Poking at the scrambled eggs with a spatula, he tried to think of what he could do to come back from the unmitigated disaster the past ten minutes had become. I shouldn’t have touched him like that. It was one thing to support Brain when he was dizzy and another to hold him close like a lover. Scowling down at the slow-cooking eggs, Clark abruptly shoved the flat of the spatula underneath and jabbed some more, loosening them from the bottom of the pan.
Shouldn’t have done a lot of stuff.
He’d have to talk to Kirby today, tell him he’d be moving back into his own house down the street. In the past few months, he’d spent far fewer nights there than in the clubhouse. At Kirby’s request, he reminded himself, knowing how shallow and fake it sounded even in his own head. I just need some distance. He nodded and scraped the eggs onto two plates. After setting the pan aside, he opened the microwave door and placed an extra layer of paper towels under the bacon before turning it on for another handful of seconds.
The stairs squeaked, and Clark released a deep breath, trying to push out all his nerves and tension with the air. He kept his back to the opening leading to the living area in the clubhouse and stared at the circling plate in the microwave until it beeped, signaling the cycle was complete.
“Hey.” Brain sounded tentative, and Clark scowled down at the plates as he arranged bacon next to the eggs on each. “Smells good.”
“Just breakfast food. Figured it’d be quick and easy.” Clark opened a drawer and pulled out two forks, laying one on the counter, keeping the other in his grip as he picked up a plate. “There you go. I’m eating on the porch.” Still without looking at Brain, he maneuvered past the man, careful to not touch him. “Enjoy.”
“Boots?” Brain’s voice was soft. The profound helplessness in the tone pulled Clark to a halt, hand frozen on the doorknob. “We okay?”
“Yeah, brother.” He turned the knob and opened the door as he lied to Brain for the first time. “We’re good.”
Seated on the side porch, Clark methodically ate the food on his plate as he stared out at the quiet neighborhood. His house was in view, just past the next block's corner. The building sat on a small lot, which was fine with him, because he’d never been one for gardening. Not like Dall.
The bacon turned to ash in his mouth. Sometimes he would go for months without thinking about Dall, and here the man had invaded his mind twice in one day.
Older than Clark by nearly two decades, Randall Mayhan had been his friend and confidant, the two of them thick as thieves through the years. After things had changed between them, Clark had known the reasoning behind keeping things quiet and casual. Understood and supported Dall’s demand. Men had been killed in small towns for less, and the culture of free love had never invaded Texas. Randall Mayhan had founded the town as a married man, fathering nine children on his loving wife—and from the first touch Clark had never looked at another man as long as his Dall had been alive. They’d set themselves up as best friends, staunch supporters for the other, and there’d never been a whisper of impropriety around their relationship. Not even as Clark had cared for Dall in his final days, with his wife long dead and his daughters and sons moved away. The nurses coming in and out without warning had forced Clark to keep his emotions at bay. At the funeral, he’d barely managed to keep himself under control, struggling to hold his salute through the services as he stood vigil at the foot of the grave.
Ten years later, the first time he’d gone out looking for a hookup had nearly killed him, but he’d wanted to touch someone, wanted to hold and be held, if only for a moment, even by a stranger.
I’m still a Buckler. His loyalty might have shifted, changing over to Kirby, Oscar, and the other new members, but the dogged support of the club itself had never wavered. Clark carried the half-finished plate into the kitchen, then scraped and rinsed it before placing it in the dishwasher. Then he returned to his chair outside and straightened to lean backwards, settling his feet against the porch railing.
Hours passed with the faint sound of video games coming from inside the house, balanced by voices that convinced him other brothers had Brain for now. They were all probably playing those damned first-person shooters the man liked so much. Well, liked is probably the wrong word. Even when the man was completely immersed in the game, Clark had watched as Brain took it upon himself to try to save his whole party. That wasn’t enjoyment as much as it was self-flagellation, and he made a mental note to talk to Dominic Reed about it. Again. The club’s staff counselor would know how best to approach things. Not my forte, he thought, and adjusted his position, feet still on the rail.
It was just before sunset, and the air had grown heavy with heat and moisture. We’ll have storms again tonight. He remembered Brain’s easy laughter after the meds had taken hold, how the man had teased him, not showing signs of having had an episode earlier in the night. Need to get him to take his pills again. Clark angled his head to rest against the high back of the chair. He sighed. “Maybe take a nap before it gets too late.”
“I could nap.”
The quiet voice held a thread of tamped back hope Clark didn’t understand. He closed his eyes and bit down on the inside of his bottom lip until he tasted copper.
“I mean, I slept real good last night. Actually slept. Was the best rest I’ve had in a long time, but naps are always good, right?” Brain’s question was soft and tentative, and Clark hated that the man felt like he couldn’t ask for what he needed. When did you ever ask for what you wanted, old man? Pushing the thought aside, he turned to look up at Brain, who continued, “Docs are always tellin’ me I can’t get too much sleep. Good sleep.”
As Brain hovered near the back of the chair next to Clark’s, his fingers curled around the rungs, knuckles standing out in a stark white.
“You wanna nap?” Clark shifted his gaze to Brain’s face, seeing how the man’s eyes darted back and forth, glancing across his face before turning to the yard, then back again. He wants this. The way Brain had stared at the hookup app on his phone last night resurfaced in his head, the heated expression, the way his teeth had captured his bottom lip in a slow, sexy bite. “Let’s see if we can nap.” Clark stood slowly and groaned as he stretched to help ease the ache in his back, then walked past Brain and opened the door. “Come on, Brain.” Standing back, he let the other man precede him into the house. On impulse, he held out his hand, shocked when Brain lunged towards it, grasping hold as if it were a lifesaver. He walked them to his downstairs bedroom, thankfully meeting no one along the way, the other men either out of the house or gathered in the media room.
Once inside, he thumbed the lock and flicked off the overhead light, leaving just the low glow from the bathroom window to light the way.
“Come on.” He tugged, and Brain moved towards him easily. Clark raised a knee to the mattress and eased to the far side, putting pressure on the connection between them until Brain settled on the edge of the bed. Rest of it needs to be his decision. He relaxed his grip and separated from Brain, surprised the man allowed it. But only a breath later, he had an armful of lean, hard male body as Brain buried his face against Clark’s neck. “It’s okay, Brian. I’ve got you.”
Brain’s breathing stayed elevated, and Clark worried he’d hyperventilate. Then the sound stuttered and broke, Brain’s shoulders shaking.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell’s a real bitch, you know?” Brain’s watery laugh held zero humor. “Down-low boyfriends and hookups don’t make for a charmed life. It’s stupid. I know it’s the dumbest thing ever, but I didn’t think I’d find anyone like me. Someone just trying to go along to get along, because they didn’t want to lose the club, either.”
“Hey, if this is your way of trying to out me—”
“What? No. Jesus, Boots. Hell no.” Brain scooted backwards a few inches, looking up at Clark from underneath a sea of long, dark lashes spiked with tears. “I’m just...” He scoffed, the sound self-deprecating as he gestured at Clark. “You’re you, and I’m just this whole entire mess.” The distance between them evaporated as Brain burrowed close again. “You’ve been so nice to me, and I’ve had this ridiculous crush on what I thought was this unattainable straight man.”
“A crush.” He tested the words, finding they sounded just as absurd in his voice as they had in Brain’s. “On me?”
“Not that I’m expecting anything.” Heat from Brain’s breath wafted over the skin of Clark’s neck, setting up a chain reaction in his blood. “But I slept so good last night, and I thought maybe it wouldn’t be weird if I asked you to hold me again.” His voice was thin, thready, filled with trepidation. He expects me to reject him outright. “Just for one night. I won’t ask again, Boots. I just didn’t want to be alone tonight.”
“I got you.” Oh, sweetheart. Clark settled against the mattress, rolling to his back. He urged Brain to move with him and wound up with the man sprawled out over the top of him, head resting tight to the base of his throat. “You can sleep here.” Awkwardly fumbling his phone out of his pocket, he woke it and navigated to the weather app. Holding it up, he squinted at it over Brain’s shoulder, frowning at the radar. “Looks like less than an hour before the storms get here. What about your meds?”
“I took ’em already, little while ago. I watched you.” There was the tiniest hitch in Brain’s voice. “Was watching you. You were outside just sittin’ there, and I ran upstairs and took the pills, just in case.”
“Just in case?” He soothed down Brain’s back with a palm, digging his fingertips in lightly on the upstroke as he set up a steady rhythm of comforting movement.
“Just in case you’d let me stay.”
“Oh, my friend, I’ll always try to do what’s right by you.” Clark tightened his hold on the man, doing his best to ignore the pure enjoyment of having Brain in his arms. “Just like last night.”
“My head hasn’t hurt all day.” Brain burrowed a little closer, leg riding up high on Clark’s thigh. “I’d forgot how good that felt. It’s—it’s been real bad the past few weeks, Boots.”
“Well, let’s see if we can get you another pain-free day.” He curled the fingers of his other hand around Brain’s neck. Clark grazed his thumb along Brain’s jaw, smiling at the soft and smooth skin under his touch. “You shaved.”
“Yeah.” The answer was soft, barely a puff of air against his skin. “Wanted to look nice for you.” The corners of Clark’s mouth curved up again and he sighed quietly, still stroking up and down Brain’s back. “You’re real nice-lookin’, could get anyone.” Brain moved slightly, and Clark felt the brush of a hardened cock against his thigh. “Thought if I cleaned up, you might want me.”
He’s medicated. After seeing the pills' effects last night, Clark knew there was no way he would take advantage of Brain right now. Not and be able to live with himself tomorrow. They’d broken down every one of the man’s walls and defenses, leaving him more real and bare than Brain probably even realized. Hell, agreeing to this cuddlefest is probably stepping over the line. But Clark would be damned before he would kick this man out of his bed. Not only were there storms coming, but holding Brain was no hardship.
“There’s someone out there for you, Brian Nelson.” Clark tipped his head and pressed a firm kiss to Brain’s temple. The words stuck in his throat, but he pushed past an overwhelming reluctance to voice them, whispering encouragement that could as easily be applied to himself. “Just gotta be willing to put yourself out there a little bit and find him.”
“Nah. It’s scary out there.”
“And in here? Not so scary anymore?” Brain laughed peacefully at Clark’s question, scrubbing his cheek back and forth across Clark’s chest as he shook his head. Clark tightened his hold on the man, telling him a piece of his truth. “Then I’m glad I can be your safe space tonight.”
“Yeah, me too.” Brain’s gruff whisper barely stirred the air, but Clark caught the depth of meaning behind the few words, and he smiled.
They lay like that, still and quiet through the hours as the storm rolled in, lightning flashing through the sky as rolling thunder chased it from horizon to horizon. Brain’s breathing never changed, stayed slow and even, Clark’s hands finally settling into a gentle hold as the skies grew silent again.
He slept deeply and woke alone, back throbbing from holding one position all night.
Clark ignored how his empty arms ached, pushing that thought to the back of his mind as he started his day.