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He briefly considered going to his room and pretending that the flu was trying to claim him as its next victim, but he shelved the idea as insulting and low. He didn't want to
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hide, didn't want to fight. He and Tor had somehow, in the last couple of months, managed to find a place where they were comfortable, if not friendly, and he suspected that a blatant retreat would do more harm than good.

Besides, it was just eating supper, like they always did, and probably watching TV. Like they always did. No need to panic, and if things looked like they could go sour he could go to bed early.

Tor had thought, like Jake, that he'd have the place to himself, so supper was simple.

They ate at the table, exchanging bits of family gossip and talking about gifts they'd received; Lego in Jake's case, a rather impressive coffee table book on history of the Southwest in Tor's. "I rented a couple of movies," Tor said when they were done. "Just action stuff–was planning on flaking out for the night with popcorn and mind numbing explosions."

"Sounds fine." Jake gathered up the dishes and took them to the sink. "I'll wash up and grab a shower, you go ahead. Don't bother waiting if you don't want to."

He did the dishes quickly, leaving them on the rack to dry, then went to his room and stripped. Could be an all right night, he figured. Supper went well enough. When he came out again, showered and dressed in sweatpants and a t–shirt he could smell popcorn and hear what sounded like Tommy Lee Jones.

They sat down and passed a few hours with Men in Black and Men in Black II, Jake on the easy chair and Tor on the couch. When Tor made more popcorn he came back with the largest bowl they had, filled to the top. "Don't bite, you know. Can sit over here, if you want."

Jake watched Tor put the bowl in the middle of the couch and then go put the next tape in. There wasn't really a reason to move, except Tor had offered. And there wasn't a reason to stay. So he got up and moved to the couch, the popcorn between them, and settled back to watch something forgettable that had a budget of a kazillion dollars for special effects.

Jake found his mind wandering, his concentration floating away from the movie so often that he completely lost track of the plot. He kept his eyes on the TV though, not willing to check and see what Tor was doing. Probably watching the movie. Why wouldn't he be?

Still, Jake found himself having to fight to not look over at Tor.

It was stupid, he knew. What did it matter if he looked at the man? Why should it bother him that he wanted to? Why was he trying to find Tor's scent under the smell of butter and popcorn?

Ah, hell.

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He shifted on the couch, slouching further down, fidgeting when it occurred to him that slouching made his legs splay out. He could feel himself flush, and was about ready to flee to his room for the night when the movie ended and Tor leaned over for the remote.

"Almost midnight," Tor said quietly. He didn't look at Jake, just turned on the TV and found the celebrations in Little Rock. They watched the presenters talking to people in the crowds, listen to drunken partiers wishing everyone a good year, looked at the excitement as people waited for the countdown.

Fucking year was almost done. Thank God. And may he never have another like it.

Tor sat back on the couch, legs out in front of him, arms crossed against his chest. Jake had a sudden flash of the previous New Year's Eve, in the same living room, the same show on the TV. Tor on his knees between Jake's spread thighs, sucking his cock and happy to be doing it. Jake bit off a moan. He had to get out of there. Except he couldn't really just stand up and go, could he? Even if he was prepared to deal with Tor seeing him, knowing…he wasn't sure he could walk. He felt weak and dizzy, and goddamn he just wanted.

They sat in silence through the countdown, not saying anything, not looking at each other when it was done and the fireworks started. Tor reached for the remote after a few minutes, muting the sound and flicking through the channels, looking for another movie, Jake assumed.

Time to go. Before it was too late.

Jake stood up and picked up the empty popcorn bowl, his mouth dry. "I'm going to bed,"

he said softly.

"Jake." Only his name, but it was husky and rich and deep, filled with pain and longing and Jake had to look at him.

Tor stood up to face him, eyes dark, arms straight by his sides, like he was bracing himself. And he was hard, so hard he had to ache, and Jake felt everything in him, everything he was, go still at the sight. God, Tor was beautiful, and he couldn't look away.

"Want you," Tor said.

Jake didn't even answer, just moved forward, or maybe Tor did, it didn't matter. What mattered was the kissing, the moans and bites, the hands that seemed to be everywhere but not where they were most needed. They didn't say anything about what they were doing or where they were going, just started down the hall, losing clothes on the way.

Jake knew this was out of control, that he should have taken off about two hours ago, but it was easy to push the thought away. Tor's mouth was on his, the taste of Tor, the heat
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from his skin; Jake found himself pinned to the wall outside his room, gasping as Tor's fingers dug into his hair and his hips. "Oh God, yeah. Harder–"

Tor ground against him, breathing ragged, mouth leaving a trail of fire along his shoulder, kisses and bites mingling. Jake thrust against Tor, hands going to Tor's ass and finding skin–only his own sweatpants between them, and when the hell did Tor lose his pants?

He dismissed the thought as unimportant, forcing a hand between them to take Tor's cock in hand, fingers finding the hot flesh and wrapping around it easily.

"Oh fuck. God, Jake–" Tor thrust once and backed away. "Bed." Tor reached for Jake, kissing him again even as he guided them through the door and the few steps into the room. They fell on the bed in a tangle, both of them pushing at Jake's sweatpants, and then it was blissful, skin on skin and the air filled with moans as they thrust together, hands pulling and stroking.

Tor was on top of him, panting, moving. Jake could feel muscles working under his hands, the smooth lines of Tor's back flexing as he dipped his head to tease at Jake's chest. It was too much, but not nearly what he wanted, and when he pushed Tor over the man went easily.

It had been months since he'd used lube of any kind, wasn't even sure if there was any, but they found a tube in the nightstand. Then Jake was slick, and Tor was pushing back against his fingers, begging for more, needing more, and Jake wasn't about to deny either of them. Not then, not at that point.

It was fast and furious when he finally pushed his way in, fucking hard and deep, any control they had left in the hallway with their clothes or maybe in the living room with the popcorn bowl. Tor arched against him, crying out, wanting more and harder, and oh fuck, Jake, yes, like that, and Jake gave it to him. Took Tor. Fucked Tor. Made them both cry out at the end, coming in hot gushes moments apart that seemed perfect.

And it was perfect, right up until Jake collapsed across him and Tor kissed him again, then whispered, "Yours."

Ice water couldn't have shaken Jake more. He rolled over on this back, away from Tor and shook his head. "No. Not mine."

Tor blinked at him. "What?"

"Not mine," Jake said slowly, thoughts and images washing over him. Travis on his knees. Tor fucking him, Jake drinking himself sick. Months of pain and anger. Betrayal and the months that lead up to it. "You're not mine. I'm not yours–"

"What the fuck? What the hell was that, then?" Tor sounded disbelieving and hurt, voice starting to rasp.

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"You thought a quick fuck was going to fix us?" Jake demanded, knowing it was unfair and not able to stop the words. Jesus, they hadn't even used a condom, and how fucking stupid was that?

"I thought–fuck, Jake. I thought we were doing good. Working on getting along. I've been trying so fucking hard to be–to be someone you would want. I thought we were doing better." Tor's eyes were starting to shine and he sat up on the bed, drawing his knees to his chest. "I thought we were working it out."

Jake sat up as well looking at the wall. "Tor. God. I know that, I do. And we are doing better. We're getting along, and even having some fun, but…" He trailed off as the truth slammed into him, almost taking his breath away. "But I don't trust you. And I don't think I'll be able to again."

Tor didn't say anything for a long moment. "Ever?" he asked quietly.

Jake shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is that we were thoroughly screwed up before the summer and I didn't see it. I don't think it's fixed yet, and I don't know if it can be. All I know is that I hurt all the time, and I still…God. I still get so angry sometimes. I don't think we're going to get back together, Tor."

Tor looked at him, eyes searching for something he obviously didn't find. "I can't stay, then. I can't stay here with you, not without some sort of hope."

Jake nodded and said nothing. He knew it was coming. Tor got off the bed and left him sitting there in the dark.

~*~*~

On January the second, early in the morning, Tor loaded the last of his things into the truck and had a quiet word with the Boss while he waited for Kirk to drive him to town.

Jake and Elias stood on the porch of the bunkhouse, not speaking, just watching.

Finally Kirk got in the truck, and Tor shook hands with the Boss. He turned to look at Jake and Elias, and for a few moments Jake thought he would just get in the truck and go.

Instead he walked over and stood at the bottom of the stairs. Elias went down and shook his hand, wishing him well.

Jake waited, leaning on the railing.

Three steps up and Tor stood next to him, one hand reaching out to cup his jaw. "Take care of yourself, Jake."

Jake couldn't help moving into the touch, though he drew back quickly. "You too."

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Tor nodded once and turned on his heel, clattering down the wooden steps and striding to the truck not looking back. Jake watched as Kirk pulled away, turning in the drive before driving away.

"Only going to say this once," Elias said behind him. "You're both fucking fools, the pair of you." Elias went into the house, letting the door slam behind him.

Jake watched the truck turn at end of the lane and wondered about the truth in that.

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Part Eight

Chapter Forty-two

“So, where’s Tor?”

Jake glanced at his watch as he leaned on the counter, waiting to see who got to answer.

Not bad, Hound had been in the house less than five minutes, and it was only just a mite over twenty minutes since he and Del had pulled in the yard. Jake had taken one look at the car and known what would happen—he’d just sort of hoped it would take more time.

No one seemed real eager to jump in and answer, and Hound was starting to look around the room, looking at Elias with an eyebrow raised before looking to Jake. Del was trying to look uninterested but he was missing the mark, his face looking more resigned than anything. Jake wondered idly what the hell was up with that before he cleared his throat.

“Not really sure. Gone.” He knew very well that the answer was inadequate and invited more questions, but for some reason he’d not really thought that he’d have to be explaining everything to Hound. He hadn’t honestly expected the hinted at spring trip, and he’d more or less assumed that Del would talk Hound out of stopping by. Jake didn’t really think Del liked him, though it was beyond him why.

“Gone where?” Hound asked, reaching across the table for the bowl of grapes Elias had produced. “Is he gonna be back soon? ‘Cause he was so fucking sure I’d never get the Vega road worthy—I have to rub his nose in it.”

Jake sighed as Elias and Kirk melted into the background. If they’d turned and left the room it might actually have been better, but no. They leaned back and just let him dig himself in.

“Tor doesn’t live here anymore,” he said as evenly as he could manage. Damn, five months after Tor had left, and it still made him sound like he was talking through sand.

Hound froze, his hand hovering over the grapes. “What?”

“He moved out at the beginning of the year.” Jake crossed his arms over his chest and met Hound’s eyes.

“What? Why?” Hound turned a confused look on Elias. “Is he serious? Tor’s gone?”

Elias nodded, but didn’t say anything, just shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Del leaned back in his chair, resting his hand on the back of Hound’s.

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Hound bit his lip and looked at Jake. “Why?” he asked, his voice low like he wanted desperately to know what was going on, but at the same time knew that Jake wouldn’t want to talk about it. The need to know was winning, but Jake had a feeling Hound was working hard to narrow the flood of questions down to a bare minimum.

“It didn’t work out,” Jake said evenly. That was about all he ever said about it. Anyone else would have left it alone. Everyone else *did* leave it alone, but not Hound.

“Fuck that. What happened?” There was an edge to Hound’s voice that Jake had never heard before, and it took him a moment to realize that the man was furious. Beyond angry, he was almost vibrating, gone from happy and relaxed to barely keeping himself still in less than a minute.

Del saw it, too, had maybe even seen it before, and Jake just stood there while Del handled it, an arm around Hound’s shoulders, talking quietly and constantly into his ear.

Jake couldn’t hear the words but he could see how hard Del had his fist clenched, could see how Hound was listening, his own hands flexing and relaxing.

Hound shook his head at something Del said, and looked down. Jake figured it was time to go, and moved away from the counter, tossing a look at Elias. “Gonna go up to do stalls. Or something. I’ll be with the horses.” Setting his hat back on his head he left. No one said anything.

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