by C. B. Lewis
“And you didn’t need to fold my laundry.” Jacob handed him the plate. “Let’s call it even.”
Kit cleared his plate in a matter of minutes. For a skinny rake of a man, he didn’t seem to have any trouble with his appetite. He set the plate down on the floor and resumed his work on the laundry basket.
Jacob watched him as he continued eating.
The way Kit folded the clothes was just as methodical as the way he’d gone over the gate. Each thing was folded into a neat rectangle, which fitted in a nice, neat stack of rectangles, which were arranged in the bottom of the laundry basket.
“Why did you invite me here?”
The question came after minutes of silence, and Jacob blinked. “What?”
Kit smoothed out a T-shirt over on his lap, turning it into another tidy rectangle with four quick folds. “You could’ve seen me home. You know where I live. Why’d you decide to bring me back here?”
Jacob leaned down to pick up Kit’s plate. “If I hadn’t, you’d have been going home alone, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
Blue eyes looked up at him. “You said it yourself, that this is too complicated.”
Jacob nodded. “But tonight, it’s simple: you shouldn’t be alone.” He offered a tired smile. “No funny business. Just company.”
Kit gazed at him for a long time, then nodded. “Company.” He glanced over at the media unit. “If that thing works, we could watch something.”
“If it works?” Jacob said indignantly.
For a moment, Kit’s eyes glinted with a little of their usual mischief. “Just checking.”
Jacob sighed, shaking his head. “Arsehole.”
Kit bowed his head over the basket, but Jacob saw the brief smile. He left him to finish the laundry and returned to the kitchen with the plates. It took all of five minutes to fill up the dishwasher and tidy up the surfaces.
By the time he returned, the laundry was all folded, and Kit was on his feet. He was standing beside the bookshelf, looking at the display of photographs as the frames flicked from image to image.
“He’s a good-looking man, your son.” He didn’t turn.
Jacob approached him, looking at the array of pictures. They showed Luke at various ages. Pride of place was given to his graduation photograph, his face split in a beaming grin. “He turned out well.”
“A doctor?”
Jacob smiled, nodded. “He likes looking after people.”
Kit darted a glance at him. “Wonder who he gets that from. He doesn’t live near here, does he?”
Jacob shook his head. “London. Where I came from before here. He visits every couple of months.”
Kit laid his fingers on the edge of the shelf. “My family’s all down Brighton way.” He frowned at his fingers, pressing them until the tips went white. “They worry, y’know, me being all the way up here on my own. No one nearby to check on me. Bet your family worry too.”
And that was a topic Jacob didn’t want to think about.
Luke might worry, but the rest of the family was a different matter. He could remember the last time he’d seen them, and the reason he hadn’t seen them since then.
“Well,” he said, “we’re not on our own tonight.” He laid his hand lightly on Kit’s shoulder. “How about we find something to watch?”
In the end, the easiest option was something they both knew and liked. Monty Python might well have been older than either of them, but it was something they could appreciate without having to engage their brains.
Jacob wasn’t surprised when Kit curled against him on the couch.
Less than halfway through the film Kit’s head drooped against his shoulder, and Jacob could feel the younger man listing sideways against him. He stopped the film, then gently pressed his hand to Kit’s shoulder.
“You need to sleep.”
Kit squinted at him. “I’ll take the couch.”
Jacob shook his head. “It’s not big enough. You’ll put your back out.” He slipped his hand under Kit’s elbow. “Come on. My bed’s big enough for both of us, and I promise I won’t bite.”
“Shame.”
Jacob smothered the smile. Even when Kit was miserable and exhausted, there was still some part of the shameless flirt there. He slipped his arm around Kit’s waist, supporting him all the way to the bedroom.
Compared to Kit’s expansive bedroom, Jacob’s room looked bare. There was a chair in one corner, stacked with clothes, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and the bed, which was flanked by mismatched bedside cabinets. Still, it was warm and it was comfortable, and that was all a man really needed.
Kit paused in the doorway and looked at him. “You really don’t want anything to happen tonight?” His pupils were wide and dark.
“Not tonight. You need to rest.”
Kit nodded and stepped forward into the room, pulling his T-shirt over his head and dropping it at the foot of the bed. He hooked his thumbs over the waistband of his trousers, then paused. “Starkers, or do you need my boxers to protect your virtue?”
In the doorway, Jacob leaned against the frame. “Whatever you want. Just as long as you’re comfortable.”
Trousers and boxers promptly landed in a heap on the floor.
Kit glanced back at him. “No funny business,” he said quietly, looking vulnerable and very young, “but can I lie with you?”
Jacob walked into the room, letting the door slide shut behind him. “Of course.”
Kit reached for the buttons of Jacob’s shirt, fumbling to undo them. As soon as the shirt gaped wide enough, he wrapped his arms around Jacob’s waist and dropped his head to rest on Jacob’s shoulder, pressing their chests together, bare skin on skin.
Kit’s breath gusted against Jacob’s shoulder, and he lifted a hand to stroke through the younger man’s hair. “Come on,” he murmured. “Get to bed. I’m here.”
Kit nodded. “Sorry.”
He started to pull back, but Jacob caught his wrist. “Don’t apologize.” Kit looked at him in tired confusion. “You’ve got nothing to feel sorry for. You’ve lost someone. You’re allowed to be upset.” He brought his other hand up to cup Kit’s cheek. “You’re going to be all right.”
“Yeah?”
Jacob nodded and leaned closer, kissing him. It was gentle and it was chaste, but Kit shivered all the same. “Yes.”
Chapter 26
KIT JOLTED awake with a gasp.
The nightmare had left his heart racing, and he was shaking. He called out for light, but the lamps didn’t come on, and it took him a moment to remember why. He wasn’t in his own home. That was why. He wasn’t in his own bed. And that wasn’t his hand on his side.
He sank back down on the bed. “Shit,” he whispered.
“Bad dream?” Jacob’s voice was a sleepy murmur.
Kit nodded into the darkness.
Jacob’s fingertips pressed lightly to his side. “C’mere.”
“It’s okay,” Kit whispered. “Don’t need to.”
Jacob pulled a little more insistently. “C’mere,” he said again, voice thickened with a yawn.
Kit turned over to face him, sliding across the space between them. The sheets were cool where neither of them had been lying, but Jacob was warm and almost naked. Jacob moved his hand and buried it in Kit’s hair, fingers stroking along his scalp.
“Better?”
Kit sprawled beside him, and the chill that had washed through him eased a little. “Mm.” He settled himself there, his arm curving on Jacob’s broad chest, fingers toying with the dark mat of curls.
Jacob continued to stroke through his hair, then downward, kneading lazily at Kit’s neck and shoulders, until the tension was almost completely gone. Kit laid his head on Jacob’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart and feeling the ribs rise and fall beneath his ear.
“Wanna tell me?”
Kit shivered. “I saw what happened to Tom, when the g
ate….” The words stuck in his throat, and the image felt like it was seared onto his retina. “Like I was standing there and saw him get disintegrated.”
Jacob’s hand went still. “That’s what would happen?” He sounded more awake now, and horrified. “If the gate were damaged?”
Kit nodded, releasing a shivering breath. “Best guess.” He splayed his hand suddenly on Jacob’s chest. “Poof.”
“Jesus.” Jacob tightened his arm around Kit’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
Kit reached up and clasped Jacob’s hand where it was holding his arm. “Wasn’t you.”
Jacob squeezed his arm. “I put you in a situation where you had to look into that as a possible result. That’s not the way you should have found out about it.”
“You didn’t know,” Kit murmured, tracing a circle in the middle of Jacob’s chest with the tip of his index finger. The curls were soft to the touch, and he smoothed them out and felt them spring back beneath his finger. He tilted his head and pressed a brief kiss to Jacob’s collarbone. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Not leaving me on my own.” Kit leaned up to try and search out Jacob’s face in the darkness, but he couldn’t see a thing. He frowned in the dark. “You’ve got bloody good curtains.”
Jacob chuckled. He called for light and the bedside lamp illuminated softly. “Night duty,” he said by way of explanation. He looked up at Kit, who was propped up over him. “Any reason you need it?”
Kit tried to smile, but it faltered. “Just wanted to see you too. Remind myself I’m not alone.”
Jacob reached up and mussed his hair. “How about that?”
Kit leaned back from his touch and had to fight down a tired smile. “Piss off.”
Jacob was struggling not to smile too, his dimples showing in sharp relief. “We need to make sure,” he said, then flicked at Kit’s earlobe. Kit tried to duck, bringing himself down lower over the other man. He lost his balance and ended up sprawled on Jacob’s chest, and Jacob laughed out a gusting breath. “Convinced yet?”
Their faces were so close, and Kit could feel every breath, from the ribs rising and falling against his, to the soft puffs of air against his lips. He stared blankly at Jacob and knew he should back right the hell off, because Christ, they’d both agreed no funny business, no carrying on, just company.
Jacob’s hand was in his hair again, a warm weight against the back of his neck. He swayed downward, stifling a quiet moan when their mouths met again.
It wasn’t the height of romance, not when they both had morning breath, and their lips were dry, but none of that mattered. Jacob arched his head up from the pillow and Kit’s mouth was open and greedily demanding his kiss. It was dry and it was breathless, and Kit gasped out loud when Jacob rolled them suddenly. Kit was on his back, pinned in place by the other man, and Jacob was kissing him like he never wanted to stop.
Kit clutched at him, fingers scrabbling up and down Jacob’s back. He pressed his feet to the bed beneath him, pushing his hips up demandingly, and felt the answering rock of Jacob’s body against his. He still had his bloody boxers on.
Kit tried to concentrate on that problem, but it was getting difficult with Jacob stealing every little breath he took. In the end, he did the only thing he could think of and pinched Jacob sharply on the arse.
Jacob pulled back, looking both amused and offended. “What?”
Kit pressed his hand low on Jacob’s back. “Too many clothes.”
Jacob glanced down his body, then back at Kit. “We’re shit at this whole restraint thing, aren’t we?”
Kit tugged at the waistband of Jacob’s boxers again. “Speak for yourself. I never said anything about being restrained.” He looked up at Jacob. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
Jacob leaned down and kissed him again. “Want isn’t the issue here.”
Kit slid his fingertips beneath the waistband of the boxers. “Yeah?”
In response, Jacob just kissed him again, then pushed himself back up on his knees and shoved the offending shorts down and out of the way. Kit looked the man over, and this was what he liked to see. But more than that, this was what he wanted and desperately needed to push the nightmares back.
“Y’could put someone’s eye out with that thing, if you’re not careful,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows.
Jacob leaned down over him. “And whose fault is that?” He caught Kit’s hair with one hand and claimed his mouth again in another heated kiss. Kit slid his hands between them and wrapped his hand around Jacob’s hardening cock, giving it a squeeze. Jacob groaned into his mouth and pushed against his hand.
Kit broke back from the kiss, breathing hard. “You got johnnies?”
Jacob stared at him blankly. “Crap.”
Kit couldn’t help grinning. “My jeans. Back pocket.”
“You’re kidding.”
Kit shrugged expressively. “You never know your luck.” He held up three fingers in the Scout salute. “Always be prepared.”
Jacob shook his head with a rueful smile. “You’re making me feel like a disorganized old man,” he said as he crawled back across the bed and reached down onto the floor to retrieve Kit’s jeans.
Kit stretched out his leg, poking Jacob’s backside with his toe. “Vintage.” He couldn’t help smiling as Jacob shot a mock glare over his shoulder. “Mature.” He gave another more emphatic poke. “Like cheese.”
Jacob whipped around, quick as a snake, and caught his ankle in an iron grip. “Ah, ah.” His voice was a low, rich purr and the look in his eyes made Kit feel like his blood had turned to molten steel. “My bed. My rules.”
“Yeah?” Kit pushed himself up onto one elbow. “What do you want to do?”
Jacob’s grip on his ankle tightened. “I have a few ideas.”
Before Kit could think or say anything, Jacob jerked his ankle hard enough to throw him off balance and flipped him onto his stomach. He fell facedown among the pillows and exclaimed in surprise, but when he braced his hands against the mattress and pushed himself up, he was neatly pinned to the bed.
The older man was over him, knees straddling his thighs, and he brought his lips close to Kit’s ear. “What do you fancy?” His voice was little more than a breath. His hands settled on Kit’s shoulders, kneading slowly.
Kit dropped his head forward. He had no idea. He only knew he wanted something that wasn’t a nightmare, something to push away the afterimages. He curled his fingers into the bedding. “Distract me.”
He shuddered pleasantly when those broad, strong hands slid down his back, massaging every knotted inch, leeching the tension from him. It almost would have been innocent, except for the way Jacob’s fingers kept brushing his arse before moving back up.
Kit was squirming in moments, trying to demand more than those fleeting touches. “Bloody tease,” he complained cheerfully. He managed to wriggle enough to get himself onto his knees, pushing his arse up demandingly.
“Sometimes,” Jacob agreed, sitting back on his heels, his fingers tracing the curve of Kit’s buttock. “Could do with some KY.”
Kit tilted his head to slant a glance through his hair, grinning. “Oh, so no johnnies, but not entirely useless?”
“I’m single, not celibate,” Jacob snorted and swatted him sharply on the arse. It was a light smack, but the sting of it sent a rush of heat straight to Kit’s head, and he yelped aloud. Jacob went still, then gently brushed his fingers against the tingling skin. “Sorry.”
Kit swallowed hard. It wasn’t something he’d done before. Hadn’t really been in with an adventurous crowd back in the day. Hadn’t thought about it really, either, but now, with his arse feeling warm and pink under Jacob’s hand, he was suddenly thinking about it very clearly.
“Kit?” Jacob sounded concerned.
Jesus. Well, there was something to find out for the first time….
“Do that again,” he whispered into his arms, burying his face in them.
He could feel the blush spreading across his shoulders. The rate it was going, every inch of him would be scarlet and his knob would be as limp as an overcooked noodle, but Christ, it felt good once, and maybe….
Jacob only hesitated for a second, then smacked him again. Not just the fingers this time. The palm, and the sound, the sharpness, the stinging heat made Kit shudder from head to toe. And then Jacob made it worse by tracing his fingers across the tingling flesh.
“Like that?”
“Mm.” Kit caught his breath when Jacob used his nails instead. “Jesus….”
Jacob leaned over him again, bracing his hands on either side of Kit’s arms, and nuzzled at his shoulder. “Didn’t know you were into that.”
Kit tilted his head enough to see Jacob through the tangled strands of his hair. “Well, when you know what comes after a spanking….”
There was a brief, puzzled silence, then Jacob actually laughed aloud. “Mm. And I know you like that.”
Kit’s cheeks hurt from grinning, and he buried his head back in his arms. He shuddered again when Jacob smacked him firmly, and just a little harder. The heat rushed through him, and he groaned, shifting his hips.
Jacob shifted back behind him, and both his hands caught Kit by the hips, pulling him up onto his knees. Big hands, so broad his thumbs met over Kit’s tailbone. He slid his thumbs up Kit’s back, then dragged his hands back down.
Each time he slid his hands up, they moved just enough, until Jacob’s fingers raked down over Kit’s chest, teasing across his nipples, over his ribs, curving down Kit’s belly to almost touch his cock. He shifted the pressure, changed from firm to light, and by the last stroke of his hands, he was barely even skimming Kit’s skin, leaving it thrumming in anticipation.
Kit couldn’t help arching like a cat, sharp demanding sounds escaping him. His whole body was tingling with sensations, and Jesus, his head was spinning with overstimulation.
As if reading his mind, Jacob smacked him suddenly on the other buttock. It was hard, after light and teasing touches, and the delicious surprise of it made Kit yelp, only made worse when Jacob cupped his arse with both hands and squeezed.
