Chapter Four

MELODY LOOKED at Joel in bemusement. “Well, that was a damned fool promise to make, estupido! It’s Thanksgiving. Have you not noticed all the damned planes is full? And it’s snowing. It’s not like they gonna get any less full, you know?”

Joel tried not to roll his eyes. He’d changed his clothes and showered, but the lapse of time hadn’t done anything to make the ticket situation on the computer look any better.

“Look, Mel, I don’t know what else to tell you. Ian has to put the damned cat down, and the cat was the only reason I thought I could leave him alone in the first place.”

Melody put her hands on her hips. “Is this the roommate that’s only your friend?”

“No, Mel,” Joel snapped, a little desperate. “This is the roommate that I’m totally in love with and I’m afraid for, because all he has in the world is me and a soon-to-be-dead cat! And I’m too stupid to hold on to him, and did I mention the dying cat?”

His face felt taut and cold, and he tried to tell himself that he was overstating things, but he couldn’t. If only…. Ian had needed to know that, if nothing else, Joel would always come home. Even if they weren’t going to be lovers, even if they were never meant to be lovers, Joel had become home to Ian, he’d become time, he’d become Ian’s anchor to reality, and he’d just- just left. Without a “I love you, man,” without a “Look, you know I’m coming back,” without even letting his guard down, even a little, and telling him face to face, “Take care of yourself for me, pappi. You what I’m coming home to, okay?”

Mel put her hand on Joel’s shoulder and interrupted what he dimly realized was a full-out spin into panic.

“Easy, Joey,” she murmured. “No worries, right? My ticket, it’s for tomorrow night. I stop in Sacramento. I’ll spend the day trying to get a flight from Sacto to L.A. right?”

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Joel said out of a dry throat. “There’s a lot of commuter flights in and out. You should be good.”

“Yeah,” Mel said, giving him a long hug and a laugh. “Wait ’til I tell the girls at work my brother is gay. I swear, my coolness will shoot up like a rocket!”

“Yeah,” Joel muttered into his sister’s shoulder, “you got cooler the minute I was born.”

“I knew that, pappi. You know I did.”

JOEL CALLED Ian in the morning and told him when his flight arrived. He called him from the airport and told him when it left and how long it would be in the air. He called when he landed, and Ian answered, “I know you’re here, mate. I’m at the baggage carousel, waiting for your shit.”

He sounded happy, Joel thought. He hoped it was true; he’d feel like a first-class asshole if he’d stolen his sister’s ticket and left his mother’s home early for a guy who wouldn’t even notice he was there.

But any doubts he would have had faded away when he saw Ian, slouching near the back of the baggage carousel, looking towards Joel’s gate.

Joel had the curious sensation of the chaos of the airport fading to a dull swish in his ears, and suddenly, the only person in the world was Ian. He was unaware that he was trotting at all possible speed, dodging luggage, children, and reuniting families, just so he could get there and see Ian smile.

It was blinding.

Their hug went on longer than was probably appropriate, but Joel didn’t give a ripe shit, not when Ian was there, warm, needing, and grateful.

They released, but Ian kept his arms around Joel’s back, and Joel didn’t pull away. “You know,” he said, looking somewhere else, “you didn’t have to do that. You did tell your sister thank you for me?”

“Tell her yourself. She’s sleeping on the couch for Christmas,” Joel said with a soft smile.

Ian blinked, befuddled. “Why would she want to do that?” he asked. Together they saw Joel’s bag and moved toward it, Ian’s arm still looped around Joel’s shoulders. Joel refused to comment about the arm. Ian’s casual touch was sustaining him, anchoring him to the world, making all those revelations he’d had about Ian when he was alone in his child’s bed seem real and solid and true.

“I’ll tell you later,” Joel said, hoping that by then, Ian would still want it to be true. Ian snagged his bag—those amazing muscles managing the entire case without benefit of wheels—and together they headed outside and across the street to Ian’s little Prius.

When they’d loaded up, Ian hesitated for a minute before turning the keys in the ignition.

“How’s Manky Bastard?” Joel asked quietly into the silence. It was the one thing Ian hadn’t talked about, and the one thing Joel was pretty sure he knew the answer to.

“In a vase on the mantel,” Ian replied, his voice catching.

Joel put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, pappi. I’m sorry she had to die. I’m really sorry it had to be when I was gone.”

Ian nodded, looking determinedly to outside his window. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said softly. “I just… I just hope, you know… you don’t… you won’t think….” Ian looked at him, helplessly, waving his hands and sniffling, wiping his face on the back of his hands and looking embarrassed about that.

“Ian—”

“I took care of her, Joel. I can take care of another one, honest! I can take care of myself, I swear. I just don’t want you to….” He trailed off, and Joel unbuckled his seatbelt and turned, grabbing Ian’s shoulders and shaking him a little.

“Ian… pappi, you need to calm down. I know you can take care of yourself. I know you took care of her. Why is this so important? You’re not—” Oh Christ! This thought didn’t even bear thinking about but he had to say it anyway. “You’re not thinking, you know, that you don’t need a roommate no more, are you?”

Ian shook his head. “No, no, mate. I’m just worried….” Ian’s face crumpled like a little kid’s and suddenly he was sobbing in Joel’s arms. “I just thought the only reason you stayed was because of the caaaaaaaaattt….”

In spite of himself, Joel found he was laughing quietly into Ian’s hair. “No, Ian. No. I’m not leaving, I promise, pappi. You can’t shake me that easy. Shhh. Shhhh.”

Ian pulled himself together eventually, but not before Joel got a wonderful muscular armload of despondent Aussie genius.

“I’m sorry,” Ian sniffled, wiping his face on his shoulder and pulling on his belt again. “You’re going to think I’m some sort of hormonal poofty queen. I’m not like this. I- I think the only times I’ve ever cried in my life are around you.”

“Lucky me,” Joel said softly, meaning it. “Look, Ee, let’s get home, eh? I’m tired, I been stuck in that tin-can most half of the day, and I probably smell like monkey ass. I want to sit on the couch witchu, talk some.” He wanted to lean on him, stroke his chest, kiss his blond, stubbled cheek, feel his heart under a circling palm. “You know,” Joel finished weakly, “reconnect, right, pappi?”

“Joel?” Ian said, after he’d started the car and maneuvered to the freeway on ramp.

“Yeah, Ee?”

“You know you’re wearin’ your accent on your sleeve, right, mate?”

“That’s ’cause I’m home witchu, pappi. Don’t ever doubt it.”

The twenty-minute ride home was pretty quiet after that, the rain that had threatened the skies as Joel landed staving off until they arrived. Eventually Joel was bathed, wearing a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt, and sitting on the couch with a new afghan his mom had sent home with him. Ian grabbed him a soda from the fridge (Joel had taken pains to not keep any beer in there) and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. Together they looked at the little black vase over the mantle on the purple colored wall, and Joel nudged Ian with his bare toe.

“Can I say I’m sorry again?”

“No,” Ian replied with a self-deprecating smile. “I might cry again, and that would suck for us both, now wouldn’t it?”

“Can I tell you I’m really glad to be home?” Joel poked Ian’s thigh again and was rewarded when Ee slid his long-fingered hand up Joel’s calf.

“I’m glad you’re back.” Ian’s gaze—that spring-blue, wild-sky gaze—was suddenly very sharp and very focused on Joel, sitting back in his worn T-shirt and his gray sweats. Outside, the rainstorm that had threatened since Joel got off the plane suddenly spattered the windows, and Ian looked away from Joel’s searching eyes and turned that way.

“It threatens to get nasty out there,” he said inanely.

“No worries, pappi. All we need to do in the next two days is go get milk tomorrow. I got all of Thanksgiving in the cupboards. I even bought some new placemats and napkins and shit.”

Ian’s next look was simple and direct, pure and full of gratitude. “It sounds nice, but you know. Why? I- I’m dying to have Thanksgiving with you. And Christmas, too, if you must know the truth, but why? You take such good care of me, and I can’t even keep….” He looked up at the mantel, and they both knew how he’d finish that sentence.

If Joel had expected Ian to simply pick up on all his unspoken cues, he’d been living with the wrong man for the last five months. With a sigh, he swung his legs over, sat up, and then moved in closer to Ian than they usually sat. “I like taking care of you, Ee,” he said into the rain-spattered quiet. “I like knowing you’re going to be happy. I like knowing I’m, you know, your anchor to the world.”

“I’m a colossal asshole, brother. I’ve got all this high-level shit in my head, and nothing real,” Ian said, rolling his eyes at himself, but Joel wouldn’t listen to that.

“No, no, Ee. You’re amazing. You’re smart, and you’re funny. You’ve got a heart as big as the sky, you know that? You don’t need a roommate. You just took me in ’cause I liked the apartment—”

“I took you in because I wanted to get in your pants,” Ian supplied crossly, and Joel’s grin made Ian blink.

“Yeah? You never made a move!”

Ian shrugged. “You don’t swing that way. And besides…” Ian looked at his bedroom, with its king-sized bed and it’s jumbo cluttered computer desk, and then he looked back, meeting Joel’s eyes with a resigned expression. “Everybody I slept with ran away in the morning. I- I’d do almost anything to keep you from running away.”

Oh God. Joel leaned close and rubbed his thumb on Ian’s lean bottom lip. “Brother, I’ve got news for you,” he said quietly, hoping he could treasure the awestruck, worshipful expression on Ian’s face forever.

“Yeah?” Ian leaned closer, and Joel could smell him underneath shampoo and deodorant and… was that cologne? It didn’t matter. He still smelled earthy and human and real.

“I do swing that way. And I just invited my sister to stay with us for Christmas so she could meet you and make sure you were worth her plane ticket. I have no intention of running away from you, Ee.”

“Why would she want to meet me?” Ian asked, and he was close enough to bump noses with, so Joel did, rubbing the smooth part of his cheek along Ian’s stubbled one, feeling the silk of Ian’s breath on his face.

“Because I love you, and she wants to welcome you to the family.” It was bold. It was probably insane. But it was the truth, and if Ian kicked him out for it now, Joel would know it was never meant to be.

Ian kissed him.

Their lips met, met again, and Joel opened his mouth, letting Ian inside. He tasted like Dr Pepper and… and just like Ian. All of that joy, all of the kindness, all of the earthy humanity, all there on Joel’s tongue for the tasting.

Joel groaned and pulled Ian closer, tangling his fingers in that halo of blond hair just like he’d imagined doing, pulling Ian on top of him, loving his friend’s weight, pinning him to the couch.

Ian moved his kisses to Joel’s neck, and Joel’s head fell back as he made an “ahh ahh” sound, and then that mouth, eager, questing, fascinated by the texture of Joel’s skin, continued on. With some shifting Joel found he was bare-chested, and Ian’s big hands were spanning his chest, rubbing his nipples, stroking the tender flesh of his abdomen.

Ian paused for a minute then and peered into Joel’s face owlishly. “Mate, uhm, just how long have you swung this way?”

Joel’s smile was a little embarrassed. “Probably forever,” he muttered, thinking about his sister’s astute assessment of his love life. “But I’ve only really known since I jerked off in my old bed, dreaming of you,” he finished. Ian grinned and then looked thoughtful. “Why?”

“Because now I know what you’ve done and what you haven’t, and what I’m going to do next.”

“Ian, you don’t even know how you’re going to get to work.”

Ian shook his head. “This is different, mate. I’ve been dreaming of this for months. I’ll be damned if I bollix it up now.”

And then, as though he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head to Joel’s chest and opened his mouth over a tanned nipple and suckled, and Joel arched against him, hard and needy.

“Oh God, Ian, Ian?” Because Ian kept kissing down to Joel’s tender stomach. He kept kissing while Joel arched his hips to give better access to pull down the gray sweats, and then he kissed down the trail of black fur from Joel’s navel to his— “Oh God… Ian!”

Ian was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. With an open mouth, he engulfed Joel’s cock and pushed his lips all the way down until they touched the dark, curly hair at the root, and he stayed there for a moment, swallowing to make it fit.

Joel’s fingers stayed tangled in that surprisingly soft hair, and he moaned in the back of his throat and tried not to squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure. Ian pulled back up his shaft, sucking as he went and swirling his tongue around the broad, purpling head. Joel thought his eyeballs were going to pop out of his skull, and then he thought he was going to scream, and maybe die, and love every minute of it.

“Mmmmm… God… oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…” and then he didn’t have anything to say at all, because he was coming, spurting into the back of Ian’s mouth, and Ian was still swallowing, letting just enough hot spend dribble out of his mouth to make Joel’s prick sloppy and slick and sexy.

Joel’s head flopped limply on the back of the couch, and Ian pulled himself up and peered down with as smug expression as Joel had ever seen.

“You’re looking pretty damned proud of yourself, you know that?” Joel chuckled, stroking the hair back from Ian’s temple.

“It’s a limited skill set for a bloke,” Ian said with dignity, and Joel laughed.

“Well, you’re a master of it, pappi. If I didn’t love you already, I’d stay with you for the blow jobs alone.”

Ian’s eyes grew anxious, and Joel cupped his face, glad that he could. Ian looked anxious far too often. Joel’s new job was going to be to erase that pinched look from his eyes as often as possible.

“You do love me? Really?”

Joel lifted up and kissed him, tasting his own spend and not caring. “Yeah, Ee. I do.”

“I think you could be the only person ever to love me. And I love you back.” Ian kissed him again, deeper, stronger, and Joel lost himself in the kiss, in the knowledge that Ian needed him—not to keep his house or buy his food or set his schedule, but just to love him. Maybe it was all Ian had ever wanted.

It had been a long day, and they went to bed shortly after that. Joel lay in Ian’s arms and kissed him again, and again, and harder, until Ian pulled back and said, “No. We’re not doing that tonight.”

“We’re not?” Joel asked, a little amused and a lot tired.

“It needs to be good. I want to be awake, and I need to know you’ll be here in the morning.”

Joel might have been hurt at that, but then, so many people had failed Ian. Joel understood the impulse to make sure this was real before they took it all the way. He settled down in Ian’s bed, feeling strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and listening to a man’s breathing in the dark and smiled a little to himself.

It was real. And it would be there in the morning.