Page 16 of Christmas Miracle
NINE
Would John laugh, if he knew that, in that one moment, Brett had gone further sexually than he had ever been with anyone else? Probably. And Brett didn’t think he could take that, not when John hadn’t even kissed him. It had been made very clear just what sort of thing this was, and Brett wasn’t going to make even more of an idiot of himself than he already had.
So he had gotten up out of the bed where they had brought each other pleasure, his eyes stinging. If only that could have meant something. Brett would have given everything to John, and a little bit too easily, too, embarrassingly so.
Things between them had been a bit strained ever since, but Brett tried to get through it by acting as usual. He got the sense that John was doing the same thing, and as the days passed, the countdown to Christmas ticking down, honestly Brett was at work so much that he didn’t even see his best friend very much.
It was busy at work, swamped even. Not enough massage therapists, too many people in pain. People that were trying to use up their benefits before they reset in the new year.
As easy as it was to act like everything was the same, though, it wasn’t. Not for Brett, anyway, who had new things to wonder about. John had initiated that, no doubt about it, and more than that, John had known his way around an erection. Why? Not that it was any of his business, but he was curious, no doubt.
One night, just a few days before Christmas, Brett came into the warmth of his house and fought down the little smile that he always felt tugging at the corners of his lips when he saw how John was draped over the couch, just as he usually was when Brett came home. It was sort of nice, having someone to greet him, not something he was used to at all but soothing.
He had never thought about how just hearing someone else’s breath in the house would make him feel less lonely. Hadn’t even known how crushing his loneliness had been until he had it relieved.
“You’re late,” John observed, not sounding judgmental, just saying something that they both knew was true. “I made dinner. It’s probably cold now.”
That was another thing. Brett, being gone so much, rarely had time to cook for himself, or to clean the house. John had taken over those duties, which did even more to turn this little house into what felt like a home again.
“Yes,” Brett agreed since it was nothing but the truth. “They double booked me again, so I had to stay late to finish up the last client.” He yawned, almost unbearably sleepy, his body aching with the long day. His own hand settled on his lower back, trying to push on it, to provide some relief to his overstressed body.
“Hey, are you okay?” John asked, and it seemed like he really did care, so Brett, even if he hesitated, sighed and shook his head. He was probably supposed to tell some sort of polite lie here, but he found that he couldn’t make himself.
“No. I’m exhausted,” he said openly. “I hate the place I work, and even though I love helping people, it’s just too much. It’s all too much.”
He hadn’t said anything of the sort, not to anyone. Ever. He was more the type of person to keep it to himself, but John’s question had come at the exact right time when he was tired and vulnerable, and he was surprised by the lightening of tension in his body just from saying the words.
John sat up, not saying anything but his face, his eyes, intent on Brett. Listening. John always had been a good listener.
“Why do you still work there?” John asked, and he did something very odd as Brett settled down onto the couch beside him. He wrapped his arm around Brett’s shoulder, tugged him in close. They had never been the sort of friends who did that sort of thing, and Brett was surprised by just how much he liked it.
“What do you mean? They pay me, and I go in to work.” To Brett, there had never been anything else, not since he had gotten his training. It was just how it was, and any time that he had ever considered otherwise, he had pushed the thought away. Why rock the boat, when what he was doing was working?
“Right. But there are other places you could work. Places that would treat you better. Appreciate you.” John’s strong arm was so warm as it settled onto Brett’s shoulder, so easily able to guide Brett in so that his head was against John’s chest. Drawing his legs up onto the couch, too, Brett entrusted his weight to John, and he had to close his eyes at the pleasure of it.
“I’ve thought of starting my own business,” Brett admitted, surprising himself with the words, because yes, he had always thought about it, but that was all he had done. It had always seemed hopelessly complex.
“Oh yeah?” John seemed interested, and Brett nodded a little. “So why haven’t you, then, man? I mean, you’re damn good at your job, I know that now.” There was something very smooth in that deep voice, something intimate, and Brett actually blushed a little bit. Sometimes, it seemed like John didn’t even remember what they had done together, but he could tell at that moment that he did.
“Finding new clients. Finding a place to work out of. Buying my supplies, the table.” Brett ticked off the items, the problems that had always defeated him. “What if the people I’ve been working with didn’t follow me? At least where I am, I get a steady paycheck.”
“But they’re taking advantage of you,” John murmured, and Brett closed his eyes when he felt the press of John’s lips against his temple, feather-light. Or was he imagining it? Probably.
“Shh. It’s okay. I’m fine.” Brett pulled away from the seductive embrace. Just smelling John, feeling his massive, warm body against himself, it was threatening to turn him on. Ever since they had gotten each other off, Brett had been more aware of his own body, like something that he had been ignoring successfully for years had come back with a vengeance.
“I don’t like it,” John, loyal John, grumbled, and Brett smiled a bit and gazed into his handsome face, able to so easily get lost in the smallest of details, the seductive pout of his full lower lip, the crows-feet at the corners of his eyes, which Brett found almost unbearably sexy.
He had always been in love with this man, so it felt. He had always thought that John was probably the only person he could ever allow himself to be with, the only one he could trust, but the sexual component, that had largely been out of the equation, until he knew that he could have it.
“How’s your back?” Brett asked, mostly to break the tension which shimmered like live coals in the air between them. Was John thinking about it, too? Wondering if it could happen again, even though Brett had gotten the idea that it was only supposed to happen once?
“Hurts,” John admitted, and that was a huge breakthrough. Until recently, Brett knew that John would have said that he was fine, that it was no big deal.
“If you want,” Brett said, carefully keeping the eagerness out of his own voice, “you can come back to my bed, and I’ll rub it for you.”
It didn’t mean anything would happen, and Brett knew that, and he accepted it. Even if nothing did happen, he still wanted to help. John hesitated, but then nodded, and there was a question in his eyes that Brett wasn’t sure that he knew how to answer.
Only who was he kidding? If John wanted to go again, Brett would be right there with him. Far too eagerly, he would give whatever John wanted, and if that was pathetic, well, that was being in love.
