Gah. Sometimes it happens that an author has to wrestle with a chapter to get it down in print. This chapter was that, for me. I was also preparing for my youngest's birthday, which was yesterday. Between the two I didn't think I'd ever get it posted. I'm sorry for the delay; thank you all for your love and patience. Remember, if I'm late posting I'll always let you know on my blog. :)
Jack and Jacey's date in Chapter 10 was a huge hit – glad you all enjoyed it!
-o-
Jack
Wednesday at work is much the same as the day before, the notable exception being that I don't spend the whole day watching the clock. When I arrive at work in the morning, my female coworkers assail me with questions about our date. I give them a quick summary, smirking at the chorus of "awwws" when I tell them about going back to the gallery to get the jade carving. I can't help noticing they weren't nearly as interested in my dating life before they met Jacey. It's clear he has them completely charmed.
When Mike tags along to my office at the end of the day, he is quiet and pensive. Several times he opens his mouth as though he's about to speak, but it takes a few tries before he finally does.
"It was nice to meet Jacey yesterday," he begins.
I smile. "He enjoyed meeting everyone here too."
"Did you guys have a good time last night?" he asks, his tone innocuous and conversational.
"We had a great time. We went to see the Bean, which was an experience. It's so...it's hard to describe. It's almost like being in another world." Mike nods in understanding. "And then we had dinner at Park Grill."
"Oh, that's my dad's favorite," Mike remarks. "They always do a great job there."
"The food was great. We both liked it," I confirm. "Then we walked down Michigan to an art gallery. Jacey's a fine arts student – did I tell you that already?" He shakes his head. "Yeah. So they were having a showing of a Columbian artist, and Jacey loved it. He lost himself in these five paintings for half an hour." I recall it with an indulgent smile. I catch Mike's gaze to find him watching me with an expression I can't quite identify. "What?" I ask.
He smiles and shakes his head. "No, nothing," he replies. "I was just thinking...you're really smitten with him, aren't you? He's not just a casual relationship."
"He's much more than a casual relationship," I agree. "The problem is, we're so goddamned far away from each other, and for the amount of time we're able to get together we'll likely end up spending eleven months of the year apart." I sigh. "For the foreseeable future I can't see it changing. He's got two years left in his degree after this year." Again Mike's expression has me puzzled. Instead of asking again what he's thinking, I just raise my eyebrows at him.
"I had no idea," he replies to my unspoken question. "I feel kinda awkward now about teasing you on the age difference. I thought it was just a sexual thing. I'm really sorry, Jack. But let me say, now that I have a better picture of what he means to you, I'd like to get to know him better."
"Thanks, Mike," I reply, with gratitude and some surprise. "You really don't have to apologize, I wasn't upset. All the same, it's nice of you to say so." I reach out to shake his hand and he clasps mine firmly. "No harm done."
"Thanks. I've developed quite a knack for putting my foot in my mouth."
"It's okay," I assure him, adding with a good-natured grin, "I'm getting used to it."
He returns a wry smile. "I'm afraid recent events in my life have turned me into a bit of a cynic."
"You mentioned a bad breakup. May I ask what happened?"
He sinks into one of my office chairs with a sigh. "Oh, just a long, fucked-up story of dishonesty and co-dependence. I'll try to sum it up." He goes on to tell me about the relationship he had with a man who had once been his childhood friend. He alludes to some tragedy in the man's adolescent years that had left him with profound emotional scars, and that the man had moved away for college – to Seattle, no less – not returning to Chicago until last year. They rediscovered their friendship, each realizing the other was gay, and began to date. The man was living with friends, a man and woman who were taking care of him in the wake of the emotional breakdown that precipitated his return to Chicago.
I can't help noticing, as he tells the story, that he never mentions the man's name. I wonder if it makes the pain even worse to say the name, as it does for me to hear Ashton mentioned.
Mike continues, telling me how whenever he'd go to the house his boyfriend was staying at, he'd get all kinds of attitude from the man of the house. "I had no idea what his problem was, but I thought, whatever; it has nothing to do with me. I just wanted to be with...the man I loved." He looks at me then, his face contorted. "I fell in love with him. We started sleeping together, and it was amazing. I knew he had a lot of emotional healing to do, but I had time to wait. I was just there for him, you know? I didn't push, but I let him know how I felt about him. Then one night, my boyfriend showed up at on my doorstep in only a pair of jeans – no coat or shirt, in bare feet in the cold. He was very upset but wouldn't tell me what was wrong; I had a feeling it had something to do with the people he was living with, but I didn't know for sure. Definitely, something happened at that house that he had to run away from it half-dressed.
"I told him he could run to me – that he could stay with me forever. I gave him my love and my support. I offered him my future...our future." He scowls and continues on, telling me that the woman had died suddenly, hit by a car right in front of both men. His boyfriend was her medical proxy and was forced to make the decision to remove her from life support.
"And you know, when she died, he didn't even call me to tell me? I heard from him two days later, like an afterthought. The man I loved forgot to call me for three days – not even a quick call to let me know what happened and that he'd need to help his roommate prepare the funeral.
"After the service I thought I'd have my boyfriend back, or at least see him once in a while. He spent a lot of time taking care of..." He pauses. "Sorry, I know it's childish, but I find it nauseating to say their names...taking care of his friend. Until one night he came to tell me his friend was moving to Seattle and that he was going to move back as well. And as he's telling me this, I'm thinking to myself, he's telling me what he's going to do. This isn't a discussion, he's not asking my opinion or asking me to consider going with him. And then he tells me he's in love with the other guy.
"I told him, 'This is probably just a reaction to her death,' you know? I asked him not to make any hasty decisions so soon after going through that tragedy. And then..." Mike's face twists in pain. "He told me he'd been sleeping with the guy all along...all the time we were together, after I slept with him and told him I loved him. But the way he told me – it was like it slipped out, like he never meant to tell me at all..."
By now I've sunk into the chair beside Mike. I can feel the horrified expression on my face as Mike tells me of his lover's betrayal.
"So I threw him out," Mike concludes. The silence settles in the room for a few seconds while I attempt to process the story.
Finally I speak. "That's possibly the worst breakup story I've ever heard," I tell him. "I'm sorry for what he did to you, Mike." I lay my hand over his where it grips the armrest of the office chair. "No wonder..."
"No wonder what?" he asks.
"That first day when we went to lunch, remember? You being Mr. Direct..."
"Oh yeah," he acknowledges. "Another unfortunate by-product of that fucked-up situation. There were so many questions I didn't ask because I didn't want to push him, thinking he'd tell me when he was ready if I was patient enough, caring enough."
"He took advantage of your gentle handling of him," I offer and Mike nods. "Not everyone is like him, Mike."
"No, I know," he acknowledges. "It's just hard to consider trusting anyone again. I've developed a social allergy where vagueness is concerned, I think."
"I can understand why," I reply with a sympathetic nod, patting his hand. We're quiet again for a moment before I look up at the clock on my wall. "Shit," I curse under my breath. "Mike, I'm sorry but I really need to get going."
He looks at the clock too and starts. "Wow, I didn't realize how long I'd been talking. Sorry to keep you."
"Don't apologize," I assure him. "I appreciate you telling me about it. It sounds like you can use a friend to talk to, too."
"Thanks for being a good listener." He gives me a wan smile as he puts on his overcoat. "What are you guys up to tonight?"
"Staying in tonight," I reply, putting on my own outerwear. "Actually, I'm supposed to be bringing home takeout. I'd better call Jacey and let him know I'm running late."
"Did you drive today?" he asks.
"No – took the L," I answer, scrolling to Jacey's number on my phone.
"You live in Lakeview, right?"
"Yeah, Roscoe, just off Halsted."
"I only live a few blocks north of there. Why don't I give you a ride?" he offers.
"Are you sure?"
"Definitely," he smiles. "I go almost right past your door."
"That sounds great, Mike," I reply gratefully. I press the button to call Jacey and grin as I imagine the Sarah Vaughan ringtone playing. When he answers I apologize for running late. He is very understanding and asks if I'd like him to step out to get dinner instead. "No, no," I assure him. "I'll stop at the Diner and pick it up. I'll order on my way home so it'll be ready. Actually, Mike offered to give me a ride – he doesn't live far from my place."
"Ah. Nice of him to offer," Jacey replies. "Okay, I'll see you in a bit, then."
"See you soon," I promise.
The ride home with Mike is relaxed; after our heavy conversation in my office we keep things on a much lighter note. He admits he's glad that the SEC stuff will be wrapping up this week. Things have gone smoothly, particularly this week, and we're well on track to finish a day early, as we hoped. He drops me outside the Chicago Diner where the food will be waiting, and wishes me a good night before he drives away.
-o-
After dinner, Jacey and I sit on the couch and he pulls out his guitar, strumming absent-mindedly as we talk. He asks me how my workday was, blushing when I tell him how all the women in my office were raving about him. He tells me about taking his sketchpad and pencils and walking over to the Lakefront Trail to people-watch and to draw.
A comfortable silence settles over us. He continues to play and I page through one of his pads – one from his freshman year, he's told me. It contains a lot of the Austin cityscape, things he sees on a daily basis around the campus and in his neighborhood. Occasionally he stops strumming long enough to tell me what a particular sketch is, or what was happening the day he drew it.
I don't recognize anything he's playing and I wonder whether he's just improvising, until he clears his throat and begins to sing. "Oh you delicate heart..." It's the song he sang to me on Monday morning when I was upset about my dad. I'd made an off-hand remark about him playing it on the guitar, and he told me he didn't know the chords. It seems he learned it in the last few days while he's been here by himself.
He makes his way through the lyrics. He doesn't have an exceptionally strong voice; as soft-spoken as he is, that isn't surprising. His voice is sweet, gentle and has a hauntingly innocent quality that gives me goose bumps. As he sings he looks down at his fingers on the fret board, not making eye contact with me. He's clearly self-conscious, and I love that he's putting himself out on a limb for me. It really wouldn't matter to me what his voice sounded like – I'm just moved by his thoughtfulness. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.
By the time he finishes the last notes of the song I want to wrap myself around him. He finally allows himself a shy look in my direction. "Jacey, that was..." I begin, trying to find the words to express how I feel. He blushes and smiles broadly.
"Thanks, Jackie," he answers, already knowing what I mean. He sets the guitar on the floor, leaning the body of it against the armchair, and slides close to me, into my arms. Though it's still relatively early in the evening, it's been a long day for me, following a late night last night. It seems impossible that the week is more than half over already, that after tonight we'll only have two more nights to sleep in the same bed. Tomorrow night we'll be out late at the clubs, and then Friday is our last night – I have no idea what we'll end up doing. For tonight I want to hold my sweet boy in my arms and just be.
"Have I told you how glad I am that you're here?" I ask, stroking Jacey's hair as his head rests against my shoulder.
"Mmm," he answers vaguely. "You've mentioned it...but please feel free to repeat yourself."
-o-
Work on Thursday is a wrap-up day, tying up the loose ends with Steven and Mike. We meet with Andrew, and Steven gives his honest opinion of how Fortunatus management oversaw their brokers' operations during the time of Eric Yorkie's tenure. His assessment is very much in line with my own. Andrew accepts Steven's criticism with humility, acknowledging his own role in being too hands-off when it came to monitoring. To my relief he does tell Steven about the changes that have already been made since Eric's departure, clarifying lines of accountability and revising procedures for better operational oversight.
I'm glad Steven has broached the subject, because if he didn't I would feel an obligation to tell Andrew. I'm relieved not to have to.
When our meeting ends and Steven has left, the three of us start toward the direction of my office, but Andrew asks me to wait a moment. I tell Mike to go ahead and that I'll join him in my office shortly.
When Mike leaves, Andrew closes the meeting room door behind him and turns to face me, leaning casually against the door. "So Jack, how did you find working with Mike Newton?"
"It went well," I reply. "I was impressed with how he dealt with Steven. He answered all my questions and it didn't matter how many I asked, he always took the time to explain the legal aspects. I had no issues with him."
Andrew nods thoughtfully as he listens to me. "I believe you're aware that Newton, Stanley & Crowley are new legal representation for Fortunatus. It couldn't have been a worse time for us to decide to break with our prior law firm, but for a number of reasons, it couldn't be avoided. At the same time, there's something to be said for a situation like this one. It illustrates how your lawyer operates under pressure. The board has asked us to submit a report to them on the investigation. They'd also like a report on how things went with Mike, as he's the one who courted us and has been involved with the Yorkie situation. You have a better grasp of his abilities than anyone, I believe. I'd like to leave the responsibility for this report to you."
"Sure, Andrew," I reply. "Though, Mike will get a copy of the investigation report too, right? Perhaps I should submit a separate report to the board about Mike's involvement."
"Yes," he agrees, "that's very shrewd, Jack. Good plan."
"Okay. I'll get to work on it tomorrow."
"Actually, that's something else I want to ask you about – tomorrow."
"Yes?"
"You still have your boyfriend visiting you, right?" he asks kindly, to which I nod. "When does he leave?"
"He flies home on Saturday."
"I think you've worked your ass off this week, Jack. It was a baptism by fire, and you knocked it out of the park." I smile, grateful for his assessment, and he returns it. "I want you to take tomorrow off – no effect on your pay, of course. Spend the day with...I'm sorry, I've forgotten his name."
"Jacey," I supply.
"Right. Spend the day with Jacey and enjoy your weekend. Monday will be soon enough for you to start on the report. Hell, you finished a day early anyways."
"Wow, Andrew," I answer with surprise. "Thank you! That's very generous."
"You deserve it," he replies. "I'm thoroughly impressed, Jack, and I'm confident the board will be too."
"It was an interesting experience," I allow, "but I'm looking forward to getting back to what I love."
He smiles before allowing, "I almost envy you. I've all but stopped brokering since I started managing the sales staff. Oh, I have a few clients still, but some days I miss the thrill of really working the market." He sighs. "Well, enjoy your weekend. Come back on Monday ready to tackle it again."
He extends his hand and I clasp it in a firm shake, thanking him again. I leave the meeting room with a feeling of accomplishment and relief.
When I arrive at my office Mike is sitting, leafing through a magazine. He looks up and asks, "Hey – everything good?"
"Everything's great," I confirm.
He nods. "Good." He looks at the magazine again for a moment before asking, "So we're still on for tonight?"
"Definitely. I'm looking forward to going out and blowing off some steam. Do you have a place you usually go?"
"I like Sunny's, on North Clark," he tells me.
"I haven't been there yet," I reply. "Good music?"
"Yeah, it's good," he confirms. "Thursday is Retro Night. You know – we can party like it's 1999."
I chuckle. "Sounds great. And Andrew just gave me tomorrow off, so I can sleep in tomorrow. Want to meet outside the front door at eleven?"
"I'll be there."
"Oh," I add as something else occurs to me. "Are you...will you be bringing someone?"
"No," he replies.
"Okay. Well...maybe you can take someone home instead..." I suggest.
"Maybe," he smirks. "See you then."
I leave at five on the dot, anxious to get home. I told Jacey I'd make dinner tonight, and I plan to make a stir-fry. As I ride the train toward home, I consider how well things have gone this week, meal-wise. Jacey eats meat and I don't, but we've both been very accommodating of each other – especially Jacey making the meatless chili. Now that I have tomorrow off we have some more options for dinner – I could show him how to make spring rolls...and feed them to him...
I get home and Jacey greets me with a huge smile from the living room chair where he's sketching. After I change he keeps me company in the kitchen while I make dinner, insisting on helping me. I chop vegetables and he keeps an eye on the rice. By the time we sit at the table we each have a plate of basmati rice and stir-fried vegetables with oyster sauce. He has a chicken breast sliced up on his, I have tofu. Over dinner he asks me why I became vegetarian. I tell him how my entire family tried it out for six months when I was sixteen, and I was the only one who continued on. I fell off the wagon a bit in college when I didn't feel like doing the work involved in maintaining that lifestyle, but recommitted to it when I moved to Seattle.
I ask what he did today, and he tells me he went to do some shopping downtown. He picked up a few souvenirs, he says, one for his mom and something for his good friend and current roommate, Marty. The ubiquitous sketchpad made the trip with him as well, as he wanted to sketch some of the downtown architecture.
"Here," he says, standing up from his now-bare plate and grabbing the pad from the coffee table. "Look at this one."
"If this is what I think it is," I reply, recognizing it immediately, "it's not downtown." It's one of the giraffe sculptures on the street very near my apartment. I can see them, in fact, from my bedroom window.
"Nope, you're right," he confirms. "I've been wondering about that sculpture all week. I thought someone had emulated a John Kearney, but it turns out it is a John Kearney – right here in Boystown. There's a bunch more of his stuff around the city."
"Now that you mention it," I reply, "I've seen a moose sculpture downtown that looks like this."
"That's one of them," he grins. "I was thinking tomorrow maybe I'll go in search of a few of them."
"Want some company?" I ask, explaining, "My supervisor told me today that he was giving me tomorrow off, so if you don't mind me joining you..."
"Andrew gave you the day off?"
"Yeah. He said I deserve it...even though I've only worked there three weeks."
Jacey beams. "Jackie, you're too modest! That's awesome! He knows you rocked the SEC stuff."
"I guess," I reply, trying to remain humble. The truth is, I feel great about it. I know I took on something unpleasant that, nevertheless, had to be dealt with. I'm happy and relieved.
Jacey stands, holding the sketchpad and looking at me with pride in his eyes. I can't help myself – I'm suddenly filled with happiness I can't contain. I grab him around the waist, lifting him off his feet and spinning us around in the large open space between my couch and dining table. He shouts with laughter, wrapping his legs around my waist and holding on tight.
-o-
Right at eleven, we show up outside the club. We spent the early part of the evening at my place, watching Grey's together before slipping into the shower – again, together. In the shower, I went down on Jacey, throating his hard length repeatedly until he shot his load down my throat; then, in a stunning act of environmental carelessness, we let the hot water continue to rain down upon us as he did the same to me.
Now he's standing beside me, excitedly looking around at the people on the street outside the club. Under his coat he's dressed in black pants and a slim-fitting white dress shirt. Before we left the apartment I told him how fucking amazing his ass looks in these pants, and now that we're standing in the midst of a crowd, it seems the other guys here appreciate the view as much as I do.
"Hey," says a friendly voice behind me; I recognize it immediately as Mike's voice. Jacey and I both turn to find him standing there smiling. He's looking very handsome himself in his casual clothes, and it occurs to me I've never seen him in anything but a suit. He's wearing slim blue jeans and a simple grey ribbed t-shirt that's stretched tightly across his chest under his open coat. I know he's handsome – and not just in a 'from a certain angle' way, but in a really obvious way – but tonight he looks stunningly gorgeous. It would be nice if he could find someone to take home tonight.
"Hey yourself," I reply, grinning broadly.
"Hi, Jacey – good to see you again," Mike says. I can see he's making a point of including Jacey in his conversation, and I'm grateful for that. He really does seem to be a very decent guy.
Jacey seems pleased, too, graciously returning Mike's greeting before we all head into the club. I'm surprised at how busy the club is for a weeknight, but remind myself that I'm often alone in my assessment of what constitutes a "reasonable hour" on a weeknight. If not for Jacey, I wouldn't be here tonight.
This club is smaller than Spin, the only other club I've been to in Chicago so far, and much smaller than Spin or XY in Seattle. Nevertheless, the DJ is as good as Mike said and the drink special is on till midnight. We go to the bar first and Mike and I each have a few shots – Jacey, still being underage, sticks to ginger ale. I can't help noticing that Mike makes a particular effort to make small talk with Jacey, asking him about Austin and the university campus, as well as how he's enjoying Chicago. Jacey, anchored comfortably in the crook of my arm, responds in kind, replying to Mike's questions pleasantly and asking a few of his own.
Soon Mike gestures toward the dance floor and suggests, "Well, shall we?"
Jacey smiles broadly. "Come on, Jackie," he urges. We all head to the floor and enjoy gyrating to the music. As Mike said, it's Retro Night. The DJ plays songs from my high school and college years, and it's a kick to hear them again. Jacey is a great dancer, moving comfortably to the familiar tunes and brushing often against me. I pull him close and remind him of the first time we danced together, the night we met in Austin. He grins broadly and grabs my hips, rubbing his groin against mine briefly. Mike and I exchange an amused smile. Mike seems a bit less comfortable dancing, a little more reserved, but is enjoying himself nonetheless.
After several songs go by, I hear a voice shouting my name over the throbbing music. I turn to find Karl dancing nearby with a group of his friends. "Hey, Karl," I reply, and make a few quick introductions. Our two groups gravitate towards each other to form a single group.
"Haven't seen you around in a couple of weeks," Karl eventually remarks to me.
Jacey is a few people away from us now, unable to hear our conversation but watching us. I smile at him before telling Karl, "I've had company."
Jacey, responding to my smile, sidles up to me and turns, rubbing his back against my chest as he weaves in time to the music. I slide my hands down his arms and take his hands in mine, lifting our arms over our heads and grinding with him. As much fun as I'm having, I'm getting hot and dying of thirst. I lean to put my mouth close to Jacey's ear. "I need a drink. Do you want something?"
"Just water, please," he replies. It's clear he plans to stay here on the dance floor while I head to the bar. I eye Karl, wondering whether it's a good idea to leave Jacey here with him - not that I have anything to hide, but the last thing I want is for him to say something that will make Jacey uncomfortable. In the end I decide it'll be fine. Karl was the one who told me a few weeks ago that he wasn't looking for anything but a casual fuck. I think he understands that discretion is important to me; I don't think I have to worry about him saying something inappropriate to Jacey.
"I'm going to go get another drink," I shout to Mike.
"I'll come with you," he replies, and we head through the crowd in the direction of the bar. As I stand and wait for one of the bartenders to get to us, I watch Jacey on the dance floor. For someone who often seems so gentle, the passionate nature of his soul can't be repressed when it comes to art or music...or dancing. He moves beautifully, lithe and graceful, with the music. He catches my eye and sends a gorgeous smile my way, prompting a similar reaction from me. As much as I'm enjoying being out with him, I can't wait to take him home. Again I'm struck by how quickly the week is passing.
I feel someone press against my ass and turn quickly to find Sam behind me. "Jack," he says, tipping his head to one side. "It's so good to see you here tonight."
"Hey, Sam," I reply.
"I was beginning to think it might never happen for us," he smiles, licking his lips seductively. "Is tonight the night?"
"No," I answer. "I'm here with someone."
He looks at Mike, who's watching our exchange. "Oh. Sorry," Sam tells him, not sounding the least bit sorry.
"It's not me," Mike replies dismissively, turning to the bartender who's now waiting to take our drink order.
I nod in the direction of the dance floor, where Jacey is also observing what's happening between Sam and me. Sam follows my gaze, and Jacey waves at me. It's clear he understands that I'm pointing him out to Sam as my date, effectively turning down Sam's advances.
"He's new," Sam observes.
"He's from out of town." I, too, give my order to the bartender. When I turn back to talk to Sam again, he has already turned and headed off in a new direction.
Mike meets my gaze and rolls his eyes. "Some guys just keep turning up, like a bad penny," I remark.
"Sometimes," he replies. "Though there's someone I went home with a few months ago, and damned if I've been able to find him again..."
"You've been looking for him?" I ask.
The bartender brings our drinks and Mike and I each toss back a shot before he replies. "Well...I wouldn't mind seeing him again, yeah. I thought we had a connection...or something. I don't know."
I grab another shot and lift my glass to him. "Here's to finding him again." He smiles and raises his glass to clink it against mine before we drink our shots. "Come on," I tell him. "Let's go back. I want to take Jacey's drink to him."
We start back in the direction of the dance floor, but as soon as my eyes light on Jacey I stop. Karl is saying something to him, and the expression on Jacey's face is not a happy one.
Not at all.
-o-
Oh. That's not good, is it. Chapter 12 will be in Jacey's POV and we'll get to hear what that conversation is about...and what comes next.
The Slash Awards nominations have been announced! Please check out the nominated stories at theslashawards dot blogspot dot com. Voting is open until March 21 so I encourage you to check out some of the stories you may not have read, before voting. :)
