by Kaje Harper
John put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder to keep him seated. “I’ll show you out.”
Ryan eyed Mark as the detectives made their way to the door. “Any plans for the rest of the day, Mark? You want to pick out something for dinner?”
“Actually.” He turned to his father as John came back in the room. “Is there any chance I could go in to campus for a couple of hours?”
“To…?”
“The other guys in the band want to meet. We need to talk about what we’re going to do while Patrick is recovering and stuff.”
Ryan guessed that Mark also wanted to talk about the events of the day before with his friends. It might be good for him, to start to turn a nightmare into an adventure. “You gonna go look at Smythe Hall?” he asked. When Mark hesitated, Ryan added. “I’d be curious, if I were you. Hell, I am curious.”
“Yeah, I figured I would.”
“From now on, when the guys talk about scary stuff they’ve done, like hang gliding or whatever, you’ll be able to say, ‘That’s nothing. I climbed out of the sixth floor of a burning building on a short makeshift rope. And then I went back inside.’”
Mark gave him a wry grin, then sobered. “Only because you told me it was safe. You said I could do it. When you came through that flaming lab for me… God.”
“Adrenaline,” Ryan said. “Once a fire junkie, always a fire junkie.” He could see from Mark’s skeptical stare that he wasn’t buying it. “Okay, it was pretty scary for me too. But sometimes you just do what you have to. Especially for your kid.”
“You’re not my real dad,” Mark said softly. “You didn’t have to.”
Ryan stared at him. “Yeah. I did.”
Mark blinked and turned away. “So, Dad, can I go?”
“I guess so,” John said.
“And I could hang out there for a while. Because then you and Ryan get a couple of hours to… snog or whatever.”
“We what?”
Mark colored. “Look, I don’t want to know about it, okay? But even I can see that you and him, you just fit. Like, well for years now with you and Mom, there was always space between you. Even before the divorce.”
“I’m sorry—” John began.
Mark waved him off. “With Ryan there’s not. A space. So you should be together. It’s stupid for you to have to be all distant when I’m around, and for Ryan to sleep in the guest room, and shit. I mean, I’m fifteen. I can handle it. I just… don’t need any details, okay?”
John laughed softly. “Okay.”
“So I’m gonna run up and get my guitar. Can you maybe drive me?”
“In exchange for two hours of privacy?” John laughed again and ruffled Mark’s hair when he blushed. Mark ducked past him and John said, “Sure. I’ll get my coat.”
Ryan was still sitting in the kitchen when John returned. He heard the truck in the drive, and thought about going upstairs and getting naked into bed. But he didn’t move.
John came into the kitchen and tossed his keys in the dish. His cheeks were flushed with cold, and his eyes sparkled.
“So,” Ryan said, “what did it look like?”
“Um, I drove past,” John told him. “The fourth through sixth floors look pretty gutted, but the structure didn’t go down. It’s a mess, though. Millions of dollars if it can be repaired at all.” He hesitated then added, “The windows you used were both pretty burned out.”
Ryan nodded. “I figured.”
“God.” John came over and just sat down on the kitchen floor, his head in Ryan’s lap. Ryan ran his fingers through the curly auburn hair, rubbing gently.
“Hey,” he said. “A gray hair.”
“Sure. Kick a guy when he’s down.”
“You’ll still be hot with completely gray hair,” Ryan told him affectionately.
“If you ever fucking do something like that rope trick again, they’ll all be white.”
“Let’s hope it’s never necessary again.”
John nodded, rubbing his cheek against Ryan’s thigh. “Have I said how grateful I am that you did it, though?”
“About a million times.”
For a long while they were silent, just the clock ticking, and Ryan’s fingers winding through red, silky strands.
“Was it hard?” John asked. “To go in there? After your leg?”
“Oh yeah.” Ryan was long past pretending he never got scared. “I stood there for a minute looking at the flames, and all I could think of was that beam coming down. And here was another burning ceiling. If it’d been anyone but Mark, or you, I don’t know if I could have gone in.”
John pressed a silent kiss onto the denim over Ryan’s knee.
Ryan tugged his hair lightly. “In a way I’m glad it happened, though. Because I’ve been so twisted up in knots sometimes, sick to my stomach, wondering if I’d ever have the nerve to face a fire again. And now I know I can. And I know I really don’t want to do that anymore.”
“You don’t miss it? The excitement?”
“Nope.” Ryan shrugged. “When I joined the department, it was partly tribute to David and partly to do something to protect people. To be one of the good guys. But I think I also wanted the challenge, to face something that scared me. The adrenaline high. I don’t need that anymore. And hey, being in a relationship, raising a teenager? Those are scary enough in their own way. Being a doctor, holding people’s lives in my hands? I’ll have enough challenges.”
“Mark really likes you, trusts you,” John said.
“I’m glad.”
“He said you were the only guy who could tell him to rope-climb out a window and he’d do it.”
Ryan laughed. “Given that he’s around stupid-dare college boys, that’s probably a good thing.”
“Uh-huh.” John rubbed his cheek on Ryan’s leg again, a subtly different motion. “You smell good.”
“Oh yeah?”
John’s mouth trailed over denim, waking a new itch of need. “Clock’s ticking.”
“He won’t come home until you go get him. Which won’t happen until we’re done.”
“We’re doing something?” John’s teeth worked their way over the increasingly hard ridge in Ryan’s jeans. But Ryan suddenly wanted something else.
“Stand up.”
“What?” John stood obediently.
“Here.” Ryan steered John in close, standing between Ryan’s spread legs. He put his hands up to John’s belt buckle, opening it very slowly. John made a soft sound.
Ryan slid the metal tang free, pulled through the leather, out of his way. The stiff metal button yielded to his fingers and he tugged down the zipper tab, inch by slow inch. John’s hands stroked his face, his neck. Pushing those jeans down let him get his fingers into tight, firm ass cheeks under thin boxers. He squeezed, and John moaned. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Not yet. Blinds are closed. We’re alone.” Ryan leaned in, drawing his tongue over straining cotton. A dark spot appeared on the fabric and he licked at it, tasting salt. “Mm.”
Ryan flexed his wrists, and John’s dick slipped free of the descending shorts, slapping against the side of Ryan’s face. Ryan turned to kiss it. He licked lightly, and then nuzzled against the red curls, breathing in John’s scent.
“Don’t you want to…?” The end of John’s question was lost in a gasp, as Ryan deep-throated him with one swift motion.
Practice is a good thing. Ryan pulled back up, sucking hard. John’s fingers caressed his hollowed cheeks, then went to his shoulders. Two months had taught Ryan some things about this man. He slid the fingers of his good hand deeper underneath, pressing over John’s scrotum, and tasted the burst of slick precome across his tongue. John whimpered, bent his knees apart and jerked forward. Oh yeah, so good.
Ryan worked with his hand and mouth, sucking, sliding his tongue over and around, building John up. “Come on, Ry,” John gasped. “Let’s go up and sixty-nine.”
Ryan pulled free for a moment to say, “Nope. You’re mine.” Then
he resumed his assault. With a firm touch, he stroked John’s soft sac, rubbing gently over his balls. He slipped one finger into his own full mouth, stroking the tip of John’s dick as he did so. Then he slid that wet fingertip under, stroking the perineum, rubbing firmly, then pressing against John’s ass. John groaned deep in his chest, and his hands went to Ryan’s hair. Ryan pushed with his finger gently, insistently, gaining fingertip entrance, as John spread his legs as far as the jeans would allow.
Ryan found a rhythm of mouth and hands that had John vibrating between them, whimpering his name with indecipherable pleas. He bobbed his head, letting the spit drip wetly, keeping his teeth covered. Then he eased his mouth off John for a moment to look up. John’s eyes were blazing, his gaze fixed on Ryan’s lips, his face flushed and the cords of his neck drawn taut. “Come now,” Ryan said. “Come hard.”
He opened his mouth wide, and tried to relax his throat, as he gripped John’s ass with his free hand and pulled him in deep. John’s fingers clamped against the back of Ryan’s head, with a roughness he only got when he’d pushed him to the brink. John thrust forward without finesse, and again, forward, faster, fucking into his mouth. Ryan tried to stroke the rim of John’s opening with his finger, his hand cramped by the flex of John’s strong thighs. He hummed, trying to breathe, trying to open his throat more, taken, possessed, filled with John. Yes, yeah, give me all of it. Do me. Come for me.
John groaned, and Ryan suddenly tasted the first gush of salty fluid. He swallowed fast, hiding his gag. He was still learning, and his throat was sore, but he wanted this, needed it. He pulled off very slowly, licking as he went, sucking on the rounded glans, trying to show how much this was for both of them. John’s shaking hands dropped back to Ryan’s shoulders, and he straightened his knees.
Ryan looked up. The fierce light in John’s eyes had turned warm and soft. “God damn, Ry,” he said. “You keep getting better.”
One corner of Ryan’s mouth tugged upward. “Good.”
“Wow. Give me a minute and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“No rush,” Ryan told him. “I want you upstairs, on your back.”
“That could be arranged.”
Ryan reached down and helped John pull up his briefs and jeans. He batted away the thick, callused fingers, and carefully zipped, buttoned, buckled. John stood obediently under his hands, smiling.
“There.” Ryan patted the fabric in the right spot to draw a sensitive breath from his lover. “All better.”
“Not sure I could handle better.”
Ryan stood carefully, ignoring the crutches he’d leaned against the spare chair. John’s hand went to his elbow, a light touch of support. Ryan looked up into his face. God, I love him. And the landline on the counter rang.
“Leave it,” John said.
Three more rings and the answering machine picked up. Ryan expected a telemarketer hang-up, but instead his father’s voice came through. “Ryan? It’s Dad. I just… We haven’t heard from you in a while. I’ve called your cell but perhaps you didn’t get my messages? I don’t want to interfere with your life or anything but… maybe call me some time? Love you, son.” Then he hung up.
John eyed Ryan gently. “Still hiding from your dad?”
I don’t quite trust him to be okay with this. And then I feel guilty. “Not hiding. I just… he worries.”
“So tell him you’re fine. You don’t need to give him any personal details, if you don’t want him to know about us.”
“I will. Soon.”
“Look,” John said. “You think he won’t react well to me? Then he really doesn’t have to know. I’m fine with that. You don’t have to be out with your family. I can be just your landlord, for as long as you like. But he lost one son. I can imagine he likes to keep tabs on the rest of you. A brief, ‘Hi, I’m good, how ’bout you’ call won’t hurt you. Then we can go upstairs and play.”
“I don’t know.” I want to show you off. I don’t want him to know. I’m an idiot.
“Call him.” John held out the cordless phone.
Ryan took it gingerly.
“Do you want me to go elsewhere?” John asked.
“God, no.” Ryan took one of John’s big arms and wrapped himself in it. The other arm came round him nicely. He took a deep breath and dialed.
“Hello?” His dad’s voice was the same as ever.
“Dad? It’s Ryan.”
“Ryan! It’s good to hear from you, boy. Is everything all right? Do you need anything?”
Ryan winced. Obviously his dad didn’t expect casual conversation anymore. “No, I’m fine. Just wanted to talk.”
“Oh?” He could still hear a hint of disbelief. “Well, that’s good. That’s great. How are you?”
“I’m… Everything’s coming together, you know.”
“Tell me.”
“I know you’ve been worried about me,” he said. “And I haven’t called much.”
“You’ve had a tough year. A really tough year,” his dad said. “We understood.”
“A lot of changes,” Ryan told him. “But this, going to medical school, everything, it’s right. I can feel it, it just fits.”
“You always were trying to bandage up your brothers, from the time you could tie a knot.”
Ryan laughed. “Yeah. Whether they were hurt or not. I feel like I’m doing what I was meant to do.”
“That’s good. That’s important.”
“And something good is happening in my personal life too.” Ryan stopped.
“Really?” His father’s interest sharpened. “You seeing someone special, Ryan?”
Ryan leaned back against John’s chest. John’s body pressed against his, solid and strong, moving with his slow, steady breaths. Ryan could lean, and not fall. “Someone really special,” he told his father. “Dad, I’ve met this man…”
#######
About the Author
I get asked about my name a lot. It's not something exotic, though. “Kaje” is pronounced just like “cage” – it’s an old nickname.
I was born in Montreal but I've lived for 30 years in Minnesota, where the two seasons are Snow-removal and Road-repair, where the mosquito is the state bird, and where winter can be breathtakingly beautiful. Minnesota’s a kind, quiet (if sometimes chilly) place and it’s home.
I’ve been writing far longer than I care to admit (*whispers – forty years*), mostly for my own entertainment, usually M/M romance (with added mystery, fantasy, historical, SciFi…) I also have a few Young Adult stories (some released under the pen name Kira Harp.)
In 2010, my husband finally convinced me that after all the years of writing for fun, I really should submit something, somewhere. To my surprise, they liked it. My first professionally published book, Life Lessons, came out from MLR Press in May 2011. I have a weakness for closeted cops with honest hearts, and teachers who speak their minds, and I had fun writing four novels and three freebie short stories in that series. I was delighted and encouraged by the immediate reception Mac and Tony received, and went on to release other stories.
I now have a good-sized backlist in ebooks and print, some free, some indie and professionally published, including Amazon bestseller The Rebuilding Year and Rainbow Award Best Mystery-Thriller Tracefinder: Contact.
I'm always pleased to have readers find me online at:
Website: https://kajeharper.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KajeHarper
Goodreads Author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4769304.Kaje_Harper
Other Books by Kaje Harper
Self-Published/Indie:
Tracefinder: Contact (Tracefinder #1)
Tracefinder: Changes (Tracefinder #2)
Second Act
Rejoice, Dammit
The Family We’re Born With (Finding Family #1) - free novella
The Family We Make (Finding Family #2)
Unfair in Love and War (in the charity anthology Another Place in Tim
e)
Not Your Grandfather’s Magic (in the charity anthology Wish Come True)
Re-releasing in 2017:
The Rebuilding Year (Rebuilding Year #1)
Life, Some Assembly Required (Rebuilding Year #2)
Sole Support
Gift of the Goddess
Audiobook:
Into Deep Waters (Narrated by Kaleo Griffith)
From MLR Press:
Life Lessons (Life Lessons #1)
Breaking Cover (Life Lessons #2)
Home Work (Life Lessons #3)
Learning Curve (Life Lessons #4)
Unacceptable Risk (Hidden Wolves #1)
Unexpected Demands (Hidden Wolves #2)
Unjustified Claims (Hidden Wolves #3)
Unsafe Exposure (Hidden Wolves #4)
Storming Love: Nelson & Caleb
Full Circle
Where the Heart Is
Ghosts and Flames
Possibilities
Tumbling Dreams (in the anthology Going For Gold)
Free series stories:
And To All a Good Night (Life Lessons #1.5)
Getting It Right (Life Lessons #1.8)
Compensations (Life Lessons #3.5)
Unsettled Interlude (Hidden Wolves #1.15)
Unwanted Appeal (Hidden Wolves #2.5)
Can’t Hurt to Believe (Into Deep Waters #1.005)
Stand-alone free novels:
Into Deep Waters
Nor Iron Bars a Cage
Chasing Death Metal Dreams
Lies and Consequences
Laser Visions
Changes Coming Down (in the free anthology Hunting Under Covers)
Stand-alone free short stories:
Like the Taste of Summer
Show Me Yours
Within Reach
A full list and links can be found at:
http://www.kajeharper.wordpress.com/books/