Chapter 9 – Age 26
“I understand that you want to forge your own path, and you don’t feel like you can do that at my firm or your father’s old firm, but there are other options,” his mother said.
“I spoke to my parents last week and your grandmother reminded me again that there’s a place for you at the company.
Your grandfather can take you under his wing, and when he retires in a few years, you’ll be able to run it. ”
“I went to law school so I could practice law,” he reminded her yet again, ignoring the fact that her suggestion was the exact opposite of forging his own path because that wasn’t relevant.
“In that case, any law firm in town will be thrilled to have you.” His mother subtly gestured around the Phoenix Country Club dining room, leaned closer, and whispered, “I see several partners in top firms here right now. I’m happy to make introductions once we’re done eating.”
“Not interested.” He stabbed at the salad on his plate and stuffed lettuce into his mouth.
This was the dozenth time he’d had this conversation with his mother since he had passed the bar a year earlier and taken a position at the Maricopa County Office of the Public Defender.
The same position he had always said he’d take once he finished law school at the same place he had clerked in over the summer during law school.
“The private sector offers substantially better pay.”
He flicked his gaze to her and then refocused on his healthy lunch.
He had been trying to eat better now that he was working long hours and had less time to exercise.
At least her country club had decent salads.
“You understand that the salary is irrelevant to me.” He had inherited his father’s entire estate.
His mother had remarried so he didn’t know what she planned to leave him, but he suspected she hadn’t changed her will and one day everything she had would be his too.
And even if none of that were true, he still wouldn’t choose a career based on money.
He wanted to have enough to be able to survive without the struggles Tor and his brothers had faced, and he’d have no trouble accomplishing that while doing work that mattered.
His mother cut her salmon with slow precision, placed a small piece in her mouth, chewed, and then swallowed. “Your desire to commit yourself to a life of public service is admirable. Your father and grandfather did the same thing.”
He rolled his eyes, but his head was bent toward his plate, so she probably didn’t notice. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Of course, they started their career on a different path, but I suppose you can reach the same goal with a civil service trajectory. What if you go to the Attorney General’s Office? I’m sure that AG Strong will give you a prestigious position and you can—”
“No.” He hated these obligatory lunches with his mother because the only thing she talked about was work, either her own or his, or more accurately, what she thought his should be. Then again, she didn’t know anything else about him or his life so there weren’t other conversation options.
He raised his gaze and looked at his mother, really looked at her, for the first time in a long time.
There was a wariness to her, a constant state of concern.
She was worried about him, and it hit him that, at some level, she always had been.
He hadn’t been an easy child and whether she had been aware of his father’s affairs or not, she hadn’t had a good marriage.
But she had tried. As an adult, reflecting on his life, he knew she had tried.
“Mom.”
She froze, his calmer tone taking her off guard. “Yes?”
“I didn’t take this job as a stepping stone to a career in politics or anything else. I took it because I want to help people.”
“You want to help criminals.”
He grinned. “Technically, they’re not considered criminals until they get convicted, Mom. You remember the whole innocent until proven guilty thing from law school, right?”
She smiled back at him. “My apologies. You want to help people accused of crimes.”
“I do.” He nodded.
“Some of them are violent offenders.”
“Some of them are,” he acknowledged.
“Rapists and child molesters.”
“I understand what my job entails.” He also knew how to handle people who were charged with those types of offenses.
He looked into their cases, talked to them, and if it was clear they were guilty, he worked out a deal with one of the prosecutors he knew—a settlement that made sure they served a good amount of time in exchange for some of his other clients’ cases being dropped or settled without jail time.
The first few people he had approached with those offers were wary and reminded him of his ethical obligations.
But Jule had grown up learning that ethics were bendable and adaptable, so he didn’t give a shit.
He carefully chose the prosecutors he talked to, and once they realized he was handing them a way to put the right people behind bars for a long time without clogging up their calendars, they played ball. “I’m doing exactly what I want to do.”
She still looked worried, but she didn’t argue with him.
For what may have been the first time in his life, he reached out and touched her, patting her arm. “I appreciate your concern.”
Her shoulders lowered and her face relaxed. “How is everything else going? Are you settling into your new apartment downtown?”
“Yes. I’m not there much, work keeps me busy, but it’s fine. Furnished. Close to the office.”
“That’s efficient.”
He nodded.
“You’re still planning to attend the Heart Ball in November, right?” His mother was chairing a black-tie charity event where people seemed to spend at least as much on their clothing as they did on donations.
“Yes. I’ll be there.” Not because he had any interest in dressing up or attending a formal event, but because she had asked him to come and he knew it was important to her.
“Thank you. I put two seats in your name at my table. It’s right in front.”
Two seats. He barely kept himself from groaning. As if the night wouldn’t be miserable enough, now he had to find a date.
***
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to try,” Tor whispered in his ear before nibbling on his lobe.
He had shown up at Jule’s door Friday evening and they had spent most of the weekend not wearing clothes.
Now, his nude front covered Jule’s nude back in the very best type of blanket. “I keep fantasizing about it.”
“Mmm,” Jule closed his eyes and settled into his position. “I always like your ideas, Tori. What is it?”
“Want to eat your ass.” He rocked his groin against Jule’s crease as he spoke.
“Really?” Surprised, Jule blinked his eyes open and looked over his shoulder. “We’ve never done that.”
“Hard to manage it hiding under blankets with my brothers one bed over or up against walls when people could walk by any minute.” Tor grazed his teeth over Jule’s neck. “At least not if we want to do it right, and I do.”
As teenagers, they’d stuck to the basics—hand jobs, blow jobs, fucking.
They felt good and the two of them were experts at fitting them in no matter how little the time or how tight the quarters.
As adults, they’d only had stolen moments together, never lasting more than a handful of days in a row.
Their connections were incendiary, frantic, and incredible, but they hadn’t fully explored the new possibilities available to them now that he lived alone and they had decent stretches of privacy when Tor came around.
“Have you done it before?” His stomach soured at the possibility.
Tor pushed himself up with one arm and pulled Jule’s shoulder with the other, flipping him onto his back. Once he was looking Jule in the face, he said, “Of course not.”
He nodded, relieved. “Does it bother you?” Jule raised his palm and grazed it across Tor’s chest. “That I’ve been with other people?” They didn’t see each other for months at a time and Jule tried dating during those absences. It was never successful or satisfying, but it did happen.
“I told you to do it,” Tor said, shaking his head.
“It kills me thinking of you with anyone else,” Jule confessed.
“Then stop thinking it.” He kissed Jule’s forehead. “It won’t happen.”
“But you’re okay with me doing it?” Jule furrowed his brow, confused.
With a sigh, Tor eased off him and lay on his side, elbow bent, head propped on his palm. “I consider it a win that we’ve managed to keep you from attacking anyone with a pipe or a bat or a lunch tray all these years. If you can’t let off steam another way, you’re liable to murder someone.”
Jule grinned. “You heard about what happened senior year with Owen Jacobson.”
“’Course. It was legendary. But if you pull that shit now, you’ll lose your career, so we need to keep your baser instincts in check, killer.”
“I’ve learned a lot of tools in therapy.” He looked into Tor’s familiar blue eyes. They never stopped being the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. “I have a better handle on my rage.”
“That’s good.”
“You can tell me that you don’t want me to fuck other people.”
“Not yet.” Tor shook his head.
“But I don’t want you to.”
“I already told you, I haven’t and I won’t,” Tor assured him. One side of his lips tilted up in that familiar half smile. “I’m very aware of your possessive streak, Julie.”
“How is that fair?”
“Fair?” Tor laughed. “What the fuck is fair in our lives? Fair doesn’t mean shit. Survival’s what matters. If you need to fuck a few guys when I’m not around so you don’t kill someone, do it. Doesn’t mean anything and sure as shit doesn’t change anything between us. Nothing will.”
He was right about it not meaning anything. In truth, very little meant anything to Jule outside of Tor and their family. “I don’t let them top me,” he clarified.
“I figured.” Tor dipped his chin. Tor was well versed in all his preferences, which meant he knew Jule liked to bottom, always.
“How?”
“Because I know you.” Tor kissed him. “You’re as unlikely to let someone punch you as you are to let him fuck you, and if anyone tried to do either, you’d beat the shit out of him.”
Tor, of course, had done both and Jule had not only let him, he’d encouraged him. “We’re fucked up, aren’t we?”
“Absolutely.” Tor nodded and covered Jule’s hand with his. “But your fucked up fits with my fucked up and as long as we’re fucked up together, who gives a fuck.”
“That’s the most romantic shit you’ve ever said.” Jule rounded his free hand around the back of Tor’s neck. “Give me that sweet mouth.”
Tor rolled on top of him, curled his hand around his throat, and kissed him.
He sank into the feeling, grazing his hands over Tor’s warm skin, learning new scars as he inhaled his familiar scent.
They’d been at it for a long while when Tor murmured, “I’m dying to eat you out.”
“Do it.”
Eyes locked with his, Tor moaned deeply and then wedged himself between his legs and kissed and licked his way down his body. He was slow and thorough, and by the time his face reached Jule’s sac, Jule’s toes and fingers dug into the sheets and his thighs were convulsing.
“Jesus, fuck, Tor,” he rasped. He was so turned on that a single additional touch would set him off.
“Not yet.” Tor shook his head, circled his palm just under Jule’s cockhead, and squeezed. “I haven’t even gotten started.”
Jule clenched his eyes shut. “Keep doing that and I’ll beat your ass. Don’t test me. You know I get off on that shit.”
Tor chuckled. “Then breathe and calm your ass down. I’ll tell you when you’re allowed to come.”
“Fuck you,” Jule muttered affectionately.
Another quiet laugh and then Tor spread his thighs wider, dug his fingers into the muscles, and pushed them up and out. Jule’s breath caught and he hadn’t had a chance to suck in air before Tor did as he had promised and buried his face in Jule’s ass.
“Fuuuuck.” Jule opened his eyes and looked between his legs.
Tor was licking and nibbling and sucking, ecstasy overtaking his face. He ate at Jule like he had been starving for it, whimpering and moaning as he went to town. His lips were soft, his mouth drooling, and when he straightened his tongue and pushed it into Jule’s hole, both of them went wild.
Tor snaked his arm down and started jerking himself.
Feet in the air, Jule reached both hands between his thighs and tangled his fingers in Tor’s hair, holding him close. He was dripping with spit, hole relaxed, cock rigid, and balls tight. “Please,” he gasped, not even sure what he was asking for, only knowing that it involved Tor.
Tor groaned and darted his tongue faster and somehow deeper while pressing his fingertips against Jule’s taint.
That was it. His muscles seized and his breath hitched for a full minute and then he arched his back and wailed as he erupted, come shooting so hard it hit his neck before pooling on his belly.
He must have passed out for a few seconds because his next moment of awareness was Tor’s face above his, peppering him with kisses, licking his sweat and tears, and murmuring soft words. “Beautiful, perfect, love you.”
He knew Tor loved him just like Tor knew he loved him back, but they didn’t speak the words often. “God damn, Tori.” He wrapped his legs and arms around Tor and held him tightly. “I love you so fucking much.”