Somewhere With You, Chapter Twenty-three
Somewhere With You, Chapter Twenty-three
Heath gets a bottle of water, flicks off a couple more lights, sets the alarm and then trudges slowly up the stairs. There’s money in his wallet but he didn’t leave any on the counter for Jake even though he probably should’ve, seeing as how he went to Jake’s work place and asked him to come home with him. Even though sex won’t be happening tonight, Jake made it painfully clear that he’s not interested in letting anything real happen between them either, so he should probably pay regardless, just to keep the vibe right.
Heath hates the vibe, but he knows this is the way things have to be, so there’s no point in getting all twisted up about it now. Besides, it’s going on one a.m. and he’s got to set his alarm for six-thirty because the boss wants to go over everything he prepared tonight before the client shows up for his nine a.m. appointment. For now, Jake is in his bed and even if he’s not going to get laid, Heath doesn’t want to sully his remaining time with him thinking about things that will only depress him.
There’s a light shining beneath the bathroom door and Heath goes there first, takes a leak and brushes his teeth and considers a shower but he’s too tired and since there’s not going to be any sex anyway, it doesn’t matter if he’s squeaky clean or a little bit stale from the day. He hangs his sweater back in the closet, then flips the light off and goes into his room, stepping gingerly around to his side of the bed, careful not to trip over anything Jake might’ve left lying on the floor.
He drops his jeans on the floor, then climbs into bed wearing his t-shirt and boxer briefs, shivering as his skin touches the cold sheets. Heath can’t resist the pull of Jake’s presence or his warmth either, and slides up close and wraps his arm around Jake’s waist, pulling them flush together. Jake makes a grumbly noise but he doesn’t twitch or pull away, just wiggles a little to get comfortable again, rubbing his ass against Heath’s crotch in a way that does nothing to help with Heath’s goal of being good. Heath sighs, kisses his neck with longing, wishing he could do more but he’s too tired and besides, he promised Jake a break. He doesn’t pull away though, is willing to deal with the temptation because being close to him feels better than anything else, and he drifts off to sleep a few minutes later with his nose still pressed against Jake’s hair.
*****
Heath’s dreaming - he knows he is - but it’s real too, one of those kinds of dreams where he’s watching and doing at the same time. He’s not exactly sure where he is and he shivers in the cold darkness of his dream world, moving ahead, searching for whatever it is he’s been sent there to find. He looks around, blindly at first but then the darkness finally begins to give way faintly to dimness, variations of grays and blacks and blues and purples, all still so dark they run together, a smoky mist coloring even the air with the damp grayness of the place.
After a while, he begins to become aware of sounds, soft moans and gasps that his body recognizes and responds to, his dick swelling up in the presence of sex. He sniffs and can smell it on the fetid air around him, musky and ripe, and he moves his hips and gets some satisfaction even though he’s walking and there’s nothing to rub against. It’s a dream, his watching self remembers, so it doesn’t have to make sense.
As his eyes become more accustomed to the dreary gloom, he begins to make out shadows lurking in the corners of the place, only not lurking, because that implies hiding maybe, and watching, which they’re not doing at all. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t dare look too long even though there’s no sense of danger, but he sees what the shadow figures are doing all the same: they’re mating. They’re kissing and biting and fucking in the nooks and crannies of this nameless place, unconcerned that he might see, intent only on the one they’re with. He can’t see faces at all, gets only the vaguest glimpse of broad backs and straining muscles, thick thighs and tight asses. He can feel the intensity of their passion though, and his own body hums eagerly, desperately almost as he moves steadily along, his hips jerking more urgently with his own need, wanting so badly to claim what those other men have for himself but knowing he can’t have it, at least not with any of them. They are mated and he is not, so he continues on.
His eyes strain forward, narrowing to pierce the haze as he finally sees a distant lone figure in his path up ahead, someone standing still, not watching him, not acknowledging him at all, but Heath is drawn to him anyway. As he gets closer, his body surges with purpose and need and although he still cannot see the other man’s face, he suddenly knows that this man is for him, this is the one he’s meant to mate with, and his mouth waters and his dick leaks out drops of semen into his pants, so very ready to join with his partner.
As he finally closes the gap and reaches for the man, he realizes that his heart is pounding too, not just with excitement or lust, but with the elemental joy of finding the one he’s meant to be with. Heath wraps his arms around him from behind, buries his face into his neck and breathes in deep the scent of his beloved, and as the smell fills his nose and their bodies fit snug and tight together, Heath sends up a prayer of thankfulness that he’s found him at last, this one that makes him whole.
And then the sirens go off and Heath’s dream world fractures as the real world takes hold once again. But in that one brief moment when dreaming and reality collide, he realizes that while the rest of that shadowy world is gone, the faceless man from his dreams is still there in his arms in the cold light of morning.
*****
Jake’s alarm goes off, an explosion of sound plus the extra annoying racket of the phone vibrating on the night stand, just in case he could possibly sleep through the godawful noise. He doesn’t think that’s possible but he has it set that way anyway, just in case. Being late is never an acceptable option in his world.
This morning, though, he’s already awake and he grabs for the phone instantly but it’s too far away and he has to move, shove himself away from Heath and all the way to the edge of the bed. Finally he gets hold of it and finds the button to shut it up, but then Heath’s alarm starts going off too and when Jake falls back into the middle of the bed where they were both laying, Heath’s already moved away. Jake decides to give it a minute, hoping he’ll come back and take up where they left off but he doesn’t, and when Jake feels the mattress dip, he turns and watches in disbelief as Heath levers himself out of bed.
He’s pretty sure he didn’t dream what Heath had been doing just a couple of minutes earlier, and he runs his hand over the sheet behind him and yes, it’s warm where Heath was laying. But whatever was going on before is obviously over now because Heath’s turned the lamp on and is pulling on his jeans from last night and not even looking at him anymore.
Jake props himself up on one elbow, rubs his face blearily and asks, “What’s up?” Besides both of our dicks, he wants to add, but Heath is acting weird and Jake doesn’t know where he stands well enough to go demanding sex from his client, the guy who is supposed to be demanding sex from him. Especially since said client spent their whole time together yesterday not touching him and other than that quick, sleepy grope just now, seems to be well on the way to a hands-free morning. This is not cool.
Heath’s head pops out the top of his sweatshirt. “I’m gonna go make some coffee,” he says, his voice deep and gruff with the dregs of sleep. Jake can see the outline of his cock, still hard in his jeans, but he clearly has no plans to act on it. Jake’s pretty sure nothing awful happened in the three seconds it took him to shut his alarm clock off so he really doesn’t get what’s gone wrong.
“Yeah, ok,” he says, sliding out of bed. He went to bed naked last night, which is kind of irritating right now, but good in a way too. Let Heath get one more look at what he’s turning down. Maybe it will change his mind.
“I thought we were making something else, but I guess I was wrong, huh?” Jake says, bending over to get his t-shirt and jeans off the floor. It comes off snarkier than maybe he intended, but he’s still half asleep and a hundred percent horny, so tact is pretty much out the window. As he grabs the jeans, he realizes they’re Heath’s and no, he’s pissed enough not to want to wear his clothes right then, so he tosses them on the bed and settles for the shirt. It’s a little awkward standing there with his dick hanging out but he’s dealt with awkward before and survived.
Heath looks at him but stays where he is on the other side of the room, and after a few seconds he turns away, eyes on the mirror over his dresser so he can watch them both like they’re on T.V. “Sorry. That was a mistake. I was mostly asleep, didn’t realize what I was doing.”
Jake’s dick’s still throbbing from when Heath was touching him just minutes ago and he can’t let it go. “A mistake? How exactly was that a mistake? That’s what you brought me here for.”
He can see Heath’s jaw flex. “Actually, no, that’s not what I brought you here for.”
“Dude. I’m a hooker. That’s what I do. That’s what we do together.”
Heath shakes his head and looks away. Sex is the one thing Jake’s never had to ask for. He doesn’t know how to handle it and it’s making him a little bit crazy. “Seriously dude, what the fuck? Is this getting too vanilla for you already or what? You need to blindfold me and tie me up now to get off?”
Heath looks back at him then, eyes burning darkly through the glass of the mirror. Jake squares his shoulders and glares back, his stupid, desperate cock hanging fat against his thigh, not hard anymore but ready at a moment’s notice in case anyone changes their mind. He sees Heath take him all in, his eyes running up and down his body, and Jake knows that look, knows Heath’s burning up with it just like he is but still he stands his ground.
“Would you let me if I wanted to?” he asks, his voice as dark and smoky as his eyes.
Jake thinks about it for a minute, thinks of all the things he’s sworn he’d never do again, but somehow nothing seems off-limits with this man. It’s a bad, bad sign, but his heart’s racing with the direction they’re going in and he’s not in the mood to think about it now, so he just nods. “Yeah, if that’s what you want.”
Heath takes a step then, one and then another towards him. Jake plants his feet solid in the carpet, ready for anything. Well, anything except the next words out of Heath’s mouth.
“What about that guy yesterday? Would you let him tie you up too?”
It takes him a few seconds to process that, and then suddenly it all clicks into place. “Jesus, dude. You’ve known all-a-fucking-long that that’s what I do.” He drags a hand through his hair in frustration. “What? Did seeing it all of a sudden make it too real for you to handle?”
He doesn’t wait for Heath’s reaction to that, grabs Heath’s jeans because anything is better than having this conversation with his dick on display. He yanks them on, barely hearing what Heath’s saying for the angry, humiliated litany of I told you so’s going off in his head. Finally, “Did you even hear what I said to you yesterday?” sinks in.
Jake pulls up the zipper and lets that be enough. “Yeah, I heard it,” he says, loud but not shouting, not yet. “You want me to quit my job and move in. But that was yesterday and already today you can’t even stand to do it with me because you’re freaking out about that guy in the alley. How long before that totally rots your brain, or you meet some guy you like who never had to sell himself to buy dinner, and then I’m out on my ass and I’ve lost my room and some twink’s claimed my turf? Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Jake grabs his phone off the nightstand and turns towards the bathroom, not even giving Heath a chance to answer because there is no good answer. He points at him and does shout this time, “Like I said yesterday, it’s a fucking bad idea.”
He stomps into the bathroom and slams the door behind him, leaning against it for a minute while he catches his breath. He hates fighting, hates the ugly adrenalin rush and the helpless feeling he always gets because it seems like he’s never in a position to win. He half expects Heath to follow him, bang on the door and tell him to get the fuck out, but after a couple of minutes pass he realizes that's not going to happen. Maybe Heath hates fighting too, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to pursue it. Either way, it’s done, and apparently so are they.
Jake pushes off the door, realizes he’s squeezing the life out of his phone and lobs it onto the pile in the corner where he left his clothes and boots yesterday. He turns on the shower, then plants his fists on the counter and glares at himself in the mirror for a minute, sees wild eyes and flushed cheeks and crazy bed hair. He needs to get out of here like immediately but he needs to calm his shit down even more, and a shower will at least give him a few minutes to get some of the poison out of his system.
Jake peels out of his clothes and steps under the hot spray. The water feels good and as he soaps himself up, he tries to remember some relaxation techniques he read on-line but he’s too keyed-up to focus on anything peaceful. His dick’s hard again, all revved up from the fight, and the smell of Heath swirls up in the mist, pissing him off all over again so that when his hands close around his cock he doesn’t hesitate to take care of it, even going so far as to leave his own personal calling card on the dark tiles of Heath’s shower for him to see later. It’s immature and probably gives away a lot more than he wants to, but at the moment he doesn’t even care.
*****
Heath starts the coffee, thinks about sticking some biscuits in the oven but the thought of food makes him want to vomit and he’s pretty sure Jake won’t even stop on his way out the door. He glances up at the ceiling, thinks about Jake wet and naked in the shower and feels pervy for doing it, but he can’t stop himself.
His whole being craves him. Heath’s never been in love before and he’s never been very sympathetic when his friends have basically gone batshit crazy over another person, but suddenly, he gets it. He’s right there in the nuthouse with all the rest of them and Jake’s not. Walking away from him this morning was the hardest thing Heath’s ever had to do, but his choices are to burn a little now or burn a whole lot later, and he has to start taking care of himself sometime.
He thinks it’s really weird that one stupid dream would be the thing to smash his whole concept of reality into a thousand pieces, but maybe it was his subconscious’ way of breaking in and getting his attention, of forcing him to own up to the way he really feels about Jake. Up to now, he’s never been the kind of person to take dreams seriously, but this one was different. It felt real, it smelled real, it even tasted real. And the way Jake felt in his arms went straight to his heart and stayed there even after he was awake. That was the kicker for Heath, the big fat clue that he’s in this thing way over his head without a paddle or a shoreline anywhere in sight.
But his issues run a lot deeper than just a fucked up love life, and it feels like figuring this thing out with Jake has cracked open the lid on a giant Pandora’s Box full of fucked-up things about himself that he's been ignoring for years. Bottom line is, he’s almost thirty-two, and in about three blinks he’ll be forty. His life is hurtling by like a bullet train and if he keeps on going down the path he’s following, his future is easy to see. He’s going to end up all alone, haggard and beat-down from dealing with other people’s dishonesty and hatefulness and greed, chasing the next job or promotion or ass to kiss and totally fucking miserable.
Heath hates that picture. His grandfather wanted him to follow in his footsteps because the law was a good career for him, but his grandfather had also wanted him to move back to Florida and go to work for his firm and Heath had balked at that, had insisted on making his own way. He’s found success in his career, but his life outside of that hasn’t turned out like anything he or his grandfather envisioned for him, and now that he’s finally taking notice, it’s not looking like anything Heath wants for his future.
The dream wasn’t about life - it was a lot more specific than that. It was about finding love in a dark and lonely place, and when Heath woke up with Jake in his arms, he realized that that was exactly what he’d done. He’d found the one person that he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his days with, turning tricks in a sleazy, run-down bar catering to users and losers. And it had freaked him out.
But Heath doesn’t care about Jake’s past. Jake got that part totally wrong. All he cares about is the future, and Jake’s made it excessively plain that he doesn’t want to take this beyond where they are right now. Based on what he said this morning, Heath can’t even blame him. Jake has to take care of himself too, after all. Unfortunately, Heath knows that what they have right now is never going to be enough for him and since Jake won’t give him more, they’re left at an impasse with only one sure fix: to give up and walk away.
read more here: http://whiskiegurl.livejournal.com/21807.html
Heath gets a bottle of water, flicks off a couple more lights, sets the alarm and then trudges slowly up the stairs. There’s money in his wallet but he didn’t leave any on the counter for Jake even though he probably should’ve, seeing as how he went to Jake’s work place and asked him to come home with him. Even though sex won’t be happening tonight, Jake made it painfully clear that he’s not interested in letting anything real happen between them either, so he should probably pay regardless, just to keep the vibe right.
Heath hates the vibe, but he knows this is the way things have to be, so there’s no point in getting all twisted up about it now. Besides, it’s going on one a.m. and he’s got to set his alarm for six-thirty because the boss wants to go over everything he prepared tonight before the client shows up for his nine a.m. appointment. For now, Jake is in his bed and even if he’s not going to get laid, Heath doesn’t want to sully his remaining time with him thinking about things that will only depress him.
There’s a light shining beneath the bathroom door and Heath goes there first, takes a leak and brushes his teeth and considers a shower but he’s too tired and since there’s not going to be any sex anyway, it doesn’t matter if he’s squeaky clean or a little bit stale from the day. He hangs his sweater back in the closet, then flips the light off and goes into his room, stepping gingerly around to his side of the bed, careful not to trip over anything Jake might’ve left lying on the floor.
He drops his jeans on the floor, then climbs into bed wearing his t-shirt and boxer briefs, shivering as his skin touches the cold sheets. Heath can’t resist the pull of Jake’s presence or his warmth either, and slides up close and wraps his arm around Jake’s waist, pulling them flush together. Jake makes a grumbly noise but he doesn’t twitch or pull away, just wiggles a little to get comfortable again, rubbing his ass against Heath’s crotch in a way that does nothing to help with Heath’s goal of being good. Heath sighs, kisses his neck with longing, wishing he could do more but he’s too tired and besides, he promised Jake a break. He doesn’t pull away though, is willing to deal with the temptation because being close to him feels better than anything else, and he drifts off to sleep a few minutes later with his nose still pressed against Jake’s hair.
*****
Heath’s dreaming - he knows he is - but it’s real too, one of those kinds of dreams where he’s watching and doing at the same time. He’s not exactly sure where he is and he shivers in the cold darkness of his dream world, moving ahead, searching for whatever it is he’s been sent there to find. He looks around, blindly at first but then the darkness finally begins to give way faintly to dimness, variations of grays and blacks and blues and purples, all still so dark they run together, a smoky mist coloring even the air with the damp grayness of the place.
After a while, he begins to become aware of sounds, soft moans and gasps that his body recognizes and responds to, his dick swelling up in the presence of sex. He sniffs and can smell it on the fetid air around him, musky and ripe, and he moves his hips and gets some satisfaction even though he’s walking and there’s nothing to rub against. It’s a dream, his watching self remembers, so it doesn’t have to make sense.
As his eyes become more accustomed to the dreary gloom, he begins to make out shadows lurking in the corners of the place, only not lurking, because that implies hiding maybe, and watching, which they’re not doing at all. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t dare look too long even though there’s no sense of danger, but he sees what the shadow figures are doing all the same: they’re mating. They’re kissing and biting and fucking in the nooks and crannies of this nameless place, unconcerned that he might see, intent only on the one they’re with. He can’t see faces at all, gets only the vaguest glimpse of broad backs and straining muscles, thick thighs and tight asses. He can feel the intensity of their passion though, and his own body hums eagerly, desperately almost as he moves steadily along, his hips jerking more urgently with his own need, wanting so badly to claim what those other men have for himself but knowing he can’t have it, at least not with any of them. They are mated and he is not, so he continues on.
His eyes strain forward, narrowing to pierce the haze as he finally sees a distant lone figure in his path up ahead, someone standing still, not watching him, not acknowledging him at all, but Heath is drawn to him anyway. As he gets closer, his body surges with purpose and need and although he still cannot see the other man’s face, he suddenly knows that this man is for him, this is the one he’s meant to mate with, and his mouth waters and his dick leaks out drops of semen into his pants, so very ready to join with his partner.
As he finally closes the gap and reaches for the man, he realizes that his heart is pounding too, not just with excitement or lust, but with the elemental joy of finding the one he’s meant to be with. Heath wraps his arms around him from behind, buries his face into his neck and breathes in deep the scent of his beloved, and as the smell fills his nose and their bodies fit snug and tight together, Heath sends up a prayer of thankfulness that he’s found him at last, this one that makes him whole.
And then the sirens go off and Heath’s dream world fractures as the real world takes hold once again. But in that one brief moment when dreaming and reality collide, he realizes that while the rest of that shadowy world is gone, the faceless man from his dreams is still there in his arms in the cold light of morning.
*****
Jake’s alarm goes off, an explosion of sound plus the extra annoying racket of the phone vibrating on the night stand, just in case he could possibly sleep through the godawful noise. He doesn’t think that’s possible but he has it set that way anyway, just in case. Being late is never an acceptable option in his world.
This morning, though, he’s already awake and he grabs for the phone instantly but it’s too far away and he has to move, shove himself away from Heath and all the way to the edge of the bed. Finally he gets hold of it and finds the button to shut it up, but then Heath’s alarm starts going off too and when Jake falls back into the middle of the bed where they were both laying, Heath’s already moved away. Jake decides to give it a minute, hoping he’ll come back and take up where they left off but he doesn’t, and when Jake feels the mattress dip, he turns and watches in disbelief as Heath levers himself out of bed.
He’s pretty sure he didn’t dream what Heath had been doing just a couple of minutes earlier, and he runs his hand over the sheet behind him and yes, it’s warm where Heath was laying. But whatever was going on before is obviously over now because Heath’s turned the lamp on and is pulling on his jeans from last night and not even looking at him anymore.
Jake props himself up on one elbow, rubs his face blearily and asks, “What’s up?” Besides both of our dicks, he wants to add, but Heath is acting weird and Jake doesn’t know where he stands well enough to go demanding sex from his client, the guy who is supposed to be demanding sex from him. Especially since said client spent their whole time together yesterday not touching him and other than that quick, sleepy grope just now, seems to be well on the way to a hands-free morning. This is not cool.
Heath’s head pops out the top of his sweatshirt. “I’m gonna go make some coffee,” he says, his voice deep and gruff with the dregs of sleep. Jake can see the outline of his cock, still hard in his jeans, but he clearly has no plans to act on it. Jake’s pretty sure nothing awful happened in the three seconds it took him to shut his alarm clock off so he really doesn’t get what’s gone wrong.
“Yeah, ok,” he says, sliding out of bed. He went to bed naked last night, which is kind of irritating right now, but good in a way too. Let Heath get one more look at what he’s turning down. Maybe it will change his mind.
“I thought we were making something else, but I guess I was wrong, huh?” Jake says, bending over to get his t-shirt and jeans off the floor. It comes off snarkier than maybe he intended, but he’s still half asleep and a hundred percent horny, so tact is pretty much out the window. As he grabs the jeans, he realizes they’re Heath’s and no, he’s pissed enough not to want to wear his clothes right then, so he tosses them on the bed and settles for the shirt. It’s a little awkward standing there with his dick hanging out but he’s dealt with awkward before and survived.
Heath looks at him but stays where he is on the other side of the room, and after a few seconds he turns away, eyes on the mirror over his dresser so he can watch them both like they’re on T.V. “Sorry. That was a mistake. I was mostly asleep, didn’t realize what I was doing.”
Jake’s dick’s still throbbing from when Heath was touching him just minutes ago and he can’t let it go. “A mistake? How exactly was that a mistake? That’s what you brought me here for.”
He can see Heath’s jaw flex. “Actually, no, that’s not what I brought you here for.”
“Dude. I’m a hooker. That’s what I do. That’s what we do together.”
Heath shakes his head and looks away. Sex is the one thing Jake’s never had to ask for. He doesn’t know how to handle it and it’s making him a little bit crazy. “Seriously dude, what the fuck? Is this getting too vanilla for you already or what? You need to blindfold me and tie me up now to get off?”
Heath looks back at him then, eyes burning darkly through the glass of the mirror. Jake squares his shoulders and glares back, his stupid, desperate cock hanging fat against his thigh, not hard anymore but ready at a moment’s notice in case anyone changes their mind. He sees Heath take him all in, his eyes running up and down his body, and Jake knows that look, knows Heath’s burning up with it just like he is but still he stands his ground.
“Would you let me if I wanted to?” he asks, his voice as dark and smoky as his eyes.
Jake thinks about it for a minute, thinks of all the things he’s sworn he’d never do again, but somehow nothing seems off-limits with this man. It’s a bad, bad sign, but his heart’s racing with the direction they’re going in and he’s not in the mood to think about it now, so he just nods. “Yeah, if that’s what you want.”
Heath takes a step then, one and then another towards him. Jake plants his feet solid in the carpet, ready for anything. Well, anything except the next words out of Heath’s mouth.
“What about that guy yesterday? Would you let him tie you up too?”
It takes him a few seconds to process that, and then suddenly it all clicks into place. “Jesus, dude. You’ve known all-a-fucking-long that that’s what I do.” He drags a hand through his hair in frustration. “What? Did seeing it all of a sudden make it too real for you to handle?”
He doesn’t wait for Heath’s reaction to that, grabs Heath’s jeans because anything is better than having this conversation with his dick on display. He yanks them on, barely hearing what Heath’s saying for the angry, humiliated litany of I told you so’s going off in his head. Finally, “Did you even hear what I said to you yesterday?” sinks in.
Jake pulls up the zipper and lets that be enough. “Yeah, I heard it,” he says, loud but not shouting, not yet. “You want me to quit my job and move in. But that was yesterday and already today you can’t even stand to do it with me because you’re freaking out about that guy in the alley. How long before that totally rots your brain, or you meet some guy you like who never had to sell himself to buy dinner, and then I’m out on my ass and I’ve lost my room and some twink’s claimed my turf? Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Jake grabs his phone off the nightstand and turns towards the bathroom, not even giving Heath a chance to answer because there is no good answer. He points at him and does shout this time, “Like I said yesterday, it’s a fucking bad idea.”
He stomps into the bathroom and slams the door behind him, leaning against it for a minute while he catches his breath. He hates fighting, hates the ugly adrenalin rush and the helpless feeling he always gets because it seems like he’s never in a position to win. He half expects Heath to follow him, bang on the door and tell him to get the fuck out, but after a couple of minutes pass he realizes that's not going to happen. Maybe Heath hates fighting too, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough to pursue it. Either way, it’s done, and apparently so are they.
Jake pushes off the door, realizes he’s squeezing the life out of his phone and lobs it onto the pile in the corner where he left his clothes and boots yesterday. He turns on the shower, then plants his fists on the counter and glares at himself in the mirror for a minute, sees wild eyes and flushed cheeks and crazy bed hair. He needs to get out of here like immediately but he needs to calm his shit down even more, and a shower will at least give him a few minutes to get some of the poison out of his system.
Jake peels out of his clothes and steps under the hot spray. The water feels good and as he soaps himself up, he tries to remember some relaxation techniques he read on-line but he’s too keyed-up to focus on anything peaceful. His dick’s hard again, all revved up from the fight, and the smell of Heath swirls up in the mist, pissing him off all over again so that when his hands close around his cock he doesn’t hesitate to take care of it, even going so far as to leave his own personal calling card on the dark tiles of Heath’s shower for him to see later. It’s immature and probably gives away a lot more than he wants to, but at the moment he doesn’t even care.
*****
Heath starts the coffee, thinks about sticking some biscuits in the oven but the thought of food makes him want to vomit and he’s pretty sure Jake won’t even stop on his way out the door. He glances up at the ceiling, thinks about Jake wet and naked in the shower and feels pervy for doing it, but he can’t stop himself.
His whole being craves him. Heath’s never been in love before and he’s never been very sympathetic when his friends have basically gone batshit crazy over another person, but suddenly, he gets it. He’s right there in the nuthouse with all the rest of them and Jake’s not. Walking away from him this morning was the hardest thing Heath’s ever had to do, but his choices are to burn a little now or burn a whole lot later, and he has to start taking care of himself sometime.
He thinks it’s really weird that one stupid dream would be the thing to smash his whole concept of reality into a thousand pieces, but maybe it was his subconscious’ way of breaking in and getting his attention, of forcing him to own up to the way he really feels about Jake. Up to now, he’s never been the kind of person to take dreams seriously, but this one was different. It felt real, it smelled real, it even tasted real. And the way Jake felt in his arms went straight to his heart and stayed there even after he was awake. That was the kicker for Heath, the big fat clue that he’s in this thing way over his head without a paddle or a shoreline anywhere in sight.
But his issues run a lot deeper than just a fucked up love life, and it feels like figuring this thing out with Jake has cracked open the lid on a giant Pandora’s Box full of fucked-up things about himself that he's been ignoring for years. Bottom line is, he’s almost thirty-two, and in about three blinks he’ll be forty. His life is hurtling by like a bullet train and if he keeps on going down the path he’s following, his future is easy to see. He’s going to end up all alone, haggard and beat-down from dealing with other people’s dishonesty and hatefulness and greed, chasing the next job or promotion or ass to kiss and totally fucking miserable.
Heath hates that picture. His grandfather wanted him to follow in his footsteps because the law was a good career for him, but his grandfather had also wanted him to move back to Florida and go to work for his firm and Heath had balked at that, had insisted on making his own way. He’s found success in his career, but his life outside of that hasn’t turned out like anything he or his grandfather envisioned for him, and now that he’s finally taking notice, it’s not looking like anything Heath wants for his future.
The dream wasn’t about life - it was a lot more specific than that. It was about finding love in a dark and lonely place, and when Heath woke up with Jake in his arms, he realized that that was exactly what he’d done. He’d found the one person that he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his days with, turning tricks in a sleazy, run-down bar catering to users and losers. And it had freaked him out.
But Heath doesn’t care about Jake’s past. Jake got that part totally wrong. All he cares about is the future, and Jake’s made it excessively plain that he doesn’t want to take this beyond where they are right now. Based on what he said this morning, Heath can’t even blame him. Jake has to take care of himself too, after all. Unfortunately, Heath knows that what they have right now is never going to be enough for him and since Jake won’t give him more, they’re left at an impasse with only one sure fix: to give up and walk away.
read more here: http://whiskiegurl.livejournal.com/21807.html