Page 20
16 JASON
Irritation prickles at Jason. He knows they’re here to chaperone. He knows someone needing him is part of what he signed up for. It’s just that when he volunteered, he hadn’t realized his feelings for Emerson were more than platonic or that Emerson would end up at homecoming with him. Picking Emerson up had been the most glorious torture, the sight of him in his stylish green suit enough to convince Jason that he is definitely not straight and that he wanted to kiss Emerson, possibly more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone in his entire life.
Knowing Emerson’s lack of experience in the way of romance and intimacy, he’d done his best to be both upfront about his feelings while taking things slow and being a gentleman. But fuck it all if Emerson’s trusting gaze and pretty eyes hadn’t made Jason feel like a horny, lovesick teenager. Then Emerson had gone and uttered three words that had irrevocably changed something in him—Jason and Emmy. Their names spoken together like that, as if the two of them were a pair. Aside from Theo, he’d never wanted to be a pair with anyone. Sure, he’d had girlfriends, but most of them had lost interest when they realized Jason wasn’t going to ditch football or Theo for them.
For years, it's been a non-issue. He’d tried to date but never felt a real spark with anyone, nor had he ever met someone who’d wanted to join their life with his without changing the most important parts to Jason, such as his relationship with Theo and football. After his last girlfriend cheated on him, he figured maybe he should lay off relationships entirely because he clearly wasn’t going to find the right girl. Then came Emerson, with his adorable resting frowny face and his endless opinions on everything, from books to the shape toast should be cut into, making Jason feel things . Emerson, who gets along with his best friend in a way no one else ever has. Emerson, who exchanged emails with his older brother to trade book recs and made Alec laugh with a deadpan joke about hobbits that Jason still doesn’t understand. Emerson, who doesn’t even like football but delights in sharing in Jason’s stories about games and practice.
Emerson Miller, the man who makes Jason want things he’s never wanted with anyone. Despite all their differences, Emerson has situated himself in Jason’s life in ways that make it impossible for him to remember what it’d been like before he came along. How is Jason supposed to go back out to the dance now? How is he even supposed to function now that he’s kissed a man, knows what that man tastes like, and what kinds of sounds he makes when he’s aroused?
“I’m still waiting.”
The groan Jason lets out is loud. This cannot be happening.
“Caldwell,” Jason yells, flinging the door open while plastering on the fakest smile possible. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you make Emerson chaperone in your place?”
“That’s not really any of your concern, Mr. King.”
Irritation makes Jason grit his teeth. Caldwell is such an ass.
“Well, to what do I owe this unexpected…visit?”
Caldwell’s entire face twitches. “You aren’t controlling your players.”
“What are they doing?” Jason asks, immediately switching into teacher mode.
“They’re being rambunctious,” Caldwell says, spitting with the force of it as if their exuberance has offended him. “Control them.”
“I’m sure they’re just having fun,” Jason offers, relaxing now that he knows it's nothing major. “We won last night you know and?—”
“I don’t care if your players win the Super Bowl?—”
“That’s the NFL, not high school,” Jason points out.
Caldwell appears deeply annoyed at being corrected. “I do not care, Mr. King. The point stands. You should be out there ensuring?—”
“Ensuring what?” Jason asks when he stops speaking.
“Ensuring your players don’t do something improper,” Caldwell finishes, words directed to Jason even as his gaze focuses behind him. Jason doesn’t need to turn around to know exactly what, or more accurately who, he’s staring at. “Mr. Miller, I’m surprised to find you here. Given recent transgressions I assumed you’d take this more seriously.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“Regardless,” Caldwell interrupts, not even letting Emerson finish. “I’m sure you’ll return to the dance and ensure you set a good example for the students. Perhaps being new here you don’t quite understand the implications of all your actions. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a job to do. I expect you’ll both do yours as well.”
With that he departs, leaving Jason staring at his back and Emerson groaning behind him.
“Recent transgressions,” Emerson repeats, his offense palpable. “I don’t have any! They already finished the investigation and Mrs. Hernandez agreed we did nothing wrong. Was getting me to chaperone just some kind of power play? I don’t understand, Jason. I didn’t do anything.”
“I know, Emmy.” Jason moves to pull him into a hug. Emerson is stiff, agitation rolling off him in waves, but Jason just squeezes him tightly the way he knows Emerson likes. “Don’t take it personally. Caldwell is a cranky son of a bitch. We don’t give headspace to people like him.”
“When you say ‘ we ’, I know you don’t mean me,” Emerson replies, sagging in Jason’s hold. “My brain gives headspace to everyone. I’ll probably go over this conversation in my head for the next ten years.”
“I could give you something else to think about for the next ten years,” Jason suggests, offering Emerson a wide smile when he pulls out of the hug.
“Are you flirting?” Emerson asks. “Or trying to distract me? I can’t tell.”
“Both,” Jason laughs, his annoyance with Caldwell fading now that he’s once again alone with Emerson. He meant what he said. He’s pissed at Caldwell, but given the choice between thinking about him or Emerson, it’s no contest. Jason will pick Emerson every time.
“We can’t,” Emerson protests, though it pleases Jason to note the disappointment in his tone. “You heard Caldwell. We have a job to do.”
“We do,” Jason agrees. As much as he wants to stay hidden away with Emerson, he also knows he’s the best man for the job to reel in his kids' excitement without trampling their spirits. “But uh, before we go out there I need to ask you one thing.”
“What is it?” Emerson questions.
“It’s a good question, I hope,” Jason stalls, wishing the door were shut so he could hold Emerson the way he wants.
He’s never hesitated to touch Emerson before, but something about Caldwell’s accusatory tone and stare has Jason’s hackles on edge. He doesn’t want to do anything that might draw more attention to Emerson when he’s clearly already anxious.
“Alright,” Emerson replies.
“Will you come home with me?” Jason asks, unsure which of them is more surprised by the question—Emerson or him. He knows he should be playing it cool, but he doesn’t think he knows how to be subtle or casual. Emerson’s expression remains unchanged, the slight downturn of his lips making it impossible to read his feelings from his facial expression. If Jason didn’t know him so well, he would almost think Emerson isn’t interested. What gives him away is the way he twists the ring on his finger.
Unable to hold himself back, Jason reaches out to squeeze Emerson’s wrist. “Just so you know, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“You don’t want it to mean anything?” Emerson says, voice so low Jason can barely hear the words over the music from the gym.
Jason’s heart falls to the floor. Shit. That was not what he meant at all, and clearly he needs to be even more direct.
“Everything with you means something because it’s you. I only meant that we don’t have to do anything, not even kiss more, if you don’t want to. Although, I really hope you want to because kissing you was maybe the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I don’t want you to feel pressured because I want to do it right, treat you right, you know because you’ve never done any of this before.”
“So you only want me to come over and maybe kiss because I’m inexperienced?”
In hindsight, perhaps there’s more than one reason Jason couldn’t keep a girlfriend beyond lack of sparks. Jason could almost laugh at how embarrassingly bad he’s fucking this all up if the scrunch of Emerson’s confused brow isn’t making him want to cry.
Time to go for broke.
“I want you to come over so I don’t have to say goodbye to you,” Jason tells him, laying every single one of his cards on the table. “Once we go out there, I’m going to spend hours watching you from across the room, unable to hold you or touch you the way I desperately want. There's no way I can just drop you off at home after this when all I want to do is hold you and kiss you. Or do anything with you. Everything's better when you’re around, Emerson. Everything.”
Emerson’s jaw trembles. “Jason.”
“Please come home with me, Emmy.”
“I—don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Me either,” Jason admits, taking one step closer. Trying to stay away from Emerson is like ignoring a gravitational pull. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, Emmy. I’m in uncharted fucking territory here. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone, and you know, you’re also a man which was a bit of a shock, let me tell you.”
“What if it’s too much?”
“We can talk about that and all the other questions you wrote down on your phone later. If you don’t want to come home with me tonight, nothing has to change. I still want to take you on that date. I still want to be your friend. I?—”
“I want to,” Emerson admits, twisting his fingers so tightly it looks painfully. “But I’m scared.”
Jason’s exhale is a tenuous thing as he closes the space between them. One step for Emerson, the other for himself, lowering his forehead to rest it against Emerson’s. “We can be scared together then.”
“You don’t get scared,” Emerson whispers.
“I’m scared of this,” Jason admits, wrapping his arm around Emerson’s back. With the darkened lights and the position of Jason’s office, it's unlikely anyone can see them and if they do, it’s a risk he’s willing to take for Emerson.
“Because I’m a guy?”
“No, because you’re my Emmy.” Jason breathes him in, surprised to find he is the one trembling. Jason and Emmy. Jason and Emmy . He’s never wanted anyone the way he wants this beautiful man, and he suddenly understands a little bit of what Theo must’ve experienced, the kind of longing and desperation he must’ve felt that drove him to keep his burgeoning relationship with Jason’s younger brother a secret. Jason had been so angry and so hurt, not understanding how Theo could do what he’d done. He understands now because he knows, without a shadow of doubt, that he would do anything to keep Emerson.
Theo hadn’t betrayed Jason’s friendship. He’d fallen in love.
“I don’t want to fuck this up,” Jason whispers, holding Emerson just that little bit tighter. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re scared of losing me,” Emerson croaks as if it’s the most ludicrous thing he’s ever heard. “But you’re—you. You’re amazing. You are the best person I’ve ever known. I’m the one scared of losing you. I’m difficult and inexperienced and —”
Jason silences him with one final kiss, knowing they need to get back out to the dance but unable to leave this room until Emerson is more settled. If not completely, at least in where he stands with Jason.
“Whatever this is, we’re in it together. We’re a team. Team means family, whatever happens. Win or lose. You on my team, Emmy?”
Emerson offers a shaky exhale before nodding. “I’m on your team, Jason.”
* * *
“Do you need anything from your apartment?” Jason asks, feeling as nervous as a teenager on his first date.
They’d stayed so late to ensure all the students left safely and to begin some of the clean up, that the parking lot is entirely empty, leaving no one but Jason and Emerson standing underneath the too bright parking lot light.
“I don’t have a toothbrush or pajamas.”
“I’ve got a whole pack of extra toothbrushes from Costco under my sink,” Jason tells him. “And uh, you could wear mine. Well, I don’t wear pajamas. I usually just sleep in sweats and a t-shirt unless it’s too hot then I only sleep in my boxers.”
Emerson’s gaze is locked on his, unblinking. “You don’t mind if I wear your pajamas?”
“No,” Jason croaks, clearing his throat. Mind doesn’t begin to cover it. He’s never considered himself some kind of stereotypically possessive man, but the idea of seeing Emerson’s lanky, lithe body in his clothing does it for Jason.
Ever since he offered Emerson his hoodie when he was cold and had watched the way it dwarfed him, he’s been driven to distraction wanting to see it on him again. Jason knows he’s a big guy, it’s impossible to forget, but something about seeing proof of how much bigger than Emerson he is, makes him want to scream. Or maybe get Emerson in his bed and never let him out.
For over a year, Jason’s been happily acquainted with his right hand without complaint, yet one kiss from Emerson and he’s pretty sure he might die if Emerson doesn’t touch him. Not that he’s going to force him, or push for anything. He meant what he said before. Even if they do nothing tonight but cuddle, Jason will be over the fucking moon. He’s never wanted to be around someone the way he does Emerson.
“Are you sure? You look kind of stressed?”
“I’m trying not to get hard thinking about you in my clothes or in my bed,” Jason admits, because Emerson likes honesty, and he’s not sure he’s a good enough liar to pretend.
“You—oh.” Emerson licks his lips. “I thought—Charlie mentioned girls used to steal your stuff. I thought you wouldn’t like it. I’ve been meaning to give you your hoodie back.”
“Charlie’s got a big fucking mouth,” Jason grumbles. “Also, don’t you dare give it back.”
“Why?” Emerson asks, because of course he does.
In all things, Emerson wants the truth, uncomplicated and without preamble, and it’s what he’s going to get. Whatever happens with Emerson, it won’t fail because of communication, Jason will make sure of it.
“Because seeing you in that hoodie after you borrowed it at school a few weeks ago made me realize how much I like seeing you in my clothing.” Jason closes the small space between them, reaching for Emerson the way he’s been aching to do for hours. “I want to take you home and see you in my bed, in my clothes. I want you to smell like me.”
“I read a book like that once,” Emerson says, making Jason laugh.
“Was it a werewolf book? Pretty sure Andrew reads those. Then again, he reads a lot. I’m scared of his Kindle history.”
Emerson shakes his head, his voice going very high pitched. “Fairies.”
“Fairies, huh. Were you reading fairy porn, Emmy?”
“It’s not porn,” Emerson balks. “It’s romance with um, well, sex.”
“I’m just teasing,” Jason whispers, letting his fingers glide into Emerson’s beautiful, soft hair. In response, he tips his head back, throat exposed and eyes turning up to meet Jason’s. He trusts Jason, to touch, to be gentle, and Jason wants to scream with how good it feels. He’s not even doing more than playing with Emerson’s hair, and it’s so damn perfect.
“Do you mean it?” Emerson asks.
“Oh, Emmy. I mean everything I say.”
Emerson surges up, closing the distance between them in an unexpected kiss. It’s too forceful, his teeth scraping Jason’s lips and his hands scrambling at Jason’s suit, but the fact that Emerson—his sweet, never initiates physical contact Emerson—kissed him first makes this one of the best fucking kisses of Jason’s life.
When Emerson pulls back, his eyes are wide like he can’t believe what he just did. He touches his mouth, delicate fingers skimming over his equally delicate mouth. He really is beautiful.
“Ready to go home?” Jason asks, only realizing his slip up once the words are out of his mouth.
Part of him wants to correct himself but the truth is, he didn’t misspeak. Emerson’s been to his house enough now, albeit under different circumstances, that Jason wants it to feel like his home. He wants Emerson to feel welcome there, and safe.
“I’m ready,” Emerson nods, “but um, there’s just one thing I need from my apartment. I can’t sleep without it but?—”
“But what?” Jason prompts when Emerson trails off abruptly.
“I don’t want you to think it’s stupid.”
“Nothing about you is stupid. I’ve told you that.”
“ It’saplush ,” Emerson gets out in a jumbled rush. Before Jason can really comprehend what he’s said, Emerson continues. “My mom got it for me when I was a kid and it’s all I have left.”
“Emmy.”
“It’s my favorite. It’s a stuffed shark because I was obsessed with them when I was a kid, even though I’d never seen one in person. I had so many books, and I watched all the documentaries about them, so when I turned five my mom got me Sharky. After she died, and my aunt and uncle took me in, well, they didn’t want our stuff. They said it was pointless to spend money moving our things when they had a house that was furnished so they just…got rid of it all. My bed, my favorite blanket, all my toys. They said they’d buy me new ones, but I didn’t want new. I snuck it in my backpack because it fit in there for the plane ride. But Landon always stole it, so I had to hide him a lot, and then when I got older, he called me a baby for still having it. Maybe I shouldn’t get it. That’s probably not the kind of thing you bring to stay over with a man the first time, is it?”
A deep awareness of what it must have taken for Emerson to admit that hits Jason, and he pulls Emerson into a tight hug, needing to hold him close. Emerson melts into the embrace.
“Emmy,” Jason holds him close. “Do you want to go get your plush?”
When Emerson speaks, his words ghost across the side of Jason’s neck where he’s tucked his face. “Yes, please.”
Twenty-five minutes later, they’re pulling into Jason’s driveway. Jason’s hand is on Emerson’s knee while Emerson’s hands are curled protectively around his plush shark. Whether for comfort or from anxiety, Jason’s not sure.
“We’re here,” Jason tells him, giving his knee a gentle squeeze.
“Right.” Emerson undoes his seatbelt, holding Sharky close. Before he can get out of the truck, Jason’s all but flung himself out of his side and raced around to get the door, opening it up and offering his hand. Emerson’s lips twitch at the corner. “That was fast.”
“I’m a fast man,” Jason grins, chest fluttering when Emerson’s fingers make contact with his own. Their hands stay connected when Jason shuts the truck door, and locks it and on the walk to the front door. “Fair warning, the dogs are gonna wake up and be noisy shits, but I can put them in the garage if it’s too much.”
“I thought they usually slept in the bed with you,” Emerson says.
“They do. Sort of. Stella likes her dog bed in the corner and gets in bed when she wakes up. Freddie is a clingy little shit and sleeps on my legs or sometimes my head. But if that’s too much you can tell me.”
“We can try it out,” Emerson offers, which is probably about as bold as he’s likely to get. Jason will take it.
“You ready to be attacked by Stella?” Jason laughs, turning the lock in the door. As if they’ve been waiting on the other side, no sooner is he turning the doorknob then Stella barks loudly, followed by Freddie yapping. “I’m home, kids.”
Careful not to let Stella slip out the open door, Jason lets go of Emerson’s hands so he can hold her collar, leading her backwards to make room for Emerson to come inside. He drops to his knees so she can crowd into his personal space, licking and barking like she hasn’t seen Jason in a year.
“Did you miss Daddy?” Jason laughs, giving her a kiss on the top of head along with a few firm fur pets before turning to look for Freddie, who usually fights his way to Jason for attention when he’s been gone longer than normal. To his surprise, Freddie isn’t wailing beside them but over with Emerson who is also down on his knees. Freddie butts his head into Emerson’s chest as Emerson pets him, murmuring something too low to be heard that has Freddie’s paws doing their happy pitter patter.
Tucked under one arm is Sharky, under the other is Freddie. If Jason hadn’t already suspected he was falling hard for Emerson, the sight of his massive, scared-of-his-own-shadow pittie rescue being happily babied by him would be all it took. As it is, Jason is pretty sure he falls just a little bit more, and his heart definitely grows, its current size not nearly big enough for all the love he wants to give Emerson.
“What?” Emerson asks when he catches Jason staring.
It would be so easy to say nothing. All too easy to pretend he’s not falling hard and fast for Emerson. It would be the easiest thing in the world to play it cool, so he doesn’t get himself hurt. Luckily for Jason, he’s never once taken the easy way out and he doesn’t plan to start now.
“I like you here.”
“In the entryway?” Emerson asks, grinning like he knows he’s said something funny, and he’s proud of himself.
“Well sure, you look handsome everywhere.” Jason crawls towards Emerson on his knees, feeling a bit ridiculous but wanting to be closer. Stella follows suit, clearly unsure why Jason is practically crawling, barking when she mistakes it for some kind of game. Only Jason isn’t playing, not about this. “I meant here in my home, with my dogs. You look like you belong.”
“Jason.”
“I like you with me,” Jason continues, physically unable to stop. “Wherever I am is where I want you. I know that’s probably a little too fast, so you don’t need to feel pressured to say anything back but?—”
Emerson tackles him, and while Jason might have six inches and a hundred pounds on Emerson what he lacks in size he makes up for in speed. The tackle sends Jason crashing to the floor with a lap full of Emerson followed by two dogs, who take that as a permission to try and pile on too. His head thunks against the hardwood floor, which smarts, and he groans, rubbing the back of his head.
“Sorry,” Emerson mumbles above him, hair falling into his eyes and his beloved plush crushed between their chests. “Oh my god, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Jason assures him, unable to hold back his smile despite the slight twinge in his head. “By the way, full permission to tackle me any time, in any room. Bonus points if it happens on a bed sometime.”
“You would let me tackle you in bed?” Emerson asks.
Jason has to physically move Freddie’s giant head so he can see Emerson. “In case it wasn’t clear before, you can do anything you want to me.”
“Anything is really vague, Jason.”
“Yeah, it is,” Jason acknowledges, rubbing Freddie’s belly so he doesn’t get jealous. “Full disclosure, I don't exactly know what I like with another man, but I’d like to find out…with you, in case that also wasn’t clear. We can go at whatever speed you want. Although, I think you unlocked a new kink for me tonight. I’ve never been on the bottom and not going to lie, I’m enjoying this very much.”
“I can’t tell if you’re teasing or serious,” Emerson admits, holding his plush tightly.
“I mean it. I like you on top of me, but I’d like you under me or beside me too. I just like you, Emmy. Whatever that looks like for you. Incidentally, we’ve spent a lot of time talking about what I like and I appreciate that you care but this—” he pauses, waving at the small space between their faces, “this is two people. Not just me. So what you like matters too.”
“I have a list,” Emerson blurts.
“A list,” Jason echoes. “This like your list of questions?”
Emerson nods. “I started making a mental list after you kissed me, and I realized I was allowed to think about touching you.”
If Jason were a peacock, his feathers would be spread wide. As it is, he pushes his chest up, ignoring the way Stella and Freddie paw at him in favor of focusing on the part of the conversation where the man of his dreams just admitted to making a mental list about all the ways he wants to touch Jason.
“What’s at the top of your list?” Jason asks. “I know you put them in order of preference.”
“How do you know that?” Emerson questions.
“Because I know you,” Jason answers, delighted that Emerson is close enough for him to lift his head and kiss the shock off his face. His tongue slips into Emerson’s mouth in a kiss that’s more of a promise than a tease. When he finds his neck aching from the awkward position, he drops his head to the floor and grins up at Emerson’s flushed face.
“I can’t think when you do that.”
“Should I stop?” Jason asks, running his thumb over the side of Emerson’s neck.
“No,” Emerson groans. “Just, can we change first? I’m tired of this suit. I want to be comfy. Then…then I’ll tell you about my list.”
“Can being comfy include cuddling in bed?” Jason questions, eager to get up off the cold, hard floor but not at all ready to lose the feeling of Emerson’s body against his own like this.
“Yes,” Emerson confirms, slowly rising off Jason. He stands, towering above him in his pretty green suit, his boutonniere now crushed and his hair in disarray. He looks rumpled, his plush clutched to his chest and his stare unblinking. Jason wants to crowd him into his bed and never let him go.
“Are you going to get up off the floor or just stare at me?” Emerson asks with a slight cock to his head.
“The view is damn good,” Jason tells him, “but shit I feel thirty. This floor is hard.”
“I’m sorry,” Emerson apologizes.
“I told you it’s fine,” Jason assures him, rolling onto his hands and knees before rising. “Why don’t we get changed and get the dogs settled, then we talk about that list of yours.”
“If you don’t like the ideas, you can tell me.”
“I know,” Jason says, and he does, finding that honesty is easy with Emerson. He never has to second guess himself and it feels good to be so secure in knowing whatever Emerson says he means. “Same goes for you.”
Emerson opens his mouth then closes it, fingers twisting in the worn fabric of his plush shark. “What if…what I like isn’t what you like?”
“Then we figure it out, together,” Jason tells him, reaching for Emerson’s other hand, hanging loosely at his side. “You and I are a team, remember?”
“Team,” Emerson affirms.
Giving Emerson’s fingers a squeeze, he takes the first step towards the bedroom, pleased when Emerson automatically falls into step beside him. The pitter patter of paws on the floor lets him know Stella and Freddie are following too, and Jason can’t help but feel damn good that they all trust him.
He still might not be sure what label to use for his sexuality, might not even know exactly what to call the thing growing between him and Emerson, but the fact that it exists at all is enough for him right now. Whatever is happening between them feels right in a way none of his past relationships ever have, and Jason wants it—wants Emerson.