Junk (21 page)

Lewis chuckled, and when Brandon joined in, it quickly turned into a full-on belly laugh. The tension melted from his shoulders, and he flung himself down on his back, staring up at the high, wispy clouds. Brandon landed beside him a few moments later.

“Maybe I should give it a go with Jasper. I mean, the friends-with-benefits idea. If I don’t make any promises, then he won’t feel he owes me and has to stick around even when his heart’s somewhere else.”

“Thought you didn’t want him to leave you.”

“I don’t. But I don’t want to start a proper relationship before he’s dealt with all his issues. And I don’t want to feel like I’m manipulating him.”

“That’d be a first.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You always go after men you want to change. You start on their wardrobes, but I bet you get going on their heads too. Trying to solve all their little problems. Make them into the perfect man.”

“That’s not true!”

“Yeah? What about Carlos? You told me when you first met him that he’d be great if he could just learn how to relax, and that you were going to help him do it.”

“He was a workaholic.”

“I know. I’m not arguing with that. I’m just saying it’s pretty dumb starting a relationship with a version of someone that doesn’t even exist yet. You fell for the Carlos in your imagination. Not the real bloke, who, let’s face it, was an egotistical bastard.”

Lewis wasn’t about to challenge that. “And that’s why I want to wait with Jasper. Let him get his hoarding problem under control before we get serious.”

“Fine. But no reason you can’t enjoy a bit of sex in the meantime, is there? Might help motivate him.”

Could it have positive benefits for Jasper? That was an angle Lewis hadn’t really considered yet. “Maybe. He has agreed to a warehouse clear-out since we got it on.” Whether the two facts were in any way connected was impossible to tell, but perhaps it had helped Jasper. “He does seem starved of physical affection. He’s got no family, and few friends as far as I can see. When I touch him, just his hand, even, it’s like he’s drinking it up.” He watched a wisp of cloud detach itself from the rest as an old song filled his head. “Like my skin is water on a burning beach. It brings him relief.”

“You start singing Crowded House again, I’m gonna fucking well deck you.”

“I’m amazed you even recognised the line.” He’d always had a thing for the Kiwi band, but in their student days, Brandon had vociferously objected to being forced to listen to them.

“Couldn’t help it. Bet I know all the lyrics to that album after you had it on repeat for three fucking years.”

“I listened to other stuff too.”

“Yep. And all of it was just as bland and mediocre. David fucking Grey. I ask you.”

“Shut up. At least I’m not hankering after a brand-new combine harvester. You’ll be singing the Wurzels before you know it, country boy.”

“Oo arrr,” Brandon agreed.

“You sound more like a pirate, now.”

“Yo ho ho and shiver me fucking timbers. I’ve got a bottle of rum at home. We can have wine with chasers.”

“Sounds good. You finished here?”

“Yep.”

As Brandon went to lock away the scythe, Lewis turned the idea over in his mind. Him and Jasper, friends with benefits.

It scared him, but it was exciting too.

And better yet, it would make Jasper smile.

He couldn’t think of a more worthy goal.

Chapter Nineteen

Jasper stared at the clear spot on his kitchen floor. All these weeks, and only one stack removed. But sometime soon, very soon, he’d agreed to have the whole lot taken out. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now…

How the hell was he going to deal with all those empty rooms?

He sat heavily in his chair. His only clear chair. He should make some room for Lewis and move the papers off the others, he knew. There was even a space to move them to now, but somehow he couldn’t summon up the energy. His limbs had turned into deadweights.

How on earth was he planning to achieve this clear-out? Even with Lewis’s help, it would take months. There was just too much stuff. His gaze panned across the kitchen and slid over the fire extinguisher.

He should burn it.

The thought flared bright for a moment, tempting him. All his problems, dealt with by simply lighting a match and holding it to a stack of papers. He’d never have to go into that upstairs room again. Never have to confront that memory.

But he was too much of a coward.

Someone would have to order him or cajole him. He wasn’t capable of taking independent action, that much was clear.

Jasper sank his head into the cradle of his arms and let himself drift. Lewis would know what to do. When he got here, everything would be fine again. It was only the times between Lewis’s visits that everything went to crap.

Jasper must have fallen asleep there, because the sound of knocking on the front door had reached frantic levels before he lifted his head again. “Coming,” he called out, doubting his voice would even carry that far.

He was halfway down the hallway when he heard his phone ringing back in the kitchen. Should he go back and get it? Which way? He stood there, his head whipping from side to side, unable to take a step in either direction.

Stupid, useless idiot. Every moment he dithered, Lewis would be getting more and more worried, picturing him buried under a pile of his own rubbish.

But he still couldn’t seem to move. His feet had grown into the litter of junk mail on the floor. He’d finally taken root among his possessions.

“Jasper? Are you in there?” Lewis yelled. Jasper turned to see the letterbox open, and a torch beam shone through, wiggling around. The relieved sigh was quickly followed up by a frustrated sound. “What the hell are you doing standing there?”

“Sorry, so sorry,” Jasper mumbled, almost tripping over his own shoes on his way to the door. He reached out to steady himself and knocked over a pile of books. They dashed his glasses off on the way down. “Oh God!”

“What? What’s going on?” The torch beam swung erratically. “Shit! Are you okay in there? Jasper? Speak to me, Jasper?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just… Umm… Some books went over, and I lost my specs.”

“Can you still get to the door?”

“I think so.”

Jasper eyed the floor ahead of him. It was covered in fallen books, and any one of them could be concealing his glasses underneath. But Lewis was worried, and Lewis was probably going to hug him when he got to the door.

Sod it. That was worth sacrificing a pair of specs for.

He trod carefully, the books’ angled, slippery surfaces more hazardous than he’d imagined. It didn’t help that his left eye was twitching like crazy, making what little light there was strobe distractingly. Without his glasses, it was tough to see what was underfoot in the dim light of the hallway. But there shouldn’t be anything on the floor, should there? He should be walking on the marble, which lay solid and stable underneath all the shifting layers of paper. So stupid, living like this. It all had to go. All of it. Yes. Now.

Finally he reached the front door, and scrabbled at the last few books lying there so he could open it just enough.

“Are you okay?” Lewis shoved through, frowning. Didn’t seem like he was pissed off with Jasper, though, because as soon as he got through the door, his arms enveloped him. More likely pissed off at the books or the whole stupid situation. “Jasper? I need you to talk to me.”

“I’m… Yeah. I think so. Well, no, not really. But yes, I am now. Okay, I mean.” God, he was really rambling. “Because you’re here,” he clarified, instantly wishing he could take the words back, because what could be more pathetic?

But Lewis didn’t seem to think so, because he clutched Jasper even tighter. “I’m so glad. Freaks me out, thinking of you living in here.”

“I think it’s starting to freak me out too.”

“How are you coping with that?”

Sitting around feeling sorry for himself? But he couldn’t say that. “Not so well. It’s…it’s still frightening me. The idea of being in an empty house. But I don’t know… I think now maybe I’ve become even more terrified by the hoard.”

“How, exactly?” Lewis pulled back a little to look into Jasper’s face, and he just wanted to bury his head to avoid that keen gaze. So much easier to talk that way.

Instead, he turned his head, looking down at the books littering the floor. “It scares me, the way it’s taken over my home. My life. Like there’s nothing more to me than a big pile of books.”

“There’s a whole lot more to you than that. Believe me.”

“But is there? I haven’t done anything with my life. I’m still working in the same library I started out in. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I haven’t even had a proper holiday since before Mama started getting ill. My boss normally has to order me to take a couple of weeks off every summer. You should have heard her when I called her up this morning and actually asked for a fortnight off.”

“So you got it, then?”

“God, yes. Starting whenever I like. She said I had accrued holiday from last year too, so I can take a month off if I want to and still get back to work in time for the students returning.”

“Whenever you like?” Lewis grinned, his smile like sunshine in the dark hallway. “How about tomorrow, then? I’ve rearranged my workload with Carroll so I’ll be able to help you most days. The warehouse landlord said he could have it ready for us, and we can start with just a few vanloads. Hire a lorry for a day when we can get help roped in.”

“Help?” Jasper’s stomach plummeted. “Like who? I don’t want strangers going through my stuff.”

“Not strangers. People you trust and want to be there. Carroll, and anyone else you can think of to ask.”

Oh. That sounded okay, then. His stomach climbed back up to its usual position again. “Yusef offered. And his two kids could help. I wouldn’t mind letting them into the house.” He glanced around again. “So long as we can get the hallway clear first. I don’t want them seeing this.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow.”

“But I need my glasses now.”

Lewis fixed him with a gaze, and Jasper didn’t know how to interpret it. Reminded him of how Lewis had looked lying in the garden. Something ardent and tender. Like a line from one of Shakespeare’s sonnets written in his eyes.

“Okay, but there’s something I want to do first.” Lewis’s hands framed his head, then, thumbs stroking his cheeks. Jasper stood perfectly still, transfixed as Lewis tilted his head and leaned forward.

Their lips brushed, the lightest pressure still electrifying every nerve ending in Jasper’s body and stealing his breath.

He stood there, dazed, as Lewis regarded him with solemn eyes. “What was that for?” Jasper asked, touching his lips with his fingertips.

“A promise. I’ve been thinking about everything you said. Your offer. I’m not proud of how I acted last week, but I want to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”

Jasper’s heart leapt up inside him and started dancing the fandango.

“You mean…”

“I mean if you want to try being friends with benefits, I’m willing.”

“Oh.” Disappointment slowed his heart’s dance into a waltz. But it was still dancing. Friends with benefits was better than nothing. Better than client and therapist. And it meant he’d get to have sex with Lewis. Perhaps even snuggle up afterwards. He smiled.

“Would that be okay?” Lewis asked, sounding hesitant.

“More than okay.” Jasper kissed him back, but as he tried to deepen things, Lewis pulled back again.

“Not here. Not until it’s cleared. Your house is a death trap right now.”

“Yes, of course.” Even more reason to get going on the clear-out. Jasper smiled. Life suddenly looked a hell of a lot more rosy, even without his glasses on. Thinking of which…

They stacked the books back up again between them, and it was Jasper who eventually uncovered them. “Shit. Sorry, erm, crap, I meant.” He held them up so Lewis could see the broken lens, a single crack running down the middle of it. “At least they weren’t glass lenses. Plastic’s a lot tougher.”

“Have you got a spare pair?”

“No. Didn’t bother last time. Figured they’d only get lost anyway.” He put them on. One lens was still okay, but the frame had been bent out of shape again, pinching the bridge of his nose uncomfortably.

Lewis pursed his lips and nodded slowly. Jasper could see him reaching a decision about something. Hopefully it wasn’t that Jasper was too much of a clumsy muppet to risk shagging. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t injure Lewis in the throes of passion. Not intentionally, anyway.

Lewis pointed at Jasper’s left eye. “Those things make you look like you’ve been through the wars. I’m thinking
Lord of the Flies
right now, and Piggy really isn’t a good look on you. I’ve got an idea for the rest of our session. How d’you fancy going frame shopping?”

“Right now? But shouldn’t we be getting going on the clearing?”

“Can you see properly like that?”