The Brotherhood - Single White Fang Part 7

"Nope." Jory's voice grew thoughtful. "Whoever Nicky is, he's proud. Didn't want to take the free stuff, you know? All he wanted was to 'earn' his dinner. We tried to guide him to a teen shelter, but he wouldn't hear a word about that. He said he doesn't take charity. You can't help some people."

David heard the covers shift again; that would be Jory turning over onto one hip. "Glad you're letting me in."

David rested his head on the couch arm and grinned, letting his happiness color his voice. "How could I not? I love the way you ask." The bold words were still a shock to him; every time he said something he wouldn't have said before he'd met Jory was a surprise. The words were worth it, though, to earn a chuckle from the man.

If he wasn't in love already, David knew he was falling fast. Impulsively, he asked, "Hey, do you want to come over?"

"Now?" David could almost see Jory blinking as he tried to focus on his watch. "It's only three-thirty-five. I still need to sleep."

"Please?" David moved again, a little uncomfortable. This was the first time he'd really asked something of Jory, and it kind of mattered what he decided. "I'd just like to see you in the light of day for a change."

"You have no idea how much I want that, too." Jory fell silent for a moment. "What's going on?"

David squirmed. "Nothing ... yet."

"Oh, now that's nice and vague." Jory chuckled. "Could something be going on if I came over?"

"Possibly. I was going to make spaghetti. We could try eating it like those two dogs in that cartoon, Lady and the Tramp."

Jory paused again. His voice was warm when he spoke again, his admiration clear. "You really have come a long way. The David I met at the Fest wouldn't have thrown innuendoes at me like darts."

"Am I close to the bullseye?"

"Dead center. I so wish I could be there."

"Then come. I mean, unless you really do need more sleep."

"Like I could go back to my naughty dreams when there's reality in the offering? No way. Let me just look outside and see what the weather's like, okay?"

David frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Er, the car's temperamental. She doesn't like to run when it's too hot."

"No problem, then. The weather's gorgeous. Just around seventy."

"Gorgeous weather." Jory didn't sound happy. "That apartment building of yours still has the covered porch, right?"

"G.o.d, it's not like you have to sneak in. After the first time you were here, people were congratulating me the next day.

You're really loud, you know?"

"And you're not?" David heard, faintly, the rattle of blinds being raised. "Huh. Looks like a storm might be kicking up."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. No! That's actually good. I like rain. Especially a good rain where it turns the skies almost dark as night. Clouds hide the sun. That's a bonus."

"Jeez, man. You really have to get out in the light some time. I know you're pale, but I promise you won't go up in flames."

"Yeah. See, about that ..." Jory paused. "Never mind. I don't like it, that's all. I'm so used to living in the dark that I don't like being exposed to sunlight."

"There go my plans of a picnic lunch at a beach."

"I'm serious, you." All the same, David could hear Jory chuckling. "All right. It's clouding up pretty good. I'll be over there soon."

"Jory, are you really that bad about daylight?"

"It's kind of like the boy in the bubble. Except, I'm not so much a boy anymore, and I don't have a bubble."

"Are you allergic to the sun?" David grew concerned. Jory didn't always let him know when something was too much. "I mean, if you really can't ..." "Hush up. I'll be there in just a few." Jory hesitated. "Hey, David? I love you. Just remember that, okay?"

David pulled back from the phone, startled. Sure, they'd said the words before, but for Jory to repeat them out of the blue ... He couldn't believe his ears. "What?"

"I said, I love you. Make me say it a third time and I'm going to wear a skirt over there. You emasculate me."

"Can't have that." David cleared his throat. "I think I might love you, too. Should that be dresses for two? I think I can get us a bargain at the plus-size outlet."

"Hey!"

"No fat jokes, I know." David brushed his thumb against the handset. "Come on over, Jory. I want to see you."

"On my way." There was a click as Jory disconnected. David didn't mind his not saying goodbye. Just another Jory quirk.

The man had a fancy cell, but it looked nearly untouched, as if he barely used it. Just for work, he'd said.

All the same, he hadn't given David any other numbers.

David frowned thoughtfully for another moment, then got up and headed back into his kitchen. He could at least have the sauce started when Jory got there. If they got ... distracted ... it could simmer for a while. He closed his eyes for a second, thinking about the ways they could possibly lose track of time.

Had he ever been this happy? Not that he could remember. Jory made his life complete. And if things weren't perfect all the time -- if Jory had problems with daytime visits and if they couldn't always come together on the spur of the moment like they'd done one hundred percent that first night at the Fest -- well, he could cope. Relationships took time to work out all the kinks. Jory didn't seem like he planned on going anywhere.

Good, neither did David. They could figure each other out in time. All that mattered for the moment was learning what made each other tick. Like an old watch with dozens of springs and levers and gears. Learn how it worked, and you had something reliable. Or so he'd learned from watching daytime TV. In real life, who knew? It wasn't like he had much experience to draw from. Made sense, though.

David nodded decisively as he picked up the pasta recipe. Did he have all the ingredients? He thought so. Tomatoes, red wine, garlic ... He might not have the garlic.

Diving into his refrigerator, he was rewarded by finding a small plastic bag with four full cloves in it. "Gotcha," he exclaimed softly. He spun the bag open, humming to himself. "This is going to be a night to remember."

The phone rang again. "Don't you want somebody to love," David sang to himself, walking over to grab it. "Don't you need somebody to love?" He picked it up with a grin. "Hey, hon. Did you forget something?"

"Since when am I your honey?" a familiar voice, cheeky as a chipmunk, asked.

David felt himself going bright red. "Christian. Oh, c.r.a.p. I'm sorry. I was --"

"Expecting someone else? David, you're probably the color of a stop light right now. Cut it out. Look, I wondered if you could work a favor for me."

"If it's something I can do, sure." David tucked the phone under his ear and headed back to his kitchen. "What's up?"

"I need you to go to Micah's with me."

David almost dropped the phone. "You need me to what with who?"

"Micah." Christian sounded desperately unhappy. "It's more along the line of a royal summons. He wants to teach us how to dress and to help him pick out what to wear tonight."

David frowned. "Us? The ones he calls fashion-challenged every single chance he gets?"

"Yep, that'd be our Micah and, no, I don't know why. But, man, you've got to help me out. I can't face him all by myself.

Please, David. Do a guy a favor."

David made a face. He didn't like Micah one bit. There was some good deep down in everyone -- he believed that pretty firmly -- but with Micah it would take a lot of digging. Still, Christian was his pal, and he couldn't let him down. "Okay, but give me a couple hours, will you? I've got someone coming over."

Christian's laughter rippled like water. The kid really did have a great voice. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this secret, man. You've got a hush-hush squeeze on the side. Liam would s.h.i.t himself if he knew you didn't need this whole trip to Amour Magique."

"I don't think Liam would put it that way, but maybe." David checked the clock. He winced, wishing Micah had chosen some other sitting duck to shoot at. "Seven o'clock?" That'd give him wiggle room in case he and Jory got really busy.

As it was, he'd have to hurry. But he couldn't let Christian down. The kid needed someone to help him out, not just with this, but with life in general. He seemed so lost, as if he was searching for something he hadn't found yet and was losing hope that he ever would. David pretty much understood that state of mind. After all, hadn't he been in the same boat before he found Jory?

Speaking of which ... he heard a car pull up outside. David hurried to his window and looked down at the covered carport, but the blue vehicle peeking out wasn't Jory's little red Beetle. Its windows were almost completely blacked out. David whistled.

He hadn't realized it was legal to get them that dark.

Shame it wasn't Jory already. Well, as far as David knew, Jory didn't live that close anyway. He hadn't been over to his lover's place yet. He'd asked if they could go there once, but Jory had demurred, calling his place a bachelor's mess. David had teased him about the romance of cluttered trailers as opposed to a bas.e.m.e.nt studio, but Jory had just gone for the gold and kissed him quiet.

He'd sort of forgotten the question after that.

Still, as he took plump red tomatoes out of the crisper, David frowned again. Why didn't Jory want him at his home? Surely he wasn't hiding anything? Jory couldn't keep a secret to save his life -- David felt pretty sure about that. His face betrayed everything he was thinking. Like ... love.

David put the tomatoes down on his chopping block, his mind a thousand miles away. Or, actually, a few dozen, just outside of town, in a trailer. Had it been love right from the start? He kind of thought so. He and Jory had been made to be together.

You thought that about Tommy, too, Simon's lawyer-voice warned him. Be careful, David.

He considered the thought for a second, then mentally ordered his guardian angel to take a long jump off a short pier.

Maybe this was insanity, but if it was, he liked being crazy. Singing to himself again, he flicked on the radio and was absurdly pleased when the song matched up.

A knock sounded at the door. Jory already? Frowning, David brushed his hands off on his jeans and went to answer it.

Couldn't be, for sure. Had to be a neighbor or someone wanting to borrow a cup of sugar -- did people still do that? Lost in his thoughts, he swung the door open -- -- and there was Jory, looking disheveled, as if he'd been running. His face was lit up with a huge grin, though, as he reached for David and swung him into a kiss. David melted right away, just like chocolate on a sunny day. Dragging Jory in with him, he shut the apartment door.

"Can I come in?" Jory asked when he backed off. "I know, I know, I don't have to ask."

"You? You can always come in." David gave him another kiss, soft and lingering. "How'd you get here so fast?"

"I flew," Jory joked, shrugging off his light jacket. The clothes he wore underneath were rumpled, as if he'd forgotten to fold his laundry and just tossed them all into a pile when they came out of the dryer. David knew the look well.

Not that he minded, of course. It was all gift wrapping as far as he was concerned. What was underneath mattered more.

Speaking of which ... "You're pink," he said, puzzled. "Did you get sunburned?"

Jory shrugged. "I told you I wasn't used to the sun," he muttered. "I got a little toasty, yeah."

David flicked a glance out the door to the covered carport. No sign of the Beetle. "Did you drive a blue sedan?"

"Yeah. Borrowed it off a friend. The Bug has a bug, I think." Jory rubbed the back of his neck. "Kind of hard to drive with all that stuff on the windows but, hey, it was better than nothing, and it got me here, didn't it?"

And that was what was important. David took Jory's hand and squeezed it. "Are you too tender for touching?" he asked. "I could get some aloe vera."

"Don't need anything but you." Jory reached for David, the gesture easy and comfortable. He'd had practice, after all.

David backed away. "This isn't a booty call," he said, fumbling slightly over the words. "I mean -- it's not all about s.e.x, Jory. I just wanted your company."

Jory shrugged. "You can have my company," he said, closing the distance between them again. "I'd like it if we shared the s.p.a.ce in bed, though."

"Horndog," David accused, but with a smile. "Seriously, Jory."

"I know." Jory cupped David's cheek with one hand. "You wanted to cook? Let's get with it." He turned toward the kitchen, then stopped as if a huge hand had slapped him back. "Whoa. Talk about garlic."

"Yeah. I was about to put some in the press for a spaghetti dinner." David froze. "s.h.i.t. You're allergic, aren't you?"

Jory was backing away, his pink face going an unhealthy shade of crimson. "Really very," he said, voice thick and choked.

"Could you -- please -- toss that out the window? Maybe now?"

David didn't hesitate. Opening his kitchen shutters, he tossed out the bulbs, then washed his hands in the sink. "Jory, you should have said."

"No. David, don't. I'll be fine." Jory tugged at the neck of his T-shirt. "I'll be okay. Promise." "You're sure?" David reached for him. Jory skipped out of reach. "What's wrong?"

"Just give it a few minutes." Jory summoned up an attempt at a grin, but gave in to the rueful expression breaking through.

"You know, maybe it was a bad idea for me to come."

David felt his heart begin to break. He kept his face still. "Yeah. Maybe it was."

"No! G.o.d, no. Not that kind of mistake." Jory moved back to David, although he was swallowing quickly. He reached up to run a hand through David's hair. "Look, you. When are you going to learn that I'm not going anywhere?"

David relented. "Even to Amour Magique with me?" he said, carefully taking Jory into his arms. "Pretty please?"

"Not that again." Jory shook his head. "Davy, I can't afford the entrance price."

"What if I --"

"Uh-uh. We're not going over this again."

"Okay," David said quietly. "It would just mean a lot. If I could show you off to my friends. None of them have someone so --" He broke off. Paused. Then, "Special. I want them to see us together. That we don't need anyone else. So, please?"

Jory sighed. "It really means that much to you? So much you'd torture me by making me go to a gay club full of muscle boys and pretty Nellies?"

"It's not like I want to go myself."