Page 51 of Caught Running
Sighing and trying to push away his worry and uncertainty, Brandon looked over at the clock. “We didn’t have dinner and it’s still early. Want something to eat?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jake answered, kissing Brandon’s neck one last time for good measure before he stepped back to let him move. He looked Brandon up and down appraisingly and smirked. “Want some clothes?”
Glancing down at himself, Brandon rolled his eyes. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice slowly going back to normal. “Don’t like the free show?”
“Mystery can be alluring,” Jake countered with a wag of his finger. “And cooking while naked is not recommended,” he added with a serious nod.
Brandon laughed at him. “You need to get yourself some clothes then, Thundercat. Because whatever I attempted to fix would not be edible. I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t cook.”
Jake muttered and then took a long gulp of his beer. “Pasta?” he suggested after swallowing.
Nodding, Brandon leaned over to kiss him sweetly. “I’m getting in the shower. Want some clothes?” he asked, eyes brightening at his joke.
“Hmph,” Jake answered as he wrapped one arm around Brandon and squeezed his ass in a blatant move.
A little over an hour later, they were back on the couch, Brandon with papers and pen, wearing more of Jake’s clothes, Jake with the television remote and baseball. The science teacher glanced over his glasses in amusement each time Jake crowed or cussed, but held his tongue as he graded. It was comfortable. It was comforting.
When the game ended, Brandon glanced at the clock and groaned. 11:30. He started stacking papers and sliding them into his backpack in resignation. Jake had asked him to stay after Brandon had expressed his desire to wake up with him. But tonight it just wouldn’t work. He had no clothes for work and his tests for tomorrow were on his computer at home.
“Spring training games can bite my ass,” Jake grumbled as he clicked off the television. He looked over at Brandon and tried not to sigh. He knew Brandon had things to take care of at home.
Brandon chuckled and pulled off his glasses. “Opening day next week,” he reminded as he closed his pack and stood up. Jake muttered disconsolately and sulked on the couch. “Christ, don’t do that, Jake. I’ll be driving home and back at 4 a.m.,” Brandon said.
Jake glanced up at him in surprise and then huffed and stood up slowly. “You’d better get going if you’re going to get any sleep,” he said, stepping closer to slide his hands around Brandon’s waist.
“You know I don’t want to go, right?” Brandon murmured, leaning his temple against Jake’s lips.
“Mm hmm,” Jake responded with a little huff.
Brandon sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Wash my uniform, will you?” he asked. “At least the pants and briefs.”
“Oh sure, leave me aloneandmake me do manual labor,” Jake teased with a little kiss to Brandon’s ear before he pulled back. “Yeah, I’ll wash ‘em.”
“Thanks,” Brandon said, smiling. Reluctant to leave, he made himself step back, pick up his pack, and start for the door.
Jake watched him go with his shoulders hunched and his hands deep in the pockets of his sweats. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to stay or come back. And since that was exactly what Jake wanted to do, he kept his mouth shut.
“Hey, Jake?” Brandon asked from where he stopped in the doorway, keys in hand.
“Yeah?” Jake answered, trying to keep his voice even.
Several things warred for the opportunity to be spoken, and for a moment Brandon was afraid it would all spew out. After a long pause, he settled on, “Miss you already.” And he was out the door before he lost the nerve to do what he had to do. Life had to go on, after all. Never mind that it hurt like hell to leave his lover.
Jake frowned as the door closed and sniffed loudly. He shuffled over to the front door and stood by the side window, watching as Brandon drove away.
Standing beside the bus with a clipboard, Brandon tried to give out assignments to the players, two to a room, usually by grade level. He and Jonathan had spent the better part of the evening a few days ago thrashing out who could safely bunk with who. The guys stacked the gear and bags all around, blocking a big chunk of asphalt in the corner lot of the Holiday Inn Holidome in Tampa Bay, and the assistant coach sighed as he tried to get their attention again, finally losing his temper.
“Shut your traps and line up or you’re all sleeping on the damn bus!” he barked over all their chatter, drawing huge eyes and silence. Coach Bartlettneveryelled.
Jake raised his head and peered down from the window of the charter bus at Brandon, just as surprised as the kids seemed to be. He watched the boys all calm down and gather their things, and the other coaches began handing out room keys and checking off names.
The players didn’t even peep as a disgruntled Coach Bartlett read off names and room assignments, and soon they scattered,heading into the hotel, glad to be free of constant supervision for awhile—not that Coach Campbell hadn’t put the fear of God into them about leaving the premises without permission.
Sighing, Brandon muttered a ‘yeah’ to one of the college guys’ question if he was okay. He wasn’t okay. He was fucking exhausted. He’d slept all the way down here and felt worse. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this cranky. Jonathan whistled in wonder and gave Brandon a wide berth as he climbed back into the bus.
“Hey Coach,” Jonathan said quietly, approaching Jake. “What’s with Bartlett? He’s a bear today.”
Jake shrugged and glanced back out the window. “No idea,” he murmured.