Gabe sighed as his body cooled against his new sheets, and his head settled onto James’ naked thigh. It had been an exhausting bitch of a week. He hadn’t had more than four hours’ sleep on any given night. He hadn’t even been able to find time to call James more than once. For a week almost, their entire relationship had been conducted via text messages. That might work for young people, but by Friday evening, Gabe desperately wanted to actually hear James’ voice—in person if at all possible.
James’ fingers stroked through Gabe’s hair.
It hadn’t been their most energetic tumble, but it had been soft and sweet and had drained the last of Gabe’s energy from his body. He yawned. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You look exhausted.”
“I feel exhausted.”
“You should sleep, then.”
“My phone is probably going to ring any second.” Gabe had started to hear it ring in his sleep, only to wake up and find it silent.
“I’m sorry.”
Gabe closed his eyes as James’ fingers slipped through his curls, and with a soft breath, he slept.
When he opened his eyes, his head was on a pillow, a blanket had been pulled over his body, and his fingers were interlaced with James’. He wondered if he’d been chewing on them in his sleep or if James had noticed that a few of them were going raw after the last week.
He didn’t ask because James was fast asleep and the room was dark. Gabe must have already been asleep when James pulled up the blankets and turned off the lights. For once his phone didn’t seem to be ringing. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
When Gabe’s phone did finally ring, it was early, but at least the sun was up. He fumbled for it but didn’t recognize the number coming in. He sent it to voice mail, hoping it wouldn’t wake James, but it was too late, and James was already sitting up.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?” James’ voice sounded gravelly, and he cleared his throat.
“Good. Surprised my phone didn’t ring. You should go back to sleep, though. Get a few more hours.”
James stretched. “I’m awake. I’m usually up at this hour.”
Gabe pulled him close so James was cuddled up against his body. “Have you got plans for the weekend?” Gabe might have been told, but his mind was so muddled from too much work and not enough sleep that he could have easily forgotten.
“Just regular stuff. Laundry, shopping. Might have dinner with my parents on Sunday. Dylan’s got some big tests and essays coming up, so he’s going to have his head in his books all weekend. In theory at any rate.”
“What you’re saying is you don’t have to dash away at any point this morning?” That was exactly what Gabe wanted to hear.
“Not unless our new server catches fire. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“My pleasure. This job has got to have a couple of perks.”
“A couple?”
He caught James’ lips in a kiss. “Well, it does have a bad habit of cutting into my boyfriend time, and there aren’t many perks that can make up for that.” James didn’t reply, just kissed him back.
The sun was a good deal higher in the sky, and Gabe had let two more calls go to messages by the time they rolled out of bed and into the shower. He wasn’t up for another round as he stood under the spray, James’ body spooned against his, but he wished he was. From the other room, he could just make out the sound of his phone. He was tempted to go get it just so he could drown the thing.
He told himself it was the job. It was the job he loved. It made him a fortune. He got to work with his best friends. He got to see the world and put in motion ideas that would change that world. It was also the job every single boyfriend had dumped him over. They usually had other excuses; they met someone else, they were moving, they felt there were compatibility issues, but at the end of the day, it was the job. Always the job.
He gave James an extra squeeze and tried to shake the ghost of relationships past from his head. James felt too nice in his arms to be thinking about all of that.
James twisted around in his arms and laid his head against Gabe’s shoulder. “We should get out soon. We’ll get all wrinkly.”
“Yeah,” Gabe agreed but made no move to leave. In the distance a phone rang. He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around James.
James squeezed him back. “I’m sure you’ll get everything done that you need to.”
“I’m sure I will too. Doesn’t mean camping out at a high-altitude lake with no cell coverage doesn’t sound really appealing right now.”
James rubbed his back. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s my own damn fault. I just need to take a deep breath, keep focused, and push through. Eye on the prize and all that shit.”
The phone stopped ringing. James gave him another hug, then pulled away. “We should get breakfast in you.” James smiled, but it seemed hesitant.
Shit, Gabe thought. He should have learned by now to be careful talking about work in front of any boyfriend. He pulled James back in close for a deep, hard kiss until he felt James begin to melt in his arms. Maybe he was up for another round after all.
Gabe licked the last of the syrup from the french toast off his lips. It was his favorite “looks fancy but is actually really easy” breakfast recipe. James tipped his head back, draining his coffee, showing off his neck. Gabe licked his lips again. He was well past the age where he could go three rounds in one morning, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate what was in front of him. And he did love James in that blue robe. That shimmer of silk looked good against his skin, and it showed off his body in the most appealing manner.
That thought caused a mental note to pop up in his head. He drained his own coffee and went rummaging through the “random stuff” drawer in his kitchen.
“What are you looking for?”
“This.” Gabe pulled out a long tape measure as well as a small notebook and pencil.
“Okay? And what are you planning on measuring with that?”
“You. For a tux.”
“Um….”
“I did say I’d arrange one. I mean, I could call my tailor and have him swing by with some fabric swatches and—”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, whatever you pick,” James said quickly.
“Great, stand up.”
Gabe’s tailor would throw a fit, sewing up something for someone he’d never met, and probably double the price in punishment, but Gabe couldn’t tell James he was having one custom made. It was a balancing act. The boyfriend of the CFO could not show up to prom in a rented tux, but there was no way James’ pride would handle a custom-made one purchased for one event. Gabe hoped “what James didn’t know couldn’t hurt him” would stand up on this occasion.
He’d been fitted for enough suits that he knew exactly how to take every measurement, including ones most people don’t think of, like waist-to-hips, and circumferences of wrists and ankles.
“Is that really necessary?” James asked as Gabe measured his foot.
“Want to make sure you don’t get shoes that are too tight. Nothing worse than dress shoes that don’t fit correctly.” He kissed the inside of James’ ankle.
“Now, I’m pretty sure that’s not what usually happens when people get fitted for clothes.”
Gabe put a kiss on the side of his knee before standing up.
“Any other bit of me you need to measure?” James asked, a quirk in his lips.
“Nope. And I’ll pick out something nice for you. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not. Besides, you’re the one who’s going to have to be seen in public with me.”
Gabe pulled James into his arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” James shrugged, and in the other room, Gabe’s phone rang. He didn’t let go of James, though. “I was thinking, maybe the next time you come over, you can bring a spare shirt and leave it here.”
“Why?” James looked genuinely confused.
“Well, I keep sending you home in the same clothes I pick you up in. I thought you might want to leave a few things here—” James eyes went wide. Gabe recognized the start of one of James’ smaller panic episodes. “If you want,” he added quickly, hoping to calm James down. “I just thought it would be more convenient for you.”
“Yeah. Sure,” James answered, even as he started to pull away. “It’s a good idea.”
Gabe quietly kicked himself but was thankful he hadn’t jumped right into the “Why don’t you quit your crappy job and move in with me” pitch. Gabe’s phone rang again. He ignored it but also used it to change the topic.
“I was also thinking if you don’t have to run home right away, I can ignore my phone for a bit more. We could take a drive up to Half Moon Bay. Dip our toes in the ocean. Take a hike. Get lunch?”
“Can you afford to do that?”
The phone had stopped ringing. Gabe thought, Can I afford not to?
James stripped off his shoes and socks as soon as he came through his door. As much as he tried to brush the beach sand off his feet, some always managed to stick.
“Hey, Dad. We’re in here,” Dylan called out from the kitchen. James wondered who the “we” was.
In the kitchen a slightly frumpy brunette with glasses perched on the end of her nose sat across from Dylan. James was ashamed to admit that his first thought was that she didn’t seem like Dylan’s usual type, until he noticed the chemistry books and stacks of notes.
“Dad, you remember Melinda.”
“Of course. Hi.” James knew he’d always now remember Melinda as the girl Dylan got into a fight for.
“Hello, Mr. Maron.” Melinda gave a painfully shy little smile.
“How’s this all going?” James waved his hand over the pile of books.
Dylan said, “Miserable,” at the same moment Melinda said, “Fine.”
“Do you have any tricks for memorizing lists of ions?” Dylan asked.
“My strongest memory of high school chemistry was the day I took notes in blue crayon because I couldn’t find a regular pen anywhere in my bag.”
Dylan closed his eyes. “Okay.”
James wished he could help, but he wasn’t kidding when he said that most of high school was little more than an exhausted blur. “Sorry. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“Thanks. Oh, and Grandma called. She wants us over for dinner tomorrow.”
“Do I need to call her back?”
“Nah.”
“Okay. I’m going to do laundry. You two keep at it.”
James wandered into his bedroom but bypassed the basket of dirty laundry that sat in the corner. He sat on his bed and listened to it squeak under him. He’d never really noticed it squeaking before. He stared at the laundry basket with a blue button-down shirt sitting on top. It was a work shirt but not one of his main ones. He figured it would be okay to leave it at Gabe’s place. When Gabe had mentioned it, he’d felt panic settle into his chest, though he couldn’t work out why. There was nothing wrong with Gabe suggesting he leave a spare shirt. It was perfectly practical, and he liked practical. It meant Gabe was serious. He liked serious. Gabe just wanted him to be comfortable. James ran his hands over his face. It was too much to think about. It was probably best to just keep taking the whole thing one step at a time, instead of letting his brain rush ahead. Gabe almost certainly had his brain fully on the Russians and Solar Flare, and he didn’t need James complicating things by reading too much into a practical little suggestion.
He sighed, picked up the laundry basket, and decided to get to work.