Polar Reaction (15 page)

Brendan looked gratefully at him. “Yeah. Sure. That’s a great idea. Just sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

Jamie leaned back against the sofa with a sigh. Tuck wouldn’t have made Brendan cry. He would have handled things so much better.

He looked around the room while he waited. It was a masculine room, with dark leather furniture, two walls lined with bookshelves, another with a large old wooden desk on which sat a flat-screen monitor and piles of papers and research texts. The floors were hardwood, stained a rich reddish brown. A large bay window faced the tree-lined street.

To keep himself occupied, Jamie got up and moved toward one of the bookshelves. Most of the books were nonfiction, large tomes on various esoteric scientific subjects. One shelf was filled with paperback mysteries and science-fiction novels, clearly much read.

There were several books in French. Jamie picked one up, titled
Rendez-vous avec la mort
and saw it was by Agatha Christie, a translation. He flipped through the pages, which might as well have been in Aramaic as far as he was concerned, and recalled Brendan’s story about losing his virginity to his French tutor.

They knew so little about each other, he realized. They’d worked side by side for six weeks, yet it was only in those last few days they’d connected. Could the feelings he felt for Brendan really be love? If not love, the precursor to it? He was in love with Tuck, of that he was certain. Yet he’d been drawn to Brendan, and Brendan’s rejection, which he was sure was based purely on fear, hadn’t lessened his desire.

Yes, the anger was still there for the way Brendan had shut them out, but it had lost its sting. He was making his peace with Brendan. That didn’t mean, he knew, that Brendan was necessarily going to come running back to them. It was possible he just didn’t have it in him. His curiosity, if that’s what they wanted to call it, might only run so deep. As much as Tuck and Jamie wanted Brendan, maybe he just wasn’t capable of any kind of sustained relationship with other men.

Nevertheless, he was glad he had come to Seattle, and even gladder he had stayed. He would have remained angry with Brendan, and had added anger at himself for his abrupt, immature departure if he’d left after his melodramatic speech.

Well, Brendan had given him a second chance. They would start over, and this time Jamie would give Brendan a chance to talk. He would listen and try to understand.

Brendan returned to the living room. His eyes were still red but his hair was combed and he’d added a dark blue work shirt over his light blue T-shirt. He smiled at Jamie. “Found my books, huh? I can’t ever get rid of a book, even if it’s terrible.”

“Can you actually read these? The stuff in French?” Jamie waved the book he was holding toward Brendan.

“Yeah. If I have a dictionary with me. It’s the slang that kills you, though. Christie is easier—not so much slang. Modern books though, forget it. You really need to live in a place to pick up their slang. I’ve been to France, but never for longer than a month at a time.”

Jamie, who had never been out of the States, other than their fateful trip to Antarctica, was impressed. “I’d like to travel someday. I’d like to go to the Himalayas and Amsterdam. And Paris, of course.”

“Of course.” Brendan grinned. “It really is the most romantic city in the world. I’d love to go back.” He smiled dreamily, as if recalling some romantic memory.

Jamie wanted to take him into his arms, to kiss his swollen eyelids, to stroke his cheek and hold him, to say again how sorry he was for making him cry. He took a step toward him, licking his lips in anticipation of their kiss.

Brendan suddenly snapped out of his reverie and turned away, his voice strident. “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Jamie stopped in his tracks. The moment was lost. He put the book back onto the shelf, wondering if their timing would always be off.

Chapter Sixteen

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Jamie took another bite of French toast. He dragged a piece of sausage through the syrup and ate that as well. “This is delicious.”

“Yeah.” Brendan nodded. “I haven’t been here for a while.” He chewed a bite of his blueberry blintz. He could hardly believe it was really Jamie sitting across from him right there in Seattle, instead of consigned forever to bittersweet memory.

Jamie thanked the waitress when she topped off his coffee. He turned back to Brendan. “So you were, like, engaged to a woman? And you’ve always only dated women?” They had been talking in general about sexual orientation—gay versus straight, with Jamie holding forth about his theory that no one was purely one thing or the other.

“Yeah,” Brendan admitted. “Tuck and you were my first, um, real experience.”

“So never before? No teenage experimentation? No crush on an athlete, something like that?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I guess I’ve always had crushes, to use your phrase, on guys. I mean, I didn’t define it like that. I admired them. I found them attractive, you know, but I didn’t think of it as sexual precisely.”

“Precisely? So just sort of?” Jamie grinned and Brendan felt himself blushing. Jamie continued his relentless questioning. “So when you were a kid, there wasn’t that one boy in ninth grade who slipped into your fantasies while you were jerking off under the covers or in the shower? That one guy in college who, after a few beers too many,
accidentally
groped you instead of his girlfriend?” Jamie smirked.

Brendan felt his face heat. Jesus, had he left some kind of window open inside his head for Jamie to peer into and make fun of? Zach Hickman. He hadn’t thought about Zach in years.

It wasn’t ninth grade, but tenth. They were both on the track team. Zach had long dark hair he wore loose. His features were almost feminine—a cupid’s bow of a mouth and large dark eyes. In fact, Brendan used to tell himself he was only attracted to him because of his feminine traits, in those moments he admitted to himself he was attracted at all.

Zach had just turned sixteen, while Brendan was still fifteen. He was spending the night at Zach’s, and they were celebrating Zach’s birthday with a fifth of blackberry brandy Zach had convinced his older brother to buy for them.

It was a warm, sticky summer night. They were lying on the bottom bunk in Zach’s bedroom in just their gym shorts, listening to music, getting drunk and talking about nothing much. The light was out and it was late.

Brendan fell asleep at one point and when he woke, Zach was draped over him, his hand on Brendan’s crotch, his eyes closed. What the hell was going on? Brendan realized he had a full erection and his heart began to pound. He lay still, wondering what to do, both frightened and aroused by Zach’s proximity and touch. He didn’t dare to move for a full minute. Zach seemed to be asleep, but the limp weight of his hand was driving Brendan crazy.

He finally got up the nerve to move his hips a little and Zach’s hand shifted, his fingers brushing Brendan’s cock through the thin cotton of his shorts. At the same time, he could feel Zach’s erection press against him.

They began a silent, unacknowledged sexual dance, with Zach’s fingers responding with gentle but insistent pressure each time Brendan moved his hips, accompanied by the subtle press of his hard shaft against Brendan’s side.

Brendan kept his eyes closed and tried to keep his breathing regular and even, mimicking Zach’s pretense of being asleep. They continued the charade until each boy, within seconds of one another, ejaculated in their underwear.

Zach rolled away from Brendan, who lay still, his heart pounding, for a good ten minutes before daring to move. Zach appeared to be asleep. Brendan crept out of bed and cleaned himself up as best he could in the bathroom.

When he returned, Zach was still in the same position, on his side, his face to the wall. Brendan climbed into the top bunk, half-wondering if he’d dreamt the whole thing.

Things seemed to change between them after that. Zach avoided Brendan, which hurt his feelings and confused him. Brendan wanted to bring up what had happened, to ask Zach what he thought, but he never dared. Zach never said a word. After a while it was as if it had never been, except that the easy friendship they’d shared since childhood was never regained.

“Oh my God,” Jamie crowed. “There was something. I can see it in your face. Come on. Tell me about him. Did anything happen, or was it just teenage longing confined to the pages of your secret diary?”

Embarrassment made Brendan terse. “What is this, your mission in Seattle? To delve into my past to find out why I’m so fucked up now and then make fun of it?”

The smile fell away from Jamie’s face. “No. I’m sorry, Bren. I was being flip. That’s what I do, you know? I make fun of stuff to keep it light.” He reached across the table and touched Brendan’s hand. “I’m sorry. I actually really want to know. I want to understand how someone can go through their life without ever connecting to such a basic part of themselves.

“What we shared, what we experienced during the blizzard—it was more than just three horny, scared guys trying to distract themselves from their situation. It was definitely more for Tuck and for me, but I think it was more for you too. I know it was.

“That’s why I came to see you, Brendan. I need to understand. Even if nothing more comes of this than that, I have to know who you are—who the guy is who fell into our hearts in so short a time and then just…disappeared.”

Brendan said nothing. Jamie continued. “Was what we shared just an aberration in your mind? Deviant behavior engaged in to stave off the fear of death? Something to be shoved under the rug with the rest of your unacceptable experiences and feelings once you made it safely home? Don’t you owe it to us to at least explain yourself?”

Brendan hung his head, tears again pushing behind his eyes. Damn it, he was most certainly not going to cry in a restaurant. He looked up into Jamie’s face. “I don’t know what I owe to whom. I don’t know what I feel. Maybe that’s the real issue for me. I’ve never known how to connect with my feelings. How to accept them without analyzing the crap out of them and judging myself and trying to push everything into neat, acceptable slots like vials in a science lab, each in its proper place.”

Again the tears rose, hot and heavy behind his eyes. Brendan pressed his fingers to his eyelids.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Jamie’s voice was kind. “I don’t want to upset you again. That’s not my intention. I really want to understand. You done eating? Maybe we could go back to your place and talk some more. Would that be okay?”

Brendan dropped his hands and smiled at Jamie. “Why do I feel like the kid here?”

“Probably just my superior intellect. I have that effect on people. Don’t feel bad.” Jamie laughed and Brendan laughed with him. He hadn’t laughed in a long time. It felt good.

~ * ~

“You look beat.” They had returned to Brendan’s place and were seated, facing one another, on the sofa.

Jamie yawned. His eyes felt like they were full of sand. “I am. I only slept a few hours last night. I was too keyed up, I guess. I probably should sleep some before I head back.” The thought of the twelve or thirteen hour motorcycle ride down to Monterey did not appeal.

“When do you have to go? I don’t want you to go.”

Jamie smiled. “I don’t want to go either, but I’m supposed to be at work tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “Even if I left now and rode straight through, I wouldn’t make it home till eleven. And I really can’t sit on that damn cycle for more than four hours without some kind of break, so it’ll be more like one a.m.”

“Well, that’s just crazy. You can’t possibly do that, especially on no sleep. You’re just going to have to call in sick. You don’t want to risk your life for a damn job, do you?”

“No. But I’ve only been there a year, you know. I’m still the new kid on the block.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll forgive you for calling in sick one time. I want you to stay a while longer. Please?”

“How can I resist you?” Jamie leaned toward Brendan, expecting at least a kiss.

Instead Brendan stood, offering something even better. “Let’s lie down so you can rest. We can continue our conversation from the diner. You know, the one where I shed light on why I’m such a repressed fuckup.” He laughed lightly, though Jamie saw the pain in his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll bore you sufficiently that you’ll be asleep in no time.”

Jamie followed Brendan into the bedroom, his cock nudging in his jeans even though Brendan’s offer was platonic. He
was
incredibly tired, his eyelids drooping and his concentration wandering, despite his best efforts to remain alert.

The bed felt wonderful, especially after the lumpy, uncomfortable motel mattress and the hours hunched over his cycle. He stretched and sighed with contentment. “I could get used to this.”

Brendan lay down beside him. They were both fully clothed. Jamie sensed Brendan wanted to talk some more. He’d begun to talk again while driving back from the diner, speculating aloud about why he never quite connected in the serious relationships he’d had during his life. He hadn’t been especially surprised to hear Brendan had been involved with a woman since their return from Antarctica. He guessed he was more surprised that Brendan had ended it. Hearing this gave him his first real spark of hope. But he needed to hear more, to understand more about the nature of their relationship and the breakup. How did Brendan define himself now? Was he still merely curious, or was he finally ready to admit to something more?

To give him an opening, Jamie offered, “You were talking about Lynn. About her accusation that you would never be ready for a committed relationship. Do you think that’s true, or do you think you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.”

“You know, if you’d shown up one week earlier, I might have thought she was right—that I was just a fucked-up, closed-off asshole who was never going to connect with anyone on a meaningful level. I’d blown it with every other woman I’d ever been involved with. It honestly never occurred to me I was looking in the wrong place, as you put it. Not till…”

“Not till…” Jamie prompted.

“Till I met Tuck last year. But even then, even then I denied it to myself. I was scared of my own intense reaction to him. To his physical presence, to his sensuality. Even when I finagled his invitation to the research team, I managed to convince myself we were just friends.”

“But you loved him already, didn’t you?” Jamie whispered the words, not sure himself how they made him feel. Would he always be jealous of the special bond Brendan and Tuck had forged before he ever came on the scene?

“Yeah.” The word was ripe with emotion, conveying longing and loss, coupled with a kind of awe.

Jamie had been lying on his back, Brendan likewise beside him. He rolled toward Brendan now, aware what a monumental admission this was for him. “He loves you too, you know. I wasn’t lying before.”

Brendan turned toward him, his expression at once hopeful and fearful. “He told you that?”

“Yeah. Not in so many words, but yeah. Wanna see something?” Jamie reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. He opened it and extracted the wrinkled, folded piece of paper he’d put there the day before. He handed it to Brendan.

Brendan opened the paper and scanned it. He looked at Jamie with a question on his face.

“Tuck did that. Just like in junior high. Your name, over and over. He doesn’t know I found it. I’d say it’s proof you’re on his mind, wouldn’t you agree?”

Brendan stared at the crumpled page, smoothing it against his leg. He was smiling, that open, sunny smile that turned him from merely handsome to heart-stoppingly gorgeous. “Can I…uh, can I have this?”

Jamie laughed. “Sure. Keep it. I guess I brought it for you.”

Brendan carefully folded the paper until it was a small, neat square. He pushed it into his back pocket and reached for Jamie.

Jamie rolled into his arms and Brendan held him tight. It felt good. As much as he loved Tuck, it felt good to reconnect with Brendan. “Hey,” he murmured against Brendan’s neck. “I missed you. Not just Tuck. Me. I’ve missed you so much.”

Brendan held him tighter. “Me too. Me too, Jamie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Jamie relaxed for the first time since he’d made the rash decision to come to Seattle. There was hope—real hope—flaring up inside him like a warm, engulfing flame. He closed his eyes, fatigue rolling over him, dragging him, despite his best efforts, into a much-needed sleep. Giving in, he closed his eyes and slipped away.

Jamie drifted in and out of a languorous sleep. Tuck’s hands felt wonderful, massaging his back, strong fingers kneading into muscle. Tuck’s hands moved lower, slipping into Jamie’s jeans. He cupped Jamie’s ass cheeks. Jamie sighed with pleasure and snuggled against Tuck’s warm, bare chest. The curling chest hair was soft against his cheek and he rubbed it like it was a baby’s blanket.

Tuck doesn’t have chest hair.

Jamie opened his eyes, suddenly recalling where he was and who he was with. Those were Brendan’s hands pulling him close. Brendan’s cock pressing hard against him. He nuzzled again against Brendan’s chest and reached down, finding the zipper on Brendan’s jeans.

Brendan shifted back, allowing him to open them. He in turn reached for Jamie’s fly. Without speaking, they pushed down denim, pushed up cotton, tugged and shifted until they both lay naked, on their sides facing one another.

The bedroom was drenched in a warm, butterscotch light from the sun shining through closed blinds. “How long was I sleeping?”

“About an hour.” Brendan smiled shyly at Jamie. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” He fingered the pendant at Jamie’s throat. “What’s this? Oh, it’s a snake. Like your tattoo.”

“Yeah. Tuck got it for me for my birthday.”

Brendan fingered the jeweled snake. “It’s beautiful.” Jamie saw the pain in his eyes. He understood the loss Brendan must feel from his self-imposed exile. They had moved on without him and he knew it.

To distract Brendan as much as anything, Jamie wrapped his hand around Brendan’s cock, which had remained hard despite his sorrow. Brendan drew in his breath and ducked his head. After a moment he in turn curled his fingers around Jamie’s shaft.