by Megan Derr
Leaving the coffee to finishing brewing, Jet fetched the ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. He shoved the bottle in his pocket then poured coffee into all four mugs. He carried two of them to the front of the house, unsurprised to find Allen and Jack in the living room. "Didn't know what you wanted in it. I can get cream and sugar if you want."
"This is fine," Jack said, taking them both. "Thanks. We'll make sure nothing happens."
"After the way you scared off that reporter, I believe it," Jet said. "Thanks for taking care of Jason. If you need anything, just give a shout."
Jack nodded and Jet returned to the kitchen to fetch the other two cups of coffee and returned to the office with them. He closed the door with his heel, then turned to the desk—and smiled faintly, fondly, when he saw that Jason had fallen asleep in his chair.
He set the coffee on the desk then gently got Jason to his feet. Jason jerked awake and blinked uncomprehendingly at Jet. Then he groaned and dipped his head, resting it against Jet's shoulder. "I am really tired of sleeping."
"You just need to sleep off all the drugs at this point, and it is four-something in the morning," Jet said. "Into bed. We can't have make-up sex until you're healthy again, after all."
"Don't talk about sex if there's not going to be any," Jason groused and gently pushed him away. "Fine, then. Bed. But only for a couple of hours, because I really do have to get to work—"
Jet kissed him, sliding his fingers through Jason's hair, mindful of the knot on the back of his head, the bruises that still covered his face. "Shut up and switch off," he said, then took Jason's good hand and led him out of the room and upstairs to his bedroom.
Getting Jason's clothes off took some doing, but eventually Jet got him into bed and settled comfortably. Digging out a few pills, he gave them to Jason with a bit of water from the glass on the nightstand. "All set."
"No," Jason snapped. "If I have to rest, you have to rest."
"I just woke up—"
"Now," Jason ordered, and Jet relented because there was never any resisting when Jason got that commanding tone. Not that he'd ever really tried. Jet undressed before killing the light and sliding under the covers on the other side of the bed.
His heart should not have been tripping the way it was, because it wasn't as if they hadn't slept together in Jason's bed before. Except, well, they hadn't. Not really. Not unless they were exhausted and too lazy to move after sex.
Jet cautiously shifted closer, half afraid that he was out of line and that horrible moment on the stairs would replay—but when he rested a hand across Jason's stomach, all he got was a soft sigh and Jason's good hand covering his, a warm and reassuring weight. "Goodnight," Jet whispered, and he watched the shadowy outline of Jason until his breathing evened out before he finally let himself relax enough to sleep.
Track 10: Thicker Than Blood
Jason woke up immediately alert, eyes snapping to the doorway where a shadowy figure stood. Allen. "What?" he asked, voice raspy.
"Mr. Azura is here to see you."
"Help me out of bed," Jason said, reluctantly disentangling himself from Jet after pressing a brief kiss to his temple. He winced as Allen helped him, but made no noise of complaint because the last thing he wanted was for Jet to wake up. Dragging himself to his closet, he pulled on jeans and a black t-shirt, not bothering with anything else.
Getting downstairs was another adventure, and Jason was grateful for the water and pills already waiting for him on his desk. He sat down, swallowed the pills, then finally looked at the men gathered in his office.
Azura sat in the chair in front of his desk, Allen, Jack, and Mickey stood scattered around the room. There was also a new guy—he was short and compact, with spiky black hair and a cold look in his eyes. He made Jason think of an evil version of Jet.
"This is Tybalt," Azura said, motioning to the new man. "The rest you know. I first need to apologize for all that has happened. When I promised that nothing would happen, I meant it. I did not expect Alvese to break the Emperor's leash and try to do his own thing."
Jason replied, "Well he certainly will not be doing anything else, will he?"
"No, he won't. That was not me, however. That was the Emperor. Make no mistake, I would have done it, but the Emperor was apologizing to you and to me in his own fashion."
"I'm more interested in protecting Forever and a Dai," Jason said, then added, "and the firm."
Azura's mouth curved in a smirk and the look in his blue eyes seemed to say he knew everything Jason wasn't saying. Then again, Jason had been in bed with Jet, so there really wasn't anything more to say. "The firm will not be a problem. For all their grousing and grumbling, they're mostly just irritated they'll have to work harder than usual for a few weeks. It will blow over, as it always does, and I pay them extremely well to weather such storms. My people are handling the media and the problem will be resolved in a matter of days."
"What about the band?"
"Nothing to fear there, either," Azura replied and motioned Mickey forward.
Smiling in that sultry way that seemed to be his default, Mickey set a thick envelope on Jason's desk. "Concert offers, a few other deals. Good people who would not do business with the likes of Azura."
"Except they are doing business with Azura," Jason said.
Azura laughed. "Some of them are not as pristine as the world thinks, others are mercifully oblivious. Rest assured that any doubts that may have woken about the band due to this will be put to rest. Forever and a Dai has nothing to worry about beyond negotiating those contracts and scheduling the concerts. All of that, however, is merely damage control. I am here because I owe you a favor and an apology and you may request whatever you want."
"Whatever I want," Jason repeated.
"Yes," Azura said.
There were, no doubt, a million possible demands he could make, each more extravagant than the last. If he played his cards right, he would never want for anything again. Money had never been his problem. Neither had his lifestyle. He liked his jobs—both of them. The one and only thing missing was the one thing he really wanted.
He wondered if he should feel worse about the way it would hurt his parents, but could not bring himself to care after the way his father had behaved. "I want Jet," he said finally. "Make us unrelated. Can you do that? I want to be able to tell the world we're not actually related and I want it to stick no matter who decides to look into it. I don't care what it takes—that's what I want."
Azura lifted one brow, mouth curving with wry approval. "Will it come as a shock to your mother to know she slept around?"
"I doubt it," Jason replied. "Not my problem. You said you would do anything. Do it."
Laughing again, Azura said, "You really are quite ruthless. I do not suppose I can offer you a job?"
Jason stared at him, honestly surprised. "You don't retain in-house lawyers."
"No, I do not trust lawyers to be that close to me," Azura replied. "I like it better when they have their own offices and I can control what they see and do."
"But you're asking me." Azura nodded. Jason studied him, considered the offer. "Tempting, but no," he said at last. "I really hate getting beat up, and I prefer being an entertainment lawyer to a corporate lawyer. But if I ever change my mind I'll let you know."
"So be it," Azura said and stood up. "I'll get back to you in a few weeks; it takes time to rewrite a family history at the level you're requiring. Nothing else you want?"
"I'll let you know," Jason drawled. "You're free to take your men with you. I'm sure they're tired of babysitting me."
Azura nodded. "If you like, but I'll reassign them if trouble reemerges. I hear that we will not be seeing your charming visage around the firm any longer."
"No, it's time I seek different employment," Jason said.
Smirk returning, Azura asked, "Going to take up writing full time?"
"Shut up and get out of my house," Jason retorted, not even remotely surprised that Azu
ra knew about his books. He was surprised only that he had not mentioned it until that point.
Azura motioned to his men and minutes later Jason listened as they drove away. Reaching out, only wincing slightly, he pulled the packet closer and opened it up. He whistled at the contracts inside, reluctantly impressed with Azura's pull. The band wouldn't know what to do with themselves with such concerts lined up, and all that on top of being offered a chance to perform at Paradise.
Jason relaxed in his seat and sipped at his water, pondering what to do for the three hours he had to kill before his secretary showed up to begin working on transferring his work to other members of the firm. He would need to sort out which clients would stay with the firm and which ones he could coax away to start his own practice.
That wouldn't be too hard, though, because the only clients he really wanted to keep were all bands and a couple of authors. If Forever and a Dai stuck with him, which they obviously would, the rest would likely choose him over the firm as well.
So he would have to see about securing offices. There was no way he would actually turn his home into a business. Short term, he would need an administrative assistance and someone to manage the books. He could probably coax his admin from the firm into going with him, but where would he find a number cruncher?
Frowning, suddenly reminded of that strange visitor to the hospital, Jason fumbled for the card before remembering it was in his wallet and he'd left that upstairs. Damn it. Of course, Jet was also upstairs and that was more than worth the pain of moving.
Jason slowly stood up and trudged his way through the house, grateful that the pain meds had dulled things enough that the trip was miserable, but not agonizing. When he reached the bedroom, though, the sight that greeted him would have been worth agony.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and carded his hand through Jet's hair, mindful of the tangles. Sleepy, mismatched eyes stared up at him. "You're dressed."
"Had a visitor," Jason replied quietly. "Scoot over."
Jet grunted and moved, then sat up enough to help Jason get his clothes off again. When Jason was settled, Jet carefully curled up next to him, dropping a warm kiss on Jason's shoulder. "This is weird," he said sleepily.
"What's weird? It's hardly the first time we've been in bed together."
"First time I didn't need to use sex as an excuse to get here," Jet mumbled against his skin, the words only just comprehensible and only because Jason was used to parsing all forms of Jet-speak. "First time we don't feel like …" He didn't finish the sentence, but he hardly needed to—they both knew he meant 'fuck buddies'.
Jason didn't reply, just trailed the fingers of his good hand along Jet's skin, admiring as ever just how little of it was not inked. "I think our stupid blackmail game has run its course, don't you? Let's see how doing this the normal way works." He snorted softly. "Well, the semi-normal way."
"Yeah, I don't think most folks consider kissing cousins normal, though I bet they'd rethink it if they had a cousin as hot as you."
"What did I tell you about discussing sex if we're not going to have any?" Jason said with a groan. "Shut up. Go back to sleep. My secretary is going to be here soon."
"And I'm supposed to go back to sleep? Yeah, right. It's pretty damn obvious which one of us got beat up."
Jason rolled his eyes. "I see the sympathy well has finally run dry."
Sitting up beside him, tangled hair tumbling about in deliciously distracting fashion, Jet scowled down at him. "I'm worried sick about you, but I know better than to keep coddling. Shit, if I could convince you to stay here and fucking rest until you were back to one hundred percent I would in a heartbeat. But I'd accomplish more beating my head against a wall of nails."
"What in the world would that accomplish?" Jason asked, mouth quirking. "I can't think it would finally teach you sense."
"Fuck you."
"I wish," Jason muttered. "Stop talking about sex, or the minute I'm able you're going to get a beating. What time is it?"
Jet glanced at the bedside clock. "Almost nine."
"Time flies," Jason said with a sigh. "Help me. I really do need to get a shower before I start dealing with more people."
"Can't you just rest?" Jet asked, voice thin as he let the full weight of his worry show.
Jason tangled his fingers in Jet's hair and drew him down into a soft kiss, savoring the fact that he could. That there was no desk between them, no argument in the air, that Jet wasn't visiting him at the dead of night so they wouldn't get caught. Jet's fingers fluttered softly against his cheek and soft, nonsensical murmurs brushed along his lips as the kiss went on and on.
When they finally drew apart, Jason sighed again, wishing desperately that he could do more than enjoy a few kisses. "Help me into the shower."
"Can your stitches get wet?" Jet asked with a frown.
"They should be fine. It's only my fingers I have to watch out for, and I'll just keep my hand out of the water."
Jet's mouth twitched. "Need help showering?"
"Am I allowed to say no?"
Faint smile turning into a full on grin, Jet said, "No."
Jason sighed again, but it was all the fuss he could muster as Jet helped him into the bathroom and got the water running, then helped him into the tub. Showering together was even stranger than sleeping together. "I don't need you to wash me," he said when it was clear Jet had every intention of doing just that.
"Stop your bitching," Jet said. "It's cute when you get pissy, but you said I can't do anything about that so stop tempting me." He carefully washed the stitched up area on Jason's forehead and leg, then scrubbed the rest of him clean. His hands slid over Jason's body with an easy familiarity that should not have left Jason so breathless, but most certainly did. He had felt those hands on him countless times while they fucked, but he'd never felt them as acutely as he did while they carefully washed him.
By the time Jet finished, Jason was breathless and aching and painfully aware that there would never be any going back to what they had been. Whatever he had to do to keep moving forward, he would. "Jet …"
Jet twined an arm around his neck, other hand still holding the wash cloth, and kissed him slow and deep, leaving Jason shivering and so hard it hurt. "I keep waiting for you to change your mind, or to wake up," he murmured and wrapped a hand around Jason's cock. "Hold still," he whispered, and with sure, firm movements quickly brought Jason off, kissing him all the while, the shower hot and steaming all around them.
"Brat," Jason said when he was capable of speaking again, resting his head gingerly on Jet's shoulder, sucking water off his skin before he pulled away again. "Get clean."
Grinning, Jet obeyed, washing himself and then cleaning Jason's hair. The water was just running cool by the time they climbed out. Jason shivered in the cooler room air, enjoying it after the near-boiling shower. He went to his closet, looked at his nicer clothes, and decided that he still did not really care. Pulling on boxers, he retrieved his jeans from the floor then slowly trudged back to the closet to pull on a white tank top and a dark green button down shirt.
"Only you could wear jeans and still look hopelessly dressed up," Jet said.
"Only you could dress up and still look like a rentboy," Jason retorted.
Jet stuck his tongue out and threw his towel at Jason, then bent to pull clothes out of the duffle bag on the floor. Dressed in dark denim jeans and a long-sleeved, black t-shirt, his hair tied back, he almost looked respectable. But the gleam perpetually in his eyes said he had no idea what that word meant and no interest in learning.
It was entirely unfair Jason could not strip all those clothes off again and fuck him senseless. He settled for stealing another kiss—or three—before following Jet downstairs to the kitchen. He sat at the bar while coffee brewed and murmured his thanks when Jet set a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him.
"Do you need more meds or anything?" Jet asked when he set a cup of coffee in front of Jason a few minu
tes later.
"No," Jason replied. "Thanks for breakfast. What are you up to the rest of the day?"
Jet shrugged and sat down next to him, munching cinnamon-sugar toast between sentences. "Stay out of the line of fire, ideally. That's what my lawyer ordered me to do, so I'm going to try to do it." He grinned. "Unless you have a better suggestion?"
"No, I'll take you listening to me for once," Jason said. "If there's anything you need, my housekeeper can go get it for you. Otherwise, the house is yours—and the rest of the band is of course welcome, though I imagine we won't be seeing them for a while yet."
Snorting, Jet replied, "No, they actually know the meaning of the word sleep. Are we still meeting with Ex later in the week to finalize all the paperwork?"
"Yes, and there will probably be a press conference about it, too. There always is when Ex acquires something. Dealing with that will be interesting after all this chaos." He grimaced and drank more of his coffee.
The doorbell rang and he stifled a sigh. "That's Leigh, my secretary. I don't suppose you'd get it while I trudge my way to the office?"
"Sure," Jet said and kissed him briefly before darting away to answer the door.
Jason refilled his coffee and headed for his study. He had just reached his desk when Jet and Leigh came in chatting a mile a minute.
"All these years I've worked for Jason and I've never met you! I'm so excited I finally get to. My daughters will die knowing that I got to talk to you. Thank you so much for signing stuff for them."
Jet grinned. "Hang around long enough and the rest of the band will wake up."
In the seven years Leigh had worked for him, Jason had never seen her anything but cool and professional. He hadn't known she was capable of making that particular noise. "Never tell me you've been a screaming fan this entire time," he said.
She made a face at him. "Of course I am! Who isn't? And you might play it all cool and disinterested, but who arranges your schedule around their concerts, hmm?"