Page 42 of Caught Running
It was easier to get back to work than he’d expected. He wasn’t too distracted; it was like his memories and thoughts about the weekend just receded. They were no less important, but they didn’t jockey for attention unless he deliberately focused on them. Like now.
The sex last night had been equal parts rough passion and tender touching, enough of a dichotomy that it would drive Brandon’s analytical mind over the edge if he let it. He was trying hard to not give Jake reason to throw something at him. Now, away from Jake, he was fighting the urge to go out to the gym and find him. He was undecided about eating lunch in the teachers’ lounge in about an hour. He wondered if he would see the man he was now thinking of as “My Jake” rather than “Coach Campbell.” His lover really was two separate people.
His lover. What a thought. Did two days make that appellation true? Or did it have to last longer? Jake’s actions and even words indicated he was interested in keeping Brandon around, and Brandon wasn’t going to disagree. How Jake held him when they drifted off to sleep convinced him that the otherman had to feel something for him, even if it was just friendly affection colored by heated desire.
One of the girls trying to get his attention pulled the science teacher out of his thoughts. Brandon set aside the essays and got back to work. But Jake was right there, on the edge of his awareness.
The real Jake stalked through the crowded cafeteria, glaring at kids who got too loud and stealing fries off the plates of kids he knew. He was able to keep all thoughts of what had gone on the past weekend cleanly out of mind. It was the game-face advantage, honed over many years. He’d taken a brief moment to be disappointed when he woke alone, and a slightly longer time smiling uncontrollably as he remembered the night before. And he’d spared a few moments of thought to wonder how they would treat each other if they saw each other before practice. Jake honestly didn’t know how he would react. Would he be friendly and familiar with the man? Or would his other instincts kick in and make him hide behind his newspaper like he always did?
Jake prayed for the former and quietly dreaded the latter as the bell rang.
Brandon was still undecided about lunch. His normal plan was about 50/50, depending on what work he wanted to accomplish. Considering how little work he’d gotten done over the weekend, he should have been more behind, but his classes were in a lull between tests. He looked down at the essays, not at all interested in reading them. He was more interested in going to the lounge on the off chance that Jake might be there.
But what would he say? How would he act? What if other people were there and Brandon retreated into his turtle shell while Jake went back to brash and boisterous? What if there werenoother people there besides Jake? Would he be theeasygoing guy he’d been with Jake or would he turn back into his quiet, withdrawn self?
Finally he rolled his eyes at his fretting. Christ. He was acting like a high school kid with a crush.You do have a crush, he reminded himself with a wince. Time would tell how much of one, but right now it felt pretty damn serious. He decided to go to the lounge. He didn’t want to hide. Brandon grabbed his planner, an apple and the sandwich he’d made at Jake’s the night before, and left his classroom for the trek to the commons area.
Jake stood in the middle of the hall, towering over the sea of kids coming and going for the third lunch period with a long walking stick held over his shoulders like a water carrier. He was essentially on Brute Squad duty, and as soon as the kids filtered out of the halls he could see to his own lunch.
Brandon turned the corner, walking with one eye on his planner and one on the kids in front of him, heading around the circle to the wide hallway that led to the commons, occasionally jostled by the kids on their way to lunch. It didn’t bother him, and he murmured a hello and pushed up his glasses when a few different students greeted him.
Jake turned, recognized the telltale bowed head of his weekend lover, and smirked, his stomach flipping quite inappropriately. He began to ease his way through the thinning crowd of kids, setting his large body in Brandon’s path as the man came toward him with his eyes on his planner.
Brandon glanced to the side when a group of girls pushed past him, hitting his elbow and apologizing as they kept walking. He shook his head and barely came to an abrupt stop just before he walked right into a very recognizable chest. Both Brandon’s brows flew up as he juggled the planner, the apple and the sandwich while chancing a look up at Jake.
Jake grinned at him and winked. “Watch where you’re walkin’, buddy,” he murmured in a voice low enough that none of the kids would hear him and mistake it for anything but teasing.
Brandon’s lips twitched into a smile, and he realized it was going to be okay. Now that he was with Jake—it was all okay. “Hey, Coach,” he greeted. “Have a good weekend?” he asked evenly, but his eyes sparkled. No one would think anything of the two coaches talking in the hall.
“Coulda been better,” Jake answered with a shrug and a twitch of his lips.
Amusement clear on his face, Brandon just nodded. “Well, that’s too bad,” he sympathized, nodding to one of the varsity players who walked by. “My weekend was spectacular. Going to lunch?” he asked, holding up the apple.
“Yeah,” Jake answered with a huge grin as he reached out and took the apple with a cheeky “Thanks.”
Brandon didn’t even try to swipe it back. “Lounge?” he asked, turning to continue down the hall.
Jake jerked his head in that direction and made one more sweep of the hallway. Most of the kids had filtered into or out of the lunch rooms, and his duty was now over. He lowered his stick and walked alongside of Brandon, discreetly using it as a sort of cane. “How’s your day been?” he asked with a smile he couldn’t seem to repress.
“Not too bad for a Monday. I’m only a little behind on my grading,” Brandon answered. “How’s your knee?” he asked in a casual tone.
“Hurts like a bitch,” Jake answered candidly, still smiling in an almost serene way as they walked. “My ankle’s kickin’ it up again, too. The tendon’s tight,” he said, not realizing that that was more information he ever gave anyone about his aches and pains, even his closest friends.
Brandon made a noncommittal noise. They’d gotten too wrapped up in each other yesterday for Brandon to try a treatment, and Jake had claimed he wasn’t hurting at all. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely as they entered the noisier commons area. “Do they always make you hobble down here for hall duty?” he ribbed, a smile flitting around the corners of his mouth.
“I’m the only teacher not afraid to beat a kid with a stick,” Jake joked as he waved his makeshift cane around. “I get it three times a week unless there’s a game,” he answered more seriously.
“That’s a lot; I only draw it once every two weeks or so,” Brandon said as he pushed open the door to the lounge.
“Welcome to the world of P.E.,” Jake responded with a smirk as he followed Brandon into the room. A careful glance showed the room was empty, and Jake placed the end of his stick at the base of the door as soon as it had closed and pulled Brandon to him to give him a quick kiss. “Hi,” he said as he let Brandon go.
Brandon’s eyes widened as he was quickly kissed and just as quickly released. His features softened as he looked up at Jake. “Hi,” he replied.
“I don’t like this you leaving at the crack of dawn arrangement,” Jake growled.
Brandon’s heart skipped a beat. “You don’t?”
“No,” Jake sulked until he heard a shuffle of feet outside the door. He waited for a moment as they passed and then grinned widely. “You giving me a ride home?” he asked softly.