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them see that it doesn't matter. That it's just you and Tor and to stay out of it. People in town, well, we can't do anything about them. This ain't the most accepting part of the world, you know that. But most of 'em had no idea who you were anyway, and there were some who were talkin' like they had half a clue in their heads. Not sayin' that everyone is going to be understanding or anything, and I know that there'll be hell to pay, but there's at least some who seem to be keeping a level head."

Jake looked at Bobby and just shook his head, not knowing what to say. Bobby seemed to understand, and he nodded his head and started away.

"Anyway, you tell Tor that I said hey, and we got your back."

"Yeah, I will. If I see him."

Bobby stopped and glanced back. "If you…? Fuck. Where is he?"

Jake leaned the shovel against the wall and crossed his arms, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling. "No idea. He left last night."

"Well goddamn. You okay?"

"Nope."

"Need anything?"

"Yeah. But unless you know where he is, I won't ask for any more favors." Jake looked at him and held out his hand. "You're a good man, Bobby. Thanks."

Bobby shook his hand and nodded again. "Anytime, Jake. Hope he's home real soon."

Bareback

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After Bobby left, Jake went back the bunkhouse and took another shower. He was dizzy in the heat and suddenly realized he hadn't eaten any more than his breakfast in two days.

He went to the kitchen and ate supper with the others, thankful for the subdued conversation. He answered the questions about the night before, reassured them that no one was pressing charges, and that it was all over. He had a brief argument with Hound, who wanted Jake to press charges himself, but when Jake pointed out that he didn't want to be a public spectacle, Hound reluctantly backed off. After supper he went to his room and collapsed, fully dressed, sleep falling over him like a blanket.

He woke up to hear someone knocking insistently at the kitchen door. He groaned and rolled over, but the knocking didn't stop, so he got up and made his way through the dark house to the door, glancing at the clock on his way past the living room. Three in the morning.

He flipped on the light and opened the door to see Bobby.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"Got something for you in the truck." Bobby looked pleased with himself, so Jake leaned out and peered into the darkness, trying to see into the lighted cab.

"Jesus. Where did you find him?" Jake was already moving to the truck, had to see if Tor was all right.

"At a honky tonk out in the middle of fucking nowhere. I got there about nine thirty. He'd just been cut off and he wasn't too happy about it."

Jake stopped walking. "He pass out? If you brought him back here and he didn't want to come, he's just gonna leave again."

Bobby shook his head. "Nah. I talked to him for a long time. Well, he babbled, I listened and poured water into him, then coffee. He went on and on about family and kin, and how he couldn't take the pressure of everyone knowing your business, and how it hurt to think about you in a cell. When he finally started looking like he was gonna puke I took him out and let him. He's not drunk anymore, but he's well into hung over."

Jake started toward the truck again, and Bobby called out, "He's cranky. Be careful."

Jake opened the door of the truck and looked at Tor. He looked like shit, but he was at least awake and looking back.

"You pissed at me?" Tor asked finally.

"Yep."

"Real pissed?"

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"Yep."

Tor looked away for a moment then back. "Fixable?"

Jake looked at the sky and sighed, then leaned on the open door. "Depends," he said quietly. "You gonna leave again?"

Tor looked out the windshield and Jake waited, every muscle tight. The question was simple, but it laid it all out and Jake had to know. Could they even attempt to untangle the damage that the last few days had done? Was there any point in trying, or was it just easier to back away now, stay out of each other’s heads and just deal with their own shit?

Tor turned and got out of the truck, Jake backing up to give him space.

They stood facing each other and Tor reached a hand out to Jake's face, feeling the air around him but not touching before drawing his hand back and curling the fingers into a fist. "Can't promise you forever," he said, his voice husky. "But no, I'm not leaving."

Jake felt himself relax and Tor must have seen some of the tension drain away from him because he stepped forward and put a big hand at the back of Jake's neck and pulled him close, kissing him deeply.

Jake could taste the coffee and booze, but under it was sorrow and anger and pain and desperation. He kissed him back, not bothering with being gentle, inviting Tor to taste his own pain and worry and fear.

When they broke apart Tor whispered, "Can we go inside now? I really need to – I need to be next to you."

Jake simply said, "Yeah."

They went into the bunkhouse, past a grinning and tired looking Bobby Hearn.

"Take the morning off, Bobby," Jake said, as the door closed.

He turned off the light and heard Bobby call out, "Damn right I will!" before he and Tor walked down the hall and into their room.

They went into their room and looked at each other for a moment. Jake wasn't sure what the next step was, he just knew that he wanted to be with Tor right now, and not let him out of his sight.

"I, um, I gotta take a shower," Tor said.

Jake nodded and they stood there for a moment longer.

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"This is stupid," Tor said, rolling his eyes. "C'mon. Get wet with me, will ya?"

Jake grinned and started to unbutton his shirt.

They went into the bathroom leaving a trail of clothes behind them and got the shower going. The room filled with steam within moments, Tor setting the temperature as hot as they could stand it, and they got in.

They washed each other carefully, not speaking, just letting their hands talk. Jake wanted to push his body against Tor's, hold him and lean on him, let himself get lost in the heat of the room, and the sound of Tor's heartbeat.

But he didn't know how. He didn't know what the rules were anymore. So he ran his hands over Tor's back and around to his chest, soap slicked hands gliding over muscles he knew so well now. And Tor let him.

Tor turned in his arms and pressed a kiss on his mouth, a tentative touch that turned into something desperate. Jake couldn't stop, couldn't get control of what he wanted to do, and he was pretty sure that it wasn't what they needed, but oh God, it felt so right to be holding this man, feeling Tor's skin on his own.

They kissed and touched and soon they were just clutching at each other, hands roaming and rough, leaving no quarter for tenderness. Jake needed to let Tor know, somehow, how it felt to find him gone. He needed Tor to know that it couldn't happen again. When he pushed Tor into the wall and bit Tor's chest he was claiming. He didn't know if Tor got that, and he didn't really care at that point.

Tor was just as demanding, hands on Jake's hips and ass, tugging him in close and kissing him roughly, biting at his neck. Tor's own hips were grinding into Jake's with a rhythm that said 'now' and 'harder'.

Jake pushed Tor harder into the wall, dropped a hand to their erections and wrapped it around both of them, holding them tight together. As he stroked with a strong fist he tangled his other hand in Tor's wet hair, pulling him in for a deep, rough kiss that said as much as he could manage.

He let everything out in that kiss. The fear from the night before, the dread of Tor leaving, the anger at the bastards who hurt them both. And he let out the pain caused by Tor shutting him out and the need to know about the man in Tor's past. He let out the tightly held emotions that he held for the man in his arms, and when he was done he was coming, hips jerking with his release.

Tor followed him moments later and they stood in the steaming water, trying to come back to themselves. Jake lifted his head from Tor's chest and saw Tor's tears mingling with the water from the showerhead. He laid his head back down and held onto Tor as he cried, wishing that they were in bed and not standing up in the goddamn shower.

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Tor's chest began to heave as he gulped in air. Jake held Tor tighter and lifted his head again, bringing Tor's head down to his own shoulder so he could comfort Tor. When the shudders eased off and Jake was pretty sure that the tears were gone he said, "Tor. Gonna turn off the water and take you to bed, okay?"

Tor didn't reply and Jake reached one hand out as best he could to turn off the water.

They got out of the shower and Tor reached for a towel, drying his hair and face. They moved to the bed, still wet and dripping, and lay down, Jake wrapping himself around Tor, not letting the man have a chance to retreat into himself again.

They were silent for awhile and then Tor whispered, "Were you okay last night?"

"No. I had nightmares. 'Bout prison. About you. I didn't sleep much. I was worried about you. I wondered if you were sleeping, if you were sick again. If you were okay."

"I wasn't. Had nightmares too. Dreamed about you getting hurt, about you in jail and being locked away where I couldn't find you. I looked and looked and I couldn't find you, it was like a maze. But I found Kin and that was worse."

"Kin?"

"Yeah," Tor breathed. "Kincaid. The guy in the pictures."

Kincaid. Bobby said Tor was talking about family and kin, but maybe it was just Kin.

"Tell me?" Jake didn't want to have to ask. But he had to know, no matter how much he hated the asking.

Tor nodded and made a weak noise that Jake couldn't decipher. It sounded desperate and needy and sad. Tor didn't say anything for a long time, and when he did, Jake could feel him shaking and knew that the tears were back. Jake held him tighter and listened to Tor's voice, tight and harsh with uncontrolled emotion.

"He's dead. He's fucking dead and it still hurts, and oh Christ, how I could have forgotten how much I needed him? Dead and gone and always a kid and fuck he should be alive and happy and I let myself forget."

Tor talked. He told Jake about how Kin was smart and funny, and how they had been best friends from the time they met at fourteen, and how it turned into more when Tor was sixteen. How they had been happy and solid and forever, and how everything was bright and clean, the way it can only be when you are young and naive. And he told Jake how Kin died, run off the road by a too tired trucker. Kin had been on his little Honda bike, nothing fancy, just something he'd fixed up for himself, and the trucker came around a turn at him, straying over the line and going too fast, and Kin never stood a chance. Kin had been twenty-one.

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Jake listened and held onto Tor in the dark, felt Tor's heartbeat against him. Tor had finally stopped shaking, was feeling more solid in his arms, and when Tor fell silent, nestled in Jake's arms, Jake held him tighter.

There was so much Jake could have said, about how Kin would have wanted him to go on and be happy, how Kin wouldn't like him to be like this, so long after he had gone.

But he didn't, because Tor knew it, and what was the point in saying shit like that? Tor didn't need to hear that; but Jake wasn't sure what it was that he did need.

All that Jake knew for sure was that Tor had lost Kin and taken off, wandering around until he wound up in Mexico, almost dying there. And then he had gotten on with his life.

What he hadn't done was grieve.

"Tor, you didn't forget. You can't forget. It hurts, and that's okay. You still gotta get through the pain. Time doesn't make the process easier until you deal with the pain. You didn't forget him. You just started up your life again without really dealing with losing him."

Tor didn't say anything for a long time and Jake thought that he'd fallen asleep. "How do I do that? How do I let him go and not forget?"

"You got any of your old friends? Ones who knew him, I mean. Someone you can talk to about him, someone who can listen to the raw stuff while you work your way to talking about the good times?"

Tor shook his head slowly. "No, they – they all moved on, left the State, or just grew away."

"How about Becky? Can she help?" Jake offered up his last suggestion tentatively, not sure how it would be received, given that it was Becky who had started the avalanche.

But Tor nodded. "Yeah, she'd listen. She'd sort of have to, wouldn't she?" Then he chuckled and the sound sent Jake flying.

"Yeah, I guess she'll have to," Jake said, trying to keep his voice light, but even to him it sounded tight and hoarse. He couldn't help it, the sound of Tor's voice relaxing, the stress easing out of the long body next to him was making him feel light headed and hopeful despite himself.

Tor turned then, looking at him for the first time since they were in the shower. Jake could see how dark Tor's eyes were, felt desire start to build in the pit of his stomach.

When Tor rolled on top of him and bent down to kiss him Jake moaned softly and then they were rocking together, the movement gentle and sweet and so perfect it made him shudder.

Tor's kiss deepened and they grew hard alongside one another, heat growing and spreading until Jake thought he would come just from the feel of Tor's mouth on his.

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"Want you," he murmured into Tor's mouth, spreading his legs so Tor settled lower on him.

Tor groaned and shifted, mouth swiping at Jake's collarbone as he reached into the nightstand for lube. Jake sucked at the skin just below Tor's ear, biting down as strong fingers slid inside him, working the lube in. Then Tor was filling him, long slow thrusts that burned and sparked and made him need more.

They moved together slowly, hands moving wherever they wanted, stroking arms and backs, moving to cradle faces and then clutch at hips, which were picking up force. They never stopped kissing, whether it was mouths together or Tor exploring Jake's chest, or Jake feasting on the soft skin at the base of Tor's neck.