Chapter 8 #3
“Hm.” Jake turned his head, brushing his lips along the exposed line of skin above Toby's collar. “I was a dumb, cocky kid. Got lucky a bunch of times.”
Toby turned and kissed him deep, no dallying about it, and Jake got the message. The kiss lingered, and they paused with their foreheads touching, breath mingling, before Toby turned to take another sip.
“Still,” Jake said finally, “I gotta say my twenty-first was my favorite.” The fact it had been his first birthday with Toby outside Freak Camp would’ve put it on top regardless, but Toby had made it awesome and delicious in ways he’d never expected.
Toby rolled his eyes. “You’re a sucker for breakfast in bed.”
“More like I’m a sucker for you every time.”
Toby sighed, but it was completely different this time around.
He slouched deeper into Jake’s hold. Jake tucked his nose under Toby's ear and just took a breath. Toby’s curls tickled his cheek, the smell of his shampoo sweet and comfortingly familiar.
He was a big fan of how Toby had started growing his hair longer, so it almost brushed his shoulders.
The cosmo was mostly gone when Toby said, “So, uh, my lips are . . . tingling? That thing I’ve read about?” He rested his chin on Jake’s shoulder, playing idly with Jake’s fingers between his own.
“Yeah?” Jake said, intrigued. “How you feeling otherwise?”
“Pretty good.” Toby blinked slowly. “This is nice. The room feels . . . far away. Like it’s not really there. I see why people like this.” He exhaled, turning his face to bury it in Jake’s neck. “You’re not drinking, right?”
“No way. You’ve seen me get Coke, and not the wild kind, this whole time.”
“Good. I’m not . . . I wouldn’t be very useful right now. Like if you started a fight.”
Jake snorted. “You’re in luck, ’cause I’m not gonna start a fight.”
“Sometimes you do,” Toby muttered. “You like to start shit. Sometimes for no reason.”
“Hey, I always got a reason.”
Toby turned his head and bit the top of Jake’s ear, lightly, but enough to make him jump and grab Toby's hip. “Dude!”
“Sometimes,” Toby murmured, and he met his eyes as Jake turned toward him, “your reasons are not very good.”
Jake chuckled, working his hand farther under Toby's undershirt to lay his palm against the warm skin of Toby's back, well out of sight from anyone looking their way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my reasons are awesome. But I’m not starting anything tonight.
This is your night, and I’m not gonna leave your side. When we go, we’re going together.”
“Unless,” Toby said, with very precise pronunciation, “one of us is going to the bathroom.”
“Well, yeah. We can make that journey on our own.”
Toby tapped his glass. “One more. Then we’re going home.”
Halfway through the second cosmo, Toby asked abruptly, “You know my favorite m’seum exhibit? It was German. Kal—Kalckreuth. Him. We saw ’em in Los Angeles. Do you remember? All the paints, paintings of the ocean. The big ones, with the waves.”
“Oh yeah,” Jake said. “Yeah, Toby, I remember those.” They’d been larger than average, but Jake probably wouldn’t have remembered except Toby's glee had been less contained than usual, even in a crowd.
Toby seemed to have a hard time focusing on his face, but he was trying, his manner intent now, except for the distraction of Jake’s hand between his.
“Those are just like the ocean. You showed me the ocean. That’s what they remind me of, that first whoa!
That’s why I like to look at them, it’s like .
. . being there again. And he understood that, he got it, that Kalckreuth dude. ”
“Huh.” Jake tipped his head back, doing some quick calculations. “We could check out that museum again. Only take a couple of days.”
Toby snorted, warm breath against Jake’s neck. “Exhibit’s pro’ly gone. Pro-bab-ly.” He enunciated carefully, but his eyes fluttered shut.
“You think I can’t track it down?”
Toby laughed, and the sound moved down his body in a shiver. Shit, Jake needed to get Toby home.
“’S time to go,” Toby announced.
No surprise they were on the same page. “You ready?”
“Mmhmm. Not ’cause I—feel different, like, bad—just. Not sure I can walk right.”
“Okay, I gotcha.” Jake didn’t ask what Toby meant by feeling different-like-bad, but he had a feeling Toby wasn’t talking about needing to puke.
Getting out of the booth required some coaxing, support, and a few contortions that reminded Jake of the time he’d played Twister in junior high, but they managed it. Then, with his arm around Toby's back and Toby's around his waist, they made their way out of the restaurant and into the night.
* * *
Tobias woke with sunlight streaming through their window, his head heavy and the smell of bacon in the air.
He felt groggy, confused, and blurry, and for just a second worry tried to push through the haze.
Then he remembered. The old fashioneds, then the cosmos.
The sharp taste of alcohol and the soft blur of the world as it faded out.
The unshakable feel of Jake at his side, under his arm.
He didn’t feel any different. There had been water, a couple proactive pain pills, and slow making out last night before they tumbled into bed, and today he felt like himself.
It had just been a few hours where everything had felt a little less sharp, softened in a way that he’d never felt outside of a head injury.
It could have been terrifying. Looking back, it didn’t feel like it would be attractive at all. Except for how he could remember Jake smiling at him, Jake’s arm around his shoulders. That had given everything a joy that easily made it . . . good.
He untangled himself from the covers, stretching as he got to his feet, and wandered down the hall to the kitchen.
He was just in time to see Jake pour batter into the griddle for their first pancake.
He saw Tobias, and a grin broke out over his face.
When he reached out, Tobias let himself be pulled into Jake’s arms for a good morning kiss.
Like every morning, it felt like coming home.
“Hey, beautiful,” Jake said. “How’re you feeling?”
Tobias made a face. “Thirsty. Head’s kind of thick, but it doesn’t really hurt.”
“Awesome. Get some coffee and knock back some more aspirin, I left it out on the counter.”
Tobias grabbed the meds and a mug of coffee and settled at the table to munch on bacon and wait for Jake to finish the pancakes.
They had consumed nearly the whole stack, and Tobias's proto-headache had faded, when Jake knocked his foot. Tobias gave him a look, and Jake grinned.
“Told you so,” he said.
Tobias glared. “It went okay once. That doesn’t mean you get to—”
“Actually, that’s exactly what it means, that I am a goddamn genius who you should listen to every time.”
“—be insufferable about it,” Tobias finished. “But fine, you get one good gloat.”
“C’mon, admit it. I was right. You’re a freaking adorable drunk. The kind that gets all handsy and likes to talk about his favorite paintings. Real scary.”
Tobias made a face at him, even though he could feel his cheeks redden. “It’s not something I want to make a habit of.”
“Sure,” Jake said. “I get that. But are you worried about it anymore?”
Tobias thought about it. He still didn’t want to be even a little tipsy whenever there was a chance of a fight.
But he could see the appeal of making the world feel less real, less threatening.
And to be honest with himself, he wasn’t afraid anymore that his own drinking would bring out something ugly.
“No,” he said. “I guess I’m not.”
Jake lifted his orange juice with that easy, cocky smirk that drove Tobias half-crazy and half in love every time he saw it. “Happy twenty-first, tiger. May you see many more oceans.”
Tobias smiled back at him and raised his own glass. “Here’s to many more birthdays with the best thing in the world.”
“Really awesome cheesecake?”
“You.” Tobias sipped his drink, savoring the joy that lit up Jake’s face.