Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
L eslie
This one was a doozy, this migraine, but Leslie wasn’t sure what hurt worse, his head or his heart.
Or his pride.
He’d acted a fool, walking out on Joe like that, but what was he supposed to do? He knew if he’d stayed, it would have gone from bad to worse.
He’d lashed out at Joe, and didn’t he feel like an ass for it. But dammit, Joe said they were going to do this. He was going to stay. And now he was talking about not being here next year and taking on jobs that meant endless traveling and…
Had he ever intended to stay?
Sandy remained quiet on the drive from the school to their house and he stood by to lend a hand if Leslie needed it as they headed out of the Jeep and into the house.
“Thanks for coming all the way out there,” Leslie said. “I know a cheer competition is not exactly your idea of a good time on a rare Saturday off.”
“I wanted to support Joe and the kids,” Sandy said.
They went up to Leslie’s rooms and Sandy stood there while Leslie took his medication. Sandy didn’t speak for a long time, so long Leslie finally turned around to look at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Joe’s right, you know. He cares about you.”
Leslie opened his mouth to speak and then he shook his head. “I can’t do this now. I need to rest.”
“You can’t hold onto him so tightly. You’ve gotta let him go do what he needs to do if you want to keep him in your life.
He’ll come back to you. He loves you. And getting upset about it before you even know what’s going to happen?
It’s not fair to him, Leslie, especially since he doesn’t know everything about you. ”
Leslie blew out a breath. “I was going to tell him. But now…if I tell him and he does stay, he’ll be staying because he feels obligated.”
Leslie felt like a broken man on a good day.
Today, he felt destroyed. Stabbing pain in his head, aching back, knives in his knee.
Every movement tore him down a little more.
The roar of the crowd today at the cheer competition really set off his migraine.
It had been coming on since the night before, but he’d thought he could dodge it.
The acupressure Joe taught him seemed to work.
Sometimes. But when the screaming continued and got louder during the award ceremony, that had been it.
Maybe he had been harsh with Joe, but he was just facing the inevitable.
Joe wasn’t going to stay with him. Leslie wasn’t enough to keep Joe in Ayre Valley.
Fifteen years had been a long time to wait for his chance, and it seemed as if it had been in vain.
If Joe was leaving in May, Leslie might as well just let him go now.
“Fine. Rest. We’re seeing Dr. Taylor Monday. Remember, you’ve got your test results to go over. And then you need to talk to Joe. Tell him why you’re in such a damn rush to be with him.”
“I’d hardly consider fifteen years a rush.”
“He’s been here for three months, Leslie. That’s it. That’s not enough time for you to expect him to drop everything.”
But did Leslie have much longer to wait? The migraines had been so much worse these past few months. Sure, he’d been under more stress—some of it self-imposed—but he was worried. It was a vicious cycle. The more he worried, the more his head hurt, the more he worried.
There was no way to diagnose Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, the disease that killed his father, until after death.
At forty-five years old, Leslie was nowhere near the level of concern his father had been.
By his age, Rick Payton had already started to have major mood swings and aggression.
He’d become violent with his family. He had majorly impaired cognitive function, couldn’t remember people he’d played the sport he loved with, couldn’t remember his childhood.
Couldn’t remember things from Barry’s and Leslie’s childhoods.
Leslie wasn’t anywhere near that, but the headaches and their frequency terrified him.
The doctor had done a PET scan, MRI and CT scan and could find nothing out of the ordinary. They were going to meet with him in Kansas City to start looking at other causes for his migraines and other treatments. The doctor had been hopeful that they could get his pain under control.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Sandy said. “But you should call Joe.”
“I don’t think so,” Leslie said. “Let it go, Sandy. Let him go.”
This time it hurt so much more than Hawaii. He knew he’d gotten his hopes up too much then that the two of them could start something real. But now?
Leslie trudged to his bedroom, vaguely aware that Sandy was still talking to him.
He undressed, showered, and fell into bed, his ears ringing and pain scrambling behind his eyes for purchase.
His phone buzzed and he picked it up, the light searing his retinas.
I’m sorry. Please say we can talk about this tomorrow?
Leslie didn’t know how to answer, didn’t even know what to say.
Talk later. Sleep now.
It was all he could do to keep his eyes open long enough to hit send before he dropped his phone on the floor.
The ruckus the next morning—it could only be described as a ruckus—roused Leslie from sleep and into misery.
His door opened and he threw an arm over his eyes to keep the light out.
It sounded like twenty people were shouting, but only one came inside.
Leslie swore as the door closed, and then a weight settled on the bed next to him and he felt soft hands on his forehead.
“You big infuriating man.”
Joe. Why was he here? Questions flooded Leslie’s mind but he heard Joe shush him.
“Don’t talk. I’m mad at you. You just lay here and let me take care of you, Sasquatch.”
Leslie wanted to laugh, but tears stung his eyes, adding to the misery.
He couldn’t imagine why Joe was there, but he didn’t want to fight.
He sighed and scooted over, giving Joe enough space to slide in next to him.
He focused on Joe’s healing touch, the gentle pressure over his forehead, cheekbones, and cranium easing him into comfortable sleep.
Each time he woke over that day, Joe was there to give him water, to make him eat bits of soup and bread he recognized as being Agnes’s creations. Joe whispered softly to him, but the words were meant to ease, meant to keep Leslie relaxed, allowing his body to shake off this latest impairment.
He woke sometime in the evening pain-free and found Joe snuggled up to him, breathing deeply and evenly. Leslie got up to use the bathroom and rinsed off in the shower without waking him and when he returned, he tried not to disturb Joe, but Joe flung an arm and a leg over Leslie.
“How are you feeling?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“Better. Everything’s better with you. ”
Joe smiled and pressed a kiss into Leslie’s jaw, and Leslie couldn’t resist kissing him back.
What started out as light, breezy kisses grew needy and desperate.
There was a lot that needed saying, but Leslie didn’t want to think about all the reasons he should stop, should tell Joe to go.
He didn’t want clothes to stop him, didn’t want anything between them, especially not more angry words.
He wanted Joe and if this was the end, at least he’d have this memory to cling to.
“Leslie?” Joe asked as Leslie untied Joe’s joggers and slid his hands underneath, cupping Joe’s ass over the fabric of his trunks. “Baby?”
“Will you let me have you?” Leslie asked.
Joe gazed up at him, questioning him, probably wondering how Leslie could have said one thing yesterday and now…Leslie didn’t have the words, but he had the feelings, and he needed to show Joe how important he was, why he’d been holding on so tightly.
Joe answered his question by removing his shirt and sliding out of his trunks. He held out his arms to Leslie and Leslie covered his body, sliding in between Joe’s open thighs.
“Do you have—”
Leslie reached over to his bedside table and pulled a bottle of lube and a condom out of the drawer. He moved on autopilot because if he thought too much about what they were about to do, it would be over before it started. A crease formed on Joe’s forehead as if he were unsure.
“Tell me when you’re ready. I don’t want to hurt you,” Leslie said, his voice cracking.
Joe nodded and reached for Leslie’s hand, guiding it to his opening.
Leslie tried to be careful; he was as gentle as he could possibly be as Joe fought to relax and let Leslie’s fingers in.
Joe’s breath caught and he moaned, his whole body shaking.
He let his legs fall impossibly wide open and Leslie moved down to place kisses on Joe’s pelvis, on his sac, on his shaft.
Leslie draped Joe’s legs over his shoulders and bent down further to use his tongue to help relax Joe.
He loved being this close to him, this intimate.
He loved how open Joe was with him, how he writhed against Leslie’s face, how he cried out Leslie’s name over and over, how he held onto Leslie’s left hand with a death grip.
“I’m sorry I’m not… I haven’t even waxed.” Joe groaned and Leslie laughed .
“I love your hair. Don’t ever wax on my account. I love it.”
Joe placed his hand on Leslie’s cheek, forcing him to look into Joe’s eyes.
“I love you , Leslie Payton. So much. Please know that.”
Leslie moved up and smiled at Joe. “I know. I know you do.” He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on thoughts of “but is it enough?”
Leslie slid on the condom and held his cock against Joe. Joe nodded. “Yeah, come on. Be in me.”
Leslie’s bad knee ached and his body was tired, but he shut it all out as he pushed himself past Joe’s tight opening.
They both cried out at their joining. They had yet to do this.
All of their previous nights together they’d either been too tired to do more than just hold each other and kiss, or they’d spent hours discovering all the ways the other liked to be touched, kissed, licked, and bit and then they rode that edge as long as they possibly could.