Jodi knew. Despite Rupert’s soft approach, he hadn’t hidden how much he wanted Jodi. Couldn’t, with his dick digging into Jodi with every grind and roll. “I don’t know how to do it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, seriously, I don’t. I mean, I knowwhatto do, I just don’t know how to make it good.”
“Ah, see I thought that too when we first met. Thought I’d put your dick in my mouth and start chewing it by mistake, I was so feckin’ nervous.”
Jodi laughed, couldn’t help it. Rupert’s way with words was something else. “So what did you do? ’Cause I’m sure even I would remember someone taking a bite out of my dick.”
“Very funny,” Rupert deadpanned. “If you must know, you told me to treat your dick like my own, and you were right. Once I’d got myself in that mindset, it wasn’t as alien and terrifying as I thought, and it all kinda clicked.”
Treat it like my own.Jodi closed his eyes and called on the clandestine occasions he’d pleasured himself in the weeks before he’d come to realise his desire for Rupert was everything he was missing. Pictured every squeeze, every twist, and combined the memories with the more recent ones he had of Rupert doing it for him—his strong, warm grip and devilish tongue.I can do this.
Jodi opened his eyes and moved down Rupert’s body, absorbing Rupert’s sharp gasp.Here goes nothing ...
* * *
A few days andmanymutual orgasms later, Jodi found himself home alone. Rupert was on his mind, as ever, but with him at work until morning, Jodi was trying to keep busy.
For the most part, he’d succeeded, but it was early evening now. He’d been to his appointments, done all his exercises, and run out of things to clean. He’d even managed to reheat the curry he and Rupert had cooked together the day before without burning the place down, though it had crossed his mind that such a thing would bring Rupert home quicker than the end of his shift.
Idiot.
Jodi closed the dishwasher with a thump. Though eating as much as Rupert wanted him to was hard going, making dinner with him had become one of Jodi’s favourite things to do. By all accounts he used to be good at cooking, and these days, muddling through, using every pan in the kitchen to make chicken madras, was almost as much fun as relearning some of the other skills he’d forgotten.
Skills. Ha.Heat bloomed in Jodi’s gut. He drifted to the living room, recalling Rupert’s gravelly moan when he’d come from Jodi’s touch that morning, and the night before, and the night before that. Treating Rupert’s dick like his own had turned out to be easier than he’d imagined, and making Rupert come? Watching him, entranced by him, absorbing every breath and groan? Damn. Beautiful didn’t quite cut it anymore. Who knew having another man’s cock in his mouth could be so fucking magical?
Rupert, apparently—
Stop thinking about sex.
In an effort to distract himself, Jodi bypassed the couch and the nap he could’ve done with and went into the office. He sat in front of the iMac and tapped the keyboard to activate it. Like his laptop, the screen flashed to life with a photograph of Rupert, this time sitting on a wall in full fire gear, helmet and all, smeared in soot and grime, drinking from a grubby mug while he spoke with another firefighter whose face Jodi couldn’t see. It was obvious neither man had been aware of the photograph being taken, and Jodi wondered how the image had come to be on his computer. The logical answer, that he’d taken it himself, was equal parts embarrassing and amusing.
Looks like I really was the creepy one.
Jodi launched the web design software he’d been trying to reacquaint himself with, and Rupert and his mystery friend were swallowed up by toolbars and coding widgets. He studied the project he’d been working on—a contract Sophie had told him he’d lost when he’d dropped off the map after the accident. The brief, as far as Jodi could tell, had been to build an innovative site for the company’s new line of pop-up tents. The brand was aimed at children, and Jodi’s initial take on the project, started nearly a year ago, had been a minimalist black-and-white effort with few avenues for users to do more than add products to baskets and pay.
It hadn’t struck Jodi as very innovative or imaginative. He didn’t know much about children, but he thought of Indie and his mind filled with colour, possibility, and light. Question was, how did he translate that into a functional website without giving himself a migraine?
He spent a few hours trying to find out, until he ran into a coding wall he couldn’t guess his way around. It happened from time to time, and he’d learned the only solution was to admit defeat and look it up.
Didn’t make it any less frustrating, though. He pushed his chair back from the computer and scanned the shelves behind him, searching for the book he’d apparently once told Rupert was his tech bible. It wasn’t where he thought he remembered putting it. He searched the shelf below and the one above, but came up blank. Then his gaze fell on a flowery book that was so drastically out of place with the tech magazines and software manuals lining the shelves, Jodi couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.
He plucked the book from the shelf and turned it over in his hands. It appeared to be a photo album. He flipped through a few pages. Images of Rupert and him stared back at him. Jodi sat, turning to the beginning. A child’s—Indie’s—scrawl covered the page.
Dear Daddy and Jodi,
Here is your anniversary present. Auntie Sophie helped me make it. Daddy, you need to smile bigger. Jodi is beating you. Lots of love and crunchy cuddles, Indie (and Auntie Sophie) xxx
Crunchy cuddles? Jodi was officially mystified, but that was quickly forgotten as a snap of him and Rupert, taken somewhere in the city—Hyde Park, according to Indie—caught his attention. The photo was dated June 2010, six months after he and Rupert had met, and given how they were stretched out on the grass with their arms around each other, it was clear they’d already been madly in love.
Jodi turned a page, and another, and another, and discovered a timeline of images that plainly showed the love and life he and Rupert had shared. His chest tightened, and he thought he would cry, but instead of tears came laughter and a smile so wide he thought his face might split. He’d loved Rupert then, and he loved him still. The remnants of their broken dreams lay scattered all around, and were laid bare on the glossy pages of the photo album, but what remained was something beautiful, and for the first time he could remember, he felt proud of who they’d been then, and who they were now.
We really are going to be okay.
Jodi shut the album with a yawn that made his jaw pop. He checked the time. It was after midnight. Shit, how had that happened? He stood up. The room tilted a little, like it often did when he was overtired, and the warning throb of an impending headache buzzed down the side of his face.Great.Time for bed and a handful of codeine.
He took the drugs and went to the bedroom, scanning the shelves for any other errant photo albums he hadn’t yet noticed. There were none. He tried under the bed, remembering a large plastic box that, in his haste to hoover like a madman a few weeks ago, he’d forgotten to open. The box rattled as he pulled it towards him. Intrigued, he lifted the lid. A traffic cone–sized dildo, amongst other ... things, greeted him.
