Pieces of Home

71. Chapter Seventy

Chapter Seventy

Rye

Rye carefully placed the last of the dishes into the dishwasher and closed it, drying his hands on a dish towel as he turned around. The house was quiet and still now. Jon and Tanya had left maybe an hour ago, and his mom had gone to her room to unpack her bag while he’d finished doing the dishes.

He let his gaze wander out over the open room and blinked. He’d been feeling an odd sense of detachment from it—the house and his home—all afternoon, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Seeing his mom again, when she, Jon, and Tanya had arrived home after a long morning of driving, had been wonderful. She’d cried, which Rye had expected, and she’d held him for a good three or four minutes before releasing him to give Jake a hug that was nearly as long.

Rye grinned at the memory—seeing his mom, who was even shorter than he was, hugging Rye’s giant of a boyfriend had been almost comical. Jake had stayed just through lunch and then excused himself to go home, telling Rye he’d text later, and Rye had spent most of the rest of the afternoon and evening with his family, listening to them tell him all about their trip as they showed him the dozens and dozens of pictures they’d taken.

But when Jake had left... that had been when this sense of detachment had started. He frowned as he glanced toward the front door.

Yeah. When Jake had left. That was when it had started.

“Oh, sweetie, that was so nice of you to do the dishes, and after you took care of all the cooking too.”

Rye tore his gaze away from the front door to see his mom padding over from the hallway. She was smiling softly at him, but her eyes were tired. He gave her a small smile in return, set the dish towel down on the counter, and straightened up as she approached .

“I tell you, I’m just exhausted. I need a vacation from my vacation.” She laughed, though it was subdued, and then she opened up her arms in invitation. Rye’s heart did something a little funny as he pushed away from the counter and stepped toward her. “I think I’m going to be heading to bed,” she said, and her arms wrapped low around his waist. “Oh, oh, how I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, mama,” he whispered into her hair, and he hugged her right back.

She pulled away after not too long this time, and when she looked up at him again, her eyes shone with some deep emotion he couldn’t quite interpret. She stared at him for a second, as though maybe she were gathering her thoughts to say something, but then she just set her hands on his upper arms and squeezed gently.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

Rye gave her another smile and a nod.

“Okay.” Her eyes almost looked sad, and he wondered what she was thinking. But he didn’t ask. “Good night, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you, too, mama.”

She hugged him once more, briefly, and kissed his cheek, then disappeared back down the hallway. A moment later, Rye heard the door to her bedroom click shut softly, and he followed, taking one last look around the room before he headed down the hallway toward his own bedroom.

A half hour later, after a nice, hot shower, Rye crawled under the covers in his own bed in his own room and picked up his cell phone from the nightstand. Then he lay on his back, his knees bent up, and opened up his messenger app to type out a short text to his boyfriend.

Rye (10:43 p.m.): Just getting into bed now. You still up?

Rye stared at his phone, waiting for a response. It didn’t take long, and his heart fluttered in his chest as Jake’s message popped up on the screen.

Jake (10:44 p.m.): Yup. I just finished talking to Kris a few minutes ago. Heading to bed in a bit

Jake (10:44 p.m.): Are you doing okay? I hope you had a great evening with your family

Jake (10:45 p.m.): I love you 3

The pleasant swoop in Rye’s stomach was followed almost immediately by a sadness, a longing, and along with that, a ghost touch—fingers brushing along his cheek, a warm breath whispering in his ear, a kiss pressed to the top of his head. He closed his eyes.

God, how he wished . . .

Pursing his lips, he forced his eyes open so he could text Jake back.

Rye (10:47 p.m.): I’m doing good. The afternoon and evening were great. I think my mom and Aunt Tanya showed me about eleven billion photos from their trip. It was fun :)

He hit send, even though he hadn’t said everything he’d wanted to. He started typing again, only to erase it and start over. And he did that again and again, all the variations of I missed you, I wished you’d been here just not really communicating exactly what he wanted them to. Finally, he settled simply on Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you , and then he closed his eyes and set his phone down on the bed next to him.

God, he wished Jake were here. Or he was there, with Jake. Just that they were together still. He missed it already—being in Jake’s arms, cuddling in that spot he’d come to love so much, feeling Jake’s strong arms surrounding him. He missed the warmth of Jake’s embrace, the feeling of closing his eyes and just knowing that he was... right where he was meant to be.

He missed the comfort of it. The familiarity. The sense of safety and belonging. The love.

His phone buzzed, and he sighed and lifted it up again.

Jake (10:51 p.m.): Tomorrow 3

Jake (10:51 p.m.): I hope you sleep well. Good night. I love you

Jake (10:51 p.m.): (yeah, I said that already, but I wanted to say it again) 3

Rye’s heart ached as he read the messages, that same deep longing tugging at him, and he actually turned over onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow.

I miss you. I love you. I want to be there with you.

The feelings were strong and a little disorienting, and when Rye turned his head and opened his eyes, gazing at what he could see of his bedroom from this angle, he felt that same odd detachment he’d been feeling all afternoon and evening. He didn’t want to put words to it, though, because he finally thought maybe he understood it.

And it was scary.

But as he lay there, still staring at the bedroom he called his in the house he’d been calling his home, he realized even if it was scary, he knew exactly what he wanted and exactly what he needed. And he knew it was going to have to be him to make the first move.

He was going to have to initiate.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he took two measured, slow breaths. Then he sat up, stuffed his phone into the pocket of his pajama pants, and stood. He quietly tiptoed out of his room and down the hallway until he was in front of his mom’s bedroom door. Biting his lip, he knocked lightly three times. When he heard his mom’s sleep-filled voice call for him to come on in, he turned the door handle, pushed the door open partway, and peeked in across the dimly lit room to where his mom sat up in the bed, having just switched on her bedside lamp.

“What is it, sweetie? Are you okay?”

“Mama, I... I need to talk to you about something.”

Rye’s mom pulled her car up into the driveway at Jake’s house and parked right behind Jake’s sedan. She didn’t shut off the engine, but as soon as she shifted the car into park, she turned and pulled Rye into an embrace .

He could feel her shaking a bit, but at the same time, he felt all of her love and all of her support, especially when she whispered in his ear, “I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you, too, mama,” he whispered back, and he kissed her cheek and hugged her as best he could in the small space of the car.

Her words from earlier, words full of understanding and support, still surrounded him as he straightened up, blinking back tears of his own. She was still crying. He bit his lip, then started to open his mouth to say something. Something like, Maybe it doesn’t have to be tonight, mama . But she shook her head.

“This is what’s right for you, Ryan. I believe that,” she said softly, echoing what she’d told him not more than an hour ago. “I’m crying, yes, but there’s joy in it too. I love to know you’re happy and loved and safe, and Jake gives you all of that. You’ll always have a home with me. You’ll always be my baby. I’ll always, always love you. But I believe... you have another home now, too. With Jake. And I’m so grateful for that.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and then offered him a tight but genuine smile. “Now go on, get outta here. I love you, sweetie.”

His chest felt so tight, full of love and gratitude for his mom, and he wiped his own tears off his cheeks, leaned over, and gave her one more hug before climbing out of the car. Then he grabbed his duffle bag from the back seat and headed up to the front porch, which was well lit by both Jake’s porch light and the headlights on his mom’s car.

With a slow exhale, Rye lifted his hand and rang the doorbell. Then he waited. It was a good minute or more before he heard sounds from inside the house, and he saw lights come on through the front windows.

Nervousness churned in his stomach, and it only then occurred to him that maybe he should have texted Jake first to make sure this was okay. He almost turned around and headed back to his mom’s car, but then the door handle started to turn. He forced himself to take a slow, deep breath and lifted his eyes as the door inched open.

Jake stood on the other side, his sleepy eyes filled with confusion but also something else—hope, maybe?—and he blinked and shook his head. “Hi, Rye, um...”

Without a word of explanation, Rye dropped his duffle bag and stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jake’s waist, pressing his cheek against Jake’s chest. And that weird feeling he’d been having all day—whatever it was—disappeared, replaced with love and a sense of wholeness.

This was where he belonged. With Jake. This was... this was home .

“I missed you,” he mumbled, squeezing Jake to him or him to Jake, he wasn’t really sure which .

In response, Jake’s arms came around him slowly, the embrace surrounding him with warmth and love. “I missed you, too.” Jake kissed the top of Rye’s head, and his arms seemed to tighten around Rye, holding him even closer.

Rye let out a ragged breath and then said, “Can I... can I stay? Here, with you? I...” He trailed off, unsure of how exactly to explain all of the feelings he’d been struggling with over the last few hours. He pulled back and looked up, and his boyfriend’s kind eyes gazed back at him. He saw love, first and foremost. Love and concern, and yes, hope. So much hope. It filled his heart with joy. He took another breath and then tried to explain, speaking as clearly and slowly as he could so maybe his words wouldn’t fail him. “As soon as you left today, I just didn’t feel right, and it took me all afternoon and evening to figure out why. And it’s that I want to be here, with you. Wherever you are. Because that’s... that’s where I feel safest and the most comfortable. That’s where I’m happy and where I can really be myself. That’s where... that’s where home is now.”

Rye’s jaw was trembling, and he slid his hands around to Jake’s chest and then up to cup Jake’s cheeks as he stretched up. Jake didn’t hesitate; he bent down to meet Rye, and they kissed, out there on Jake’s front porch, in the light of his mom’s car’s headlights, in their pajamas, at just after midnight. A slow kiss full of love and acceptance and joy.

Jake pulled back first, though he kept his arms tight around Rye, and Rye’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Jake’s answer. It was clear, even before Jake said the words. Rye could see the answer in his eyes, and it was unmistakable.

Jake dipped back down and kissed Rye’s forehead. “I would love it if you stayed,” he murmured, his voice catching. “It didn’t feel the same without you here.”

It shouldn’t have surprised Rye that Jake felt the same way, but relief hit him anyway, and he nodded and slid his hands back down Jake’s chest and then around his waist. And he rested his head against Jake, letting his body relax into his boyfriend’s embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Jake shuddered, and then Rye felt a light kiss on the top of his head. “I love that you’re here.”

And with those words, any lingering worry or unease vanished. Rye pulled back and looked up at Jake and just nodded, hoping—no, knowing that Jake would understand everything he hadn’t said. Jake’s entire expression softened—his eyes and his smile warm and full of love. And Rye felt heat rising in his cheeks.

Jake looked away for a moment, up and over Rye’s shoulder toward the driveway, and he felt Jake stiffen a bit .

“Your mom... she’s okay with this?” Jake blinked as he looked back down at Rye, and Rye nodded, though his heart ached a little.

“She’s supportive,” he said, “and . . . and she’s thankful that I . . . have you.”

Jake glanced back up, and Rye watched as he gave a small nod and wave. Then Jake stepped back, bent down, and picked up Rye’s bag for him.

“Let’s go inside?” Jake asked, and with an eager nod, Rye slipped his hand into Jake’s.

Together, they headed inside, and as soon as Rye stepped across the threshold, he knew he’d made the right decision.

“Mmm, this is . . . this is perfect,” Jake said, his breath warm against the top of Rye’s head, and Rye had to agree.

He ran his hand down Jake’s chest to his stomach, smiling to himself as he felt Jake shiver. Then he slid his leg up and over the top of Jake’s and tilted his head back. Jake hummed and bent down slightly, meeting Rye in a soft, sweet kiss.

It was also perfect.

He sat up just a little and then reached down and grabbed the comforter, pulling it up over them, up to his shoulders, and then he closed his eyes and snuggled up against Jake, in his spot. This perfect spot where he felt loved and comfortable and safe.

Then he shivered. And not because he was cold.

Jake kissed the top of his head. “I’d wanted to ask you to stay,” he admitted, the words no more than a quiet, almost tentative whisper. “I’d wanted to. But I didn’t want it to seem like I was pressuring you, or, um, trying to keep you from... from going back home. Or something. I guess it sounds silly when I say that out loud, but...”

It didn’t sound silly to Rye. In fact, it sounded just like Jake—kind and thoughtful and caring.

He shook his head slightly. “It’s not silly. I...” He dropped his chin and let out a sharp breath. He honestly wasn’t sure how he would have felt if Jake had asked him to stay before he’d reached the conclusion himself. There was a good chance he would have been perfectly fine, eager, excited even. And then an equally good chance it could have backfired and made Rye panic.

Jake’s fingers brushed along Rye’s jaw, and he lifted his chin again. “I’m happy you’re here. I absolutely love it. I want... I want nothing more than to be with you, to work every day to make you feel happy and safe. I cherish you. I cherish this. Us. Together.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rye said softly, and Jake nodded.

“You’re beautiful.” Heat flooded Rye’s cheeks, and he dipped his head again. But Jake hummed and lightly touched Rye’s chin. “It’s true. You are.”

They shared another kiss. And this time, Rye lingered in it, feeling the warmth spread all the way down to his toes. He moaned quietly and pushed himself up a little until he was resting almost on top of Jake, his knee wedged between Jake’s legs. Then he let his tongue peek out of his mouth, tease at Jake’s lips, and when Jake opened his mouth, Rye eagerly tasted him. It was more warmth, a silky heat, and intoxicating. Jake met him again and again as their tongues danced together, and when Rye finally broke the kiss however-long later, he was breathing hard. And aroused.

He lowered his forehead to rest in the crook of Jake’s neck, and then, after he’d had a moment to work up the courage, he asked, “Can you touch me tonight?” He tried to sound confident and sure. And to a degree, he was confident, because he trusted Jake completely. Also, he just really wanted to know what it felt like.

Even with the few little fumbles, their explorations earlier in the week had been empowering for him. That was probably the right word. Jake had let Rye set the pace with everything, and he’d been infinitely patient with Rye as Rye had explored both of their bodies, learning how intimacy could be pleasurable, wonderful, loving.

Something he hadn’t even considered to be possible until Jake had shown him.

A soft hum rumbled in Jake’s chest, and Jake’s large, warm hand rubbed down Rye’s back over his shirt, stopping low on his waist. “Mmm, I would love that,” Jake said, his voice low and deep.

Rye’s body reacted, though he wasn’t sure whether it was in response to Jake’s words or his tone, and he made some small sound and buried his face into Jake’s neck.

Jake’s fingers teased under the hem of Rye’s shirt. “Is this okay? Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” Rye managed, and when Jake’s hand flattened and smoothed along Rye’s lower back—careful but not hesitant—Rye closed his eyes and moaned. He turned his head slightly to breathe a trail of kisses along Jake’s neck, and Jake continued, his hand moving in slow, sensual strokes up and down Rye’s back. Rye’s skin tingled everywhere Jake touched, and he moaned again, muffling the sound into Jake’s chest this time, when Jake’s hand ran down his side.

Jake’s breathing was ragged, like Rye’s, strained inhales followed by sharp exhales, and when Rye shifted slightly so he was more on top of Jake, heat shot straight to his groin. His arousal throbbed against Jake’s thigh, and he clung to Jake and groaned.

And Jake definitely wasn’t unaffected. He wrapped both of his arms around Rye and held him tight. Then he let out a shaky breath. “God,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into Rye’s hair. “God, Rye, I can feel you. I can feel... Mmm.” There was a pause, and then Jake’s hand smoothed down Rye’s back again, up under his shirt, and along the curve of his waist out to his hip, searing Rye’s skin as it went. “Would you be okay with it if I... if I undressed you?” Jake asked quietly. And he didn’t say the words this time, but Rye could hear the clear “You can say no” at the end of Jake’s question.

He didn’t want to say no, though. He wanted... he wanted to feel his naked body pressed up against Jake’s. He wanted Jake to be able to touch him without any clothes in the way. He wanted to show Jake how much he trusted him.

Propping up on one arm, Rye forced himself to pause. He didn’t want to say no. But he also didn’t want any of those moments of panic he was prone to. Not even a small one. He pursed his lips as he looked down at his boyfriend, and then he nodded.

“But let... let me undress you, first?” Rye said, and Jake’s expression softened.

“Of course.”

With a tentative smile, Rye got to work. And he took his time, letting himself enjoy getting to know Jake’s body. After removing Jake’s T-shirt, Rye kissed his chest all over, lingering at this one spot just below Jake’s left pec where he’d found Jake to be really sensitive. Then he did something new. Something that scared him a little but that he immediately loved.

He scooted down Jake’s body a bit and shifted until he was straddling Jake’s hips. Which meant that—

Jake sucked in a breath at the same time Rye did, a sharp jolt coursing through him. Heat and arousal met at the same spot—where Rye’s hard shaft pressed into Jake’s. He uttered some nonsense words as his hands found Jake’s hips, and then he rocked slowly against Jake, watching as Jake groaned and pushed his head back into his pillow.

“God, that’s incredible,” Jake said, his voice strained. When Rye repeated the motion, a little more distinctly this time, Jake inhaled again and then made another sound—a moan or a whine of some sort. It was deep and needy, and Rye felt exactly the same. He dropped his chin to his chest and scooted down a few more inches, taking away some of that exquisite pressure he’d started building up.

He heard Jake let out a soft sigh, almost in relief, like it had been too much for Jake as well, and then Rye took a breath, steadying himself, before he continued. His hands slipped under Jake’s pajama pants—soft blue-and-gray flannel—and under the waistband of Jake’s briefs. Then he inched them down slowly, carefully, and Jake lifted his hips to help. After he’d slipped them off all the way, Rye tossed the pants and underwear onto the floor to join Jake’s shirt.

Then he spent time working his way back up Jake’s legs, rubbing his hands palms open along Jake’s calves and then up his outer thighs. He paused to be extra careful when he came to the large scar on Jake’s right thigh, and after he glanced up at Jake to make sure it was okay, he bent down and placed tiny kisses along the entire length of the scar. Then he straightened back up and continued on his way.

Jake had been quiet, except the occasional breathy moan, but when Rye repositioned himself again to straddle Jake’s thighs, Jake chuckled.

“My turn yet?” he asked with a silly half-smile.

Rye grinned and nodded, and then he closed his eyes. “Just go slow, please,” Rye said. He didn’t try to explain himself; he knew he didn’t need to.

And Jake complied one hundred percent. His hands were careful and oh-so gentle, his touch warm and soft as he lifted Rye’s shirt and slipped it off over Rye’s head. Then, he paused and took his time, like Rye had. Jake’s fingers grazed over Rye’s upper body, so slow and careful it almost tickled, and Rye just held himself still above Jake, quiet moans escaping him every once in a while as Jake continued touching him. Finally, both of Jake’s hands traveled lower, stopping at the waistband of Rye’s pants.

“You’re still okay with this?” Jake asked softly, and Rye nodded again.

As he had for Rye’s shirt, Jake went slowly, his fingers first just teasing under the edge of the cotton before starting to inch the material down. Little bit by little bit. Rye eventually had to shift off of Jake, and then he helped, pushing down his pants to free his growing arousal and kicking the clothing off to the floor to join Jake’s.

He expected all the rushes of icky feelings—shame, embarrassment, fear, panic—and he closed his eyes again and held his breath. But none of that came.

One of Jake’s hands rubbed lightly up Rye’s thigh to his hip. “Rye, my love, you’re absolutely beautiful.”

Jake’s voice tugged at him, warm and gentle and real, and Rye found himself shivering again. He moved back to that spot he’d found so intriguing moments ago—the one where he was straddling Jake near his hips. Then he reached back behind him and drew the comforter up over them as he leaned forward, letting their bodies touch.

It was... warm and safe. And when Jake wrapped both arms around Rye and whispered “I love you” in Rye’s ear, Rye realized just how right his decision had been .

“This... this might be my new favorite spot,” Rye said between breaths, and Jake made some quiet sound of agreement and rocked his hips. Their hard shafts pressed together, Jake’s thick length hot and insistent against Rye’s.

God, it felt exquisite, and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to have Jake do that again. Rye reached between them and shifted his hips slightly to give himself room. Then he flatted his palm and stroked slowly down Jake’s erection to the base.

“God, Rye,” Jake forced out, and then he groaned as he repeated the motion he had a minute ago, rocking his hips. Rye shuddered and closed his eyes with a low moan as Jake’s shaft slid up against his again. He heard Jake inhale a sharp breath. “Rye, Rye, if you—oh, oh, god, yeah.”

Rye gasped as he closed his hand around both of them this time, his fingers barely long enough to hold them together. Pleasure shot through him, and he thrust up into his hand gently as heat and need and tension coiled low in his groin.

“Touch me. Touch us with me,” Rye begged, knowing he, at least, wasn’t going to last very long like this. He was glad when Jake didn’t hesitate, and the second he felt Jake’s fingers close around his shaft just above his hand, Rye clenched his jaw to keep himself from crying out.

He’d never felt anything like this before. Not even close.

An intense pressure that was both pleasurable and almost painful began to build, and he muffled a moan as he buried his face in Jake’s chest. “Mmm, mmm, wait, wait, w—no, no, no, don’t... don’t wait, don’t wait...” He had no idea what he was saying, but the need for release was overpowering, and he whimpered. “Please, Jake. Please.”

His hand followed Jake’s then as they both pumped their shafts together, slowly, and it didn’t take much, not more than a few strokes before everything turned brilliant and bright and white. Waves of arousal and pleasure and heat crashed through him as his shaft stiffened and then pulsed with his release.

It was so much. So beautiful. So strong.

So perfect.

Jake came only seconds after Rye, and Rye felt Jake’s shaft throb as Jake’s free hand rubbed up Rye’s back, holding them together.

And that was even more perfect.

Exhausted, he lifted himself just enough off of Jake’s chest, and then he found Jake’s lips and they kissed, slowly, sweetly, lovingly. When they parted, Rye burrowed his head back into the crook of Jake’s neck, and they both released their shafts. Rye then collapsed, barely having the energy to shift slightly so he wasn’t directly on top of Jake.

They lay there together in silence for several minutes, both just catching their breaths. Jake continued to pepper occasional kisses into Rye’s hair, which felt more than amazing, and after probably a few more minutes, Jake excused himself to the bathroom. He returned moments later with a warm washcloth. Then he lovingly cleaned Rye up before climbing back into bed and gathering Rye up in his arms.

“That was . . .”

“...perfect,” Rye suggested, and Jake huffed a soft laugh and kissed Rye’s forehead and then his nose and then his cheeks.

“It was perfect,” Jake agreed. Rye felt as Jake took a slow, deep breath. “Thank you for trusting me,” he said. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me. Thank you... for loving me.”

There was a pain in Jake’s voice that Rye thought he’d heard before, but maybe only once, some time ago. He couldn’t quite place it, but that didn’t really matter. Not right now. He turned his head and brushed a kiss on Jake’s chest, ignoring the tear that slipped down his cheek. Then he smiled against Jake’s warm skin.

“Always,” he said.

Jake’s chest rose sharply and then fell with a sigh before another kiss grazed along Rye’s forehead. “You’re sure? And you want to stay here? Live here? With me?”

Rye tilted his head back and nodded, then stretched up again to kiss Jake’s lips. For half a second, he felt a tightness in his throat, and he thought maybe he’d run out of words for the day, but when Jake’s fingers gently brushed along Rye’s cheek, he leaned into the touch and sighed with contentment. And he whispered, “I’m sure. I want to be here, wherever you are. That’s... that’s my home. Here with you.”

There was a quiet moment where Rye just watched Jake blink several times, and then Jake nodded once and lowered his forehead to touch Rye’s. “I love you,” Jake murmured. “I love this. I—”

“I love us,” Rye finished for him.

And Jake laughed lightly. Then his hand came up to cup Rye’s cheek, and love and hope and joy filled Rye’s chest. It was bright and warm. And safe. And strong.

Rye tilted his head back in invitation, and Jake closed the distance between them again.

This spot.

Right here, in Jake’s arms.

This was his home.