Pieces of Home

66. Chapter Sixty-Five

Chapter Sixty-Five

Jake

Jake stood at the kitchen counter, sipping tea and staring out toward the inky blackness beyond the wall of windows on the far side of his living room. His chest felt tight as his mind wandered, and he set down his mug and ran a hand through his hair, still slightly damp from the shower he’d just taken.

Three days now. Rye had been staying here with him for three wonderful, amazing days, and they still had another week together before Shirley, Tanya, and Jon came back from their cruise.

But honestly, Jake was already thinking ahead to after that. Because these last three days might have been some of the best days of his life, and he almost couldn’t imagine going back to how things had been without Rye here.

He was so in love, and Rye knew it now. Not only that, but Rye loved him too. The small, tentative words he’d told Jake two nights ago had made every single moment they’d spent together since, every single one of their touches and kisses more... more . Sweeter. More tender. More beautiful.

And he wanted it to stay just like this. He wanted to ask Rye to move in here with him.

The feeling was so strong, almost visceral, and Jake had certainly never felt anything like it before. Yet it seemed too fast, and it made him more nervous than anything else had so far. Because from the very first moment he’d met Rye, over a year and a half ago now, all Rye had ever really wanted was to go home to be with his mom, to go back to the place where he’d grown up, the place that had been stolen from him, that place of safety and love.

Jake knew Rye felt comfortable here, too, at Jake’s home, but it wasn’t home home for Rye. And so, Jake was hesitant. He knew they should talk—they had other reasons to need to talk as well, other reasons that had gotten harder and harder to ignore the last few days—but that also made Jake nervous .

Krista would tell him to stop being a lunkhead and just talk to Rye about how he was feeling, in a careful way, of course. And she was probably right. She was usually right. So maybe that was what he should do.

Quiet sounds from down the hallway pulled Jake out of his introspection, and he turned to see his boyfriend padding down the hall toward him, a book in hand and his reading glasses perched up on his head. Rye smiled when their eyes met, and that made Jake’s heart stutter with some unsteady rhythm.

God, he was gorgeous.

Jake tried to recover enough to remember what he’d been doing while Rye had been taking his shower and getting changed into his pajamas, but his brain seemed offline now, and all he could do was stare. Rye’s smile turned crooked, a little silly, and Rye shook his head and held up his book.

“You said we’d read, right? I brought a book. Where’s yours?”

Jake blinked. “Huh? A book?”

With another shake of his head and a small laugh, Rye angled toward the couch. “Here, we can both read mine. If you don’t mind YA fantasy, that is. It’s a new one I just picked up from the bookstore yesterday. Janice recommended it.”

Finally pulling himself out of the trance he’d fallen into, Jake straightened up and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure, that’ll work,” he said, picking up his mug again as well as the other mug of tea he’d prepared for Rye. He started over to the couch to meet Rye, and they stopped together right at the corner. Rye smiled up at him and took the mug Jake offered.

“Thanks.” Rye stretched up and kissed Jake’s lips—a short, sweet kiss that made heat flare to life in Jake’s chest. And when Rye pulled back, he was grinning. He tilted his head toward the couch. “Come on.”

Together, they settled into one corner of the couch, Rye curled up against Jake’s chest in his usual spot. They both set their tea down on the coffee table, and Rye opened the book up to the first page.

“Just tell me when you’re ready to go on to the next page,” Rye said as he positioned the book so they could both read.

Jake nodded, though he was quite sure he wouldn’t be processing a single word of the book. He’d slipped his arm around Rye’s shoulders, his hand lightly gripping Rye’s upper arm, and he rubbed up and down gently, relishing the feel of bare skin against his palm. Rye usually wore long-sleeved T-shirts, except to sleep in, and this was the first time they’d come back to the couch to cuddle after getting ready for bed. Jake... appreciated this T-shirt much too much, it seemed.

He closed his eyes. Oh, yeah, he wasn’t getting any reading done tonight.

His hand stopped moving on Rye’s arm in some attempt to rein in his reaction. But when Rye made a small sound deep in his throat, a quiet whimper, Jake frowned, even as his body responded to the sound with another of those wonderful rushes of heat through his chest.

“Sorry, I’m distracting you,” he murmured, and he turned and placed a light kiss against Rye’s temple before letting his arm shift to rest along the back of the couch instead of around Rye’s shoulders. But apparently, that wasn’t what Rye wanted after all, because he laughed and shook his head, and then he reached back, took Jake’s hand, and brought it to his shoulder again.

“Distract me, please,” Rye said, his voice low and with a note to it that Jake had only started to hear maybe within the last day or two.

Oh, boy, they needed to talk.

He lowered his head for another kiss, this time pressed into Rye’s hair, and he let his hand drift up and down Rye’s arm. Rye hummed contentedly, wriggled around as though to find the perfect comfortable spot, and then held the book open again to that very first page, resting his hands on Jake’s thigh. But he must have just been pretending to read, because he shifted the book a little and sort of... pressed down into Jake’s thigh more than strictly necessary. Maybe.

Jake was probably imagining it. But he suddenly found himself happy he’d opted to slip on some joggers over his sleep shorts all the same. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to keep his body from reacting had Rye been touching his bare skin.

And just that mental image sent a rush of desire through him. He closed his eyes and groaned inwardly, sucking in a breath.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you ready for the next page?” Rye’s hands shifted on Jake’s leg, and Jake was now acutely aware of everything—of Rye’s undoubtedly innocent touch, the heat spreading both upward into his cheeks and down lower, the want and desire , both more than he’d ever felt before.

“Mmm, um, I . . .”

God, they should talk. Right?

Jake needed to get a hold of himself, for one thing; after all, he had no desire to do anything more than whatever Rye was ready for, and he didn’t want Rye to feel any pressure at all. But also, all these feelings were so incredibly new for Jake still, and he’d never really had to learn how to deal with them before.

It was almost like... like if it continued this way much longer, he’d need to... to go and take care of things himself. In his bedroom. Alone.

He cringed. “Rye, um, I’m feeling a bit, um... uncomfortable,” he admitted, and something almost like shame burned his cheeks .

Immediately, Rye closed the book and shifted in Jake’s arms to look up at Jake over the top of his reading glasses. His eyebrows pinched together in confusion, and he frowned.

“Sorry,” Jake apologized, swallowing hard. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just, um”—he closed his eyes and dropped his chin a bit—“can you, maybe, not put your hand on my leg? Maybe. It’s, um, more than just distracting.”

And when he said it out loud, it felt even more silly.

But he felt Rye move away for a moment to set the book and what sounded like his reading glasses on the coffee table. Then Rye’s hand found Jake’s chest. Rye didn’t say anything, but he settled his head into the crook of Jake’s shoulder. The silence persisted for a few more seconds, until Rye moved again, his hand coming up to touch Jake’s cheek.

“I . . . I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, no.” Jake shook his head and opened his eyes. Rye was looking up at him, soft concern in his expression. “What are you sorry for?”

With a tight smile, Rye’s hand traced a path back down to Jake’s chest. “For assuming you’d be okay with... whatever I felt ready for.”

So Jake hadn’t been imagining it. Rye had been... exploring. More heat shot into Jake’s cheeks, and he pursed his lips and lowered his eyes to where Rye’s hand rested, right in the center of his chest. He could still feel it, though, the pressure of Rye’s hand on his thigh from a moment ago. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

“It’s not—it’s not that I’m not okay with it,” he said, stumbling slightly over his words. “It’s that, uh, I’m not used to my body reacting like it has been.” His cheeks seemed to grow hotter still, and he screwed his eyes shut, willing the words to come out, no matter how awkward they sounded. “And I don’t want to—to, uh...” He failed, though, because he realized he had no idea how the hell was he supposed to say anything without possibly upsetting Rye in some way. They obviously needed to discuss it, but he wasn’t really even sure how careful he needed to be with his words. He frowned and cleared his throat to try again.

“We haven’t talked about things—about being intimate, I mean,” he started, “and I don’t want to, um, make any assumptions about what you’re comfortable with. I also... I can control my actions, of course, but I apparently can’t control my body’s re actions, and you touching me like you were...” Jake trailed off, and he let his eyes open partway so he could see Rye.

Rye still had his head resting up against Jake’s chest, but now his fingers were playing with the fabric of Jake’s shirt. He didn’t seem nervous, and he hadn’t retreated or tensed up or stopped being able to communicate. But Jake had been skirting around the issue. Not using specific words. Not saying the things he really needed to say.

“I remember telling you I didn’t know if I’d ever want to kiss you,” Rye said quietly, his fingers stilling on Jake’s shirt. He flattened his palm and pressed his hand lightly against Jake, and Jake felt the warmth of his breath as Rye let out a long, slow sigh, burrowing his head deeper into Jake’s shoulder.

“Yeah. And you said the same about—” This time, Jake did feel Rye tense, and he immediately stopped, his heart clenching. “Sorry.”

But then Rye shook his head and started talking again, his words slow but clear. “I really didn’t think I’d ever want it then. Even just to kiss you. Everything was all so... so tainted from what... happened to me. I don’t want to talk about that, though. I just want... I just want you to know that I know now.”

“What do you know?” Jake asked softly, lowering his cheek to rest against the top of Rye’s head.

Rye was quiet for another moment, then he took a deep breath and continued. “I... do want... it. I mean, I don’t want... um—” Rye shook his head, and his hand gripped Jake’s shirt.

A wave of strong, unsettling emotions hit Jake, and for a second, he couldn’t get himself to take a breath. He didn’t know whether to wait for Rye to continue or to try to fill in the blanks. He thought he had a pretty good idea where Rye had been going and what he’d been about to say, but hell if that wasn’t an even more difficult thing to talk about.

At least, if he was right, he could tell Rye they were one hundred percent on the same page. “I think I know what you were going to say, but I don’t want to bring it up if not.”

Rye nodded into him. “You’re probably right. I mean, you probably... knew what I was going to say. Um, I was—I was going to say that I do want to, um, be intimate with you, but that I’ll never want... um...”

Again, Rye’s hand tightened on Jake’s shirt, and Jake screwed his eyes shut, his heart aching with all of his boyfriend’s pain.

He let his hand rub slowly and ever so gently down Rye’s arm, making sure Rye was still okay with the touch, and then he breathed deeply and said words he hoped would help. “I don’t want that either. I know a lot of gay men do. Maybe, uh, most gay men. I’m not really sure. And I know that, well, I’ve never really even had feelings like this before—where I even want intimacy with another person at all. Not until this. Not until you. But, um, that ”—he swallowed, not wanting to inadvertently push Rye to a worse place—“um, having sex in that way, if we are talking about the same thing...” Rye nodded, his body still tense. Jake kissed the top of Rye’s head and then continued, telling Rye his truth. “Yeah, that—that’s really just something I’m not interested in. It’s never been something I’ve been interested in.”

For the first time since they’d settled on the couch together, Rye pulled away, though he did so slowly, almost reluctantly. He turned until he was facing Jake, sitting cross-legged, and he crossed his arms over his midsection, shrinking in on himself.

Jake frowned. “Sorry, I—”

“No, it’s . . . it’s okay,” Rye assured him, and he let out another breath. “I just need a minute without . . . without . . .”

Touching. Without Jake touching him. Because it was becoming overwhelming. Jake could almost hear those words, even though Rye hadn’t said them, and he nodded. “Of course, yeah.”

“You can... you can keep talking, though. I... like to hear you talk. It helps. I just need a little space. Just... just for a few minutes.”

“I can do that. What do you want me to talk about?”

“Dolphins,” Rye answered immediately. “Tell me about dolphins.”

Jake smiled weakly. “I can talk about dolphins all day. Ah, how about I tell you about this time I went down to this marine mammal rehabilitation center in Los Angeles, and I got to actually get in the water with a dolphin named Gigi. I was fifteen, I think. It was amazing. So...”

And so he talked. He told Rye about that trip he’d taken, although he couldn’t really remember a lot of the details. When that story was done, he started talking about something else—still dolphins, but this time mostly about the dolphins he’d seen in this area, from his patio. Pacific white-sided dolphins, mostly, and some other species.

Rye slowly migrated closer again, until he settled back into his spot against Jake’s chest. His hand touched Jake’s thigh, but the touch was tentative and very light. And although Jake felt the same arousal he had earlier, it was tempered now by the seriousness of the discussion they’d had.

Jake breathed a quiet kiss into Rye’s hair. “It’s late. Should we talk more, or actually read now?”

Rye laughed a little and seemed to finally relax against Jake. And while he didn’t answer Jake’s question, his hand crept up a little higher on Jake’s thigh.

Jake inhaled a sharp, short breath. “Or, that. You could do that.”

“Is it okay?” Rye asked, and Jake nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.”

Rye laughed again, but then he went silent. His hand continued to move, up a little more, but then back down, almost to Jake’s knee and then inward a little .

Jake’s heart hammered in his chest, and he closed his eyes as a quiet moan escaped him. Rye’s hand stopped, pressing into his inner thigh.

God.

“I... want to talk a little more, maybe,” Rye said. “I think I want to tell you... what I’ve been thinking about. Or maybe I can just show you. If that’s okay?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Jake said on a rough breath. He lifted his head, and Rye glanced up at him, his eyes almost dark with what Jake could only interpret as want. And that was new.

“Stop me if this isn’t okay?” Rye said, still looking up at Jake.

With a nod, Jake brought his free hand up and cupped Rye’s cheek, letting his thumb smooth along Rye’s soft skin. Then he dipped down and brushed a light kiss on Rye’s lips, not daring to deepen it. When he pulled back and straightened up, Rye had closed his eyes, his expression almost blissful. Jake bent down for another kiss, and this time, Rye met him in it, his lips moving with Jake’s, caressing and soft and warm, but with an insistence that hadn’t been there before.

When Jake broke the kiss this time, he was breathing hard, and Rye laughed and buried his head in Jake’s chest.

“I-I love... kissing you,” Rye said, breathless. “And like I said, um, I do want more. I just don’t know when. Or how long it will take me to get there. And I think... I think it’ll be better or—or maybe easier is the right word, if, um... if I... touch you first. Instead of you touching me.”

Jake started to respond, to say he understood and was up for whatever Rye wanted to try now that he knew they were on the same page. But as soon as Rye’s hand started sliding upward, inching under Jake’s shirt until his fingers brushed just along Jake’s skin above the hem of his pants, all of his thoughts left him. The touch was like fire trailing along his stomach, searing into him. Exquisite and intense and loving all at the same time.

A low moan rumbled in his chest, and he felt himself stir—a low heat and tension and a pulse of arousal unlike he’d ever felt before. He moaned again, and suddenly, Rye’s lips were on his, swallowing the sound. They kissed—deeply this time, and Rye’s hand continued its path just above the hem of Jake’s pants, all the way out to his hip and then back.

The next time Jake moaned, Rye pulled back with a small huff. “I’m barely touching you. Does it really feel that good?” Rye asked, but all Jake could do was nod, especially when Rye’s hand changed direction, moving in a slow, smooth stroke partway up to his chest .

He did manage to speak after another moment, when Rye stopped moving and let his fingers tease in the light dusting of hair on Jake’s chest. “It feels so good,” he said. “Are you okay?”

Rye nodded, and he pulled his hand back and settled it over Jake’s shirt, resting his head against Jake’s shoulder. “I’m okay. I feel so safe with you. And I feel, um...” He seemed to bury his head deeper into Jake’s shoulder, as though maybe he were embarrassed.

Jake understood, and his cheeks heated up again as he bent down and kissed the top of Rye’s head. “Me too. And it feels amazing.”

“...It does. And I never thought I’d say that.”

A rush of love and relief and even more emotions overwhelmed Jake then, and he gathered Rye up in his arms, holding him close, as his body shuddered. “I’m so glad you’re here with me,” he murmured. “I love you so much. I love this . I love us . I can’t think of anything more perfect than just being here with you. Thank you.”

He had so much more to say, but Rye was already shaking his head, pulling away to look up at him with bright eyes full of love. They came together in another soft kiss, and when they parted, Rye wrapped his arms around Jake’s midsection and squeezed him tight.

“It’s pretty perfect right here, isn’t it?” Rye said.

And Jake just nodded in agreement as he returned Rye’s hug. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.