Page 172 of Playing By Ear

“Aye, but not the cancer.” Clutching one of the large yellow tea mugs, Jamie stared straight ahead as he spoke. “Not to be dramatic, but…I think…outside of Shakespeare plays and soap operas, I’ve got the most fucked-up family on the planet.”

“Can’t really argue, but what prompted this epiphany?”

Jamie let go of the mug and folded his hands together. “He admitted it. I asked Dad about killing Ritchie, and it turns out I wasn’t just a stupid kid with a wild imagination.”

Perry’s whole body tensed. Was Jamie in danger now his father knew he knew? Had he fled here for his own safety?

“I always knew,” Jamie continued. “I heard it happen. But lately I’d started, I dunno, hoping?”

“That’s only natural.”

“It wasn’t until he admitted it that I realized I’d come to doubt myself. Without that doubt, this wouldn’t feel like…” He pressed both fists against his chest, then knocked on his breastbone in a quickening rhythm. “Why am I shocked? Perry, why am I shocked?”

“Because it’s a shocking thing.” Perry took Jamie’s hands to still them. “It’s the most awful thing in the world.”

Jamie lowered his gaze, his lashes gleaming in the kitchen’s big light. “When I telt him that I was there in that wardrobe, it was like he shrank in half. Like all his diminishing these past weeks suddenly sped up.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? Everything between us was, well, maybe not great, but basically good. We’ve been connecting. Seeing each other, seeing and hearing for real.”

“You needed the truth,” Perry said. “You deserved the truth.”

Jamie opened his mouth, then shut it. “You know, you’re right,” he said, as though it was a revelation.

“I’m always right. It’s my best feature.”

Jamie finally looked at him. “I can name a hundred better features.” He kissed Perry’s cheek, then rested his own against it. “Thanks for existing.”

“My pleasure.” Perry breathed in deep, then fought to suppress a cough. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but would you fancy a shower?”

“That bad?” Jamie sniffed his shirt collar. “Ooft. Aye, it’s been a few days. But only if you join me.”

They shed their clothes in matching heaps inside the bathroom door, then stepped into the wet, steaming space they’d shared so many times before and after sex.

Perry picked up the shampoo bottle. “Just stand there and let me see to you.”

With a weary smile, Jamie closed his eyes and tilted his head back into the stream of hot water. As Perry began to work the shampoo into his hair, Jamie said, “I’ve missed being alone with you.”

“You’re not the only one.” Sharing a mattress on the floor with a gangster in the next room had made for purely chaste nights.

Perry dragged his fingertips against Jamie’s scalp, provoking a deep groan. The shower barely fit the two of them, so he felt it when Jamie’s hardening cock nudged his thigh.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jamie’s throat. Though the stray drop of shampoo tasted bitter, the skin beneath was sweet as ever.

“I’ll rinse my hair while you wash the rest of me,” Jamie said. “The sooner we finish here…”

“Actually, finishing here sounds brilliant.” With a dollop of shower gel, Perry soaped up his hands. Then he reached down and around to spread the suds over the curves of Jamie’s arse, squeezing and kneading the taut muscles there.

“Christ…” Jamie urged himself against Perry. “I swear I didn’t come here for this. I just needed to see you.”

“But as long as you’re here.” Perry slipped a hand between them, clasped Jamie’s shaft, and gave it one long, firm stroke.

“Oh.” Jamie’s knees buckled, then straightened again as he thrust into Perry’s fist. “Yes. God, yes.”

The pleading in Jamie’s tone turned Perry rock hard. He pressed Jamie back against the shower wall to give them both stability. As he shifted Jamie’s velvety foreskin up and down, faster and faster, he matched each thrust with his own, sliding his cock over the smooth ridge of Jamie’s hip.

From outside the shower came an electronic noise, likely Jamie’s phone. They ignored it.