All You Touch, page 14
“I don’t think we had one of those at my school,” Jakob said.
West snorted. “Oh, I guarantee you did, even if it was totally underground and unofficial. You know how we are—we always find each other.”
Jakob laughed and laid his hand over West’s arm, holding it against him tight. “Fair enough. I wasn’t ever invited to those sorts of things, but…it sounds like fun.”
“It was. It was also kind of tragic. The day before our trip was over, a friend shattered both his legs in a jet ski accident. We were way too drunk and way too fucking stupid. And he’s always said he doesn’t regret it, but I don’t know. I guess I wanted to start making better choices after that. I wasn’t at some big four-year college or anything, but I realized that wasn’t how I wanted to go out.”
“Community college? Really?” Jakob asked. He could easily see West at some Ivy League school, giving shit to all his professors, with a hundred friends who all wanted a piece of his time. And it felt like a gift even now that Jakob got any of it.
“It’s not something shameful, you know,” West snapped, going stiff.
Jakob offered him a mollifying kiss on the underside of his chin. “I would never, ever say that. I just made an assumption because that’s the kind of idiot I am.”
West relaxed a little and shrugged, then leaned forward against him a little harder. “I look ridiculous. You’re like four inches taller than me.”
“Are you on your tiptoes?” Jakob asked, then laughed when he realized West was. He turned and slipped his arms around his waist, kissing him before backing him up toward the bed. “Let’s get naked and fed. Then we can go back to the ennui of our lost years.”
West groaned, but he was smiling as he grabbed the bags, then shimmied out of the rest of his clothes. He was wearing boxer-briefs that hugged his waist and thighs, and Jakob never got tired of looking at him. He lifted the covers, and they both settled under the scratchy sheets and pulled the lids off their cheap, cheesy pasta.
“It’s not gourmet, but this is all I could think about that last hour,” West said, digging his teeth into a breadstick. His groan was almost pornographic, and in spite of his exhaustion, Jakob felt his cock take interest.
Digging his fork into the noodles, he allowed himself to take comfort in the rich, warm food. He hadn’t ever done this before. Even with Sandrine, they were always so fixated on having the best, on being the best, on looking the specific part. He was never allowed to be off, even in the privacy of their little flat with the curtains drawn.
This felt like the sweetest indulgence. Not nearly as good as the sandwiches and conversation in West’s deli, but damn close.
“I know I’m gonna pay for all this dairy later, but it was so worth it,” West said, giving his stomach a pat as he shoved the containers to the end of the bed. He stretched his arms up, then rolled into Jakob’s side and laid a thoughtless kiss against his ribs.
It was such a nothing gesture, but it hit Jakob like a physical blow, and his heart began to pound. Panic started creeping up his spine, made up of all the lies he was telling, and all the feelings that were trying to overwhelm him, and all the promises he was breaking. He didn’t realize he was hyperventilating until West was straddling him and cupping his face.
“Can you slow down your breaths?”
Jakob blinked, trying to process the words. “I…”
“Shallow, babe. Okay? Short and shallow.”
Jakob tried to obey, and after a few tries, his head stopped spinning. His limbs felt heavy though, and his throat was still tight. He swore he was on the verge of crying, and he wasn’t sure why. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know what the fuck just happened.”
“It happens to me sometimes. Panic attacks just show up out of fucking nowhere, and suddenly, I think I’m dying.”
Jakob sniffed, but he managed to hold back the tears, even as West leaned into him. He was far more broad than Jakob was, and the stubble on his chin was rough as it scraped along his collarbone, but he was perfect to hold, like he always belonged there.
“Do you want to talk about it?” West asked after a beat.
Jakob took in a shuddering breath. “Yes. But it’s a lot, and I’d rather wait until we get back to St. James. I’m dealing with a lot of shit in my life, and you should know about it.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” West started, but Jakob touched his chin and tilted his face up, kissing him quiet.
“I know that. But I like you. If there’s a way forward for us, I want to take it—but I can’t do that without…”
“Unpacking?” West asked.
Jakob laughed, because that was such a small word for all the truth he was going to have to spill, and all the forgiveness he was going to need to beg for. His only consolation was that he had never tried to be someone else with West. The lies were by omission, by letting West think he was someone else. But he was still the man West was falling for.
It probably wouldn’t be enough, but he was finally allowing himself some hope. They just needed to get through the weekend and let West visit with his dad without all of that hanging over him.
Jakob let out a breath, then kissed him again and again until West was hard. Again, until West was rutting against him and begging on a groan. And again, as West was shaking all over, and coming so hard he lost his ability to make any noise.
Then he kissed him one last time after they were cleaned up, curled around each other, and giving Jakob a peek into a future he wanted with a desperation he had never felt before.
13
The second half of the trip didn’t take as long as the first, though by the time they pulled onto his parents’ street, West started to feel a vague sense of panic rising in him. He appreciated what Jake had done. Hell, he needed it. He needed someone to bully him into facing the reality of the situation his family was in.
Something could be wrong with his dad. They could be facing down a ticking clock the moment his test results came in. And West understood the idea that someday he’d exist in a world where his parents were no longer alive, but he was hoping to have more years before he had to come face to face with it. Even if this was a near-miss, West knew he wouldn’t come out of it the same way again.
Every phone call from them after this would be lined with the fear of those words “There’s nothing the doctors can do.”
West came back to himself when a warm hand touched his jaw, and he turned his head to look at Jake. The man was more worn down than normal, and he’d been skirting some secret he promised to come clean with once they were back in St. James.
He knew it should have made him nervous, but the truth was, he was falling for this man. More than that, he was half in love with him. He tried to think of any reason in the world for Jake to be afraid to tell him the truth, and short of being married or a serial killer, he couldn’t come up with an unforgivable situation.
But he appreciated Jake for putting a pin in it. Everything was getting to the point of overwhelming, and he just wanted to focus on his dad for these few days. His time off was short, and he wanted to treasure these moments just in case they were some of the last.
Pressing his hand over Jake’s, West nuzzled into his palm, then let out a sigh. “My parents are a little old-school and uptight about non-married relationships. And honestly, it’s more of a production than anything. They really like to be dramatic.”
Jake laughed quietly. “So not at all like you?”
“Oh, fuck you very much,” West said with a snort, then shook his head. “Anyway, I’m out, so we don’t have to hide or anything. But I know we didn’t, like…define this between us, so if you want to just say we’re friends…”
“We’re more than friends, even if we don’t have a label,” Jake murmured, then pulled him in for a slow kiss. “But I’ll try to keep my PDA down.”
West laughed once more, then looked over and saw his mom watching from the window. “Fuck’s sake. Okay, we’ve been seen. This is probably going to suck for you, but um. But thank you for staying.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I just…please know that the only thing I want is to help make all this shit in your life less terrible.”
West’s smile softened, and he nodded as he reached for the door handle and pulled. “I do know.” That much he could tell. Whatever Jake was keeping to himself, West could tell his feelings were sincere. There was no reason for them not to be. West didn’t have a goddamn thing to his name apart from his little shop that was barely hanging on, and a shithole apartment that was about to be not his anymore.
What the hell else could he offer besides himself? Though he still wasn’t quite sure why that was enough for a man like Jake, he wasn’t going to question it too hard.
They grabbed their bags out of the back, and West led the way up the little driveway and into the house. It had been the last big thing his parents had managed to afford after the move from New York. They’d made a decent amount on their house, and he remembered his parents feeling relief with how much cheaper the real estate had been in New Mexico.
It was like a foreign country, moving that far southwest, but even as a teen, West had been grateful they could have a break. The money hadn’t lasted, and his parents never really earned more than they needed to live on, but they lived better here. And that continued even now.
His mom kept the house free of dust—her pet peeve—and his dad kept the garden pristine with vegetables that appeared at every single one of their home-cooked dinners. It smelled the same as it always did, and there was a sort of nostalgic rush sparking through his fingers and toes as he opened the door and brought Jake inside with him.
“This is it,” he said. The floors were polished clay tile, and the walls were still the rich blue they’d been painted when they bought the place. There weren’t a lot of doors, but it was open, with wide arches leading from room to room, and his mom had embraced the southwest theme in her décor. “The bedrooms are down the hall,” he said, waving his hand as they came around to the living room.
His mom was sitting on the sofa, acting like she hadn’t been staring through the curtains, and his dad was nowhere to be found. West rolled his eyes as she set her magazine down, and he opened his arms as she leaned into him. He’d outgrown her by the time he was twelve, and she was still dwarfed in his arms, but he felt small with her impossibly tight hug.
“Oh, my baby, you look underfed.”
West groaned and stepped back. “Please, not this weekend. You know I eat plenty.”
She hummed, her lips thinned, but she turned her attention to Jakob, who was definitely skinnier than him. “Are you not feeding the men in your life? West, I know I taught you better.”
West choked on his tongue for a second. “Fuck’s sake. Okay. Jake,” he breathed out, “this is my mom. Mom, this is Jake…fuck. I don’t even remember your last name.” Hell, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure he’d ever known.
“Oh, honey, it’s fine. I’m Iris,” she said primly, letting West go to offer her hand. When he took it, she used her strength to drag him into her arms for a hug, and he looked comically adorable all hunched over for her embrace. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jake. I’d say West has told us a lot about you, but you probably know that’s a lie.”
“Yeah, because it’s none of your business,” West muttered.
She smiled. “Well, it wasn’t. But now you’ve brought him home, so I can make it my business. And I can feed you both and make sure you’re getting enough sleep. Did West tell you about the basement?”
He passed his hand down his face, mouthing “fuck” into his palm, then offered Jake a grimace. “Yes, Mother. I did tell him you were sending him down to the basement so we wouldn’t be able to misbehave under your roof. Never mind that I’m almost thirty, and…”
“Oh, that will never matter.” She reached over and gave his cheek a pat. “Go introduce him to your dad. He’s in the garden having a fight with those horrible weeds that leave goatheads all over the yard.”
West grimaced. His dad only fought with weeds when he was stressed, and this time, West had nothing to offer him but fear and worry. All the same, he obeyed his mom, leading Jake through the kitchen and out the back. The yard was small, walled in, most of it fake grass, though his dad kept a patch of the real stuff—as he always called it—in the corner where he’d set up a little bistro table and umbrella. To the left of that was his vegetable garden that took up most of the usable space, and right now it looked like squash was climbing the walls.
His dad was there, on his knees in the dirt, a big floppy sunhat perched on his crown. He looked older, West thought. He looked more beat down.
Jake laughed softly next to him and brushed their elbows together. “I love your parents.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you had to be raised by them,” he replied. Then he saw something in Jake’s eyes—something like pain—and he wondered if maybe it wasn’t a tender subject. “Anyway…hey, Dad!”
His dad turned, then smiled, and West could see his own reflection in the man’s reflective aviators. He pushed to his feet with a groan, and West noticed then he looked thin. Unnaturally thin. His heart gave a painful thud against his chest, and fear began to rise in his throat.
Swallowing it down, he let his dad take him into a hug, holding tighter than he really meant to. His dad clung back even tighter and let out a sigh. “You know it’s gonna be fine, right?”
West nodded, squeezing once more before stepping back. “I know. Medical technology is like…crazy good these days. I’m not worried about it.” The lie was bitter in his mouth, but he didn’t care. “How’s the harvest?”
His dad’s face brightened. “Good. Some nice zucchini for tonight.” He turned his head after that, and in spite of his eyes being shaded, it was obvious he was giving Jake a once-over. “How old are you, son?”
“I…” Jake said, a little startled.
West stepped in front of him. “Yeah, not this weekend, okay?”
His dad groaned but put his hands up in surrender. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“No, you’re being a nosy ass, and Jake was kind enough to take all this time off work to drive me here. So just say it’s nice to meet you and move on with your life. Mom put him in the basement, anyway.”
His dad laughed, then stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “Myron. It is nice to meet you.”
Jake shook his hand, then gave him his own appraising look. “I hope I’m not out of line when I say you look a lot like Abraham.”
His dad froze, then drew his hand away slowly. “You knew him?”
“We all did. I mean, all the kids in St. James knew him. He always had free cookies, and he painted snow on the window of the deli every November because he knew most of the kids there had never seen it a single day in their lives.” Jake smiled softly, and West felt his heart lean in toward this man just a little more. He hadn’t known that about Abraham, and he wished he had. He wished someone had said so he could have kept up the tradition.
His dad stared at him a long time, then took his glasses off. He looked tired, but his eyes were dry, and he didn’t look as sad as he had last time they talked about Abraham’s death. “He was probably my favorite family member. At least, until this one and his sister came along.” He elbowed West gently. “I’m glad he had something like a family though.”
Jake looked uncomfortable at that, like maybe it wasn’t entirely true, but his dad didn’t seem to notice. He had that look on his face he always got when he was being tugged at by old memories.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you get back to your weeds, and I’m gonna show Jake the dungeon,” West said, reaching for his hand.
As their palms connected, his dad let out a chuckle. “Don’t let him fool you. He made out with his first real boyfriend down in that dungeon. I walked in on them heavy petting to Interview With the Vampire.”
“Oh my god,” West groaned, pulling a laughing Jake faster. They made it through the patio door and managed to avoid his mom, who was now on the phone, pacing the living room. The door to the basement was in the hall, almost unobtrusive. In fact, most people missed it, which was always to his benefit when he was a teen and wanted to be left alone.
His dad hadn’t been lying about the boyfriend thing. He was dating a football player on the sly—a straight-up Stetson-wearing cowboy whose parents owned a ranch. He was also a running back for their varsity team and was being scouted by some agents the last half of the school’s football season.
He also had a girlfriend—a perky blonde named Courtney, and months after they broke up, he confessed to West that he’d used all the skills he developed sucking West’s dick to teach her how to give better blowjobs.
Some days, West wondered how that guy was doing. If he and Courtney got married and had a bunch of babies—if he ever made anything out of his football career. But most of the time, West just wanted to forget. He’d grown up in a small house, poor and unmotivated to do much with his life. And though the deli had fallen into his lap, it was more a symptom of his indecision than anything else.
“So,” Jake said when the door closed behind them and they descended the stairs. It was dark and a little musty, but when he flicked on the lights, he could see the place had been well-kept. There were some deflated pink and white balloons, and he was pretty sure his mother had set up his sister’s last baby shower there—which was three years before. “This is where the magic happened?”
West rolled his eyes, then let Jake’s hand go as he walked into the middle of the room. The old, beat-up leather sofa was still there and the box-shaped TV he wasn’t sure worked anymore. There was a ping-pong table folded up along the far wall, and the door to his old bedroom was propped open.
“I thought it was pretty badass at the time,” he told Jake, flicking on the light in the bedroom. The bed was made up and fresh, and there was a fan in the corner circulating the stale basement air. “It was like having an apartment all to myself. I think my mom was just tired of being able to hear me rub one out.”
