Second Shot - 44. Chapter 44: Pop's Will

Walking down the hall together, Jason reached out for Peter's hand. Fingers entwined, they slowed when they reached Peter's room.

Peter twisted, so Jason had his back to the wall. "That was really nice. You never told me your Grandfather played violin. He's really good."

"Pop used to play for us when we were younger. None of us were very good at music so we never got to the point we could play with him at holidays. KJ playing with him is the highlight of his day, I think."

"KJ was amazing." Peter leaned in until their lips met. He didn't linger long, but it was enough to arouse Jason.

"So was the guy turning his pages." Jason inched forward, but Peter backed away playfully. A smile and wink later, Peter closed the space for a longer kiss. "He looked so happy with you helping. You might have replaced me as his favorite."

"No chance." Pulling on their still joined hand, Peter led them into his room. "Your cousin really loves you. Aunt Karen said he looks up to you like his big brother."

"He's a good kid. He bothers Michele and Meredith, even Dean to a degree, but I don't mind."

Jason watched Peter take off his tie and lay it over the valet in the room. "You sure we can't be a bit naughty? I mean this was the room you used to talk dirty to me from."

Peter arched both brows making Jason blush. "Me? I seem to recall you did most of the talking."

"True." Moving closer, Peter reach for Jason's tie. "But you were very good at doing what I said."

Smiling, he let Peter slowly pull the tie through his collar. "I suppose we could be a little bad."

"Just a little?" Peter kissed him softly a few times. "I mean, I'm not sure I can stop once you get me in a mood."

Maybe this was a bad idea. His grandparents trusted them to abide by their rules, betraying their faith felt wrong. "Um . . . well, I don't know Pete, we gave them our word."

"True." Another kiss and he stepped back holding out Jason's tie. "They're every bit as nice as you said. I would hate to repay their hospitality by making them wish they never trusted us."

Draping the tie around his neck, Jason sat on the bed. "Oh well, it's just one night."

Peter kicked off his shoes and rolled onto the large bed. Gently he tugged Jason over so his head rested in Peter's lap. The feel of Peter's hand running softly through his hair had Jason relaxed and drowsy.

"Today was great, Uncle Ray excepted." Peter's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Is he always like that?"

"You mean an asshole?" Content to sit and let Peter stroke his hair, Jason soon realized Peter was expecting a bit more of an answer. He opened his eyes and was greeted by a pair of brown eyes and a smile. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't very responsive."

"It was accurate at least."

They both snickered. "True." Jason turned to his right, wrapped his left arm around Peter and snuggled closer. "Yeah, Uncle Ray's kind of a jerk. He and Dad never really got on well. Dad thinks he's lazy and has an over blown sense of entitlement."

"You mean he expects your grandparents to just give him money? What a shock."

"Picked up on that did you?" Peering up, he winked. "I don't know all of it, but Dad gave me a summary. Basically Pop told Uncle Ray they would help him, but he needed to move into a smaller house and get a job."

"I like your grandfather, Jase, and think he's right to make those conditions, but neither of those are exactly easy to do right now."

As much as he didn't want to cut his uncle any slack, Jason knew Peter was right. "Yeah, but Dad said something about Pop buying Uncle Ray a smaller house and dealing with the loss on his bigger one."

"Why make him move if they need to buy him a new house?"

Jason rolled over so he could lie next to Peter. Taking a deep breath, he reached over for Peter's hand. "This is going to take a bit to explain. I kinda didn't want to go into all this, but it will help.

"Long story, but here's the basics. My great grandfathers on both sides set up trust funds for my Mom, Aunt Karen and Uncle Ray; kinda like Pop and Gram did for me and the other grandkids. When each of them graduated college, Pop and Gram added to their trust. From what I gather, they were told not to expect anything else."

"Really?" Peter's shock surprised Jason.

"Yeah, I mean, you heard Michele, fifty-million dollars is more than enough to last a life time, no?"

Peter laughed. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I might be able to squeak by on that, but it'll be hard."

"Exactly." Jason relaxed a bit now that Peter didn't seem uneasy talking about his family's money. "Now Uncle Dan comes from an equally wealthy family and has his own trust. Aunt Dolores and Dad came from average middle class families; ones that don't provide trust funds for their kids or grandkids.

"In addition, both Dad and Uncle Dan started successful businesses and would be well-to-do even without a trust fund. Only Uncle Ray doesn't work."

"Why doesn't that surprise me."

"Yeah, well, despite having no additional income, Uncle Ray lives large. His house is at least three times the size of my parents'. Aunt Karen's house is about the same as ours. Uncle Ray bought a Bentley, everyone else bought something less expensive. You get the idea. The one who makes the least, spends the most, by a lot. Pop has never been happy that Uncle Ray doesn't have a job. Pop worked for thirty years before he retired, he expected his children to work, or their spouses in the case of Mom and Aunt Karen."

"The picture is starting to come into focus." Peter began massaging Jason's hand. "I can see why your grandfather wants him to down size and get a job."

"And my Uncle is resisting because he's always busted on my mom about her tiny house, or her cheap cars. Used to annoy the shit out my parents. I heard he did the same to Aunt Karen."

Peter snorted. "Yeah I bet. Must be hugely embarrassing to have to move into a McMansion or drive a cheap, fifty-thousand dollar car."

Jason snorted. "Yup. And, if he does what Pop asks, he has to eat crow for all the comments he made to his sisters and their families."

"Good for your grandparents on knocking him down a few pegs."

"I suppose. He certainly deserves it." Jason burrowed into Peter's chest hoping it was clear he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Content and happy, Jason reflected how well the day went, Uncle Ray excluded. Christmas Night, in his grandparent's house, with his boyfriend, this was the best Christmas.

Wrapping his arms around Jason, Peter sighed as he pressed himself back against the pillows. Jason smiled at the sound. The familiar feel and smell of his partner relaxed him further. Three times he snapped his eyes open when he felt himself dosing off. Finally he didn't catch himself in time.

When he woke, he and Peter were still in the same position. From his breathing, Jason could tell Peter was sleeping. Checking the room, he was glad they left the door open. If anyone walked by, they wouldn't have seen anything scandalous.

He gently nudged his sleeping boyfriend. "Peter."

"Huh?"

"We fell asleep." He stretched his back before kissing Peter on the cheek. "I should go to my room, or else we'll both be tired tomorrow."

Peter pulled him closer, groaning softly. "I wish you could stay here. Sleeping without you next to me sucks."

Torn between doing what he wanted and what he should, Jason hesitated. If they left the door open and kept their clothes on, would that be wrong? They could always say they fell asleep without meaning to.

Peter must have sensed his indecision. "Go." He gave Jason a lingering kiss. "If you don't, we'll do something we both know we shouldn't. And that isn't the impression I want to make on your grandparents."

Stealing one last kiss, Jason got off the bed. "Night, Pete."

**

Standing in the back row, Peter focused his gaze on the beige open top car in front of him. He ran his hand over the polished hood.

"Jason tells me some of your cars are one of a kind?"

"Indeed." Raymond Henry moved toward the sleek car Peter was examining. "For example, this one you are admiring. An Auburn 852 Speedster. Built in 1936, it was the first year for the 852 and the last year Auburn made cars before dissolving. It was built in what many consider to be the “golden age” of automotive manufacturing and design; the time right before World War Two.

"Car buying was very different then. You would have to make two decisions; what model car and what type of body you wanted in the model you chose."

Much as he tried, Jason couldn't suppress a smile as he watch Peter soak up every word from his grandfather. Pop knew his stuff when it came to his cars. Jason tried to learn as much as he could, but didn't have the time to devote to catch up to his grandfather.

"You mean they didn't just sell you a car from the lot?" Peter never looked up from the car.

"You could, but that took half the fun out of getting a new car." Peter missed the smile Raymond gave him. "Back then car manufacturers, especially high-end names like Bugatti, Delahaye, Auburn and Cadillac, often built a chassis complete with running gear. These were the guts of the car. Onto these frames they would add that which made it visually appealing."

Like it was an old familiar friend, Raymond ran his hand over the smooth hood. He opened the door and motioned for Peter to sit down.

"The designs for the outside of these beautiful cars were created by a dedicated auto body shop, or coach builder. Each coach builder offered their own unique styles that customers could customize before it would be attached to a chassis. These body styles were called, 'coach works.' A buyer could choose from different coach works for an available design. In some rare cases, if the person had the means, he could have a completely unique design made to fit their preferred builder’s chassis. The result would be a one of kind automobile, custom made for the buyer.

"As you can imagine, because there were so few of these built, they are a rarity. Should a buyer wish to own one now, it does not come cheaply."

Raymond led his young guests around the climate controlled building, dutifully answering any questions they, mostly Peter, put to him. Finally after more than an hour, they stopped in front of his last addition; the Austin Healey he and Jason purchased over the summer.

"I assume Jason told how I came to own this spiffy little car."

Snickering at his grandfather's choice of words, Jason nodded.

"He did, sir." He flashed Jason a smile. "I also understand he made you spend more than you planned."

His grandfather seemed lost in a good memory before he smiled at Jason. "It reminded us both of a similar car I used to own. Worth every penny we spent on it and more."

"We, Pop?" Jason raised both eyebrows at his grandfather. "If memory serves me, you paid for the car. You even paid for the snacks that day."

Raymond gripped his grandson's shoulder. "Perhaps, but I listened to you when you told me to bid higher."

Jason got a wink from the older man. He turned to find Peter grinning at him. Slightly embarrassed, Jason climbed into the passenger seat.

"Have you had it out yet, Pop?" Jason hadn't ridden it, and he wanted to know if it handled well.

"Twice," Raymond answered. "I'm waiting for you to come around, so we can take it out together."

"Pete and I will come by this spring."

"Good." Raymond nodded. "Then you can take out whichever ones you like. I'd offer to let you drive them now, but these were all built before we started to put all those chemicals on the road to deal with snow and ice. They would be damaged if taken out now."

Peter nodded, looking only slightly disappointed. "This spring for sure."

They lingered in the car for a few more minutes. Careful not to leave marks, they closed the doors slowly.

"Before you two leave, Jason, your grandmother and I would like to talk to you." Turning to Peter, he added, "You may join us, Peter. No doubt Jason will tell you what we discuss. This way you can hear it firsthand."

Jason laughed nervously, putting on his coat to cover his embarrassment. Peter gave him a questioning look when Jason handed him his coat. A small shrug was his only answer; he really didn't know what his grandparents wanted.

Raymond stood by a side door. "You two go ahead, I need to speak to Alan before I leave."

Without waiting for an answer, he collected his coat and left the main garage.

Walking back toward the house, Jason mulled over what his grandparents wanted. Probably something to do with what upset his uncle. But then they were letting Peter sit in, so it was unlikely they would discuss their wills in front of him.

It wasn't until he felt Peter's hand that he realized how far they'd walked in silence. Two steps later, Peter's left shoulder bumped into him, nearly knocking him over. Only their joined hands kept him on his feet. When he looked over to see what happened, Peter was grinning playfully. Seeing Peter so happy made his smile despite his unease.

"Who's Alan?"

Without looking over, Jason said, "Their driver."

"What's wrong? You look so serious."

Trying to smile, he shrugged. "Just wondering what they want to talk about."

Resuming their walk, Peter squeezed his hand. "How bad can it be? It can't be something awful if they invited me to join you."

"That's true." Unless it's about money, Jason left out. His grandparents didn't know how weird Peter got around money, specifically Jason's family's money. It was too late to warn them, and even it if wasn't, what would he tell them?

Waiting for the gates to open seemed to take an eternity. Silent and sullen, Peter's mood change bothered Jason. Without asking, he was sure he knew the issue. Finally they were cleared to leave. Retracing their tracks from the day before, he didn't disturb Peter's thoughts until they were on the main road.

"What's wrong, Pete?"

"Nothing."

The words lacked conviction, as if spoken by one lost in thought. Peter kept his eye focused on the road ahead. Definitely something wrong, Jason thought.

Did he press the issue? If it was about what happened, he wasn't sure how to fix it. But if he let it go, it would only get worse.

"Pete," his voice was softer and sadder than he meant. "Something's bugging you, I can tell."

Finally he turned toward Jason. "Sorry Jase. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset, just worried." Slowing down for a light, his shifting created a pause in their conversation. "We had such a good trip and now . . . I don't know, you're not happy."

"Sorry," he repeated. "I'm . . . I'm just being stupid."

Peter's face was unreadable when he glanced over. "It's the car, isn't it?

"Yeah, kinda."

Jason didn't need to hear the words to confirm his suspicions. Peter's resigned tone spoke volumes.

"Jase, I'm sorry, it's not your fault, really. I just can't help thinking about what different worlds we come from."

Cursing himself for not waiting, Jason searched for a place to turn off. This couldn't wait and he needed Peter to see how sincere he was when he spoke. A minute of silence later he turned into a 7-11.

Peter scanned the lot quickly then turned toward Jason. "Why'd you stop here?"

Unbuckling his belt, he turned to his right. "We need to talk about this and I don't think I can drive all the way back to school without dealing with it."

Peter took Jason's hand and began to rub it. "I'm fine, really."

"You may be fine, but you're clearly thinking about something. Tell me what's on your mind, please?"

Twice Peter opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. Each time Jason struggled to keep quiet, to let Peter speak when he was ready. Peter took a deep breath and held it for a moment.

"Okay, here it is. Your grandparents just gave you a fifty-five thousands dollar Austin Healey for a Christmas gift. AND your grandfather is leaving you not only his car collection, but an additional trust fund worth - God only knows many millions more - to cover the up keep, maintenance and insurance of the current cars and leave some left over for you to buy more if you want."

Jason waited to hear if there was more before he spoke. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about that . . ."

"Jase." Peter put a hand on Jason's cheek. "You don't need to apologize. I know you never asked them for this, or anything. This is my issue, not yours. I sound like a broken record, always saying that, but it's true."

"Why is this such an issue for you?" It took Jason a moment to realize how that came out. "I didn't mean that to sound harsh, I just want to know how I can make you feel more comfortable around me."

Peter turned his head so their eyes no longer met. His lips grew tight as he drew a deep breath and leaned his head back.

"Is it something I'm doing?" The need to know made his question sound almost like a plea.

"No." The answer was quick and decisive. Shaking his head, he met Jason's anxious stare. "You're nothing like Hayden, or any of the other rich jerks I know. It has to do with my wanting to be equal, to carry my weight. . . "

"Pete, c'mon. We practically live at your place, have since we met. You do all the cooking, most of the cleaning and you always buy food, either with or without me. If anything, I'm the dead weight in this relationship."

"Hardly," Peter smiled. "What I mean is you're not a drag on me in any way. We've talked about this before. There's no way I can ever match what your family can give you."

Jason reached across, pulling Peter closer. "Actually, there is no way they can match what you've given me. You've helped me so much this past year."

After a brief kiss, Peter pulled back, his face scrunched up. Not the reaction Jason expected.

"Right." He nodded thoughtfully. "And what do I have left to offer now?"

The response, completely unexpected, struck Jason like a slap. How could he think he had nothing to contribute? Every day Peter made him a better person, how did he not know that? "What does that mean?"

"Just what it sounds like." He looked off into the distance again. "When we met, you were in the closet, afraid to tell your family, friends, your teammates. You never had a serious boyfriend, never tried to be romantic, never moved beyond the spoiled rich jock you were in high school. You're so different from when I met you. You're still the sweet, cute, fun guy, but now you're older, more confident, more secure with who you really are. Where I took care of you before, now you don't need me. Like I said, what do I have to offer anymore?"

Like a hand tearing at his heart, Peter's words stunned Jason into silence. Once he was sure his heart was still working, he realized he needed to say something. Even if Peter wasn't asking for it, Jason needed to reassure him, and fast.

"Pete, I still need you. Just now, listening to you, I saw an image of you leaving me and my heart stopped. Why do you need to do more than just love me? That's all I want. Isn't that enough?"

"Of course it is." Peter smiled finally. "But that's what I mean. You've changed. You don't rely on me anymore. I guess I miss that."

"Yes, I do, all the time." He took Peter's hands back into his. "I rely on you for so much. Knowing you love me makes me able to face almost anything. If I'm all the things you say, it's only because I have you and you love me. Without that, I don't know what I would be."

"You would be the same, strong, confident person that everyone wants."

"But no one can have me, except you. Pete . . ." He fumbled for the right words, sure he would mess it up anyway. " . . . Last night, even going to my room alone, I couldn't stop thinking how this was the best Christmas ever. We're together, with my family, doing all the things my family does at Christmas, and everyone was fine."

"Except Uncle Ray." Peter smirked. "Just saying."

"You do that a lot you know? Try to derail me when I'm trying to be serious."

"Sorry. I do it when you make me uncomfortable, telling me how much I mean to you. I guess I keep waiting for the shoe to drop, and you tell me you found someone better, cuter, richer."

Jason flinched. "Really?"

That was all he could manage. How could Peter ever think he would do that?

"No." Peter quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. God, I'm so stupid today."

Jason watched as Peter struggled with whatever he was thinking. Finally he sighed.

"I guess I still don't think I'm good enough for you. Which is totally fucked up, I know, because everything, and I mean everything, you do tells me how much you love me."

"How . . . how can you think that?" It probably came out sounding more hurt than he intended. What hurt most was how little Peter thought of himself.

"Sorry, Jason. That makes you sound so shallow and that is the furthest thing from what I wanted to say."

Seeing his emotions so twisted, Jason felt almost as helpless as when he sat next to the hospital bed waiting for Peter to wake up. What should he say? Should he say anything? Would whatever he said make it worse? Right now all Jason wanted was to let Peter inside his head and heart to see just how much he love him. When words failed, he leaned over, pulling Peter into a hug.

"Pete . . . I don't know what to say. I want . . . I wish I could make you feel better. God, if you only knew how much I love you, you wouldn't worry about me leaving you." Mad at himself, Jason stopped to collect his thoughts. What he wanted was to tell Peter not to worry. Instead he sounded like he was berating Peter for not seeing how he felt.

"I know you do," Peter whispered. "Really, I do. It's . . . it's just . . . I don't know."

Jason knew, but kept silent. It was still the same issue, money. No matter what he did - or didn't do - his family's money was still there, rearing its head now and then to ruin things.

Peter gave him a smiled that looked forced, like doing it hurt. "Sorry, Jase."

"Don't worry about it." He wanted to smack himself. That was all he could think to say? "We'll figure it out."

"Yeah." Peter didn't look or sound convinced.