Friends and Lovers Page 7

  James looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen the brightness in Jack’s eyes. “And that was when you hit him?”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Yeah. I lost my temper. I never… Tom will never forgive me for this.”

  “You don’t think?”

  He gave an unhappy laugh. “What guy wants a… a boyfriend who blows up and punches him?”

  “When you put it like that… no one who’s playing with a full deck. But Jack… Tom didn’t lock the door. And trust me, he didn’t hit you as hard as he could have. If he had...” James leaned his elbows on the table and studied the man before him. “I think he was glad, deep down, that you came back. I think he was hoping you would.” And James was pretty sure the fact that he was so happy to see Jack scared him shitless. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll let the department know Tom will be out for a few days. Call his mother tomorrow…”

  “No, that’s okay, I’ll stay with him. I haven’t had a vacation in a while, and I have a foreman who’ll keep things going. Besides, there isn’t anything that can’t wait until Tom’s able to go back to work.”

  “Taking care of Tom when he isn’t feeling well is not a fun task, my friend. I speak from experience,” he added innocently, pleased when Jack scowled at him.

  “I don’t mind. He’d do it for me.”

  “All right.” James rose to his feet. “You have my phone number. Call if you have any problems, although I don’t foresee any.”

  “Thanks very much, James. For coming here. For listening to me yammer on.”

  “Glad I could be of some help. I think you’ll be good for Tom. He’s been alone for a very long time.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s the most popular guy I know. He’s got a new guy every…”

  “But he doesn’t have a lot of friends, Jack. And he only has one best friend.”

  “Me?” Jack’s eyes lit up.

  “You.” James patted the shoulder that wasn’t sore, picked up his medical bag, and dug his car keys out of his pocket. “Goodnight, Jack.”

  “’Night, James.”

  Funny how it seems I always wind up here with you… Karen Carpenter

  Jack closed the door behind the doctor, but not before he’d seen a curtain in the house next door twitch. He sighed. Tom wasn’t going to be happy that Mrs. Wiggins had been witness to the late-night activity going on in his house.

  What a night.

  Oh, well. He’d worry about the nosy woman the next morning.

  He went to check on his friend. Tom was frowning in his sleep, and Jack sat beside him, stroking his hair and shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy.”

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah. It’s me.”

  Tom opened his eyes. They were foggy from the drug. “Sorry…”

  “I didn’t mean to wake you. Let me make you a little more comfortable, then you can go back to sleep.” Jack helped his friend sit up, enjoying the muscular feel of him in his arms, more so than he’d enjoyed the softness of a woman, he realized. He turned the pillow, gave it a thump, and started to ease Tom back down, but Tom held onto his arms.

  “Stayin’?”

  “Yeah, I’m staying.”

  “Glad.” Tom sighed.

  “Me, too.”

  “Sleep now.” He relaxed into Jack’s arms.

  “Okay. You go on back to sleep, buddy.” Jack lowered him to the pillow and brushed a kiss across his forehead. “I’m gonna lock up the house, take a shower, and bring that big old armchair in here. I won’t be more than three feet away from you if you need me.”

  “Always need you. Jack.” Tom patted the bed beside him. “Sleep here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “’m sure.” And now Tom patted the bare expanse of skin exposed by Jack’s open shirt. He mumbled something Jack had no trouble translating.

  “I won’t leave you, buddy.” He waited until his friend’s breathing had smoothed out into sleep. “I’ll be here in the morning. It’s gonna take more than you getting sore and pitching a fit to force me out of your life. I love you, Tommy. I’ll always love you.”

  Maybe one day he’d even be able to say that when his best friend was awake.

  Jack pulled the sheet up so Tom wouldn’t get chilled, then went to lock up the house.

  Chapter 4

  Flu Season

  Tom Hansom was busy at the stove frying up chicken for dinner when someone rang his doorbell. “Now, who can that be, I wonder?” he asked himself, grinning.

  He knew who it was at the door.

  Still, he made a production of turning down the flame under the frying pan and wiping his hands on a dish towel before he strolled to the door. He moved aside the curtain that covered the window in the door and peered out. Then he opened the door.

  “As Ah live an’ breathe!” he declared, thickening his Georgia accent. “If it ain’t Jack Sweet, an’ in the flesh! What can Ah do for you, Mistah Sweet?”

  The smile that warmed Jack’s blue eyes made Tom want to strip off all his clothes. Who would have thought he’d ever be willing to bottom for anyone?

  Jack tipped back a non-existent hat with his thumb. “Afternoon, there, Mistah Hansom. Ah hope Ah haven’t caught y’all at an inconvenient moment?”

  “Not at all, not at all. Come right on in an’ rest a spell.”

  “Thank you kindly, suh.”

  As soon as Jack was in the kitchen, Tom shoved the door shut and reached for him, not even giving him a chance to take off his jacket.

  A couple of times during the week he’d awakened to find himself reaching for Jack. Tom loved having him as his lover, but he loved him as his friend too, and he wasn’t willing to lose that. He’d insisted, and Jack had agreed, that they only see each other on the weekend. The only thing that had kept him from calling Jack had been that he’d see himself as a candy-ass. That, plus the knowledge that the weekend was on its way, and he could stick it out a few more days.

  “God, I missed you, buddy!” He pulled Jack’s head down and kissed him, licking and biting at his lips until they parted for him, and then slipping his tongue into Jack’s mouth.

  Jack’s hands were on his ass, kneading the taut muscle, and he rotated his hips, the motion bringing their cocks into contact, separated only by the material of their jeans and shorts. The soft sounds of their excitement – whimpers, gasps, moans – filled the small kitchen.

  They were both breathless by the time they broke the kiss.

  Jack didn’t let him go though. He rested his cheek against Tom’s hair and sighed. “I’ve missed you too, babe.”

  Tom held onto Jack a bit longer, then dropped his arms and stepped back. “You’re staying for dinner, right?” He went to the stove, poked at the chicken in the pan, and turned up the flame.

  “Do you have enough? I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Asshole. I’ll always have enough for you.” Even if he himself had to go short.

  “Thanks. I was hoping you’d ask.”

  “There’s some wine in the fridge. Pour yourself a glass, why don’t you?” Tom already had one on the counter by the stove.

  He turned over the chicken, which was browning nicely, and dredged more pieces in flour.

  Jack removed his jacket and hung it from a hook by the door. When he opened the fridge, he started laughing. “Manischewitz?”

  “Hey, I’m Jewish. And you’re a redneck wine snob!”

  “Pax, pax!” Still laughing, Jack poured himself a glass of the sweet red wine and took a long swallow. He sighed again, but this one was satisfied. “I needed that.”

  “Even though it’s Manischewitz?”

  “Yeah, even though it’s Manischewitz.”

  Tom studied at him carefully. Jack looked a little worn. “Bad week?”

  “Bitch of a week.”

  “Sit down and tell me about it, Jack. What was it, work or family?”

  He sat, rotating the glass between his palms. “A bit of both. Reba
’s been hassling me about Teddy and Cath sleeping in the same room when they stay with me.”

  “What are you going to do?” Tom didn’t know Jack’s kids well; he’d been to some of Theodore’s Little League games and to his graduation from elementary school, and he’d gone to a couple of horse shows where he’d watched Catherine take jumps that had his heart in his mouth – the jumps had been so huge, and she’d been so tiny – but he was willing to swear that whatever their mother, sanctimonious prig that she was, thought they might do was actually the last thing in the world they would do.

  Still, he couldn’t forget that Jack had once chosen her over him, and so he tried to make a point of never saying anything bad about her. Most times he even succeeded.

  “I’ve been giving it some thought. My bedroom is the largest in the house. I’ll make it into two smaller rooms and let the kids have them, and I’ll take the room they’re using.”

  “You’re a good father, Jack.” Tom could see he was uncomfortable with the praise. “You are. My father would sooner…” His mouth tightened. “Well, never mind about him. Do you need any help?”

  Jack smiled at him. “Tommy, I love you, but you are not coming anywhere near my house with a hammer.”

  “Hey!” But Tom laughed. He knew Jack was aware he wasn’t too handy with tools.

  Jack took another sip of wine and grimaced at the sweet taste. “I should have brought something.”

  “You didn’t know what I was going to make.”

  “I could have brought a red and a white.”

  “You could have. And I could have told you I didn’t have enough for two, and you’d have had to go home with two bottles of wine.”

  “Yeah, sure, like you would turn me away.”

  Jack was looking around the kitchen, so he didn’t see Tom’s reaction to that. No, he would never turn his best friend away. Never.

  “What can I do to help?”

  Tom shook himself. “There’s some corn in the fridge. You can shuck a couple of ears if you’re feeling ambitious.”

  “Sure thing.” Jack got the corn from the crisper and brought them to the sink. He tore the husk from an ear and washed off the silk.

  “So, what else is going on, buddy?”

  Jack snapped off both ends, then went to work on the second ear of corn. “This is strictly between us, okay?”

  Tom gave him a look.

  “Okay.” Jack had the grace to appear sheepish. “One of my suppliers may be going belly up. Franklin and Son.”

  “Franklin? Would the ‘son’ be Billy Bob Franklin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I went to school with him. He was an asshole then.”

  “He’s still an asshole. Old Mr. Franklin retired a couple of years ago. He turned the business over to Billy Bob and moved down to Florida.”

  “Billy Bob always used to complain about having to help out. He liked having the cash to spend, but he hated having to get his hands dirty.”

  “He still doesn’t like it. Since he took over, it’s been going downhill – supplies not on time, and when they are, really poor quality stuff, cheap and shoddy. I hate having to cut ties with them. Mr. Franklin was one of the first suppliers who came on board when I started the business, but…”

  “You have your own customers you have to keep in mind.”

  “Yeah. I can’t let them suffer because Billy Bob Franklin is a jerk.”

  “Jack, will finding a new supplier be a scramble for you?”

  “Not really. I’ve kind of been expecting this, and I’ve had my eye on another company. I really wish I didn’t have to do this, though.”

  That was Jack, loyal to the bitter end. Tom came over and patted him on the shoulder. “The water’s boiling, buddy. Put the corn in.”

  He watched as Jack obeyed him.

  Jack was a big man, but that wasn’t why he’d always had to be in charge. His father had pounded that into him. It was his responsibility, as the man of the house, as the father, as the businessman. He’d never been able to let go, let someone else take control.

  Even in school he’d had to be careful not to let go of that control for fear of hurting someone. The first time they’d met, during a football game of shirts and skins, he’d gotten caught up in the game and tackled Tom.

  Tom grinned. He wasn’t much taller now than he’d been then, and Jack had been horrified that he’d done him a serious injury. Of course he hadn’t, beyond a scraped knee and both elbows. Tom was short, but he was tough.

  Maybe he could offer his best friend a little space of time when he didn’t have to be in control.

  “Jack? Do you trust me?”

  “You know I do, buddy.”

  Tom smiled. He turned down the flame under the chicken. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

  Tom could never remember seeing that particular expression on Jack’s face. “You want to… want to fuck me?”

  “Jack, you’re a handsome man with a fantastic body. I’d have to be dead not to want to make love to you.” Deliberately he used the same words Jack had used to him when he’d asked for a favor.

  Jack seemed uncertain.

  “You’ve liked having my finger up your ass.” Tom tried to reassure him.

  “Ye-yes.” Jack licked his lips.

  “You know I won’t hurt you.”

  “Yes.” This response was more confident.

  “All you’ll have to do is lie back and enjoy it. And you know I’ll make it good for you.”

  “Yes. All right, babe. You’ve talked me into it. When do we get started?”

  “Jack?” Tom blinked at him.

  “Did you think I’d say ‘no’? Tommy, I’ll never say ‘no’ to you. I’ve sucked your cock, I’ve eaten your ass. To tell you the truth, I’ve been kind of wondering what your cock would feel like inside me. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever ask to do that.” Jack finished his wine, then set the glass on the table. “What took you so long?”

  “What…” For a second, Tom couldn’t get a word out. Then, “What took me??” He leaned forward, grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt and dragged him across the table, and kissed him hard. “Y’know something, Jack Sweet? The only reason why I’m not taking you on this table right here and now is because I want your first time to be memorable.”

  Jack grinned at him. “Does that mean we’re going to do this more than once?”

  “Oh, Jack, do not toy with the Leather Daddy!”

  Jack just kept grinning. “If you say so, buddy.”

  Tom growled. “Let’s go!”

  Tom lay on his back, gazing up at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. His arm was around his lover, and he could still feel the aftershocks of Jack’s orgasm rippling through him. That had been…

  “My… my god!” Jack’s head was on the pillow beside Tom’s, and his breathing was just starting to come back under control. “That… that was…”

  “Fantastic? Marvelous? The best thing since sliced bread?”

  Jack’s laugh blew across Tom’s ear, and Tom shivered, enjoying the feel of it.

  “All that and more. Seriously, babe, you made it so good for me.”

  “I’m glad, Jack.” He was especially glad he could put to good use all the things he’d learned over the years. “You’re not sore?”

  “No. Oh, I know I’ve had your cock in my ass, but I’m definitely not sore. Thanks, babe.” He tipped Tom’s head toward his and kissed him, then sighed happily. “I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in a long time. How did you know I needed to be able to give up control?”

  “Leather daddies know things like that.” He ran his palm up and down Jack’s arm. “You take care of so many people. You deserve to have someone…” He paused and sniffed the air. “Do you smell something?”

  “Burning? Now that you mention it…”

  “Oh, shit! The chicken!” Tom bolted out of bed, not even bothering to grab up his boxers from where they’d been flung on the floor. Jack’s laughter fo
llowed him into the kitchen, which was foggy with smoke.

  It wasn’t the chicken, although it was crispier than Tom normally liked it. He turned off the flame and moved the pan onto a different burner, then switched on the fan above the stove, hoping it would dispel the smoke and the odor.

  It was the pot of corn, with its water evaporated away.

  Jack stood in the doorway, looking shamefaced. He took some potholders and carried the pot to the sink. “I’m sorry, Tom. This was my fault.”

  “No, it wasn’t. If you’ll remember, I forgot to turn off the chicken, and if that had burned, we would definitely have needed to get out of here until the place aired out.”

  “But still…”

  “Jack, weren’t you supposed to not be in control? Forget about it.”

  “But you wanted to make corn with dinner.”

  “I should have some Birds Eye in the freezer. That will do. Did I ever tell you about the time I started making hardboiled eggs, forgot about them, and went to class? Wow, talk about a stink!”

  As he hoped, that made Jack laugh.

  “Okay, people, that’s a class. Have a good weekend, and try to stay healthy.”

  There were mild groans and halfhearted laughter, and Tom watched as the last of his students trickled out of the chem lab. Their numbers had been down by more than half this week, most of them out with the flu, and he had no doubt that even more of them would be out sick over the next few weeks.

  This looked like it was going to be a nasty flu season, and it was barely November yet.

  He packed up his books and papers and left Pulaski and Jasper College for the drive home.

  Jack was supposed to come over for dinner, and he was in the mood to fire up the pressure cooker and make him beef stew. Having his best friend for a lover was the most amazing thing. Sometimes he wondered why it had taken them so long to hook up.

  The phone was ringing as he let himself into his small house, and he went to the kitchen to answer it. “Hansom.”

  “Tom, it’s…”

  “Jack! Hi, buddy. I was just thinking about making you dinner.”