The Choices We Make - 6. The Truth

Sitting in their English AP class, Trish leaned toward Lynette and whispered, "You know, if Brody and Jace really don't want to go to prom, they should still do something fun."

"I totally agree."

"Maybe we should make some suggestions."

"Such as?"

"Clubbing!"

Lynette frowned. "But we do that all the time. And it's not very romantic when you're being crushed in a crowd."

"You're right. Bad idea."

"What about the lake?"

"Which lake?"

"Does it matter? Oh, forget that. It's romantic, sure, but not private. Especially on a weekend."

"You're right," Trish admitted in a defeated tone. Then: "Oh! How about a camping trip?"

"Jace and camping?"

Both girls giggled quietly.

Trish shook her head. "Not a pretty picture."

Their expressions epitomized deep thought as Trish chewed on her pen and Lynette stared at the ceiling, each pondering ideas for the boys.

"A road trip?" Lynette finally asked, her voice doubtful.

"Could be. But road trips depend on the weather, you know? Besides, there has to be a destination, otherwise they're in the car all weekend and that's—Wait! I got it." Looking pleased as punch Trish offered, "Say they go rent a cabin somewhere, be out in the country like, have a relaxing weekend, just the two of them. It would be just as romantic as the prom if they went away for the weekend. You know, secluded, private, alone."

Though Lynette's face beamed with excitement, Trish's features fell. Her shoulders sagged and she shook her head, negating her own suggestion. "No, I don't think so. That'd be too complicated. It'd look suspicious with them going by themselves. Plus the cost, making sure they didn't get caught... No, that would be a big mess, too hard to pull off. But there must be something..."

Trish glanced at Lynette and realized the seed had been planted. Her friend's eyes were distant and thoughtful. Though she'd dismissed her own suggestion, she felt confident Lynette would give it due consideration and come up with a way to make it work. And that was precisely what Trish wanted.

* * * * *

"I still think you guys should go stag. Nobody'd think twice about it."

"James, we've discussed this before," Jace said dryly before tossing a chicken nugget into his mouth.

Lynette put her hand over her boyfriend's mouth when he started to protest. "Don't mind him." She passed a meaningful look from Brody to Darren before staring at James with a shut-the-hell-up-already stare. "You know how jocks can be."

"Hey!" Darren complained.

Brody eyed Lynette with offense belied by the grin he wore. Then he said, "We're not going to prom. We've talked about it and we've decided."

"Sorry, guys," Jace added.

Darren glanced at Brody, perhaps for a moment too long, then shrugged. "We'd really like you guys to go. We could all go as a group." Again he glanced at Brody.

A chicken nugget sailed across the table and smacked him in the side of the head. Darren jerked around and met stern expressions from James and Lynette.

"What?" Brody inquired.

"Nothing," James replied too quickly before promptly redirecting the conversation. "Jace, do you have a few minutes after school to go over our physics assignment with me? I'm not sure I completely understood what Mr. Nielsen wanted."

Jace nodded. "Sure."

"Whiskey tango foxtrot, Darren?" Trish hissed across the table.

His gaze snapped to hers. "What?"

She used her eyes to gesture to Brody before giving a brief little shake of her head and scowling at the football jock. "You're being obvious."

"Oh."

* * * * *

"Your mom is the reason I don't go over there much anymore."

"I know," Jace replied through a frustrated grimace. "It just sucks. Lara likes you. The twins love you to death. Even Dad likes you."

"It's no big deal."

"Yes it is, Brody!" Jace said hotly. "It's a very big deal. She's so unfair. I don't get what her problem is."

Brody spit mouthwash into the sink and rinsed it as he glanced through the bathroom door at Jace splayed out on the bed, gloriously naked, hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling. He never tired of the visual. Despite Jace's opinion to the contrary, Brody thought his nerdy boyfriend was the hottest thing on two legs, lean and lithe with slight definition, little pink nipples, that delicious treasure trail that started at his belly button. Yeah, he didn't think there was anything about Jace that wasn't hot as hell.

He shut off the bathroom light and wandered into the large open space that defined the garage apartment. His bed was tucked into one corner with windows on two sides. The outside door separated the bed from the small kitchenette. The inside door leading into the house stood beside the bathroom door, and beside that was a large closet with sliding doors. A small dining table and chairs rested next to the kitchenette. In the far corner was a living space with couch; coffee table; bookshelves stacked with works of fiction and knickknacks; and a short credenza with four lateral drawers, two on each side, each full of movies or linens or music or odds and ends. A large flat-screen television hung on the wall above the credenza with a stereo below it, Bose speakers hidden around the room for the full theater effect.

Making his way to the bed, Brody shrugged as he settled beside Jace, one foot on the floor and the other leg curled against his boyfriend's hip. He rested a hand on the other boy's thigh, squeezed lightly, gave a sympathetic nod.

"I don't know, Jace. I'd like to fix it, whatever it is, but I can't because I don't understand it. That's not the point—"

"Yes it is!"

"Hey," Brody said softly, rubbing his hand up and down Jace's leg, gentle squeezes punctuating the calming caress, "don't get worked up about it."

With a stern scowl Jace asked, "Why don't you complain about it? You have every right to complain! Damn it, Brody, you need to learn how to complain like the rest of humanity."

"What does it accomplish? Does complaining fix anything? Does it solve problems? Does it change minds or salve wounds or balm hurt emotions?"

Jace rested a hand on Brody's leg, his fingers tracing patterns of goosebumps on the skin. "That's not the point," he growled.

"I'm just not a complainer, Jace. Besides, would it really help? Your mom doesn't like me, that's a fact, and she won't change her mind based on whether or not I bitch and moan about it."

"I know. It's just sometimes I wish you'd complain about something, especially this, so I'd know it bothered you as much as it does me."

Brody leaned forward, pushing his legs out, slipping his body over Jace's and settling beside him, pulling his boyfriend against him and wrapping his arms around him.

"Do you think she's figured us out and that's why she doesn't like me?" he pondered.

Jace stiffened, a quiet gasp stealing his response. Then: "Oh hell, do you think?"

"I asked first."

Jace's breath whooshed out in a contemplative sigh tinged with worry. He gave the question some thought before saying, "I simply don't know, Brody. It's possible. Our friends figured it out, our brothers and sisters figured it out, so why not our parents?"

"You think my parents know?"

Jace nodded, realized Brody couldn't see it, added words to the gesture. "If I had to venture a guess, I'd say they have. But you know them better than I do..."

The jock shrugged before rolling Jace over against him, wrapping his arms around the man he loved more than life itself. He kissed the top of his boyfriend's head. "If they know, they don't care."

"I guess..."

The boys fell silent then, each pondering questions for which they had no answers. Some vexed them, like the issue with Helene; some interested them, like the question of Brody's parents knowing about their relationship; and some hung with all the finality of a cliffhanger, like what to do about prom weekend, if anything.

"So," Jace finally said as he rested his head on Brody's chest, running a hand to and fro with light caresses, not looking to provoke and entice so much as communicate and enjoy.

"So," Brody responded.

He was rubbing Jace's bare back, his fingers tracing the valley of his spine down to the top of his ass, tracing the cleft that started there, then tracing back up to the nape of his neck, tickling the fine hairs growing there, then palming great swaths of skin from shoulder to shoulder and down across his ribs until finally he settled back into that valley and started all over again. He loved the little shivers he elicited, how Jace's skin blossomed in goosebumps as his fingers passed by, how Jace's breath punctuated the caresses with little ragged outbursts and stuttering inhales. Yeah, he pretty much liked everything about Jace and he pretty much liked how Jace reacted to everything about Brody.

"Darren." Jace said it like the name contained a persuasive debate, from premise to arguments to conclusion.

Brody couldn't hide his knowing smirk, though Jace couldn't see it. "What about him?"

"He has a crush on you."

"So?"

"So... Doesn't it bother you?"

"No. It makes no difference. I still treat him the same and he treats me the same."

"Those puppy dog eyes he gave you at lunch—"

"He can bat his eyelashes at me all he wants, Jace, but it doesn't change how I feel about him or you. Everybody develops crushes. You can't control them."

"But—"

"You can't control them, Jace," he interrupted, giving his boyfriend a tight squeeze. "You can either let them be and work around them or you can let them interfere with life and possibly ruin important relationships. I go with the first option."

Jace chuckled on an exhale, his breath tickling the trimmed hair on Brody's chest. "You never cease to amaze me, Mr. Windham."

"I never cease to amaze myself, Mr. Langstrom."

Jace smacked Brody's chest with his palm. "Asshole," he muttered playfully.

After a snicker Brody said, "Don't worry about Darren, Jace. And don't worry about Trish either. You see threats where there are none. You spend too much time thinking and not enough time feeling. You're the man I love, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I only have eyes for you."

Before Jace could respond, Brody rolled him onto his back and settled atop him, knees straddling his narrow hips, elbows beside his head, nose to nose.

"What are you doing, jock boy?"

"I'm going to enjoy some intimacy with my boyfriend, nerd." He dropped a passionate kiss on the other boy's lips. "Got a problem with that?"

Jace shivered, eyes closed. He murmured, "No... No problem."

Brody shimmied down a bit before sucking one of Jace's nipples while tweaking the other one with his fingers.

Jace arched his back and moaned. "Oh hell no. I don't have a problem with that at all."

"Always remember what I told you that first morning we woke up wrapped in each other's arms."

He began dropping kisses all over Jace's chest before slowly working his way down the smooth bare torso toward the hardening prize that awaited his exploring mouth.

"I love you, Brody Windham," Jace declared breathlessly as his boyfriend's lips suckled on that sweet spot near his hip.

"I love you, Jace Langstrom, more than life itself."

Brody didn't say anything else for quite a while after that because there just wasn't room enough in his mouth for words.

* * * * *

Five Years Prior

Jace woke slowly, the first hints of dawn illuminating the room. The moment he reached consciousness his intellect came alive, as it always did, though on that particular morning it focused on a single thread of thought.

A warm muscular body had him wrapped in strong arms, legs tangled together, warm humid breath tickling the nape of his neck, his body pressed back against another body that defined skin-to-skin contact from head to back to buttocks to ankles. Jace had never been that close to another human being.

He allowed his body to report to his mind all the sensations he felt. He allowed his heart to report to his mind all the emotions he felt. Everything weaved together with that one thread of thought: Brody was holding him, had made it clear the night before that they shared something more than friendship, and Jace had never slept more peacefully in his life.

"You're awake," a deep, resonant voice murmured into his hair, the words rumbling from Brody's chest into Jace's back, sending waves of giddy, nervous pleasure through his body.

"Yeah. How'd you know?" He pulled tightly on Brody's arms, hugging himself with them.

"I just do. It's like I'm in tune with you, I guess, or something like that."

Brody's grip slackened, causing Jace to feel momentary panic. But those strong jock arms slowly rolled the nerd over so they rested facing each other. Before Jace could speak, Brody's hand slid over his shoulder, up his neck, across a cheek, the touch so gentle that it drew chills in its wake.

Jace couldn't quite define the look on Brody's face. But he was pretty sure he liked it. He was pretty sure it answered a lot of questions. Nevertheless, in words barely whispered, he asked, "What's happening, Brody?"

"I'm incapable of perspective when it comes to you."

"What?"

"You're so beautiful."

Jace squirmed and blushed. He was just a skinny kid, tall and skinny and not very attractive. "You need to get your eyes checked."

"No I don't, Jace. You're the most stunning creature on the planet. I've thought so for a long time."

"But—"

"But I didn't know how you felt. I didn't know... Shit, maybe this will clarify things."

With that, Brody leaned forward and captured Jace's mouth, the kiss gentle yet full of promise, passionate yet not erotic.

Jace moaned, his eyes wide with shock before fluttering shut. Then he yanked his head back in surprise. "Was that your tongue?"

Brody ducked his head a little, looking sheepish. "Yeah."

"Why would you do that?"

The light of realization dawned in Brody's head. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?"

Jace's fair cheeks flamed crimson as he cringed in embarrassment.

"Hey..." Brody cupped Jace's cheeks, holding him firmly enough to keep him from moving but gently enough to communicate his affection. "Look at me, Jace."

The scrawny kid slowly opened his eyes. He knew he'd see pity in Brody's expression, if not disgust, so he looked elsewhere. Here they were, thirteen going on fourteen, and Jace had never been kissed. Never been touched, for that matter, except by family members or in platonic ways by friends. Nobody had ever touched him or kissed him or even looked at him the way Brody was doing. It scared him, left him reeling with inexperience and an abashed sense of self-deprecation.

"Look at me, Jace." Such warmth in the words, such tenderness.

He locked his eyes on Brody, unsure, afraid.

"Don't think about it, Jace. Just feel. Feel with me. Feel my hands on your skin, feel my body next to yours."

Jace's breathing slowed, his blush fading.

"Good." Brody leaned forward again, slowly. "I'm going to kiss you again. Don't think about it, don't think about what I'm doing, don't think about how to respond. Just feel it, feel your way through."

Jace gave a shaky nod, reluctant to speak, uncertain of appropriate words given his pounding heart and how hard it was to breathe and the overwhelming desire to touch Brody everywhere, to let the young jock have his way, consequences be damned.

As their lips met the second time, Brody caressed Jace's cheek and angled his head for better access. He deepened the kiss the best he knew how, then he touched Jace's lips with his tongue. He exhaled into the other boy's gasp while sliding his tongue forward, tentative yet unrepentant.

A fire came alive in both boys as Jace nervously touched his tongue to Brody's. The fire grew into a blaze when Brody began exploring Jace's mouth as Jace grew surer, letting his tongue dance a bit with the intruder. The blaze exploded into an inferno when Jace reached around Brody and drew him close, mashing their lips together as his tongue slid into Brody's mouth, drawn there by the sudden urge to penetrate, to touch, to taste, to expand the dance to its greatest extent.

Only a minute or two passed before they broke apart, gasping, flushed, hearts pounding. Neither could release their grip on the other, hands holding firmly and eyes glazed.

"That was..."

"Beautiful," Brody said.

"Wonderful."

They stared at each other, a comfortable silence cloaking them, tiny movements of their fingers tracing lazy patterns on each other's skin.

Without preamble Jace declared, "I'm too tall, too thin, too plain. You're... you're absolutely stunning."

"You're beautiful, Jace. Don't ever think otherwise."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true. Don't think, Jace. Just stop it. Feel... Feel what I'm saying, how I'm touching you, how I'm looking at you. Don't think about the words, just feel the meaning, feel the moment."

Brody kissed him again. It lacked the urgency of the second kiss but held a more powerful promise than the first.

"I don't understand..." Jace mumbled when they separated.

"Understand what?"

"This. Whatever this is."

Brody took a deep breath. He'd have to admit it at some point. So he did it when it seemed most appropriate.

"I love you, Jace." Kiss. "I think I've loved you since I figured out love is a thing." Kiss. "I loved you before I understood what the feeling was." Kiss. "I love you." Kiss. "I'm in love with you and I love you and you're so beautiful to me and I love you." Kiss.

When Brody pulled back, he saw the tears on Jace's cheeks, the shocked expression bordering on panic.

"What's wrong?"

Jace shuddered when Brody's knuckles stroked his cheek.

"I've never... I've never understood my feelings for you. I've never understood why it's so hard to breathe and why my chest hurts and why it's hard to think." He shook his head, shrugged.

"Stop trying to analyze everything, Jace," Brody chided. "Stop thinking so much and start feeling."

"I do feel! God, I feel so much it's tearing me apart. I just..."

"Just what?"

"I just don't know."

Brody tried to hide the hurt he felt. "It's okay if you don't feel the same way—"

"No! No, Brody, that's not it at all. I... I..." Jace realized it would be easier to demonstrate rather than ruminate, so he grabbed Brody's face and pulled him forward, their noses mashing together as their lips met.

Brody felt his soul burning and his toes curling and his heart hammering until fit to burst. He groaned, wrapped his arms around Jace, deepened the kiss in whatever way a thirteen-year-old boy could.

Their bodies intertwined in a writhing mass of arms and legs and torsos and tongues and lips and desperate emotional overload.

"I love you," Jace finally said, breathing the words against Brody's lips. "Believe me when I say I do. I've never been with anybody because I've always loved you. I'm just scared. I mean, you've been with—Wait a minute! I thought you liked girls."

"I do. I like boys, too. I like boys more, in fact." Hugging Jace against him and kissing his forehead, he added, "I like you most. Love you, all of you, with all my heart."

Jace murmured against Brody's neck, "Oh. But I... I guess I don't know about me."

"It doesn't matter, Jace. I don't care who you like as long as you love me. That's all I care about."

Jace hugged him close, tight. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Neither do I. Not really."

"Then what do we do?"

"We figure it out together. Always together, Jace, you and me. Always..."