Forever (F-Word Book 4)

by E. Davies

  Jake grimaced at the pet name. Certain names were okay by him. Others, like honey and sweetie… they just reminded him of a time in his life he’d much rather forget. Hearing them said by someone other than his parents, and not sarcastically, still made those moments echo far too loudly in his head. It felt like a stupid hang-up to have, but everyone had their baggage.

  “Thank you,” he answered absently as he punched his user ID into the POS system. “It kind of sucks. He’ll be working long hours for the most of the trimester.”

  It took him a few moments before he realized what he’d said, and he sucked in his breath, looking over at Amanda. That wasn’t a unit of measurement most people used.

  She’d heard it, too. Her jaw dropped as she looked down at his stomach and back up, her face containing the question.

  Jake chuckled sheepishly. “I wasn’t gonna tell people, but… yes.”

  “Oh, my God!” Amanda tried to muffle her squeal as she hugged him. “That’s amazing. I had no idea you could even—that you wanted—congratulations! Oh, wow.”

  They both nearly jumped apart when they heard Ned’s voice, all brisk and business. “Amanda. Table five is looking for you.”

  “Sorry.” Amanda rolled her eyes at Jake, but Jake waved her off. Service came first, after all.

  It felt kind of nice not to have that secret. He was goddamn tired of secrets, and now that there were fewer than ever before in his life, he’d grown used to not having to think twice about what he said, and to whom.

  On the other hand, the look Ned gave him as he passed was inscrutable.

  Had he overheard? What did he think?

  Jake couldn’t afford to stop and worry about it, though. He had work to get to. The place was packed to the seams already. If his chest was weirdly sore and the smell of food was mildly repulsive, that was just too bad.

  If it got worse, he had no idea how he’d deal with it, but he’d find a way. He smelled food all day. His job required it. And he needed the job.

  He wasn’t the first pregnant person to rely on work at a restaurant, diner, or coffee shop. There had to be tips and tricks on working through morning sickness.

  Who needed a mom for advice when he had the internet on his side? Jake added that to his mental list of things to Google when he got home.

  So far, it had done wonders, as long as he was willing to overlook the fact that every resource casually assumed that anyone who was pregnant was a woman, had breasts, and had a steady male partner. It was alienating to have to run everything through a mental filter of whether or not it applied to him.

  Another group of guests walked through the door, and Jake headed over to them with a cheerful smile. Time to get his ass in gear.

  “Jake? Can I have a word?”

  Before Jake could even pick up his phone from the break room, Ned was calling him into the office. “Sure, give me three seconds.” Once he’d changed shoes and loaded up his pockets with wallet, car keys, and phone, he followed Ned into the office.

  His stomach dropped as soon as Ned closed the door and sat down, his expression solemn. He’d been let go from enough jobs to know how this went.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go, Jake. We won’t be needing you to come in tomorrow. I’ll have HR get in touch to wrap up the loose ends.”

  Well, Ned wasn’t beating around the bush. Jake opened and shut his mouth wordlessly for a few moments, trying to make heads or tails of this. “I… Why?”

  “Because I need to let you go.”

  You need to let me go because you need to let me go? Jake’s bullshit detector was giving him a huge red flag at that answer. When they avoided the question, it was because it was legally problematic. “What do you mean? Is it my performance?”

  “I can’t answer those questions,” Ned answered coolly. “As you’re probably aware, California is an at-will state…”

  “I know what that means,” Jake interrupted. If he was getting fired, he didn’t care about being rude. “But is it something I could have done better?”

  He resisted the tears that threatened to build up in his eyes. Fuck. The last thing I need is pregnancy hormones hitting right now, thanks very much, he thought.

  “I’m happy to give you a positive reference for a future employer,” Ned answered.

  Okay, he wasn’t getting anywhere with this. Jake smiled tightly and nodded once, refusing to let himself get emotional in front of Ned. “Thanks. Bye.”

  Amanda tried to talk to him, but he power-walked out of the restaurant, too afraid of his reaction if he stuck around.

  She chased him to the parking lot. “Shit. Jake, are you okay?”

  Jake’s eyes were blurry now as he wiped them with his arm, leaning on his car. “Yes. No. Sort of. I just got fired.”

  “What?” Amanda exclaimed. “That’s… that’s bullshit. Why?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me. They knew I was trans and they didn’t have a problem until now. But…” Jake trailed off, ducking his head.

  He’d been stupid to think it was safe to talk about it at work. One careless slip of the tongue, and he was out of a job.

  And, critically, the healthcare that job had offered.

  “It’s the pregnancy,” Amanda surmised in a whisper. “Shit. That’s illegal!”

  Jake laughed bitterly. He’d lost more than one job while transitioning, even though that was illegal. People lost their jobs all the time for technically illegal reasons. Proving it was a whole different story. “Good luck to me, getting any enforcement on that.”

  “That’s awful,” Amanda shook her head, folding her arms. “If there’s anything I can do…”

  Jake nodded jerkily. “For a job I might not have been able to do in a couple months’ time… I guess it’s not the worst thing.” Don’t think of the healthcare. Don’t think of rent. It’ll work out, somehow. He gulped hard. “I better get going.”

  She pulled him in for a tight hug and made him promise to text her and let her know how things went, and then he was on the road.

  An unemployed, pregnant man. People didn’t like hiring pregnant women—who the hell would hire a pregnant man? But he didn’t have the money or the energy to fight it in court, or whatever the next step was. He’d never bothered with that.

  Better to move on.

  God, life seemed to be several steps ahead of him the whole way. He’d been wanting to get pregnant, but not yet? Boom, early pregnancy. He’d wanted to get a better job? He lost this one. This year was turning into a terrifyingly high-speed treadmill he’d just been dumped on.

  At least he had a boyfriend for moral support, but he couldn’t cry on Tristan’s shoulder until he was done work—and he was putting in long days of filming.

  Jake felt utterly alone, his back against the wall. Sure, he did well in that spot, but why the hell should he have to?

  Fuck everything about this. The worst part was that he couldn’t even drown his sorrows in a glass of wine.

  A Smarties McFlurry it was. And if anyone looked weirdly at him for eating a McFlurry in a parking lot and crying, they could go fuck themselves.

  18

  Tristan

  For a first read-through, Tristan was pretty damn happy with how his day had gone. Sure, they’d been stop-and-start at the beginning as they talked through the nature of the script and the director’s ideas, but it felt like they were all on the same page. Literally and creatively.

  They’d already arranged to meet up for drinks on Friday, too. Tristan was very aware that, as one of the leads, it was his responsibility to encourage a friendly and warm atmosphere on set. His costar, Brian, seemed to agree, judging by his enthusiastic agreement when Tristan had suggested drinks.

  “Aw, shit,” he whispered when he saw a string of texts from Jake. Even though he kept his phone in the car unless it would overheat, Jake tried not to send him too many texts while he was at work. If he ever saw more than one or two, it was a bad thing.

  He only nee
ded to skim them before he knew where he was headed: Jake’s house.

  Jake got fired? What the hell had happened?

  The whole drive there, he hoped Jake wasn’t in bed, but he had the feeling that even if he were, he’d welcome company.

  “Hey, babe,” he greeted as soon as Jake opened the door. Jake fell into his arms, and Tristan squeezed him as tightly as he could. “Oh, Jake. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  Jake sniffled, but he seemed determined to keep himself composed. “Come on in. Thank you for coming over. It’s earlier than I expected.”

  “We just did the first read-through today,” Tristan told him quietly. “Stefan—that’s the director—wanted to talk to production people about stuff before he asked us for ideas.”

  His mind was already in gear. Could he get Jake a job on set? He’d ask tomorrow if there were any unfilled positions. Sometimes people had to drop out and production needed a replacement…

  “Oh. Did it go okay?” Jake shut the door and led Tristan to his couch. Judging by the tissue box, bags of chips, and huge bottle of Coke, he’d been on the couch for a while.

  “Yeah,” Tristan said. He tried to keep it casual, not wanting to rub in the fact that he was working and Jake wasn’t. If he could just get Jake a few qualifying jobs, he could get the benefits of the union, and healthcare, and…

  Oh, fuck. Healthcare.

  He sat down and pulled Jake into him. “Are you okay?”

  Jake sounded miserable. “I don’t know. Am I? I will be. I’ve been fired before, for stupid shit. I always get jobs again. People don’t care if you’re a serial job-switcher as long as they can exploit you in their shitty restaurant for a few shitty months.”

  “Oh, hon—” Tristan murmured, then winced. “Sorry.”

  Jake just sighed. The fact that he didn’t even get annoyed was a bad sign. Tristan still didn’t know why some words were allowed and others weren’t, but Jake usually got twitchy after he used the wrong one.. Clearly he was a lot more distressed than he was trying to let on.

  “Do you know why?” Tristan pressed. “Are you sure it was legal?”

  Jake gave a bitter laugh. “I’m sure it wasn’t legal. Obviously.”

  “Yeah,” Tristan chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were screwing up at work or anything. But if it’s not legal, that means…”

  “What, I can go to court?” Jake challenged.

  Tristan tilted his head at the defiance in Jake’s tone. “Well, yeah.”

  “As if. The time and money and getting a lawyer and figuring out how to complain, and I might not even be able to prove anything.” Jake rested his head on Tristan’s shoulder again quietly, and a band of emotions tightened around Tristan’s heart.

  God, I wanna yell at those assholes. “How did it…? Just randomly?”

  “I accidentally let on to Amanda I’m pregnant. The manager, Ned, overheard. He pulled me in at the end of the shift.” Even Jake’s words were soft, like he’d given up on caring.

  As hard as it was to talk to him when he was all sharp edges, it was so much harder to see him uncharacteristically quiet.

  Defeated.

  “So it’s definitely discrimination,” Tristan concluded, biting his tongue for a few moments to stop himself from cursing them out. That might make him feel better, but it wouldn’t help Jake. “I’m sorry, baby. They didn’t deserve you.”

  “Clearly, they agreed.” Jake rubbed his cheek against Tristan’s shoulder, and Tristan caressed his hair.

  “You know what I meant,” Tristan murmured quietly. “You’re too fucking good for them.”

  “Yeah. I just feel dumb for having let it slip. I could have gone another month or two before I started to show—and even then, I could have written it off as a pot belly. Nobody suspects a dude of being pregnant, even a trans dude.”

  Tristan nodded. “Are you gonna look for something else?”

  “I don’t have a lot of choice. But I don’t know how long it will take, and…” Jake trailed off.

  Tristan pulled Jake gently down until his head rested on his lap and rubbed his shoulder and arm. “I’ll help find something if I can.”

  “No. I can manage.”

  Tristan smiled fondly down at Jake, whose eyes were closed as Tristan stroked his hair. That damn stubborn streak of his. It was one of the things he most loved about him, yet the very same part of him that made it hard to get close.

  Tristan had to have patience and hope that Jake would come around.

  “I’d still like to help.”

  “We’ll see when we get there,” Jake murmured, not giving him an inch. He never did in disagreements, and it made Tristan smile. At least he wasn’t that quiet, defeated man Tristan had glimpsed a minute ago. This was more like himself.

  “It might not be a problem. You oughta get the next job you walk in about,” Tristan agreed with a smile. “With your charming smile…”

  The teasing stirred Jake to life, at least. He opened his eyes as he laughed up at Tristan. “I see you trying to flirt.”

  “I’m not trying to flirt,” Tristan told him, clicking his tongue smugly. “I’m succeeding. Look at that blush.”

  Jake hadn’t actually been blushing, but now he was. God, he was easy to tease.

  “Shut up,” Jake laughed, covering his face.

  Just seeing him a little happier, if only for a few moments, made Tristan smile back at him. “Never. And you wouldn’t like me to, really.”

  “No,” Jake agreed, sitting up again and pecking his lips. “You’re right about that. When’s call time?”

  “Eight. More production meetings.”

  “Not too early, then. We can lie in for an hour or two if we go to bed now,” Jake suggested.

  “I think I know what you’re thinking,” Tristan winked.

  He’d been surprised at how high Jake’s libido was. For some reason, he’d assumed pregnancy and sex were incompatible. Apparently, it was exactly the opposite. Some days, Jake seemed lukewarm to the idea. But more days than not, he was practically peeling Tristan’s clothes off before they closed the door.

  “Do you?” Jake raised a brow. “That it’s time to size up?”

  Well, now he was hard. Tristan squirmed as Jake’s hand ran up his thigh. “To the other dick you showed me?” He was getting used to Jake’s usual cock now. The bigger one had just been sitting there for some time on the shelf, like a promise.

  “If you’re very, very good,” Jake teased. He stood up and offered Tristan a hand. When Tristan took it, he found himself being pulled to the bedroom.

  If this was the best way he could offer Jake a distraction, then he’d just have to do it. Completely selflessly, of course. It was a hard job, but someone had to take it on.

  Tristan nearly tripped over his feet in his eagerness to get to the bedroom. “I didn’t expect this,” he admitted. “I figured there’d be more ice cream and less…”

  “Creaming?”

  “Yes,” Tristan laughed. “I like the way you cope, though.”

  Jake grinned as he shut the door. “Strip and kneel.”

  His tone was casual, yet firm. This was the Jake that Tristan knew and loved so much—not that he didn’t love him when he was down, but he worried so much about him, too.

  This Jake was the guy who would flip off the haters and make something even bigger and better of himself in the end. Tristan could hardly wait to see what he did.

  “Yes, sir.” Tristan took a minute to peel his clothes off, letting Jake slowly get an eyeful at a time as he pulled off his shirt, pants, and underwear. By the time he’d yanked the last sock off, he was half-hard, and it was obvious.

  When he sank to his knees, he looked up at Jake for approval.

  “I love that you love being bossed around.” Jake sighed a noise of satisfaction and nodded at him, licking his lips. The slide of that pert pink tongue across his delicate lips made Tristan all the hungrier to taste them.

  Tristan, for his
part, was more confident now than he’d ever been. The less he had to hide and the more secure he felt in what he had and who he was, the easier it was to be assertive. Hell, he’d held his ground during the read-through once today and gotten the director to side with him on the dynamics of one scene.

  But being able to give all that up for a few hours and let Jake call the shots was incredibly satisfying in a way he couldn’t describe if he’d tried. So he hadn’t—not even to Zeph.

  It wasn’t exactly kinky, but there was a clear dominance and submission in all of their sexual interactions that made him feel like he was the bottom, no matter whose equipment was doing what.

  God, Tristan relished it.

  Jake dropped his pants and underwear, and he opened the drawer that Tristan knew held his harness. It took all he had not to squirm with anticipation as Jake swapped out his everyday dick for his harness, picked up the larger cock, and slid it through the ring.

  It took a couple of minutes before the harness was fastened and leather straps dangled alongside his thighs, the black strips framing his hipbones like ribbons against his pale skin. Every passing second only dialed up the anticipation for Tristan.

  He was totally hard now, without even having touched himself. God, sex with Jake was like nothing he’d experienced before. It had only gotten better as they grew familiar with each other’s bodies and tastes.

  “Now,” Jake said as he turned back to him, letting him see the result. The length jutting up along Jake’s stomach made Tristan moan quietly with desire. Jake tugged his shirt off, finally joining Tristan in getting naked. “Where were we?”

  “Fucking me?” Tristan asked, perking up. He knelt up a little straighter for good measure.

  Jake smiled, his expression fond as he cupped himself in one hand to support the length and weight of his cock, and walked closer. “I don’t know if I can get off with this one. It’s pretty new.”

  “Oooh. Like, brand-new?”

  “I’ve only used it on me,” Jake said, smiling as he grabbed a condom.