Resilience

by Tymber Dalton

  Tom stared around the room. No TV, but lots of books on two walls, and some pictures. And a small vase.

  No…

  He walked over to it, where it sat on the end of a dresser. Round and brushed grey metal, not even a foot tall, it wasn’t a vase.

  It was an urn.

  Hello, Jean-Claude.

  “Tommy?”

  “What? Sorry, I got distracted.”

  “How’s your pain?”

  “I’m hurting. Not gonna lie to you, baby girl. Hurts like a motherfucker.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “I should be there with you two.”

  “My leg would still be hurting whether or not you were here.”

  “You know what I mean. At least you could both lean on me.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “I have to admit I felt sorry for the guy.”

  “Marcus?”

  “Yeah. They discovered his cancer four years ago, the lawyer said. Marcus refused treatment even though they might have cured him. It was colon cancer.”

  “What? Why? Why would someone…” She fell silent. “Oh.”

  “Exactly. Apparently, he wanted to die.”

  “Well, at least he’s with Jean-Claude now.”

  “Oh, this is freaky. Check this out. Right before he died, it was like Marcus was talking to someone we couldn’t see. Like a ghost or something.”

  “He was?”

  “Yeah. Spooky. I think he saw Jean-Claude. Said he had to go with ‘him.’”

  “Well, considering the stuff I’ve seen every time we go visit Sarah, Del, and John, I don’t doubt there’s stuff out there we don’t know about. Adam, Mikey, Willow, and Zoey all saw the ghost of that little boy at their place when they were kids.”

  “I know.” He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out again as he looked around. “I’ll take some pictures in the morning and send them to you. It’s not a bad apartment.”

  “How long do you think you’ll be over there?”

  “I don’t know. However long it takes to get this stuff done, and I don’t want to rush Ty. You know how he gets when he struggles with something.”

  “Take however long you need. I’ll hold down the fort here. Just keep me posted. Love you. Tell him I love him, too.”

  “Will do. Love you, too, baby girl.”

  He took a moment to use the master bathroom. Even this was tastefully decorated but homey, in a way. Lived in.

  I wonder if it was this clean when he was alive, though.

  Goossens had told them the bedding had all been washed and changed. It was like staying at an Airbnb or something, except they owned it.

  Maybe that’s something we can do with it. Let it generate some income for us.

  After Tom washed his hands, he looked in the medicine cabinet. No old prescription medication, but there were things like ibuprofen, dental floss, cologne, and mouthwash. When he looked under the sink, a bark of laughter escaped him.

  Rolls of toilet paper, some towels, a tube of lube…and a butt plug.

  That will get tossed.

  First he wanted Tyler to see it, though. Maybe worth a laugh, at least.

  There were still clothes in the dresser and closet. All of that stuff to deal with. Hopefully, a charity would want it. He realized there was a lot to deal with here.

  A lot.

  Not just physically, but emotionally, and he wasn’t sure Ty was up to handling any of it yet.

  Maybe we can clean out the fridge when we go and let it all sit for a few months until Nevvie can come back with us to help.

  Tyler had a work schedule to keep to if he wanted to make his deadlines. Being retired, Tom was the lucky one of the three of them, although he did consulting work for the firm in Tampa from time to time. Nevvie had to deal with the kids and the business end of Tyler’s work.

  On one bedside table sat a picture of Marcus with another man, and Tom picked it up to study it. A much younger Marcus than the one who’d just taken his last breath not too long ago. The other man, with his dark hair and ice-blue eyes, could have been a relative of Tyler’s in some ways.

  Jean-Claude, I presume?

  He set the picture back on the table.

  He moved their bags from the entryway to the bedroom and took a moment to unpack their shower kits. With that done, he finally returned to the living room. Tyler stood staring at pictures on the wall and looked…lost.

  Walking over to him, Tom wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing the back of his neck. “You okay, buddy?”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”

  “You feel what you feel.” Tom looked at one of the collage frames. “Is that Jean-Claude with him?”

  “I believe so. There are many, many pictures of them together. I can’t imagine who it would be if not him.”

  “Well, I found Jean-Claude. He’s in the bedroom, just like Marcus said he was.”

  A soft snort escaped Tyler.

  Tom turned him in his arms. “How about some food, and then a hot shower and bed, okay?”

  Tyler nodded.

  Tom was going to cook for him, but Tyler, thankfully, took the lead, meaning Tom could sit on one of the barstools at the counter and watch him cook. As night fell, Tyler went through the items in the fridge and prepared them a frittata for dinner, a salad to go with it, and slices of fresh, crusty bread.

  They ate in silence at the counter, Tyler barely picking at his food, Tom having to wheedle him to eat.

  “What if I’d made more of an effort to keep in touch with him?” Tyler finally said.

  Tom put down his fork, turned, and made Tyler face him. “Stop. I’m going to put my foot down, buddy. Marcus made his choices. You are not responsible for those choices. You barely knew him, no matter how intimate things got between you. Hell, I dated that girl in high school, Alicia Smith, and slept with her for a helluva lot longer than you spent with Marcus. Should I be holding myself responsible for the fact that after I broke up with her she got knocked up by some guy in college, dropped out, and had three more kids by three more men?”

  Tyler stared at him, his blue eyes full of pain. “No,” he finally whispered.

  “Exactly. No. I understand this is complicated and not an easy thing. But don’t be asking for trouble that’s not yours to carry.”

  Tyler finally nodded and started eating again.

  Chapter Eight

  After dinner, Tom took over cleaning the kitchen, although Tyler insisted on helping. When they finished, Tom couldn’t help but see how exhausted Tyler looked.

  “Ready to go to bed, buddy?” Tom asked.

  Tyler nodded.

  Tom draped an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go take a shower and get some sleep.”

  Ty simply nodded.

  As they left the kitchen, Tom started turning off lights and lamps, pulling the drapes shut and checking that windows and the door to the balcony were locked.

  “What was in the envelope?” he asked Ty.

  “I haven’t even opened it yet.” He retrieved it and the keys from where he’d left them on the sofa. “I suppose I should do that.”

  Tom walked over and took them from him. “Shower, bed.” He knew what would happen if he let Ty get a look at the envelope’s contents now. Whatever it was might likely consume Ty’s entire night and prevent him from getting any sleep.

  As they headed down the hall, Tyler stopped in front of the office door and stared inside for a moment before stepping into the room. He hadn’t made it this far yet. The desk was positioned to face the windows, looking out over the park next door. More bookshelves lined the two walls perpendicular to the windows and door, which lay opposite each other. On the desk sat a laptop computer, closed and unplugged. Tom presumed the short code on the sticky note on top was the login password.

  While Tyler examined the books, Tom went to check that the room’s windows were locked. When he heard Ty gasp, he turned. Tea
rs rolled down Tyler’s cheeks, one hand held to his mouth, his eyes wide.

  Tom dropped the keys and envelope onto the desk and hurried over to him, wrapping his arms around him. “What, buddy? What’s wrong?”

  Apparently beyond speech, Ty could only point.

  Tom shifted position, still holding Ty, so he could look at the books.

  Copies of every one of Tyler’s books sat there, except for the one that had just released. The hardcovers were pristine, looking like the spines had never been cracked, while the paperbacks were well-worn, obviously read many, many times. Read far more than most of the paperbacks Tom had seen on the shelves thus far. Marcus even had two or three copies of some of the titles in paperback, various printings that had different covers.

  Tom sighed and turned Ty from the shelves, pressing Ty’s face against his shoulder. “It’s all right, buddy,” he softly said. “Let’s deal with this tomorrow, okay?”

  Tyler nodded, still crying.

  Tom snagged the keys and envelope and turned off the corner and desk lamps before leading Tyler out and down the hallway to the bedroom. He left the keys and envelope on the dresser, along with his own wallet and the contents of his pockets.

  Tyler sat on the end of the bed and looked around, his gaze locking on the urn.

  Dammit.

  Tom knew he should have moved it out of there, but he hadn’t gotten around to it.

  He checked the windows and the door to the balcony and pulled the curtains. It was full dark outside now, and there was something slightly unnerving about the strange reflections against black glass staring back at them.

  He sat next to Tyler and took his hands, squeezing them. “Nevvie said as long as we need, that’s how long we’ll take. No rush. If you need a couple of days, or you need a couple of weeks, we’ll take it.”

  Okay, that was slightly fudging, but it was mostly the truth. It wouldn’t be fair to Nevvie, but he knew their guy and knew she’d agree with him. Tyler would emotionally eviscerate himself if they tried to rush this process.

  Thank god they’d arrived before Marcus had died.

  Thank god Nevvie had driven him to Atlanta to the airport so they could make the evening flight.

  If Tyler hadn’t made it, hadn’t had a chance to make final peace with the man, it would have eaten at him.

  It still might.

  Tyler nodded, but didn’t speak.

  Tom hadn’t taken a pain pill yet, wanting to wait until bedtime. So he stood and started unbuttoning Tyler’s shirt, realizing how completely shattered his guy was, pushed to the farthest limit of his ability to deal.

  Maybe not to the extent of some of the things they’d dealt with in the past, but right up there in the top ten, for sure.

  Once he had Tyler’s shirt unbuttoned, he pulled the tails loose and worked it off him, followed by his undershirt. Despite it killing his leg, he knelt and got Ty’s shoes and socks off him.

  Tyler’s distant stare unnerved Tom, but he didn’t try to make him talk. After two weeks away from home, stressful enough, then this.

  Ty needed time and TLC, and he’d give them both to his guy.

  Tom slowly climbed to his feet and started undressing, getting himself naked before taking Tyler’s hands and gently coaxing him to his feet. He unfastened Tyler’s belt and jeans, pulling them and his briefs down.

  “Come on, buddy,” Tom said, taking him by the hand and leading him into the bathroom. “Shower time.” He coaxed him into the shower.

  Tom held Tyler under the spray, finally breathing a sigh of relief when Tyler’s arms enveloped him. Tyler pressed his face against Tom’s chest and cried, heaving sobs. Heart-wrenching. Visceral.

  Tom lifted one hand to the back of Ty’s head and threaded his fingers in the man’s hair. He nuzzled the top of his head, not speaking, knowing his guy needed to get through this first.

  When Ty was ready to talk, he would. Until then, all Tom could do was let Tyler deal with this.

  At least the hot water helped ease Tom’s aching muscles somewhat. He stood there with Tyler until the other man finally pulled himself together enough to step back, a forced smile on his face. He grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing Tom’s back for him without comment.

  They didn’t need to talk. After thirty-plus years together, there were times when words weren’t necessary. Especially times like now. Tom scrubbed Tyler’s back for him. By the time they ran out of hot water, they were ready to get out and dry off.

  Tyler headed to bed while Tom took a pain pill. When Tom joined him in bed, Tyler rolled into his arms. This many years later, the man still felt perfect nestled there.

  He kissed the top of Tyler’s head. “I love you, buddy.”

  Ty sighed. “I love you, too, sweet.” He tipped his head back and stared at Tom. Even in the dim light from a nightlight out in the hall, Tom still felt mesmerized by Tyler’s blue eyes.

  They stared at each other for a long, quiet moment before Tom slanted his lips over Tyler’s, gently kissing him. As Ty’s breath quickened, he felt Ty’s cock start to stiffen against him. Tom fisted Tyler’s hair, deepening their kiss, reminding his guy who loved him and always had, from the very start.

  Reminding him who’d never played him, never left him, who’d always put Ty first—other than that brief moment of stupidity Tom had during his recovery from the accident.

  Tonight, in this apartment they now owned, the ghost of a man who’d haunted Tyler’s soul from before they’d met had since passed. Tyler rolled on top of him, rocking his hips against Tom’s and softly moaning.

  Fuck it. Tom’s cock, despite the pain in his leg, wanted in on the action. Especially since it’d been over two weeks since he’d had solid alone-alone time with his guy.

  He pulled Tyler’s head up, breaking their kiss. “Get the lube out of my bag, sugar.”

  Tyler jumped out of bed. Whenever they traveled, they always kept it in the same place, safely stored in a zipper top bag so it wouldn’t leak all over if it opened.

  He quickly brought it back, and a towel, lubing Tommy’s cock and his own ass. Then he straddled Tom again and impaled himself on Tommy’s cock.

  Tom’s hands settled on Ty’s hips as a low hiss escaped Tom. “Dammit, I missed you,” he whispered. “It’s fuckin’ lonely without you in bed with us.”

  Tight, warm heat fisted Tommy’s cock. Ty leaned in and kissed him, hard and deep. “Missed you, too, sweet.” He sucked on Tom’s lower lip. “Missed having this lovely cock of yours right where it belongs, too.”

  “You sweet talkin’ thang, you.”

  “After all these years, you still want me?”

  Tom reached up, cupped the back of Ty’s head, and pulled him in for another crushing kiss. He loved the feel of Ty’s goatee brushing against his flesh. In all the years they’d been together, Tyler had never gone through a facial hair phase before.

  Tom was starting to love it, even though he’d been dubious at first when Nevvie had talked him into growing it.

  It did give Ty a kind of sexy supervillain vibe Tom was really starting to dig. Like the Master from Doctor Who.

  Tyler rested his forehead against Tom’s as he took a long, slow stroke.

  “Ride me, baby,” Tom said. “You know who owns that ass, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Tom held him tighter, wishing his leg didn’t hurt like fuck or he’d flip him onto his back and pound his cock into Ty and really show him. Maybe they weren’t as frisky as they had been when they were young, but they still had their moments.

  And it had been two weeks since he’d seen Tyler off from the Savannah airport with a load of his cum in Ty’s ass.

  A little reminder he’d put there early that morning while in the shower together.

  “That’s right,” Tom said, now knowing exactly what his guy needed from him in that moment. He kept a grip on the back of Ty’s head and snaked his other hand between them, fingers curling around Tyler’s cock, which wa
s hard. “That’s my ass, and this is my cock, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Take that, Marcus.

  Fuck it. He knew he’d pay for this in the morning, but he rolled Ty over onto his back, grabbing his legs and throwing them over his shoulders, hoping his own cock stayed hard long enough to get the job done despite his pain.

  The ultimate revenge. To fuck the love of his life in the bed of a man who never got to have more than a few days with him.

  A man who’d died regretting that fact, that he’d let Ty slip away. Worse, that he’d turned around and walked away from Tyler.

  Living well to the Nth degree, and all that crap.

  Tom grabbed Ty’s hands and laced fingers with him, pinning them over Ty’s head as Tom long-stroked his cock in his ass. Between them, Ty’s cock rubbed against Tom’s abs and Ty’s, gaining traction there.

  “No more long trips like that, mister,” Tom said. “Not without at least one of us with you. Someone’s gotta take care of my guy.”

  Tyler’s expression softened, eyes half-lidded, lips parted. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get comfy, buddy. Imma gonna fuck this sweet ass until you come for me just like this.”

  Or until my leg gives out.

  But he didn’t say that.

  Duh.

  * * * *

  Tom squeezed Tyler’s hands as he pinned Tyler to the bed. In this ocean of emotional shit Tyler currently floundered in, leave it to Tom to rescue him, haul him safely aboard this sweet, perfect raft.

  His life had always been Tom, always would be. Him and Nevvie both, but Tom first.

  And damn, he wanted to try to come for him. He could rock his hips a little like this, but not much. His cock rubbed between their bodies, though, and combined with Tom’s slow, deliberate thrusts, he felt himself drawing closer.

  Tom stared down at him with those brown eyes of his, dark in the dim room, deep, endless. Pulling him in, holding him there, even if he wasn’t physically restrained he would still stay there.

  It was the only place he wanted to be.

  Not just Tom, but what Tom represented—home. A perfect love.

  Wherever he or Nevvie were, that’s where Tyler’s home lay.