Evan woke up in the same place, both physically and mentally, he’d woken up in for the last week. Being wrapped in Jackson’s blankets while wearing his clothes kept Evan ensconced in Jack’s scent and made Evan feel safe, at least until he realized that he was again lying in his boyfriend’s king-size bed all by himself. He let out a labored sigh and closed his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to be tangled up in Jackson. Their limbs were like strings intertwined through every crook and nook. Mouths rested against skin, always needing to be connected.
Evan ran his thumb over his lower lip and remembered how it vibrated slightly when he pressed it against his lover’s pulse points, feeling the life move through him, becoming alive himself. Sighing, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, hoping, as always, that he’d somehow erase reality, and when he opened them again, Jackson would be by his side. Realizing he had no such luck, Evan reached for his bowl and packed it full of weed, glad that at least altering his mind helped him cope a bit more. He took a long hit off the pipe, letting the weed burn his lungs and then his brain, dulling the pain and the memories.
Glancing at his phone, he sighed when he saw that it was noon. He needed to get back to his place and show his face. He’d been avoiding Kane for too long, and if the slew of aggravated texts were anything to go by, his brother was beginning to get suspicious. Jamal had been more like a brother to Kane than Evan had ever been, and Kane was reeling from Jamal’s murder. The thought of facing Kane’s grief, knowing he was the one who caused it, was too much of a mindfuck to deal with when he was attempting to cope with his boyfriend’s incarceration. So he did what he did best: avoided the situation by pretending he didn’t exist. He wished he could do the same with Jackson, but he loved him too much.
The knock at the door startled him at first, but excited him when he considered what it meant.
“Come in,” he called, giving Amy a half grin when she opened the door.
“Wake and bake, huh?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows skeptically, like Jackson did.
Evan shrugged.
“Brought you a donut for breakfast, lunch, or whatever you call it when you sleep so goddamn late,” Amy teased lightly. “He’s going to call in ten.”
He scrambled to his feet, knowing the best part of his day was moments away.
“Still too small on you,” Amy remarked with a shake of her head as she regarded too much of Evan’s lanky legs showing in her brother’s boxers.
He didn’t respond, deciding instead to walk into the kitchen and shove the breakfast pastry into his mouth. When Amy’s phone rang, he tried to grab it out of her hand, but a swift elbow to his ribs had him retreating and following her into the living room like a lost puppy dog.
“I’ll accept,” she stated, sitting down on the couch and glaring at Evan, who plopped himself down too close to her with hopes of hearing his boyfriend’s voice sooner rather than later. “Hey, Jack.” She paused. “Everything’s all right. Just chilling on the sofa with my new roomie.” She let out a sarcastic scoff. “Done with me already? Should I be insulted?” She handed the phone to Evan. “It’s for you.”
Evan took the phone from her hand and lay back against the armrest, immediately curling up into a protective ball. “Jack.”
“Hey.”
“I miss you,” Evan admitted softy, as if Amy hadn’t heard him utter the same sentiment at least twenty times by now.
“I miss you too, baby,” he replied in a voice so low it was obvious he had other inmates on the pay phones beside him. “I’m glad you’re still staying with Amy.”
“Got to go back to my house at some point,” Evan stated. “Just don’t want to face them.” He glanced at Amy and turned his head away to whisper, “And I like being in your bed. Smells like you.”
“Fuck,” Jackson mumbled with a sigh. “Wish I was there. Want to…” He paused and cleared his throat as if he was swallowing the words.
“Want to what?” Evan pressed, standing up and moving to the chair like the extra few feet would make it more difficult for Amy to hear. She was busying herself picking lint off her shirt, but stealthily listening to every word.
“Feel you,” he confessed. “Fuck, I want to feel you.” He clicked his tongue. “So empty without you.”
Evan wiped the tears that were falling rapidly off his cheeks. He wondered if he’d cried this much when he was a baby; had anybody noticed then? Because Amy definitely noticed, tossing him a box of tissues.
“You cry too much,” Jackson chided without malice. “Never thought you were a fucking crier.”
“Yeah, well, I never gave a shit enough to cry about anything I guess. Seems like I give a shit about you.”
“Seems like you do,” Jackson agreed. Evan could hear the smile in his tone. “It’s good ‘cause I do, too.”
“Did you talk to your lawyer? Any more news about your sentence?”
“Got my hearing tomorrow and Hank told me the sentencing will most likely be on Thursday.”
“I want to be there,” Evan stated, earning him a shake of the head from Amy and a soft “Know you can’t come” from Jackson. “You’re telling me it could be two fucking years, Jack, and you’re not going to let me show up?” he cried. “Come the fuck on.”
“Ain’t safe, all right?” he snapped in a harsh whisper. “Don’t stop being affiliated in prison. Got a set in here.” His voice got impossibly lower. “Some of your boys, too.”
“So that’s it then? Not going to even get to lay my eyes on you?” The outburst earned him a warning from Amy and an annoyed “Don’t make it more difficult for him.”
“It’s been a week, Goodwyn. Pull it the fuck together,” Jackson groused. “Going to have, like, one hundred and three more. Can’t do this every time I talk to you.”
“I can’t fucking take it.”
“Ain’t going to blame you if you don’t wait for me, but I fucking hope you will,” Jackson stated, tone even again. “I love you.”
“I…” Evan let out of a sputtering sigh, “love you too. Just wish you’d let me visit. I don’t even have my…” he squeezed his eyes shut, “paintings. Miss your fucking face.”
“Fucking my face?” Jackson questioned with a laugh.
“That too,” he admitted. “Got the prettiest fucking mouth. Miss those lips, such full lips.”
“Holy shit,” Amy exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and throwing her hands up. “That’s my brother’s ‘pretty’ mouth.’”
“Your sister doesn’t like when I compliment you,” Evan deadpanned, causing Amy to give him the finger.
“I do. Go in the other room,” Jack said quietly. “Got another two minutes.”
Evan hurried into his boyfriend’s bedroom, slammed the door shut behind him, and lay down on the bed, palming his dick over Jackson’s boxers. “Wake up rock-hard for you every morning.”
“That right?”
“Mmmhmm,” Evan confirmed. “Got me touching myself all the time. Thinking of you.”
“Better fucking be.”
“Only you,” Evan promised. “Think of you sleeping face down on the bed, that thick ass uncovered by the sheets. You’re still nice and stretched from all the fucking that knocked you out. I crawl on top of you and slide my big dick in. You’re so warm. So perfect around me.”
“Sounds good.”
“Love burying my face in your neck, whispering shit in your ear.”
“What kinda shit?” Jackson asked, sounding strained.
“How you’re such a good boy for me, take my cock so nice. How I love you, never loved anybody the way I love you. Can’t wait to fuck you for the rest of our lives.”
“Our lives, huh?”
“Yeah.” Evan felt his face flush at the admission. “You got a problem with that?”
“Not at all,” Jackson replied earnestly. “Don’t got a problem with that at all.”
They sat in silence, just listening to the breathing between them; so far away, but still feeling the closeness.
“So you’ll wait for me?” Jackson asked, breaking the silence. “Sounds like you’re going to wait.”
“Of course I will,” Evan assured him. “You’re the love of my life, man. The fuck can I do?” There had to be something he could do, he just wasn’t sure what it was yet.
“Goddamn, I love you,” Jackson muttered, the pain evident in his voice.
“So hearing tomorrow? Sentencing Thursday? Then we’ll know how long you’re in for.”
“Yup.”
“Thursday.”
“That’s what they tell me,” Jack replied. “I got to go. Some fat fuck named Skank is pounding his fists.” He paused so he could huff at the man waiting for the phone, “Yeah, hold the fuck on, you tubby tank of shit.” He lowered his voice again. “I’ll call around the same time tomorrow. Amy’s phone, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Evan said with a sniffle. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Evan hung up and walked the phone back to Amy, who took it between her fingers like it was contaminated. “You better not have spooged on it.”
Evan rolled his eyes and laughed. “All clear.”
“Good.” She looked at him expectantly. “It’s hard, right?”
“Not easy.”
“I think you guys will make it work though. Two years isn’t too bad.”
“It’s going to feel like thirty, but we’ll be a’ight.” He sighed and shook his head. “I got to go back to my house for a while. May stay over there tonight.”
“You got a key now, so come over whenever,” Amy offered. “Not going to bring anyone around.”
“Thanks,” he said before going back into Jackson’s room and getting dressed. “Hey, Amy,” he called as he zipped up his jacket. “Let me get your cell number.”
She leaned against the doorway and caught the phone Evan tossed to her. “Here you go,” she said once she’d typed it in. “Make sure you eat something other than the donut today, okay?”
He grinned at her and tousled up her hair as he passed by and headed out the door. As he walked back to his house, he looked at her number and repeated it aloud to himself, trying to commit it to memory.
He knew he’d be using it soon.