Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair (16 page)

“You just said I wasn’t healthy enough to do this!” Jeremy protested, feeling dizzy.

“You’re not,” Aiden said, his jaw firming up with determination. “You’re not. But I think Craw was right. You need to be able to walk with your chin up in this world, and this could be the way to do it.”

Jeremy’s mouth dropped open. “You are insane. You’re a magic robot person. You’re a… a… an
imposter
dressed like Aiden who has taken his place.”

Aiden shook his head and finished off his chicken. “Nope. And I’m going to prove to you exactly why that last statement isn’t true just as soon as we’re done with the dishes, but in the meantime, just trust that I’m the same guy who brought you home.”

“But… but….” Oh geez—all of Jeremy’s original reasons for not doing it were flailing along with his hands.

Aiden caught one of them midthrash, and smiled in Jeremy’s eyes. “I’ll tell my mom we’ll be there Sunday afternoon. You can talk to her then and you guys can, I don’t know, make plans or something.”

Jeremy swallowed. “You’ll have to design something to raffle off—something awesome enough to be a grand finale.”

Aiden thought about it. “Does it have to be a baby thing?” He grimaced. “Honestly, I’m a little done with the baby stuff. God, it’s everywhere.”

Jeremy shrugged. “No. But Craw sort of liked the fact that we both worked on it together.”

Aiden straightened and grinned. “I’ve got it—and it doesn’t have to be just you and me, either.”

Jeremy looked at him distrustfully. “Uhm—”

“You know, one of those mitered square blankets—”

“Aiden! Those take
years
to make. Like that one took two years—”

“Yeah, but it didn’t have a yarn shop’s worth of odds and ends all in the same weight, and it didn’t have four people working on it.”

“Four?”

Aiden nodded. “Yeah. We’ll teach Ben, and we can all work on it at the same time. We just all make tiny squares and then get together and stitch them all up.”

Jeremy thought about the pictures he’d seen. “In the pictures, the one done with the sock yarn was just amazing,” he breathed. “All that color—and people will need that at the end of the winter. How long, do you think?”

Aiden took a deep breath. “Give it three months. Ari’s gonna have the baby in a couple of weeks. We want to have the blanket done and on display for at least a month—people are gonna want it bad. And that’ll give you time to organize, get other people to donate, and we can print out fliers. Man, in three months it’s gonna be the beginning of May. People are gonna be
itching
for a reason to get the whole town together. We raffle off as much as we can, we find a venue—”

Jeremy gave a little moan and crossed his arms on the table, resting his chin on top of the scattered broccoli. He still had a bite or two of chicken on his plate, and for a minute he’d actually thought about eating it, but not now. “Boy—you were right. I’m too tired for all of this.”

Aiden poked him so he’d sit up. “Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “
You
were right. You can do this. You get yourself some help, and this thing will sprout wings.”

Jeremy looked down at his sweatshirt covered in broccoli and fought a wave of absolute helplessness. “You have all this faith,” he accused. “You, this house, this thing you’re telling me I should do, visiting your mother—where do you get all this faith that this is going to work out?”

“You survived,” Aiden said, his brows drawn inward. “Do you know the last time I saw fit to ask God for something? Well, I asked him to let you live, and you did. If you lived, you had to be worth it. If you’re worth it, you can do anything.”

“I’m gonna—” Jeremy gestured randomly at his stained clothes, like that explained all of the reasons this was a shitty idea and his original intentions of refusing to do it had gotten turned around.

“Well, first you’re gonna go change your shirt and shower. I have plans for your scrawny ass in bed tonight, and you’re going to need to be forewarned.”

“But… but I wasn’t gonna—”

“Call my mother, ever? I know that,” Aiden said, taking another chicken breast. “I mean, I think you would have before….” Not even Aiden could say it. “Before before, but you won’t now. I get it. That’s okay. I’ll call her. You figure out what you want to make to bring.”

“Dessert,” Jeremy said promptly, standing up and starting to clear the table. Sweets were his Achilles’ heel—and the one thing you could make for a family gathering that would get everybody to love you immediately. Jeremy used to be the one who’d go buy pies for Oscar when Oscar was running a scam. Oscar had once told him that nobody could hate you when you brought pie.

“That’s right,” Aiden said approvingly. “Nobody can hate you when you bring pie.”

Jeremy almost ran into the doorframe with one hand full of plates. “You sounded just like my daddy!” He wasn’t sure if he was wondering if he’d said that before or worried that somehow Aiden was just like Oscar and he’d missed it the past three years.

Aiden was unfazed. “Well, Jeremy, just because the guy was a douche didn’t mean he didn’t have something to offer! You dropped chicken on the ground—don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Jeremy grunted and turned around from the sink. His shoulder and back ached fiercely, and he was grateful for the help; he was also irritated, because it was one more thing Aiden had to do. “Now see? This is where we need a dog.”

Aiden’s sudden crowing startled him, and he dropped the dishes in the sink with a clatter.

“What in the hell is the matter with you?” he snapped, shaking a little from the fright.

“Sorry, Jer,” Aiden said. He stood up and scooped the chicken into the compost bucket and washed his hands. When he was done, he wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s middle. Jeremy leaned back and let himself be comforted, looking at the floor fitfully. He would really like not to be such a flighty disaster all the time. No wonder Aiden had been afraid he’d run.

“What was that noise?” Jeremy demanded, because irritation sat well on both of them.

“Just, you know, if you want a dog, I know where there’s a dog with puppies!”

Oh no. Aiden had told him about this after his mom had last visited the mill, and Jeremy had forgotten. “Damn, Aiden—”

“Yup. You make the pie on Sunday, Jer. You already committed, but now I’ve got you locked down.”

Jeremy thought about pouting for a moment, and then he thought about what Aiden was saying. He looked down at the tile under his feet—basic kitchen vinyl flooring—and realized that the house was great, but the carpets and floors weren’t new, and they had a fenced-in yard and no landlord and….

He caught his breath with the hugeness of it. “Oh my God,” he said in wonder, going almost limp in Aiden’s arms.

“Yeah,” Aiden murmured in his ear. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never in my life….”

“Yeah. You do now.”

And this strange big house he’d been coming to every day suddenly made sense. Even with the too much space and the too many windows and the strange noises, it was suddenly not an adversary.

“I live somewhere I can get a dog,” he said, just absolutely shocked.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” Aiden said, like he was mentally kicking himself.

“’Cause Stanley got me rabbits and you and Craw got me chinchillas,” Jeremy said practically. “One man only needs so many gifts. All I’ve gotten you is a world of hurt.”

Aiden held him tighter, and Jeremy closed his eyes. “You gave me you,” he whispered. “And we’re getting a fucking dog.”

Jeremy laughed like a sixth grader. He couldn’t help it. “We’ll have to get it fixed,” he said, “so it’s probably just a dog.”

Aiden laughed next to his ear. “We’ll have to do the fucking all on our own.”

Jeremy turned in his arms, knowing he was grinning shyly. “Well, let me get rid of the broccoli on my shirt first.”

Aiden kissed him right there in the kitchen, like their first kiss, but a different kitchen. Jeremy grunted and twined his hands around Aiden’s neck to pull him down, suddenly needing him just as fiercely as Aiden had needed him that first night.

He opened his mouth and found himself devouring, hungry, pushing against Aiden’s body until Aiden wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s waist and lifted him, dragging him forward until Aiden was backed up against a wall.

The kiss exploded, and Jeremy groped at his belt buckle with fevered fingers, expecting at any moment to hear Aiden calm him down, to rein him in and slow him up, because that was what Aiden did when they weren’t in bed. He held Jeremy until his wildness fled.

But not now. Now he fed that wildness, lifted his chin so Jeremy could nibble and nip his way down Aiden’s throat. Aiden’s belt stuck under his hands, and Jeremy pulled back and swore.

“Here,” Aiden muttered, working his own belt. Jeremy let him but shoved impatient hands under Aiden’s shirts to feel that smooth skin against his palms. Aiden leaned back, thunking his head against the wall, but when Jeremy paused, he said, “Man, don’t stop.”

“Pants, now!” Oh God. Chest. That chest was so good, the fine hair silky under his fingers, the crisp little nipples tickling his palms. “I want to eat you, boy! Suck you all into my mou—”

Aiden’s pants dropped and Aiden took the opportunity to kiss him some more, to plunder, and oh! He was
naked
from the waist down. Jeremy tugged up with the shirt, and Aiden raised his arms. Together they pulled it off and Jeremy just had to drop his head a little and pop! There went a salty, nubbly little nipple in his mouth. He pulled on it, suckled, teased with his tongue, grazed with his teeth until Aiden knotted his fingers in his hair.

“Clothes off,” Aiden growled. “Your clothes. Off. Now.”

But Jeremy didn’t
want
his clothes off, didn’t
want
the dissection of the wounds and the scars and the thinness. All he wanted—and it was the only thing he’d ever wanted, truly—was his boy.

He grasped Aiden’s hips for balance and kissed down Aiden’s ribs and the tender skin of his stomach. When he got right below the belly button, Aiden sucked in breath, and Jeremy felt his erection, which got harder with every kiss, jump against his chest. Carefully, he got on his knees and sucked that place again until Aiden battered at his head and pushed him closer. He grasped Aiden’s cock—and his boy had a nice one, actually, bigger than Jeremy ever thought they came—and stroked, appreciating it, the softness of the skin, the way it got sticky with every squeeze of his hand.

“Jer!”

He sounded young, his voice high and pleading, and Jeremy looked up and saw he was helpless. Oh God, helpless—
Jeremy’s
boy—needing something from Jeremy so badly, he had no words.

“You make me so proud,” Jeremy whispered, and then he opened his mouth and sucked just Aiden’s cockhead into his mouth.

Aiden’s groan echoed low, from the pit of his stomach, and growly, gravelly, thick with need. Jeremy squeezed around his base and moved his head forward, just like a stroke in someone’s ass, and Aiden cracked his head back against the wall again.

“God! Jer!”

Jeremy couldn’t get enough of that. Of Aiden needing him, of Aiden wanting what he had to offer. Oh, their first months had been fumbling, groping, surprised even, when orgasm happened. Then they’d been separated and Aiden had claimed him with raw need. There wasn’t any room for fumbling or even for much sweetness here. This was how bad Jeremy needed his boy, how much Aiden filled him, how strong his need was to give Aiden everything he had.

Jeremy leaned back to breathe and stroked his hand up too, and Aiden’s breath caught when he went down and up again. Jeremy’s other hand was resting on Aiden’s bare hip, and Aiden reached down and laced their fingers. Jeremy made a noise, pure yearning, and thrust his head forward, relaxing his throat until Aiden was all the way back in it, and then pulling back again.

“Oh God.” Aiden choked, and Jeremy could taste him. Sweet—his boy would only be sweet—and he swallowed down again and stroked and needed. Aiden actually shouted when he came, and Jeremy gulped, but it was too much. He pulled back and pumped again, closing his eyes. His body flooded with warmth when Aiden’s come spattered on his face.

He breathed harshly, in pants, and rocked on his knees, his erection so big and so sore he could barely move. Aiden petted his hair, and Jeremy gave a little moan and buried his head against a moderately hairy thigh.

“Still hard?” Aiden whispered, his hand nothing but tender.

“God yes.”

“Then let me help you up. Let’s go do this in a real bed.”

“Okay,” Jeremy muttered, all out of fight.

Aiden squatted and helped him stand and then turned him toward the bedroom. “Let me get my boots off,” he ordered. “I’ll be right up.”

“Bossy,” Jeremy retorted, but he was on his way. For one thing, he still had broccoli on his shirt, and that wasn’t romantic at all.

“Yeah, well, you had your way with me, now it’s my turn.”

The thought hit a tickle spot in Jeremy’s stomach. “I had my way with you?” he asked, laughing. Below him he heard Aiden unlacing his boots and kicking them off. The sound was followed by the jangle of Aiden’s belt as he picked his clothes up off the floor.

“Yeah, Jer,” Aiden said, laughing with him. “You had your way with me, and now I am naked and vulnerable like a newborn bunny.”

Jeremy’s laugh rang out through the house. “That’s hilarious!” he crowed. “I had
my
way with
you
!”

“You don’t think you did?” Aiden asked.

Jeremy had hit the top landing now and turned into the bedroom. Using all his speed, he slid out of his slippers, tore off his shirt and sweatshirt, and threw them in the hamper. He pulled off his belt and undid his fly but stopped short of shucking his pants, and ran to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth and sponge the smell of dinner off of his neck and chest. He ran a comb through his hair too, suddenly wanting very badly to look good for the wolf at his door.

He stared at his reflection for a moment, seeing some health there that he hadn’t a month ago, and seeing his eyes and not the scars that faded a little bit every day. There was a big noise, because Aiden was a big man, and the sound of the hamper as Aiden dumped all his dirty clothes in it. Jeremy startled and his hands went to his pants, because he’d been caught gazing at himself when he’d been pretending for a month he couldn’t see his own reflection.