66. Jay
Chapter sixty-six
Jay
J ay draped his face in a teasing pout as Alice rearranged the shelves in the fridge. “A whole day?”
The Mrs. Eickhoff Memorial Black Forest Extravaganza—way too pretty to be just a cake—sat on a glass plate on the counter, waiting to chill. He’d gotten to do most of the work himself, following directions from Mom as she read from Lina’s recipe card. The steps had taken practically the whole afternoon, him beating eggs and whipping cream and handing out samples of boozy cherries while Alice spearheaded Team Caramel. Her job included a thermometer clipped to the pot while she did science on the stove. Henry split his time between them, cozy and sheltering and encouraging as he peered over their shoulders and made suggestions.
“A whole day indeed.” Henry swept Jay’s hair out of his eyes, lingering on the curve of his ear in a ticklish caress. “The flavors will soak into the chocolate sponge and be positively decadent by this time tomorrow.”
“And I’ve heard”—Alice backed out of the fridge and made ta-da hands at the new empty space—“that waiting is good for the soul.”
Her eyes had lost their redness. When he and Henry walked in with the groceries, Alice had been curled up next to Mom like a kid. Ollie was gonna slide in some questions when she called their mom and report back. He hadn’t decided yet on whether to ask Nat to give him the rundown from the farm on Christmas Day. Families were complicated.
“Immediacy has its benefits as well.” Mom winked at him as she plucked pieces of Alice’s caramel corn off the cookie sheet on the table. “We have an excellent appetizer right here, as well as those gorgeous apples for Christmas Eve. The three of you have outdone yourselves.”
The caramel apples sat in rows on wax paper. Some plain, some drizzled with chocolate, some rolled in candy coatings. Five hours the four of them had been in the kitchen, and he could’ve wished for five more. Helping in Peggy’s kitchen had never been like this. Even when Jay made the whipped cream look like cottage cheese, Henry laughed and hugged him and showed him the trick he’d learned from Lina the first time he got to make the whipped cream and messed up too.
“Well.” Jay cranked up the charm, dropping his pouty face for wide, blinking eyes and measuring the twitches in Henry’s lips. He was gonna smile any second now. “If it’ll be decadent , I guess I can wait.”
Henry kissed the corner of Jay’s mouth. Better than a smile.
“I know you can, my very good boy,” Henry murmured, just loud enough for Jay’s dick to take notice.
The casual touches and asides had kept him in a subby haze all day long. Not enough to stiffen up, but enough to throb against his thigh and remind him who he belonged to.
“You want me to put it in?”
“Huh?”
Alice smiled at him, biting her lip, for sure holding off a laugh.
He dragged his brain back from where she’d sent it, because of course, yes, he absolutely wanted her to put it in. Just not, like, here . “Put what?”
“The decadent dessert.” She dipped her chin toward the cake. “To chill.”
“Oh! Yes. No. I mean, I got it.” Well now Henry and Alice were both grinning at him, their eyes bright and loving. Mom might’ve been laughing, but she was hiding her mouth behind her hand, so that didn’t count.
The thick glass plate with flower-petal edges was some family heirloom from the big cupboard. Mom was trusting him not to break it. Hefting it in both hands, he ferried it neatly into the space Alice had made. Under the fridge light, his chocolate crumble swirls swooped up the sides of the cake and Henry’s perfectly piped whipped cream curved in little nests for the shiny cherries on top.
“Gorgeous work, sweetheart.” Alice nudged the door shut with her hip and pecked his cheek. “You hungry? With all this yumminess we can’t eat yet, I’m starving.”
“Excellent. I have just the thing.” Henry pushed them both toward the table, and Mom used two fingers to slide the popcorn their way. “Dinner will be quite simple tonight.”
Simple turned out to be only three things. After scarfing a few handfuls of popcorn, Jay set the table and assembled the salads while Henry sped through prep, slid a pan in the oven, and started rice on the stove. Alice peppered Mom with questions, so they had stories of past Christmases the whole time. Dinner hadn’t been like this for weeks. Smooth and familiar, dancing around each other like they knew each other’s steps. Even being dressed couldn’t crush his high.
With everything in place, he slid into his seat and spread his fancy flowery cloth napkin over his lap. “I was thinking I’d call Nat.”
“Today?” Poinsettias bunched out like real flowers as Alice scrunched her napkin in her fingers.
“Christmas morning, I think. Or afternoon.” He wasn’t required to run ideas past his spouses, but after the weeks they’d just had, it couldn’t hurt to voice every thought in his head for a while. “Find out how stuff’s going”—what was being said about him—“and give her an excuse to duck out of the house and away from Peggy’s nagging. Not that Nat’s ever had trouble just telling her to fu—to shove it.”
Mom sipped her water like she hadn’t even noticed his near-cursing.
Grinning at him, Alice jabbed her fork into her roasted veggies, stacking broccoli and carrot. “That might be Nat’s favorite part of any family get-together.”
She did like being ornery. Or maybe not—maybe that was just the message he’d gotten from Peggy’s opinion of their sister. He’d have to ask her. Couldn’t learn anything if he didn’t ask. “I should’ve copied her. Peggy might’ve backed off me, too.”
Henry’s eyes darkened. He laid his hand on top of Jay’s and squeezed. “Or she may have moved to other tactics to control you. I know how hard you are working to unravel those threads, but I would hope that you know—” With pursed lips, he studied the ceiling and nodded softly. “I would hope that each of us knows, and believes, that the avenues we found to cope with difficulty were not wrong. We did the best we could with the resources we had.” He gazed at Jay, and Alice, and even his mom, with the steady compassion he’d offered Jay since the night they’d met. “Whatever our paths, we survived trying times and unreasonable demands. And although we may stumble back into those patterns when stress and circumstances overwhelm us, we continue pushing forward, assisting each other along the way.”
“That sort of support is a treasure.” Mom folded her hands in front of her plate, her eyes soft. Jay’s mom never looked at him the way Henry’s mom looked at Henry. “Particularly when you’re facing people who only understand a direct message. You may defer to them out of politeness, or age, or relationship, and they will use that as an opportunity to run right over you again and again.”
A weary certainty weighed down her voice, though she didn’t heave a big sigh like he would’ve. “You had a bossy older sister too?”
“Much worse, I’m afraid.” But she laughed and turned her sparkling spring-green eyes on him. “You wisely moved out of your sister’s reach, darling boy. I moved directly into the hornet’s nest when I married Henry’s father.”
Listening to Henry last night was the first time he’d realized his husband’s family wasn’t perfect, like one of the families in the nostalgic Christmas paintings they hung in the tree barn to make the buyers pick up more must-haves for their old-fashioned holiday. But this was a new story; if Henry knew it, he hadn’t said so. “You didn’t get along?”
“Robert’s mother and grandmother had certain ideas about how women ought to behave.” The sharp tilt of Mom’s eyebrow said what she thought about that. “My becoming a mother only made them more determined to comment upon my every action. Henry’s brother was the oldest son of the oldest son—the family heir. You would have thought him a crown prince.”
That was the brother he’d be meeting for the first time on Christmas Eve. Less than forty-eight hours away. They hadn’t talked about introductions. Did Henry’s brother know they were married? Would they have to take off their rings? Switch bedrooms?
“Sometimes he believes himself a crown prince.” Henry dipped in for a kiss on Jay’s cheek and rubbed Jay’s hand, pressing on his wedding ring. “However, we had a pleasant time at tea the other day, and he sends his congratulations on our nuptials. He and Constance are looking forward to meeting both of you.”
Jay’s heart stopped trying to play a drum solo and settled back into his chest. Somehow when he panicked, Henry knew exactly what to say. But he shouldn’t take that for granted. That was Henry doing work. Being his dominant and his partner, putting in effort. The more Jay could speak up, the smoother that work would be. “Thanks.” Angling his palm up, he held tight to Henry’s hand. “I’m a little nervous about meeting everybody.”
Alice squeezed his knee under the table. “Me too. But hey, we’ve both been through shouting and insults before and survived. How bad could it be?”
“I can assure you, there will be none of that.” Mom wrinkled her nose. “I should like to think I raised both of my boys better than that.”
“You most certainly did.” Henry took up his knife and fork and carved off a bite of chicken. “I believe you were saying you had to fight Grandmother for the chance to do so?”
“Oh yes.” Head shaking, Mom returned to her meal too, so Jay picked up his fork and stabbed toward his plate. “I could scarcely enjoy ten minutes of your brother to myself before your father’s relatives would swoop in and snatch him away. Lina began running interference until I had practiced enough to be comfortable refusing their demands.”
Huh. Henry’s mom was so put-together—kind but confident. Maybe not always, though. Maybe someday he would have fewer doubts in his head too.
Alice broke out the puzzle-pondering twist in her lips. “His dad didn’t say anything to them?”
“You know, I don’t believe he ever quite understood the problem.” Mom got a distant look, staring past Henry’s shoulder, and her slow-building smile turned into a soft hum. “Henry’s father was excellent at business negotiations, but he had no concept of the territorial struggles when three generations of women occupy one house with a single infant to go around.”
What would that have been like? To be so wanted that folks were arguing over who got to have time with him. He hadn’t gotten that as a kid. But he did sometimes now, when Henry and Alice play-argued over him, and the joy of it swallowed him whole. “But you beat them, right?” He shot Mom a charm smile. “Single combat?”
Her laugh rippled like music. “We took to the gardens for a bit of peace. They weren’t anything like they are now; Lina and I built them up together, with little Robert watching from beneath the sunshade on his carrier. I used to sing to him while we worked.”
Yeah, that was still pretty perfect.
The talk drifted into more stories of Henry and his brother as little-little kids, and by the time everyone finished eating and he cleared the table, it was practically bedtime for Mom. Henry went over the schedule for tomorrow—Mom’s rehab and more meal prep for the holiday— and Alice went upstairs to help Mom get ready for bed. Jay squared away the downstairs with Henry, turning off lights and checking doors, and held his hand as they climbed to the bedroom.
He hadn’t gone for a ride today, or gotten much more exercise than wheeling the cart around the grocery store, but his body wasn’t shoving antsy hyper signals at him either. Dreamy, that’s what it was. Which he figured out while his mouth was full of toothpaste. He spat and rinsed. The day had that floaty quality of dreams, like it couldn’t possibly be real, except it was.
When he stepped back into the bedroom, Alice was stripping off her day clothes and Henry was sliding the fuddy-duddy pajama bottoms he always wore at his mom’s house up over his ass.
“It was a good day.” Jay wasn’t announcing it to anyone in particular. Just felt good, warm in his chest, to name the feelings, like lying in the grass watching a flower uncurl its petals toward the sun. “Having all that time together.” If the whole last week had been like today, that would’ve been better. For him, anyway. “You think?”
“It was wonderful.” Half-hidden, Alice dragged the sleep shirt she’d stolen again over her head and tugged it around her breasts. She’d left him the shorts for modesty or whatever. “We needed a peaceful break. It’s funny—baking is like stepping outside of time, even though you’re measuring and timing things all day.”
“Baking—any work in the kitchen, truly—asks that you only focus on what is in front of you.” Henry buttoned away his chest under the pajama top. “The immediacy and precision sweep the mind clear of other concerns. Engaging the hands and the mind can be a cure for ruinous rumination.” He pulled back the corner of the sheets and smoothed the edge, even though they’d be getting into bed and wrinkling them all up any minute. “I confess, this day has been the most relaxing I’ve enjoyed in weeks.”
Pressure in Jay’s chest nudged him to breathe. Guess his lungs had been waiting on Henry’s opinion as much as his heart had. “Being around the people we love is important. Without them, thoughts keep coming like rapids in the stream. You slip and get spun around till you don’t know which way is up. Sometimes you’re stuck in the hole until rescue shows up. But then you float downstream, and the water is smooth as glass, and the thoughts bounce off like the shimmer from the sun. When you’re not so tied up with thinking, the feelings soak through you.”
A smile sprawled across Henry’s face. He squeezed Jay’s shoulder, his fingers firm and tight, clutching like he’d never let go. “Your wisdom in matters of the heart is unsurpassed, dearest. Being near the ones we love is a cure for many ills.”
“Fuckin’ right,” Alice whispered. Clearing her throat, she folded back the sheets on her side of the bed and perched there, her hip angled toward them and her bare leg a pale triangle against the green. “And that’s why you’re sleeping in the middle tonight, Henry.”
She didn’t quite use her dominant bossy voice. But she came awfully close to the coaxing voice she used during room checks—lower, with a purr over the stern teacher tone underneath. She must’ve taken Mom’s hint about being direct too.
No way would he leave his co-sub hanging out on that ledge alone. “I was gonna say the same thing. The middle should be yours, Henry.”
“Your thoughtfulness is delightful, both of you.” Henry swept his hand down Jay’s arm, leaving a trace of his touch behind, the briefest circle of fingers and thumb around Jay’s wrist. “But for practicality’s sake, I ought to be where I’ll least disturb your slumber if Mother calls for assistance in the night.”
The handset for the baby monitor sat on the nightstand on Alice’s side. So far so good, nothing but steady breathing.
“Then we’ll get up, too.” Alice flopped back onto the pillow, her landing poofing out the case with a whoosh of air. Wheat-gold waves of hair spread like sunbeams around her. “That’s the whole point, Henry. It’s not all on you. We’re a unit; we carry our burdens together. We don’t load one person up like a pack mule and demand they shoulder everything.”
“In sickness and in health.” Jay pushed his chest out and leveled his chin. They couldn’t go back to the last two weeks of polite waiting. Not ever. “Just ’cause we didn’t say the traditional vows doesn’t mean they don’t apply. We still signed up for the good and the bad, and the ‘important even when it’s inconvenient for sleep’ stuff.”
“You’re ours .” Alice rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her weight on her elbow. “You claimed us, and we’re yours, but we claimed you, too. It’s okay for you to need us.”
More than that, even.
“It’s like a requirement.” Heat spread from his chest and firmed up his voice. He was right about this, and Henry deserved to hear it. “Sometimes, you’re gonna need us like we need you.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Henry murmured. His eyes grew wet and shiny, and he swallowed hard. The lightest touch of his hand at the back of Jay’s neck drew Jay closer. “I always need you, my brilliant boy.”
Henry brought their mouths together so gently he might’ve been fancy crystal or an heirloom knickknack, fragile and irreplaceable. Like he could break any second—except maybe it was Henry who might break. Henry who felt fragile and sensitive. Jay let go of the heat stirring in his shorts and leaned into the press of lips and nose and forehead.
A soft sigh parted them, Henry resting cheek to cheek with him. “You and Alice are my heart and my soul, all the wisdom and empathy and intellect I could ever hope to hold.”
Henry wrapped Jay up, banding his arms around him. Standing chest to chest, breaths passing each other’s ears—how many times had he lain beneath Henry just like this, sated and sleepy, his head full of wonder and his heart full of love? He didn’t have the smooth words Henry did. But he breathed in Henry’s scent, and he nudged with his face like a loyal pet should. “Come to bed, then. Hold us. Let us hold you.”
With a quiet hum, Henry slipped into bed beside Alice and settled on his back, his arms out and welcoming. She rolled up against Henry, accepting his kiss even as she reached across his chest and waved Jay forward. He tucked the covers behind him; he’d kick them off later, in his sleep, like he did most nights. For now, he burrowed alongside Henry, matching Alice’s cozy drape, laying his head on Henry’s shoulder and meeting Alice’s hand with his own. She wove their fingers together and rested them over Henry’s heart.
Henry rubbed the dip in Jay’s spine, his hand broad and familiar. Jay’s cock twitched in the curious flicker of do you need me, boss? But he relaxed his legs and let his eyelids sink, and the urgency didn’t surge through him.
Alice asked something, her voice a soothing stream of music without form. Her thumb slid along his in a slow-moving figure eight.
Henry’s lower rumble carried further. Something about his mom’s art studio. Setting it up in the attic when he was a kid? Days painting in the garden, together, close by, but focused on different things. Laughing at his little-kid frustration when a bird landed in the middle of his subject. Learning to be still and observe until the birds perched near him like he was just another tree in the garden.
Jay hadn’t done a lot of still as a kid. Moving, that he’d done by the bucketful. Moving to be out of someone’s way. Moving to escape the buzzing under his skin, the anxiety he didn’t have a name for then. Moving to be free, to feel the sun and the wind on his face. Moving away, moving toward.
Only Henry had taught him to be still without aching to go. Waiting pose could be a joy, a place to rest in the trust that good things would happen soon. Maybe they’d be in a season of waiting pose while Henry recovered from the stress. That could be okay. Their sexual bond wasn’t broken. It was sleeping, like the animals in their burrows for winter. On warm days, they would burst into a flurry of motion again. But the snoozy haze, that was good too.
They had lots of ways of being intimate—sharing stories, sharing meals, sharing praise. Maybe that was how Henry could last so long when Jay was begging to come, because the orgasm wasn’t his focus. Being together, touching each other, driving Jay and Alice into a frenzy with his voice—he didn’t need his dick for that. But was it because Henry was older and had more experience, and Jay would get there eventually? Or was it part of what made him and Henry different?
There wouldn’t be sex tonight. But he didn’t miss it all that much, not when his sleepy body sagged against Henry and met a soothing embrace without yesterday’s tension. If tomorrow could be like today, that would be the best gift.