Set the week before Christmas, near the end of Chapter 11 of Playing the Game, “Joint Pain” finds Jay struggling with his impulsiveness after such a successful Sunday for Henry and Alice.
Sprawled naked on the couch Monday evening, Jay arched into Henry’s massage. The light rain had lasted all day, keeping him cooped up in a poncho and banging his shins when slippery pedals and rubber soles disagreed. Twenty-three deliveries, some doubled up, in forty-one miles between breakfast and dinner.
The stereo pumped out the older-than-oldies violin music Henry liked, the sort where all the composers had fed the worms centuries ago. Jay, clean from his post-work shower and with his belly full of creamy seafood stew, fought to keep his eyes open. Not even nine o’clock yet. Lying with his legs draped across Henry’s lap wasn’t usually a road map to Sleepytown. At least, not until after.
But with strong hands kneading Jay’s thighs, Henry lulled him deeper into dreamy, subby bliss. Jay’s cock wagged tall, less in urgent demand than in appreciation for the touch. Belonging to Henry included a long list of perks like this, because Henry loved taking care of him about as much as he loved fucking him. An almost perfect night.
“I wonder what Alice is doing.” Last night, she’d shared the couch with them. Which, okay, meant keeping his clothes on, because Sunday had been a special case and not one of their Fridays. Didn’t make the rightness any less. “You think she had a long day, too?”
Henry broke off from humming along with the music. “She may have. Mondays are almost universally reviled for just cause.”
“I could text her and see if she wants to unwind with us.” A movie, like last night. She’d been practically cuddly with her legs tucked up and her feet curled next to her. No, too easy to refuse in a text. He stabbed the cushion with his elbows and levered himself up. “Or I could run over—”
“Nude?” Henry palmed his chest and leaned in. “I think not.”
“Hey, being naked is one of my best selling points.” He’d get dressed anyway. Henry would never let him roam the halls without clothes. “I’m at my charmiest. Charmerist? Cha—”
“Most charming.” Henry laid a soft smile on him. Clear evidence of the charm offensive at work.
“Right, that.” Puffing out his chest, he tested the silent command to stay put. No give in Henry’s hold. “So I run over, knock on her door, and ask if she’s in the mood for a good time.”
“No.” Pine-green eyes darkened.
He’d bounced into foul territory. He backed down from his elbows to the couch and tried to circle around for the bliss he’d dropped along the way. Asking every day if Henry thought Alice would be ready to move in with them soon might be trying even Henry’s endless patience. Yesterday had been so perfect, though. The only pieces left undone were fucking each other to sleep and waking up for more this morning. But—oh, fuck.
“I love you, Henry. Without Alice, I mean.” He’d pedaled so hard toward threes-ville all these months, first because Henry wanted her long-term and then because they both did. But Henry hadn’t neglected him to pursue Alice. Way to repay him, begging all the time for more of their new lover. “If she never-ever chooses us full time, I still love you. You’re never not enough for me.”
Head tipped, Henry studied him.
Shit, had he said what he meant to? He might’ve fumbled the words. “I mean you’re always enough. More than enough. The, umm”—fuck, the highest point, the fancy one—“pinnacle of enough-ness.”
“My dear boy.” Smile returning, Henry squeezed his knee. “Your exuberance is well-meant, Jay. Your heart is always in the right place. I don’t doubt that.”
“But you think I’m pushing too hard, right?” Using an optimum-popcorn-reaching-distance argument last night to bring out Alice’s giggles, he’d insisted she take the middle seat. And then he’d flopped wider than his cushion, nudging her toward Henry until her little sock feet nestled against his thigh. Henry had oh-so-slowly taken advantage of the opportunity, resting his hand on her ankle like it belonged there. Which it did. “Making her feel cornered. Did she say something?”
He’d given her brunch and the whole afternoon alone with Henry yesterday so she could talk about what she wanted in place of the Friday they’d have to miss for Christmas. But when he’d gotten home from his bike ride, she and Henry hadn’t been wearing post-fucking happy faces. They’d gone to a museum. A museum. Jesus. Without his encouragement—okay, fine, pushing—the two of them would stare longingly at each other for years without admitting what they wanted.
“Teasing her about our ‘date’ activities might have been sufficient for one week.” Henry prodded the tension down Jay’s legs and worked loose the tight-strung arches in his feet. “Her behavior suggested the insinuation discomfited her.”
The teasing before he’d left yesterday? He’d barely stayed three minutes—suggesting Henry’d only invited her over to fuck her. As if she meant no more to them. Dammit. He’d just been so sure the brunch idea would work after Alice’s pancake-craving last Tuesday. And Henry had taken his idea and left her the note Thursday, and Alice had said yes. All the notches lining up for the perfect forever joints, and he’d been the glue. Nobody could be expected to contain that big a mountain of excitement. “Was she mad? I wanted her to be happy and have fun and not worry so much.”
“A bit prickly, perhaps. Easily remedied, on this occasion.” Henry closed his eyes. His fingers slowed, his long strokes matching the drowsy violins sinking into deeper notes. “She must trust we are able to adhere to the boundaries in her contract. Suggesting otherwise is stressful for her.”
The contract. Alice’s fell far short of his. A few hours every other week. She could’ve negotiated daily support and encouragement. Homework assignments. Shared meals. Emergency naked cuddling on a bad day.
He snuggled in tighter, tucking his ass against Henry’s thigh. “But you’d give her everything she needs. I know you would.” Their life together would be as perfect as his dreams. “You want to. I want to. Why won’t you just tell her?”
Henry tipped his head back against the couch. “You embrace your feelings in an instant and welcome all the love I give you with a joyful heart.” He sighed, lower than the violins, and fine lines crowded the corners of his eyes. His stare weighed more than a hundred soaked-through backpacks. “But when you travel to your parents’ home this week, will you tell them you love me?”
“I—” Only in fantasies. The ones where he wasn’t always-in-the-way Jay, the unnecessary fifth child. The oops baby who’d made Mom sick. Jay who should stop pursuing silly dreams and failures and instead get his life on track. Jay who just had to meet so-and-so, the friend of a friend of his sister’s. “I can’t.” His family’s expectations grew heavier the longer he carried them. Someday he’d have to decide whether to stop fighting. Or heave as hard as he could and hope Henry would yank him free before the weight crushed him. But not yet. Not yet, not yet. “I’m sorry, Henry. I just—”
“Shh.” Henry pulled him up and wrapped his arms around him. One solid hand landed on the back of Jay’s neck. “I know. You have reasons, and you have fears. Do you believe Alice does not?”
“But she’s Alice.” Independent and fearless. No one told Alice what to do. Except Henry. But she didn’t answer to him all the time, and not to anyone else, either. She didn’t even have older siblings, just a little sister. Nobody questioned her choices. She didn’t have flaws to make her doubt herself. “She doesn’t have to hide.”
“She has different fears.” Stroking his back, Henry nestled their heads together. Cheek to cheek, he breathed across Jay’s ear the way he did when they fucked, heated and slow, with a possessive growl. “The neat rules and expectations of our arrangement are less frightening to her than the chaos of love. When we push her, she retreats, and I must coax her out of hiding.” Henry tightened his fingers into the perfect not-letting-go grip. “Please do not make her challenges more difficult. You’ll hurt Alice in the process.”
Not just Alice. Henry, in a whisper, rang alarms louder than any shout. From the beginning he’d called expanding their relationship to include Alice a delicate masterpiece. The kind artists captured with years of work in tiny bursts of perfection and agonizing revisions of imperfection.
“And you.” The aches of the day faded beneath the sharpness of his betrayal. More and more these last few months, he’d challenged Henry’s leadership. Tried to rush his lovers toward the destination he’d picked for them. Had he been serving them or himself? “I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“Forgiven.” With a hard kiss, Henry claimed him. The pull, the devouring, secured Jay’s place in the world. However Alice fit in, whenever she chose to accept her own rightful relationship with them, she wouldn’t push him aside. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Jay.” A steady rain of gentler kisses followed the downpour. “You want to share all of your joy with your playmate. It’s a beautiful sentiment, and I have hope we will reach that point. For now, however, we must try to temper your impulses.”
He’d work harder at patience to make the transition easier for all of them. Trust the dreams of togetherness would come true soon. Step one, tone down prodding her to rely on them more. Stop overwhelming her with excitement. Try, at least. “Can I apologize to Alice?” Her spread thighs beckoned, her lips rosy and wet between dark golden curls. “A regular apology, I mean. Not a special one.” That kind would wait for a Friday, and he wouldn’t beg Henry for permission days and days beforehand. Maybe just one day. “Tomorrow?”
Henry tipped him back with a tight clutch at the nape of his neck. “My eager boy.”
Guilty as charged. And damn happy to be so.
“If she broaches the subject at your lunch, you may apologize for your exuberant brashness. However—” Henry wagged a teasing finger and tapped the tip of Jay’s nose. “If she does not, do not speak of it. Doing so would merely encourage her to dwell upon the exchange as a source of concern. I will address her avoidance myself on our next evening together.”
Easy enough. Henry would fix any apple carts he’d upset. And Jay would do a better job of not knocking them over from now on. “Thank you, Henry.” A yawn overtook him. Swinging his hand up to cover, he managed to miss his own mouth and smack Henry’s wrist. “Sorry.”
“Bedtime, I believe.”
“But it’s so”—he yawned again—“early.”
“Indeed it is.” Henry trailed one finger up Jay’s cock. “Early to bed, early to rise.”
“Bedtime.” He hopped to his feet and tried to pull Henry up with him. He felt a second wind coming on. “Bedtime for sure.”
Jay let Alice do the talking Tuesday. He’d hit on the strategy of safety in silence on his ride over, and thank God for that. The only sentences his lips wanted to form, he couldn’t repeat out loud. Come to bed.
Henry had said he’d given her an open invitation for a replacement night. She could show up tonight if she wanted, straight from work, in her sweater with the red-and-black diamond checks. With her wheat-blond hair pulled free of the loose bun she’d piled it in.
Come over tonight, Alice. Spend the night with us.
The thoughts rolled through like prayers. More heartfelt than the ones he’d memorized in church as a little kid. Henry and Alice populated a whole new vision of heaven. If he thought hard enough, surely she’d hear him.
Your seat at the table is always empty, Alice.
The dining room hadn’t felt the same since their dinner in August. If the unfulfilled hopes wouldn’t make her distance harder on Henry, Jay would’ve set a place for her each night.
There’s room in the bed for you.
She crumbled her second pack of soup crackers on the last of her chili, his pleas unheard. He’d have to think harder to make her show up tonight.
We’re saving the space just for you.
Her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl as she stirred.
Please, Alice. Please pick us.
Henry couldn’t have felt this same unbearable impatience piling up behind his neutral I’m-studying-you face and encouraging smiles at the beginning of Jay’s training. All those weeks Henry had waited for Jay to prove his strength. His readiness for honest submission, for the hard work of learning to put himself first and exploring his own needs. God. How hard did he have to think-pray at Alice before she’d hear him?
We love you.
Hazel eyes met his gaze. Alice sucked her spoon clean and pointed it at him. “What’s up?”
Holy shit, he’d done it. Fuck, what to think next. Start over, get her to hear the part about coming over—
“Jay?”
Too fast. “Huh?”
“You smirked, and I know I don’t have mustard on my face.” Widening her eyes, she dipped her head. “Because I’m eating chili. No mustard. So there’s none on my face.” Her sweet smile slipped into a frown. “And now you’re not laughing. You wanna talk about it?”
“Just thinking.” Very, very hard. Tell Henry you want your makeup night.
She settled her spoon in the bowl and stretched her arm across the table. Her fingers landed on his forearm. “About?”
“Henry.”
“Because you’re leaving tomorrow?” She squeezed his arm and let go. “You worried you’ll miss him a lot over the holidays?”
“Tomorrow, yeah.” Unless Alice showed up at their door tonight, he wouldn’t get to be part of whatever she requested. “Henry’ll be by himself all day.” Take the hint, Alice. “Thursday, too. He’ll be all alone for two whole nights.”
She tapped his sneaker under the table with her foot. “Bet he’ll appreciate the quiet.”
Not when Henry’s alternative included listening to Alice’s trembly moans as she wriggled beneath him. But her attention had been a total fluke. He’d failed, again, to help bring the three of them together. She hadn’t heard Jay’s prayers. She just meant to tease him into a happy mood. Resisting would make her suspicious.
He chased her foot back across the table’s wide metal support bar. “You saying I’m a handful?”
Shooting him a slow blink and a sultry smile, she leaned in on her elbows. “Don’t undersell yourself, stud. You’re more than a handful.”
Fuck. He hadn’t been a minute ago, but he might be now. His cock surged forward, and he almost followed. “I—you—”
She burst out laughing. “You always get to be Mr. Innuendo and I’m the straight man. Tables are turned now, mister.”
Christ, the pink in her cheeks and the strands of hair slipping free of her bun offered no help in calming down his whole lap region. He shook his head and stared at the ceiling, drawing out the game until the water stains and the sunken light bulbs near-blinded him. “You’re a straight man? Then I need a remedial lesson in sex ed. You should come over tonight. We can play summer school in December.”
Her laughter stopped. She retreated across the table and fussed with her napkin.
One day. No, not even a whole day—one lunch. An hour. He’d tried his damnedest, and his mouth still shot out pleas bundled up as teasing. He’d have more confessing to Henry to do tonight. “Alice—”
“Nope.” Raising her head, Alice took a deep breath and smiled at him. “It’s your last night in town before the holiday. You and Henry deserve to spend it with each other.”
We’d rather spend it with you.
But he’d wake up every morning and try harder to let her discover that joy for herself. Stop taking a hammer to Henry’s delicate work. Force joints too far, too fast, and he’d crack the wood and ruin the project. Winter woes. Aching joints. Come spring, the pain would pass.
And today—today, he’d let her be. His gift to Henry and Alice both would be serving them better.
“Yup, home’ll be hollering for me in the morning.” He’d take the bus up to Nashua and ride in with his brother’s family, and by the time they arrived, Peggy would’ve called him half a dozen times to check their progress.
Alice raised her water in a toast. “To a very merry Christmas.”
The plastic cups clacked.
“Merry Christmas, Alice.”