FicWad

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money changing hands. -sigh-
Note: In response to the Live Journal PRSW22 challenge, themes #09, hallways, and #15, peace
Note II: A word to the unwary first: I know I said last chapter that this was to be the last part of a four-chapter arc, right? Well, sorry. My boys had other ideas, so the arc is now officially five chapters long. Hope you guys don't mind!
Note III: That said, this went a little differently than I'd originally planned – all because of something Cmar (beta extraordinaire) said in her review of the last chapter. (So go blame her if you don't like it! Mwahahaha!) Seriously, though, I think the story turned out the better for getting me to think in another direction.  Thanks a lot, lady! (And you can take that any way you like, my friend!) Enjoy, I hope, and please pass by the feedback box on your way out?


More Than Friends And Brothers
Chapter 20: Homecoming Pt. 4


The next few days passed uneventfully. During daytime, Jason was able to help out a lot with the building work because he'd gained enough experience working at his father's company on summer breaks, both as a teenager and college student. Tommy, who could deal with machines well enough but didn't know much about construction, provided extra brawn if necessary, but mainly kept everyone fed and the cooler well-stocked with drinks. Other than that, he took care of materials and in his free time prepared notes for his next research project.

During the nights, they often made love.

At the end of the second week, the outer walls of the extension were framed, the beams for the second floor fitted and the roof structure halfway done. On Monday, however, the building crew didn't show up at the usual time. A phone call to the contractor's office got them the information that a problem with the plans had unexpectedly cropped up and work would resume as quickly as possible. They thought nothing much of it; stuff could happen, and they had more than enough time to be finished until school would start again in September. Instead, they made the most of their unexpected free time and spent Tuesday at the beach, the next hanging out with Tommy's last team who had arranged to meet in Reefside. They returned home late that evening to find a message from their contractor on their answering machine, requesting a meeting for the next morning.

"Huh. Any idea what he might want?" Tommy wondered as he sorted through the mail.

"Nope," Jason said, unconcerned, as he returned from the kitchen where he'd poured drinks for both. "But I guess he'll want to go over the new schedule with us – figuring in the delay, and stuff."

"Hm. He could've done that by email or on the phone, though."

"Yeah – but the guy must have his reasons. We'll know tomorrow."

"Right." Tommy left a message they'd be at the office at ten, then raised a questioning eyebrow at Jason, who handed him a glass of wine with an enigmatic smile.

"What's the Cheshire Cat grin for?"

Jason stared back innocently over the rim of his glass as he sipped the ruby liquid.

"Can't I smile at you because I feel like it?"

Tommy wasn't fooled by the angelic expression. "Sure, but I know that look. You've got something planned … haven't you?"

Jason laughed. "Shit, you busted me. Yes, actually I do."

"Oh? Like what?" Tommy swallowed some of his own wine, savoring the rich taste on his tongue.

His lover crossed the short distance between them and hooked his free hand around Tommy's neck, drawing his head down for a brief kiss. "How does getting you drunk, then having my wicked way with you sound?" he murmured against Tommy's lips. The dark eyes sparkled with promise.

"Pretty good," Tommy replied softly, feeling a familiar horde of butterflies start taking nosedives in his stomach. Whenever Jason adopted that particular tone, was in such a playful mood, he knew he could expect some spectacular sex. He grinned in anticipation. "How about we skip the getting drunk part, though? We don't need the hangover, and you know I'll do anything you want, sober or not."

"Works for me …"

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Um … Santa?"

Tommy burst out laughing at Jason's cheeky answer and gripped his hand, tugging him towards the stairs. "Smartass. Come on then – let's unwrap our presents!"

*

Their good mood, created by a night of heated sex play and the mild aftereffects of a whole bottle of Jason's favorite burgundy they'd shared between them melted like snow in July the next morning, though. Their contractor, Mack Jones, looked rather harried as they entered the office.

"Dr. Oliver, Mr. Scott, I'm sorry I had to call you over." He ran both hands through his hair and sighed, then plunged directly ahead with his bad news. "There's a problem with the plans for your house."

"Why, what's wrong?" Jason asked, puzzled. He'd gone over the plans carefully, made sure that all the permits were in place, had even thoroughly checked the firm's references. All had been in order three weeks ago.

The builder sighed again, looking rather chagrined and angry.

"I told you that the plans were left with me a couple of years ago by another client whose house was practically identical in size, style and layout to yours and decided at the last minute not to use them?"

"Yes, and we told you we didn't mind – it's exactly what we wanted," Tommy said, frowning. "We don't care that they were originally drawn up for someone else."

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. I showed you those plans in good faith – I honestly believed that they were mine to do with as I wanted. Last weekend, I happened to meet my former client's architect and mentioned in passing that I'd found a use for his old plans after all. He seemed kinda surprised, but didn't say a word until I had a call from his office on Monday." He drew a deep breath. "Long story short, the architect never formally released the plans for use by a third party. Turns out he'd been told that the plans got trashed and never was paid – so legally, they're still his. He demands I return them at once, even got an injunction that forbids me to build anything based on them without major alterations. If I don't comply, he's threatening me with a major lawsuit."

"Aw, hell. How long would it take to get the plans changed, then?" Tommy asked once he'd exchanged a dismayed glance with Jason and both had recovered from the initial shock. "And change /how/?"

"Well … different windows, a slightly different floor plan, that sort of thing – nothing too drastic from what you wanted originally," Jones replied. "Thing is, I've already called up a few people yesterday, and the earliest I could expect anything workable would be the end of August. Even so, it'd cost you an extra ten grand or so."

"Oh damn." Stunned, Jason fell back against his seat. He knew enough about the building trade to realize that the contractor's hands were tied, at least for the moment, and that the estimate of weeks before work could resume was fairly accurate. -But dammit, we don't have weeks! What we do have is a house with the back wall ripped out, unfinished construction and a lot of money spent on material that we won't be able to use now, if ever!-

"We can't afford the time it'll take to sort this out," he muttered numbly. "Or the extra money." Indeed, one of the reasons they'd chosen this particular company had been the ready-made plans. If they had to wait, search for a new contractor, they'd lose nearly all their funds – and would still be left for however long with a half-demolished house. With fall coming soon … he shook his head. "Shit."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But we're a small firm – what we can't afford is a major lawsuit and the damage it'd do to our reputation in the trade," the contractor said miserably.

"There must be something you can do," Tommy protested, trying to get over the shock. "You can't just let us sit there! Most of our back wall is missing, the house isn't watertight … and school starts in September. We won't be around during working hours!"

"I'm aware of that, Dr. Oliver. But as I said, I can't do a bloody thing about it right now."

"So you're just going to rip us off?" Tommy grated, getting angry now. "What's that gonna do to your reputation if I report that to the city's building commission? What if we took you to court for breach of contract?"

"I hope you wont. Quite frankly, I know I'd lose either suit filed against me – but I don't have enough free cash to refund you in full or pay for the plans myself. If you force me to – and it would be within your rights – I'd have to sell assets, lay off crew … in other words, I'd go bankrupt. Which would still leave you with an unfinished job." Jones let his words sink in for a moment, then continued in a calmer voice. "Look, I know you're pissed at me; I'd be pissed at me too if I were you. Shit, I am pissed at myself – I should've checked whether the plans were mine to use, not just assumed they were."

"You're right, you should have," Jason interjected quietly, trying to mask his own anger and disappointment. "But that's neither here nor there now – we need to figure out what to do about this mess, and fast."

The contractor sighed. "Yeah. Gentlemen, I don't just want to take your money and run. You'll have to find someone else, so what I'm suggesting is this – I'm only going to charge you for what I've actually spent on the build until now, to cover my own expenses – and I'll leave all the materials I've already bought at the site. Of course I'll return the rest of the money you've already given me." He named a sum. "That's exactly what your project has cost you so far, and I have the receipts to prove it."

Jason and Tommy looked at each other. That meant about half their money gone, construction halted for who knew how long, and a less-than-halfway finished build. What a bind!

"This sucks," Tommy complained.

"Understatement of the century, Tom," Jason murmured. He chewed his lip, thinking hard. How would the owner of Scott Construction have handled the situation? As fairly and sensibly as possible, especially for the client, that's how. -Not that Dad would ever allow his business to get into such a mess to begin with!- "Mr. Jones – the house would have to be sealed against the weather as much as possible by your men. I'd also expect your company to store the materials, free of charge, secured against damage and theft, until we can use them. Plus, we get the materials at cost. If you agree to these terms, we might be persuaded to consider not filing a lawsuit."

"Sure," Jones nodded after a brief hesitation. He was being let off lightly, and knew it. Tommy stared incredulously at Jason.

"Are you mad? We can so win this!"

"Yeah – after we've been tied up in court for ages, had to pay tons of legal fees and meanwhile the house would be left to rot away, unfinished. Never mind the hassle involved. Would you prefer that just to prove we're right, or to cut our losses and try to find the quickest way to get the job done?"

There was no refuting that argument, and Tommy felt his righteous indignation slowly collapse before Jason's realistic assessment. "I hate to admit it, but you're right," he conceded reluctantly. "Okay – under those conditions, I agree not to file charges. Do we have a deal, Jones?"

"We do," the contractor agreed. He hated doing this to the two men who always had been pleasant to work with. "You're being more than fair; I appreciate your understanding. Thanks."

"Yeah, well – guess we should've asked a few more questions before we signed the contract. We're not entirely blameless," Jason shrugged resignedly and stood. "You don't happen to have a recommendation who could take over?"

Jones grinned a little sheepishly. "Afraid not." He shook hands with both men. "I'm not trying to be flip, but … try the regional Yellow Pages," he said as he escorted them to the car. "It's summer – high season for construction work. You'll just have to call around. But if I hear something, I'll send them you way, okay?"

"Sure."

Rather depressed, Jason and Tommy drove home in silence. Back at the house, they went into the yard and stared at what had been the back wall and now was nothing but a concrete slab with a skeleton of wooden struts and flapping tarp.

"Now what?" Tommy muttered despondently.

Jason inhaled deeply once, then squared his shoulders. "Now, we're going to brew some coffee – lots of coffee – and-"

"I'm feeling more the need for a stiff drink."

"Wait with that until we've racked up our phone bill," Jason advised wryly. "We're gonna need our wits about us. But I'll join you in getting drunk once we've scared up a new contractor."

"I'll hold you to that," Tommy sighed. "Come on, let's get started!"

*

However, by the end of the week they were no closer to solving their problem than they'd been after their talk with the contractor. The man hadn't been kidding when he said summer was the busiest time for the trade; all the good, reputable companies were either fully booked until late fall, or their prices were higher than the two could afford. And those companies who were both cheap enough or not busy … well, there usually was a good reason. The last thing they wanted was shoddy workmanship, or worse, damage to the Lair underneath the house. Trying to quell their rising panic, they started looking at construction companies further and further away from Reefside, with very little results, and were beginning to seriously contemplate taking out a loan, when the door bell rang one early afternoon in July.

"I'll get it," Tommy murmured. "Want some more coffee?"

"Please," Jason said distractedly, clicking on yet another link on the website he was currently checking. He didn't even turn when Tommy left the cramped erstwhile guestroom that now housed both their desks since the living area was all but inhabitable.

Clattering down the stairs, Tommy ran a hand through his hair and straightened his shirt; it just might be a student dropping by who wouldn't care about his casual shorts and tee, but just in case Mack Jones had found an available contractor, he wanted to make at least a halfway decent impression. He opened the door.

"Yes? What can I do f-"

The cheerfully polite greeting he'd been going for stuck in his throat when he found himself suddenly face-to-face with John Scott.

Both men froze. John's face, none too friendly to begin with, settled into a stony mask, and Tommy went pale with shock. He blinked once, hardly believing his eyes, but the stocky figure remained where he was – right on his doorstep.

"What the hell are you doing here?!?"

John met his eyes briefly, then pointedly looked past him into the hallway. "I have to talk to him."

Anger welled up in Tommy, as sudden as a tsunami and almost as powerful. With an enormous effort, he controlled his voice – and the impulse to hit Jason's father. -Not that he doesn't have it coming for what he did to Jase!- While it would go a long way to relieving Tommy's feelings toward the man, though, he doubted Jason would agree – and whatever John's unexpected visit meant, Tommy intended to make sure that Jason suffered no more pain.

"'Him' who?" he asked coldly.

John's jaw clenched. "My son," he grated out at last.

"When you can't even say his name?" Tommy sneered. "Yeah, right!"

The older man's dark eyes, so very like Jason's midnight depths, blazed with temper at the defiance he most certainly wasn't used to, but he just balled his fists at his side. "I've come to talk to h- … to Jason, then," he nearly spat. "Get out of the way!"

-Fat chance, jerk!- Instead of giving in to the peremptory demand, Tommy went outside onto the porch and drew the door almost shut behind him, forcing John to retreat a couple of steps.

"Give me one good reason why I should. Or for that matter, why Jase would even want to talk with you!"

"I'm his father – I have every right to-" John never got to finish the sentence, because Tommy suddenly loomed over him, his expression one of barely-controlled fury.

"You have no right, to anything whatsoever – not after the way you treated Jason four years ago, and your attitude towards him lately when his mother was so sick," he hissed. "Yes, you're his father, but you sure haven't been one! Do you have any idea what you've done to him by acting as if he didn't exist anymore? How much pain you've caused your /son/?" Tommy paused for a moment, but John was too stunned by being put on the defensive so unexpectedly to come forth with an answer. "Didn't think so," Tommy laughed humorlessly. "Well, you've hurt him enough – and I'll be damned if I let you hurt him again. Not on my property, not in my house and not as long as I'm alive to protect him from more pain!"

Fleetingly, Tommy was grateful Jason couldn't overhear this last remark; he'd be the first to remind him that he didn't need protection of any kind. -Doesn't matter. It's what I do. Same as he'd do for me.- Besides, it was their house, their property now; while it had long been understood between them that what was one's also belonged to the other, they'd only just formalized things before the building work had begun. After all, Jason was paying for the bulk of the remodeling costs, had been contributing his even share of taxes and such ever since he moved in – it had been the fair, the right thing to do. -But John doesn't need to know that.-

Feeling decidedly off-balance by the younger man's ferocity, the elder Scott choked down a heated reply. He hadn't come to pick a fight. A muscle in his cheek twitched, but he managed to swallow his pride far enough to provide an acceptable explanation.

"I have a message from his mother for Jason." To his credit, he didn't hesitate to use his son's name this time. "That's all I'm here for. Nothing more."

Tommy drew a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. He would've liked nothing better than to send John Scott back where he came from without letting him fulfill his errand, but a message from Helen was something else. If he truly wanted to protect Jason, he didn't dare risk destroying the fragile connection he'd only just reforged with his mother.

"Okay," he said grudgingly, opening the door and gesturing John inside, towards the living area. Half the furniture was covered in dust sheets, the other pushed into corners every which way; not a very welcoming environment, but he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, John wasn't welcome in their house! "Wait here," he muttered. "I'll see whether Jason agrees to see you." He paused to glare at the older man. "If only for his, and your wife's sake. But I swear to God, if you say one single word to Jase that causes him any more pain, you're gonna have to answer to me – and it won't be pretty!" Without another word, he turned and went back upstairs to their shared office, leaving Jason's father standing in the middle of the once-cozy room.

*

John watched Tommy go with mixed feelings. On one hand, he was seriously pissed about the way he'd been treated – who did this punk think he was, to be so disrespectful – even threatening him? But on the other, he felt a grudging respect for him, too, as he unwillingly remembered how his son and his best friend had always stood up for each other ever since they'd met. He even used to like Tommy; where and when had that changed? 'The day Jason chose him over you,' a small voice in his mind said, but John impatiently brushed the insidious reminder aside.

'Admit it, John – if Jason were our daughter, we'd be happy and proud if he'd fallen in love with a man like Tommy!' Helen's words were still ringing in his ears, days after she'd hurled them at him during one of their increasingly frequent arguments, but John still wasn't able to agree. Jason was a man, not a woman! What in blazes made him choose another guy, and not a nice, pretty girl like that Emily he'd dated in his senior year? Or Trini, or Kimberly?

He didn't understand. And despite his wife's pleas to at least try, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to.

Shaking his head as if to clear cobwebs from his brain, John looked around. His builder's mind instantly catalogued and assessed the original layout of the room, as well as the alterations done to it so far. It was obvious to someone with his experience in construction that some major remodeling was going on – and that work had been interrupted for quite some time. Briefly, he wondered why; from the new foundation and what little of the farming had been completed, it looked like a fairly straightforward enlargement.

-Makes sense if they need separate offices; by the look of it, this is your standard two-bedroom, one-bath farmhouse-style family home. They'll probably want two more rooms and an extra bath …-

But he wasn't here to speculate on Jason's living arrangements – especially not with Tommy! Determinedly, John turned away from the construction site to wait for his son, not even acknowledging to himself that in his mind he'd begun to reposition walls, alter layouts and contemplate materials.

*

Jason looked up from the notes he was scribbling as Tommy quietly entered the room, his hands empty. "What, no coffee?"

"I, um, forgot; sorry," Tommy murmured. Jason blinked as the unexpectedly serious tone in his lover's voice registered.

"Now there's something new," he said with a half-smile, "but why now?"

When Tommy didn't react to the small teasing jab, just fiddled with some stuff on his desk and wouldn't really look at him, Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Don't tell me we got even more bad news!"

Tommy shrugged. "Not really," he mumbled. "Unless … it kinda depends."

"Depends on what?" Still no answer. Exasperated, Jason stood and crossed the room. Gripping Tommy's arm, he shook him lightly. "Whatever it is, just spill it, Bro. Things can't get much worse than they already are."

"Wanna bet?" The remark slipped out before Tommy realized it, and he bit his lip. "Uh …"

"Tommy, stop beating around the bush. Whatever it is that's got you in such a dither, it won't get better by sweeping it under the carpet." Jason grinned fleetingly. "Besides, you're making me spout every cliché in the book, and I hate doing that. What's wrong?" His tone might be teasing, but it was clear that he wouldn't rest until he learned the truth. Tommy sighed.

"It's … you have a visitor. Downstairs."

Jason shook his head. "Why didn't you say so right away instead of all this hemming and hawing? It's not as if whoever it is has interrupted us at an, erm, inconvenient moment. Who is it, anyway?"

Halfway to the door already, Jason looked back over his shoulder at his uncharacteristically tense partner. "Are you gonna tell me, or is it supposed to be a surprise?"

"It's a surprise all right," Tommy muttered, then drew a deep breath, knowing that he couldn't delay any longer. Jason would have to deal with this situation, one way or another. "Jase … it's your father."

"What?" Stopping dead in his tracks, Jason paled. "Dad? What's he doing here?"

"He wouldn't say. Only that he wants to talk with you; something about a message from your mother."

Jason gulped down his immediate panic reaction and remained silent for almost a full minute, his mind in an uproar. Helen had phoned just this morning from the rehab clinic to give him her number and her treatment schedule; why would she send his father over with the same information? Belatedly, he remembered that Tommy had been out grocery shopping when the call came and that there hadn't been an opportunity to tell him yet. -No wonder he looks so worried – he's probably afraid for me, bless him!- "Okay," he whispered at last, "I'll go see him." Squaring his shoulders, he sought the concerned brown eyes and attempted to smile. It came out weaker than he'd hoped. "Don't look at me like that, Tom," he murmured. "I'll be fine."

-I should've known Jase wouldn't refuse the opportunity to talk to John at last,- Tommy realized. -Even if there's a chance he might get hurt again.- "Just don't let him get to you too much," was all he said, voice soft. "I'll be right here; call if you need me."

"Will do."

*

On his way downstairs, another thought occurred to Jason. -What if Dad doesn't know about Mom's call? Possible, I guess …- Only one way to find out. Bracing himself inwardly against whatever awaited him, Jason took a minute to watch his father from behind as he stopped in the doorway.

John looked much as he remembered him – still vigorous and strong despite his age as he stared out the window. He hadn't yet noticed Jason's arrival, but as soon as he did, he visibly stiffened before he slowly faced his son.

The temptation to make the first move was near irresistible, but a perverse, strangely satisfying feeling of superiority made Jason stay silent. For once, they were meeting on his ground, in his home, and that fact gave him a confidence he hadn't had before. John could neither kick him out or send him away – and that felt damn good! So Jason just inclined his head briefly in both greeting and question, crossed his arms loosely and waited for his father to speak.

It was hard for John to look at Jason; harder even to meet the steady dark eyes which regarded him so seriously. Try as he might, he could read nothing in his son's stance or expression that might help him gauge his mood. Suppressing the urge to fidget, he returned the coolly assessing glance.

As the two men faced each other, neither saying a word, Jason was suddenly reminded of dozens of similar situations during his childhood and early adolescence. Whenever he'd broken a rule – gotten into playground fights, inadvertently hurt someone because he couldn't yet control his strength or clashed with some bully at school who had been picking on Billy, Kimberly or Trini – until karate had taught him discipline and age had brought maturity, he'd had to endure a lot of staring matches like this until the suspense made him regret he'd ever gotten into trouble. Then, it had mostly been his mother who had managed to turn him into a squirming blob of guilt and remorse by letting him stew; John's style ran more to shouting, banging doors and thumping tables, but Jason had known that whenever his father did fall silent, he'd been in the deepest shit imaginable.

He hid an involuntary smile. Now the tables were turned, and he couldn't help but enjoy the situation a tiny bit. -Hope you like having a taste of your own medicine, Dad!-

At last, John cleared his throat. He drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to Jason. "Your mother wanted you to have this."

When Jason just nodded, but made no move to accept the note, John awkwardly placed it onto a nearby chair. "She's at the rehab clinic now. It's, ah, it's her room number, phone extension and schedule in case you want to contact her."

-But I already have that information,- Jason thought, more than slightly bewildered. -Is that Mom's way of forcing Dad to contact me?- He wouldn't put it past her; it seemed the only logical explanation, but – -Even if that's the case, why would he drive all the way up from Angel Grove to give it to me in person?-

"You could've mailed it," Jason said quietly, his voice wary. He couldn't help the sudden surge of hope that his father's visit meant something other, something more than just an errand on Helen's behalf, but he did not dare give in to it. -Guess I've finally been burned once too often.-

"Yeah, well …" John shrugged and glanced away, but Jason still noticed something that might have been a blush on the lined, ruddy cheeks. However, when John looked at him again, his face seemed unchanged and his mouth was once more set in stern lines. "Anyway, you have it now. That's all."

Jason felt himself blanch with disappointment as hope died once more. Smiling tiredly, he nodded. "In that case, thank you."

Grunting noncommittally, John sidled past him, but stopped unexpectedly when he reached the hallway. Clenching both hands into fists, he shook his head once, then turned around.

"Just answer me one question," he grated, glaring fiercely.

"If I can," Jason replied slowly, a flash of insight, or maybe premonition, telling him what that question would be. He wasn't wrong.

"Why?"

Jason couldn't help it, his own temper got the best of him.

"Now you expect me to explain? I've been waiting four fucking years to hear that word, Dad; why should I do it today?"

He didn't wait for a reply; despite the long wait, or maybe because of it, he felt compelled to answer.

"Never mind," he snorted, controlling himself with an effort. "I'm guessing what you really want to know is, why another man? Or why Tommy?"

John did color up then, acknowledging at last the truth he'd avoided so long. "Either. Both."

There were a million reasons Jason could give, but there was one answer that encompassed them all. He didn't realize, but his eyes softened and his voice dropped into its deepest register as he gave it.

"I love him."

His father stared back at him, disbelief clearly written on his face. "That's all?"

"It's everything," Jason replied quietly. "Everything that matters."

John shook his head. "But he's a /guy/! I don't get it – how, or why …" He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, all but inviting further comment.

-You really should've asked me all that four years ago, Dad.- For a few seconds, Jason was tempted to just walk out, like John had done to him. However, he was not his father. John was asking the questions, incredibly late and not in a very sensitive or even receptive way, yes, but for the first time ever he was making at least a token effort. If only for that, he deserved an answer.

Sighing, Jason ran a hand through his hair. Where to start? -Why not at the beginning …- He drew a deep breath.

"Remember my sophomore year in high school? That's when Tommy moved to Angel Grove." Barely waiting for John's nod, he continued. "We … clicked … right from Day One, almost. I've never before or since become friends with anybody so fast. What was more, Tommy's friendship gave me something I hadn't found with anybody else – not with Billy or Zack, not with Kim and Trini. We were like two halves of a whole; we … completed each other, I guess. Sure, there was a period when not everything went smoothly-" Briefly, Jason reflected back on the power struggles between him and Tommy which Rita had so often tried to exploit, "-but once we really got to know each other, we became incredibly close. Like the brother neither one of us had."

"I remember," John murmured. He recalled feeling pleased that his only son had found such a friend; if he'd known then what would become of this friendship, though … his train of thought was derailed as Jason went on, no longer caught up in the memory.

"Over time, I came to care about him more and more; not just as my best friend, but simply for who he was and what he meant to me. Which was fine and dandy until I realized one day that my feelings were changing into … well … something other than fraternal." He paused, giving his father a brief, rather sheepish smile. "You have no idea how much that threw me at first. I mean, I knew I liked girls. Trust me, I've done my share of sneaking glimpses at Playboy and so on in the locker room, complete with fantasies and wet dreams – the works. Hell, Tommy and I used to fantasize over girls together often enough!"

Jason chuckled as he saw the vaguely relieved look he couldn't hide fast enough in his father's eyes even as John squirmed; he wasn't used to hear his son talk so frankly about sexual matters. "Anyway, the Peace Conference seemed a good way to get away for some time and sort myself out. Get over these weird feelings I'd developed for my best friend, y'know? Only, things didn't work out that way. I never got over them; instead, I found out in Geneva that it wasn't just Tommy – that I could be attracted to guys in general. As well as girls." He sighed. "Luckily, we had a counselor who helped me come to terms with being bisexual; if it hadn't been for her …"

A shrug. Then, "I came home and realized running away had solved nothing. I was right back where I'd started; I would finally have to deal with it somehow. The one thing I feared most was to lose Tommy as my friend if I couldn't get over the way I felt about him. By then, he and Kim had broken up and his relationship with Kat was taking off. And I found Emily, which helped. But when Em and I didn't work out, my feelings for him returned. By then I'd decided, though, that nothing would ever come of it, and thought if I just kept looking, I'd find someone else eventually." Jason noticed the covert glance his father sent his way, interpreted it correctly, and grinned wryly.

"Don't ask. Yeah, I was kinda waiting for the right girl to come along. Another thing that didn't go the way I'd planned … anyway, one day I told Tommy I was bi, because I didn't want to keep something this essential from my best friend – and that kind of backfired on me. He didn't let it faze him at all, was all sympathy and compassion, and that's when I realized that I was still in love with him. I hadn't planned to tell him, ever, but … there was a time, almost ten years ago, when Tommy needed to know someone cared, and I finally admitted to him how I felt. Tommy was totally floored at first, but once he got over the shock …"

As it never failed to do, the memory of that rainy spring night in 2004 made Jason smile. Almost the end of his answer, he inhaled deeply. "Everything changed that night. Tommy said he loved me back. Fully, and unconditionally, the way I loved – still love – him. Tommy, my best friend and almost-brother, loved me."

Midnight-dark eyes met John's stunned gaze with serene certainty. "That was the day I stopped looking for that elusive 'someone', because I knew then I'd already found the person who completed me, in ways no other friend or lover ever had. It simply didn't matter that it was another man – it was /Tommy/. I've never looked back."

*

John listened to the long explanation with mixed feelings. A part of him was analyzing Jason's words, heard the truth and was quietly pleased that his son was secure enough within himself to love where he wanted, to live his life the way he chose. And yet another part, rooted in his strict upbringing, his age and the way he saw the world insisted that it couldn't be true, that this was not the son he'd tried to raise … that everything Jason had tried to tell him was nothing but illusion, a dream.

-A nightmare, more likely!-

"It's unnatural," he muttered stubbornly under his breath, letting the unyielding, stern part of him rule once more.

Jason's mouth twisted in a slightly bitter smile. He'd dreaded such a reaction, but refused to let the fresh hurt incapacitate him.

"Funny you should say that," he murmured. "I happen to think that my relationship with Tommy – friendship and affection that grew into love – is the most natural thing in the world."

"It's the kind of love you say you have that isn't right!"

"To me – no, to us – it's the only kind. There is no right or wrong in the way we feel about each other."

"So what you're saying is that you care more about him than about us, your parents?" John asked grimly.

Jason's breath caught and he flinched, as if he'd just received a blow to his stomach. In a way, he had. Still, he wouldn't flinch from the truth.

"I already told Mom – I love you both. And I love Tommy. Differently, but just as much. Nothing's gonna change that, ever. If you can't accept that, I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, John stared unblinkingly at his son. "Then there's nothing left to say, is there?"

"I guess not." Pain surged once more, only to give way to anger and desperation. He'd laid his heart bare, giving his father the explanation he'd finally asked for, and to what use? -None. He can't, or maybe won't, understand,- Jason observed sadly as the wall of silence John had thrown up four years ago returned with a vengeance. All he could do was watch his father take one last, faintly disdainful look around their half-demolished home before he turned and started walking towards the front door.

However, hope wouldn't die. -Is there no way I can make him reconsider? What else can I possibly say that will make Dad stay? All I need is one last chance, a common ground for us to reconnect – only what is there?- His mind racing, Jason looked around, seeing everything and nothing until some subliminal instinct showed him the one thing that just might work for another second, another minute ... he latched onto it as if to a lifeline, the one area he knew John would reply to honestly and without reservation.

"Can I ask you one question before you leave?" Hopefully, that hadn't sounded as desperate as he felt!

His hand already on the door handle, John glanced back warily. He didn't really want to linger, but couldn't bring himself to ignore Jason, either. Not after he'd driven all the way to Reefside for …what? Answers? Well, he'd already got one, even if it though it wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. Besides, it would be too rude. "What about?" There, that should do; short, impersonal and to the point.

Jason gestured behind him with an apologetic shrug. "I was just wondering … as you can see, we're remodeling; our contractor had to pull out unexpectedly, and we can't seem to find someone else to take over. You don't happen to be able to recommend someone, do you?"

-Oh. That I can deal with.- John refused to admit even to himself that a deeply-buried part of him had hoped for something else – maybe Jason begging him to stay, to reconsider his position. -Not that I would!- He also couldn't decide whether to be proud or disappointed when that plea never came. -Oh, what the hell. Just think of him as another customer.- Letting go of the door, he slowly returned to where they'd stood earlier. "What happened?" he asked matter-of-factly, taking refuge in professionalism.

Trying not to show his relief, Jason gave him a brief rundown on why the house was in such a shambles. "Tommy and I are getting kind of desperate. We've decided to take out a mortgage if we must in case there's no way round hiring an architect, but we need a contractor first."

John nodded. "I see." He hesitated briefly, then came to a decision. "You still have those plans? And the permits?"

"The permits, yes. Of the plans, just copies without specs."

"That should do. I'll need to take a look."

Jason swallowed his surprise. This wasn't quite what he'd had in mind, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Sure. Give me a minute, I'll get them from my desk upstairs."

"Just hurry up; I don't have all day," John said gruffly, and Jason had to grin involuntarily. He'd heard that remark hundreds of times as a child whenever he'd been told not to dawdle on his way to being chauffeured someplace by John. As then, he instantly obeyed.


*


Up in their temporary office, Tommy looked up expectantly when Jason came back in. "Well? Is he gone?"

"Not yet; he's asked to see the building plans," Jason murmured, rummaging through the folder with all the documentation.

"Huh? What for?"

Jason glanced at Tommy, his face a study in sheepishness. "I, uh, I asked Dad if he could recommend another contractor," he admitted.

"You did /what/?!?"

Having found what he was looking for, Jason dropped the folder back onto his desk and faced his lover. "Dad is in the trade, remember?"

"Yes, but – after everything he did to you? Don't tell me you had a big reconciliation in the last fifteen minutes and now everything is violins and roses!"

"It's not," Jason sighed, perching on the edge of his desk. Tommy deserved an explanation; John would just have to wait. "In fact, he was just about to leave when I asked him." Briefly, he summarized what had transpired between him and his father, to which Tommy listened with growing anger.

"So he's just as much of a pigheaded jerk as ever," he growled, shaking his head. "You must be out of your mind to trust him!"

Jason stared at his feet for a long minute before he met the stormy brown eyes. "Tom … Dad has always been active in the California Builders' Association; if he can't help us, nobody can. He knows people, he can point us in the right direction at least … and he never let it matter whether he liked a client or not. I'm banking on his professional pride that he can at least treat me like he would any other person in this." The low voice spoke calmly enough, but to someone who knew Jason as well as Tommy, the underlying note of sad resignation was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispered into the short dark hair as he went over to draw Jason into a comforting hug. "I'm just so damned angry at your dad, for showing up out of the blue, for hurting you, for disappointing you again today … I don't know if I can ever forgive him. And I really don't understand how you can get past all the shit he dumped on you!"

"He's my father," Jason said simply, letting the warmth of Tommy's arms soothe some of his undeniably bruised feelings. "I trust him … as a professional, anyway."

"And as your dad?"

He swallowed. "I … I'd like to think I can," he murmured. "If it were a matter of life and death, maybe … I think he'd be there for me."

"Bro, just because you're so disgustingly noble at times doesn't mean he'd be the same if it concerned you," Tommy sighed, thinking of how John had rejected Jason so recently when it had been a life-and-death matter for Helen. But he refrained from mentioning it; Jason probably could do without the reminder.

"I know. But Tom … is it so wrong that I want to take what little I can get for once?"

"N-no," Tommy conceded grudgingly.

"Besides, you know as well as I do that we're up shit creek without a paddle. We need someone to help, and why not him?"

Tommy could have mentioned any number of reasons why not, among them the little fact that he didn't want John Scott involved in anything to do with their home. However, he couldn't afford not to consider two things – first, they did need help, fast, and second, Jason didn't need extra aggravation from him. For that alone, he kept every unkind thought about John to himself, no matter how well-deserved they might be.

"I just don't like him being around," he muttered, then kissed Jason lightly on the lips. "But even I know I'm being unreasonable. Go ahead, show him the plans; if your dad can help us out by unearthing a builder, I may possibly forget he's a jerk in another century or so."

"Thanks, Bro."

"Don't thank me. I still don't trust your father not to screw us over – but I do trust /you/," he cut off Jason's protest with a slight smile. "If you say he'll do right, then it's okay with me."

Jason smiled, touched his forehead briefly to Tommy's cheek and picked up his folder. "Right. Back in a minute."

*

"As you can see, we want the living room slightly larger so we can use a divider or something to screen off the desks, another bedroom and bath above it and put down a deck outside," Jason explained to his father as they went over the plans. "All the building materials are kept at our previous contractor's place; we just need to alter the layout and the outward appearance to make it different enough so that the architect is satisfied."

John nodded slowly. "Hmm, yeah. Shouldn't be too hard, especially as your permits allow some leeway."

"That's a relief – but who could do it? We need to have it finished by September, when school starts," Jason asked, keeping his demeanor as business-like as he could. It was hard, but at the same time easier than he'd expected; while he never had been inclined to join his father's business, he had enjoyed the planning process whenever John had poured over a new design at home. And when that design had been for a future house for Jason, they had truly bonded as adults, not just father and son. Jason stifled a nostalgic sigh; that was unlikely to come to pass now. Well, as long as they both stayed out of any emotional minefields, they should be able to remain neutrally polite.

John straightened from the kitchen table where they'd spread the drawings. His mind was churning with ideas – this was the kind of project he loved doing – but he hid it well. "There's someone I know who might do; he's just started his own company and won't be completely booked yet."

"Is he good enough to do the job, though?"

"Yes. A former apprentice who used to work for me until recently."

"That's recommendation enough," Jason said sincerely. Every man trained by his father and who stayed on his workforce for any length of time was more than competent, and hopefully a new business owner would cut them a small deal on the cost. "Do you have his number on you?"

"No. I'll pass on yours; if he's willing to take the job, he can call you back." Jason attempted to thank him, but John only shrugged, said his good-byes and left without a backwards glance. Sighing, Jason rolled up the plans once more and went to report to Tommy.

*

On Friday morning, the phone rang. Jason picked it up along with the coffee pot on his way to the front porch where Tommy was waiting with breakfast. "Scott-Oliver residence."

"Jason Scott?"

"Speaking."

"It's Paul Rosicky; I used to work for Scott Construction …"

Jason's slightly puzzled expression cleared as he connected the name with a face. "Oh, right – second crew chief on the Bertini build back in 2007, right?" He'd helped out a few times on those weekends when he wasn't seeing Tommy and several employees at once had fallen ill that year and had gotten to know the man. He'd be a great replacement for Mack Jones if they could come to an agreement.

"Yup, that's me. John said to call you about some remodeling project?"

"Uh huh." Briefly, he outlined what needed to be done. "Could you do the work?"

"I'd have to take a look myself; are you home tonight? I can get off early and be in Reefside by seven."

Tommy nodded vigorously – the phone was on speaker – and so Jason agreed, quickly giving their address and directions. They had planned to go to a movie, but this was more important; a simple call would change their ticket reservations to the next day. "See you tonight, Paul."

"Right. Seeya."

"God, I hope this works out," Tommy remarked as he poured coffee for both of them. "We've lost two weeks already."

"Yeah. But Paul is a good guy; from what I remember, he's fast, efficient and very good. No wonder he's struck out on his own."

*

Shortly after seven, a truck pulled up at the house and a forty-something man in jeans, work boots and a tight shirt climbed out. He grinned at Jason and Tommy and after perfunctory handshakes clapped his hands once.

"Okay, folks, show me the way. It's a long drive back, and if I decide I can do this, I'd like to get started as soon as possible."

"That's music in our ears," Tommy laughed, immediately liking Rosicky's easy manner. "Come on, let me give you the fifty-cent tour."

An hour later, the three men sat at the kitchen table, sandwiches and cold drinks at hand. Paul had taken endless measurements and notes and was now drawing on a legal pad with quick pencil strokes. "See here – if we make the living room L-shaped, you get extra room for storage or whatever. It'll also take the bathroom out of the new bedroom, giving you more space upstairs, and do as a windbreak for your terrace. Better yet, since we have to run the plumbing through this wall anyway, why not add a downstairs toilet?"

"Sounds good," Jason said, impressed. "But wouldn't the new wall still look much the same from outside? The exterior needs to be altered, too."

"If we replace the French windows with sliding glass doors, it will look different enough, trust me. Plus, you'd open up the whole back wall of your living room, giving you a great view of the forest."

"Well, yeah, but that's hardly in keeping with the style of rest of the house," Tommy frowned.

Rosicky waved his concern aside. "It'll be fine once the cladding is painted to match. How about we forget about the awning and add some kind of roof over the terrace for extra shade? With some kind of pillars to support it, like this –" A new sheet, more drawing, and the two could see where the contractor was heading. "You'll hardly see a difference."

"I like it," Jason said at last. "Great ideas, Paul."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed. "But what about the windows and other material in storage? We already paid for that …"

"Not a problem. I'll take your stuff, use it for another build and check the cost against what I need to buy new. Should come out to the same amount more or less."

It seemed almost too perfect to be true. Even the financial aspect was working out without sending them too deep into debt, as Paul planned to specialize in property development, considered the work a perfect transition job from pure construction and was offering to cut them a deal if they agreed to let him use pictures of the finished job in his portfolio. Jason and Tommy exchanged a long glance, then made their decision.

"Okay, as far as we're concerned you can have the job. Now for the sixty-four thousand dollar question, though – will you take it?"

Rosicky grinned and leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased. "Is the Pope Catholic? I've been dying to get my hands on a project like this since I started. – Now, it'll be too expensive to house a full crew so far away from my base in Angel Grove, but if you could get me a few high school kids for grunt work? I'll obviously use specialists for electrics, plastering and so on, but for such a tight schedule, I'm mainly gonna need more brawn."

Jason shrugged. "Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Yeah," Tommy replied. "Not all of our students have summer jobs; we can make a few calls. How soon would you need them?"

"How does a week from Monday sound to you?"

"Perfect," Jason exclaimed, feeling relief wash over him. The sooner they got started, the better. "We can help, too; you know I used to work with Dad during school breaks."

For the first time, Rosicky faltered. "Um, well … actually, I'd prefer it if you didn't," he muttered. "No offense, Jason, I know you can find your way around a construction site, but … in my mind, you're still the boss's son, and …" He trailed off, coloring slightly with what looked like embarrassment.

Tommy grinned, understanding the man's dilemma. "And you don't want someone looking over your shoulder, huh? Not that we'd report on you back to anyone, but I know exactly how you feel. The first time I had to set up a lab project all by myself as a grad student, I couldn't wait for the professor to leave so I could blow up a few test tubes without instant critique!"

Paul nodded. "Exactly. I'll try to stay away from the blowing up bit, but would you mind leaving me to it? The kids'll breathe easier too, without their teachers around."

A little disappointed, Jason nodded. "Sure." He'd been looking forward to being involved in the build, to see the changes to their house as they happened. But considering that Tommy wasn't quite as enthusiastic on working construction, he ultimately was sympathetic to the rather reasonable request. What was more, since he already knew and trusted the man, it would be okay to leave him alone on their property. -Seems it was worth it to get a recommendation from Dad, despite Tommy's reservations!- So Jason did the only thing he could, which was to accept the situation gracefully.

"Mmm. How long would you need, Paul?"

"Three weeks, a month at most. Depends on how fast I can get those sliding doors delivered."

Jason raised an eyebrow at Tommy. "Camping trip?"

Several weeks alone together, hiking, fishing, being out in the wilds and sharing a tent, compared to noise, dust, a crew of strangers underfoot all day and lots of hard work? A no-brainer if there ever was one. Two pairs of brown eyes began to sparkle, and both Tommy and Jason started to grin.

"You've got a deal," Tommy murmured, tearing himself with difficulty away from sudden images of Jason's hands and mouth on him under a canopy of trees and/or stars. "What about a contract?"

"I'll draw one up and bring it for you to sign on Monday morning," Rosicky promised, repeating the terms they'd agreed on one more time before packing up his notes. "Thanks for dinner – I'll see you next week!" Five minutes later, he was gone, and the two men breathed a sigh of profound relief. Things were finally looking up again!

*

"Last day today," Jason commented idly as they hiked up into the mountains.

"Uh huh. It'll be good to go home again." Tommy smiled and handed Jason the water bottle.

"Yeah." Gulping down the still-cool liquid, Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slid the now-empty bottle into the clip at his belt. "I don't know about you, but it was kinda weird having to take this vacation."

"I know what you mean." Tommy grunted and heaved himself up a small ledge; this path was a little more strenuous than they'd reckoned with. "I mean, it's been fun and all – almost like our first year, remember? When I wasn't comfortable about staying at your or my place?"

"Oh yeah. Never quite got why, but man, was I glad when you came to your senses," Jason laughed, following his lover. "But you're right, it did feel similar."

"Mm. Anyway, I guess it's one thing to go camping because we want to, but another because someone told us to. I tell you, Bro, I was relieved when Paul called last night, saying he'll be done day after tomorrow."

"Me, too. I can't wait to see what he's done."

"Yeah. I just hope it wasn't a mistake to basically give him carte blanche about altering the plans if he wants to."

"Hey, what can he realistically do? Make a wall a foot shorter or longer, but not much else," Jason waved Tommy's concern aside. "I'm sure it'll be fine; I would've said something if I hadn't known him and trusted him to do a good job."

"Right." Tommy still sounded slightly worried, but Jason gave him a friendly cuff on the arm.

"Relax. It'll be okay," he repeated, then changed the subject back to their imminent return. "I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to sleeping in a motel tomorrow night!"

"Mmm. You mean, having real beds, a bathroom right next door and breakfast in the lobby? Me, too!"

The two grinned at each other. They liked camping out, but over the years had learned to appreciate the creature comforts of proper beds, clean bed linens, hot showers in the morning and breakfasts that didn't consist of PBJ sandwiches and instant coffee. Some of the campgrounds had inns with restaurants close by, but as they'd opted to go for the National Parks in Northern California and Utah, the facilities were fairly basic more often than not at most sites. It was going to be a long drive home, but one overnight stay should be enough.

They climbed steadily up, following a lesser-traveled route to a plateau from where they hoped to have a good view of the valley below. As the path grew steeper, they stopped talking, saving their breath for the exercise. At last, the path widened and took a right turn. Following the bend, the men walked a few yards until they came to a lonely pine tree, stopping under the meager shade it provided.

"I gotta say one thing, Bro," Tommy puffed. "It's been a long time since we've been this fit!"

"The pitfalls of good living," Jason chuckled, shrugging out of his backpack. "Well, at least we've both lost a little weight." A faint flutter teased his insides as he pictured Tommy's once-more well-defined washboard abs. He knew that his own torso looked nearly as sculpted as when he'd been at college after three weeks of outdoor living and daily exertion, and that Tommy very much appreciated the re-transformation. -It's not that we've grown fat, but … we simply don't have to stay in fighting trim anymore, and if we're not careful, it shows. Also, maybe we like our after-dinner wine a little too much.- He smiled ruefully, then shook off thoughts of the inevitable changes growing older brought and turned his attention towards the spectacular scenery.

"Wow."

"Yeah," Tommy murmured, gripping the rail guarding the platform. "I hadn't expected the view to be this clear. That mountain range over there has to be at least a hundred miles off!"

The sheer majesty of the landscape, the clear air and silence made them fall silent, and for a while Jason and Tommy lost themselves in the beauty around them. As a bank of clouds chased across the sky, though, momentarily dimming the brilliance of the day, Jason managed to shake off the spell nature had cast over them.

"I'm gonna take some pictures," he said quietly. "That gorge over there … if the zoom works right and I can catch the perfect angle, we could have a print blown up and hang it on the wall." Tommy just nodded, his attention still fixed on the horizon. Jason usually found solace in sitting on a beach and watching the waves roll in; for Tommy, it was the harsh landscape and challenge of the mountains that refreshed his spirit, and he didn't want to lose a single second.

*

When he returned, his camera loaded with some hopefully spectacular shots, Jason noticed that Tommy was no longer quite as enraptured as he'd been before. He'd moved from the edge of the path back into what little shadow there was, his eyes following a bird of prey soaring regally through the clear sky. Jason smiled to himself as he packed the camera; Tommy was half-perched against the mossy rock, legs casually spread for balance, and he'd unbuttoned his shirt halfway to his navel to let the light breeze cool his skin. Except for his now-short hair, he very much resembled the boy who once had brought Jason into the foothills near Angel Grove, to introduce his best friend to his brother and great-uncle who lived on the Reservation there. And as always, thinking of David, Sam and the Reservation brought back the memory of the first time they'd had full intercourse.

Briefly, Jason mourned the disappearance of the long chestnut locks; it would be such a pleasure to bury his hands in them when he buried himself in Tommy's eager mouth, or to have them trail across his own skin while his lover licked his way down his spine! He swallowed a small moan as his cock twitched inadvertently. This was hardly the place to think of sex; they'd brought no lube, and there was barely room to stand, much less lie down. Once they returned to their tent, though … -Just wait 'til we get back, Bro; then all bets are off!-

Hoisting himself up to sit on a rocky ledge next to Tommy, Jason told his overactive libido to take a break until a better time, undid his own shirt and started munching on an apple while he waited for his lover to come out of his reverie. When he finally did, there still was a faraway look in the chocolate eyes.

"Man, whenever I see a raptor fly like that, I miss the Falcon," Tommy murmured.

"You think that was a falcon?"

"No – the wing shape was different. Some kind of hawk, I think."

Jason handed Tommy the second apple he'd brought and opened the remaining bottle of water to wash the rest of his own fruit down. He drank half of it, passed it to Tommy and while Tommy finished it off, caught another glimpse of the hawk, winging away into the forest. "You know … of all the Powers you held and I didn't, I really envy you the Ninja Powers," he mused. "From what you and the others told me, they must've been awesome."

"They were," Tommy agreed. "Really special. Mainly because they drew on something within us, not just some external source."

"Was that why you had the extra suits?"

"Uh huh. They didn't shield us like our regular uniforms and helmets could, but enhanced other abilities. We just used the Power Coins to manifest, or maybe harness would be a better word, whatever Ninjor saw in us."

"Cool." It seemed as if Jason was about to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he looked out over the valley, his expression turning wistful, and Tommy placed a hand on his knee. He had an inkling what had caused the sudden mood shift, and for once was just feeling mellow enough to talk about it; because he still felt guilty for losing the Ninjazords to Rito Revolto, he generally shied away from discussing that period of his Ranger career.

"What's on your mind, Jase?"

Jason sighed. "Nothing much, really … it's just, I've sometimes wondered what kind of spirit animal I would've had, had I still been on the team," he admitted softly, then grinned fleetingly. "You know, whether I'd gotten a cool animal, like you or Billy, or something more, um … exotic."

Tommy nodded, understanding. There had been a few surprises, what with Adam getting the Frog and Aisha the Bear, but he felt confident enough to make a guess at Jason's. "I can't be sure, of course, but knowing you as I do … I'd say either an eagle, or a lion," he murmured. "King of all animals, bird of kings – each represents a different aspect of who and what you are, but either would've suited you." He smiled gently when Jason blushed at the inherent praise. "Trust me, they do!"

"You're just saying that because you love me," Jason protested half-heartedly, but his eyes glowed with gratitude and pleasure.

"Nope. I'm saying that because I happen to believe it's true."

"Tom …" More than a little choked up, Jason slipped an arm around the lean shoulders and bent forwards to kiss Tommy. "Thanks," he whispered against the warm lips before covering them with his own. Tommy's mouth opened willingly to the questing tongue, and Jason deepened the kiss, saying without words what he could not express otherwise.

It was one of those perfect moments that some couples experience from time to time, where they were seemingly the only people in the world; both men lost themselves in the tender exchange, breathing in each other's scent, tasting each other's flesh, giving and receiving love.

Tommy's tongue dancing with his drove out all awareness of their surroundings; the heady sensation was so intense yet gentle that Jason couldn't help himself – his free hand wandered to Tommy's neck, drawing him closer, then slowly slipped inside the open shirt. His fingers skimmed across the sharp collarbone, circled the hollow at the base of his throat and gradually inched lower to the smooth, hairless chest. He could feel his lover's mouth curve against his in a slight smile, traced it with the tip of his tongue and saw the brown eyes close as he delved once more into the moist heat. Jason let his own lids drift shut, relying on his other senses to gauge what Tommy liked and wanted. There were faint ripples on the bronzed skin as he brushed his hand down the flat stomach, the familiar scent of Tommy's aftershave grew more pronounced as he eased off momentarily to nip at the clinging lips, and the soft hiss and moan coming from Tommy's throat told him his instinct was dead on as he once more wandered upwards and across one sensitive nipple which instantly swelled and puckered at the teasing touch.

Without breaking their kiss, Tommy turned slightly and threaded his arms around Jason's waist; the ledge he was sitting on gave Jason a small height advantage for once, and he found himself in the perfect position to start his own exploration of the muscular body. Like Jason, he kept his touch gentle and undemanding, but despite that he could feel himself harden. A quick brush across his lover's groin proved that Jason was as affected by the situation as he was. Tommy couldn't help another low, pleased moan when Jason slowly slid to his feet, directly into his arms, and their bodies touched chest to chest.

That agile tongue which often could drive him mad with lust with just the tiniest lick withdrew from his mouth at last.

"We're out in the open," Jason murmured against the moist, eager lips even as he pressed his cloth-covered erection against Tommy's and carefully pinched and rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"I know. Don't care," Tommy whispered back, shuddering at the not-pain on his chest and eased his hand into the waistband of Jason's jeans to cup a tight buttock. "Do you?"

"Not now, no." Jason was already hunting for Tommy's belt buckle and soon had freed the button. Punctuating each word with more kisses and licks, he took hold of the zipper tab and pulled. "No supplies, though."

"So what? We used to be able to do without," Tommy smiled while holding Jason in position against him with one arm and opening the straining fly with the other.

"So we did." Smiling himself, Jason pushed the now-open pants down, past Tommy's buttcheeks, and began to work on his briefs. Soon, they were bunched at the underswell of the tight ass he loved so much, lifting the furred balls up to cradle the base of the already throbbing cock. Barely a minute later, he found himself in much the same state.

Jason shivered as a faint breeze teased the swollen head of his erection, but forgot all about it when experienced fingers wrapped themselves around his hard length. "Mmm." He, too, filled his palm with a silk-skinned column of flesh and stroked once carefully, from root to tip.

"Aw, man." Tommy moaned and copied the motion, making his lover squirm excitedly in his grasp. Resting his behind against the sun-warmed rock for stability, he stole another kiss, then rested his forehead against Jason's, looking down between their bodies, to where they held their cocks side by side. Jason's eyes were fixed on their bobbing erections as well, and soon they were pumping each other in perfect sync. For once, there was no rush to completion, no urgent coaxing the other into a frenzy of lust – instead, the two men kept it slow and gentle, lost to everything but the sensations their skilled hands and the occasional brushing of swollen cockheads evoked. Jason slipped his free hand around Tommy's neck to make sure he kept watching, murmuring soft words of encouragement and love as both started to breathe more heavily and their chests began to glisten with a light sheen of sweat.

Needing more, Tommy wrapped his left arm around Jason's waist, drawing his hips close enough so that their groins touched and their genitals were pressed tightly together. Shifting, Jason smoothly aligned his penis with Tommy's and loosened his hold so that he could caress both lengths simultaneously. He was rewarded with a breathless chuckle when Tommy made room for the large, warm hand and slid lower to cradle both furry sacs.

"Oh yeah …" Smiling, Jason glanced briefly up into the brown eyes so near his own. The intent look in them was as arousing as what their hands were doing, and he redoubled his efforts, stroking a little harder and faster.

"God, yes," Tommy hissed, intensifying his own efforts around their seed-heavy balls. "Finish it, Jase," he begged/commanded roughly at last, pulling him even closer. "Make us cooommme …" With a shuddering moan, Tommy fell over the edge and climaxed, spilling his essence over the busily-pumping fingers. The added slickness was exactly what Jason needed and he came barely a minute after his lover, his ecstatic groan swallowed by a greedy mouth.

Giddy and sated, they could not help but laugh with delight as the last spasms subsided and they managed to catch their breaths. Suddenly, a loud rustle from somewhere quite close startled them out of their post-orgasmic lassitude. They froze, eyes snapping open in alarm. Tense, Tommy slowly turned his head and looked over his shoulder, fully expecting a tourist, or worse a forest ranger, to have caught them /in flagrante/. Thankfully, they were still alone – and finally he detected a couple of chipmunks sitting only a couple of feet away, their bright, beady eyes focused alertly on the two men.

"Bro, I think we had an audience," Tommy chuckled softly, guiding Jason's initially wary glance to the side where the small animals sat. One was busily washing its paws, but the other tilted its head as if it wanted to say 'are you done yet?'. The dark eyes widened, then crinkled in amusement as Jason relaxed, satisfied that the chipmunks were the only observers they'd had.

"Looks like it," he murmured back, grinning slightly. "Think we gave Chip 'n' Dale here a good enough show?"

"Could be. Hey, maybe we, uh, inspired the little guys!"

"Either that, or a couple of lady chipmunks will be very happy tonight," Jason chuckled.

They watched as the tiny creatures scampered away at last, then shared another kiss before easing reluctantly apart to order their clothing.

"This is gonna itch like hell on the way back," Jason remarked ruefully as he wiped his sticky palm on his briefs before tugging them back into place, then fastened his jeans. "What's worse, we can't even shower together at the campground."

"Uh huh. Worth it, though – wasn't it?"

"Hell, yeah."

Tommy buttoned up his shirt and tucked it into his pants. "I wish I could leave this off, but I'd rather sweat than get sunburned," he grumbled, only half-seriously. "And our tent really isn't big enough for one of your massages – or rather, what they usually lead to," he added with a small leer.

"I didn't hear you complaining the last time."

"I'd never complain about anything you'd want to do with me, Bro," Tommy said warmly and drew his lover into his arms for one last, deep kiss. "To be continued at the motel tomorrow night," he promised huskily.

"I'll hold you to that," Jason murmured back, then gave him a playful shove. "Now behave, or we'll never make it back. In case you've forgotten, it's a three-hour hike – and the downhill path is steeper than uphill, if we really want to explore the valley."

At that moment, excited voices could be heard around the bend they'd turned earlier, and a couple of pre-teen boys skidded to a halt only a few yards away. "Mom, Dad, come on!" one of them shouted excitedly. "It looks awesome from up here!" Almost immediately, a couple of about Jason and Tommy's age appeared on the plateau, a pretty teenage girl in tow. The mother sent an apologetic glance towards the two men before reining in her excited offspring.

Jason and Tommy just smiled and nodded, collected their packs and sidled past the family, oblivious to the wistful sigh the teenager sent after them. Once they were out of earshot, Jason quirked a wry grin at his lover.

"That was close. If they'd arrived just five minutes sooner …"

"… the chipmunks wouldn't have been the only ones to have got an eyeful," Tommy finished. "I know, and yeah, it was stupid to start something on a public path. But I'm not sorry we did," he said.

"Neither am I," Jason soothed. "Just let's make sure next time not to have another close call like this, okay?"

"Next time?" Tommy inquired, his voice suddenly hoarse as they carefully picked their way down the less-well-prepared path. He gasped when Jason drew him under an overhang and kissed him soundly.

"Yes, next time," he confirmed, midnight eyes sparkling. "After all, if I can use toys on you when we're having sex, then I can deal with doing it kinda in public. Your kink isn't any better or worse than mine. Same rules, though – not every time, and only as long as we're both comfortable with what the other wants to do. So if we do get to have an audience, let's keep it to chipmunks and the like, please. Okay?"

"More than okay. Thanks, Jase."

"Love you, too, Tom. Now come on, let's get down this heap of rock and back to civilization."

"Right behind you, Bro." His inflection must've alerted Jason to the fact that Tommy wasn't just referring to the order in which they did their descent; at the plainly questioning look Jason gave him, Tommy laughed and shrugged. "Hey, just enjoying the view," he said innocently, then spoiled the effect by admitting, "So I like watching your ass move. Sue me. Imagining what I'm gonna do with it tomorrow night beats admiring the landscape any day."

Groaning and laughing, Jason shook his head and started to walk again, not dignifying that claim with a comment. -It's gonna be nothing compared to what I'm gonna do to your ass tonight, Bro – and I'll prove that the tent is big enough for anything, too!-



To Be Continued …