Unspeakable Words

by Sarah Madison

  The wail of sirens caught his attention, and Jerry could make out the spinning lights of an ambulance bearing down on their location. His heart sank just a little. All he wanted to do was go home. The last thing he wanted was the impersonal and invasive examination of strangers, complete with a long, tedious wait in the ER and, no doubt, an overnight stay for observation.

  He couldn’t even ask Flynn to stay with him, knowing what kind of stress that would put Flynn through. He was just going to have to tough it out alone. The story of his life.

  Flynn reached out and gripped his arm. Jerry looked down, noting the strong fingers on his sleeve, the coarse, dark hair visible on Flynn’s wrists where his sleeve had been pushed back. Jerry raised his eyes to meet Flynn’s concerned expression, and somehow he knew that everything would be all right.

  THEY discharged him after twenty-four hours’ observation and a clean CAT scan.

  He’d woken once during his stay in the hospital to see Flynn sitting in a chair beside his bed. “Go back to sleep,” Flynn had ordered. It had seemed easier to comply than argue. When he next awoke, Flynn was gone.

  Flynn had been there to take him home, and it had been with relief that he’d entered the apartment. He’d gratefully crawled into bed when Flynn had suggested that he go lie down and take a nap. Hospitals really weren’t conducive to getting much rest.

  He’d woken to see Flynn sitting beside his bed again with a serious expression on his face.

  “I’m confused,” Flynn had said by way of preamble when it was obvious that Jerry was awake.

  That makes two of us, Jerry thought sleepily.

  Flynn smiled, small and self-conscious. “I’m not sure how I feel about you. I have this… this connection with you. It’s deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before. But I don’t know what it means. Is it because of the telepathy or spending so much time in your company? Have I been influenced by your thoughts of me, flattering as they may be? I don’t know.”

  Jerry held his breath and tried not to think of anything.

  Flynn looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. “I’ve always considered myself a straight sort of guy. You’re making me rethink that.”

  “And you don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” Jerry said softly, remembering his promise, that if he ever got out of that trunk, that he’d tell Flynn how he felt. It was still harder to do in practice than he’d ever thought it would be.

  “It’s a pretty big deal,” Flynn said ruefully, with only a quick glance up before studying his hands again.

  Not to mention the implications for how others would react to you or for your career advancement from here on out.

  “Goddamn it!” Flynn snapped. “Do you really think I’m so shallow that career advancement would be my only concern?”

  He was so freaking adorable that Jerry couldn’t help but think it, and then he smiled as Flynn flushed charmingly.

  “Damn it, I’ll show you adorable,” he said, leaning in as though to brush Jerry’s lips with a kiss. He hesitated, placing a hand on Jerry’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed. Flynn took his lower lip in his teeth briefly, his uncertainty plainly evident on his face.

  Jerry tentatively placed a hand on Flynn’s rib cage, and Flynn dropped his gaze to stare at it, taking in a deep breath. He seemed to gather up his courage and leaned in closer, only to stop within a millimeter of brushing Jerry’s lips with his own.

  They hovered that way for a second, and Jerry had to wonder what was holding Flynn back. Was it because of the guy thing, or was it because Jerry was ostensibly recovering from injury? Was Flynn having second thoughts? Flynn made a little noise of frustration and determination and tightened his fingers on Jerry’s shoulder before making contact. Jerry melted as Flynn’s lips touched his own.

  Flynn’s lips were soft yet strong, hesitant only for a moment before becoming more certain. Certainty gave way to demanding, and Jerry opened his mouth eagerly, wanting Flynn to know how very much he wanted this. Flynn made a sharp inhalation through his nose, the sound and the slick thrust of his tongue into Jerry’s mouth sending a warm surge of lust straight to Jerry’s cock. This was the moment he’d been craving ever since he’d picked up the stubbled, crazy-haired Flynn from the airport. Ever since the first morning when Flynn had stood, clad only in a towel, in his kitchen doorway.

  “Okay, you’ve got to stop that,” Flynn murmured against his lips. “Because that’s really good for a guy’s ego.”

  He sat back, a little flushed and looking pleased with himself, like a schoolboy who’d just pulled off a daring feat. Jerry thought of things he could show Flynn that would really flatter his ego and firmly squashed them. No sense in scaring the guy off. As a matter of fact, a little bit of self-sacrifice was called for here. He cleared his throat. “Look,” he said hurriedly before Flynn could interrupt. “I know this is all new for you, and there are reasons why you might doubt that what you’re feeling is really coming from you. I just want you to know I’m behind your decision—whatever it may be—one hundred percent. You’re… you’re just the most important person in my life, okay? You get me. I don’t want to lose that.”

  Even if it means I have to keep my hands and thoughts to myself.

  Flynn snorted and then brushed the end of his nose, embarrassed. “How about we declare a moratorium on making any major life-changing decisions until you’ve been out of the hospital for at least twenty-four hours, okay?”

  Relief swept over him. “Yes. Excellent plan.”

  “Okay.” Flynn stood. He was wearing a black V-neck sweater that Jerry didn’t recognize and jeans that actually fit, emphasizing his long, lean form, making Jerry wonder where they’d come from. “How about some coffee? And scones?”

  “Scones?” Jerry sat up. “The blueberry kind? From the bakery?”

  Flynn rolled his eyes. “Where else?”

  DESHANO was picked up in Mexico under an assumed identity the very next day, and extradition proceedings were begun. He had in his possession at the time Sargent’s portrait of Mrs. Carl Meyer and her children, a painting assumed to be in a private collection. Unfortunately, the paint on the portrait that DeShano was carrying was still a bit tacky, and the owners of record confirmed that the painting was still in their possession. It was a boneheaded move, Jerry thought. The sign of a greedy man. He’d have been better off producing something in the same lines as Sargent but calling it a new finding rather than blatantly copying something already in existence. A part of Jerry thought it sad that DeShano, obviously a talented artist, had chosen to make forgeries rather than try to sell his own work.

  When Jerry returned to the field office the following day, he was surprised by the presentation of a cake and a Welcome Back banner in the break room at lunch.

  “What’s all this?” Jerry was confused and shot a glance at Flynn for explanation. He only shrugged and gave him a decidedly sly grin in return.

  “The design was his idea,” Beth from accounting said as she passed him a knife to cut the cake. The frosting depicted a car with an open trunk.

  Jerry laughed and passed out the first slice to the small crowd of people pushing into the room. The cake was far too sweet for his liking, but he ate it anyway. He received several silly cards and some gag gifts as well, including a remote trunk-opening device.

  He was startled to see that Fielding was sporting an impressive black eye. Fielding seemed embarrassed and as though he was avoiding Jerry, but it wasn’t until he saw Flynn shoot him a look of dark dislike that he realized who Fielding was really avoiding. It shouldn’t have made him feel so warm to know that Flynn had his back, but it did just the same.

  Harding stopped by Jerry’s desk toward the end of the afternoon. “Good work, Parker.” He glanced at Jerry’s fingertips, several of which were taped over so that he could type. “You could’ve taken another day off, you know.”

  Jerry shook his head. “We wanted to get the paperwork on this one done
and signed off. I want to turn everything we’ve got over to Agent Kowalski and her people. Art forgery is her specialty. Her team is the best one to handle the cleanup here. Everything that DeShano sold will have to be tracked down and authenticated. And while this murder might not have been related to GFT, Agent Flynn and I feel that there are some aspects of that case that need to be reviewed, and we’d like to get on that as soon as possible.”

  Harding’s mouth twitched as though he was trying to suppress a laugh. “How does Flynn feel about the implications that he hasn’t been thorough in his investigation so far?”

  Jerry opened his mouth to protest that that wasn’t what he meant, but Harding just smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Just joking, Parker.” He turned to Flynn as he approached.

  “Ah, there you are, Flynn. I just wanted to let you know your transfer has been approved. If you need some time to go back to DC to move your things, let me know. I assume you’ll need to find a place to stay here as well?”

  “I’m still working on that, sir,” Flynn said with a smile.

  That evening, as they rode the elevator down to the parking garage, Flynn said, “See, I told you they liked you.”

  “You said they respected me—two different things.” Jerry sniffed. “No, not even that. You said they desired my ‘expertise’.” He made the appropriate finger quotes. “I’m not even sure that qualifies as respect.”

  Flynn reached out to bop him on the back of the head and then stared at him with a chagrined expression when Jerry flinched at the movement.

  “I’m sorry,” Flynn said. “That was stupid of me.”

  Jerry repressed a shudder. “It was just reflexive on my part. It’s not like I remember getting hit on the head.”

  Flynn gripped his arm and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. I was jumpy like that for a long time after the shooting. Kept thinking I saw something out of the corner of my eye. And no, I am not giving you permission to ask me about it.” Flynn shot him a rueful expression that was ever so slightly sly as well. Redirection, Jerry thought. It was a wonder the man hadn’t become a world-class magician.

  Flynn gave him a little smirk.

  As they crossed the parking garage to the dark-blue government vehicle Flynn was driving, Jerry wondered when he was going to get his car back and then suddenly realized that Flynn could have been driving himself around San Francisco all this time. He obviously hadn’t needed Jerry to act as chauffeur at all.

  “It only made sense for us to ride together,” Flynn said, sounding a little apologetic. “Besides, after the whole telepathy thing, I was in no fit condition to drive myself anywhere.” He gave a little shrug.

  But now you don’t need me anymore. There was both regret and relief in the realization.

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Flynn said, his voice dropping in register. “Soundproof,” he said with amusement a second later.

  As they entered the apartment, the cats greeted them with a chorus of meows, conveying the immediate need to ingest food before dire things happened to anyone. Without words, both men changed clothes, Flynn into shorts and a T-shirt for the gym, Jerry into a faded, powder blue shirt and jeans. The apartment was warm enough that he went barefoot, enjoying the feel of the plush carpet between his toes.

  Jerry watched Flynn head out the door. He headed into the kitchen, fed the cats, and poked around in the fridge. A frightening amount of leftover takeout had appeared during the last few days, which needed to be eaten soon or thrown away. He’d suggest it for dinner when Flynn returned. It wouldn’t take long to heat up. He got out rubber gloves and filled the sink with soapy water, scrubbing the cat mat and dishes when they were done eating. He noted that the designated counter sponge looked suspiciously as though it had been used for another purpose. There were more than a few cat hairs on it, and he tossed it out, taking a clean sponge from a pack under the sink. He wondered if it would help to mark the sponges as to their purpose. At least Flynn knows how to use a sponge, he chided himself.

  In the living room, he saw the stack of unsorted letters on his desk and noted the sprawling, untidy pile of shoes by the door that seemed to be getting larger every day. He also noted the addition of a big suitcase by the couch that hadn’t been there before and realized that Flynn must have had it sent out from his apartment in DC. He wondered who had sent it and how much longer Flynn was going to sleep on his couch.

  Not that he wanted Flynn to move out. Just off the couch.

  He told himself that he needed to be patient and let Flynn decide for himself what he wanted to do.

  He was kneeling in front of bookcase when Flynn came in from the gym.

  “Hey.” He glanced up as Flynn came in, noting the sweat-dampened hair and shirt, the hairy legs, the absence of any socks as Flynn toed off his shoes by the door. He flicked his glance back to the bookshelves, not wanting to be caught staring.

  “Whatcha doing?” Flynn came up to stand behind him. Close. Too close. Jerry could feel the heat coming off his skin where he stood.

  Jerry concentrated on not turning his head but continuing to scan the shelves. “I’m looking for a movie I thought we’d watch tonight after dinner, if you like. But I think I might’ve….” He broke off midsentence. Damn it. He was pretty sure that was one of the ones that Derek never returned. Bastard. Bad enough that he cheated on him, but then he’d acted as if Jerry was the one at fault and kept several DVDs that he’d borrowed. In some ways, the failure to return the DVDs bothered Jerry more than the betrayal. Ah well, Derek had always been a cheapskate.

  He felt a slight movement near his arm and glanced up to see that Flynn had taken another step closer. From this angle, Jerry had a nice view of his package, and it was hard not to stare at the way the thin nylon running shorts outlined everything.

  Flynn’s tongue made a brief appearance between his lips, and Jerry found himself mesmerized by the small movement until he remembered his self-promise not to push Flynn in any way.

  “Derek wasn’t a very nice guy,” Flynn said slowly. “But he did have an interesting memory of you.”

  “Oh, really?” Jerry asked. He bit at his lip. He had no idea where this was going.

  “Yeah.” Flynn’s voice deepened. “He seemed to think you gave pretty good blowjobs.”

  Jerry coughed suddenly. When he looked up, Flynn’s hazel eyes were alight with mischief. As he watched, the sudden dilation of Flynn’s pupils struck him as the hottest thing he’d ever seen, sending a bolt of sensation straight to his cock. Jerry carefully placed a hand on Flynn’s calf, smoothing a thumb over the delightfully hairy skin, letting his hand rest there a moment, feeling the heat between them before slowly getting to his feet. He slid his palm up the inside of Flynn’s thigh as he rose, pulling his hand away just shy of brushing Flynn’s balls as he did so.

  Flynn snagged his hand as Jerry was pulling back. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice as dark as his eyes.

  “I’m giving you time to decide if this is what you really want,” Jerry said slowly, watching Flynn’s face the entire time. He started to move away, but Flynn tightened his grip on Jerry’s wrist.

  “You don’t need to show me your card. I know you got tested at the hospital. I know you get tested regularly, and yes, I know that’s part of life as a gay man. Should be part of everyone’s life, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s just….” He made a noise of frustration and let go of Jerry to run his hand through his hair. “How can I know what I want if I don’t know….” He broke off, taking a step closer, until all either of them had to do was lean, and their lips would be brushing.

  Jerry could feel the heat coming off of him, almost like steam, moist and shimmering. He could see the chain that Flynn always wore outlined under the cotton T-shirt, could see the scattering of gray hairs in his five-o’clock shadow. Wide-eyed and serious, Flynn took Jerry’s hand and placed it over his groin.

  Jerry gently cupped him, feeling the hard shaft of his erection and sens
ing more than actually hearing the soft groan that accompanied the movement of his fingers. Flynn gripped him by the arm, as though he was afraid Jerry would leave.

  Like that’s going to happen.

  He wasn’t sure who moved first. One minute Flynn was looking at him with both arousal and uncertainty in his eyes; the next their mouths had met, and their hands were pulling at clothes, desperately seeking skin. Flynn broke off his assault of Jerry’s mouth to drag his lips across Jerry’s neck, and the rasp of his stubble against Jerry’s sensitive skin made him moan, fingers clenching into Flynn’s skin.

  “You like that, huh?” Flynn murmured, releasing Jerry from his embrace enough to drop his head. “How about this?”

  He closed his mouth over Jerry’s nipple through his shirt, sucking at it until the cloth was wet, pulling the small bud in between his lips and teasing it with tongue and teeth. “You like it hard, don’t you?” he whispered, moving his lips over the damp cloth and nipple. “On the edge of pain. You haven’t found anyone who could give you what you want, but I know exactly how to light you up.” He gave the small bud a nip, and Jerry felt his cock jerk in response.

  He threaded his hand into Flynn’s hair and pulled his head back, kissing him hard. When they parted, Flynn just smiled at him, eyes flashing with heat and excitement.

  Two can play that game, Jerry thought. I don’t have to be a mind reader.

  He took Flynn by the arm and led him over to the couch, pushing him down on it. The cats scattered. Oliver shot Jerry a baleful glare and flounced off out of the room, tail flicking. Phoenix pounced on his tail as he went by, causing him to gallop off with her in pursuit.

  Flynn landed on the couch with a laugh, legs spread apart. Jerry knelt in between his knees and slid his hands up Flynn’s thighs, causing Flynn to duck his head and push forward slightly with his pelvis. Jerry waited.

  “Jer,” Flynn said at last. “Come on, I want this. Don’t be a fucking tease.”

  In response, Jerry held his gaze for a long moment. There was so much he wanted to give Flynn here, so much of himself he wanted to share. It was important to him to show Flynn how good sex could be between two men, between two people who cared about each other. He knew that the telepathy gave Flynn an unfair advantage, but he suspected that worked both ways, because he didn’t have to say anything here, only think what he was feeling and elicit a response in Flynn.