Burden

by K. C. Wells

  When the concert began for real, Randy forgot about his job concerns and his self-doubts and lost himself in the music. Now and again he glanced at Jesse, finding him equally absorbed in the atmosphere, that smile never far from his face. It was a joy to sit there and listen to such wonderful voices, such thoughtful lyrics.

  Then there were those moments when his gaze met Jesse’s, and the contentment Randy saw in his eyes gave him reason enough to be glad he’d accepted the invitation. When the concert came to a close, he was genuinely sorry. He didn’t want the night to end.

  The concertgoers filed out of the playfield, Randy and Jesse heading for the nearest exit on East Seventy-Second Street.

  When they reached the street, Jesse gave him a dreamy smile. “Wasn’t that awesome?”

  Randy had to agree. “Thanks for suggesting it. I had a great evening.” He paused. “Do you want a coffee or a drink or something?” He wanted to hold on to the moment a little longer.

  Jesse bit his lip. “Would you be offended if I said no? It’s just that… I have another interview in the morning, and I want to be ready for it. And for me, that means getting a good night’s sleep.”

  Randy smiled. “No problem. Thanks again for tonight.” He tilted his head. “Which way is home? I go thataway.” He pointed north.

  Jesse chuckled. “And I go south. Thanks for coming with me.” He paused, and Randy wondered what was coming. To his surprise, Jesse jerked his head forward and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading down Fifth Avenue.

  Randy watched him walking away, still reeling from the unexpected display. He waited until Jesse was no longer in sight, then headed up Fifth Avenue, feeling light.

  JESSE SAT on the train, his mind replaying the concert. It had been a fantastic evening, but having Randy there with him made it all the more memorable. Randy’s presence was kind of a two-edged sword, however. Jesse had been constantly aware of him, and it had been difficult to concentrate fully on the music. Now and again, he’d caught Randy looking at him, and his heartbeat had sped up. Trying to appear unruffled had taken all his effort.

  That last-minute invitation….

  He’d wanted to say yes, to grab more time with Randy, but it was too much of a temptation. And besides, he really didn’t need to torture himself like that. Jesse felt bad about lying, though.

  Why did I have to go and kiss him?

  That was easy. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  “Did you have a good time tonight?”

  Jesse blinked and looked around. The train car was half-empty, and a guy was seated next to him, smiling. “Excuse me?”

  “The concert. In Central Park? I saw you there.”

  Jesse frowned. “Yeah, sure.” Okay, this is weird. He glanced at the guy again, taking in his brown, straggly hair, brown eyes, and thin lips. Then he realized with a shock that he’d seen him before. The guy was a trick, from maybe a couple of months before. He’d given Jesse a bad feeling. Jesse hadn’t felt safe and had been relieved to get the hell out of there.

  “Yeah, I was gonna say something, you know, let on to ya, but then it occurred to me the guy you were with might not know about your… occupation.” He smirked.

  Holy fuck. That had been a close one. Panic slid through him in a cold rush, and Jesse fought to suppress a shiver. He couldn’t reply, his throat was so tight.

  The train drew to a halt, and to his utter relief, the guy got up. “This is me. Nice seeing you again. I might give you a call soon. You were… good.” He leered, and Jesse wanted to throw up.

  The doors opened, and he got out. Jesse waited until the train was moving again before putting his head in his hands, breathing deeply. He tried desperately to recall the trick’s name so that if, God forbid, he did call again, Jesse would know to turn him down. Better than that, he’d pass the guy’s name around. He was bad news—Jesse felt that in his bones.

  Then reality slammed into him like a sledgehammer.

  You can’t afford to turn down jobs. Beggars can’t be choosers, remember?

  Another line of business was looking more and more like a really good idea.

  Chapter Eight

  JESSE CAME out of the hotel room and immediately reached into his work bag for some gum. Anything to take away the taste of the trick’s cock. Jesse had wanted to use the shower, but had been refused. It happened, now and again, hence the reason for a supply of baby wipes in his bag. He huffed. Some guys were real dicks. Still, he couldn’t complain, not with two hundred dollars in his wallet. The john wasn’t complaining either, judging by the noise he’d made when he came all over Jesse’s back. A job well done.

  He smiled as he went down to the lobby in the elevator. Not a bad day’s work. There were some days where he felt like he was continually reinventing himself. Where he made sure the trick felt like some kind of sex god at the end. Not that Jesse was paying all that much attention during the act. He imagined himself on a movie set, playing before an unseen camera, where he slipped into porn mode, making all the right noises in all the right places. There was skill involved, but it wasn’t so much about positions or flexibility. It was the ability to make a guy feel like he was in complete control, when in truth, Jesse didn’t let go of that control once.

  Not quite truth. There were some times when Jesse just held on until the end, waiting for it to be over.

  It was the end of a long day, and his last trick of the evening. That meant only one thing: back to the apartment for a long shower. Baby wipes were okay for a quick cleanup, but no substitute for a shower nozzle that could find its way into all his nooks and crannies. Not to mention the hot water that pummeled away any aches.

  When his phone vibrated in his bag, Jesse stifled a groan. He’d had enough for one day. Then he sighed. Since when could he turn down work? Each dick represented cash to pay his share of the heat, the electric, the food…. And maybe have enough left over for that cute pair of sneakers at Macy’s.

  Except he knew better. Cute sneakers were a luxury he could ill afford.

  Only one more day until the weekend. Not that Jesse’s weekends were any different from his weekdays. Guys wanted to fuck, regardless of what day it was, and business was actually better on the weekend.

  Sometimes. At other times, it was like walking through a fucking desert with no watering hole for miles.

  He pulled out his phone and peered at the screen as he walked through the lobby, not bothering to pretend like he was staying there. The guy at the desk knew different anyhow—the hotel was used by a lot of escorts. Jesse smiled when he saw the text from Randy.

  I’m done for the day. Want a coffee? Near Union Square if that works for ya.

  Jesse was about to type Sure when he stopped. That business with the guy on the train gave him pause. What if another john spotted him when he was with Randy?

  He pushed aside the thought. Christ, if I think like that, I’ll never go anywhere with him again. And that was a situation he didn’t want to contemplate. Besides, it was just coffee, right?

  Jesse smiled as he typed. Yup. Name the place. The shower could wait. He was clean enough for coffee.

  A second later he got the reply. The Coffee Shop, 30 mins.

  Perfect. I’ll be there. Jesse headed for the train.

  By the time he walked into the cool interior, Randy was already sitting at the bar, his back to the door. Jesse crept up behind him, then said loudly, “We gotta stop meeting like this.”

  Randy gave a start and swiveled to glare at him. Then Jesse saw the spilled coffee all over the countertop. Shit. He reached quickly for the napkins, mopping up the liquid. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you already had your coffee. I’ll get you another.”

  Randy chuckled. “Just sit down so you don’t get into more trouble.”

  Jesse widened his eyes. “Me? Trouble?”

  Randy gave a loud snort. “Christ, you can’t do innocent to save your life.” He signaled to the server and ordered two lattes. After the server w
alked away, he regarded Jesse closely. “You look tired. Are you okay?” Concern laced his voice.

  Jesse gave a half smile as he climbed onto the stool next to Randy’s. “I’m not sleeping well, that’s all.” He guessed it really had been a long day after all, because right then, he was bone-tired. But not too tired to have a glance around the coffee shop, looking for familiar faces.

  God, look at me. Talk about paranoid.

  “You know what you need to do?” Randy said suddenly, his eyes bright. “You need to go home, shove a pizza in the oven, put your feet up, and fall asleep on the couch watching a movie.”

  God, you’re sweet. Jesse sighed. “In theory, that sounds awesome. In practice? Not gonna happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “My roommate’s apartment has the bare essentials. In this case, a combined microwave and toaster oven. So it’s French bread pizza or nothing. The more serious flaw to your plan is no TV, no iPad, and no laptop. And I am not watching movies on my phone.” He smiled. “Not that it wasn’t a great idea. I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie.” Their lattes arrived, and Jesse took his, inhaling its aroma. “I’ve only had one cup of coffee today. God knows how I’ve survived.” He sipped at the frothy beverage.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without coffee.” Randy snickered. “Maybe twenty-five to life.”

  It took all Jesse’s efforts not to blow froth everywhere. When he caught sight of Randy’s grin, Jesse knew that had been his goal. He shook his head, chuckling. “You bastard.”

  Randy gasped. “You can’t say that to me. I’m a police officer.” His eyes sparkled with humor, and something rolled over deep in Jesse’s belly.

  Why can’t you like guys, Randy?

  He pushed down hard on the pleasurable shiver that threatened to ripple through him. “So, you’re done for the day?”

  Randy nodded. “I’m going to follow my own advice. Drink a cold beer, order in a pizza, and watch a movie.” He stilled. “Say, here’s an idea. Why don’t you join me?”

  Jesse frowned, the words not computing. “Join you?”

  Randy grinned. “Movie. Pizza. My place.”

  Oh my God. “Seriously?”

  “Sure, why not? I’ve got a great selection of DVDs, but if there’s nothing you like, you can choose something from Netflix. And you get to choose the pizza.”

  Say yes. Say yes. Say yes, you dumbass.

  Say no. You could be earning a few bucks. Sitting on your ass watching a DVD earns you nothing.

  “You know what? You’re on.” Jesse’s heartbeat nudged up a gear. “Just one thing? Can I go home and change first?” Because no way on this planet was he going to Randy’s place without a shower.

  Randy laughed. “Of course you can. Look, it’s six o’clock now. Why don’t we say seven thirty at my place?”

  Jesse coughed. “That would be awesome—if I actually knew where you lived.”

  “Oops.” Randy snickered again. “I’ll send you the address, along with a map.” He gestured to Jesse’s tall glass. “Now drink your coffee. I need to get home ASAP.”

  “Why?” Jesse couldn’t resist. “What is it you need to do before I see your place?”

  Randy gave him a hard stare. “If I went to your place right now, with no warning, would you be happy?”

  Jesse thought about the bag of toys he’d cleaned the night before that was sitting on the couch, next to his latest supply of condoms and lube. He cleared his throat. “Probably not.”

  “Exactly. So drink up.”

  Jesse drank his latte. Despite his fatigue, the prospect of spending an evening in Randy’s home had him buzzing.

  Until that voice in his head piped up.

  Calm down. It’s just a movie and pizza. Don’t go making it out to be anything more.

  There were times when Jesse hated being a realist.

  THE MINUTE Randy got through his front door, he performed a quick assessment of what urgently needed done. Thankfully there wasn’t a lot of clutter—he could have been a poster boy for the minimalist look—but that didn’t mean he hadn’t left clothes, magazines, and other items lying around.

  I can’t believe I asked him back here. Whatever possessed me?

  It had been a spur-of-the-moment suggestion, but as soon as he’d uttered it, Randy had been seized by a panic that surprised him. It’s just a movie and pizza, right? Then why does it feel like so much more? This irrational reaction didn’t make sense. It was just two guys sharing a pizza, for God’s sake.

  Then why does it feel like… a date?

  He pushed aside such thoughts and got down to the real-life business of making his apartment presentable. Clothes went in the hamper, books back on the shelf, mugs were washed, dried, and put away. A quick check on the beer situation—because he had mentioned beer, right?—to find all was well in that department. As he tidied, he kept up a running conversation with himself in his head.

  Why am I doing this?

  Because I want to make Jesse feel good. He looked like he needed a pizza night. That’s why.

  So it’s just for Jesse, then.

  Yeah, right. Randy wanted to spend time with him, and he knew it.

  When the door buzzer sounded, it made him jump. He pressed the intercom button. “Hello?”

  “Lemme in. I’m starving!”

  Randy laughed. “Fourth floor, apartment 4A.” He pressed the release button and opened his front door.

  Jesse soon appeared, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a loose-fitting blue shirt that matched his eyes. In his hand he carried a plastic bag. He grinned when he saw Randy. “No elevator, huh? Now I know why you’re in such good shape.”

  It took a second for his words to fully register. “Thanks for the compliment.” Randy peered inside the bag Jesse thrust at him, and smiled. “Aw. You brought beer. How thoughtful.”

  Jesse snickered. “Hey, it goes well with pizza, right? What am I saying? Everything goes well with pizza.” He sniffed the air. “Which I can’t smell, so I’m assuming you haven’t ordered yet.”

  Randy rolled his eyes. “I was waiting for you.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the page for Charlie’s Pizza. “Pick one. And don’t worry if I’ll like it or not. I’ve been through every pizza on their menu.”

  Jesse laughed. “Now I know why you live on the fourth floor. It’s to work off the pizza.” He peered at the screen. “Ooh, they’ve got meatball. Nice. And ground beef. Now I’m spoiled for choice.”

  “Then we order two. What’s the best thing about pizza, after all?” Randy laughed when they said in unison, “Leftovers for breakfast.” He made the call, while Jesse wandered around the living room, pausing at the shelves where Randy kept his DVD collection. By the time the pizza was ordered, Jesse was pulling out cases and reading the backs, looking relaxed.

  What hit Randy was how natural it felt to have Jesse there. His earlier panic had fled, replaced by quiet anticipation.

  This is going to be okay.

  Chapter Nine

  “OH MAN. These garlic knots are amazing!” Jesse moaned as he took another mouthful.

  Randy chuckled. “Yeah, I couldn’t tell you liked ’em.” Thankfully he’d gotten two orders.

  Jesse flushed and swallowed. “Oops. My bad. You can have another slice of pizza to make up for it.”

  “Gee, how generous.” Not that he really minded. Jesse’s obvious enjoyment was adorable. “Did you decide on a movie?” Jesse had insisted they eat first, and Randy had been fine with that. He’d been hungry too.

  Jesse bit his lip. “Well, kind of. You have an old movie on your shelf that I just love, but I don’t know…. You really have to be in the mood for that kind of thing.”

  “What kind of thing?” Randy was intrigued, mentally going through his DVDs.

  Jesse smiled. “Notting Hill.”

  Randy blinked. “Okay.” That was… unexpected.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s a real chick flick, but… it makes me smile every tim
e I see it. And that killer line—‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her’—makes me tear up when I hear that.”

  Randy couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll make sure I have tissues handy.” He shook his head.

  “What?”

  “I guess I expected you to choose something more modern, with more action….”

  “And less romance?” Jesse suggested with a grin. “Gotta tell ya, I’m a sucker for a good romance.”

  “Then let me clear all this crap out of the way, and we can put it on. Unless you want another slice of pizza?”

  Jesse groaned. “Are you kidding? I’m gonna have to work out extra hard tomorrow. I haven’t eaten so much in ages.”

  Randy picked up the pizza boxes and the bag containing what was left of the garlic knots. “Want a beer?” he asked as he dumped them on the countertop.

  “Ooh, yeah. And I really like your place. All this exposed brick is great.”

  “Thanks.” Randy reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two cans. “You want a glass?”

  Jesse smirked. “Hell no.”

  “A guy after my own heart.” Randy handed him a can, then went over to find the DVD. “I guess this says something about me too,” he said as he loaded the disc into the DVD player.

  “I did notice there were quite a few similar movies on your shelf.”

  “Damn. My secret is out.”

  Jesse chuckled. “Yeah, who’d have thought it? Randy Michaels, the big bad cop… who likes mushy romance.”

  Randy sat beside him on the couch and smacked him on the leg. “Less of the mushy, you.” He aimed the remote, and the TV screen burst into life.

  Jesse settled back against the cushions, a contented smile on his face. “You were right, y’know. This is exactly what I needed.”

  “Then I’m glad I suggested it.” Randy got comfortable, his gaze fixed on the screen.

  His mind was focused on other things, however. On not sitting too close to Jesse, although he badly wanted to. On the smell of him, because damn, he smelled good, a pleasant mix of soap and something else—not cologne, but hey, he didn’t need it. Jesse’s scent stirred Randy’s senses, and he breathed him in, wanting more. Jesse shifted a little closer, and Randy had to fight the urge to put his arm around Jesse’s shoulders.