And Call Me in the Morning (23 page)

Eli's teeth gritted together. He made himself relax. “Not a thing, and I'm not too interested in chasing after Kazaran for updates. I've got other priorities.”

Zane stirred, almost restlessly. “It's a good position.”

“That'd take me away from Chicago. And you.” Eli put his hand on Zane's head to keep him there. “Neither is an option.” Christ. He could feel the bubbling mix of thought and emotion churning through Zane. “What's going on with you?”

“It's the opportunity of a lifetime,” Zane said, somewhat muffled by Eli's hold on him. “Don't put me in front of it.”

“The hell I will.” Saying it once hadn't made further repetition any easier; still, Eli needed to repeat himself and would as often as possible. “I don't give a damn anymore about the job of a lifetime. You, me, that's—harder to come by. I love you. That's bigger than any job.”

The fight surged out of Zane. “Goddamnit, Eli.” He let all his weight rest on Eli. “You're a chump.”

“You didn't already know that? Maybe I am. But I know what I want now.” Eli made up his mind. “And I'll be here while you figure out what you want. I promise.”

The knock on Zane's apartment door startled them apart. “What the hell?” Eli stood, automatically going to get it for him.

“Eli, I can answer my own door,” Zane protested, already working his way to his feet.

Eli pointed sharply at him. “
Stay
.”

“I'm your dog now?” Zane settled, though not happily. More in the disgruntled vein. “Arf. Arf.”

“No. You're my patient.”

Zane's eyebrows shot up. “Really? Okay, then. That's so much better. I thought you were my friend. My lover.”

Eli stopped in front of the door, his still-raw nerves fraying fast. “Are you trying to pick a fight?”

Zane grumbled under his breath and looked away.

Fine. Let him suit himself. Eli bent to take a gander through the peephole. He drew back with a hiss. “The fuck they say. Turn off the lights. We're not home.”

That got Zane's attention. He sat upright again. “Now you've piqued my curiosity. Who's there? No, wait, let me guess.” He tapped the cleft in his chin.

“Sherlock Holmes, you're not. Would you hush already? They'll hear us.”

“The walls are so thin in this place they hear my neighbors wondering why we're being pussies about answering the door,” Zane retorted. He assessed Eli's expression. “You look like you're ready to murder in cold blood. It's Richie, isn't it? Richie and-slash-or Taye.”

Eli glowered. “They're not welcome here.”

“It's my damn apartment, Eli.” Zane sighed, some of the defensiveness draining away. “They came because I told them they could. Should.”

“You
what
?”

“I'm the one who got it in the neck, no pun intended.”

“Good. It wasn't funny.” Eli still saw Zane, pale and still, every damn time he closed his eyes. He crossed the room, back to Zane, and caught him by the chin to lift his face and kiss him once, hard, trying to get his point across. “It isn't just you who's been through hell this past week. Do you see that?”

“I know,” Zane said. “And that's why they're here. If I can forgive them, you damn well can too, and Taye thinks the sun shines out of your ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don't let a mistake fuck up a good friendship. Neither of us have so many that we can let them go on a whim.”

“I'd hardly call what happened a whim—”

“Eli.” Eli could tell Zane had reached the end of his patience. “Let them in.”

Eli threw his hands in the air, literally as well as metaphorically. “Fine. Fair warning: if they cross a single line, I'm putting my foot up their asses.”

“Now who's the dog?” Zane made faux snarling noises.

Damn him for making Eli smile, anyway. Eli firmed his mouth into the best attempt he could work up at a neutral expression and, only because Zane asked, opened the door.

Richie wasn't a big man in the most generous of assessments. He looked smaller now, almost as pale as Zane had been, and as miserable as a puppy left outside to shiver on a doorstep in the rain.
Ah, jeez
. Taye stood behind Richie, but with one arm around him, guarding him. Bigger and stronger but no less unhappy.

“Eli,” Zane said behind him. “Please.”

Only
because Zane asked. Eli stood aside and waved them through. He shut the door behind them but didn't lock it, and stood with his back to it with the knob in easy reach. So call him overprotective. He could live with that assessment.

“Thank you,” Taye said quietly. He stood between Eli and Richie, a positioning Eli thought no less intentional than his own guarding of the door. “We won't be here long.”

Eli could just see past the pair to Zane on the couch. He'd propped his head in his hand and studied Richie and Taye as he'd done with Eli countless times. He didn't say a word. Waiting.

Richie, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, was the one to give first. Hell, Eli had the feeling he'd barely been keeping it in, Taye the only thing that kept him steady. “I'm sorry. I need to say that first. You don't know how sorry.”

“I think I might have an idea,” Eli rumbled.

A sharp look from Zane quelled him. “Okay,” Zane said. “Apology accepted.” He brought up a hand to stop Eli from speaking. “My wrong. My decision. No arguments.”

Eli kept quiet and seethed.

Richie didn't seem to buy it any more than Eli. Taye just looked blank, though he tightened his hold on Richie. Richie leaned into it a fraction. “You can't just—I almost killed you.”

“So tell me why.”

Now who had been taking lessons from Holly? Eli rolled his eyes. Yet for all that, he'd admit to a certain curiosity that hadn't entered his head before. What
had
happened?

Richie looked uneasily between Zane and Eli, fighting some internal battle. Eli almost softened toward him. Hell, how could you keep the hate up against someone who looked that torn apart? Richie gave way. “The grill. They get loud. Sizzling fat, exhaust fans. And I had my mind on making something decent from what supplies I had on hand.” He laughed, bitter. “You're both terrific guys, and I hear so much from Taye. I wanted to do the best I could.”

Zane nodded. “I'm listening. No one's yelling. Go on.”

Taye glanced back at Eli, so obviously assessing him that Eli automatically bristled. He made himself flatten his prickles. Zane had been right with one implication. This wasn't Taye's fault. Still, you could hardly separate the two once you'd seen them together.

He wondered if people thought the same of himself and Zane.

Richie squeezed his eyes briefly shut. “God. Okay. I heard Dr. Jameson say 'strawberries.' I was distracted, and the noise, and—I thought he was asking for them, not warning me. I should have made sure.”

“Huh.” Zane mulled that over. Then, as if it were that easy, he nodded. “All right.”

Taye moved to Richie's side. Not as a stronger defense, but in a position of solidarity. It came abruptly to Eli that if Taye had had to choose between Richie at home and Eli at work, the decision wouldn't take him a hot second.

And the kid had grown on him. Eli wouldn't say he'd passed pissed yet, but…

Zane glanced past him at Eli. “Eli, this is my choice to make.”

“Not all of it,” Taye corrected. He was the one to face Eli, not Richie, but Eli supposed that was as it should be. “Dr. Jameson?” Eli knew Taye knew what was going on inside his head.

Eli started to reach for the doorknob. Halfway there, he stopped. Fuck. Zane had gotten to him. What kind of guy would he be if he held a grudge against Zane's wishes?

A human one, Eli thought darkly. He let go of the door and lifted his hands, showing Zane that the next move was all on him. What now?

Zane fired the look right back. Ah. So the next move was Eli's. Eli hesitated, torn. Finally, he whoofed out a breath and stepped away from the door. “I still owe you both a smackdown,” he informed the pair as he walked toward the kitchen. “I'm making more tea. Do you want some?”

“That was…the best way I can think to describe it is 'different.'” Eli rinsed the last of the mugs and turned it upside down on a cloth to dry. He wiped his hands on his hips and looked over his shoulder at Zane.

Zane rested obediently on the couch with his head propped on his arm, watching Eli work. “Different is the only way
to
describe that, I think.” He fingered a small scuff on the leather. “I liked it.”

“Beats linen tablecloths and a harpist, huh?”

“And then some,” Zane said, deep feeling evident. “You done in there? Yes? Good. Get back in here and play human blanket.”

“Are you cold?” Eli was already on his way to a hall closet for a throw or a quilt.

Zane's laughter stopped him. “No, idiot. Just missing you.”

“Ah.” Eli propped himself against the wall facing Zane, just to spin the teasing out a little longer. He had a warm glow going on, not unlike the light and cozy feeling a man occasionally got after two or three shots of good whiskey. Unfamiliar, somewhat, and exactly right. “I was here all night.”

“And so were Taye, and Richie, who has to be half hummingbird the way he goes once someone's gotten him started.” Zane changed position somehow—it didn't look any different to the untrained eye, but to Eli's he softened and hardened, sinuous, beckoning with means other than words. “I liked them. They're gone. I'm still missing you.”

“So it's that way, is it?” Eli let himself be pulled into Zane's orbit. Zane tugged him down before he was ready and finished with Eli sitting on the floor between Zane's knees, wincing between chuckles. “Give a guy some warning, would you? I'm too old to go horsing around.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Zane murmured. He kissed the top of Eli's head and tweaked his ear. “Wouldn't even be tempted.”

“Sounds like you're tempted to other things.”

“Of course. I'm with you.”

Eli's face heated.

“Take the compliment,” Zane chided, giving Eli's ear another not-so-gentle twist. “Better hurry up and swallow that down, because I'm not done yet.”

“Ah, Zane, c'mon—”

“Shush.” Zane covered Eli's mouth with his hand. Eli could feel the warmth of Zane's breath on the top of his head. “I don't…ah, Eli. I'm not used to this, okay?”

“Used to what?”

Zane pressed his lips to Eli's temple. “Getting what I want. Need. Dreams coming true.”

Eli closed his eyes. “I'm no one's dream, Zane.”

“Wrong. Sometimes…” Zane slowed his movements, coming to a near cessation. “Sometimes I wonder how long it can last. You know? I wonder if maybe it's one last shout before I go completely gray and wander off into the silver years alone.”

“Why the hell would you think that?”

“I don't know if I'm enough for you.” Eli didn't have to see his face to know Zane stared off into space, lost in his head. “Or if I can keep being enough when there's still a whole world out there for you.”

Eli shook Zane free and fought upright to take Zane's chin in his hands and give him a shake. “Don't you ever let me hear you say shit like that again. Understand? The only way anyone's prying me out of this is over my dead body and with a crowbar. Christ, that you can ever go there after what we've just—”

Zane covered Eli's mouth with his and silenced him with a kiss. “Okay,” he said, breath to breath. “Okay. I'm sorry.” He pressed his forehead to Eli's and chuckled. “You know, I'm proud of you.”

Eli wrinkled his nose, the best he could do in regards to expressing a good, old-fashioned scoff and asking
why
.

Zane couldn't read minds, but he did know Eli and had his explanation ready. “For giving in,” he said, letting go. “For not playing the ass and holding that grudge against Taye and Richie. For letting me make my choice.”

Eli fidgeted. “They're good kids. They…
oh
.” He rubbed the back of his neck, motions slowing and then stopping when Zane took over for him and did a proper job of the massage. He moaned then and let his head drop to give Zane room. “Christ, that feels great.”

“I am a man of many talents.” Zane kneaded away tension and knots Eli hadn't known he possessed, though he should have. “You were going to say something about those two. What?”

“Oh, boy.” Even with all that had passed between them, Eli still wasn't great at saying these things. Not like Zane. “They're something else, you know? The way they love each other. Blows my mind. Holly and Keith too. I think Diana is shit out of luck, though.”

Zane snorted. “I think you might be right, but what she loves is the chase. She's happiest on the prowl. Some people are like that.”

“And all of us, all the different kinds, we all make the world go 'round.” Eli sang the last off-key, some snippet of a long-ago campfire ditty. “Boom de yada, boom de yada.”

“Someone's punch-drunk.” Zane stopped massaging and tugged the collar of Eli's sweater. “Up you go.”

Eli hated the loss of the massage, but when Zane was right, he was right. He still grumbled to keep up appearances. “Better make this worth my while.”

“I plan to.”

Well. If it was like that—again—still—then moving was worth it. Eli slid into the space by the couch arm that Zane opened for him and lay back with his head propped up and Zane mostly draped over his torso. Their legs tangled companionably together.

Great moment until Zane spoke. “I
am
proud of you,” he said. “Roll your eyes all you want. It doesn't change the fact.” He cupped Eli's cheek and sighed, soft and needy, when Eli turned his head to press a kiss to Zane's palm. “You…ah, Eli. There's not much I wouldn't do for you, you know that?”

“Including kicking my ass when I need it?”

“Especially that.” Zane's habitual study of Eli deepened. Eye to eye, their lashes almost tangling, as did their lower legs, Eli indulged in a flight of fantasy that made him imagine he could see himself reflected in Zane's pupils.

He shivered.

Zane's first kiss was light, almost not a kiss at all. It caught Eli's attention more effectively than an assault. Zane didn't do shy. “Kiss me,” Zane said, and that was even stranger, the way he spoke. Hesitant. “Don't—don't ask. Just kiss me.”

Not being allowed to ask drove Eli crazy. He bit his tongue.

Zane chuckled and kissed him again, still barely there, a brush of lips and air. He'd sobered when he drew back, and there was almost something wistful about the way he moved. “Nothing I wouldn't do for you,” he said. “Do this for me.”

Eli didn't like the note in Zane's voice, though he had no idea what it might be. “Is something wrong?”

“Not right now, no. Everything's as it should be.” Zane pressed his finger to Eli's lips. “I'm fine. I just want this.”

Eli gave up—for the moment—and gave in to the need to touch. He slipped his hands beneath Zane's sweater and skated them up Zane's warm sides. “How much do you want?” he asked, gone husky.

“Whatever you can give,” Zane said, bending for a third kiss. When he spoke, his lips tickled Eli's. “I want it all. I want you to fuck me.”

“You're sure?” Of course he was. Eli knew that. He still had to ask. He needed to hear the answer.

Zane nodded, his chin bumping Eli's. It was enough.

Eli traced lines over Zane's face as he pulled himself together. “Three conditions. One? Don't talk.” He kissed Zane as lightly as Zane had kissed him to make his point. “Save your voice.”

Zane didn't seem inclined to argue. More fond and indulgent, and the wistful look had gone from his eyes. He raised one eyebrow and gestured for Eli to continue.

“Two, you let me do all the work. I mean it. You want this, then you let me take care of you.”

That had an unexpected effect. Zane's breath skipped in through slightly parted lips, and his pupils dilated. He nodded, once, a clumsy jerk of his chin.
And
? he mouthed.

“Smart-ass. Always finding a way around the rules,” Eli chided. He kissed Zane to take away the sting and because he wanted to and because he could. “Three.” Mirth, successfully cloaked, finally made its way out. “Three: promise you'll respect me in the morning.”

It was hard to make roaring laughter silent, but Zane managed it. Of course he could. He slapped Eli on the hip.

Eli took him by the wrist. “Are you going to do as I say?”

Zane swallowed. He nodded, tense with an anticipation Eli could feel.

“Good.” Eli pushed Zane up, helping him find his footing. “Fourth condition. We do this in a proper bed. I'm not falling off the couch halfway through.”

Zane's smile emerged, broadened, and he inclined his head again. He took Eli's hand and let him lead the way.

* * * * *

Once in Zane's bedroom, Eli left the door slightly ajar. Why, he couldn't say. Maybe he was just done with closed doors and cloaks of secrecy. It felt right, and that was what mattered. He turned on one light, just the one, a small lamp that cast no more real illumination than a fat pillar candle.

Zane stood by the bed, waiting for him. As Eli watched, Zane's fists tightened briefly. He inhaled and let the air out slowly. Eli understood. Want it or not, this was still scary as hell.

Wanting it made a considerable difference. “I've got the wheel,” Eli said, the deepness of his tone taking even him off guard. “We still figure it out together.” He waited for Zane's nod before he went on. “Let me undress you.”

Zane bowed his head. Eli could see the smile. As good as a green light.

Zane's clothes came off one piece at a time, Eli guiding the sweater over his head and smirking at the static cloud it made of his hair. Smoothing that down and kissing his lips once the hair was cleared away from his face. Kissing farther down, beneath his hair, along his neck, one hand bracing him, with his thumb stroking the dent between Zane's collarbones.