From the Ashes (21 page)

Jesse pinched his lips together. Another tear dripped down his cheek, and he wiped it away with the heel of his hand. He didn’t speak, just kept walking.

“C’mon, Jess.” Tomas rubbed Jesse’s arm. He might have taken his hand, but they were in SeaTac, not Seattle. Everyone in the neighborhood knew by now that Jesse and Tomas were together, but there was a difference between overhearing and seeing with their own eyes. “Come on home.”

“I’m going back to the city.” Jesse wiped his face. “Spend the night at a hotel or with Henri again. I’ll be okay.”

Fuck it.
Tomas grabbed Jesse’s hand. “No. You’re not.” He tugged him, urging him to stop. “You’re coming back to my place.” Tomas’s emotions batted around in his chest, cutting like they were made of glass. “I mean
our
place. Come home with me.”

Jesse closed his eyes, and fat tears dripped down his cheeks. “They don’t want me there.” He shivered, as if he wanted to burst into sobs.

Tomas wrapped his arms around Jesse, pulling him into a hug. Jesse’s hair smelled like rain and fallen leaves. “Diego doesn’t live there, and no one else wants you to move out.” He kissed Jesse’s temple. “Besides, I pay rent. If I want you to live there, it’s my choice.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “But if your parents don’t want—”

“No one is telling you to leave.” Tomas wanted to shake Jesse for being so blind. “Diego’s got his issues, but he’s not in charge.”

“I don’t want to fight.” Jesse shook his head, looking beaten.

“Come home,” Tomas said gently. “Just for the night. We’ll watch a movie. I can drive you back into the city tomorrow.”

Jesse let out a long, shivery breath. He glanced past Tomas’s shoulder, to the front of the Perez house.

The lawn was empty.

“I don’t want to see any of them tonight.” Jesse’s voice was quiet and scared. “Can you…?”

“I’ll text Maria—make sure no one steps foot in the backyard.” He watched and waited. Tomas wasn’t taking no for an answer, but he gave Jesse time to reach that conclusion on his own.

Jesse nodded. As if in a trance, he let Tomas lead him down the sidewalk.

Tomas texted as they walked, asking Maria to keep the family inside, at least until he and Jesse got in the door. Maria replied right away, saying Diego had gone home and their parents were doing their best to pretend the last twenty minutes hadn’t happened.

“See, no one’s here.” The driveway stretched bare and silent after the thunderstorm of his family’s fight. Tomas opened the door as fast as possible and led Jesse inside.

He took Jesse’s backpack and set it on the floor by the edge of the couch. “Are you hungry? Or do you want to take a shower?”

Jesse just shrugged, standing in his spot in the middle of the room.

“C’mon.” Tomas went to him, taking his hand. Even with everything that had happened, he was so happy to have Jesse home. He pulled Jesse toward the bathroom. “Wash off. You’ll feel better.”

He got Jesse into the small space of the bathroom. Only a few feet divided the shower stall, sink and toilet. Tomas shuffled around Jesse to start the water. Watching Jesse’s eyes to make sure he was okay, he slowly unzipped Jesse’s jacket.

Jesse sucked in a breath.

“I missed you,” Tomas said. They’d hardly been apart, but he wanted to say something to fill the space. “I’m happy you’re here.” He eased Jesse’s shirt up until Jesse lifted his arms over his head.

Tomas pressed a kiss onto Jesse’s shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jesse still had smudges of body paint on his torso and arms. Tomas thumbed a gray patch on his hips before sliding his touch along Jesse’s waistband.

“Can I?” Tomas hovered his fingers over the button on Jesse’s jeans.

Jesse nodded. He parted his lips but didn’t speak, and watched with wide eyes as Tomas unzipped his pants and eased them down his legs.

The floor was cramped, but Tomas squatted. He worked Jesse’s shoes and socks off, then his jeans. Jesse’s feet were clammy but beautifully pale. Tomas wished he had a big enough shower, or maybe a bath, so he could wash them with a cloth.

“There you go.” Tomas sat on his heels. Jesse’s cock was mostly hard and only inches from Tomas’s face. It smelled musky, but fresh, and the scent drew him closer. Tomas licked his lips, looking up at Jesse, asking permission.

“Yeah.” Jesse leaned back against the shower stall, and the move arched his back so his dick stuck out. He watched Tomas carefully, his cock growing bigger and lifting so it pointed at the ceiling.

“Jess…” Tomas palmed his hipbones. He kissed his way across Jesse’s belly, nuzzling the hair of his groin. Tomas wanted to bury himself in Jesse, lose every bit of his body and soul. Groaning, he opened his mouth and took Jesse inside. Jesse tasted salty and bitter.

Tomas returned again and again to the cap, licking around it, slipping his tongue along the tiny slit.

Jesse tensed in his hands. He didn’t moan, but each breath was a gasp. Thin and shaking, he felt so fragile. His ass tightened under Tomas’s fingertips. His cap leaked sweet-salty fluid all over Tomas’s tongue.

When Jesse got close, he put his hands in Tomas’s hair. Not rough or gripping, but like a tree that digs its roots into soil, holding the land so it can grow. “Oh God,” he whispered.

His cock flexed in Tomas’s mouth for a half second before he shot. Come pulsed, thick and strong tasting. Tomas had to pull back to swallow.

“Oh God.” Jesse slumped against the shower stall, breathing hard.

Tomas maneuvered to standing, so he could hold Jesse up. “You gonna pass out on me?”

“Nah.” Jesse buried his face in Tomas’s shoulder. The distance between them was still there, but less than before. Jesse pressed a kiss to Tomas’s neck before he lifted his head.

“You should wash off. I’ll find something good to watch.” Tomas backed up a step. His erection strained the front of his pants, but he didn’t want Jesse to think he expected anything, so he left before Jesse could offer.

Jesse scrubbed his arms and shampooed his hair. He didn’t think. He couldn’t. It was too painful.

Man, he’d fucked up. So badly he didn’t know how it could ever be right.

Tomas going down on him only made it worse because Jesse knew now—he did love Tomas. More than he’d known he could love a man. He’d always thought being in love would feel great and make him happy. Solve all his problems. But now he knew love hurt.

He switched off the water and picked up the folded towel Tomas had left on the sink. Suddenly shy, Jesse wrapped it around his chest. He would have put his clothes back on, except they were rank.

“Feel better?” Tomas asked when Jesse came into the living room.

“Yeah. A little.” He wished he could say he was sorry for everything—for screwing stuff up with Tomas’s family, and getting on his case about Diego—but the words were like paper in his throat.

In Tomas’s bedroom, Jesse went to the dresser and pulled out the worn sweatpants he used for sleep.

“It was too late to order pizza, so I made tamales,” Tomas called from the kitchen.

“Thanks.” The smell of Mexican food filled the air, and Jesse was glad he and Tomas kept a bunch of frozen stuff on hand. Tomas always served tamales with sour cream and this really good sauce his mom made.

When Tomas opened the back door, Jesse tensed—imagining Tomas’s family invading their fragile bubble—but then he heard the wet sound of Chardonnay slobbering and the scrape of her feet over the kitchen floor.

In the living room, Tomas queued up a movie on demand and laid their plates on the table. Shit, Jesse couldn’t leave. He couldn’t, but it might rip him in half to stay.

He flopped down on the couch, not wanting to think about it any more. “I thought you hated sci-fi.” The movie Tomas loaded was about aliens and blowing shit up. They didn’t always agree on the subgenre of action flicks, but they concurred that explosions were awesome.

“Yeah, but you don’t.” Tomas smiled at him. His teeth were bright white and his mouth beautiful.

“I’m gonna fall asleep five minutes into it.”

Tomas put his plate in his lap and got his feet on the coffee table. “That’s okay.”

Jesse could tell Tomas wanted to touch him, to rub his head or his shoulders. He was glad Tomas didn’t. Jesse picked up his plate and shoveled food into his mouth. The second the meat and cornmeal hit his tongue he realized he was ravenous.

The action started on-screen, whisking Jesse away from Tomas’s house, and even SeaTac or Seattle. He lost himself in a world of laser fire and bursting flames. He must have eaten, too, because after a while he stopped being hungry.

Next thing he knew, Tomas was lifting him off the couch and carrying him into the bedroom. Jesse was too tired to say thank you. He was too drained to say anything at all.

As Tomas laid him down, he heard Tomas whisper, “I love you.”

Jesse pinched his eyes shut and tried to fall back asleep before he could cry.

Chapter Eighteen

“Well, aren’t you a bucket of sunshine today,” Michael observed wryly from his spot next to the espresso machine. It was eleven thirty, a slow time since the lunch crown didn’t hit until twelve.

A week had passed since the fight outside Tomas’s house, but Jesse was still reeling. Every time he thought he was over it, he’d be hit with depression over living where he wasn’t wanted, or crushed by guilt over ruining Tomas’s relationship with his parents.

It was worse than the house fire, in a way, because Tomas’s home was going up in smoke, but Jesse had to live there while it burned.

“Yeah. Pretty tired.” Jesse busied himself refilling the sugar and calorie-free sweetener. After pulling the milk pitchers up from the other side of the counter, he headed to the refrigerator in back.

Michael dogged his steps. “You’ve been pissy since last week. What’s your problem?”

“Nothing.” Jesse wasn’t going to lay out his issues with Tomas just so Michael could tell him
I told you so.
No one had shown up at Tomas’s place to shout at them since the day after Halloween, and Jesse hadn’t even seen any of Tomas’s family. When Char needed out of the backyard for a walk or to come in and sleep, Tomas let her in. Well, Jesse had done it once or twice, but only with the hood pulled up on his sweatshirt like a criminal.

“It’s obviously not nothing.” Michael pulled the half-and-half pitcher out of his hand and filled it while Jesse filled the soymilk. He made a prissy, know-it-all face. “You break up with your closet case?”

Jesse grabbed the pitcher Michael had been filling. “What’s your issue?” he hissed.

A girl with jet-black hair and a nose ring stood at the counter, staring up at the sandwich board. She ordered a ham and Swiss with Dijon. Jesse took her money.

Behind him Michael set the ingredients on a cutting board.

“Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?” Michael asked once the girl had left to get a table. “Making you sneak around? Keeping you on the side like some cheap two-bit whore.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. Even before Tomas had gone to war with his brother over Jesse, Tomas had been nothing but awesome. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Yeah, right.” Michael handed the girl her sandwich. “I dated a guy like that once. Was head over heels for him.” Michael stacked cups in the cabinet and wiped down the counters. “Broke my heart, the asshole.” He grabbed a spray bottle off the shelf and used it to spritz cleaning solution onto the espresso machine. He wiped the façade like he would scrape off the shiny paint. “But the worst part was how shitty I felt about myself afterwards. The crap I put up with from him…”

Michael shook his head, slowing his cleaning. When a new customer walked in, Michael pushed ahead of Jesse to take his order.

Jesse took over at the cutting board, making the guy’s sandwich. He didn’t say anything to Michael for a while, wanting to give him time to cool off. After he’d handed the guy’s bag across the counter, he leaned into his friend so their arms brushed. “That sucks.”

Michael was still frowning, so Jesse rubbed his arm. “His loss. Sexy man like you.” He searched Michael’s face until Michael cracked a smile.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He wasn’t Jesse’s type, but Michael was a pretty good-looking guy. His reddish-blond hair was cropped close to his head and a beard was trimmed so tight it looked like designer stubble.

“Oh, c’mon. You know you’re pretty,” Jesse teased.

Despite Michael’s frosty demeanor, he was always getting hit on. It was Michael’s own fault that he never went for any of his admirers.

“Not rugged and manly?” Michael said it like he was joking, but Jesse suspected there was a hint of insecurity there.

So Jesse said, “
Way
rugged and manly. I’m surprised you’re not chopping wood as we speak.”

Michael chuckled, his mood improving. “Is that a euphemism for something?”

“I don’t think so.” Jesse smiled. “But, y’know, it isn’t like that with me and Tomas.”

“Oh, please.” Michael looked at the ceiling, frustrated.

“Tomas’s family knows now.” Not that that was good news, per se, but it was true. “And he told one of his friends from work.”