Rainbow Blues (20 page)

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Authors: KC Burn

BOOK: Rainbow Blues
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Once Jimmy had convinced Luke he wasn’t interested in test-driving the foot long “ass rammer” on either of them, Luke had found them utterly hilarious, and Jimmy found out he wasn’t quite as world-weary as he thought.

“Not me.” Luke’s grin, though, was decidedly naughty. And he’d just realized Luke had a hand behind his back.

Jimmy advanced. “What are you hiding?” If it was something embarrassing, he was going to tease Luke for months after all the comments about how Luke could never measure up to Jimmy’s box of boyfriends.

He pounced and tried to wrestle Luke’s arm from behind him, but even laughing his ass off, Luke was way stronger.

“Damn it.” Jimmy backed off with a theatrical pout—might as well go with what he was good at. “Show me. It’s embarrassing. It’s got to be.”

Luke licked his lips, eyes darkening, and now Jimmy really wanted to know what he was hiding.

“It’s not embarrassing. I think you’ll have to demonstrate how best to use it before it’ll be embarrassing.”

With a magician’s flourish, Luke was suddenly brandishing a slender glass dildo with a bright ribbon of royal blue swirled through it.

Jimmy’s breath caught in his throat and blood raced south.

“Out of the blue, I was thinking of you….” Luke’s wicked smile kicked Jimmy’s pulse into the stratosphere. God, he loved this man more than life.

“You want to test it now?” Between the throb of his cock, the insistent bulge behind Luke’s fly, and the thought of showing Luke how a toy like that could add another dimension to their already spectacular sex life, Jimmy was amazed he could put together a coherent sentence, but they’d both been working hard for a few hours.

“I’m a little sweaty.”

Luke advanced with purpose.

“I like your sweat.” He tossed the dildo on the bed, yanked Jimmy’s T-shirt over his head, and licked him from nipple to ear.

“I like you dirty.”

Jimmy had no breath to speak, his cock pulsing in his pants, and he shivered, hard, at Luke’s words.

“Now, get me sweaty and show me what a dirty boy you are.”

An unmanly whimper escaped Jimmy as precum dampened his briefs. How the fuck did he get so lucky?

 

 

F
RESHLY
SHOWERED
,
Luke lay on the bed dozing while Jimmy continued to putter around packing. They’d made good progress, and they still had another month before closing. Although they’d both had to break the leases on their apartments, they’d arranged to keep their apartments for two weeks after closing to give them plenty of time to move stuff out.

Luke wasn’t sure he was going to be useful for anything for the rest of the day. If he’d known how much fun dildos could be, he’d have bought one sooner. Then again, having Jimmy showing him and sharing with him made it special and so fucking hot they should have charred the sheets.

Jimmy’s phone rang, and drowsy, Luke listened to the soothing cadence of Jimmy’s voice. The discussion was rather lengthy, or at least it seemed so in his drowsy state. Until the tone changed, became sharper and harder. Luke sat up in bed. This wasn’t a regular phone call.

By the time he found his boxers and pulled them on, Jimmy had returned, face pale like he’d seen a monster.

“What’s wrong?” Luke bounded over to Jimmy and gripped his shoulders with both hands. “Who was that? Are your parents okay? The family?”

Jimmy shook his head. “No, I mean, they’re fine. It’s not that.”

Luke was going to shake his boyfriend if he didn’t spit it out. “Jimmy, you’re killing me here. What’s wrong?”

“Uh, that was a director.”

“A director? Damian, you mean?” Damian often cast Jimmy in the plays he was directing, including the upcoming
Hamlet
, and despite Damian’s penchant for calling Luke the “throat-sucker” in the few times the three of them had met for drinks, Jimmy swore up and down he could be a vicious taskmaster. Luke didn’t see it, but he didn’t know Damian well. Jimmy’s friend from school, Karen? Karen, Luke could see as a strict disciplinarian.

“No, a Hollywood director.”

“Okay. I have no idea what that means.”

“I need to sit down.”

Luke knew what that meant, at least. He led Jimmy into the living room, cleared the sofa of the half-packed boxes, packing tape, and box cutters. The second he was done, Jimmy flopped bonelessly into the cushions.

“Jimmy, you’re freaking me out.” He tried to keep his voice level, but it wasn’t easy.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just sinking in, you know?”

His nostrils flared in annoyance. “No, I don’t know. You haven’t told me.” Another few minutes of this, and he’d just grab Jimmy’s phone and dial the last number.

Jimmy took a deep breath. “
Walking Wounded
was optioned for a movie. I think I remember telling you that.”

Luke nodded. Jimmy had been pleased that the playwright was getting well-deserved recognition, and he’d been thrilled that he’d had a chance to play the role before future productions were shut down in favor of the movie option.

“Apparently, the director got ahold of the recorded version we did, and they want me to play Gary.”

A movie role? “Seriously? They want you to act in a movie? That’s awesome.” Luke hugged Jimmy, who didn’t move, who remained stiff in his arms like a bundle of sticks.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

This didn’t make any sense. The pieces of this puzzle weren’t falling into place. A movie role was something Jimmy had always wanted. He’d already played Gary to wild critical success. Why wasn’t he bouncing around like he’d been electrified?

Jimmy sighed. “I’d have to be in Los Angeles two days after closing on the house, at the latest. Production’s expected to take two months, but they want me to be there another two months for publicity and in case there are unexpected delays in filming.”

Oh. Two days after closing. “Okay. So, yeah, the timing sucks.”

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something.”

Luke frowned. “The universe? What are you talking about?”

“Zach still doesn’t think we should be buying this house. Now I got this opportunity. Maybe it’s a sign.”

“A sign we shouldn’t live together? I don’t think the universe gives a fuck, and when did you start believing in signs?”

“I’m an actor. We’re a superstitious lot.”

Luke snorted. “You’re also a biology teacher. A melodramatic one, to be sure.”

Jimmy gave him a hard look. “Why aren’t you upset about this?”

“Upset because you’re going to be able to fulfill a dream? What kind of shitty boyfriend would that make me? You’ll be gone four months, we can probably visit each other if our schedules allow, we can definitely call, and I’ll keep myself busy getting the house ready for your extraordinary decorating skills.” Summer was a busy time for construction, and Luke wouldn’t find it easy to take time off, but maybe Jimmy would have chunks of time in the shooting schedule where he could come back home.

The brittle bundle of sticks began to soften into the Jimmy he was more familiar with. “You’d be okay with that?”

“Of course I would.” He’d hate every second away from Jimmy, but how fantastic that Jimmy was getting a second chance at a dream? “What about your job? The teaching one, I mean.”

Because that was a lot less flexible than the playhouse, even if Jimmy liked the theater better.

“I’d have to take an unpaid leave of absence. Probably just a semester.”

“Unpaid?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Amazingly, the pay I’d be getting for the movie will be more than enough to cover my salary, plus getting a short-term apartment in Los Angeles, plus my half of the house expenses, and leave some left over.

Luke couldn’t help it. He started laughing, and Jimmy’s confused stare only made it all funnier.

“I can’t wait,” he gasped out, “to tell Zach I’m going to be your boy toy.”

It took a second for Jimmy to absorb the joke, but he laughed, sweet and happy, and the last of his worry seemed to melt away.

When they were both recovering, Luke wrapped an arm around Jimmy’s narrow shoulders. “I’m not lying, it will be hard. But we’re strong. Four months out of the rest of our lives is nothing, right?”

Jimmy smiled at him. “Right. Guess I’ll call them back and tell them yes.”

 

 

L
UKE
AND
Jimmy stopped by the house the day before Jimmy’s flight. Since they didn’t have to leave their apartments on the same day as closing, Luke had suggested they leave the house empty for a week so he could easily work the most pressing tasks. Which meant there wouldn’t be any furniture in their new house before he left for Los Angeles.

Jimmy’s bags were packed. He’d been on the edge of crying for days, even when they’d signed the final paperwork to make the house theirs. In a week, Luke would supervise moving their stuff in, and then sleep alone in their home. It was fucking killing him that they weren’t going to share that experience, that first night in the home they’d bought together.

Luke had wanted Jimmy to come by, see it before he left, maybe give Luke a few pointers for things he wanted done. Make notes, maybe. It was times like this that Jimmy wanted to shriek in frustration about how logical and practical his boyfriend—his partner—was. It made sense, it really did, but Jimmy had never done this before, and this was so not how he imagined it. Sometimes, he even dreaded the thought of getting on that plane.

Many times, he’d picked up the phone, intending to call and say he couldn’t do it. But then Luke would tell him how proud he was, how wonderful it would be, how talented Jimmy was. Maybe it made him a bad person, but the praise gave him the courage to keep on with the plan. And it was only four months. Four months would be over in the blink of an eye, and Jimmy could erase that niggling shame of having failed so absolutely when he was younger.

Jimmy sighed.

“You okay?” Luke gave him a hug and kissed him on the temple as they stood in the driveway.

“I guess. This just isn’t how I imagined these first few days. You’ll send me pictures of stuff you’re doing, right?”

Luke shrugged. “I can. Most of the stuff won’t be too interesting. Not at first.”

“I don’t fucking care. I want to see.” Jimmy already had the pout, all he needed was a shrill whine and a foot stamp before he was officially in childish tantrum territory, but this was their home, and he was leaving Luke to deal with all the hard work.

“Then I’ll send you pictures.”

“Are you sure? I can still cancel.”

“I think this is what’s called cold feet. You’ll be fabulous, everything will be fine, and we’ll be just as strong in four months as we are now. Besides, don’t tell me you wouldn’t make some of these repairs harder.” Luke lifted his eyebrows, because they well knew he might be able to deftly wield a scalpel on a fetal pig, but he didn’t know the first thing about power tools. The odds of him fucking up while learning were pretty damn good.

“C’mon. I’ve got a tape measure and a pad of paper. We’ll start in the basement and work our way up.” Luke laced their fingers together and pulled him into the house. If he hadn’t been so despondent, he might have assumed Luke was being deliberately provocative with the innuendo.

A couple of hours later, they were ready to head up to the bedrooms, and despite the fact he hadn’t had much of an appetite since taking the so-called role of a lifetime, he was getting a little hungry.

“There wasn’t anything in the bedrooms, was there? I mean, just painting, right? We could head out and grab some dinner.”

Honestly, Jimmy wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep from crying if he had to wander through the bedroom he wasn’t going to be able to share with Luke until some nebulous future visit, assuming he was even able to return for a visit before his four-month commitment in Hollywood was up. This should be the most exciting time in his life, and all he could focus what he was missing out on at home.

“Just a quick run through and then we can get some dinner.” Luke gave him a little swat on the ass with his notebook, and Jimmy mock glared before sucking it up and going upstairs. He headed to the master bedroom first, to get it over and done with, give him a little time to recover before he’d have to be a functioning dinner companion.

He stood on the threshold, the evening sun lighting dust motes in the air.

“Go on,” Luke said softly, and pushed him gently into the room.

Jimmy stumbled into the room and immediately his eyes welled up. Luke had set up an air mattress with blue bedding, flanked by a pair of electric hurricane lanterns. A cooler and picnic basket sat on the floor by the closet.

He turned to Luke. “What?”

“We have to spend our first night in the house together.”

Jimmy sniffed and did his best not to let the tears fall. This was why Luke was perfect for him. They weren’t carbon copies of the other, but the important things? Those were the same.

“I’m sorry.” Jimmy’s voice wavered, and he scrubbed his cheeks with the back of his hands. “It’s perfect. Thank you. I’m not crying again, I swear.”

Luke’s eyes were a little shiny, and he drew Jimmy close. “I don’t mind you crying, you know. You know I like honest, and I like that you feel as intensely as I do about us.”

Yeah, he felt things intensely. So much so that he’d been afraid the past few days he was going to crumble into jagged shards every time he thought about getting on that plane and leaving Luke behind.

“Is that dinner in there?” Jimmy pointed at the cooler and basket. Luke smiled and let him change the subject, although he hoped Luke’s preparations had included tissues, because he suspected there would be some ugly crying sandwiched between eating and sex.

“Yep. Nothing fancy, but I didn’t think either of us would be up to dealing with a lot of people.”

“Thank you.” He teetered on the brink of sobbing his eyes out just about every other minute; not worrying about making a scene would make these last few hours with Luke a lot less stressful.

Jimmy frowned. “Where the fuck did you get a picnic basket?” Even if he hadn’t spent the past month helping Luke pack up all his shit, he’d never have taken Luke as a man who owned a picnic basket. The cooler he’d seen before, and was more in keeping with the Luke he knew. Unless it was some weird holdover in storage from having a kid, like the safari ice packs.

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