Busted (29 page)

Chris was wrung out and not thinking at all clearly. He just looked blankly at Joe.

"I don't think either of us would be comfortable," he said as he pulled off his own sweat-stained t-shirt. "If I were dressed just like this?" He shucked his pants off and stood in front of Chris in just a pair of grey bikini briefs.

Chris tried hard to find an appropriate response. After a minute he managed "Guh?"

Joe smiled at Chris' obvious bafflement. One of the drawers of the dresser was already open, so Joe just dug out a t-shirt for himself and slipped it on. Sized for Chris, it was baggy on Joe and hung down far enough to cover his crotch.

"I'm… concerned," Joe said. He was choosing his words as carefully as he could. He didn't want to lie to Chris, but neither did he feel comfortable telling the whole truth. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone tonight. I know I'm not who you'd choose, but that's okay."

It was actually very much not okay. Chris caught the lie, though he was far past the point where it really registered.

"I'm here, and we got along well enough tonight so I think I should stay. And there's no way in hell I'm sleeping on that couch of yours."

Chris thought about it. He remembered the feel of Joe's hands in the club, the feel of his body as they hugged in the car. He was tempted, truly tempted, and not just because he'd been dreaming about Joe being in his bed for months.

"That's… nice," Chris said. "But you don't have to."

"I know," Joe said with a smile. "I want to, and I think you need someone to. So get into bed and save us the hassle of an argument you know you're going to lose."

Chris smiled back, and got into bed. The air conditioning had been on all day, so the room was cool. The bed had a sheet and light comforter on it, enough to be comfortable without being too warm. He got under both, then looked at Joe.

Joe pulled the sheet up and got on top of it, pulling the comforter over him. That left the sheet between them. It was safer, and they both knew it.

Chris started to shift around when he felt Joe's hand on him.

"Roll over here," Joe said.

Chris did without thinking. Joe slid one arm under Chris' head and laid the other over his shoulder, pulling him in to nestle against Joe's chest. Chris felt comfortable and safe, and sleep took him quickly.

It was longer coming for Joe. This was different than with Alex. They'd always had sex before going to sleep, and Joe would drop off quickly afterwards. Now he was tired but not so tired he'd fall asleep immediately. That gave him time to watch Chris fade, listen to his breathing get regular and deepen. He felt the body in his arms relax. The difference was impressive.

"Good night, Chris," Joe whispered, then kissed his forehead.

Holding Chris, and lulled by the quiet rhythm of his breathing, Joe fell asleep.

Joe
woke up to the sound of twittering birds and the morning sun shining on his face. There was something not quite right about that, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was early, well before coffee, and he wasn't thinking too clearly.

Alex had slept in, something that was unusual for him. Unless Joe was staying over his apartment, which he'd only done a few times, Alex was usually up first and off to work, doing whatever it was he did. Joe gave a sleepy smile and kissed Alex. He was buried under his blanket, so Joe had to make do with the top of his head.

Alex mumbled something and rolled over. He took the comforter with him, leaving Joe exposed and chilly. He grabbed clumsily for it a few times then gave up. It was bright and he felt like he was waking up anyway.

"Lousy thieving boyfriend," he grumbled as he slid out of bed. When his feet hit the floor the first impression he had was cold. There was wood under his feet. That wasn't right. His bedroom had carpet. So did Alex's.

Chris' didn't.

He was in Chris' bedroom. He'd slept with Chris. Not
slept
slept, but still he slept with Chris. That would've been okay except he liked it. God, he'd even kissed Chris good morning.

This was bad.

Very bad.

He had a boyfriend. He loved his boyfriend. And he just slept with his boyfriend's twin brother and liked it better. Even with the no sex part, he'd liked it better. Chris was probably a better lover, too.

He really, really had to not go there. He wasn't sure it was a good idea to be on the same planet as there.

There was an overstuffed old armchair in the corner of the room. Joe slumped down in it. He needed to think. He
wanted
to bolt. He wondered if it was still considered straight panic if it was the gay guy panicking in the morning.

He desperately needed coffee and his boyfriend. He just wasn't sure if he wanted his boyfriend right then.

Joe sat there and watched Chris as he let his brain settle. He watched Chris roll over again. Saw an arm wave awkwardly where he'd been asleep just a few minutes before, hands grabbing the pillow Joe had used and pull it in. He even heard the contented sigh.

This was so not right.

Joe was tempted to gather his things and just go. Get dressed, get the hell out, and never
ever
go back. That'd probably be best all around. Chris might not be straight but he was close enough. He'd been married, he had a kid, he had a gay twin he hadn't talked to in god knows how long. Alex was a good guy. Being gay was the only reason Joe could think of that anyone would have abandoned him.

Maybe that was in the past, or would be some day. Chris had talked about Alex to Toby. Being honest, it was a good thing for Joe that Chris and Alex weren't close. He wasn't sure how he'd handle it if they were.
 
Chris being close to Alex meant Chris being close to Joe. That wouldn't be good.

Still, he couldn't run away. He might feel like seven kinds of scum, lusting after his boyfriend's brother, but he remembered how Chris had been last night, how much he needed someone. He couldn't just run. Chris deserved better than that.

Sighing, Joe got up and grabbed his clothes from the night before. The shirt was still sweaty and damp, but his pants were okay. He slipped them on. By reflex he tossed the shirt and socks into the hamper. He caught himself right after he'd let fly.

He almost went and got them. That might be dangerous. There were things that smelled like Chris in the hamper. Instead he grabbed his shoes and padded downstairs. He just hoped there would be coffee.

* * *

Chris woke up, feeling more rested than he had in months. For once his sleep had been undisturbed by the raw dreams that always heralded Alex's appearance, or the erotic dreams of his own that had been as bad in their own way. There wasn't any trace of the fatigue that Alex dreams brought either.

His first alarm went off then. He hadn't been up before his alarm in a very long time. It was nice. He gave the pillow he'd grabbed one last hug, then rolled over and turned off the alarm. He turned the other two off. No point in having them go off when he was already awake.

There was something subtly different that morning. It was more than just him getting up, more than just a good night's sleep. He shrugged and stretched as he got out of bed. He padded over to the dresser, the floor under his feet cool and comfortable. He grabbed a clean t-shirt and boxers, then stripped off the shirt he'd worn to bed and threw it at the dirty clothes in the hamper.

He froze. There was a rich green shirt on top of the pile. He didn't
own
any green shirts. Chris picked it off the top of the pile. It was still a little damp, and had a smell to it that was intense but not unpleasant.

Three things registered on his brain.

The shirt was Joe's.

He was smelling it.

He had an erection that almost hurt.

Chris threw the shirt back as if he'd been burned. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be feeling this. Megan had shown him that. He didn't need anyone. He was fine with just Toby. He certainly didn't need
Joe
.

Except he had last night. Maybe need was too strong a word, but he'd been miserable and Joe had made him feel better. Dragged him out and made him have fun. Hell, he'd even made Chris
dance
, something he'd not done in a long time. And he'd even enjoyed it.

Afterwards, once they'd gotten home, he'd been so… caring. He'd listened. Megan had never listened. She never wanted to know, his job was just an imposition. Joe had, though. Listened, and cared, and made sure Toby had gotten to bed. Made sure Chris had gotten to bed.

Oh, god, he'd slept with Joe. And when Joe left, Chris had clung to the pillow he'd used. How sad was that? Probably about as sad as getting an erection smelling Joe's sweaty shirt.

Joe was gone, though. He'd taken Chris home, tucked him in, held him until he'd slept, then he'd gone. Except why had he left his shirt?

He shook his head. It was too early, and he wasn't thinking clearly enough. He needed a shower and needed some coffee, and maybe some breakfast too.

The shower was easily taken care of. It was good and cold, which took care of the erection, and helped wake him up. That brought another thought to mind.

Joe knew Alex. Not only that, everyone at the club had seemed to know Alex. A dozen people he'd never met before had said hello, and he'd almost gotten dragged off to one side of the dance floor by a group of very pretty boys. Everyone thought he was Alex.

That was nuts. It made no sense. Alex wasn't real. He was just a figment of his imagination, or a hallucination, or maybe a ghost. When he was ten he thought that maybe Alex was the spirit of his dead twin, except his mother had told him that he hadn't been a twin. She might not have been the most reliable person, but his grandmother had told him the same thing. She'd never lied to him, though she rarely ever talked to him. He’d lost touch with her when he came back east.

So how could a whole bar full of people know who Alex was?

He decided he'd ask Joe the next time he saw him. If he ever did see him again. Joe was probably ready to run, given how messed up Chris had been last night.

Sighing, Chris dried off and got dressed. Toby hadn't peeked his head into the bedroom, but that wasn't a surprise. He was a pretty reliable riser, and it was a half hour before Chris usually got up. Chris looked into Toby's room, but the bed was empty. His pajamas were laid out on his bed. He'd probably gotten up early and wandered down for breakfast.

Chris did the same. He had enough time to read the paper even. He'd not done that in the morning for a long time.

The sound of quiet giggles met him as he descended the stairs. That puzzled him. Toby didn't watch TV in the morning. He couldn't think of any reason he'd be giggling.

Turning the corner he saw exactly what Toby was laughing at. Joe was capering around the kitchen. He had two pieces of toast with the centers torn out that he was using as a pair of glasses, and he was making funny faces at Toby.

"Oh, good morning," Joe said. Chris had taken him by surprise, but he'd expected he'd be down sooner or later. Toby had come down twenty minutes earler and seemed completely unfazed by Joe being in his kitchen and staring blankly at the coffee maker. Who knows, maybe that was what Toby thought adults did in the morning.

Joe hadn't worked out how he felt about being there, but he had decided that he wasn't going to vanish. Chris had a lousy day yesterday, dealing with something so far out of what Joe ever had to that he couldn't really imagine it, and what he could imagine sickened him. He'd seemed so content this morning, cuddling the pillow Joe had used. Chris at least deserved the courtesy of a real good bye.

So, he was putting on the happy face. It was easy with Toby. The boy was giggly. Joe was finding it was impossible to be unhappy around a giggling four year old.

"Morning," Chris said. He was a little wary. More than wary, he was scared as hell about how happy he was to see Joe in his kitchen.

"Toast?" Joe asked, offering the two pieces he'd been playing with.

"Uncle Joe used to be a mine!" Toby said. He was bouncing in his seat. There was a mostly empty bowl of Captain Crunch and the rinds of two Pop-Tarts on a plate in front of him. He was fully sugared and very awake.