by E. Davies
Forever
(F-Word #4)
E. Davies
Forever
by E. Davies
© 2018 E. Davies
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any forms or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.
Cover design by Resplendent Media.
Amazon Kindle Edition.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Thanks for reading!
Also by E. Davies
About the Author
1
Jake
“One more thing before you go: have you considered your fertility lately?”
“Uhhh.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, looking around the whitewashed office to avoid Dr. Lume’s gaze. His stomach gave an unpleasant jolt at the subject. The past six years had trained him out of thinking about pregnancy in general.
He’d had other priorities, to say the least. He hadn’t expected the subject to come up during his yearly checkup, but then, he’d been avoiding it for long enough.
“I haven’t been lying awake thinking about it. Why?”
“Okay.” Dr. Lume drummed her fingers on the keyboard, then turned to face him. “It might be time to devote some thought to it, Jake.”
Jake nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed. He knew as well as anyone what the official guidance said. Three to five years of hormone treatment meant a hysterectomy, though nothing definitive about the risks of skipping one had been found. “I just wasn’t ready to think about it until now.”
“It’s important,” Dr. Lume told him. “It might be safe to forgo, and it might not be. We can’t say for sure that either option is safe, but I want to make you aware of the choice. The benefits are obvious. We might be able to lower your dose slightly. You’ve been on testosterone for…?” She glanced at the computer for her notes.
“Five and a half years,” Jake said absently. He was used to answering the basics without even thinking.
“That’s right. I can’t believe it’s been so long already.” She gave him a warm smile, and he relaxed.
“Yeah. Time flies.” Jake had had a lot in his life to make the time go quickly, but not a stable living environment or another guy with factory-default plumbing, with whom he could or wanted to make babies.
At least, not a steady guy. He’d met enough one-night stands that could be sperm donor material, but co-parenting?
No. He’d have to know someone really well to share parenting duties. That was a we’ve been dating for a couple years and we just saw a cute baby kind of talk.
“When we discussed this a few years ago, you said you were potentially interested in having children,” she pressed gently.
Jake nodded. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted one or two of my own.” Sure, he could try egg storage and surrogacy and all that stuff, but that was incredibly expensive and meant getting someone else involved.
Many trans guys would have been dysphoric about the idea of pregnancy, but Jake didn’t resent his internal equipment. It was out of sight, out of mind for him. Even thinking about going off testosterone for a year or longer wasn’t awful now that he was read as male consistently. He’d been himself for so long that he could almost start to forget his old life.
Except for one thing: he’d always wanted kids when he was grown up. It had never occurred to him that he was a grownup now.
Fuck, that was terrifying. Who had given him the keys to adulthood?
“You also know that we don’t know the long-term effects of testosterone. If I remember right, gamete storage was too expensive for you to consider back then… but now?”
“It still would be,” Jake said and shook his head. “And you’re right. I’ve just been caught up in my own little world for the last couple years.” Living on the outskirts of L.A., cobbling together work as a production assistant on different shows and at restaurants, had kept him busy.
“I know surgery recovery was hard on you last time,” Dr. Lume said.
Jake snorted and nodded. “Understatement.” The stress and recovery from top surgery had been hard to deal with, especially in his career.
She nodded. “So take your time and think about how you feel about another surgery—there are risks to both choices. There could be long-term complications associated with keeping those parts, but surgery is always serious. I’ve talked to you about those risks before.”
“Yeah,” Jake said quietly. Some men had died from the complications of hysterectomies. The risks were real.
But now wasn’t really the best time to get pregnant. He couldn’t very well wait tables or run around sets with a huge belly, could he? He wasn’t quiet about his trans status, and he was lucky to live in a state where he could afford to be so open about it. At least he had the law on his side in California, and he probably wasn’t going to end up unemployed and homeless.
The practicality he’d had to develop over the last six years of independence kicked in.
“I don’t know if it’s in the cards for me,” Jake said quietly. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Can’t seem to get one around here who wants more than a hot fling, you know? Not that that’s not great, but… not for babies.”
“Whether you want to try co-parenting or single parenting, there are all kinds of options.” She tapped her fingers on the desk and thought for a moment before lighting up. “I know. I’ll give you a business card. Plus is an HIV charity specifically for the queer community, with a trans-inclusive mission. I went to a talk by someone there. They’ve told me that they’re well-connected to other organizations and resources. So if you want guidance or peer support, they could probably help you find queer family and parenting groups.”
The offer of connections—of community—meant a lot to Jake. “That would be great.”
Dr. Lume smiled at him and leaned in. “You’ve never let things stand in the way of what you want before. So think about what that is, and then we’ll work on getting you there. Okay?”
Not for the first time, Jake thanked all his lucky stars that he had a doctor like Dr. Lume on his side. Her compassion and willingness to research what she didn’t know had been a lifeline for him numerous times throughout the last six years. He cleared his throat gruffly and scratched the stubble on his jawline. “Thanks,” he said, trying to sum up everything into the one word as he rose to his feet.
She heard what he really meant, judging by her smile back. “You’re welcome. Take care.”
The office door closed behind him and Jake escaped to the smoggy L.A. air. He was alone with his thoughts again, the first and loudest of which was, At the end of the day, it’s just me.
It had been that way for the last six years, since his parents had told him not to come home until he’d changed his mind about “fitting in with trends,” as they put it.
Whil
e Jake was at it, he’d left not just his childhood home and family, but the whole state. Running away to L.A. had always been his dream. What better time to chase it?
God, he’d been a crazy kid, but somehow, it had all worked out. Jake had landed a series of jobs as a waitress at first, and then as a waiter. Planned Parenthood here had saved his fucking life when he’d started testosterone six months after moving here.
His lost tips from roleplaying a bubbly girl were more than compensated by the tips for being his real self, and even if they hadn’t been, he’d do it again in a heartbeat. His smile was rarely forced now, and it didn’t feel like his self-esteem was being ground into the dust by every she obnoxiously thrown at him by a table who’d clocked him.
On set, he’d gotten respect almost immediately from most of the people he worked with. He hadn’t stopped getting calls to work on set, which had been a real fear. Now, he was less passionate about keeping Hollywood’s wheels greased, but it was still an interesting and rewarding string of occasional gigs to help keep the lights on.
Jake chewed his nail as he pulled out of the clinic parking lot, driving automatically towards the grocery store. He went through his usual shopping without thinking twice, too.
His attention was devoted to looking twice at every kid in the store, imagining what it would be like if one of them were his.
Sure, it was terrifying as hell to have to give directions to a tiny person whose hell-bent aim seemed to be destroying themselves and everything around them, but…
There was something that tugged at his heartstrings deep down. His desire for kids hadn’t changed since realizing he was trans, or since transitioning. It was deep-seated, and it came from a different part of him. When he’d found out that transitioning and parenting weren’t either/or options, he’d been overjoyed.
Dr. Lume was right. Worrying about who the sperm donor was could come later. He had to get over himself. If he waited until romance found him, he was putting his life in the hands of fate, and he’d done that enough for one lifetime.
So it was time for Jake to start building the kind of life where he could support a kid. He just had no idea what that kind of life would even look like.
2
Tristan
“Who the hell nominated me as the umpire?” Tristan dashed out of the way, squirming between two desks as he held his hands up to show he was not getting involved.
River and Zeph were on a collision course. Each straddled an office chair backwards, holding a rolled-up poster under their armpit. They were both making horse noises as they propelled themselves across the office floor as fast as they could.
Denver poked his head out of his office and snorted. “Just another lunch hour at Plus. You get used to it around here,” he told Tristan. “At least they’re not playing tonsil hockey.”
“Yet!” Zeph crowed. He knocked River’s poster askew and sent his boyfriend toppling off the chair. “Loser gives a blowjob in the bathroom later.”
Kyle, River’s best friend and the only one of them besides Denver who actually worked here, was laughing his ass off. “Victory to Zeph!”
“Sanitize the bathroom when you’re done,” Denver advised them with a mild smile. He ducked back into his office, no doubt to continue the endless stream of paperwork he seemed to handle. Nothing seemed to faze him.
Tristan covered his face and laughed. He had to admit, this beat sitting around by himself in the parking lot to drop off Zeph to see his boyfriend here, hiding his face in case anyone saw him. Drawbacks of being an up-and-coming and very closeted actor.
Zeph had eventually talked him around with promises of donuts in the office. Even Tristan could take a diet cheat day for really good donuts.
“Your turn,” River started to say before the entryphone rang.
Kyle cleared his throat and glanced guiltily around, sweeping the posters to the side and answering. “This is Plus.” Then he paused and nodded. “Of course! I’ll be right down for a chat.”
Tristan had heard that they got a fair number of walk-ins looking for information, advice, or referrals. Plus was one of the foremost HIV education and activism charities, and they’d made a name for themselves in the gay community. They had made a point of being trans-inclusive and of supporting PrEP—both attention-grabbing stances.
“No, no, stay here,” Kyle urged the gang when Zeph started to stand up. “I think we have a few more rounds left. And then the spoils of victory to claim.”
Tristan blushed and shook his head, looking around at the office. Most of the other employees had gone out for lunch nearby. Denver’s boyfriend, Sam, ran a little diner that had become their informal gathering spot.
Kyle was here, though, which meant River was here to keep him company, and Zeph was devoted to River. It was sweet to see—Tristan didn’t have many close friends, so seeing Zeph truly happy meant a lot to him… even if it did make white-hot jealousy prickle deep in his gut.
Jealousy was an embarrassing emotion at the best of times. Feeling it about his best friend, who of all people, deserved to be happy? Tristan felt bad. And that only led to a self-defeating cycle of feeling bad about feeling bad.
“I figured after this, we could head to the gym for practice,” Zeph offered. “We haven’t sparred in a while.”
Fighting a former MMA fighter was most people’s idea of a bad time, but Tristan had known—and sparred against—Zeph for long enough to trust him. He only did it when he was pretty sure he wasn’t about to get a call-back, and Zeph usually tried to avoid major bruises.
It was a great way to burn energy, but all the sexual tension in this damn office had Tristan considering other ways… a situation that was not aided by the sight of the man who followed Kyle through the doors just a minute later.
He’d flirted with—or avoided flirting with—enough guys in this town that faces blurred together, but he distinctly remembered this one.
Tristan considered the classic question first: Have we slept together?
The guy’s name—Jake—and where they’d met clicked in his mind at the exact same moment that Jake saw him.
“Oh, shit.” Tristan laughed awkwardly. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Jake tipped his chin up with a bright smile. He’d only gotten hotter since he’d worked on the little indie film Tristan had taken on during a slow period in bookings.
Tristan couldn’t forget the man whose job it had been to pour water bottles down his shirt one hot summer week. Thank god the water had been cold—and blissful relief in the summer heat—because he’d been dangerously close to popping a boner every time he made eye contact with Jake.
Jake had grown out his stubble into almost leading-man looks of his own, though Tristan sensed that his bubbly personality would shut down in front of a camera. A lot of people who were the most vibrant behind the scenes were like that, while many actors were actually shy when the cameras were off.
“How’s it going?” Jake added awkwardly, glancing to Zeph and then River. He snuck another peek under those long lashes at Tristan.
Tristan’s cheeks were hot. “Good. You? Been getting a lot of work?” Smooth, get to the topic you wanna avoid right away. He fidgeted and cleared his throat. “I’m not… I haven’t, uh…”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe,” Jake told him simply, crossing his heart in a little X.
God, he was adorable.
Tristan could feel the others staring at him as he blushed. It was going to become a perpetual cycle of blushing harder and being more awkward if he wasn’t careful. “Cool. Hey, you wanted my workout routine back then, right?” It had only been two years ago, and he remembered chatting about workouts back then.
Jake’s brows shot up. “You remembered.”
“Y-Yeah,” Tristan shrugged and smiled. “Not a lot else to do between takes that day, was there? Anyway, this guy creates most of my routines,” he jerked his thumb at Zeph. “Zeph, Jake. He worked on the same set as me.”
�
��I gathered,” Zeph said. Tristan could tell it was taking a hell of a lot of self-control not to tease him then and there. He could have kissed his best friend—not that River would have let him—for the sudden and uncharacteristic discretion.
“I’ll just go get you the phone number,” Kyle murmured and trotted to his office, casting them one more curious glance over his shoulder. With one fewer person to diffuse the energy here, the tension thickened between Tristan and Jake. He could feel it, and he could feel Zeph and River noticing it, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
“So, uh, Zeph was an MMA fighter,” Tristan forged onward, trying not to let his gaze linger on those full lips and gorgeous, bright eyes. “We spar sometimes at gyms and stuff.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” Jake smiled at Zeph, and for half a weird second, Tristan was… jealous of him.
Jesus. Here he was, jealous of his best friend, who was happily partnered up with the man who was actually leaning into him that very moment. For being smiled at by a guy who’d once poured water down his shirt.
Tristan had often said he didn’t believe in such a thing as chemistry, because all of it was replicable. Actors made the choice to create chemistry or not. But this? This was something else. And all of a sudden, he was desperate not to let Jake walk out that door without his number.
“If you’re interested, I can show you more stuff Zeph’s taught me, or you can like. Go out. With us. To the gym.”