by Jaime Reese
"Stop pushing me away. Just be honest with me. If I do or say something that makes you uncomfortable or sets off one of your internal red-alerts to erect another layer of that shell you've got, please, just…talk to me. The last two weeks were…tough," he finished quietly and lowered his head.
"I promise to try," he said solemnly. Be honest, talk, don't shut him out. He took a deep breath then another, hoping to steady himself before his next few words. "The last two weeks were tough for me too."
Jessie glanced up, hesitated, then reached over and gave Aidan a peck on the cheek.
Aidan stilled and swallowed heavily. All the while-you-were-sleeping kisses he'd placed on Jessie's forehead or cheek while he was in a coma had been stolen. This…this was real, although somewhat surreal at the moment. And Jessie-initiated. He was thankful as hell he was sitting down when it happened because he couldn't feel his legs at the moment. He stared at Jessie, not knowing what to say, but he hoped whatever had triggered that action would just rinse and repeat. Something kept fluttering inside his chest and stomach.
It was stupid. It was ridiculous how excited he was over such a tiny thing…and he didn't give a shit. His heartbeat raced. He was happy for the first time in a long damn time to have some form of personal contact. And the fact that it was Jessie? Hell yeah.
Jessie watched him carefully then tightened his lips as if holding back a smile as a flush of heat colored his cheeks.
"What was that for?" Aidan asked hoarsely.
"You said I could do whatever I wanted. Right now, I wanted to kiss you. Was that okay?"
Aidan nodded. "Um, you can"—he cleared his throat and rubbed his palms against his thighs again—"do that whenever you want," he mumbled, unable to think of anything else semi-coherent to say to fill the silence. And shit, had he just said that out loud?
Jessie leaned over and rested his head on Aidan's shoulder. "Thank you. For always being there for me."
He closed his eyes and turned his head, inhaling a breath as his lips brushed against Jessie's soft hair.
"I think the pain meds are kicking in," Jessie said, slurring his words.
Aidan stood and took the crutch, placing it against the nightstand. He closed the blinds and pulled back the sheet as Jessie slowly positioned himself in the bed. He stepped forward to raise Jessie's casted leg and removed his shoe, helping him settle into the bed before pulling up the sheet again. Aidan walked out of the room and returned with one of the cordless phones, dialing his cell number then hanging up the line. "If you need me, just hit redial. Otherwise, just call out for Bull who'll probably be in the living room."
"Okay," Jessie said, snuggling into the pillow and yawning.
"I'm going to set the house alarm before I leave so don't pop a window. And don't worry about your car. I'll get that taken care of."
"Thanks, Aidan."
He looked at Jessie's semi-sleepy, smiling face and nodded before walking out of the room and leaving the house.
He was wrong about one thing.
Jessie's smile wasn't going to kill him. Waiting for another kiss would.
PART 3:
Mending
Four months later
Aidan held up the punch mitts toward Jessie, bouncing on his feet and circling the matted floor, forcing Jessie to follow his path. Aidan loved sparring with him, knowing he had played a role in Jessie's recovery.
"Again."
Jessie wiped the sweat from his brow and immediately reset his stance—hands up, blocking his face like a boxer. He'd managed to avoid a punch by ducking then retaliated with a swing. Textbook perfect. Just like everything he did.
"Don't be afraid to hit me," Aidan teased. "But that would mean you'd have to catch me first."
Jessie scowled, tightening his stance and unconsciously flexing his arm muscles. The taunt had obviously hit its mark.
They'd been working out together for the last few months, mainly on weekends or on those evenings when Aidan needed to work off some steam. Sometimes, they'd work out before he had to head in to work. They began with walks in the neighboring park and had worked up to cardio workouts to build up endurance. Jessie wanted to quickly move on to physical sparring sessions, but Aidan fought the urge to cave into those pleading, crystal blue puppy-dog eyes. He had never denied Jessie anything, but no way would Aidan put him at risk of injury.
He took a step forward then backed away just as abruptly, smiling when Jessie's body tensed in anticipation. "Your attacker won't announce an attack and won't stand still and wait for you to hit them. You need to be ready for the unexpected," he said, lowering his hands and pacing back and forth, keeping eye contact with Jessie's unwavering gaze. He loved it when Jessie was all intense and no nonsense. And damn, all the working out suited him well. His overall lean physique was now defined, and his biceps curved and dipped to exhibit each firm muscle. His stride held a confidence that hadn't been there before. His now tight abs, and his taut shoulders and neck, showcased every muscle and bone in his upper body to pure perfection. And the way Jessie's Adam's apple moved up and down his neck always threw Aidan into a fantasy world where Jess did more with his throat than just swallow spit and breath in air.
Beautiful. Breathtaking. The thing of wet dreams that triggered a perpetual hard-on, keeping Aidan in an eternal state of frustration and bliss.
"So come at me already," Jessie said, dipping his head and raising his gloved fists, readying himself, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of his eyes.
As if the body changes weren't lickable enough, Jessie had kept his hair slightly longer in the front, and it now brushed his forehead during their workouts when he bypassed the gel products.
Aidan wanted to run his damn fingers through that soft hair. He wanted to grip that shit and pull Jessie's head back and lick and bite that fucking sexy as hell Adam's apple.
He finally stopped pacing and placed his hands on his hips. "I think we're done for the day." He removed his mitts and reached for the towel on the side table, patting the sweat off his face.
Jessie frowned, dropping his arms to his side. "You're no fun." He ripped off the Velcro strap with his teeth and tucked his hand under his opposite arm to remove the glove. He bent and reached for his towel then walked over to the corner to turn off the music streaming from his iPod.
Aidan turned his back to Jessie, hiding a smile. He loved having Jessie around. Evenings at home were better than he could have ever imagined. Not only was the man a beast in the kitchen, but he'd grown incredibly comfortable around Aidan and they teased each other endlessly. They'd become best friends, and Aidan enjoyed every second in his presence.
A yank on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. He raised his hands to prepare for a punch but hadn't anticipated the leg sweep that knocked him flat on his ass…or the accidental jab to his groin with Jessie's knee on his way down to the mat. Aidan's eyes teared up and he immediately cupped his balls and bent his knees. He'd been shot at, stabbed, and hit with more weapons than he cared to remember. But his family jewels…they were sacred and very delicate. And very much in severe pain at the moment.
"Oh shit, I'm sorry." Jessie knelt on the floor at his side.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Don't apologize," Aidan hissed through clenched teeth. "Cheap shot, Jess. But a damn good one I might add."
A laugh bubbled from Jessie, and he quickly slapped a hand to his mouth to cover the smile. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh. I just meant to drop you. I sure as hell didn't mean to hurt you."
Aidan scowled. "Go away. I'd like to keep my other parts intact."
"Aww, the big strong man got taken down by his smaller pupil," Jessie said, poking Aidan's side with his index finger and speaking in a mocking tone.
"Shut up," he said, laughing, then ending on a groan. Aidan uncupped his balls and test-stretched a leg, grimacing at the shock of pain and the churning in his stomach. He lay on his back and closed his eyes.
"Damn, I'm really sorry."
"I fucking deserved it.
I shouldn't have taunted you."
"When are you going to show me more of those self-defense moves you talked about?"
"When I get a pair of iron balls."
"Mmm."
"I swear you're obsessed with balls." For some reason, any mention of balls, nuts, globes, or anything remotely suggestive and spherical always made Jessie perk up and stand at attention. He had a bona fide ball fetish he didn't even bother denying.
Jessie softly laughed. "You give me an Aidanism even when you're in pain. I keep telling you, it's a gift."
A smile spread across his face. Jessie had coined the phrase after Aidan's repeated comebacks and snarky comments during their conversations. He fucking loved that silly little word and knowing Jess actually liked his occasional sarcasm enough to give it a nickname. "You did good. Just give me a little bit to recover." After a few minutes, he slowly sat up then stood before bending forward and resting his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily to steady himself.
Jessie stood alongside him and reached over, rubbing his hand up and down Aidan's arm.
He took a deep breath, enjoying the heat of the comforting touch. "It's not my arm that hurts."
"Want me to rub your balls?"
Aidan straightened. "Smartass. I don't want you anywhere near my balls."
"Shame," Jessie whispered with a smirk.
They often teased, but Aidan always nipped it in the bud before it went too far. He enjoyed living under the same roof with Jessie and refused to do anything to make their relationship awkward again. The occasional smooch on the cheek with good news or a goodnight hug held him over just fine—far more than any contact he'd had with anyone else in quite some time. He looked up at the wall clock. "I'm going to grab a quick shower."
"I'm going to run on the treadmill for a few minutes. Meet you for breakfast in the kitchen in twenty?"
Aidan nodded, finally straightening and walking out—oh so slowly—from their workout room and into the bedroom to get ready for work.
About twenty minutes later, he stood in the kitchen—leaning forward, resting his elbows on the countertop and his chin on his fists—staring at the bread, waiting for that perfect shade of gold.
"Wait a minute. Do I smell what I think I'm smelling?" Jessie said with a gasp, entering the kitchen, trailing a faint hint of lemon soap in the air.
Aidan looked over his shoulder with a half smile, before refocusing on the bread. He had quickly pinpointed Jessie's weakness: croissants, fresh from the oven, warm enough to melt the butter. "That depends on what you're smelling."
"I can sniff out a croissant a mile away." He inched closer, resting his chin on Aidan's shoulder. "Why are you staring at them?"
He turned his head, barely an inch between them. "I don't want them to burn." Even though Jessie had attempted to teach him how to work his way around in the kitchen, anything above and beyond boiling water or toasting a piece of bread—under close supervision—was a crap shoot. His toaster oven had a mind of its own and never cooperated. No way in hell would he deprive Jessie of his one weakness.
That would be worse than a double kick to the balls.
Jessie smiled and leaned in, his still-wet hair brushing against the side of Aidan's neck. He then placed a kiss on Aidan's cheek before stepping away and reaching into the refrigerator for the juice.
He smiled at Jessie then returned his focus to the evil toaster. He refused to chance it further and pulled out the warm breads from the small oven.
"Mmm, that smells good." That moan shot a bolt of heat right down to his aching balls as he walked over to the table with the plate full of warm croissants.
Jessie needed no further prompting before ripping apart a croissant and buttering it up. Aidan drank his juice, trying to ignore the sounds of pure ecstasy coming from Jessie. I wonder if he makes those same sounds… He squashed the random thought before it had a chance to plant roots and drive him mad. He wouldn't go there, couldn't go there.
They finally finished up breakfast and cleared the table. Aidan grabbed his wallet and keys then abruptly turned to face Jessie. "If you want me to pick something up, just text me." He smiled as Jessie walked over to the sofa and straightened the cushions, stepped back, then repeated the process until everything was picture perfect.
"I've got a stack of case files I need to research by the end of the week," Jessie absently said, inspecting his work. "So if you don't hear from me, feel free to nudge me. I'm always worried I'm going to text you at the worst possible moment."
Jessie worked from home as a legal research consultant and often lost track of time. Aidan missed seeing him dressed in his sharp suits, but he was definitely happier knowing Jessie was safe at home. Home. Aidan sighed inwardly. He liked the sound of that. Not his home and no need to clarify their home; just home. Plain and simple. And he couldn't have asked for anything more. Living with Jessie was easy, comfortable, and he craved the evenings when he could just spend time with him.
"You're never a bother. If I'm busy, I'll respond as soon as I get a chance." He looked away before he revealed more than he should and made his way toward the door.
"Have a nice day at the office." Jessie shoved him out the house with a pat on the ass.
Aidan stumbled out the door with a silly grin plastered on his face. Yeah, he totally loved this living together thing.
* * * *
"I hate this Michael Johnson asshole," Manny mumbled.
Aidan looked up from the case file. "Finally, Reyes, we agree on something."
Manny frowned, the crease between his brows deepening with each passing second. "How the hell is it possible for someone to vanish off the face of the earth like that?"
"He came back for him after fifteen years. That's a big span of time, so he's careful and meticulous."
"And patient," Manny added. "That's a big problem."
"Make that two things we agree on."
Every lead they had on Jessie's attacker had gone ice cold. Manny had demanded Jessie come in two months ago to answer more follow-up questions. Aidan feared the pushy prick had planned to take advantage of the interrogation to dish out a lengthy list of stupid homophobic jabs…but he couldn't have been more wrong.
Manny had approached each question with uncharacteristic gentleness which Aidan suspected mirrored the manner he usually handled cases within his department. But Manny's irritation was tangible and the extent of his questions, however delicately phrased, still punctuated the epic proportions of his frustration at not being able to solve the case that would have landed in his own department, regardless of his appointed team status.
He had asked hundreds of questions about Michael, trying to pinpoint anything that would shine some light on how to find him—what type of magazines Jessie had seen, what types of items decorated the house, any logos on store bags, the man's schedule, whether it remained the same on weekends, what did he usually wear, the length of his hair, and on and on. What the fuck did Aidan care if this bastard kept his nails clean or if he had calloused hands? But apparently, Manny said it might be an indicator of the line of work he did.
Logical bastard. Hell, those were clues Aidan spotted in homicide cases. But somehow, when it came to Michael Johnson, he had a hard time focusing or using anything remotely resembling common sense. He hated to admit his captain was right…he had become myopic. He had been given a very strict hands-off ultimatum from his captain on anything related to Jessie's case. If he interfered in any way, the case would be pulled from the team and delegated to a different department, probably buried under the pile of unsolved, pending casework since they'd hit the six-month mark.
He granted his team the space they needed but still managed to linger close enough to keep his finger on the pulse of progress. They kept him updated on every tiny detail they encountered, regardless of how small. And each of them worked the case from different angles.
One thing kept his mind at ease, Jessie had managed to effortlessly win over the team with his quiet d
emeanor and soft-spoken nature, which seemed to motivate them to work the case more diligently.
The thought of that bastard out there grated on every protective nerve ending in Aidan's body. He just wanted the asshole caught and everything done so they could move on. How Jessie managed to not let it get to him was a wonder. He'd simply stated, "It took him more than fifteen years to come after me. I'm not going to sit around and panic for another fifteen."
Aidan shook his head, hoping to dispel the thoughts racing through his mind and focus on the case file in his hands.
Manny continued to flip each sheet within the file as if some new information would appear just as quickly as Michael had vanished. "It's ridiculous. I contacted every damn agency who's tapped us to help on a case to see if they could poke around in their system…just in case the guy had decided to go global. Nothing. I can't even attempt to sweet-talk one of them to use their facial rec system because I don't have a damn face to go with this asshole. He's. Pissing. Me. Off."
He definitely liked this version of Detective Manny Reyes far more than the jab-delivering prick he had become accustomed to. "What do you suggest?"
Manny tapped his pen against the folder. "Not sure yet. But I'll be damned if I let that jerk best me in my own field. I've got a profiler coming to discuss another case, and I'm going to pick his brain on a few things regarding this asshole." He pushed back his chair and stalked out of the room with determination, barely missing Sunny and Travis as they walked into the team conference room.
"What bug crawled up his ass?" Travis asked.
"Michael-Fucking-Johnson."
His team members groaned. "The part that gets me…" Travis began, pulling out the chair across from Aidan. He lowered his brow and clasped his hands on the table. "What he did back then to Vega, it's…not the kind of thing someone does once and that's it. The attack that night, that was different. Horrible, yes, but different. You piss anyone off enough, and they can lose their shit. But kidnapping someone and holding them in those conditions for that length of time…that's the part that drives me crazy and the thing that's driving Reyes nuts. Someone like that does it more than once. And we've got no other victims, nothing else to show any pattern to guide us or anything to point us in any particular direction."