Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door Page 9

  "Well, that's not exactly true, is it? You could be paid to review books. Or work for a publisher."

  "There aren't a lot of publishers in Utah," Jay pointed out.

  "There are publishers in New York."

  "I don't live in New York."

  "No, but the point is, you could. If you really wanted to do something else, you could move to New York. Or anywhere, really."

  "I don't know. It might be too late for that. I guess in your heart you'll always be a chef, and in my heart I'll be an editor."

  Stephen's lovely mouth pulled into a frown. "That... actually sounds pretty depressing."

  "You're the one who said cooking is just a hobby."

  "I know, but... well, my point is, Jay, that you should try to do what makes you feel happy. If being a professor or whatever doesn't make you happy... "

  "Who said it doesn't?" Jay asked. "I never said that."

  Stephen licked his lips. "Yeah, you're right. I just assumed because... well, I shouldn't assume."

  "I don't know if it makes me happy," Jay admitted. "I always thought I'd have all these questions worked out by now. Like, the passage of time would be enough to get my head on straight. But I don't feel like I have any answers. I feel like I have momentum, and I don't know how to swing that momentum in another direction. So I just keep going forward in a straight line and force myself to have tunnel vision."

  "I know exactly what you mean. Green peppers good?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'm going to bring my ice cream maker next time."

  "You make ice cream?"

  "Yes. Though I usually can't convince anybody to try my experimental flavors. They're not exactly Ben & Jerry's."

  "Like what?"

  "I'm perfecting a basil and rose water combination right now." Stephen laughed at the grimace on Jay's face. "It tastes really good, I promise you."

  "It sounds like it tastes like a bathroom air freshener."

  "Oh, not quite as delicious as that."

  "Let me guess, you don't like store bought ice cream, either."

  "Nope. Too sweet for me now. If you give up sugar like that, even diet sodas start to taste too sweet."

  "I honestly can't imagine not wanting Ben & Jerry's."

  "You'll be able to imagine that quite well after I make you a batch of my stuff. Now go sit down and I'll get this all dished up."

  "You're my guest. Shouldn't I be serving you?"

  "I've got to plate my own food."

  Jay smiled. "Like this is Top Chef?"

  "Yes, exactly like that. Everything has to look just right. You do most of your eating with your eyes, you know."

  Jay couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything with his eyes. Most of the time, he didn't even glance at the food before scarfing it down.

  Stephen did a rather nice job of plating the food and, as Jay admired the careful balance of color and portions, he had to admit that it did make a difference. He was already imagining the crispy potato between his teeth and the succulent pieces of lamb on his tongue before he took the first bite. Stephen continued to exceed every expectation that Jay might have placed on him, proving himself to be an amazingly awesome cook. Stephen watched him a little anxiously as he took his first bite, and that nervous light in his eyes didn't dim, even after Jay smiled at him.

  "I can't believe you did this in my kitchen."

  "You like it, then?"

  "It's amazing, Stephen. Now that I know what you're capable of, you're never going to get rid of me."

  "Ah, then my evil plan worked."

  "Your evil plan was to bind me to you with excellent food?"

  "That was one stage of the plan. You'll note that I also used excellent conversation and excellent sex to round things out."

  Mention of the excellent sex was enough to distract Jay from the food entirely, but he didn't think Stephen would appreciate it if he sat his full plate aside and attacked Stephen's neck while he tried to eat. "You're truly an evil genius."

  "That's what I've been saying for years, but nobody believes me. I think it's the genius part they have a problem with."

  "No, definitely the evil part. There's no way anybody would ever think you evil."

  "Even if I'm doing something evil?"

  Jay shook his head. "I don't believe you've ever done anything evil in your life."

  "That's only because you don't know me that well."

  "I do, though." Jay realized that his declaration sounded a little too impassioned, and looked back down to his plate. "I mean, we've had a lot of conversations the past few days, haven't we? I can't think of anybody I know better than you."

  "I feel the same about you," Stephen admitted softly. "Now you better eat before the potatoes get cold. There's nothing worse than cold and soggy potatoes, right?"

  They ate in companionable silence only occasionally broken by a comment from Stephen or a question from Jay. They didn't turn on the television, either, which forced Jay to concentrate on his plate and what he was eating. He felt the first twinge of fullness while there was still at least half his serving on the plate, but he didn't quite want to stop eating. Full or not, this was the most delicious thing he'd ever put in his mouth. Even the salad was amazing. He never realized that lettuce could have flavor and vegetables could have texture. The raw mushrooms were a little too much for him to handle, but everything else had a bright, vibrant freshness to it. It was such a far cry from the canned and frozen, overcooked stuff he was accustomed to that he didn't think it was fair to categorize them in the same food group.

  When they were both finished, Jay stood and took their plates to the kitchen. He paused long enough to grab two beers from the fridge--bought especially for entertaining company that night--and when he returned, Stephen was sprawled out on the couch half-naked.

  "You're missing your shirt," Jay said.

  "I know. It just fell right off."

  "It fell off?"

  "Yep."

  "Just like that huh?"

  "Just like that," Stephen said, taking the offered beer from Jay. "Hasn't that ever happened to you before?"

  "Honestly. No. You better hope that doesn't happen to you in the winter. You'll freeze."

  "Hopefully it'll only happen when you're around to keep me warm," Stephen said, pulling Jay down to the couch. Jay lost no time in touching Stephen, eager to touch every inch of his smooth chest and shoulders. He really didn't have enough time to study Stephen the night before, and now he wanted to make up for that. He wanted to learn every bit of him by touch and sight. He wanted to find the birthmarks and the freckles that he couldn't feel. He wanted to rub Stephen's nipple with the pad of his thumb and watch the flesh slowly harden into a peak perfect for Jay's mouth. The only thing better than Stephen's shirt mysteriously falling off would be if his pants followed.

  Stephen arched his back under Jay's hand and mouth, sighing with every new caress, his fingers threading through Jay's hair and traveling down his back. He wanted to bend his spine and push himself into the touch like a demanding cat. His shirt felt so rough where it rubbed against his chest and tightening nipples. It was just a regular T-shirt, but compared to Stephen's silky skin, it felt like a hair suit. He could almost imagine it scraping his skin raw as he continued to move over Stephen's body. The night before, with nothing between them, it had felt so good. His nerve endings still tingled at the memory of it, and his hunger to feel it again almost overwhelmed every other thought.

  Stephen might have sensed which direction Jay's mind was going, because his fingers caught the material and he slowly, deliberately, dragged it up Jay's back. Jay buried his face in Stephen's neck and didn't protest the touch, though he still didn't feel entirely comfortable losing his clothes. Stephen's fingers were light and playful, sending bolts of desire through him with every touch and promising so much more. If Jay would just let him remove the shirt, would just trust him that far, he would be rewarded for it. That's what Stephen told him with each careful touch,
and now that Jay had his face buried against Stephen's neck and his cock pressing to Stephen's hip, he could almost believe it.

  Jay acted quickly, sitting up and lifting his shirt over his head. Stephen's eyes widened with surprise as the clothing fell to the floor, but Jay didn't give him a chance to study Stephen's face for a reaction. He slammed his mouth to Stephen's, kissing him until the embarrassment and anxiety faded to a dull roar. The texture of Stephen's skin against his felt so good, and the heat of Stephen's mouth was so fierce, that Jay soon forgot everything that wasn't directly related to the waves of pleasure rolling through him.

  Stephen slid his lips from Jay's, skimming them over his jaw and down his throat. Jay tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering closed as Stephen fit his mouth over the skin, sucking with just enough force to sting. He would have a hickey when all this was over. He, Jay Warheimer, would have a hickey right at the base of his neck. A mark. A love mark. His moan turned into a whimper as Stephen relaxed his jaw slightly, letting his teeth just barely sink into the skin. It added a new dimension of sensation that went direction to his groin. He wanted to feel Stephen's mouth like that everywhere.

  "Oh, Jay, don't smother him."

  Jeni's voice was like a bucket of ice water thrown directly over his groin. He started back, pushing himself away from Stephen and scrambling for his shirt like a babysitter who'd just been caught with her boyfriend. Stephen sat up more slowly, mouth set in a confused frown as he looked to see just who had interrupted them. Jeni and Amy stood in the doorway, both of them grinning widely, Jeni looking particularly pleased with her little joke.

  "I'd be more worried about him breaking the couch, to be honest," Amy said. "It's almost on its last legs as it is."

  "I know. You can tell where he always sits, can't you? Since that's where the springs aren't really springs anymore."

  Jay stood rather stiffly beside the couch, glancing quickly at Stephen to try to gauge his thoughts. "Amy, what are you doing here? I told you that I needed the place to myself."

  "How was I supposed to know you actually needed the place to yourself?"

  "I told you that I was going to have a guest," Jay said.

  "Yeah, she told me. But I didn't really believe her." Jeni craned her neck to the side and wiggled her fingers at Stephen. "I guess this explains why Rhys couldn't even get you to look his way. You like some cushion, huh?"

  They both cackled at that, and then Amy dropped her purse and breezed into the kitchen. "What smells so delicious in here? Did you guys order something in?"

  "No," Stephen said, pulling his shirt on. "I made dinner."

  "Ooh! Can I have some? Jeni, are you hungry?"

  "I'm starving. What have we got?"

  Jay wanted to protest that they didn't have anything. Stephen hadn't cooked for them, and why did Amy think she could just barge in and act like a total asshole? It must have been Jeni's influence, because he honestly couldn't remember Amy being quite this thoughtless before. But even when he heard them pull the plates from the cupboard, he couldn't say anything. He'd be giving Jeni another week's worth of ammunition if he barged into the kitchen and demand that nobody touch his food. She'd probably tell him to relax and remind him that he wouldn't starve if he missed out on a few bites of the casserole, even though they both knew it had absolutely nothing to do with the food.

  Stephen touched his arm. "Look, if they're going to be around here for awhile, we can go to my place."

  "I don't really feel like... I should just study."

  "You can study at my place. Go grab your bag and I'll be a perfect gentleman."

  Jay didn't want to be around anybody. He just wanted to lock himself in his room, turn on his music or the television, and read until he felt like he had a semblance of control. He wished life could be more like books. In books, things were supposed to make sense. There had to be an internal logic to all the characters and their actions and motivations. Jeni would be his antagonist, but she would probably get her comeuppance in the end, and he'd grow as a person, and everything would work out. But that's not what happened in the real world, and there would probably never be any consequences for her behavior. But he didn't want to turn Stephen down, either. Even if he didn't really feel fit for company anymore.

  "Okay. I'll be right back."

  Jeni caught his eye as he walked by the kitchen and grinned-- Ain't I stinker? How could Amy even put with her for five minutes, much less spend most of the day and night with her? He'd have to ask her if he ever felt like talking to her again. At that moment, the chances of even wanting to see her face were slim to none. He didn't blame her for Jeni's bad attitude--though he did blame her for bringing Jeni to the apartment again. He also blamed her for laughing and being Jeni's captive audience. Maybe she would stop being such a bitch if everybody didn't cheer her on.

  When Jay returned, Stephen and Jeni were both sitting on the couch, Stephen listening while Jeni talked about Pride Week. The sight of the two of them being so casual and social so soon after Jay's rush of humiliation almost sent him scurrying back to his room. He hated that Stephen could still talk to her like she hadn't said anything wrong. He hated that he was still so angry. Most of all, he hated that he could do absolutely nothing about any of it. He couldn't tell Stephen to stop being friendly with her. He couldn't make Amy stop dating her. He couldn't even throw her out of his own apartment where he paid most of the rent. She was balancing a plate of food on her knee. His eye began to twitch. A steady throb just below his eyebrow.

  "This is so good," Amy enthused. "Is there something sweet in this?"

  "Yes, the sauce is supposed to be a bit sweet to compliment the lamb."

  "I thought Jay just added some sugar when you weren't looking. That's how he always ate before."

  "Before what?"

  "Before now. We grew up together. If you're wondering, he's always been like this."

  "Come on. I'm ready to go," Jay said tightly, making a beeline for the door. Stephen didn't need to hear anymore stories about what a little pig Jay had always been. "Amy, we need to talk tonight."

  "We're going back to my place," Jeni said. "We only stopped here to watch television and eat."

  "Amy." Jay took a deep, steadying breath. "Remember whose name is on the lease."

  "Is that supposed to be a threat?" Jeni asked.

  Amy answered before Jay could. "It's not a threat. I'll be home tonight, Jay."

  "Good."

  Jay slammed the door shut hard enough to make the frame shake, but it didn't do anything to make him feel better.

  Chapter 8

  Stephen took him to a seedy bar on Main Street, and Jay didn't even realize that was exactly what he needed until they were sharing a tiny table in the far corner. They had a bowl of peanuts between them and a pitcher of beer. Stephen absently shelled the peanuts and made three piles--half of the nuts for Jay, half for himself, and then a pile for the discarded shells. Jay wasn't hungry and he mainly pushed his around the table and arranged them into nonsensical designs. Stephen didn't ask him any questions and Jay wasn't really in the mood for conversation, but the silence between them wasn't tense. It settled between them, as patient and sweet as an old friend.

  "I've known her since elementary school," Jay finally volunteered. "We were in all the same classes right up until we graduated. The summer after graduation was probably the best in my life. I knew I was getting away from her, I planned to live in the dorms and I figured college wouldn't be like high school. I was going to have lots of friends, maybe even a boyfriend, and it'd be great. But then, wouldn't you know it, she was in two of my classes that first semester. She also decided she was a lesbian after four years of fucking the entire football team, so I saw her at the GLBT Center, too."

  "You two are what? Twenty-four now?"

  "Yeah."

  "Why does she still act like she's twelve then?"

  Jay sighed. "I don't know. Probably because nobody cares. Amy is my best friend in the world, and she
thought it was hilarious. Everybody thinks it's funny when Jeni says shit like that. And if I act like it's not hilarious, then I'm the jerk with the problem. 'What's the matter, Jay? Can't you take a little joke?'"

  "She says shit like that at the Center, too?"

  "Sure. She says it anywhere. Everywhere. She's actually fooled me three times now. When we finished junior high, I thought she'd go to a different high school. When we graduated, I thought she'd go to a different college. When she finished up her Bachelor's, I thought she'd be on her way to graduate school or California or something. But no, she decided she needed to stick around to get a second degree. And of course, be more active at the Center."

  "Jay, she should not be saying anything like that at the Center. To anybody. What about the director before me? Did you ever speak to her about it?"

  Jay snorted. "No. Trust me, Stephen. If there's one thing I've learned, you can't stop a bully. They aren't secretly scared of being the butt of jokes. They don't care if they get in trouble. They aren't worried about threats. And when you're an adult, your options are even more limited. It's not like you can call the cops, and I have no recourse through the school."

  "So you really believe there's no choice but to take it?"

  "Yeah."

  "No. That's not true. And I don't believe for a second that anybody at the Center laughs when she says shit like that. You have friends there, Jay."

  "It doesn't matter what you believe, Stephen. It's like evolution and gravity. You can believe whatever you want, but it doesn't change the basic facts. When we were in sixth grade, she spent an entire field trip following me around and mooing. Her friends joined in. Pretty soon there was a group of twelve of my classmates, all of them mooing and yelling insults. And you know what happened as a result?"

  Stephen shook his head.

  "Nothing. The adult in charge of our group just happened to be her mother, and when I went to talk to Mrs. Hanson, our teacher, about it, she told me not to be such a tattletale, and if there's a problem, our group leader will sort it out."