do after dinner?"
Zuko had this very serious and matter-of-fact way of thinking about things so that Jet could almost hear him thinking. He thought for a brief time before replying, "I don't know. How about you?"
"I'm not sure either. We'll see how we feel, I guess." It was kind of strange to be planning appointments with Zuko like this. He'd thought that Zuko would be staying at his place for at least another couple weeks. Suddenly, he felt a little sad, remembering again how much he'd been looking forward to that. "Hey, I've got to go," he said. "I have a class. I'll get there around six-thirty, okay? Depending on the traffic."
"Sounds good, Jet."
"All right, see you then."
He hung up the phone, feeling torn. Part of him was happy to be seeing Zuko, the rest of him miserable--about everything else. Well, at least he was going to get to eat dinner with Zhao. It would be so funny to see him again in such a vastly different context. Zuko had had dinner with Hahn and Zhao many times over the years, Jet was aware, but he'd always gone over there with Mai. After all, Mai was Hahn's best friend.
Jet felt a little worse at that thought. He got to his feet. Zuko had always wanted to be with Mai. Jet remembered. He started to walk towards his class, as it was time for more politics and more arguments. It was hard for him to believe that Zuko had really forgotten all about wanting his ex-girlfriend. Zuko and Mai had known each other since they were little kids. Jet had had to hear all about it when he'd first been friends with Zuko. To the point where he'd had to tell Zuko to stop talking about her twenty-four hours a day. He'd even thought about her when he'd been with Jet.
Jet wasn't paying much attention to where he was going--he didn't even say he was sorry when he accidentally bumped into someone. He didn't look to see who it was. Just someone else he didn't know.
He kept thinking that this was another temporary breakup. Zuko would see Mai again, and his old feelings would come back. Zuko had always seemed so sure that they would be together forever. Jet had told himself the same thing. It had been easier that way. It had hurt less, because hoping that things might someday be different had been too painful for him.
He did manage to make it to Hahn's apartment by six thirty. The traffic wasn't bad at all. He hadn't had time to swing by his own apartment after finishing up everything he needed to do at school. He had a lot of coursework to make up after all those missed classes. He had to admit, he felt more than a little out of place in the high-ceilinged, mirrored lobby, but when the doorman looked askance at him as he pulled open the door to let him in, it only made Jet smile.
He strolled across that enormous space towards the concierge's desk, enjoying the loud sound of his feet against the marble floor. Halfway there, he realized that the highly polished surface would be perfect for sliding, so he slid the rest of the way across and narrowly avoided slamming in to the front of the desk. He recovered just in time, and hopped to one side with what he hoped was an intentional-looking flourish. "Jet Cai," he introduced himself. "I'm here to see Hahn Fan and Joseph Zhao." He enjoyed saying all that very much.
The concierge was a polished older woman in an immaculate dark dress. Her expression revealed nothing of what she might have thought about the convincingness of his recovery, unfortunately. "Yes, you're expected," she said calmly. "Please sign in." She opened a large, black, leather-bound book, and presented it to him along with a slim, black pen. He scribbled his name into one of the blank spaces.
The instant he had inked the last letter, the woman took the book and pen from him and said smoothly, with a wave of her manicured hand, "The elevators are there, sir. Twenty-first floor. Penthouse. I'll tell Mr. Fan you're on your way."
"Thanks!" said Jet. The elevators in question were all glass and steel. Jet raised his eyebrows at them, amused. "This should be fun," he murmured to himself.
The elevator opened onto a short corridor. There was only one door, and he knocked on it. An instant later, it opened, and Zuko stood framed in the doorway. He smiled. Jet smiled back. For a moment, Zuko looked uncertain of what to do, then he said, "Hi."
"Hi," said Jet, still smiling.
"Oh--uh, come in!" Zuko stepped aside to let him enter. "It's good to see you."
He was being a little weirdly formal, but it was cute, so Jet didn't mention it. "Yeah, good to see you, too." Seeing him again like this, he couldn't stop himself from remembering yesterday--had it only been yesterday?--in his car. I'm in love with you, Zuko had said. It wasn't that he'd ever stopped thinking about that since it had happened. But the thought was even more distracting when he was standing in front of Zuko, looking at him. Jet's chest hurt. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what to say.
"Hello, Jet." Fortunately, Hahn was there to rescue him.
Jet turned towards the other boy, smiling. "Hey, haven't seen you in a while."
Hahn nodded to this, and his lips moved in a barely perceptible smile as he stepped forward. "May I take your coat?" he asked.
"Uh--sure." He was unused to people taking his coat, but he allowed Hahn to take his--as well as his scarf. Hahn was tall, and, just as Jet always remembered him, polished to a shine. His long dark hair was styled until it hardly looked real. Jet remembered seeing the other boy around the mall before he'd actually known him. He'd thought Hahn seemed incredibly shallow. And he was, but he was also surprisingly nice, in a strange way--like a robot slowly learning how to be nice. "Thanks, Hahn."
"Joseph will be out in a few moments," Hahn informed him as he hung Jet's coat and scarf on a rack near the door. His gaze upon the articles of clothing were critical, but nonetheless, he handled them with great care. "I'm so glad you could come to dinner, Jet. Zuko has been looking forward to your arrival all evening."
Jet turned to Zuko, who was silently blushing.
Jet smiled at him. "That works out well. I've been looking forward to coming over."
"I hope you'll enjoy the meal," said Hahn. "I didn't have much notice, but I asked Zuko about what you might like, and I think my chef has done an admirable job." Hahn's expression was at once both vacant and thoughtful. Jet had to admit he was pretty good looking, although about as far from Jet's own type as it was possible to be.
"I'm sure it'll be great. I'm starving." This was something of a weird situation, he had to admit. Everyone was being so oddly polite. Well, it wasn't odd for Hahn. But both he and Zuko were acting like they had to be on their best behavior.
Hahn turned suddenly, smiling. "Joseph," he said, and for a moment, Jet felt a little envious of the way Hahn's face lit up. He looked so happy.
Jet turned to see Hahn's boyfriend. The older man must have been changing out of his work clothes. He was wearing jeans and a collarless shirt--both obviously designer, and Jet had no doubt that Hahn had bought them for him.
"Since you and Joseph already know each other, I don't need to introduce you," said Hahn, completely earnest.
Jet waved at Zhao. "Hi, how's it going?"
Zhao's answering smile was slightly wry. "I'm fine, thank you."
"It's been a while," Jet said. He could very clearly remember being taken down to Joseph Zhao's office as a thirteen-year-old, waiting for his mother to come pick him up after he'd gotten caught spraypainting anarchy signs on the sidewalk outside Macy's. On that day, as he'd sat glowering at the office's tile floor, he certainly hadn't foreseen that this evening would come to pass. It was funny, the way things worked out sometimes.
"It certainly has," was the older man's reply.
Jet finally thought to examine his surroundings. "Nice place you two have here," he said. Even though the apartment--like Hahn--wasn't to his taste, he had to admit that it was good-looking. The furnishings were all angles and smooth surfaces. The walls were either clear glass or stark white. For the first time, Jet felt a little out of place. He glanced at Zuko, only to find the other boy's gaze on him. Zuko had grown up in places--not like this, exactly, but similar to this. So had Mai, who had been over here so many times. Now Hahn and Zhao were probably wondering what the hell he was doing here. For a brief, panicked instant, he almost wanted to leave. But then he turned back to Zhao and realized that Zhao was, in his way, even more out of place than he was, in his designer clothes, with his designer hairstyle, both courtesy of Hahn. He relaxed somewhat.
"Thank you, Jet," Hahn replied. "I myself am responsible for its design, so I'm glad you appreciate it."
"He is responsible," Zhao agreed.
Jet grinned at him.
After that, dinner went fine. Hahn's chef--the fact of which was hilarious in itself--had created some kind of weird Asian fusion, nouvelle cuisine, tiny-pieces-of-food thing, consisting of weirdly-shaped plates with collections of spring rolls, sashimi, and artful bits of meat and tofu. It was actually pretty good, if unnecessarily elaborate.
Jet was surprised by how much he enjoyed talking to Zhao. "Oh, and hey," he laughed, somehow managing to speak while forcing an entire spring roll into his mouth, "remember that time I broke into Long Feng's office and covered it with syrup? And those little ant sprinkles?" He swallowed the spring roll. "I'd have used real ants, but that would have been cruelty to animals."
Joseph Zhao started to laugh.
"Yeah, that was totally unfair of him to fire me because he thought I was the one who put toothpicks and glue in the locks of all the stores."
Zhao laughed for another few moments. "Even though you did do it."
Of course Zhao knew that he'd done it. Jet didn't see any reason not to admit it, three years after the fact. "Yeah, but they had no proof."
"It was a reasonable suspicion."
"It was civil disobedience."
"Destruction of property is not civil disobedience."
"Okay, okay." Laughing, Jet held up both hands. "All right, I'll give you that. But it's fun. And it can be a valid form of protest. Nothing would ever get done if people weren't willing to break a few windows."
Zhao raised his eyebrows, glancing towards the huge windows that made up most of the exterior walls. "Should I be worried?" he asked.
"No. It's okay. I'm a little more civil than disobedient these days."
"That's good to know."
"Yes," said Hahn. "You certainly are more mature than you were in the past."
Jet glanced over at him, unoffended. "Thanks, Hahn. So are you."
Hahn's eyes widened perceptibly. He took a moment to decide what to make of this, then said carefully, "Thank you."
Jet shoved another spring roll into his mouth. "You're welcome." He glanced over at Zuko, who, he saw, was looking at him. Zuko hadn't spoken a great deal during dinner, but every time Jet had looked at the other boy, he'd found that Zuko's gaze was on him. It was a little disconcerting, but not unpleasant. Actually, it was nice. Zuko seemed happy to be with him, even if he was a bit awkward. And being with him like this, eating dinner with another couple--it made him feel a little like they were together. The thought instantly made him feel guilty. He'd just broken up with Long yesterday. He frowned at the thought and looked down at his oddly-shaped plate. It was still covered with small pieces of artful food, but suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. Nonetheless, he smiled at Zuko, who was looking at him so hopefully, and made himself take another bite.
After dinner, he and Zuko still couldn't think of anything else to do. So they remained engaged in conversation with Hahn and Zhao, both of them seated on Hahn's couch: a long, pointy thing which Jet wasn't quite sure was comfortable, although it wasn't exactly uncomfortable. Zhao was seated in an armchair, and Hahn was sitting on--well, Jet wasn't exactly sure what that piece of furniture would be called.
"Perhaps you should show Jet your room, Zuko," Hahn suggested at last. When Jet turned to look at him, Hahn's face was perfectly blank. It was unclear to Jet whether the boy was trying to set them up in some fashion or if he was trying to get rid of them. Either might have been true; judging by the way Hahn had been gazing at Zhao for the past half hour, he did want to be alone with him. Jet had no desire to stand in his way.
"Uh, sure," said Zuko. He didn't seem particularly fazed by the suddenness of the question. Maybe he was used to Hahn's abruptness.
"Yeah, show me your room," said Jet. "I want to see what you've upgraded to."
Zuko flushed, but nonetheless got to his feet. "It's not an upgrade."
Hahn smiled placidly. "Of course not."
"Zuko's room," as Hahn had referred to it, turned out to be a large, open--space, as pale and glassy as the rest of the apartment--house, really, as it was big enough to fit Jet's apartment inside it several times over and then some. Even this bedroom could have fit a couple copies of his apartment. Also, he had never seen a bedroom with marble floors before. "Wow," Jet said. "Hahn is even richer than I thought. Is his dad a king or something?"
Zuko, laughed, softly. Jet felt like keeping his voice down, too. He was afraid of causing an echo. "No," Zuko said. "I think he owns some international company? Hahn doesn't talk about it a lot. I mean, he does talk a lot about the research and development department, but that's all."
"Yeah, Hahn is big into research, I guess." Jet walked across the room, exploring as he went. Not that there was a great deal to explore. There wasn't a lot of furniture. He saw Zuko's guitar and his grandfather's Go board in one corner. The walls were bare. On one side of the enormous space there was a low couch that sat facing an elaborate entertainment system. The other side of the room was dominated by an enormous bed covered in perfectly white bedding. Jet didn't think things over very well before heading over to the bed and throwing himself onto it. "This bed is ginormous! It's got to be at least six times as big as my bed. You actually slept in it?"
"Uh, yeah." Zuko had silently approached and stood at the foot of the bed now, watching him. "It was all right."
Jet realized his mistake in heading for the bed, too late. It was unexpectedly weird, right now, to be lying down in bed gazing up at Zuko. "Well, it seems nice," he said, although it sounded like a very stupid thing to say.
"Yeah," said Zuko. He kept standing there, looking down at Jet.
"You can sit, you know," Jet said at last.
"Okay." Zuko sat obediently on the edge of the bed, but his body was stiff, and he looked uncomfortable as he turned to look at Jet from this new position.
Jet frowned. "Hey, Zuko," he said.
"Yeah, Jet?"
Jet turned away. "Nothing." He sighed. "This is so stupid."
Zuko was silent, but when Jet said nothing else, he asked slowly, "What's stupid?"
Jet put his hand up to his forehead. His head felt hot, but his hand felt cold. "You know what I'm talking about."
"I'm sorry--"
"No." Jet interrupted him. "Don't apologize anymore, okay?"
"Okay."
"But you can say anything else you want. Don't worry about it."
Zuko didn't seem too sure about that, but nonetheless he said, "All right."
Jet sighed again. He closed his eyes. The room was quiet, but he could hear Zuko breathing.
"Jet? Are you all right?"
"No, not really."
"What's wrong?"
Jet didn't open his eyes. When he said the next words, it didn't even feel like he was really saying them. It didn't feel like he was in the room at all. "I broke up with Long last night. And now I feel sick." He moved his hand down, resting it on his chest. "Really sick."
"Oh. I...I'm sorry, Jet," said Zuko. Then he was quiet for a moment, possibly considering what he'd just said. "I didn't mean to apologize again. That's not what I meant." Jet felt the mattress shift beneath him as Zuko moved closer. "Can I do anything?"
Jet laughed. "Can you make me disappear? Cause that would help."
"No, I'm not much of a magician, unfortunately," said Zuko gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I don't want to talk about it," said Jet. He pressed his hand down on his chest. It ached a little. "Come lie down with me."
"Okay," said Zuko, after a moment's hesitation. The mattress didn't creak as Zuko lay down. It moved a little, that was all. It was a very high-quality mattress. Zuko was so close to him that Jet could feel the warmth of the other boy's body, but they lay together without actually touching.
"You know, I'm kind of a fuckup, Zuko," Jet said.
"That isn't true."
"It is. I get this--thing, I don't even know what it is. I just get so out of it and sick, and I feel like--I don't know, like I can't take it anymore, or--" He couldn't finish. "God, that doesn't make any sense. Never mind. I'm just crazy. My mom's probably right. I should be on medication or something. Or checked into a hospital."
"Jet, you're not crazy."
"I feel crazy." Jet rolled over onto his side. He opened his eyes and looked at Zuko. Zuko's pale skin was flushed. His face was so serious; he was frowning, and there was a little crease between his eyebrows.
Without thinking, Jet reached out and took Zuko's glasses off. Zuko would usually have protested, but this time he let him do it. Jet hadn't had any real reason to take them, so now that he had them, he didn't know what to do with them. Zuko was watching him silently. Jet put the glasses on. "Do I look smarter now?" he asked.
"Yes," said Zuko. "Lots."
"I better keep them on, then. Maybe people will take me more seriously."
"I take you seriously."
"I know," Jet said. He looked at Zuko through the glasses. His own vision was 20/20, and Zuko's strong prescription made everything look distorted. "These things are gonna give me a headache," he said.
"Then don't wear them." Zuko reached out. "Here, I'll take them back."
Instead of complying, Jet, on impulse, took Zuko's hand. Zuko flushed again, and Jet kissed the tips of his fingers. "Jet," said Zuko, but he didn't pull away. Jet moved in closer and kissed his lips several times in succession, then put an arm around him.
"Jet, you don't have to," Zuko said.
"Be quiet," said Jet, but he was smiling.
"Wait," Zuko said. He took the glasses from Jet's face and turned to set them down on the small, polished nightstand beside the bed, then returned to his place next to Jet. He was frowning, slightly, so Jet kissed his mouth again. He couldn't bear being so close to Zuko without touching him, holding him. Zuko kissed him back, and Jet stroked the other boy's hair. I love you, Jet, he'd said. When he'd said it, Jet hadn't known what to say, and he still didn't. But he knew what he wanted to do right now. This was what he wanted.
Zuko's body was warm against his. Jet had forgotten all about Hahn and Zhao. About everything else but this. He licked at Zuko's neck, breathing against his skin. "Zuko."
"Yes?"
"What would you do if I asked you to fuck me?"
"I...Jet..."
Jet didn't need to look at him. He could feel the warmth of Zuko's blush beneath his lips and his hands.
"I would...of course I would, Jet," said Zuko, his voice shaking. "I'd do anything you wanted."
Jet felt the other boy's hand gently stroke the side of his face. So soft. It felt nice. Jet wanted him, so much. He wanted Zuko to fuck him, so badly. But as Zuko's hand slid down, over his throat, over his chest, Jet's stomach clenched, and he pulled back suddenly, grimacing. "I'm sorry. I can't right now. I--I just feel so bad." He rolled over onto his back, his breath coming fast. His cock was half-hard, but he couldn't have sex right now. Not like this. It wouldn't be right. He felt like he was losing his mind. "God, what's wrong with me?"
Zuko put a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Jet. We can do whatever you want, all right?"
Jet nodded. He closed his eyes again. "I don't want to go home. Can I stay over?" he asked. "Would Hahn mind?" He really wanted to know if Zuko would mind, but it would be better, if Zuko wanted him to go, for him to blame it on Hahn.
"Hahn won't mind. You can stay if you want to. And I want you to. You can stay as long as you want, okay?"
"Okay." Jet forced a smile, turning to look at Zuko. "Thanks."
Zuko smiled back. "It's nothing." He waited a few moments, then, tentatively, put his arm around Jet's waist. Jet let him. Zuko rested his head on Jet's shoulder. "Are you tired? We could go to sleep now if you want."
"No. I'm not that tired." Jet slipped his fingers into Zuko's hair, lightly ruffling it. "Let's just lie here, okay?"
"Okay. I'd like that."
Jet breathed deeply, trying to calm himself, conscious of the warmth of Zuko's body against his own. It felt so good. He'd missed it, he realized, and he'd only been away from Zuko for one night. He just wanted to stay with him, to be with him all the time. But he couldn't do that. His heart was still beating, so fast. He didn't know what to do. He kept saying that, but it was true. He didn't know. He loved Zuko so much, but he didn't trust him. "I missed you," he said, as if they hadn't seen each other for a week.
"I missed you too," said Zuko.
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