by Nora Phoenix
His jaw started to ache from opening wide, but he fucking refused to stop. Connor was so close, he could feel it. He was going to win this damn bet if it killed him. Or both of them. But for fuck’s sake, could the guy come already? Even his hand was cramping from the repeated movement.
Suddenly, Connor grabbed Josh's head with both hands, fired off a round of hyperfast thrusts into Josh's mouth. Josh let go of the vibrator, couldn’t get his worn-out muscles to hold it anymore. With a roar that had to be audible all the way in the basement, Connor came, spasming hard. A few droplets of cum landed in Josh's mouth, and he swallowed reflexively.
Connor dropped on his back, his hands sliding off Josh and his legs falling down. With effort, Josh climbed over Connor’s legs and nestled against him, his arm around Connor’s sticky chest. Tired as he must be, Connor still reached out and pulled Josh even closer, making him rest his head on Connor’s shoulder.
“Remind me to never make a bet with you again,” Connor said, at least three minutes later.
Josh smiled sleepily. “You didn’t enjoy it?”
A soft laugh rumbled through Connor’s chest. “Baby, you almost killed me. I don’t think I would survive another bet.”
“I won,” Josh said, not even trying to keep the triumph out of his voice. “You’d better come up with something good. I fucking earned it.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I did some research online today, and you’re gonna love it.”
Josh's eyes, which had drifted asleep, flew wide open. Should he be worried? Nah. Connor wouldn’t hurt him, not more than would bring pleasure. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.
Connor’s arm tightened around him, and Josh felt himself falling asleep.
“I love you, too, Josh.”
12
As if it wasn’t weird enough to be living in the same house as his brother again, now Josh had to deal with the fact Aaron had undoubtedly heard them yesterday evening. Yeah, Connor and he had both forgotten about the little detail of Aaron staying in the guest bedroom when they started their sexual extravaganza. Fuck, Aaron must have gotten quite the audio show.
Josh hesitated a little before going downstairs even though Connor had long since gone down to face the confrontation. He’d been up early as usual and had jumped in the shower without even waiting for Josh to wake up. No wonder, the man had to be sticky and itchy from yesterday evening as they’d both been too worn out to bother cleaning up. He’d better change the bed sheets today, Josh thought. Again. Luckily, he and Noah had bought quite the collection as there were weeks where they went through a fresh set daily.
Taking a deep breath, Josh made his way downstairs. Connor was dropping a few slices of bacon in the skillet while Aaron was at the counter, looking ten kinds of nervous. Huh, maybe he’s dreading this conversation as much as I am?
“Hey, baby,” Connor said.
Almost automatically, Josh walked over to him, leaned in for a kiss. He would never understand how and why, but Connor grounded him. Just feeling his body, hearing his voice made Josh connect with the present.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, but I desperately wanted a shower,” Connor said softly, holding on to Josh's neck with his hand. There was a twinkle in his eyes.
“I can imagine,” Josh said, slowly exhaling. It would be okay. He and Noah had never given a fuck what others thought, so why would he start now because it was his brother?
Connor gave him a quick kiss, then turned his attention back to the stove.
“Go sit,” Josh said. “I got this.”
“I can do it. It’s okay.”
Josh gently pushed him. “No, it’s not. This is my kitchen, and you’re my man, so I prepare your breakfast. What else did you want aside from bacon?”
Connor beamed Josh a smile that was so full of pride and love it made him all gooey inside. “Eggs. Protein. Lots of protein. Gotta replenish my strength.”
The accompanying wink made Josh blush. He shook his head, buried it in the fridge while gathering ingredients for a hearty omelet. A couple of eggs, ham, he’d throw in some avocado and kale and finish it off with cheese. That had to be enough, right?
He set everything on the counter, then remembered Aaron. “What can I get you for breakfast?” he asked. Yeah, so it wasn’t completely cordial, but he was trying, okay?
“Anything is fine. I’m not a picky eater,” Aaron said carefully.
“You never were. Tell me what you want: cereal, yogurt with granola, oatmeal, something warm?”
“Whatever is easiest for you.”
“Fuck, Aaron, tell me what the fuck you want, okay? You probably mean it well, but it’s annoying the shit out of me.” He met Aaron’s eyes, saw a flash of temper. He crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes. “And if you have a problem with my fucking language, you can pack your fucking bags and find some other fucking place to stay.”
Aaron clenched his fists. “I don’t have a problem with your f-fucking language as you put it so eloquently. I do, however, have a problem with the fact that everything I do frustrates you. I get that you’re still angry with me, Josh, and you have every right to be, but I’m trying, okay?”
Josh sighed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard the f-bomb coming out of your mouth.”
Aaron shrugged. “Lots of first times these last few months.”
“Like hearing your brother have gay sex,” Josh threw in there. Aaron swallowed visibly. Josh straightened, stood ramrod tall. “If you have an issue with that…”
“I don’t. I swear,” Aaron interjected him. “I didn’t want to make it awkward by saying anything.”
“Yeah, ‘cause the fact you heard us wasn’t awkward enough in the first place,” Josh muttered.
“I found ear plugs in the drawer, put those in so I could give you guys your privacy.”
“Oh.” Josh wasn’t sure how that made him feel, but at least he appreciated Aaron’s effort. He didn’t know what to say, so he started cutting up the ingredients for the omelet.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love some of whatever you’re fixing for Connor,” Aaron said softly.
Josh didn’t look at him. “No problem.”
Breakfast was blissfully peaceful, with Aaron reading the newspaper while he and Connor chatted over nothing.
“I thought maybe we could go over to Indy’s jiujitsu studio, find out if his professor has seen him. Indy was supposed to train yesterday, and he never misses, so maybe he went, and the guy knows something,” Josh said after breakfast. Aaron had gone upstairs to take a shower, so it was just him and Connor.
“Sounds good. What about Aaron?”
“He’ll have to come with us because I don’t want to leave him here by himself.”
Connor looked at Josh inquisitively. “You don’t trust him? He’s your brother.”
Josh grimaced. “Yeah, my brother who has made my life hell ever since I came out. No, I don’t trust him.”
“Okay. We’ll take him with us, but we won’t explain anything. He can’t know about Indy, agreed?”
“He can’t stay long. If Indy scouts the place because he wants to come back and sees a strange face, he’s gone,” Josh stressed.
“We’ll figure something out.”
As a Bostonian, Indy was genetically programmed to hate New York City. The truth was he appreciated certain aspects of the city. The Yankees sucked, obviously, and New Yorkers had to be the rudest people on the planet. But Central Park was lovely, especially in the summer, the shopping was unparalleled, and he loved the weirdness of this city. Right now, more than anything, he appreciated the busyness, the hustle and bustle, which assured no one was paying attention to a slim, young woman.
Fuck, he hardly recognized himself. He’d gone for a complete makeover. Colored contacts had transformed his brown eyes into pale blue ones that were completely forgettable, and a wig with straight, blond hair covered his curls. He’d put on some makeup, but not so much it would stand out, and wore the m
ost nondescriptive jeans, top, and shoes ever. He wasn’t attractive enough to pay attention to, but also not so odd or flashy people would notice him for different reasons. He completely blended in.
He’d driven to Newark Station, had parked his car there and caught the Jersey Transit to Manhattan. Easy peasy since it brought him straight to Penn Station. He looked around casually as he disembarked the train. No one seemed to pay attention to him, and no one stood out to him.
It was decent weather, considering it was mid-December. It was chilly, but not freezing cold. That could change quickly, though. Being from Boston, he knew what winter could look like here in the northeast. One nor’easter and you’d be paying good money to move south.
He’d already searched online to find the Starbucks and walked straight to it. He glanced around quickly when he entered. There were about half a dozen people in line, mostly professionals judging by the suits and office outfits, and he patiently took his spot. Most of the tables inside were occupied, which was not uncommon this time of day. Everyone seemed to be hunched over a laptop or was furiously texting.
“Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. Can I take your order?”
He gave the forty-something barista a quick once-over. He was a gorgeous lumberjack type if that was your thing, with a carefully trimmed beard. Automatically, Indy’s eyes went to his name tag. Jack. Well, that made it easy. “A tall latte macchiato please.”
“Absolutely. What’s the name?”
“Rose.”
“Alright. Four-sixty, please.”
He gave him a five-dollar bill, and Jack handed back his change with a large, yellow envelope. The barista barely looked at him, as if it was the most normal thing in the world he was doing. Indy took the envelope, stuffed it straight into his backpack.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Sure thing, Rose. Your coffee will be a minute.”
It was tempting to walk out since he had no intention of drinking the damn coffee, but he didn’t. That would arouse suspicion, and everything had to look completely normal. He never looked back at Jack, simply waited for his order to be called out. Two minutes later, he was back outside. He held on to his coffee until he was four blocks away and certain no one was watching him. Only then did he dump it in a trashcan.
He circled back to Penn Station, took the train again to Jersey. As soon as he had returned to his motel, he opened the package. An Ohio driver’s license in the name of Laura Downey tumbled out. It was the same picture as he’d used for his Indiana Baldwin one, with his curls and the blue contacts, wearing tasteful makeup. He’d debated using a complete disguise—much like he was wearing now—but it was too cumbersome to keep up. Wigs could sag, be too obvious. Plus, it was hard to keep that disguise up perfectly, all the time. This way, he had more flexibility, could disguise when he wanted to but still use the license. In the unlikely event a cop did pull him over, he could simply say he liked wearing wigs.
There was also a high school diploma from Neil Alden Armstrong High School in Columbus, Ohio. A quick Google search taught him Neil Armstrong was from Ohio. That made sense, then.
Laura Downey.
He rolled the name on his tongue. It was boring, nondescriptive. Exactly what he needed. He’d be sad to leave Indy behind, though. He picked that name himself. Indiana after Indiana Jones, obviously. Indy had been secretly fascinated with the man who was smart, inventive, and sexy all in one.
At first, he’d chosen MacGyver as his last name, after another hero of his. The show had been from way before his time, but he’d watched every episode. It was cheesy, but he loved it. Had learned tons, too. But he’d decided the combination of two well-known names would stand out too much, so he’d randomly picked a last name by pointing a finger at a list of names in an ad for a legal firm. Baldwin, it was.
He studied the driver’s license from every side. He didn’t know what Ohio licenses looked like, but like his previous Georgia one, it appeared legit. Now all he had to do was sell his car, buy a new one, and register it to Laura Downey. He’d have to decide where to go first as he’d need to register it in the state he would be staying in.
Indy laid down on the bed, flat on his back. Was he really gonna walk away from Noah, from Josh, from all of it? Could he?
Sooner or later, you’ll have to. You know this can’t last. Sure, Noah will miss you at first, but it will be better for him in the long run. Kinder. You have nothing to offer him. A relationship with a guy who’s on the run, who you can never publicly claim, what kind of future is that for him? Plus, your very presence endangers Noah and Josh, even Connor.
A man like Noah deserved more. Better. If he broke it off now, Noah would be okay after a spell. The longer he waited, the harder it would get. But the thought of leaving Noah, of never seeing him and Josh again… Indy’s throat tightened, and swallowing was painful. These three days without him had been hell. Indy hadn’t realized how much he’d come to depend on Noah’s strength, his care. Between him and Josh, Indy had felt loved and taken care of. That first night at the motel, he hadn’t even been able to fall asleep in the empty bed, used as he’d gotten to sleeping between the two men.
He hadn’t thought it was possible in such a short time to get that attached to someone, but his aching heart was proof. God, he loved him so fucking much. He missed him with a physical pain he’d never experienced before. And Josh. He missed being part of their unit, a family.
Hell, he even missed Connor. The man had such a stabilizing effect on Josh, much like Noah, only deeper somehow. Those two were a perfect match if he’d ever seen one. If only he knew for certain he could trust the cop. That would at least eliminate one obstacle.
There was no way he was contacting the DA. If they were monitoring Merrick, he’d be dead. You could change a lot of things, but changing a voice was hard. He could fake an accent, but the chances of someone recognizing his voice were too high. No, he’d have to find another way. Maybe Connor could contact Merrick. As long as he didn’t mention Stephan, that would not raise suspicion, right? He could simply ask the DA to vouch for him, maybe spin a story about a job or something.
How would he get a message to Connor? He couldn’t call him, definitely not directly. If the cop was crooked—though Indy doubted it after what he’d seen from him—he’d sign his death warrant. And if he wasn’t, Indy wasn’t ready for the questions, the accusations even. Surely they had to be pissed he’d taken off.
No, they won’t be.
The thought popped into his head, crystal clear. Josh wouldn’t be mad at him. He’d understand. He’d know it had gotten to be too much. Hell, no one knew better about overloads of stress than Josh. Josh wouldn’t get angry. He would plead with Indy to come home. As a matter of fact, he was probably already looking for him, though low-key. Where would he look?
Suddenly, the answer was clear, easy. Professor Kent. There was no way Josh would not look for him there. All he had to do was get a message to Connor through Kent. The only thing Indy wasn’t sure of was how long it would take Josh to get there. Noah’s surgery and everything that had happened could’ve negatively affected Josh's PTSD. For all Indy knew, Josh could be practically out of order. Still, his gut said Connor wouldn’t let that happen, that he would find a way to keep Josh safe and healthy. No matter the doubts surrounding Connor, the man’s love for Josh was hard to miss.
Like Noah’s love for you.
There were times when Noah looked at him with so much love, it would take his breath away. He still couldn’t comprehend what had happened, how it was possible that this wonderful man had fallen in love with him. But he had. Noah loved him.
It wasn’t always easy for Indy to remember that, especially when his fight or flight took over, like in the car. Or when he was emotionally hurting, like after Noah had lashed out at him. When he was that stressed or emotional, he wasn’t capable of reminding himself Noah loved him. It was like he’d short-circuit, somehow.
But afterward, he knew. Noah
had apologized profusely, and Indy had seen his sincerity. He’d forgiven, easily. That’s what you did when you loved someone. Because he loved Noah, too. There wasn’t a sliver of doubt anymore. What he felt for Noah was so big, so deep, that he couldn’t deny it. Surely Noah had to know how much Indy loved him, too.
Does he? Will he, after the way you left him?
His heart cramped in sudden distress. What if Noah thought he’d left him for another reason? What if Noah thought he was at fault because of his temper, or their row over the sex and everything else?
No, no, no. Oh, God, will he blame himself?
He’d see every reason to. Noah didn’t know why Indy had run. He couldn’t do this to him. Not right now, not while he was recuperating from that infection. He had to go. He had to see with his own eyes that Noah was okay, and he damn well had to make sure Noah knew he loved him. Even if he did have no other choice but to ultimately leave him, he couldn’t do it like this. Not without saying goodbye. Noah deserved at least that much.
Indy left his old identity papers in the motel, hidden behind an air vent. If for some reason he’d get arrested, he did not want to get caught with two sets of papers.
He shouldn’t take his own car. If he had been made, somehow, he’d be too easy to spot. No, he needed to rent a car, using his new ID. That wouldn’t trigger any alarms.
He drove to Newark airport, parked his car in a long-term parking lot close to the airport and took the provided shuttle bus to the terminals. Half an hour later, he drove out with a silver Honda Civic—the most boring car ever.
He didn’t even try to find out about visiting hours and shit. If there was one thing he had learned in the last year, it was that people didn’t question who you were and what you were doing as long as you looked like you knew where you were going. If you looked legit, went about your way with confidence, nobody batted an eye. Indy had called ahead to the hospital to find out Noah’s floor and room number and walked straight in.