What Remains (32 page)

He scissored his fingers, stretching Jodi out. Jodi gasped and moaned again, before it was muffled by the pillow he shoved his face into. “Rupert,
please
.”

Rupert played Jodi for as long as he could stand, resisting the urge to touch himself, or grind his dick into Jodi’s back, but as Jodi writhed and groaned, clearly on the point of release, suddenly, he couldn’t wait. He needed this as much as Jodi.

And he needed it now.

He withdrew his fingers and aligned his body with Jodi’s. Then he pushed forward, easing himself inside Jodi, inch by inch, following the natural cues of Jodi’s body like they’d done this just yesterday, and the day before that, and before that. Like they’d never stopped. Jodi’s body consumed him, squeezing him tight. Rupert’s eyes rolled, but he fought for control, watching Jodi, listening to every breath and moan, searching for any sign of distress.

Jodi let out a pained gasp. Rupert froze and squeezed Jodi’s hand. “Want to stop?”

“No . . . God, no. I just need a minute.”

Rupert waited, his face buried in Jodi’s neck, counting the speeding thrum of Jodi’s pulse beneath his lips. Jodi remained silent and still for so long that Rupert wondered if this was it, if it was over until the next time Jodi told him the moment was right to try again. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world.

Then Jodi moved, so slightly at first Rupert thought he’d imagined it. He pushed his hips back again and again, circling in a slow rhythm that almost had Rupert coming before they’d got started. “Jesus. That feels amazing.”

“Yeah.” Jodi released a shaky breath. “Like that, like that. Fuck me, Rupert. I’m okay, I promise.”

Rupert lifted Jodi’s leg and thrust gently. Jodi threw his head back. Rupert cupped his face and kissed his throat, feeling Jodi’s near-silent moan against his lips. God, he remembered this. The sensation of Jodi falling apart in his arms, entangled in a warm web of love and desire, nothing in the world but each other.

He scraped Jodi’s neck with his teeth. Withdrew from Jodi, then pushed back in, harder than before. Jodi cried out and punched the bed. He arched his spine, opening himself more to Rupert. “Shit, yeah.”

Rupert groaned. He’d been so afraid of hurting Jodi or sending them both careening twenty steps back, he hadn’t considered how to handle the crazy heat sweeping over him, even hotter than he could remember. He shifted, pushing Jodi onto his front, pressing his face into the pillow, fucking him harder and harder, until his hips were slapping Jodi’s with so much force that the bed hit the wall.

“I’m going to come.” Jodi gripped the headboard and raised himself up, defying the weight of Rupert pinning him down. “Oh God, oh God, I’m going to come.”

Then Jodi yelled out, screaming, long and loud, like he used to. Rupert thrust again, once, twice, three times, then coherent thought abandoned him, and he came hard, collapsing on Jodi’s back, absorbing every jolt and judder of Jodi beneath him.

For a long moment, he was lost in that white, misty place where there was nothing but the release of his dick still pulsing inside Jodi, the wet warmth of their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, and the smell of sex hanging over them like a haze of all that was right with the world.

Then reality set in, and not much changed. He pushed Jodi’s damp hair away from his face. “Okay?”

Jodi grunted. “I’m fucked.”

“Sounds about right. Can you move?”

“Not with you sitting on top of me.”

Rupert carefully withdrew and rolled away.

Jodi caught his hand. “Don’t go too far. I’m not done with you yet.”

Rupert chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Maybe. Can you help me up?”

Rupert helped Jodi roll over and sit up, then he sat back on his heels and took in Jodi’s flushed cheeks and dazed grin. “You really are okay, aren’t you?”

“Rupert, I’m happy. I don’t know what else there is.”

There was nothing else. Rupert found the duvet that had somehow ended up on the floor and the toy box caught his eye. He lifted the lid and retrieved the probe. “This was our favourite. We used it all the time.”

“I thought it looked interesting.”

Jodi smirked, but it was overtaken by a yawn. Rupert chuckled and tossed the probe in the box. He laid the duvet over Jodi, then drifted to the bathroom to clean up. On the way back, the door to Jodi’s office called to him. He padded inside and scanned the shelves until he found the photo album Jodi had asked about in the hospital.
There it is.
Despite Jodi’s request, they’d yet to get round to looking at it.

He took it into the bedroom and held it out. “I’d forgotten about this. You always said there was no point having physical albums anymore when everything was stored on our phones and computers. We only have the photos in the living room up because Indie made us.”

“That’s sad . . . and I was wrong. I wish I’d seen this a long time ago.” Jodi took the album and flipped to a photo of him and Rupert lying on the grass in Hyde Park, enjoying a hazy summer afternoon of London sun. “There’s no way I could’ve denied this.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jodi glanced up. “Don’t be. It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“I guess so.”

“You know so.” Jodi held out his hand and beckoned Rupert closer, then tugged him into the bed to lie beside him. “This whole thing has been a nightmare for both of us, but I’m happy now, Rupe, I really am.”

“Then I’m happy too. I still don’t understand, though.”

Jodi shrugged. “Neither do I, but I don’t care. I reckon there will always be a part of my brain out there, waiting for me to catch up, but I’m in no hurry to find it. Here and now, you and me, it’s enough for me.”

It made as much sense as anything ever had. Rupert pulled Jodi close and kissed his head. “It’s more than enough, boyo. It’s everything.”

Indie clutched Jodi’s hand and pressed her face to the glass window. “Can we have the white one?”

Jodi followed her mesmerised gaze and regretfully shook his head. “No kittens, remember? Daddy said.”

“Daddy said no pets, ever, actually.”

She had a point, but Jodi was hoping Rupert hadn’t truly meant the words he’d uttered so forcefully when Jodi had asked if he could bring Indie to the rescue home half a mile from the flat. “I’m sure he’ll change his mind if we find the right one. A grown-up cat who doesn’t make a mess.”

“But I don’t know which one to choose,” she wailed. “There’s so many. I want them all.”

“Okay, how about we go and get a drink and have a think about it?”

It took a while to coax Indie from the kitten ward of the rescue home, but eventually they found themselves in the café, Indie drinking a lurid pink Slush Puppie that would make Rupert’s hair curl when he found out about it, and Jodi fumbling with the cap on a bottle of water.

Indie took the bottle from him and removed the cap. “Jodi?”

“Yeah?”

“Will your hands always shake?”

He resisted the urge to sit on his offending hands. He’d grown so used to the random tremors that he often didn’t notice them, but Indie did. Indie saw everything. “Only when I’m trying to make them do something they’ve forgotten how to do.”

“Ah.” She nodded sagely. “Have your eyes forgotten how to see your computer too?”

He chuckled. “A little bit, but it’s all right, because I’ve got me some Clark Kent glasses to help.”

“Daddy likes those glasses.”

“Does he?”

“Yes, I heard him telling Aunt Sophie they make him want to—”

“Okaaaay.” He cut her off before she could repeat something she was far too young to be saying. “Back to business. Are you sure you want a cat? We could get a dog, maybe?”

She shook her head. “Dogs smell.”

“So do cats when they live indoors with a litter tray.”

“You won’t let it smell,” she said confidently. “You make even Daddy’s socks smell nice.”

It was nice of her to say, though Jodi couldn’t remember a time Rupert had ever smelt anything less than amazing. And, in a world where so much had apparently changed, Indie’s faith in his age-old cleaning obsession was oddly reassuring. “So, a cat it is. You’re going to have to choose one, you know. Or let one choose you.”

“How would I do that?”

Good question. “How about we go back inside and ask the nice lady if we can sit with a couple? See if any of them take a liking to you?”

“But not the kittens?”

“Not the kittens.”

They finished their drinks and went back inside. A friendly member of staff showed them to a “socialisation” room, which was attached to one of the many compartments that held multiple cats.

“We’re running out of room,” the woman explained. “Ideally, they’d all have their own pod.”

It was on the tip of Jodi’s tongue to ask what would happen when the centre reached full capacity, but he stopped himself just in time, remembering Indie’s innocent ears.

“What happens when you’re full?” Indie asked.

Jodi cringed and tried to catch the woman’s eye, but she ignored him and fixed Indie with a steady gaze. “Some of the older animals, and the ones with health problems that are least likely to be adopted, will be put to sleep.”

Indie’s eyes widened. “You mean, they’ll die?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Jodi glared at the woman, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but Indie slid into his lap before he could speak.

“We have to get a disabled one, Jodi. Can we? Can we, please?”

It broke Jodi’s heart that Indie had spent the last year—like they all had—learning what being disabled truly meant—the limitations and restrictions, the pain and heartache—even though most folk would look at Jodi and have no idea that he woke up some mornings unable to remember how to dress himself.

Don’t be so dramatic.
Okay, so shit like that was rare these days, but there was no denying Jodi’s accident had irrevocably changed the lives of everyone he loved, Indie included.

The woman opened the plastic window separating them from the cats, and Indie instantly lost interest in anything Jodi had to say, her gaze fixed on the window. For a long moment, nothing happened, then, as fate would have it, a three-legged cat hopped through the gap straight into Indie’s reaching arms, and Jodi was more certain than he’d ever been of anything that Rupert was going to
kill
him.

Rupert stared at the black bundle of fur making itself at home on top of the fridge. “What the bejesus is that?”

“It’s a cat,” Jodi deadpanned, staring at Rupert like he was the world’s biggest idiot.

“That’s not a cat.”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s got no legs.”

“It’s got three.”

“Okay, so it’s half a cat. What the hell is it doing in here?”

Jodi rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“So I can tell you you’re a dickhead without any fucking loopholes.”

“Aw, come on now.” Jodi slid off his stool and came to Rupert’s side. “You’re not really cross.”

“Aren’t I?” Rupert fought to maintain his glare as Jodi slipped his arms around Rupert’s waist and brushed a featherlight kiss to his cheek. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I told you—and Indie—that if you brought a cat back here, I was off to live at the station.”

“Didn’t mean it, though, did you?”

Of course he hadn’t. He’d known full well how Indie and Jodi’s trip to the animal shelter a week ago would end. “When did it get here? Don’t tell me it’s been here all week and I haven’t noticed?”

Jodi chuckled. “No. The woman from Apple Wood came by yesterday to inspect the flat, and I picked the cat up this morning. It took you ten seconds to spot Forrest when you came home.”

“Forrest?”

“Forrest Stump.”

“Forrest Stump?” Dear God. Rupert had craved Jodi’s ridiculous sense of humour while it had been missing in action, and somehow he’d forgotten how terrible it could be. “You called half a cat Forrest Stump?”

“It’s not half a cat.”

“It ain’t a whole one.”

“Would you say that if she had half a brain?”

“What? No, of course I wouldn’t . . .” The penny dropped even as Jodi’s arms slackened from their loose embrace. “Jodi—”

“Don’t,” Jodi said. “It’s okay, honest. I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but that’s the point, isn’t it? Forrest had been at Apple Wood for six months. Her time was up next week, and you know what would’ve happened, don’t you?”