forced himself to look at Jack.
His best friend’s face was almost gray now. “Do you wa… want to f… fuck me?”
“And if I said yes? You’re so fucking scared to have a cock up your ass you can barely get the word out.”
“If… if that’s what you want…”
“Like I have time to break in a virgin.”
“What do I…” Jack swallowed, the sound so loud Tom could hear him where he stood. “What do I have to buy you?”
“ What ?” Tom felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. “Why would you think…”
“That’s how it goes. That’s how it always goes. I’ll… I’ll buy you anything you want. I’ll be anything you want.”
“You can’t be what I want, Jack.” Tom clutched at that. “You’re straight.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Since when? Friday night? No. Go home, Jack.”
“But I…”
“You’re straight.”
“You’re just using that as an excuse.”
“I don’t play with straight boys.”
“You… you were playing with me all this time?”
Tom made his voice bored. “Whatever.” He could do this, and if that was what Jack wanted to think... It occurred to him that when Jack walked out the door, he would be losing his best friend in the world. There was a tightness in his chest, and his heart fucking started to break , which he’d always thought was a load of bullshit.
Jack’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “You… you made me fall in love with you…”
Tom smacked down the leap of joy hearing that gave him. He wouldn’t be owned by anyone, not even this man who’d been his friend for more than half his life, who stood before him, bleeding without shedding a drop of blood.
“I didn’t make you do anything. Grow up, Jack. We’re not in high school. Go home. Or go hit the bars. See if you can find some woman to screw.”
“Tom…”
“I’m leaving.” If he stayed any longer he’d forget he was Tom Hansom, the man who needed no one. He’d be on his knees, begging – for forgiveness, for love, for whatever his friend would deign to give him. “Lock the door on your way ou…”
“You fucking tease!” Jack’s large hand landed on Tom’s shoulder and spun him around.
“Get your hands off me, you asshole!” Tom had always been careful to keep his volatile temper under tight rein around Jack. His best friend had never seen him out of control. Tom lashed out now, throwing a punch and striking Jack in the shoulder.
The blow barely made an impression on the infuriated man before him. Jack’s own fist shot out, catching Tom in the mouth, knocking him off his feet.
“Get up, you cocksucker! I’m gonna…” Jack’s eyes widened as he took in the blood dripping from Tom’s mouth. “Oh, jesus, Tom… What have I done?”
“You… you hit me.” Tom blinked and tried to sit up. Jack was there, sliding an arm around his shoulders, bracing him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, buddy.” Jack’s head dropped to Tom’s shoulder, and Tom felt the material dampen.
“Jack?” His mouth was swelling, and it was becoming difficult to talk. He rested his hand against his friend’s cheek.
“My fault. I know, it’s my fault. I’m too… too needy and desperate, and why would someone as wonderful as you want me? Love me?”
“Jack, I …”
“Oh, jesus, you’re bleeding so much.” Jack fumbled for a handkerchief and held it to Tom’s mouth.
Tom flinched.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry …”
“Call…” Tom swallowed a mouthful of blood and struggled to enunciate. “My ’dress book. James Rochester. ’e’s doctor…” He pointed toward the top drawer of his night stand.
Jack found it, an innocuous little book covered in maroon leather, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed the number. He took a deep breath, and Tom felt something inside him crumble at the pain in his best friend’s voice when he spoke.
“Dr. Rochester? My name is Jack Sweet. I’m a… I’m calling for Tom Hansom. Can you come here to his house, or can I bring
His best friend’s face was almost gray now. “Do you wa… want to f… fuck me?”
“And if I said yes? You’re so fucking scared to have a cock up your ass you can barely get the word out.”
“If… if that’s what you want…”
“Like I have time to break in a virgin.”
“What do I…” Jack swallowed, the sound so loud Tom could hear him where he stood. “What do I have to buy you?”
“ What ?” Tom felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. “Why would you think…”
“That’s how it goes. That’s how it always goes. I’ll… I’ll buy you anything you want. I’ll be anything you want.”
“You can’t be what I want, Jack.” Tom clutched at that. “You’re straight.”
“No, I’m not!”
“Since when? Friday night? No. Go home, Jack.”
“But I…”
“You’re straight.”
“You’re just using that as an excuse.”
“I don’t play with straight boys.”
“You… you were playing with me all this time?”
Tom made his voice bored. “Whatever.” He could do this, and if that was what Jack wanted to think... It occurred to him that when Jack walked out the door, he would be losing his best friend in the world. There was a tightness in his chest, and his heart fucking started to break , which he’d always thought was a load of bullshit.
Jack’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “You… you made me fall in love with you…”
Tom smacked down the leap of joy hearing that gave him. He wouldn’t be owned by anyone, not even this man who’d been his friend for more than half his life, who stood before him, bleeding without shedding a drop of blood.
“I didn’t make you do anything. Grow up, Jack. We’re not in high school. Go home. Or go hit the bars. See if you can find some woman to screw.”
“Tom…”
“I’m leaving.” If he stayed any longer he’d forget he was Tom Hansom, the man who needed no one. He’d be on his knees, begging – for forgiveness, for love, for whatever his friend would deign to give him. “Lock the door on your way ou…”
“You fucking tease!” Jack’s large hand landed on Tom’s shoulder and spun him around.
“Get your hands off me, you asshole!” Tom had always been careful to keep his volatile temper under tight rein around Jack. His best friend had never seen him out of control. Tom lashed out now, throwing a punch and striking Jack in the shoulder.
The blow barely made an impression on the infuriated man before him. Jack’s own fist shot out, catching Tom in the mouth, knocking him off his feet.
“Get up, you cocksucker! I’m gonna…” Jack’s eyes widened as he took in the blood dripping from Tom’s mouth. “Oh, jesus, Tom… What have I done?”
“You… you hit me.” Tom blinked and tried to sit up. Jack was there, sliding an arm around his shoulders, bracing him.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, buddy.” Jack’s head dropped to Tom’s shoulder, and Tom felt the material dampen.
“Jack?” His mouth was swelling, and it was becoming difficult to talk. He rested his hand against his friend’s cheek.
“My fault. I know, it’s my fault. I’m too… too needy and desperate, and why would someone as wonderful as you want me? Love me?”
“Jack, I …”
“Oh, jesus, you’re bleeding so much.” Jack fumbled for a handkerchief and held it to Tom’s mouth.
Tom flinched.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry …”
“Call…” Tom swallowed a mouthful of blood and struggled to enunciate. “My ’dress book. James Rochester. ’e’s doctor…” He pointed toward the top drawer of his night stand.
Jack found it, an innocuous little book covered in maroon leather, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed the number. He took a deep breath, and Tom felt something inside him crumble at the pain in his best friend’s voice when he spoke.
“Dr. Rochester? My name is Jack Sweet. I’m a… I’m calling for Tom Hansom. Can you come here to his house, or can I bring
Similar Books
