Jaime Samms Lost. Broken. Found…loved. Romance for all.

“You bet, Mrs. S. I’ll come get him for a walk in just a few.” Jed waved as he got his own apartment door unlocked. He didn’t specify a few what. Minutes. Hours. Days. He’d just pulled a double in the perpetually under-staffed Hen and Hog, and was exhausted. Not to mention he and Ira had been working opposite shifts and he’d barely seen him for three days. He’d hoped to avoid their elderly neighbour and her little dog, too, but the woman had bat ears or something.

“I’ll keep an ear out!”

“Right. I’ll be—oof!” The apartment door thudded against something heavy and he almost wacked his face into it. “Ira?” He knocked and shoved gently at the unmoving door. “What’s going on?” A glance over his shoulder showed him Mrs. Stanfield had aborted her retreat into her own apartment. He waved again, more feebly then turned to his door and stage whispered. “Ira.”

What had he done? Frantically, he thought back over the last few days to find what offence he’d committed that warranted being blocked out of his own apartment. Surely if Ira was pissed at him, he’d just leave and go down to his own place, one floor directly below.

“Coming!” Ira squeaked from the other side of the door. “Sorry! I’m coming. Give me a—ouch!” There was a thump, an almighty crash and Ira’s high-pitched panic voice. “For the love of—fuck—ow!. Oh. Shit. Okay.  I’m coming, Just a sec.”

The sound of something heavy being dragged across the tiles preceded Ira’s sweaty, flushed face appearing in the door. “Hi.” He scratched at his scalp through drooping frosty blue spikes.

“Hi,” Jed said cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t be mad, okay?”

“Why would I be mad? Can I come in, please? Mrs. Stanfield’s getting way too interested in why I’m still out here.”

“Sorry. Sorry, yeah of course. Shit.” He almost fell over backwards and Jed had to reach through the cracked open door to catch his wrist. “Fuck  Just…” He disappeared, there was more scraping, and the door opened a fraction more. Just enough for Jed to squeeze through.

The apartment was overflowing with furniture. It looked like every last bit of Ira’s apartment had been moved into Jed’s. The tiny space could not handle it all. Lamps balanced precariously on top of piles of boxes. Ira’s art table and supplies were stacked against and on top of the kitchen island, and his clothes filled the cramped kitchen workspace.

His fancy, refurbished sofa had been the heavy item blocking the door, and now Jed had to climb over it to get into the very small open space in the middle of it all.

He lifted on foot to do just that when Ira squeaked.

“You have to—I mean…” He raised big, harrowed eyes to Jed. “You boots.” He pointed with the hand that wasn’t covering his mouth. “Please.”

“Of course, darlin. What was I thinking?” Certainly not that he was going to step on Ira’s immaculate furniture with his motorcycle boots. Wedged in the barely foot-and-a-half square space in the doorway, he wrestled one boot off, climbed over the couch, and plopped down on it to get the other one off.

Ira pushed the door closed behind him and flopped down next to him.

They sat for a moment, shoulder-to-shoulder, Jed with one boot in his hand, and Ira with both his hands twisting in his lap.

“Well,” Jed said at last, tossing the boot over his shoulder where it thudded against the door and fell to the floor. “Better tell me what’s happening.”

“So. Landry called.”

“Okay.” Jed had never met the ex-dancer, now Waterloo student who had lent Ira his apartment to hide out in when he’d left Toronto, but he’d always assumed he was a decent sort of guy, to risk his deposit on letting a friend in need squat in his place. Now it looked like he might have to revise that thought.

“So he sort of…dropped out.”

“He’s coming back, then?”

“Well no. He’s moving to Vancouver with his artist boyfriend or something. But he sort of got cut off.”

“From?”

“His father sort of took away his allowance.”

“And?”

“And so he needed his deposit back, because now he has no money, and it was too late to get a refund of his tuition. And I mean. We work at the same place. You know I don’t have that kind of money to give him, so he had to let the lease go. Because I could have danced a few gigs to get it, probably. But—”

“I never complained about you dancing, darlin. You know that.” Jed wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Just that I want to be there. To keep you safe.”

“No, I know. And that’s cool. But…”

“You didn’t want to.”

“Not really? And anyway, it was too short notice to get good enough gigs for that kind of cash, and I couldn’t very well tell him I still needed his place, since I don’t. It was only ever a place to hide from Cedric, and I don’t have to do that anymore.” He stopped abruptly, a half-grin on his face at the realization he had every now and then, that he had banished that monster from his life by putting him behind bars once and for all.

“So…”

“People came to look at the place today. A really nice young couple. It’s perfect for them, and tomorrow’s the first of the month. I had to get my stuff out.”

Jed released him so he could twist around to see him better. “And how the hell did you get all your shit up here by yourself?”

“Well I—didn’t. The guys helped. Bryce and Avery and those guys.” He frowned “Except Mitch. He said he would, but he never showed. I wish I knew where he was.”

“Never mind Mitch right now.” Jed had a few thoughts about Ira’s drug-using, stripper friend he knew were terribly uncharitable. He was having a harder time banishing them every time the guy didn’t show up for Ira when Ira needed help, but did manage to find him whenever he needed something.

“Also the nice couple, Rod and Kristie, they had a few friends willing to help. You’ll like them. One of them owns a diner…the Breadbasket or something?”

“Egg Basket. It’s about a block from here.” Jed shook his head. “And not the point.”

“Right. Sorry. I’m…” he huffed. “I’m sorry about this. You don’t have to take me in. I’m sure I can find a room or—”

“Stop.” Jed took Ira’s face in his hands. “It isn’t if I want you here. It’s if you want to be here.”

Ira gazed at him. “I didn’t intend this to happen so soon.”

“I know. That’s why I’m askin’. If you’re not ready, then we’ll figure it out.”

Ira stared at him as if waiting for something.

Not knowing what else to do, Jed kissed him.

It was usually magical the way Ira melted into him. This time, it was more like trying to get hold of squirming puppy made of smoke and wishes.

Ira opened for his tongue, gripped his shoulders and then fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, but gave up before he got any of them open. He tried to squirm into his lap, but knocked a shin on an end table and swore into the kiss.

Jed cupped his chin and pulled them out of the kiss. “Darlin’, I think you’ve sworn more in the past fifteen minutes than I’ve heard you swear since I met you.”

“I just—I don’t know—Jed.” He almost whined, and his gaze pled with Jed to fix this.

Jed nodded. “I know just what you need.”

“You do?”

Jed grinned. “First, we have to take off my shirt and spread it over your special couch. Don’t want to make a mess of all your hard work, do we?”

“A mess?”

Jed flipped Ira onto his back on the couch next to him and started undoing his own buttons. He winked. “Trust me, darlin’.”

Ira nodded. “’Kay.” He said, breathless in the exact way Jed had aimed for.

When Ira was happy, getting him to surrender was as easy as kissing him. When he was tired, as was so often the case these days, because he worked more extra shifts than was really good for him, he as much as begged Jed to take control and love him into oblivion.

Which, of course, Jed was more than happy to do.

But when he was anxious, when he most needed the mental break of letting Jed take care of him and the physical break of burning off some of the extra energy and the tension, he found it so hard to let go and let Jed take over.

Today was an anxiety day, and Jed soon discovered the breathlessness wasn’t due to desire so much as it was due to nerves, overthinking, and his need for order, which the apartment was not affording right then.

“Lift your hips, Ira.”

Ira blinked at him.

Jed waited.

Finally, Ira did as he’d been told, bracing his feet on Jed’s thigh to lift his ass off the couch.

Deftly, Jed slipped his shirt under Ira’s ass, gripped the waistband of the dance leggings and lacy underpants he was wearing, and yanked them down. He only pulled them as far as Ira’s knees, leaving them there, where they restricted his freedom.

“What are you doing?” Ira watched him, tongue licking in fast flashes along his lips.

Jed leant down and kissed his thigh, then slapped it, not hard, but sharp enough to elicit a gasp.

“Should I take them off?” Ira started to do so, and Jed smacked his bottom this time. “You do exactly as I tell you, not one thing more, not one thing less. Understood?”

Ira nodded.

“Voice, please.”

“Yes.” Ira squeaked, then flushed, but already, his pupils were dilated, and if his hands were still fluttery, at least for the moment, his attention was fixed on Jed. “I understand.” This time, his voice was quiet, but not as high-pitched. That was a good sign.

“Good. Now wrap both arms around the backs of you knees and grip your elbows.”

“Sounds uncomfortable.”

“Probably is, but you’re flexible.”

Ira grinned. “I’m a dancer.” He did as Jed had ordered. “Now what?”

Jed went around to where he could kiss him. He got a soft moan for his effort, so he straightened. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” A bit of the shrill returned and Jed almost stopped to look at him but managed to stay on track and move away from the couch.

He deliberately didn’t answer the question. It was hard to ignore Ira’s need to know the next step, but it was necessary. Asking incessant questions of Jed, his actions, his thoughts—those were Ira’s bid for control over a situation that was out of his control, and he needed the reminder that Jed could be trusted with him, and with the messy situation.

It would be okay if Ira wasn’t in charge for a moment. If he could let Jed be in control, he could also let the chaos slide off him a little, until they had it under control.

Besides, it wasn’t like there was another room for Jed to disappear into. He had to shift boxes and clamber over stuff, but he was in Ira’s field of view the entire time he rummaged for his quarry.

“Jed?” When he turned back to face the couch with their box of toys in hand, Ira’s eyes got wider, his voice high and tight. “What are we going to do?”

Jed grinned at him as he climbed back over Ira’s things to him. “You ask a lot of questions, darlin’.”

“Are you going to answer any of them?”

“You’ll see what I’m going to do when I do it.”

“You know I like to have a plan.”

“You don’t need a plan. All you need to do is let me take care of you.”

“Are you going to fuck me with a dildo?” The way his eyes shimmered as he said it, despite the breathy quality of the words, made Jed think he sort of liked that idea.

Jed’s answer was to pull out a sparkly purple butt plug Ira had purchased some time ago because he liked the colour, but had never gotten around to trying out.

Ira said nothing as he stared hard at the toy.

Jed was careful to let Ira watch the ritual of him slathering the plug with lube.

“Why that?” Ira asked when it was fully greased up.

Jed smiled at him and pressed the tip of the plug against Ira’s entrance. He watched Ira’s face as he pushed the tip in, pulled it out, then pushed it back in a little farther. He kept up the slow, steady rhythm of push, release, push, release until he had the plug in to its widest girth, and Ira’s hole stretched snugly around it.

He had to admit, the sight of that made his dick ache to be there instead, but that wasn’t the point of this at all. He could wait for his own pleasure until Ira was ready.

Ira groaned and huffed, but he’d stopped asking questions, stopped fidgeting, stopped everything but staring at Jed with big eyes and pursed lips.

“This,” Jed whispered, putting pressure on the plug and easing it slowly into Ira’s body until only the flange remained, “because you need something to focus your attention on the process of integrating our things and not letting your anxiety overrun you.”

“How am I supposed to focus on moving furniture when that thing is—God. It feels bigger than it looks.”

“No doubt.”

“How am I supposed to focus when I’m so full?”

Jed held out a hand “Up you get.”

Ira took his hand and rolled to his side, then eased, ever so gently, to a sitting position. “Je-ed. Shit. It’s…” He groaned and closed his eyes.

Jed petted him, tucking a bit of hair behind Ira’s ear, smoothing his fingertips over Ira’s cheek and along his jaw. “Breathe, darlin’.”

“You want me to move furniture like this?”

Jed grinned. “Well. You can pull up your pants first, I suppose.”

“Jed!”

Jed cupped his face, getting his undivided attention again. “Trust me.”

“This isn’t a focus. It’s distracting!”

“Trust me,” Jed said again, and got up. “You start moving boxes so that we can get the door open while I go get my truck.”

“I might just take it out while you’re gone!” Ira lifted his chin and glared.

Jed kissed him soundly. “You won’t.”

And he knew he wouldn’t, because Ira’s threat hadn’t been shrill at all, but throaty and full of want. He could have been squirming around trying to find a comfortable position, or rocking to feel the plug move inside him, but he wasn’t. He sat perfectly still staring at Jed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, his breathing shallow, sure, but his attention utterly focused on Jed.

“I won’t,” he agreed in a whisper, finally.

“Good deal.”

On his way to pull his truck around to the back of the building where the freight elevator let out into a back hallway that, in turn, lead to a door to the back parking lot, Jed stopped to let Mrs. S. know he wouldn’t be a to walk her dog until morning.

He also stopped at Ira’s old apartment and knocked lightly on the door.

After a moment, a young woman peeked out the crack without taking the chain off.

“Hi there.” He smiled at her. “You don’t have to take the chain off, if you don’t want. I just wanted to let you know I’m the building’s superintendent, Jed. I live directly above you. With Ira. Now.”

“Oh!” She smiled. “Ira’s so nice.”

He could hardly argue that point, so he didn’t. “Have you moved your things in yet?”

Her cheeks turned a faint pink. “We don’t have much, so yeah. Basically.”

“Well, it might save us some haulage and time, if there’s anything we have double of that you can use.”

She looked a little bit hopeful, but before she could say anything, someone called from the elevator. “Can I help you?”

Jed turned to the new voice to see a skinny, long-nosed, all knees-and-elbows figure approaching. They did their best to look menacing, but in fact, Ira probably had about twenty pounds on the kid.

Jed backed well away from the door to the apartment.

“Hi there. I’m Jed. I’m the building super. I came to see if you would need the freight elevator to move your things, but—”

“No.”

“Okay. I also—”

“We’re fine. Thanks.”

“Rod.” The door to the apartment opened.

“Kristie, stay inside.”

“Stop,” she said gently coming out into the hallway to take Rod’s arm and lean on him. She was, if anything, slightly smaller than Rod. “Where’s Scratch?”

Rod glanced over his shoulder and Jed followed his gaze.

Sitting outside the elevator was a dog—probably. The creature was as scrawny as his owners, with floppy ears and a whip-like tail that stood straight out behind him, motionless. The dog was sitting, but he wasn’t relaxed. His attention was fixed on Rod, but Jed had no doubt if it thought Jed was threatening either of these two, he’d lose a finger or two.

“I was just telling Kristie that with all of Ira’s and my stuff in our place, we can barely move. I wanted to offer you guys whatever we don’t need that you can use. A pull-out couch, a dining table and chairs, maybe some pots and pans—”

“Oh, We don’t need those” Kristie grinned at her partner. “Rod’s a cook, and his boss, Marcus, bought him this really good set of cookware for Christmas last year. He cooks at the Egg Basket, and teaches teenagers to work in the kitchen.” She was clearly besotted with her skinny, suspicious person.

Were these two any older than teenagers themselves? Or was Jed just getting to that age where everyone younger suddenly looked twelve to him?

“Kris,” Rod said softly, his cheeks colouring.

“Well, it’s true. You really help those kids.”

Jed barely stopped his snort, hearing her refer to teens as kids. “What about the furniture?” he asked. “You both want to come up and see what w have that you can use?”

“Why would you do that?” Rod asked. “We just put down first and last month’s rent. We’ve got, like zero dollars.”

“I just want to be able to walk across my apartment, and I would only be donating it anyway. Might as well give it to you as a stranger.”

“We are strangers.”

Jed grinned. “For now.”

“We’ll come up,” Kristie said, straightening and turning, a hand flat on her chest. The dog trotted to her side and sat, still eyeing Jed, but more relaxed now. “Good boy, Scratch.” She tickled him behind his ears and his butt wiggled on the floor. “I’ll just put him inside.”

“Good deal.” Jed quickly texted Ira a head’s up that he was bringing the two young people up to look at the extra furniture, then led the way back to the elevator.

In the end, they wanted Jed’s old pull out, his dining table and chairs, coffee table, and all his corning ware dishes. They were also keen to take Ira’s coffee maker, and grinder, hi set of kitchen canisters. Ira promised to bring them all the extra floor rugs, once he and Jed had decided which ones they wanted to keep. The kitchen stuff, chairs and coffee table they moved right then, and promised to be back for the bigger items the next day when they had more help.

“That was easy,” Jed said, gazing around the room, hands on his hips.

Ira’s couch had taken the place of Jed’s, as had his coffee table, living room rug and dining table, though Jed’s table sat upside-down on top of it, just to get it out of the way until Rod and Kristie could get it.

The couch was pushed up against one wall, and Jed pulled in a breath, glaring at his half-empty bookshelves. “Those will have to go, too.”

“But your books.”

“I can hang a few shelves on the wall for them, and getting the floor units out will leave more room for your art table.”

“I can use the small one for my supplies. Maybe They’ll want the milk crates I was using.”

Jed nodded. “I’ll put the big units out in the hall, use the crates for my books until I get new shelves up. You organize your supplies and table.”

“Now?” Ira almost whined.

“I’m energized. If we don’t do it now, I’ll run out of steam, and then it’ll be another day or two before we get to it.”

Ira nodded. “I know.” He squirmed. “You had better not run out of energy before—”

Jed stopped his words with a kiss that left him panting. “Don’t you worry about that, Darlin’.”

“Evil.”

Jed grinned. “You love that about me.”

“Maybe a little.”

He couldn’t help noticing how often Ira had to rearrange his position as he worked. It sent a little thrill through him every time Ira glanced over at him, eyes narrowed, jaw set.

“How you doin’?” he asked after about a half hour had passed.

“How long are you really going to torture me?”

Jed grinned wide at him. “I’d ask you if your comfort was more important than your art supplies, but I already know the answer.”

Ira tilted his head. “Nothing is more important to me than you, though. You know that, right?”

Jed’s grin wavered. “Yeah, darlin’. I know that.”

“Do you though?” Ira murmured and turned back to his work.

It left Jed thinking about it. Of course he know Ira loved him. They said to eachother often enough, and showed eachother even more often. He watched Ira work.

His lover’s jaw was set in a determined clench, his focus trained on lining up his containers of paints on the spice racks he’d thrifted for the purpose. His brushes had already been arranged by size and other mysterious criteria Jed knew nothing about, in their jars on the top of the repurposed bookshelf.

Paints done, he turned to the boxes of the sculptures he’s carefully swaddled in bubble wrap and tape to carry up one flight. Jed didn’t blame him. The delicate pieces had taken him hours of work in sculpting and painting, and the detail was incredible.

He worked diligently, setting each revealed sculpture on his worktable, examining them as they were unwrapped to make sure they’d made the move without getting damaged.

It occurred to Jed that the simple act of taking the ‘torture’, trusting that Jed would make it okay in the end, was, itself an act of love. Ira didn’t trust easily, He’d fiercely protected his heart, even from Jed, for a long time.

The only person he’d depended on for most of his teenage and young adult life had been himself. That he had moved everything he owned into Jed’s place without talking to him about it, trusted that Jed would accept the move—that showed Jed more than anything Ira could ever say—that he had Ira’s heart.

“Hey.” Jed took the sculpture Ira was holding out of his hand, set it carefully onto the table, and took his man into his arms. “You know what?”

Ira gazed at him, half amused, half sultry. “No. What?”

“What you did today.” Jed dropped a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “It means more than I can tell you that you trusted me this much.”

“What do you mean?”

“That you moved all your things in here, didn’t even tell me.”

“You were busy. I know the bar was short-staffed again today, and the people were here to move the furniture, so I didn’t want to delay them. I’m really sorry I didn’t ask you.”

“I’m not. I’m… amazed that you believe in us this much.”

Ira gave him a crooked, tired smile. “Not like when we first met.”

“You were dealing with a lot then. And me on my bike.” He nodded “That was also a lot.”

Ira grinned then. “I can’t believe you actually thought I’d just hop on your bike like it was nothing.” He leaned into Jed, gazing up at him. “But I love that about you. That you just inherently expect the best from people.” He laid his head on Jed’s chest and sighed. Both his arms wrapped around Jed’s waist, and that was the very best feeling in the world.

“You calling me naïve?” Jed asked, amused.

“Baby, you are so naïve.”

Jed reached down and tapped his ass. Not lightly.

Ira squawked. “About people,” he said. “About the world.” He snuggled close. “I hope that never changes. There’s only enough room in this apartment for one of us to be cynical at a time.”

Jed eased him away enough to get a finger under his chin and lift his head. There was nothing to say in the face of Ira’s besotted gaze, since he expected his own expression was pretty much the exact same.

He bent for a kiss that Ira reached for, and it was a long time before either of them said anything else.