by E M Lindsey
However long he was here, any pain would be worth it.
He stretched his back, balancing himself carefully, ignoring the bruising ache in his stumps as he padded out of the bedroom and back to the kitchen for some water. The place was tidy, not as minimalist as Rowan’s place, but he figured that had everything to do with his mom, and likely to do with the trauma Rowan suffered after being unceremoniously dragged from the only real home he’d ever known and thrown into the system.
James knew the bare-bones story of it, knew the reasons why Rowan had gone into the type of law he’d gone into, but for all that he knew he loved the man, there were pieces of him that made him a stranger. He clutched the water glass in one hand, then perused the shelves of the small living room. The space was nice—it was obvious his mother had been a wheelchair user by the height of everything, and he wished he’d been able to know her before she’d passed.
Story of his life though, a day late and a dollar short. Rowan seemed happy enough to have him—and James wasn’t sure he was ready to unpack the whole idea that Rowan thought he’d come as just a friend. There would never be just friends between them, he knew that from the start. Even if they’d tried, it would have either crashed forward or fizzled out because with them, there’d never be an in between. He didn’t want that, anyway. Rowan was far too much more to ever be just a friend. James would always be in love with him—at least on some level—even if it didn’t work out.
He didn’t want to think about that, though. Not now. He sipped his water, then moved to a shelf and bent over to stare at the little photographs. He recognized kid Rowan immediately, his hair more wild and curly than it was clipped short and styled. He had a gap in his front teeth, and a scab on his nose, and he was grinning wider than James had ever seen.
He traced the edge of the photo with his finger and wondered if he’d ever get to see that side of Rowan. He’d been unsettled so damn young—the one thing he thought was safe torn from him—and James was pretty sure he never dropped his guard again. It made him nervous, made him wonder if there was room for a future, because James wanted that. He was willing to make concessions, but he wanted to settle down. He didn’t want to leave his family, or his little house, and he wanted to plant roots with someone.
It made his insides ache as he considered the idea of letting Rowan go once more, but he supposed he had to face it. He’d made his choice. Even if he went back alone, a small piece of him would always stay with this man.
With a sigh, James returned the glass to the kitchen, then crept back into the room. Rowan was still fast asleep, one hand flung up over his head, the other resting on his bare belly. James felt a low simmer of want as he took in the expanse of smooth skin, the thick hair, the shallow belly button. He’d be patient for as long as Rowan needed him to be, as long as he could stay right here.
Lowering to the edge of the bed, James carefully removed his legs again, setting them to the side before easing up under the cool sheets. He shifted, and Rowan mumbled in his sleep, turning toward him. His arm snaked out, snagging James around the waist, and he pulled him in tight. James let himself pretend that Rowan knew what he was doing, that even in his deepest slumber, he would always reach for him.
* * *
James woke to find Rowan propped up on his elbow, the tips of his fingers tracing along some of his ink on his shoulder. He fought back a yawn, covering it with his hand to avoid his morning breath, and he smiled as Rowan leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Been up long?” James asked.
Rowan shrugged, his voice still rough and thick with sleep when he answered, “Fifteen minutes, maybe. I haven’t slept this well since I first got here.”
James rolled onto his side and let his hand rest against Rowan’s waist. Rowan shifted closer, opening his thighs, and he let James tuck the end of his stump between them. It was soft and warm, and so comfortable, he was sure if he let himself, he could drift off again.
“I have a ton of crap to do today,” Rowan said after a moment. He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers against James’ hair. “You’re welcome to come with me, but it’s going to be really boring.”
James reached for Rowan’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his wrist. “I came here to be with you. I don’t much care if I have to sit around waiting.”
Rowan leaned in, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss, then he breathed out and rested his forehead against James’. “I’ll get some coffee started. I have to be at the lawyer’s office at ten, so if you want to lay around for a little while longer, we can eat in bed.”
James stretched, grinning. “After yesterday, I wouldn’t say no, darlin’.”
Rowan’s grin looked almost involuntary, and James damn well knew how much Rowan loved hearing the term of endearment. It was so common in the world, but felt almost impossibly unique when he used it on this man. Before Rowan could go, James seized his wrist and pulled him down for a firmer kiss, no tongue, but the passion simmered beneath it.
After a long while, Rowan finally pulled back, looking a little dazed, but happier than James had seen him in the short time he’d been there. “I’ll be back,” Rowan said, then slipped out of the room.
James pushed himself up to sit, stretching his legs, using his muscles that would have curled his toes to stretched them a bit, and ease some of the phantom aches that were threatening to flare up. When he relaxed back against the sheets and finally looked around at the space they were in, he realized it had to have been Rowan’s childhood bedroom. There was a Goonie’s poster on the wall, along with a few album covers, and books that definitely looked like a child would have devoured them. There were couple of ribbons pinned near the empty desk, and a trophy on the top of a bookcase that was covered in years’ worth of dust.
His heart ached a little at how Rowan had come back here to this—to this stark reminder of what he’d lost against his will, and James had no idea how it must have felt. He wanted to ask, but so fresh after Rowan’s mom died felt unfair. He could only hope Rowan would talk to him.
The door opened just as James caught the scent of coffee, and the other man walked in with a tea tray holding two mugs, a stack of buttered toast, and a couple of unpeeled bananas. “We had a lot less than I thought,” Rowan said with a faint blush.
James shook his head and scooted over, making room for the tray to sit between them. “No worries, darlin’. This is good, and we can shop or go out later. I ain’t really a breakfast guy.” He sipped the coffee, less bitter than he expected it to be for a rich, black brew, and he sat back, feeling the first stirrings of morning energy hit him. “How are you feeling?”
Rowan shrugged, nibbling on the end of his toast. He’d done the same with the sandwich James had whipped up for him the night before, and only after some threats and encouragement did he manage half. James didn’t feel up for pushing today, though. “It’s all kind of surreal.” He leaned his head back against the headboard and rolled it over to look at James. “I had so much time to prepare, but it doesn’t really take the edge off, I don’t think. I think it’s almost worse— watching her slowly fade away. It’s…I don’t know.” He breathed out, rubbing one hand down his face. “I can’t regret getting these last months with her.”
James took another drink of his coffee, then reached for Rowan’s hand with his free one. “I was real young when my momma died, and it wasn’t slow like that. Seemed like she was here one day, then gone the next. I don’t think I really processed it until I was layin’ in a hospital bed and trying to understand just how close I’d come to joinin’ her.”
Rowan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he said, his voice rough.
James felt a little guilt squeeze at him. “Sorry.”
Rowan shook his head. “No, babe. It’s fine. We can talk about this stuff. I need to.”
A slow smile spread over James’ mouth. “Did you just call me babe?”
Rowan’s eye
s snapped open, and his cheeks went bright with a blush. “Um. Yes? God, that’s so trite and cheesy, isn’t it?”
“I like it,” James insisted. He tugged Rowan’s hand over and pressed kissed to the tips of his fingers. Rowan’s face glowed brighter, and James found himself wanting to tackle the man and pin him down to the bed and kiss him until they couldn’t breathe. But he hadn’t been invited for that yet, and today didn’t seem like the day to jump into what they were before all this mess. So, he carefully let Rowan’s hand fall away, and he went back to the breakfast.
“Tell me about you and Harry,” Rowan said after he settled back with his coffee.
James gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged. “Not much to tell. I was at the shop the other night, waitin’ on him for a date. Sage and Derek thought maybe I was being a bit stupid about you.”
Rowan’s eyebrows rose. “Stupid about me?”
“About letting you go so easy,” James said with a shrug. “They were right, it just took me some time to see it.”
“I hope he didn’t take it too hard,” Rowan said after a moment. “I meant it when I said he seemed like a good guy.”
“And I meant it when I said he was. If it wasn’t for you, I’d’ve tried harder, but my heart was never in it. He…we were on my couch watching a movie, and I couldn’t focus. He leaned over and he kissed me, and I knew right then it wasn’t gonna work. I didn’t really have to say much. He could tell.” James let out a puff of air, thinking about Harry’s face that night.
He’d looked a little sad, and maybe a little disappointed, but he didn’t seem angry. He looked resigned to the fact that he’d showed up a bit too late to the party and James was already taken. James tried to apologize, and Harry had just leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“You call me if it doesn’t work out and you feel ready to try again,” he’d murmured, and then he’d gone. No fuss, no fanfare. Just the quiet click of James’ front door, and the soft crunch of gravel as his car pulled away.
James got a text not an hour later with the confirmation of his first flight—the one he’d postponed after Rowan had told him about his mother—but he had resolved to fly out no matter when it was and sort this thing out between the two of them.
And it looked like a good bet this time.
“I want to feel bad about it, but all this,” Rowan said, waving his hand in a half circle, “I want to be greedy. I want to be selfish. This hurts and I don’t want to be alone.”
“You’re not,” James told him. He let Rowan set the mug down on the tray, then he leaned over and eased it to the floor before rolling back toward the other man. Rowan’s arms opened for him, pulling him over until he was straddling his hips, propped up by his knees, his hands on Rowan’s chest. “If I can help it, you won’t have to be alone ever again. Not any time you don’t want to be.”
Rowan closed his eyes and opened them in a slow blink, then brought one hand to James’ cheek and cupped it. “Not sure what I did to deserve you.”
“Maybe it’s not about that, darlin’,” James murmured. He turned his face to press a kiss to the center of James’ palm, then nuzzled it with his nose. “Maybe it’s about two people who need and want each other, finally bein’ ready to come together.”
“I like that,” Rowan said with a grin. He wrapped his hand around the back of James’ neck and tugged him in for a kiss.
They both tasted of coffee and banana—a strange combination, but James didn’t hate it. He liked that Rowan’s tongue was sweet, that it was a little warm and wet, that his groans were punched out of him like he couldn’t help it. James curled his fingers into Rowan’s rich black, mussed hair, holding him firm as he kissed him until he was short of breath.
“I want you,” Rowan said. He wriggled beneath James, and James could feel where he was growing hard, his boxers a bit damp right in the center.
James closed his eyes, breathing out a soft sigh. “Are you sure you want this right now? We just came back together, and you’ve been through a lot.”
Rowan pinched James’ chin, drawing his eyes open and his gaze up. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I left. Every night, you were in my head when I touched myself. Every time I came, it was with your name on my lips. Trust me when I say that if I’m sure about anything, it’s that I want to be with you.”
The emotion James felt was raw and powerful, the start of something that was only going to grow the longer they were together. It was terrifying and wonderful in equal measure, and James found he couldn’t stop himself as he reached down and pulled Rowan’s cock from the slit of his boxers. It was hot in his hand, pulsing, the head pushing up from the foreskin and so wet at the tip.
“Gorgeous,” James murmured. He’d never really understood when his friends would joke around about being hungry for cock until he got his hands on Rowan. Now his mouth salivated with the idea of taking it down his throat, and he stared to push back down between Rowan’s spread thighs.
Rowan stopped him with a hand to his shoulder, and there was something almost painful on his face when James looked up. “You don’t have to do that. I know it’s still new for you and…”
“I want to,” James told him, hoping Rowan could read the utter sincerity on his face. “Darlin’, I want to suck your cock more’n I’ve wanted to do a lot of things. Now, if you don’t want it…”
Rowan’s head thunked back against the headboard, and he used his hand to guide James’ mouth toward his erection.
“Please,” he begged.
James couldn’t help his smile, and though Rowan was right—this was new for him—he didn’t feel apprehension at all. He was anxious about it being good, he wanted to be good for him, but even that wasn’t going to stop him. He got his hand around the base, then aimed the tip as he stuck out his tongue and lapped at the beading wetness. It was salty, a little sour, not entirely pleasant but certainly not the worst thing he’d ever tasted. The fact that it was Rowan made it better, made him want to keep going.
He took a breath through his nose, tucked his lips over his teeth, then gently sank down. He knew better than to push it, to stop when he felt like it was too much. The angle wasn’t easy, his stumps protesting at his position, and he started to wobble.
He lost his grip on Rowan’s dick, and the other man caught him before he topped to the side. “Fuck,” he growled, righting himself. “This shouldn’t be so hard.”
Rowan was looking at him, contemplating, then he nodded. “Right. I have an idea. Swap places with me.”
James’ brow furrowed, but he did as he was asked, not quite sure what Rowan was up to. If the other man meant to give him the blow job, he’d stop it. It wasn’t supposed to be about him right now. “What are you doing?” he finally asked as Rowan slipped out of his boxers and got to his knees, which were parted on either side of James’ thighs.
Rowan assessed his position, and with gentle urging, got James to shuffle down a little. “I’m going to feed you my cock,” Rowan said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world, “and I’m going to fuck your face.”
The words sent white-hot desire shooting up James’ spine, and he felt his dick leap to attention in his sleeping bottoms. He palmed himself even as he let Rowan urge his lips to part, as he slid a thumb into his mouth and let James suck at it the way he’d been sucking his cock before.
“So good,” Rowan said, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When he came to, he pulled his hand away, then rose as high as he could go. His dick was perfectly in line with James’ face, and James’ mouth fell open. Rowan held the side of his head with one hand, gripping the base of his dick with the other, and slowly sank into the warm heat of James’ mouth.
James groaned around the intrusion, a little overwhelmed by being so physically dominated, but he realized he didn’t hate it. He felt safe, cared for, loved—especially with the way Rowan was staring down at him like James was his entire world. He let his jaw relax further, urged Rowan to thrust i
n, to fuck his face. Rowan let loose small, punched-out noises as he pushed along James’ tongue, and he used his free hand to stroke at what didn’t fit.
James pulled his own cock out and began to stroke in a furious rhythm, too damn close to really have any finesse about it apart from hurtling toward the end. His head fell back a little, his entire body rocked by each one of Rowan’s thrusts, and he could feel the other man start to swell. He knew it was coming. He closed his lips and sucked hard at the tip when Rowan pulled almost all the way out, then he opened his throat as best he could as Rowan shoved forward and spilled into him.
James couldn’t help choking a bit, but he was distracted
by his own orgasm, taking him by surprise, ripping through his limbs as he shot all over his stomach and chest. His breath came in heaving gasps as he struggled to swallow it all down, and those were quieted by the soft, careful kisses Rowan rained down on his face.
As the ringing in his ears started to die down a little, he could hear Rowan murmuring soft words of praise against his flush-warm skin. “Beautiful, perfect, can’t get enough, god, love you.” James closed his eyes, basking in it, loving the heavy weight of Rowan falling against him and going completely boneless. It was the best sex he’d ever had, and he realized that, with Rowan, he’d be saying that a lot.
Chapter Twenty
Rowan didn’t quite know how to process what he was feeling. He was raw and ripped to shreds inside after just losing his mother, and yet with James at his side with a promise to stay, he felt like he was finally home. Guilt wracked him for allowing himself to feel anything good in that moment, but he reminded himself it’s what his mom wanted for him. She would have been beside herself if he had turned James away out of guilt for letting himself be happy, and he wanted to do right by her after all this.
So, there was no hesitation when he and James walked hand-in-hand to Rob’s office where the lawyer was waiting for them. For his part, Rob didn’t react much besides a curious glance, then he gestured to the two guest chairs in front of his desk.