Put Your Hands Into the Fire

            Oh, Jake was going to love this.

            I was heading over to Jake’s because we’d gotten lucky the other day and caught a hell of a big turkey.  Actually, who says it was luck?  I think it was our massive determination and skill.  I’d warbled and Jake had shot it.

            On the way home with our bounty, I’d slid my arm over Jake’s shoulder and called us “the great hunters of Jericho.”  He’d laughed a little and shoved me playfully, nearly dropping the turkey.  It had been a good day.

            I walked onto the Greens’ lawn and was greeted by the family dog.  “Hey!” I said, grabbing the dog and wrestling with him a bit.  He panted and barked and wagged his tail.  I scratched his ears.  “That’s a good doggie!”

            “There you are.”  I looked up to see who had spoken.  It was Gail Green, Jake’s mom, holding the door open and watching me with a smile on her face.

            “Hello, Mrs. Green,” I said, straightening up.

            “I’ve already told you, Stanley—you can call me Gail,” she replied, opening the door wider.  “Now come in.  The turkey should be done cooking soon.”

            “How’s that coming along, by the way?” I asked, as I stepped onto the porch and through the door.

            “Jake and his father had to set up a spit outside,” she replied, shutting the door behind me.  I stopped and looked at her, grinning.

            “What?” she asked curiously.

            “Jake and Mayor Green cooking a turkey like two cavemen,” I said.  “It’s priceless.  And by priceless, I mean I would pay to see it.”

            Gail smiled.  “Oh, Stanley.”

            “I’m your ray of sunshine, aren’t I?” I asked, leaning against her shoulder.

            “Just get in there,” she laughed, heading to the kitchen counter.  “Jake should be in the living room.”

            “Okay then.  I’ll bug you later,” I said, giving her a quick side hug.  She laughed and patted me on the back.

            When I walked into the living room, Jake was sitting in the old comfy chair.  He was looking through a book as he drank something from a glass.

            “Hey!” I yelled.  Jake jumped, nearly spilling his drink, then looked at me, eyes wide.

            “Ha ha, really funny,” he said when he saw it was me.  He set the cup down and got up, giving me a friendly glare.

            “Easily overexcited, Jake?” I asked, hiding my laughter.

            “I’ll show you overexcited,” he said, this time with half a smile.  I grinned at him and he shook his head, finally not able to stop himself from grinning as well.  He walked past me and put the book he was holding back on the shelf.

            “What were you reading?” I asked with interest.

            “One of dad’s books: the art of politics,” he replied.  “It’s really depressing.”

            “Speaking of books,” I said, pleasantly surprised at how the conversation had immediately leant itself for what I’d wanted to show him.  I yanked the thick paperback out of my coat.  “I just discovered this up in the attic.  Apparently either my mom or dad had a thing for smutty romance novels.”

            Jake looked at me with raised eyebrows.  “Uh huh.  Sure it wasn’t yours?”

            Hmmm.  Would I like reading novels like these?  Depends.

            “You got me,” I said.  “I just can’t get enough of those…” I flipped open the book and looked for something to prove my point, “…‘spine-cracking orgasms.’”

            Jake actually laughed really hard.  I shut the book.  “Yeah, well…” Jake cleared his throat.  “Those are good to have.”

            “Not sure about that,” I said, setting the book down on the coffee table.  “I might not be able to handle it.  Bad back and all.”

            There was a small silence that bordered on awkward.  Jake and I looked at each other for a moment before he turned away and cleared his throat again.

            “I’d better go check up on dad,” he said.

            “I’ll come with,” I said, not sure what had just happened.  Jake glanced at me.  “That is, if you don’t mind.”

            “Of course I don’t mind,” he replied, and just like that the weird tension was gone.  “My dad’s gotta see you at some point.”

            I grinned.  “Oh, the shame of me being your friend.”

            Jake looked at me for a moment then grinned.  “Exactly.”

            It’d been a good number of weeks since I’d eaten fresh poultry like that.  Maybe the world was ending out there, but in the Greens’ backyard, it was like a really good picnic.

            “Oh, I’m so full,” I said, leaning back against my chair and taking a heaving sigh.

            “You only ate half the turkey, Stan,” Mr. Green said, joking in that wry way of his.  “Sure you’re not up for a little more?”

            I closed my eyes and shook my head, smiling.  “Nope.  Stuffed.”

            “Yes, well you can take some home,” Mrs. Green said.  I started to speak but she cut me off.  “And no arguing.  You helped catch it.”

            “Yeah, he made random bird squawks,” Jake said, passing me by with his plate.  He stopped behind my chair where I was slumped, and I felt his hand slide onto my shoulder.  He leaned down so his face hovered by my shoulder and his breath tickled my ear.  “By the sound of them, that turkey must have been pretty desperate.”

            I swatted at him.  He pulled back, laughing.

            “You know what?” I said, forcing myself to sit up.  “I think I will have some more turkey.”

            A couple of hours later it had started to get dark and everybody pitched in to help salt the turkey and wrap it up to keep it preserved.  We’d cleared the picnic table and I made sure Mrs. Green didn’t have to do anything extra.  She’d protested, but I eased her mind by telling her my Spidey-strength had kicked in.

            Jake and I sat in the living room, all the lights off except for a few lighted candles and a roaring fire in the fireplace.  Mr. and Mrs. Green had gone off to rest.  It was always so cozy in the Green house.  I’d always loved that about it.

            I looked at Jake.  The shadows on his face made him look a bit older, more worn.  I’d always wondered exactly what had made him leave town, and why he’d stayed away for so long without a word.  I’d actually been really ticked off when it happened.  He just took off without warning and for all anyone knew he could have been dead these past few years.  But that anger hadn’t been there when I’d seen him for the first time in five years. Instead, I’d grabbed him in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground.  It felt like the right thing to do.  I’d just been really glad my old buddy was back.

            “I missed this,” I said, breaking the soft quiet.

            Jake glanced at me, and the fire made his gaze more intense somehow. “Missed what?” he asked softly.

            “All of this,” I said, gesturing at the surroundings.  “We used to hang out here all the time, Jake.  I always felt at home here.”

            Jake looked to the fire.  “I always felt more at home at your place.”

            “Yeah, we were there a lot too,” I admitted.  “But I never knew why.  You seemed to have a good family, a nice house, even the loving family pet.”  Jake looked back to me.  “I just don’t know why you didn’t want to stay.”

            “I didn’t have much to stay for,” he replied.  Jake’s gaze went back to the fire.

            “Well, what about your friends?  Me and Bonnie nearly went crazy when you just up and left.  Your mom called me up and she was crying.”

            “I really don’t want to talk about this,” Jake said.

            “I dunno, Jake.  Five years with no word, no explanation, and you just expect me to take it?”  I watched him, trying to keep my anger in check.  Something I’d buried half a decade ago was rising to the surface again, and I didn’t want to get into an argument with Jake.  They never went well, especially since Jake was pretty quick to anger.

            “Yeah, Stanley, I expect you to take it,” he said, and glared at me.  The fire threw his face into sharp relief and I caught not just the anger in his eyes, but the tiredness.  “You never asked questions before; I don’t see why you’d start now.”

            There was a deep silence, punctuated only by the sound of busy crickets outside and the sharp crackling of the fire.

            I spoke again, but this time my voice was softer.  “I was really worried that something had happened to you.”

            Jake snorted a derisive laugh.  “I’m a grown up man, Stan.  What did you think was going to happen to me?”

            “I don’t know,” I said.  I stared at him.  “I don’t know.  And that’s why I was so pissed off, Jake.  Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

            Jake and I stared at each other.  I didn’t even blink.

            “I didn’t really plan it,” he said finally.  “It was a spur of the moment decision.”

            “Oh.”  I looked at the blazing fire and tried to make sense of my jumbled feelings.  I was finally getting some answers, but they weren’t really making me feel any better.

            The silence lingered a while longer.  It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but there were a lot of things unsaid.

            “Was it because of Jonah?” I asked, still staring at the fire.

            I saw Jake look at me out of the corner of my eye.

            “Why would I leave because of Jonah?” he asked.

            I shrugged.  “Not sure.  He’s a dangerous guy.  I thought maybe he’d gotten too bad for you, or something.”

            Jake said nothing.

            “I actually thought…” I said, and I stopped a moment to take a deep breath before going on, “…it was because you two split up.”

            There was silence again.  I moved my eyes from the fire to look at Jake.  His gaze was on the floor.

            “How did you know about…?” he started.

            “It seemed pretty obvious to me,” I said.

            “Well, I didn’t leave because of that,” Jake said, glancing up at me with his eyes.  “Jonah…he was really overprotective at times…he got jealous over nothing.  But it wasn’t that.  I just…I felt like I was suffocating.  I could never live up to my dad’s expectations.  We could barely talk without arguing.  Mom kept trying to keep us from going for each other’s throats.  It was just too hard to stay.”

            “You still could have stopped by and told me.  My house is right on the way out of town, Jake.  Do you know what it’s like to worry about whether a friend is dead or alive, or even just okay?”

            Jake looked at me for a long time.  “That time you got caught out in the rain.  We thought you had radiation poisoning.”

            I nodded, remembering.  I had been so afraid that I was going to die.  It was good to know I could look back on that horrible ordeal and laugh.

            “When I visited you in the hospital and you told me you’d been throwing up, it felt like I’d just lost my will to live.  You scared the hell out of me.”

            I grinned just slightly.  “Yeah, well it couldn’t have been half of what I was feeling.”

            Jake looked at me, and it struck me suddenly that maybe it had been.  Maybe even more.  He looked ready to say something.  He even opened his mouth, but after a minute he closed it and dropped his gaze.

            “I’m glad you’re back,” I said.  “Although I must say you could have picked a better time.”

            Jake actually laughed.

            “Then again,” I said, continuing my thought, “maybe this is the best time.  It gives me someone to be with during the stressful nights.”

            Jake’s head snapped up and he looked to me from his chair.  I don’t know if I’d meant for that last part to actually leave my head and come out of my mouth, but oh well, it had traveled there anyway.  May as well not waste the opportunity.

            I got up from my seat and walked over to him.  He looked up at me, something very deep and intense in his dark eyes.  I’d always liked that deep brown color.  It might have been the color of my favorite crayon back in Kindergarten.

            I slowly lowered myself to my knees in front of him, so my face was about level with his chest.  I looked up at him, hands on my knees, and he looked back.

            I could hear his soft breathing, a little more ragged now, blending with the smoldering of the fire.  I noticed his hands were gripping the chair arms.  I would have grinned at the sight, but I was too busy gathering up the nerve to do something more.

            Finally, after a long moment of quiet, I put my hands on his knees.  I glanced to his face, curious about his reaction.  I watched him as I slid my hands slowly up his thighs, spreading my fingers as I did.

            He licked his lips and breathed in raggedly.  Then he moved forward and took my face in his hands.

            “I wanted to stop and tell you,” he whispered, looking me in the eyes.  I watched him as the pain slowly seeped into his expression.  “I would have told you I was leaving, but I thought…”

            “Thought what?” I asked softly.

            “I thought if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave,” he said.

            I stared.

            “Hell, if I’d even just seen you out in the field planting corn without your shirt on one more time, I know I wouldn’t have been able to keep going,” he said, and there was light humor in his words.

            I grinned.  “I really have that effect on you?”

            Jake nodded.  “Oh, yeah.”

            “Well, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my brow furrowing.  It does that a lot when I’m confused.

            “I was dealing with Jonah then,” he replied.  “If he’d had any idea what I felt for you, I have no idea what he would have done.  It was hard enough dealing with his jealousy when we were sleeping together.  After I left him, he was ready to attack anybody.  You didn’t need any trouble like the kind I was in.”

            I moved closer to him, between his knees, and rubbed his thigh through his jeans.  He sighed hoarsely, tipping his head back.  I took the opportunity to press my body closer to his.

            “You don’t need to protect me, Jake,” I said, letting my eyes run over his form.

            “No…” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.  “You had to protect me.”

            I kissed his forehead and he moved so our lips were brushing.  Looking into his eyes I remembered how often he would visit my place and just drop in.  When my dad had died, though, and my mom had had to go to a home, I’d had to devote most of my attention to Bonnie.  It had been about that time that Jake had stopped dropping in so much.  I was always busy, managing the farm, making sure Bonnie got a good education despite her deafness, and maybe he’d taken that as a sign of rejection.  Had he really?  I wasn’t sure, but not much later he had joined Jonah’s gang.  Jonah must have become his protection.  It was stupid of me; I should have been paying more attention back then.

            “That’s what friends do, Jake,” I replied.  “Everyone needs a place to go when home is out of order.”

            “And you’re it,” he said softly, looking into my eyes as we leaned forehead to forehead.

            “I’m what?” I asked, watching him with a small smile.

            “Home,” he replied.  He leaned down and kissed me.  “You were one of the few things I would have stayed for.”

            I brushed my lips over his and his eyes fluttered closed.  I couldn’t help but run my fingers through his hair and brush the stray strands from his eyes.  He opened them and watched me intensely.  I slid my thumb over his soft, soft lips, knowing several times I had dreamed about just how silky they would be when wet, how they would taste.  Those were wet dreams, to be sure.

            I kneeled lower and dipped my head so my chin was almost on his lap.  I saw the rise and fall of his chest and stomach as he breathed.

            My lips touched his cotton shirt, and I felt the warmth of skin just beneath it.  I slid my right hand to the fringe of his shirt and lifted it slightly.  I leaned in and kissed his stomach, feeling his muscles tense, his breath hitching.  I slid my hand up his side, fingers playing on his ribs, taking the shirt up with it.           

            “Stanley,” he murmured, and the sound of his husky voice saying my name like that nearly drove me over the edge.  I kissed my way up his warm skin to his nipple.  I deftly ran my tongue over it and Jake hissed.  I felt his muscles working under my hand as he squirmed between me and the chair.

            I pulled back slightly and let the shirt fall back into place.  Time to put my attention to other beautiful areas.

            I slid my hand over his obvious erection and his body jerked, hips thrusting against my palm.  I leaned in to press my mouth against his throat.  He breathed in sharply, and the next moment he had moved his head so our mouths were brushing and wetting each others.  I squeezed lightly, and he moaned hungrily into my mouth, moving so he could brush himself against my hand.  I kissed him harder and he sucked on my lower lip, brushed my lips with his tongue.

            “You have no idea,” he whispered against my mouth, thrusting his hips in time with my squeezes and rubs, “how long I’ve…wanted this…” He swallowed hard and then moaned, tilting his head back, thrusting harder.

            “I’ve probably wanted it longer than you,” I replied, grinning.  I took his face in both my hands and kissed him, pressing my mouth hard against his and sliding my tongue past his parted lips.  He groaned into my mouth and his hands went to my arms, gripping.

            I managed to tear myself away from him somehow.  We stared at each other, breathing hard.  All I wanted to do now was keep touching him.  I wanted yank off that green shirt and kiss his stomach and chest, see how loud I could make him cry out when I stroked him to his climax.

            “Jake?” I asked.

            “Yeah?”

            “What say we go back to my place?” I said, brushing my palm over his flushed cheek.  He was so unbearably handsome with those cheekbones and chocolate brown eyes…damn it, would we even make the drive home?  “We need more privacy.”

            Jake half-smiled.

            “What?” I asked curiously.

            He replied, “A spine-cracking orgasm sounds good now, doesn’t it?”

            I grinned.  “Oh, yeah.”

The End