Page 5 of Fortress (A Monster By Any Other Name #4)
F or Tobias, the days between Christmas and the New Year blinked past, moving from lazy mornings in the apartment (curling so close to Jake that Tobias could count every individual rise and fall of his chest) to exploring the city. It was strange after so long on the road to stay in one place, to have days to explore a town undisturbed by ghosts or lurking monsters. Tobias wanted, in a way he hadn’t been able to want things for most of his life, to see what there was around him.
After visiting the Boulder tourist office, they went to the local university’s natural history museum and wandered through the exhibits. Tobias had a hard time looking away from the Navajo rugs, bold patterns grabbing the eye even after centuries of wear and time. He had to correct Jake that they were looking at a triceratops skull, not some medieval dragon. Jake wasn’t that interested in the informational plaques next to each exhibit, but judging by the smile he couldn’t quite hide, he didn’t mind Tobias reading out the highlights.
Though Jake was maybe too appreciative of the weaponry and axe-heads in another display. Tobias might not know as much as he wanted about real customs, but he was pretty sure that Jake shouldn’t have referred to them as “fucking awesome decapitators” quite so loudly.
They returned to the Boulder public library another day, which Tobias found both familiar and not. Like with the bagel shop and their first night back in the apartment, walking into the library gave Tobias an odd feeling of dissonance. While he couldn’t identify significant changes other than new book displays, nothing looked—no, nothing felt the same. He was seeing these places now without the paralyzing terror that had distorted everything before.
New Year’s Eve, they ended up back in the park, surrounded by fellow Boulderites (couples, friends, families) gazing up together as fireworks burst across the crisp winter sky. The loud pop and crackle of fireworks first made Tobias jump, but as nothing happened but a spray of pretty lights across the sky, and with the safety of Jake’s arm around his back, he relaxed.
The crowd counted down together the last seconds of the year, and when they shouted, “Happy New Year!” Tobias almost spilled his hot cocoa as Jake turned him, kissing him sweet as a whole cluster of fireworks burst at once.
A brand-new year, and the first of his life outside Freak Camp—the life Jake had given him.
Jake hated the idea of Tobias owing him anything. More specifically, that Tobias would do something only because he thought he owed it to Jake.
But Tobias wasn’t afraid anymore. He just needed to find a way to persuade Jake that he was ready. They were ready.
The morning of January 5th, Tobias woke again before dawn, but instead of closing his eyes until he fell back asleep, he slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen. He tried to be absolutely quiet, but no matter how silently he could move, he couldn’t stop the microwave from humming or manage to catch it before the timer ran down and started beeping. He winced at that, keeping one ear tuned to bedroom. When he heard the first creak of the mattress, he rushed back down the hallway.
“You have to stay in bed!” he announced to Jake, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and looking befuddled, his hair standing up in all directions. Tobias made a pushing gesture with his hands, imploring. “Just a few more minutes. I’ll be back.”
“Uh.” Jake looked like he was fighting a grin, but he composed himself as he scratched the back of his head. “I was gonna go take a piss? Then I’ll get straight back to bed, I swear.”
“Yeah. Yes. That’s fine. I’ve got... you’ll see. Just... stay.” Tobias backed out of the room.
Five minutes later, he had everything balanced precariously on the pizza pan, mugs rattling against the plate and bowl with every tremble of his hands. He set the whole thing down on the counter, then inhaled and exhaled slowly before rubbing his palms dry on his pajama pants and picking it up again.
He didn’t drop it on the way to the bedroom. He didn’t think he would, even with the hand trembles that he couldn’t seem to control. But he was more nervous than he had expected, more aware of the old pressure to perform perfectly , more afraid of failure (and its consequences) than he had felt in a while.
Ironically, it was the familiar weight of that fear, the training that had drummed into him the importance of performance over any demand of body or soul, that kept his pace even to the bedroom, kept the laden dishes neatly balanced. He didn’t dare to look at Jake’s face as he entered. He was sure—he believed that this was a good gift. Not nearly what Jake deserved for his twenty-first birthday, of course, not nearly equal to anything that he’d given Tobias, but there was never a chance of that. It was something, though, and something that Tobias could do. Something that a real might do for someone precious.
“Whoa, whoa,” Jake said. “Did you make a grub run while I wasn’t looking?” He was sitting against the wall behind the bed, comforter dragged up to his waist but not quite covering the ribbon of skin around his navel. Tobias could see that much, even without looking up, still watching his feet, watching the carpet. When he got close enough, Jake reached out to take the pizza pan, carefully closing his fingers around the edge next to where Tobias’s held it in a white-knuckled grip. When he settled the tray on his lap, Tobias breathed in relief and raised his eyes.
Jake blinked down at the instant oatmeal, bacon, eggs, and mugs of coffee on the tray, like he’d forgotten what exactly someone was supposed to do with food appearing in one’s lap. His face was flushed, warm even with only a thin T-shirt covering his chest, so maybe Tobias had made the meal too hot, left the oatmeal in the microwave too long even though he’d followed the packaged directions perfectly.
“I may not have done it right,” Tobias said in a rush. “I mean, it may not be any good. I microwaved the bacon like you showed me and tested a piece just to make sure it wasn’t, you know”— freak food , he didn’t say, but rushed on—”and it’s not as greasy as you like it, but—”
“Toby,” Jake said, and it was quiet, but Tobias shut his mouth immediately. When Jake met his eyes, heat warmed Tobias’s cheeks. “You just made this,” Jake said, “the most awesome birthday ever.”
Tobias had to look down, even as he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “I read about it. It seemed like—something I could do for you. And I wanted—” Tobias stopped to take a breath and raise his eyes. “I wanted to bring you food, like—like you used to bring me.”
Something moved in Jake’s face, and he reached recklessly for Tobias over the tray. Tobias met him halfway for the kiss, one hand on Jake’s hand, the other stabilizing the coffee cups.
When they came up for breath, Jake studied the array of food. “You better have a plate in there for yourself. It’s my birthday. You don’t want me eating alone on my birthday.”
Tobias grinned again and pulled a spare plate from under the heaping plate of scrambled eggs. “I tasted a couple things already, but figured w-we could share.” He pulled a fork and spoon from the pocket of his pajamas. Jake kissed him again—quick, sloppy, wonderful—and reached for the fork on the tray.
What the hell Jake Hawthorne ever did to deserve someone like Toby in his life, he had no fucking clue. Breakfast in bed , hot damn. He was going to need the next three months just to figure out what to do for Toby’s birthday. He’d have to find the right balance between awesome and sappy and definitely drop some hints ahead of time to make sure that whatever he did was perfect. Nothing would suck more than trying to make Toby smile and ending up giving him a panic attack with oranges or some shit like that.
He was mulling over possibilities (maybe he’d take Toby to one of those old-fashioned concerts where everyone sits down quietly the whole time, or maybe a science museum or an aquarium; he always geeked out over the Discovery channel) when Toby casually asked, “So, do you know where you’re going out tonight?”
“Out?” Jake chomped down the last strip of bacon. “Didn’t know I was going out tonight.”
“Of course you are.” Toby made a slight face, as though Jake was being ridiculous on purpose.”According to all my sources, twenty-first birthdays are a very big deal, traditionally celebrated by copious amounts of alcohol and other forms of debauchery.”
Jake laughed—the kid was just so matter-of-fact about it—and Toby relaxed into a grin. “It’s true,and you shouldn’t miss out. You only turn twenty-one once, you know.”
“Well, that depends on the date on the IDs.” Jake smirked.
But Toby pressed on, delivering his opinions on twenty-first birthdays with the same earnestness he brought to hunt research and high school precalculus. “I figured I could bring a book and stay in the car, or hang out inside the bar if you want, and I’ll be your designated driver at the end of the night. Or the morning. Whenever you’re done.”
Jake rolled his eyes.”Toby, you’re not my chauffeur. I’m not stashing you in the car or at a back table while I get wasted.If I’m going out for my twenty-first, we’re going together.”
Toby shifted his weight on the bed. “But if I’m there...” He took a deep breath. “It’s also traditional to get l-laid on a twenty-first birthday, and—if you want to reconsider the P-PG rule. I-I’d be okay with that,” he said, very quietly, and looking straight into Jake’s eyes. “We could, tonight. I’d like that, with you.”
Jake’s stomach flipped on too much eggs and oatmeal, and he sucked in a steadying breath as he reached for Toby’s arm.”Toby, I’m not—we’re not there yet.” And you’re not handing me your body as a fucking birthday present .
Toby’s eyes dropped, his mouth pressed in a thin line. “Then I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding someone who would love a chance to—to go to b-bed with you.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t—wait, what ? Toby—”
“This is your twenty-first birthday, Jake,” Toby said with finality.”You’re supposed to get—l-laid. I know that. If you won’t sleep with me, you should find someone else.”
Jake blinked, opened his mouth to reply, closed it, opened it again to take a couple rapid, irregular breaths. “Toby... I... That’s not gonna happen. Can we drop this now and just finish our fuck—our breakfast? It’s really fucking good.”
“It would be—” Something in Jake’s face or tone (yeah, maybe he was talking a little faster than he usually did or something) stopped him. Toby ducked his head and said instead, “I’m glad you like it,” before turning his attention to finishing his half of the food.
Through the day, Jake tried to focus on the food, Toby’s smile, their drive through the mountains to catch a view, the burgers and Cokes they got for lunch at a greasy spoon they’d found just after Christmas, and it worked, it all worked, it was a fucking wonderful day. But every now and then, when he caught the profile of Toby’s smile, when he found himself looking at Toby’s fingers just brushing his thigh as he smoothed a paper napkin out across his lap, he could hear Toby saying those words.
We could do it tonight. I’d like that with you.
The kicker wasn’t even the words, though Jake couldn’t shake those out of his head. It was the way he’d said it, the calm sincerity on his face as he sat on the fucking bed with him and offered... everything. Fuck, for all Jake knew, if he’d said “okay” right then, if he’d accepted Toby’s offer with the same stupidity that he’d had six months ago, then Toby would have laid back right then and...
Fuck. No, he couldn’t. Jake’s brain knew better. The big brain, at least. For all they had learned about each other over these months, Jake knew they still had disastrously different definitions of “okay” for that step.
The rest of Jake’s body, though. Couldn’t let it go, couldn’t come down from the surge of hormones from the minute Toby had— offered himself as Jake’s goddamn twenty-first birthday present.
Jake could make it good for Toby. He would take it oh-so-slow, make Toby smile, breathless and gasping all the way through. It would be so fucking good for both of them. Sweet and perfect and everything that Jake could imagine, and Toby had actually said that he would be ready, willing to try and wanting, tonight.
When the fantasies threatened to distract him from whatever Toby was saying to him, Jake had to clear his head any way he could, because none of that was happening. Not tonight, not anytime soon. That was just the way it was, the way it fucking had to be, because they weren’t there yet. He just had to stop thinking about it.
At one point, he managed maybe ten minutes. Tops.