TWELVE

 

After the second time in two days that Will had gotten laid after literally years of nothing, Judah had passed out in his bed again. Maybe it had been a while for Will, but this was the first time for all of this for Judah, and he needed to keep that in mind. It was easy to forget sometimes, because Judah was such a fast learner, and because he so obviously loved everything that they had done together, but Judah had worn himself out completely.

Will was pleasantly winded, but not quite ready to go back to sleep, so he just settled down in bed, one arm wrapped around Judah’s warm, heavy, dozing body, the other holding a book that he propped up on his thigh. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position ever, but at the same time, he never would have considered moving.

As sappy as it was, he felt like he was holding something very precious against himself. For the first time, he thought he understood what people meant when they talked about love, real love, that you would do anything for.

It was terrifying because there had been no talk of what future there could be for them. Really no chance of a future at all, but that couldn’t seem to stop Will from wanting one. In a lot of ways, it didn’t seem that impossible, not when he really looked at it. Stephen adored Judah, and would probably be thrilled to have him around more.

Will would even be happy to be with Judah openly, and if anyone didn’t like it … but there was where the train of thought derailed because it wasn’t like it was the members of the town that he cared about. It was Judah, who had told him, as clear as anything, that this could never be anything but a secret. Will couldn’t do that, not again. He couldn’t be with anyone who was ashamed to be with him.

So things would stay as they were, Will figured. They were good right now, so why push it, why force Judah to say again that he didn’t want anything serious? Why put his heart on the line when it was just not possible that it could ever be anything else? Better to try, for once, to live in the moment, to enjoy something for what it was.

Beside him, his phone, plugged in to charge, lit up, and then it started to vibrate. Luckily, he had turned the ringtone off, or else it certainly would have woken Judah up, but it still could if he didn’t grab it. So he carefully, slowly, pulled his arm from around Judah and then reached over to snag the phone just before he knew it would stop ringing and go to his voicemail.

He was in such a hurry that he didn’t even check to see who it was. If he had, he probably, no, most definitely, wouldn’t have answered it at all. But hindsight was always 20/20, and though he wished that he had taken the half second to glance at his call display, he hadn’t.

“Hello?” he spoke very softly, but Judah stirred, his face discontent suddenly. A gentle wash of that same sweet, protective feeling came over Will again, and he grabbed his robe and thrust it on as he headed out of the room, phone still held to his ear.

“Why are you being so quiet? Is someone there?”

That voice, after ten years, seemed to break right into his heart. There had been a time where he probably would have done anything to hear this voice again, but that time had long ago passed. Now, it just made him feel like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

Will peeked in briefly on Judah, saw him stir, then lapse back down into a deeper sleep. He closed his eyes, then shut the door carefully and padded through the house, his knees shaking, having to force himself to move.

“Jack.”

Once, if Jack had called him, Will knew that he stupidly would have gone running back to him. That had changed, but it still didn’t make sense. Why was Jack calling, after so long? Why would he stroll into Will’s life again, and right when things were finally starting to go well, if a bit confusingly?

“Hey,” Jack spoke quietly, and Will could almost swear that he heard traces of emotion in his voice. “It’s been a while, I guess. How’s it going?”

“How’s it going? How’s it going? You’ve been gone for ten years, Jack,” Will said, only barely managing to keep himself from raising his voice. He walked through the house, into the living room, and flopped down on the couch. “You can’t just call me like nothing happened and …”

“Woah. Calm down,” Jack spoke the words in the same, slightly amused, slightly irritated tone that he had used so many times before with Will, the one that had always infuriated him and time had done nothing to soften that. “I had to get away. It was just a lot of pressure, you know?”

“In about five seconds,” Will almost whispered the words, but he could hear his voice shaking with anger. To have mourned and rebuilt his life, and now to listen to Jack minimize all of that, it was more than he could take. “I’m going to hang up the phone. So if you have a point, you’d better get to it. Fast.”

There was a pause like Jack was trying to figure out how serious Will was, and then the other man sighed. When he spoke again, a lot of the mocking, much to Will’s surprise, had left his voice.

“Okay. Sorry. I mean, that’s really what I called to say. Sorry.” Jack was almost muttering the words, which actually made them sound more sincere. How many times had Jack, with a smirk and a cocky tilt to his head, apologized in a way that was obviously insincere?

“You’re sorry,” Will echoed, and Jack paused, and then continued on.

“I know it’s not enough. I don’t really have an excuse. I was scared then. Things have changed. I’ve been through a lot of counseling. Just got out of rehab, actually.”

Will shut his eyes, fighting down the strange urge that his stomach had just to rise up his throat and jump out of his mouth. Or that was what it felt like, anyway. This would have, once, been a dream come true. Now, it just felt like something that he really didn’t want to deal with.

“What do you want, Jack? Is this a money thing?” Will asked.

“I guess I deserve that,” Jack finally spoke up again. “But no. I wanted to know how our son is doing.”

Our son. Our son. The words echoed in Will’s head because Stephen was not biologically related to Jack at all. It had been Will who had scraped together the money to have Stephen through a surrogate, and it had been Will who had taken care of him ever since. That was more to the point. The genetic thing would have been no issue at all for Will if Jack had been around and had been anything like a father to Stephen.

“Stephen,” Will put a slight emphasis on the name. He wasn’t sure that he accepted Jack as his co-parent, and why should he? Sure, that had been the plan fifteen years ago, before Stephen was born, but things had changed since then. “Is fine. Look, Jack. What’s this about? I’ve moved on.”

Damn it. He had, too. He had found a life, a job, and now he’d found Judah. Maybe it wasn’t much of a life to some people, but he was pretty happy with it.

“I want to see you,” Jack murmured, and there was a hint of warmth to his voice, or was that just Will’s imagination? “And Stephen, too, if you’ll let me.”

Will hesitated. For himself, he would have easily, without hesitation, said no way in hell. But Stephen, did he have the right to make that decision for the kid? On the other hand, what happened if Jack wasn’t sincere and came back into their lives and broke Stephen’s undoubtedly sensitive heart?

“Jack …” Will’s voice was deeply uncertain, and he didn’t even try to hide it. It would be much easier if Jack just decided, all on his own, to walk away now, and given how good Jack was at walking away, Will didn’t even think it was that unlikely.

“I’m just asking that you meet with me in person.” Jack’s voice didn’t waver, which was sort of strange for him. “There’s a lot that I’d like to say to you while looking into your eyes. I have to apologize, really apologize, and that’s going to be easier in person.”

Will didn’t owe Jack any of this, did he? When he thought about it, he was pretty sure that he, as the injured party originally, had no reason at all to give Jack the time of day. The conversation that they had already had was more than Jack deserved.

But then there was Stephen, and that complicated the fuck out of things. Stephen had been four when Jack had just simply walked out, and for a while, Stephen had been devastated. Could he really make this call for his son? On the other hand, could he really risk Jack breaking Stephen’s heart all over again?

He just didn’t know enough. It was really a simple process, he knew. He just needed to detach his heart from this, engage his scientific brain. He needed to gather more evidence, to watch, to wait before he could make any serious decisions.

“I’ll meet with you,” Will decided abruptly. “But probably only once, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”

If there had been the faintest hint of triumph in Jack’s voice, Will probably would have changed his mind right then and there, but there wasn’t.

“My hopes are sometimes all that got me through rehab,” Jack told him, his voice somber. “I’m not going to give them up just yet.”

On that note, Jack hung up the phone, and Will softly snorted as he stared down at his cell, shaking his head a little bit. In some ways, at least, Jack certainly hadn’t changed. He still seemed to feel the need to have the last word, and he was pretty good at getting it.

Had Jack gone to rehab? Had he stopped drinking? The alcohol had honestly been the biggest issue between the two of them when they’d been together, and even now, with the separation of years, Will found that he couldn’t help but hope that it was true.

It wouldn’t change anything, of course. Will was not available, certainly not to Jack. That ship had sailed a long time ago, but Jack had once meant a lot to Will.

His screen went dark, and slowly, Will lowered his arm and set the phone on the coffee table. What had he done? What had he agreed to? Nothing but a meeting, really no big deal. He had even outright told Jack that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Never, not in a million years, would there ever be even the faintest chance of Will taking Jack back.

Did Jack even want that, though? Will shook his head as he wandered into the kitchen, starting some coffee brewing, just for something to do with his hands. Unfortunately, that didn’t help his mind, and it kept whirling, spinning around this problem, picking at it and trying to make it all somehow make sense.

People didn’t just walk into his life after ten years, apologizing for the wrongs which had been done. It just didn’t happen. And honestly, it was probably better that way.

Still, he would meet with Jack, in a public place, and he would hear what he had to say. Then, he would have the information that he needed, and he would have a talk with Stephen if Jack somehow managed to satisfy him that it was a good idea for him to take that risk.

There wasn’t even a good chance of that, and Will started to calm himself down as he went through the familiar motions of putting in the filter, filling the appropriate places with ground coffee and water. Yes, he was calming down, though his hands were still shaking.

Even the fact that he knew that there was nothing to be afraid of didn’t help him much. He had agreed to one meeting, and only one, and he would definitely not be stupid enough to go anywhere in private with Jack. He had well and thoroughly learned his lesson when it came to Jack.

Still, he couldn’t help but remember one thing that he didn’t think had changed. Jack was good at getting his way. He was charming, and he could seem so damn sincere sometimes that it could break Will’s heart. Wasn’t it possible that that was exactly what was happening here? That he was being played, manipulated, by someone that he knew full well was damn good at that particular game?

Yes, he was going to have to be very careful with this situation. Navigate it cautiously, but luckily, he had gotten a lot better at that in the past decade. If Jack did try to manipulate Will, then Jack would find it a fair bit more difficult than it had been the last time he’d tried.