Chapter Nine, Part II

The View from Here

Jack turns toward him. “Here?”

“Los Angeles. Third layover in a row.”

The surprise on Jack’s face gives way to something warmer.

“How long?”

“Two nights this time. So not as much time.”

“But you’ll be here.”

“Yes.”

“When did you find out?”

“I already knew when I arrived. I just didn’t know it would matter.”

Jack looks down at their joined hands. “And now it does.”

Adrian nods. “Now it does.”

Jack smiles then, without trying to hide it. The sight of it makes Adrian feel lighter.

“What time is your pickup tomorrow?” Jack asks.

“Around three.”

“So you don’t have to disappear early.”

“No.”

Adrian hesitates only briefly. “We could have breakfast.”

Jack looks at him.

“Before you go back to the shop,” Adrian adds. “Nothing long.”

“I’d like that.”

There’s no joke, no attempt to make the invitation smaller than it is.

Adrian squeezes his hand once.

They stay on the blanket until the sun drops below the horizon and the first lights appear along the distant coast. When they finally pack away the pizza box, the air has cooled enough for Adrian to notice.

Jack folds the blanket and carries everything back to the truck.

The drive to the hotel is quieter than the drive out — not because they’ve run out of things to say, but because the evening has settled into something neither of them wants to disturb.

At a red light, Adrian places his hand over Jack’s near the gearshift. Jack turns his palm upward and catches his fingers. They stay like that until traffic starts moving again.

At the hotel, Jack parks and follows him inside.

Adrian doesn’t ask whether he intends to come up. Jack doesn’t explain.

They ride the elevator together, standing close enough that their shoulders touch.

The doors open on the fourth floor. They’re halfway along the corridor when another door opens. One of Adrian’s colleagues steps out carrying an ice bucket. She looks first at Adrian, then past him at Jack.

Her expression changes immediately.

“Hi,” Adrian says.

“Hi.”

Jack gives her a polite nod. “Evening.”

She replies, but her eyes stay on him as they pass. Adrian can feel her turning to watch them.

They reach his door. He takes out his key card.

Behind them, his colleague says his name quietly. “Adrian.”

He turns.

She takes a few steps closer, glances at Jack, and lowers her voice.

“Who the fuck is that drop-dead gorgeous man?”

Adrian feels heat rise straight into his face.

“An old friend.”

Her eyebrows lift. “An old friend?”

“Yes.”

Jack is standing close enough to hear every word. Adrian concentrates on the lock.

“He just needs to pick something up from my room,” he adds.

His colleague looks at Jack’s empty hands, then back at Adrian.

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You definitely will.”

Adrian gets the door open and steps inside. Jack follows him.

The moment the door closes, Adrian leans back against it, his face still burning, caught between embarrassment and the urge to disappear.

Then Jack walks toward him.

Adrian barely has time to straighten before Jack is directly in front of him.

Jack cups Adrian’s face in both hands, his palms broad and warm against his jaw. His thumbs move slowly across the faint roughness of Adrian’s chin, and for one suspended second, he just looks at him.

There’s enough of a pause for Adrian to pull away.

He doesn’t.

Jack leans in and lets his mouth meet Adrian’s.

The kiss begins slowly, but there’s nothing hesitant about it. Jack presses closer, one hand sliding behind Adrian’s neck as it deepens, and every coherent thought goes straight out of Adrian’s head.

Adrian goes completely still — not because he wants Jack to stop, quite the opposite. The sudden heat of it, the weight of Jack’s body, the confidence behind the kiss leave him briefly unable to do anything except feel it.

Then instinct catches up. Adrian’s hands find Jack’s waist and pull him closer as he returns the kiss, the hesitation lasting no more than a second before something that’s been building since the garage takes over.

Jack holds him there a few more breathless seconds before drawing back, his thumbs brushing Adrian’s jaw once more.

“That’s better,” he says.

He releases him and walks toward the window, a quiet, satisfied laugh escaping him.

Adrian stays against the door, breathing harder than he should, trying to recover the basic ability to form a sentence.

“What the hell was that?”

Jack turns to look at him.

“I couldn’t even think.”

“You looked like you needed something else to think about.”

“It worked.”

Jack’s smile widens. “Old friend?”

Adrian stares at him a moment before a laugh finally breaks through the embarrassment. “That was the first thing that came into my head.”

“I gathered.”

“And then I made it worse.”

“A little.”

Adrian pushes himself away from the door and crosses the room. “She’ll have told at least three people before breakfast.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

“I haven’t decided.”

Jack looks toward the wall behind the bed, where the muted sound of a television can be heard from the next room.

“She may actually be staying next door.”

“That should make breakfast interesting.”

Adrian sits against the headboard and takes off his shoes.

Jack stays by the window a moment, watching him. The laughter has faded from his face, leaving something quieter behind.

“I should probably let you sleep,” he says.

Adrian nods, though the thought of Jack leaving brings an immediate, unexpected heaviness with it.

Neither of them moves.

“Do you want me to go?” Jack asks.

Adrian looks at him. “No.”

The answer comes easily.

Jack holds his gaze a moment, then nods. “All right.”

He takes off his shoes and stretches out on the bed beside Adrian, resting on one elbow at first. They start talking as though no decision has been made at all.

Adrian tells him how long the flight home will be, how little use he expects to be once he finally reaches his own bed.

“Two nights next time,” Adrian says.

Jack looks up at him. “Two nights are still two nights.”

Adrian smiles. “That’s true.”

Gradually, Jack lowers himself onto the mattress until his head is resting against Adrian’s thigh.

Adrian looks down at him. “Comfortable?”

“Very.”

Jack’s eyes are half closed now, his weight warm against Adrian’s thigh. For once, there seems to be nothing guarded about him.

Adrian lets his fingers move slowly along the back of Jack’s neck. Jack exhales and relaxes further.

“What do you do first when you get home?” he asks.

“Take off my uniform.”

Jack smiles without opening his eyes. “After that.”

“I unpack immediately. If I don’t, the suitcase sits there accusing me.”

“Laundry?”

“Always. Then a shower. Something simple to eat, even if I’m not hungry.”

“And then?”

“I try to stay awake until a sensible hour. Usually I fail.”

Jack’s head feels warm and heavy against him.

“What about you?” Adrian asks. “When you come home from the shop?”

“Boots off. Music. Food eventually.”

“And then?”

“Usually nothing very interesting.”

“No one waiting?”

Jack opens his eyes. “Usually not.”

Adrian’s hand goes still for a moment. “Same,” he says.

Jack doesn’t try to make the answer less serious. He just turns slightly, settling more comfortably against Adrian’s thigh.

“I liked waking up beside you,” he says.

Adrian looks down at him. “So did I.”

The memory of the morning flashes through him, followed immediately by the embarrassment that came with it.

Jack sees something change in his expression. “I meant before you got out of bed.”

“Good.”

Jack laughs softly.

Adrian resumes moving his fingers against his neck.

They talk until the spaces between their sentences begin to grow longer. Jack tells him a little more about the garage and the work waiting for him the following day. Adrian talks about the strange emptiness of a hotel room after a crew dinner, when everyone has gone back behind separate doors.

Eventually, Jack closes his eyes again.

“You’re falling asleep,” Adrian says.

“Maybe.”

“We should brush our teeth.”

Jack opens one eye. “That sounds very responsible.”

“We are grown men.”

Jack sits up reluctantly.

Adrian finds two toothbrushes among the hotel amenities and hands one to him. They stand side by side at the small bathroom sink, their shoulders touching whenever either of them moves. There’s something strangely intimate about the ordinary silence of it.

Back in the room, they undress without ceremony. Adrian folds his clothes over the chair and stays in his briefs. Jack leaves his shirt and jeans beside the bed and stands in his boxers.

Adrian is still intensely aware of Jack’s body. The wanting hasn’t gone anywhere.

But nothing about tonight feels like a demand.

Not tonight.

Adrian gets under the sheet and moves toward the side nearest the window. Jack switches off the lamp and joins him.

For a short while they lie on their backs in the dark. Then Adrian turns onto his side. Jack moves in behind him naturally, without either of them needing to discuss it. His chest settles against Adrian’s back, one arm sliding around his waist.

Adrian covers Jack’s hand with his own and draws it higher against his chest.

Jack presses a quiet kiss to the back of his shoulder. “Goodnight, old friend,” he murmurs.

Adrian smiles in the dark. “That joke has already expired.”

Jack’s arm tightens gently around him.

The television in the next room goes silent. Somewhere farther down the corridor, a door closes and footsteps fade toward the elevator.

Tomorrow they’ll have breakfast. Then Jack will return to the garage, and Adrian will leave for the airport.

A week from now, Adrian will be back.

Adrian settles more deeply into Jack’s arms.

For tonight, that’s enough.