by J. K. Hogan
Nic was pretty sure he growled at that. Okay, he was jealous, so the fuck what? Justice turned back to him, eyes suddenly full of heat. Nic licked his dry lips while he stared at Justice’s. They probably shouldn’t start making out in the middle of the fish market tourist crowd.
He pulled on Justice’s hand to indicate that they should start moving. “Come on,” he said, rather gruffly. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
Justice gave him a knowing smile before following him back to the less crowded sidewalk. “Sounds good,” he said with a wink.
Nic’s favorite bar, Seatown Seabar, was just three blocks away, so he decided to take Justice there. They could get good food and have a couple of drinks in the same place.
The building was small and inside, it was basically all bar. They each took a seat on a barstool and gave one another shy smiles as they waited for the waitress. Justice caught sight of her and poked his lower lip out.
“Aw, bless her heart.”
Nic laughed at the cute Southern colloquialism. “What?”
Justice nodded at the harried waitress-slash-barmaid who was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to pull off the same rockabilly look that Samara wore so well.
“She’s not as cute as she thinks she is.”
Nic barked out a laugh, startled by the snarky remark that was so out of character from what he’d seen from Justice so far. Although, he had noticed that the guy didn’t have much of a filter.
“Why, Mr. Crawford, how very catty of you.”
Justice just shrugged and looked down at the menu, but Nic didn’t miss the subtle quirk of his lips. “What can I say? Bitch has claws.”
Before he could say anything else, Miss Trying-too-hard herself grudgingly made it over to their area of the bar. “Are you ready to order?” she asked, as if she didn’t have enough time in her day to deal with them.
Justice gave her a smile that could cut glass, before handing her his menu. “I’ll have the seafood chowder.”
Nic gave him a dubious glance and asked, “Are you sure?”
“’Course! Clam chowder is my favorite back home.”
Nic snorted, because west coast chowder was so not the same thing, but he decided to let Justice figure it out on his own. It’d be funnier that way.
The waitress turned to him and raised her badly drawn eyebrow at him. Guess that meant it was his turn. “I’ll have a meatball sub.”
Justice laughed, and Nic couldn’t help the warmth that flowed through his body as the rich timbre of the sound punched him in the gut.
“You take me to a seabar and order a meatball sub?”
Nic shrugged, still too entranced by Justice to give an intelligent answer. “Like ‘em,” he grunted. He finally cleared his head long enough to get a good sense of Justice’s mood. He wasn’t throwing off a lot of nervous energy as he usually was. Nic decided to take it as a good sign.
Justice stole a quick look at Nic from under his lashes. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Before…before we, you know…you —”
“Before I fucked you into the mattress.”
Justice’s whisper came out choked. “Yeah. That.” He cleared his throat and tried again. “You said you didn’t mess with closeted guys. There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?”
Nic sighed and raked a hand through his loose blond hair. He should have seen this coming. Justice wasn’t stupid. Of course, he would eventually ask about past lovers, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was doing.
“Yeah, there’s definitely a story.”
“Will you tell me?” Those huge green eyes, nervous and pleading, made it impossible for Nic to say no.
“I dated my ex-boyfriend, Colin, for almost three years.”
“Wow.” Justice sounded a bit breathless, as if he couldn’t even fathom a relationship that long.
“He’s a lawyer at a prestigious firm in the city and, in general, the company is very conservative. While they couldn’t fire him out right without starting an unholy shit storm, he thought they would make his life hell if they knew he was gay. So he chose to stay in the closet, at least until he moved up the ranks a bit.”
“But I thought Seattle was supposed to be so progressive.” Justice’s dark brows pulled low over his eyes, and Nic could almost feel those preconceived notions being challenged in his mind.
“It is, very much so. But being open-minded isn’t a requirement for living or working here, no matter how much most Seattleites would like to make it so.”
At Justice’s nod, Nic continued with his epic sob story. “We’d been seeing each other for a few weeks before he dropped that little bomb, and I was already in too deep. I loved him.
“So I agreed to be his dirty little secret, while he was taking glamorous woman after glamorous woman to galas and work events.” Nic’s voice broke, so faintly he was sure Justice didn’t even notice, but he had to clear his throat to keep from croaking out his emotions all over his new lover.
“Of course, he didn’t make it sound so seedy. I can’t even remember now the things he said to me to keep me strung out and strung along, but he was good at it. He had a real silver tongue. In more ways than one,” he said, smiling half-heartedly at the innuendo.
Justice snorted out a weak laugh, but his eyes looked concerned. But not pitying. For that, Nic was grateful. That was the look Colin had given him the day Nic had packed up his shit and moved out.
“So he stayed closeted and dated women. What did you do?” Justice asked.
“I moved in with him after about nine months. I didn’t have a lease or anything since I lived on the boat. I just kept doing my charters and tried not to resent Colin for hiding our relationship.
“I don’t think he could ever bring himself to call me his boyfriend, even in private. I still to this day don’t know if he was just closeted, or if maybe he was lying to himself, thinking it was just a phase. I don’t fucking know, and I’ve worked really hard to stop caring.”
“Did you break up because he wouldn’t come out?”
Nic could hear the nerves in Justice’s voice, like maybe he was applying the events to their current situation. He was about to put an end to that. He gave a little mirthless laugh.
“I wish that were the reason. I had a charter cancel one afternoon, so I came home early. I didn’t even think to call first because, well, it was supposed to be my house too. Needless to say, I didn’t expect to come home to find Colin handcuffed to our bed, getting fucked within an inch of his life by another guy.”
Justice let out a shocked gasp and Nic closed his eyes, letting it roll over him, feeling those feelings that he tried to keep buried. Incomprehension, shock, disbelief, betrayal, anger. He ran the gamut as if it were happening all over again.
“A woman, I could have handled. Hell, I think I half expected it to end with Colin leaving me to ‘go straight.’ But another guy? As if I hadn’t bent over backwards, subjugating my entire life and beliefs, to be with him…just, no.”
With a gaping mouth and wide eyes, Justice stared at him again with empathy, but not pity. “What did you do?”
“Well…I’m not really proud of how I handled it. I ordered the boy toy to uncuff Colin and then I ran him out without his clothes. Don’t really know what became of him. As for Colin…I kind of punched him in the face. Then I packed my shit and got the hell out of there.”
“Oh…my God,” Justice whispered. Then he let out a shaky breath and looked down at his hands. “Why are you even hanging out with me? You must think I’m such a coward.”
Nic closed his eyes briefly. That was so not what he wanted Justice to get out of his miserable Colin story. He gripped Justice’s jaw and forced his head up. Then Nic ducked his own head and looked up at Justice, so he had no choice but to make eye contact.
“No. That is not what I think. No one can tell anyone else why or how they should come out. It can be a cruel and dangerous world for someone who�
�s different. It’s an unfair reality and no one, not even who you’re seeing, has the right to judge you. You’re living your life the way you need to, for your own safety and sanity, despite what others try to tell you is right or wrong. That takes courage.”
“You really believe that?” Justice asked with a rather befuddled expression on his face.
“Of course I do. Coming out is a deeply personal choice, and your number one priority has to be self-preservation. Conversely, deciding to be with someone who’s closeted is also a very personal thing, and it isn’t for everyone. That’s a form of self-preservation as well.”
“I guess…”
“Can I make one suggestion? And then we can talk about something more… pleasant.”
Justice seemed unsure, but he nodded, just a quick jerk of his head. Nic took it as permission, and steeled himself for the emotional uphill battle he was getting ready to fight.
“When I first heard that my dad had passed away, the thing that popped into my head —more like took up residence and lived there for quite some time —was how I hadn’t made more of an effort to stay close to him. I didn’t call enough, I didn’t make the time to fly out and visit after he retired.
“Sure, we got along; I knew he loved me, and I like to think he knew I loved him. But I just always thought there would be more time. There’s always more time, until there isn’t. It’s the one thing I’ll never forgive myself for; just not making our relationship a priority.
“The thing is, Jus, is that it sounds like you were perfectly justified in leaving home. Why live with people who are making you miserable, right? But imagine for a second, hypothetically, these people whose only son just told them he’s gay. No wedding bells, no grandkids, or so the straight folks think. Then there’s the ‘what will people think?’ that starts to invade their thoughts. What if they panic? What if they can’t figure out how to handle it, so they just don’t handle it? And, what if they know it’s wrong, they know they need to fix it, but they were always thinking there would be more time to do it eventually. Until there wasn’t. Until he was just gone.”
Justice had reared back in shock when Nic began talking about his parents. Nic could even see the fine tremors that were shaking his hands. But he was also still sitting there. Still listening. Gotta wrap it up, Valentine, before you lose him.
“So, all I’m saying is that you did the best you could with the reaction you got from them. And maybe, if you ever saw them again, they’d throw you out on your ass or try to send you to one of those ‘pray the gay away’ camps. But maybe, just maybe, they would admit they fucked up and ran out of time.
“You don’t have to say anything back, yeah? All I can say is that I’d give anything for a little more time with my dad. You get me?”
Justice nodded slowly, as if through quicksand, and a single tear rolled down his cheek before he swiped it away. He looked shell-shocked and decidedly more tense than he had been when they’d arrived.
Nic stroked the soft skin, following the path of the tear, and Justice gave him a sweet smile. It was like coming to a silent understanding. Nic had said his piece, Justice had listened. Time to move on.
With perfect timing, their wayward waitress arrived with their meals. Nic took his plate from her, and she placed Justice’s bowl of chowder in front of him and disappeared once again.
Nic belted out a laugh when he saw the look on Justice’s face as he got the first glance of what he’d ordered. Justice had gone a little green and was staring into the wide bowl like whatever was in it was still alive.
“What in the hell is this?” he demanded, causing Nic to dissolve into another fit of cackles.
“That, my dear Justice, is west coast chowder.”
Justice wrinkled his nose and poked at it with his spoon. “It has creatures.”
Nic laughed so hard he got a cramp under his ribs. Unlike the creamy deliciousness of New England clam chowder, west coast chowder was basically just a bowl full of large clams and mussels, still in their shells, swimming in a thin broth. Justice struck him as the type that would find that rather…gross.
“So it does,” Nic wheezed through his laughter. “At least…you have…bread!”
Justice curled his lip and snarled at him. Nic’s laughter died and his cock sprang to life. He’d never seen such a feral, toppy look from his sweet, gentle Justice. It was all kinds of sexy.
Of course, Justice didn’t notice Nic’s perving on him, because he was too busy eyeballing the shellfish. “I can’t…I don’t,” he stuttered, and poked with his spoon some more. He seemed to shore up his courage pretty quick, though, taking out his fork and scraping the innards out of one of the clamshells.
He ate it, chewing and making faces, and swallowed rather laboriously. He gave Nic a pained smile. “I don’t usually like to eat things that still…look like themselves. Like crab legs and stuff. If it has eyes, fins, or a tail? Just, no.”
Nic chuckled, watching him choke down a few more clams, while chasing them with bites of bread and chugging water. Finally he took pity on the guy and gave him half of his sandwich.
Justice looked at him so gratefully, like he was his hero, that Nic’s stomach did a few flips. And his cock tried again to join the party. Nic needed a distraction. Correction, he needed a fucking drink. He looked at Justice for a moment, assessing his current mindset.
“Did you take any of your anxiety meds today?” Nic asked, hoping that wasn’t a taboo subject.
Justice flicked a glance his way and gave him a small smile. “Nope. Didn’t need to.”
Didn’t that just add a little bit more glow in Nic’s heart? “Good. Do a shot with me? To celebrate?”
“Why not?” Justice answered.
Nic signaled the waitress, who looked like she’d just barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes, and ordered them each a shot of Patrón. She poured the shots right in front of them before walking away without a word.
“I think she likes you,” Justice said, pinching his lips together, trying hard not to laugh.
“I’m a likeable guy.” Nic picked raised his shot glass and clinked it with Justice’s. “To new found confidence.”
Justice nodded and tossed back his shot. Nic took a brief but lust filled moment to watch his throat work it down, before slamming his own. He signaled the girl for another round, uncaring if she thought it was rude. She came quickly enough, and refilled their glasses.
This time, Nic didn’t hesitate, just tossed it home and waited for Justice to do the same. The liquor was like a sizzling ball of fire, sliding down his throat and slamming into his gut. It made him feel kind of warm and fuzzy, relaxed, and a little bit more confident.
He ran a hand down Justice’s arms, feeling the baby soft skin and fine hairs that stretched over the ropey muscle there. Justice closed his eyes and shivered, and Nic could no longer contain his arousal. He leaned forward, brushing his lips across Justice’s ear, and whispered.
“Wait a couple of minutes and meet me in the men’s room.”
Nic looked Justice in the eye, held his gaze to make sure he understood. Justice jerked a nod, and Nic hopped off his stool so fast he almost sent it flying. Then he hightailed it to the bathroom like his ass was on fire.
* * * *
Justice didn’t want to think about his parents. He didn’t want to think about Nic thinking about his parents. He wasn’t ready to give them the benefit of the doubt —he wasn’t sure he ever would be. But Nic’s advice had come from a place of experience, so Justice had listened and catalogued it away to think about later. He had better things to think about presently, anyway. Like the über-hot guy that was currently waiting for him in the bathroom.
He had the pleasant warmth of the tequila in his belly that was working to combat the pinch of nerves that tried to creep in. He wasn’t going to allow himself to have a meltdown right there…not when he was about to get laid…or something.
Justice cast a glance around the room, checking out
the faces of the wait staff, the other patrons of the bar. No one had been paying them any attention. He was worried that the waitress would think they were trying to dine and dash, so he laid a handful of bills on the bar beside his place setting.
Keeping his head down and trying to be inconspicuous, Justice strolled down the dark, quiet hallway towards the bathrooms. He found the men's and eased the door open with a light creak. It was pitch black inside the room, so he couldn’t get a sense of how big it was, or who was there. He turned around and fumbled for a light switch, but before he could find it, a hand covered his mouth and he was shoved face first into the door.
Justice knew it was Nic, he could feel Nic’s hard body pressing up against his back, Nic’s thick shaft nestling between his ass cheeks. He knew it, but it didn’t stop his heart from racing, or the full body shudder that wracked his muscles. Hard.
While Justice wasn’t really one for the bondage scene, he had a pretty healthy restraint fetish, and liked rough sex in general. It seemed as though Nic had tapped into his secret desire. Guys usually thought, because of his anxiety disorder, that he was fragile, when really all he wanted was a good, rough fuck.
Nic used the hand that wasn’t covering Justice’s mouth to flick on the light. He then ripped open Justice’s jeans, thrust a hand inside and grabbed Justice’s cock in a tight overhand grip, tugging hard. Justice got lightheaded from panting through his nose, but he’d pass out before he asked Nic to stop.
Delicious sparks were shooting from his groin to his belly, and he began thrusting into the circle of Nic’s hand. Sweat rolled down his temple as he struggled to stave off orgasm. He was not going to shoot that fast.
He almost lost the battle when Nic bit down on the back of his neck, as if marking him, and then whispered roughly in his ear. “Can you be quiet?”
Justice couldn’t quite bring his brain back online, since Nic was still softly stroking his cock and putting that little twist on the upstroke. When he didn’t answer right away, Nic reached below and gave his balls a hard tug.
“Unggh. Wha —?” Justice’s voice was muffled by the hand over his mouth, not that it was intelligible to begin with.