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CHAPTER 25

GETTING THE FUCK OUT OF HERE

TOMMY

Tommy sat in his car, fidgeting with his tie. He’d re-tied it twice already, but no matter what he did, the silk felt too tight around his neck. He hadn’t wanted to go to work, but regardless of everything that had happened over the holiday weekend, Tommy had a job to do and a team who needed him to show up.

Deb was already there, sitting with perfect posture at her desk, fingers pounding loudly on the keyboard.

“Morning, Deb,” Tommy said as he powered up his computer.

He heard the creak of her swivel chair. “How are you?”

Tommy shrugged. “Figuring it out. Is Rick here yet?” Tommy glanced down the hallway, but didn’t see the telltale sliver of light cast underneath their boss’s door.

“Not yet.”

Like he’d somehow been summoned, their boss blew into the office with a loud “Good morning!” that made Tommy’s head throb.

“Well, Littleton,” the man said, and Tommy caught a hint of a sneer in his over-bright smile. “I have to say I’m disappointed you didn’t make it through the weekend. I was looking forward to seeing you kick some ass out there.”

Tommy looked at him, steeling himself with a slow breath. “Something important came up,” he said, careful to keep his tone even.

Rick let out a wide-mouthed laugh. “You know, Littleton, there’s always something. What I’m looking for on my team are the people who can make their work a priority, who are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to make this business successful.”

“Okay then,” Tommy replied, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? What point was there arguing with a man like Rick when Tommy would make the same decision over and over again if it meant ensuring the wellbeing of the man he loved? Tommy was the kind of man who would always pick his family over a job.

Since his divorce, since the family he was building with Courtney was ripped apart, Tommy had become the kind of employee Rick prized. The one who put in extra time, who thought nothing of personal sacrifice for some fabricated greater good. But what kind of greater good was a profit margin? What was the point of putting yourself on the line for extra income when you already had more than enough?

And he did. Tommy had so much more than enough. He had a home, and friends and a family who, although far away, loved him and supported him however they could. He had his health. And now there was a warm, bright house where the man who had always felt like he was, in some way, made just for Tommy, waited for him. Tommy got to love him, care for him and be with him and fuck if that wasn’t so much more than he’d ever dreamed of.

Rick was still speaking, but Tommy ignored him, focusing on the screen in front of him. He pulled up his email and started to work through the list of things that needed to be done.

Eventually Rick wandered off, and the office returned to the quiet tapping of keyboards.

“You’re going to quit, aren’t you?”

Tommy smiled, exhaling a quiet laugh. “Yeah, Deb. As soon as I can find another job, I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

* * *

He didn’t find a new job right away. But Tommy was patient, and it had gotten easier to show up every day now that he knew his time was finite.

His life had fallen into a new rhythm since the Fourth. Every morning, he showed up at Chuck’s place at 6:00 am, ready to drag him to the pool. Most mornings he came willingly, but sometimes he put up a fight. No matter what he said, after the first few laps, Tommy could see some of the tension fade from his shoulders.

Tommy went along, committed to being at Chuck’s side. He’d slip into the lane next to him, copying whatever workout Chuck had chosen. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but figured it wasn’t the time to bombard Chuck with questions. The workouts were quiet, with little to no conversation between them, but Tommy found that he looked forward to their mornings together in the water.

There were still shadows under Chuck’s eyes that never fully lifted, and even in the afternoon after work, Tommy would frequently find him curled up in his bed. There was a vibrancy Tommy had always associated with Chuck that was missing.

But this softer, quieter man was still Chuck, and Tommy was coming to love this version of him too. This Chuck was more direct, looking Tommy right in the eye and telling him when he wanted to be left alone. He craved creature comforts, like soft t-shirts and fuzzy sweats and fleece blankets. He even went so far as to crank up the AC so he could comfortably wear his wool socks in spite of the summer heat.

Chuck shared bits of his progress with him. The plan from Chuck’s psychiatrist was to titrate off of the new medication, and reintroduce the old medication at a lower dose.

Chuck had explained it all over dinner one night: the initial diagnosis, the decision to go on meds, the medical explanation for the different kinds of medications used to help manage depression and anxiety and what Chuck’s experiences with them had been.

Tommy had listened as he shared the shame he’d felt when his body struggled to get hard or orgasm, and how that had been what led him to switch medications in the first place. And Chuck shared his fear that, if he didn’t ‘fix’ his depression, no one would want him as a partner.

When Tommy jumped in to correct him, Chuck had told him he was working on changing his outlook in therapy. He was learning to accept his depression as a part of who he was—not something that defined him, but also not something that needed to be fixed in order for him to be whole.

Tommy’s admiration for Chuck only grew after everything he shared. To be living with depression while balancing a demanding career? Chuck had gone through life feeling like he had to put on a brave face every day just so he wouldn’t inconvenience or frighten those around him.

Chuck was strong. So fucking strong.

And when Tommy worried that maybe he was doing too much or not enough, he asked Chuck how he could best show up during all of this. Chuck always had the same response: “Just make sure I keep swimming and don’t stop showing up.”

So that’s what Tommy did. He couldn’t do the healing for him. He couldn’t lift the weight of the world from Chuck’s shoulders, but he could stand by his side while he got back on his feet.

After work, Tommy would go to Chuck’s house with his laptop and look for a new job while Chuck dozed or watched something on TV. Some nights, Tommy would make them dinner, and others Chuck would cook while he was at work. Sometimes, Chuck would look over at him with apologetic eyes and say, “I’m so sorry,” and when that happened, Tommy would hold him tight and tell him how much he cared for him. He’d remind Chuck how wonderful and cherished he was.

Sometimes, Chuck would ask Tommy not to come over.

And some nights, Chuck would ask him to read out loud. Tommy would sit on top of the covers with his ankles crossed and read out of whatever history book he happened to be working through at the time. Chuck would curl up in as tight of a ball as his long limbs would allow, and Tommy would lose his place because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.

Eventually, Chuck’s blue eyes would flutter shut and his breathing would even out. But even in sleep, there was a furrow between his auburn brows.

* * *

“How is he?”

Tommy slid onto the barstool next to David, who already had a Corona in his hand. “You see him just as much as I do,” Tommy said, wiping his damp forehead with the back of his hand.

David sighed, his face pulled down in a frown. “I wish there was more we could do for him.”

“Me too.”

A quick glance behind the bar showed Sage working, her short blonde hair pulled back from her face with a colorful bandana. “Hey, bartender,” Tommy called out.

She glanced up with a raised brow. “You know I could spit in your drink, right?” she asked as she wandered over to them. David reached out like he was going to touch her face, and Tommy chuckled when she slapped his hand away. “You need to behave,” she told David with narrowed eyes. Turning back to Tommy, she grinned. “What’ll it be, Tommy?”

Two minutes later, Tommy had an empty glass of iced tea in front of him. Beside him, David was silent, fidgeting with the bar napkin and staring down at the wood. “What, Hughes?”

David tapped his fingers on the bar. “You and Chuck.”

“Yeah.”

“When…”

“Right before the Fourth.”

“How did it happen?”

Tommy felt a smile tug at his lips. “I dunno. Some combination of Spartacus and Speedos, and then talking to Wade Johnson about being bi…something just clicked in me. I realized Chuck was my favorite person, and at some point that turned into attraction, too.”

“Are you…”

“Gay? No. I’m bisexual.”

A curious expression crossed David’s face. “Do you know what being demisexual is?”

Tommy shook his head.

“I did a bunch of research into the LGBTQ+ stuff after Chuck came out, and I guess being demisexual is when you only feel sexual attraction after there’s an established emotional connection.” David shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “I could be off, but I remember that’s how it was with you and Courtney, too. Maybe you could check it out.”

Tommy blinked. Damn , that did sound like him. That was exactly how it had been with Courtney, and he thought of his failed attempts at casual hookups over the years. “Fuck me, Hughes. You might be onto something.”

David shot him a grin, but the expression faded. He stared intently at Tommy. “Do you love him?”

Tommy scoffed. “Of course I fucking love him.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“You know I’m going to take really good care of him, right? If he’ll have me, I’ll love him and stand beside him and be his person.”

David glanced at him, his expression stern and serious as he searched Tommy’s face. He must have found whatever he was looking for, because his features softened and he nodded. “I know. You know, you were always such a little shit on the court.”

Tommy let out a startled laugh. “What?”

“Oh, yeah. You were a goddamn pest with your elbow jabs and quick feet. But you were fierce too, and loyal. You were always there for the team, on and off the bench. Always there for the boys.”

Tommy didn’t know how to respond. After all these years, he hadn’t thought much about the kind of athlete or player he’d been in college. But still, to hear his friend so perfectly capture him—well, it meant more than David would ever know.

“You and Chuck could be really good for each other,” David went on. “Both of you are good at going all in for the people around you. Maybe you can go all in for each other, too.”

Tommy felt himself smile. “Sounds good to me.”

* * *

It was Chuck’s idea to watch Spartacus .

Tommy was already lying on the couch with a pillow tucked under his head when Chuck emerged from his room freshly showered.

Tommy was distracted by a drop of water sliding down Chuck’s neck when the couch shifted under him. Chuck slipped his body into place against his, positioning himself as the little spoon. Tommy was frozen in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

There had been no intimacy between them since the Fourth. There were occasional hugs, some casual touches in passing, and Tommy understood that Chuck needed time. But now Chuck’s body was pressed against his, and no matter how respectful he wanted to be, Tommy was not immune to Chuck’s ass wriggling against his crotch.

“Stop it,” Tommy hissed, grabbing Chuck’s hip, trying to hold him still.

“Why?” Chuck responded, grinding against his lap, and there was no way he didn’t feel Tommy’s hardening dick against him.

Tommy let out a tortured groan. “Because I’m fucking turned on and I don’t want to rush you if you’re not ready.”

Chuck made a quiet sound in the back of his throat. “I might not be horny,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the sharp sounds of swords clashing on the screen. “But I love knowing that you are.”

Oh, fuck me .

“Chuck,” Tommy pleaded, not sure what he was asking for. All he knew was that he was going to have to get the fuck off the couch and away from Chuck’s body.

“What?”

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to have to go take care of this somewhere else.” Tommy canted his hips forward, the hardness of his erection perfectly nudging the soft cleft of Chuck’s ass. “Fuck. Sorry, I shouldn’t?—”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.”

Tommy stopped, his breaths ragged against the back of Chuck’s neck. His hand, which still rested on Chuck’s hip, tightened. “What does that mean?”

Chuck shifted, turning his body so their faces pressed together. Tommy’s breath caught in his chest as Chuck’s blue eyes met his. “My whole body is numb and the last thing on my mind is getting hard.” His words were whispered against Tommy’s lips. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not really fucking interested in watching you get off right here on the couch.”

Tommy’s entire body went still, unsure if he’d heard Chuck correctly. “You want to watch me stroke my cock and come all over my fist while thinking about fucking you?”

Chuck’s sharp inhale made Tommy smile. The breathless, “Fuck yeah” that followed made Tommy’s chest swell.

“Then get your ass up, baby.”

Tommy watched Chuck scramble to the other end of the couch, his body slumping back against the arm while he stretched out his long legs. His athletic shorts slipped up his thighs and his t-shirt was so worn it was almost transparent.

Tommy mirrored his position, leaning back against the opposite end of the couch and splaying his own legs wide. “Can’t believe you’re mine, pretty boy,” he whispered as he stared at Chuck.

Chuck’s chest rose and fell as he stared right back. “Want to see more?” he asked, arching a russet brow.

“Fuck,” Tommy muttered, momentarily surrendering to his arousal, trailing his fingers over the soft cotton of his undershirt, and down to flick open the button of his slacks. “Yeah, baby. Let me see your body.”

Tommy groaned as Chuck peeled off his t-shirt, his eyes dancing over the cinnamon freckles and the pink of Chuck’s nipples.

“So good,” Tommy praised, tugging his zipper down and hissing as it dragged over his boxers. Fuck , he was hard, and there was already a wet spot on the front of his boxers where his cock was leaking precum.

He shifted to take his pants off, pulling his boxers down with them and tossing them both onto the floor. He didn’t bother to take off his socks.

A groan fell from his lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock, tightening his grip for a moment before dragging his fist up to the tip. His eyes were fixed on Chuck, who stared at Tommy’s dick with his mouth open.

“Can I see your cock?”

Chuck’s brow furrowed. “It’s…” he started, his cheeks tinging pink. “I’m not hard.”

Tommy brushed his thumb over the wet tip of his cock, shuddering at the soft touch. “Don’t give a fuck, baby,” he growled as he resumed stroking himself. “It’s hot and pretty and I want to look at it when I come.”

For a moment Chuck looked like he didn’t believe him.

“Please, baby,” Tommy pleaded, the frenzy of arousal burning away any desire to play it cool.

The confused look remained on Chuck’s face as he tugged off his shorts and briefs. It was still there when he splayed his legs back open, giving Tommy a perfect view of his soft cock resting in a thatch of red curls.

Tommy’s hand sped up, working his shaft as he drank in the sight of Chuck’s naked body. His breathing grew shallow and heat twisted at the base of his spine, tightening and tightening until he felt himself approaching his release.

“Baby,” Tommy breathed, sliding his free hand down to cup his heavy balls. “You’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His fingers slipped lower, brushing over his taint before dropping lower still. His finger pressed against his hole, not doing anything but teasing, but it spurred the hand on his cock into overdrive. “Gonna come,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Gonna come and it’s all because of you, pretty boy.”

He came with a silent shout, back arching as his cock pulsed in his hand, spilling cum over his fist. He bucked his hips, chasing his pleasure to the very last drop, even as his mind went blissfully blank.

Good . So fucking good .

He cracked an eye open, finding Chuck at the other end of the couch, still quiet, still watching Tommy, his mouth slack.

Tommy’s lips tugged up into a smile. “So,” he began. “That happened.”

Chuck just nodded at him.

Tommy sat up, grabbing his boxers from the floor and using them to clean the mess off of his hand. “Was that okay?”

Again, Chuck nodded.

“Not too much?” He needed to know he hadn’t pushed too far. That he hadn’t fucked up.

Chuck leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on Tommy’s cheek. “I’m so glad it’s you, T.”