He shook his head and began to check everything ran smoothly. He still liked Dean and would always be his friend, but right now, he just wanted to finish and get away from him.
* * * * *
“Stay for a beer.”
The time was a little after four. The owner had collected the Cooper along with the invoice, thanks to Jay, and the other guys then decided to call it quits for the day. Dean nipped out back and brought them all a cold beer. They didn’t tend to keep alcohol on the premises, but these guys all lived locally and mostly walked in to work to save on costs, so they wouldn’t be driving. He treated them once in awhile, and they certainly had earned it with the extra hours they put in this month.
Now, they were good naturedly jeering at Jay to join them for a beer. They said they wanted to hear the story of what calamity Jay had saved Dean from this time. Dean just shook his head, smiling.
“If any of this gets back to my father, I’ll know who talked.”
“As if we’d do that, mate.” John, eight years his senior, said jovially. “Next thing you know, your dad would be trying to drag one of us in there to learn the paperwork and we don’t want that.” There was a vague chorus of agreement. The same as Dean, they all liked to work with their hands. Jay tried to refuse the beer, but one of the men pushed a bottle into his hand and another slapped him on the back making him lurch forward.
Dean almost said something and then brought the bottle to his lips and sipped to prevent any words escaping. Jay obviously felt uncomfortable, but he should stop behaving like a startled cat. He might be gay, but he was still a man. To join in with a few blokes over a beer wasn’t going to hurt him.
“How’s Louise?” one of the men enquired of John.
“The scan was fine. It’s a girl.”
“Another one? Thought sure you’d get a boy,” Terence said.
John shrugged. “A baby’s a baby.”
“Yeah, but don’t you, like, want a boy? If the third one’s another bloody girl, you’re liable to end up with a tribe of amazons. You’ll be a minority, mate.”
Dean gritted his teeth, wishing some of his colleagues would think before they said anything. Terence was the oldest and could be a right prat at times. He and John were the only two with wives. John stared at Terence and Dean could see John’s jaw tightening.
“As long as it’s healthy, neither of us cares what it is.”
“Here, here,” said Dean. To his surprise, Jay looked up at him from where he sat staring at the beer bottle in his hand. There was something like admiration in his eyes. His gaze looked decidedly bright, anyway.
“I couldn’t do it, though,” another of the men said, shaking his head. “I dunno. Family and all that, I guess it’s fine. I couldn’t get my head around all that. I’ve me some wild oats to sow first.”
John laughed. “Mark, I sure as hell don’t know who you’re trying to kid, but we can hear bells ringing. One,” he leant forward for emphasis, “I’ve got six years on you and I wanted to marry Louise and have kids with her. Two, you ain’t never gonna be old enough where it counts up here,” he tapped his temple, “and three,” he paused and looked around at his smirking audience, “I don’t hear about you sowing too many wild oats lately.”
Even Mark laughed. The baiting was good-natured and not sourly meant. “Maybe I should be like our boy here and change stride.”
There was laughter, but it trailed off on a wave tinged with a little embarrassment. Mark, idiot that he was, failed to notice. “I mean, stands to reason if women find it easy to pick up a bloke, then if you’re bent, surely it’s easier for a bloke to get laid.”
It lay on Dean’s tongue to say that it probably depended on the bloke and he was sure Jay would have no lack of offers if he wanted them. Truth was, Jay might say he was gay, but Dean hadn’t seen much evidence of it. His friend sat dressed in jeans that had worn naturally and a large baggy shirt at least two sizes too big for his frame. Okay, he wore his hair long, but say that to a biker and you might get a punch in the nose. The length of his hair didn’t declare him gay and his wardrobe didn’t scream anything. Dean couldn’t remember ever hearing Jay talk about a date, let alone see him go on one. Mark, alas, still hadn’t shut his trap.
“So, tell us,” Mark looped an arm around Jay’s neck ‑‑ unfortunately, they were sitting side by side ‑‑ “where’s the best place to get shagged these days?”
“I-I wouldn’t know,” Jay said quietly.
“Oh, come on. Pretty little thing like you.” Mark ran his hand down Jay’s hair and Dean’s eyes narrowed. He could feel his face tightening and couldn’t help it. He looked at Mark’s greasy fingers, wondered if any had found its way into Jay’s hair, and almost growled. Instead, he swallowed more beer. What was wrong with him? He needed to get a grip. They might be teasing his friend, but they didn’t really mean anything by it. “You must have loads of offers,” Mark finished.
Jay shook his head and Mark gave him an exaggerated look, holding his hand bent at the wrist, fingertips pressed to his chest. No one could construe the gesture as anything but effeminate. “Don’t tell me you’re not a good shag.”
“Mark.” John spoke his name in warning, but like always, the light was on, but there was nobody home. Mark might know his way around an engine, but he was undeniably thick in other areas.
“I guess there’s only one of us here knows,” Mark laughed. “Or at least he can tell us how you kiss. I mean if it was a good kiss, it makes sense that you would be a good shag, wouldn’t it? What? What?” Mark had finally noticed the other men were quiet and staring at him. He still didn’t take the hint. He looked at Dean. “Well?”
Dean blinked, realising that Mark expected him to answer the question. To make matters worse, despite their discomfort, some of the other men were also looking at him. They weren’t happy with Mark, but now that the question was out there, they were obviously curious as to how Dean would respond. He worked with these men. He was in charge of them. He was aware of Jay gaping at him, but what could he do? He did the only thing he could. He made a joke of it.
“Maybe seven, maybe eight out of ten. I’ve had a lot worse.” He grinned.
“Not a ten then?” Mark sounded strangely disappointed. Dean looked at him and it crossed his mind that maybe Mark wasn’t as straight as he seemed. He didn’t care, but either way, there was no way on earth he would let Mark get within an inch of Jay in that way. Jay deserved better.
“Ten’s are rare,” Dean said, and then drained his beer.
“Since when have you had a ten?” One of the guys laughed.
Dean just smiled secretively.
“Oh, well, sorry mate,” Mark nudged Jay with his shoulder. “It’s been a few years. Maybe you’ll have to try again.”
The room grew warm and events felt a little surreal. Dean didn’t even want to speculate how Jay was feeling. Dean looked at the men who sat watching him, none more so than Mark, whom he had always suspected didn’t really like him. He wasn’t going to let Mark win. He gave a closed-mouth smile. “Maybe.”
There was a second of silence and then laughter broke out. Mark just stared at Dean for a moment, and then shook his head and looked down. Maybe he wasn’t such an idiot after all, but just chose to act like one. Dean would have to watch him.
“Excuse me,” Jay muttered, putting down his beer. He had barely touched it. “I have got to go.” He shouldered his bag as he turned towards the front of the building. The men all started to move, making remarks about washing up and getting on home.
“Use the back exit. I’ve locked up,” Dean said. He stood, and then followed Jay towards the alley. Out back, Jay turned towards him and Dean opened his mouth to say he would see him later, when Jay swore at him. He had never done so before. Dean actually took a step back.
“You shit. You bastard. Fucking bastard!” Jay kept his voice low, but the force of the words, the venom behind them, sounded far worse for it.
Dean just stared at
him in shock. His question was in his eyes. Jay’s gaze flickered towards the interior of the garage behind him, and then back to his face. He looked feline and furious, like a hissing, spitting cat with its claws out. “Do you always have to be so insensitive? Do you have to bring up that stupid sodding kiss every time? That kiss wasn’t even my fault. It was yours. But you’re going to keep making me pay for it.”
“Hey!” Dean tried to protest. He took back that lost step, which meant he let go of the door. It clicked shut, closing them off from the garage and giving them a semblance of privacy. He wasn’t the one who wouldn’t stop mentioning the kiss; that was Jay, and he hadn’t brought it up this time. The men inside had. Jay didn’t give him a chance to explain.
“I’m not available at your beck and call to drag your sorry arse out of shit. No more. Crash your stupid computer, call someone else. See how many friends you’ve got then who will put up with your shit.”
Dean opened his mouth to speak, but the torrent just kept coming. Every “I didn’t ... But ... I ... That’s not ... Listen ... Just ... Let me speak ...” washed away on a river of complaints. By the time Dean gave up, Jay stomped around the alleyway. He finally returned to the place he had started.
“I don’t know why I do it. I don’t know why I ever did. All April and I get out of you is crap. I’ve had crap for the last three years all because you tried to cop a feel off my sister. You couldn’t ask her out and try to date her like any normal man.”
Dean could feel the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching. He wouldn’t hit Jay, of course he wouldn’t. He would be liable to break his jaw, but it would feel good. For an instant, it would feel good and then he would feel lousy about it. Pick on someone your own size; his parents drummed that into him as soon as they saw he was going to be tall for his age, let alone wide. He took a deep breath and as Jay paused to take a breath of his own, he spoke. “Look,” he said, lowering his voice, putting his anger and determination into both it and his expression. He took another breath to explain why he acted the way he had in there. Too late. Jay walked right up to him, practically pushing into him. Surprise chased Dean’s anger back. He was just so shocked that Jay was trying to stand up to him, head tilted back, staring up into his eyes, almost spitting in his face, all that hair spilling down his back.
“And for your information,” Jay snarled. “It wasn’t even much of a kiss. You give me eight out of ten; I give you five for audacity, three for effort and one for technique. There was too much spit.”
Dean couldn’t believe it. It was a closed-mouth kiss. There had been no spit. He was a good kisser, damn it! Women loved him for the way he kissed. Sometimes they went out with him just for that. Some men couldn’t be bothered, but he liked kissing. How dare Jay say he was no good at it!
With a growl that rumbled low in his throat, he grabbed Jay with a hand on each of his upper arms and jerked them together. Jay let out a small ‘humph’ sound that quickly changed into something of a whimper. Dean swallowed the sound down. He used his strength to hold Jay still, his bulk to force him to lean to one side, forced Jay’s mouth open with his tongue, and kissed him. His tongue plunged, licked and swirled. He was deliberately rough one moment, urgent, so that their teeth clashed and they both winced, and then soft and tender the next. He explored, licked along Jay’s teeth, and then drew his friend’s tongue into a suck. He finished with a deep swirl before drawing back. He opened his eyes to stare down into his friend’s shocked face. Jay’s eyes opened wide. He looked pale and shaken, but hadn’t resisted. No surprise there, for Dean hadn’t given him a chance, just devoured him. Realising he still held Jay’s arms, and that he forced him almost onto the tips of his toes, Dean relaxed his grip and set him firmly back on his feet.
“Don’t ever say I don’t know how to kiss,” Dean said, quietly, clearly, calmly.
Jay just stared at him, and then he swallowed. A small tremor ran through him. It didn’t dissipate, but increased until he trembled. Someone might tremble that way with rage and Dean prepared himself for another rant. What he didn’t expect were the tears that flooded Jay’s eyes. Jay looked away, his gaze wandering. His bag containing his laptop and computer equipment had slipped off his shoulder and now hung over one arm. Luckily, the strap was short enough that it hadn’t hit the ground. As one single tear spilled over and ran down his cheek, Jay shook his head at the same time he stepped back. Dean instantly regretted his actions. “Jay.” He took a step forward, holding out a hand. Jay just shook his head once more, turned on his heel and ran.
Chapter Two
Teeth bit one butt cheek and then the other. The gesture was hard, intended to hurt. At once, the mouth cooled and soothed with a soft kiss and the swirl of a tongue. Lips trailed over his skin from the crease where his right leg joined his torso, up over the curve to his hip. There, the soft touch proceeded across his lower back to the opposite hip. The fine hairs there surely tickled his lover’s lips. They stirred against his skin and made him shiver slightly. The lips travelled down from his left hip to the top of his left leg, and then moved off.
His cock, trapped between the heat of his body and the duvet, gave a long, almost impossibly slow throb. This time, the lips returned to that slight dip at the start of the valley. He received a kiss and then the tongue snaked out, licking, pressing into that auspicious place. He expected it to work its way up his spine. Instead, it began a slow descent.
What the ... ? This couldn’t be happening. It was so wrong.
He tried to turn. He wanted to grab the person tormenting him and drag them down onto his dick. He wanted to spear up into a warm, compliant body. Perhaps sensing the tension in him, the mouth pulled back enough to allow the person to speak.
“What’s wrong,” a man whispered into the darkness, and it took him a moment to realise he wasn’t the one speaking.
“What? Wait. No. I ...” He wanted to ask what the man thought he was doing, but the sound of his voice shocked him into silence. It sounded high, almost girlish. In that moment, there was little doubt as to which one of them would be doing the spearing.
Dean came awake, crying out. The sound echoed back to him from the shell of his empty bedroom. The dream itself didn’t disturb him, but the intensity of it was something else entirely. Hell, he suffered from a vivid imagination, but this felt too vibrant even for him. His heartbeat pounded. His chest heaved. Sweat made his brow slick and ... glancing down, and then clasping his cock, told him other things were just as slick in other places. Somehow, his body knew. The dream woke him just in time, just short of orgasm.
Shaking his head, dismissing the thought, Dean stopped recriminating. He did more extreme things than have a wet dream. It seldom bothered him what catalyst aroused him. Straight porn depicted a man and a woman, even if it did feature the woman more heavily. The sight of a guy never made him flinch. Now it troubled him, not because he questioned his sexuality, but because to hurt a friend by acting so stupidly was unforgivable.
Did I really kiss him?
Dean sat in the dark on his bed, legs bent at the knees, elbows resting on them. The little red light on the alarm clock beside his bed read three a.m. “Hell, I actually kissed him,” Dean whispered into the darkness. What have I done?
The chances were good that his foolish actions would destroy their friendship. The idea of not having Jay in his life just didn’t compute. He refused to accept it. Jay was a fixture. Life wouldn’t be the same without him. If he needed to grovel to have Jay forgive him, he would do it. He could only hope Jay would accept his apology.
* * * * *
The phone rang insistent, clamouring. Jay shot it a glance but refused to move. He let the answer-phone reply. The caller was just a friend, but he’d vetted his calls for the last few days. Hearing a recognisable voice, he reached out to answer it, but changed his mind. He didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now. The call wasn’t important and it could wait. Having managed to avoid Dean Chapman for the last few days, it
appeared as if the man had finally given up calling.
All right, so it wasn’t as if Dean had rung fifty-thousand times or anything, but maybe two or three times a day until yesterday. Last night, Dean talked to the machine for the two minutes it allowed, apologising and saying he wanted to explain in person. As far as Jay was concerned, there was nothing to explain. Dean was an arse-wipe, to use his sister’s favourite expression. What had the guy been thinking? Was the man’s ego that big that he needed to prove he could kiss even if it meant kissing another man? It seemed so.
That kiss ... Jay sat at his computer, shivering. He could turn on the heating but the room wasn’t that cold. The chill came from within.
That kiss.
If only he hadn’t whimpered. Had Dean heard that? Did he remember it now? Jay groaned aloud. He ran his hands up over his face into his hair, cradled his head and placed his head face down on his desk. Darkness enveloped him, nice, muffling out the world, making him feel safe.
The trouble was shutting out all external distractions left him alone with the memory of that kiss. Before, the only memory he endured was a warm press of lips, Dean’s soft blue eyes, and his startled expression changing into a self-deprecating laugh. “Gee, I thought you were your sister. What you doing going round looking like a tart?”
Jay hadn’t found his words funny and neither had April, seeing as they indirectly implied she went around looking like a hooker. Three years ago, she gave Dean what for as soon as she heard about it. It was partly the reason she told everyone that he had grabbed her brother, Jay having told her she could, equally pissed at Dean’s arrogance. Unfortunately, ever since, part of him wanted Dean to kiss him again. Now he had.
Snow Angel Page 2
