by Andrew Grey
Tim was the one who answered. “We didn’t mean to insinuate that you’d take advantage of him. It’s just that we don’t know you very well, and both of us tend to look out for him.” Tim tugged at his collar, and Marti had the grace to blush a little.
“Okay,” James said, and Zack climbed off his lap. “Can you lead me to your mom?” James took Zack’s hand, and he led him through the living room to where they were sitting. “You were a big help. Thank you.”
“Mom, Uncle Jimmy read me stories from the bumpy books.” Zack jumped up and down, clearly excited, and Tim lifted him onto his lap.
“The chicken smells good,” James said.
“Did Joyce teach you how to cook?” Trevor asked Marti, and both she and James laughed.
“God, no. My mother could burn water. Tim’s mother taught me how to cook once Tim and I were engaged. She spent a lot of time with me, and I found I love cooking and I’m good at it.”
“That’s good to know.”
“When Mom has a dinner party, she hires a personal chef to cook for it and stays out of the kitchen, which is otherwise largely unused. Meals for her and Dad are prepared by the same personal chef, and more likely than not, Dad’s the one who does the reheating and preparation. Mom is a complete menace in the kitchen.” She reached across to James, patting his arm. “Do you remember the time she decided she was going to bake you a birthday cake?”
“I asked for one from the Shorewood Bakery, but Mom decided she was going to bake one herself.” James looked completely sheepish. It was adorable.
“The cake was a total of two inches high and like a rock. We were lucky we didn’t break any teeth. And she went out and got store-bought frosting to put on it. James had no idea how ugly this thing was.” She laughed, and Zack did as well to get in on the act. “Dad took one look at it and went right out to buy him a proper cake. He ended up getting one from a grocery store, but it was way better than Mom’s. Thankfully that was the end of her baking.”
“I don’t remember too much of that.”
“Because Dad tried to keep it from you as much as he could. You know Dad. He lets Mom do most things, but then steps in to clean up her mess when he has to.” Marti got up, put on oven mitts, and opened the oven door. The scent of chicken filled the room, and Trevor’s stomach rumbled loudly.
“I take it you’re hungry,” James said before rubbing Trevor’s belly. “I told you her chicken was the best there is. I don’t know how she does it, but she always gets crispy skin, lots of flavor, and juicy chicken on the inside.”
“I made extra drumsticks for you and Zack.” Marti pulled the pan out of the oven, then closed the door and set the pan on the stove. She got busy, and Tim shifted Zack onto James’s lap to pitch in to help her.
“I always just stay out of the way,” Trevor said.
“Then maybe you should learn to cook. We could bake cookies together or something like that,” James said.
Marti scoffed. “Please. He and I tried that and ended up making a huge mess and got lumps of coal out of it. Of course, that could have been when I was sixteen and thought I took after Mom.”
“If I remember right, you ended up throwing the pan away along with the burned cookies.” James could give as well as he got. “They smelled awful.” He made faces, and Zack giggled—probably a game they played pretty often.
“But dinner certainly doesn’t.” Marti started something in the microwave and brought a huge salad to the table. She also brought dressing, and Zack squirmed to get down.
“Big-boy chair.” He climbed into the chair next to Tim with a booster seat in it and then turned around with his plastic knife and fork, watching Marti expectantly. “I’m hungry.”
“I know, honey, and I have chicken for you.” She set a blue plastic plate in front of Zack, and he started eating quickly. Marti brought the chicken and a bowl of mixed vegetables to the table, while Tim brought plates and silverware. Trevor fixed James a plate and quietly explained where everything was for him.
“Can I pick up the chicken leg with my fingers?”
“Yes,” Trevor answered. “I don’t think Marti will mind.” Chicken legs were finger food as far as Trevor was concerned, and he didn’t really understand the question, but he seemed to have given James the answer he needed.
“Mom always thought that we should eat with a knife and fork. There was no finger food in our house,” Marti explained as she pulled apart a chicken wing.
“This is really good.” James took another bite of his chicken, eating ravenously.
Trevor wondered if James really got enough to eat all the time. “Maybe you could show me how to make it for him,” he offered.
Marti seemed surprised, but James grinned, nodding vigorously. If they were going to be together, then it would be up to Trevor to do the cooking, and he needed to learn to be a better cook.
“Jimmy never eats enough.”
“I do too.” James set the chicken bone on his plate, and Trevor added another piece for him.
“I understand someone just had a birthday,” Trevor said to Zack, who nodded.
“I got bumpy books.” He grinned and took another bite. Then he slid down, raced out of the room, and returned with one of the books, handing it to Trevor.
“Sit and finish eating. You can play afterward, and if you’re good, Uncle Jimmy will read you another story before bedtime.” Marti was gentle and firm at the same time. It was a great combination, and Zack set the book on the corner of the table and got back into his chair.
The dinner conversation was light and Trevor had the best time. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but Marti and Tim were amazing people. Marti stayed home to raise Zack, and Tim was starting his own software consulting firm. They were interesting and fun people who cared about James a great deal.
Once they were all full to the gills, Tim cleared the table and took care of the dishes while Marti guided them into the living room. Zack crawled onto James’s lap as soon as he sat down, conning him into reading another bumpy book.
“How many Braille books does Zack have?” Trevor asked Marti.
“Every one we can find. There are enough things that James can’t do with Zack that we wanted to make sure there was something special for them to do together, so I began buying the books as soon as Zack was born, and Jimmy’s added to the collection. Zack loves them because he only gets to hear those stories from Uncle Jimmy.”
Trevor could understand that, and he half listened as James read the story. He loved hearing him and was as enthralled with James as Zack was with the story. When it ended, Zack asked James to read it again.
“How about you play with your Legos for a while?” Marti suggested, and Zack hurried off with the book, then returned with a canister that he dumped on the floor. James slid out of the chair and onto the floor so he could play with Zack. Trevor did the same, sitting next to James.
“The blocks are right in front of you,” Trevor whispered as James leaned to the side to pull a red block out from under his butt.
“You play too,” Zack said, and for the next hour, he, James, and Zack built towers and knocked them down, Zack’s laughter ringing through the house.
“Put the toys away. It’s almost time for bed.” Marti sat down, and Zack began putting his blocks away. Trevor helped him and put the lid on the container. “Say good night.”
Zack threw himself at James, hugging him tightly. He hugged Trevor as well, and then Marti took his hand and left the room.
“We should go too,” James said as he got to his feet.
Trevor guided him back to the chair, avoiding errant Legos. He made sure they were all cleared away before letting James get up again. They said good-bye to Tim, and Marti came down in time to see them off, with James and her sharing a hug before they left.
“I like your sister,” Trevor said as they reached the car.
“She’s something else.”
“So is Zack.” Trevor opened the car door and hel
ped James inside.
“He’s my buddy. We always do things together.” James closed the car door, and Trevor went around to the other side, got in, and started the engine.
“You have quite a family.” Trevor thought about those he’d met so far. “What’s your dad like?”
“I think I take after him. Dad works hard, always has. He’s a bit of a workaholic, and I think Mom resents that sometimes. But he was a good father. He used to take me to baseball games in the summer. Even after I lost my sight, he and I went together. I’d listen to the crowd and people, and Dad would set me up with a radio station I could listen to so I’d know what was happening. The energy of the crowd, the excitement, it all added to what I was hearing, and Dad…. It was the two of us, our time together.”
“What happened?” Trevor asked at the hint of sadness that crept into James’s voice.
“I grew up and developed other interests. Dad got promoted to head of the company he works for and had less time. It was one of those things that happens, I guess. It happens a lot, I think. My life is so different from his. He’s high-powered, and I tend to go slower through life. I love my dad, but we don’t have a lot in common any longer.”
“I see.”
“Maybe that’s my fault.” James shifted nervously in the seat as Trevor pulled up in front of James’s house.
“Sometimes things happen that are no one’s fault.” Trevor turned off the engine, and after getting out, helped James up the walk and into the house. “I want to thank you for tonight. It was amazingly fun.”
“Are you leaving?”
“I need to get up early in the morning and go into work. I don’t want to disturb you.” Trevor said as James came closer, putting his hands on his chest and then sliding them around Trevor’s neck.
“You won’t disturb me.” James closed the distance between them, finding Trevor’s lips with a fervor Trevor had never experienced before.
He closed his arms around James, holding him tightly. He never wanted to let James go… ever. James was his. He knew that just as innately as he knew how to breathe, but didn’t want to part from James for a second. He guided him through the house toward the bedroom.
“Trevor… I….”
“What is it?” He smoothed the hair off James’s forehead.
“It’s… I haven’t….” James turned away, and Trevor gently touched his chin.
“Just say what you want to say.”
“I’ve never done… you know… that before.” James quivered like a leaf in the wind.
“Okay. You’re going to have to help me.” Trevor wasn’t sure what James was trying to say, but he held him closer, needing to comfort him.
“Trevor, I’ve never had…. Collin and I didn’t… He didn’t like it, so we never….” He stammered something terrible, and finally the light came on for Trevor.
“Are you saying you’ve never had anal sex?”
James nodded his head and buried his face against Trevor’s chest. “Yes.”
“Sweetheart, are you telling me that you want me to be your first?” The thought was thrilling to say the least. “That’s nothing to worry about.”
“But what if I’m not any good at it?” James asked. “Collin used to tell me that I was a dud in bed, and he….” James was near tears.
“You need to forget everything Collin ever told you. Collin was an ass, and you are amazing at everything you do—reading to Zack, helping me, making love.” Trevor slotted his lips over James’s. He needed to push away his bad feeling. “You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and I love you.” Trevor’s insides did a little flip as he uttered words he’d only said to one other man, words he never thought he’d say again.
“You love me?”
“Yes, and I will forever.” Trevor held James tightly, hopefully reassuring both of them as his knees threatened to buckle.
“But….” James stammered again, and a chill ran though Trevor. What if James didn’t feel the same way and he’d completely misread everything? “How can you? I mean, I’ve been in love with you for a while, but I didn’t expect you to say the words…. I never thought I’d hear those words. Will you show me what I’ve been missing?” James kissed him even harder, energy pouring off him.
“Are you sure this is what you want? There are plenty of things that we can do together. This isn’t something we need to rush into.” Trevor lightly rubbed James’s back through his shirt.
“But isn’t it what you want?” James asked. “I figured that….”
Trevor had been afraid of this. “Sex and whatever we do in bed has to be what we both want. It isn’t about me or you—it’s about us. So you need to be comfortable and ready.” Trevor guided James through the house to the bathroom. He started the water, and as it warmed, gently stripped James of his clothes and got him under the water.
“What’s this for?” James asked.
Trevor undressed quickly and joined him. He pressed himself to James’s back, kissing his wet shoulder, reaching for the soap. He washed James thoroughly. James moaned as Trevor washed his buttcheeks, skimming his fingers down his crack. “Feel good?” Trevor whispered into James’s ear before sucking on it. “Do you like that?”
“Yeah.”
“How about this?” He trailed his hands along James’s shoulders, following the path his lips had taken moments before. “I know you’re going to like this.” Trevor kneaded James’s buttcheeks, spreading them as he knelt behind him, kissing the firm globes. James quivered and reached for the wall as Trevor teased his fingers down James’s crease, rubbing his opening.
Trevor had never been one to sing in the shower, but James’s groan was music to his ears, and that music intensified, growing in urgency as the seconds passed and Trevor licked his way over James’s perfect butt and down to his perfect little opening.
“What are you doing?” James panted, legs shaking as Trevor circled his hole with his tongue, tasting, listening as James’s cries bounced off the tile walls, with Trevor’s face buried between his sweet cheeks. After a while, when the water began to cool, he turned it off, lifted James out of the tub, and carried him out of the bathroom, dripping, through the house to the bed. He was too far gone to care, and James held him tight.
When Trevor laid James on the bed, he rolled him onto his belly and once again feasted as James writhed and shook on top of the duvet until he screamed loud enough to nearly rattle the windows.
James lay still, mewling softly. “I made a mess.” He didn’t sound sorry about it for an instant.
“Are you happy?” Trevor asked, and James slowly rolled over, a grin on his face a mile wide.
“Yes, and my mother didn’t interrupt.” He sat up and reached out. Trevor moved into his arms so James could pull him down on top. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll….” James stopped. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say you’re not the only one to make a mess.” Trevor chuckled and rolled them both on their sides, holding James as close as possible. “I don’t ever want to let you go, and I’m not going to for the rest of the night. So you just let me clean things up a little, and then I’m going to hold you all night long. And maybe, if you wake up in the middle of the night, I’ll have something to really wake you up.”
There was nothing more to say at the moment.
TREVOR LEFT in the morning after loving on James in the middle of the night when a storm rolled through. He used its energy to make James scream as thunder rolled around the house. He hated to leave when the time came, and after kissing James gently, he tucked him under the covers, dressed, and left the house. Trevor went home to change before going out to the Brown Deer garage.
He expected quiet for the first part of the morning, but he didn’t expect Alan sitting in his car outside the shop when he drove up. At least, he recognized Alan’s car. Someone was inside, but it wasn’t until Alan got out and staggered up to where Trevor had parked that he actually recognized him. He understood instantly what
Brent had been trying to describe to him. To say he looked like hell was an understatement. He definitely hadn’t bathed in days, looked like he’d been wearing the same clothes for at least as long, and his skin was sallow, his eyes unfocused.
“What are you doing here?” Trevor demanded. “You steal from me and then have the guts to show your face here? I suggest you leave now before I call the police and have you arrested again.”
“I don’t know where else to go, man,” Alan said. “We’ve known each other… for a long time.”
“And all that ended when you nearly robbed me into the poorhouse. Did you think I was just going to forget all that because I helped you, promoted you, trusted you, and then you shit on me?” Trevor’s hands clenched into fists. He was too angry for words, seeing only red. He pulled out his phone, showing it to Alan, and then making a call.
“You can’t do that, man!” Alan raced toward him, but Trevor sidestepped him and made the call. It connected as Alan scrambled to his feet and stumbled back to the car. “I know things.” He glared at Trevor. “You should have helped me.” He got in and pulled out of the lot, nearly hitting another car as he swerved onto the road, horns blaring.
Trevor explained why he was calling once he got someone, telling them how Alan was driving. “He’s definitely under the influence of something and heading east on Brown Deer Road toward 43. He needs help.” That was all the grace Trevor could find for Alan. He provided the information he could. They promised to let him know if they needed anything and ended the call.
Trevor opened the shop, trying to focus, but his mind was elsewhere. Damn Alan for interrupting what could have been a wonderful morning. Trevor locked the doors while he was inside just in case and worked until he heard the guys arriving.
The morning was filled with appointments and some repairs left from the day before, so Trevor changed into the work clothes he kept in his trunk, rolled up his sleeves, and spent the morning under the hood of a car, helping them catch up.