Page 5 of Go the Long Way


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"So," Jakob said hesitantly into the silence that had fallen; leaning awkwardly on his cane as he watched Ethan clean up after the class, unsure how to begin.

Smoothing his hands along the muscled planes flanking Ethan's spine, Jakob rucked up the fabric of his shirt, a hunger within him now to feel Ethan's skin against his own. A hunger Ethan seemed more than willing to oblige; breaking their kiss just long enough to rip the garment over his head and help Jakob out of his too, before pulling Jakob in for another kiss…

"So," Ethan agreed, his deep voice packing the short word heavily with meaning as he picked up a chair in each hand and returned them to the nearby tables. "You want anything — "

Ethan rubbing his palms up and down Jakob's trembling thighs, kneading at his hips. Making Jakob's belly quiver as he smoothed his way up Jakob's bare stomach and over his naked chest.

Gasping at the sparks lighting up and down his spine, Jakob leaned into the touch; bowing his back as Ethan urged him down, gripping along Jakob's biceps and shoulders, hand curving around his neck to pull him into a desperately hungry, utterlyfilthykiss…

" — to drink? Marcus would kill me if I tried to use any of his equipment, so coffee's off the list. But throw a couple bills in the tip cup by the register and he won't mind if we snag ourselves an overpriced bottle of water or something from the fridge."

"Hold on to something, darlin'," Ethan whispered into the shell of Jakob's ear, making him shiver as —

"Yeah," Jakob answered as he fished for his wallet. "I'd like — "

Ethan leaned in for a kiss; his weight pressing Jakob into the mattress as he covered Jakob's body with his own; capturing Jakob's mouth with a hunger that was a hundred, a thousand times returned.

His back flexed under Jakob's hands as he worked. Snapping his hips hard with purpose now; angling just — justso…

"Um… Just grab me whatever you're getting," Jakob finished weakly; swallowing as he blinked, staring blankly at the inside of his wallet and wondering absently if he even had any real money still in there. He had gotten so used to just tapping his card these days.

There — the emergency ten Frank had always insisted he should carry on him peeking out from behind an array of loyalty punch cards. Should do well enough to cover the tab and then some.

There were a lot of different seating options in the coffee shop; a trio of extra high stools bellied up to a narrow shelf for the remote worker-type customers; tables for twos and threes and fours; a couch in front of a low table across from a pair of pleather wingbacks for the mommy-and-me crowd.

It was one of these last that Ethan flopped into, setting Jakob's drink on the table before stretching his long legs out in front of him with a groan.

"Long day?" Jakob asked as he carefully sat down on the couch opposite his old friend, resting his cane against the overstuffed arm. He stretched his bad leg out to the side of the table, but drew up his other so he could rest his elbow on it and lean forward, studying Ethan's face.

Not the scars, or the peppering of gray hairs, no. Jakob was too busy cataloging the changes that mattered — noting the smile lines, the worry marks lining his forehead, the bags under his eyes. A thousand and one subtle differences to the best friend he once knew even better than himself, oh so very long ago.

"How are you Ethan,really?" Jakob asked him, his quiet voice still sounding unnaturally loud in the empty and darkened shop.

Ethan sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm — well enough, all things considered. Got a couple students that are being a handful. And there's a bill that looks like it'll be going through that will end up causing the school's art allocation to get slashed.Again. I'm not sure how they expect us to teach the kids anything on the shoestring budget they give teachers as it is. I'm already paying for most of the supplies out of my own pocket; doing gallery sales of my paintings and selling prints online and such. This… I just don't know."

"Sorry to hear that," Jakob said; the curl of worry that had sprung up at Ethan's words warring with a warm feeling of pride that was rapidly spreading through his chest for his friend. "Congratulations though. Gallery sales? Sounds as if you're a pretty accomplished artist."

"Mmm. It's been an adventure, for certain. Gratifying, when it's not aggravating. But… Take the galleries, right? They really like to play up the 'washout footballer savant' angle in the advertising, y'know? Speculating about my career ending is all anyone wants to talk about at the shows; half of them don't accept I was actually injured. I've been asked about everything from drugs to mob connections to being blackmailed by Russian prostitutes, if you can believe it."

"That was when you tore your ACL?"

"You heard about that?" Ethan asked, surprise writ clearly across his face.

"I… might've been following your career,after," Jakob admitted. "And Frank kept me updated on anything I missed."

"You missed a lot."

"Yeah," Jakob sighed.

He could feel the words 'I'm sorry' welling up in his throat, knowing they were a rubber dinghy in a hurricane; notanythinglike enough.

"Congrats on the Super Bowl win,' he said instead lamely. "That was a great game."

"Thanks. Woulda been better if my knee hadn't cost us the second, but… well. Water under the bridge, right? But I mean, that's just it. Nobody's coming for the art itself. And fuck me if I want to discuss inspirations or techniques; they talk to me like I'm a trained monkey. Sure as shit don't want to learn I'm a high school art teacher now. Something about diminishing the 'mystique'," Ethan said with a snort. "More like diminishing the price —andthe gallery's commission. They keep asking me to go along with it, play it up. But you know me, that was never my kind of thing even before…"

Ethan trailed off, gesturing towards his knee.

Jakob nodded, remembering how the school's theater director had begged and pleaded with Ethan to join the class. Back then, he had been the only boy tall enough to make the balcony scene not… "Look like a farce" Jakob thought he remembered was how the teacher had said it at the time.

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