Signs of Life

By Melanie Hansen

A Resilient Love Story

Successful lawyer Jeremy Speer has it all—a loving husband, a beautiful home, and a cherished dream that’s about to become reality. He’s learned not to take happiness for granted, meeting the challenges of life and love head-on with unwavering commitment and fierce devotion. A series of tragic events leave Jeremy shattered, adrift on a sea of unimaginable pain. He’s able to piece his life back together, but instead of embracing it, he merely exists, using isolation and punishing physical exertion to keep the world at bay.

High school teacher Kai Daniels has a heart for at-risk kids—he was one himself, and a teenage brush with the law and some troubled years behind bars left him scarred inside and out. With courage, hard work, and the support of friends, he’s built a fulfilling life that leaves no time for a relationship.

An intense encounter with Kai at a gay club ignites a spark in Jeremy that he thought was extinguished forever, but he’s unwilling to destroy the fragile peace he’s managed to create, and he leaves Kai humiliated and disappointed. Things should have ended there, but a bizarre occurrence brings the two together in a way neither of them expected.

To all my girls in the BC. Thanks for the epic rants, and most of all the laughs. Much love!

THE WORLD
wasn’t supposed to end on a day like today, a day when the sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining, the temperature so perfect and mild that the air felt… soft, caressing. It wasn’t supposed to end while children were playing in their front yards, free for the day from the confinement of school, laughing with joy, enjoying the innocent pleasures of childhood.

The world wasn’t supposed to end at all, not like this. Not while Jeremy was standing on his own front porch, the smell of the pot roast Brent put in the crockpot that morning wafting from the open doorway Jeremy stood in front of, listening as a grim-faced police officer said words like “accident” and “hospital” and “serious.”

“But he just went to pick up our dry cleaning,” Jeremy said stupidly for the third time, and he wondered at the pity that crossed the officer’s face.

“Sir, you need to get to the hospital right now. Mr. Speer has you listed on his emergency info as next of kin, and the doctors will have some questions.” The officer’s tone was gentle, almost too gentle, like he was trying to keep Jeremy calm.

Jeremy just stood there, not wanting to face it. Brent was finally doing better, so much better, and now this? A painful injury could send him spiraling back down into the black hole he’d just climbed out of, and at the thought of it, Jeremy was suddenly exhausted, so emotionally tired.

“Sir, we need to go. Let me drive you to the hospital.” The officer’s insistent voice snapped him out of those disloyal thoughts, and Jeremy was bitterly ashamed of himself.
For better or for worse
, he told himself fiercely, remembering whispering those words time and again in Brent’s ear while wiping the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs, doing his best to comfort and soothe.

Jeremy nodded, reaching out to grab his wallet, keys and phone from the little basket just inside the door. The officer waited while he locked up, then led him to his patrol car. As Jeremy started to climb into the front passenger seat, he suddenly remembered something.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I should turn off the crockpot. He worked so hard on dinner, I don’t want it to be ruined.”

“Sir, we really need to—” the officer began, but Jeremy turned and started hurrying back toward the house.

“It’ll just take a second,” he called over his shoulder, digging around in his pocket for his keys, dropping them a few times before fumbling the front door open with shaking hands and rushing across the kitchen to flip off the crockpot.
What are you doing? Who cares about the fucking food?

On the way to the hospital he wondered how badly Brent was hurt. After all the dry cleaner was only about two miles from home, and most of the journey there was on side streets, neighborhood streets. Whiplash, some cuts and bruises, maybe a broken bone?

Later Jeremy would wonder at his cluelessness, should have known a few bumps and scrapes wouldn’t warrant an officer being sent to his house to get him. It was like his mind and heart were doing their desperate best to protect him, to insulate him, for just a few more precious minutes. Because the world wasn’t supposed to end today, not ever, not like this.

JEREMY SAT
in the crowded waiting room, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his head hanging. No one would tell him anything, and he’d been waiting for what felt like an eternity. When the officer dropped him off at the emergency room entrance, he’d suggested, in that same overly gentle voice, that Jeremy call someone to be with him. He and Brent hadn’t been living here long, but Jeremy did know someone to call. As he sat scrubbing his hands over his face for the millionth time, he felt a touch on his shoulder, looking up with a start into worried green eyes.

“Jase,” Jeremy said gratefully, standing up and embracing one of his oldest friends. They’d known each other since high school, back when they were kids questioning their sexuality, hormones running wild. The passion they’d imagined between them lasted through a few sweaty groping sessions and an awkward, painful fuck before settling into a deep and lasting friendship.

“What happened?” Jase asked as they both sat back down on the hard plastic chairs. Jeremy leaned against Jase’s shoulder, craving the touch, the warmth, his usual stoicism having deserted him.

“Brent was in an accident,” he said hoarsely, his throat tight. “I think they took him for some tests, but no one’s told me anything in a while.” Just then he noticed Jase was wearing his blue Navy fatigues, and he pulled away from him and sat up, putting a careful distance between them, muttering an apology. Jase was active-duty Navy, and DADT, although having been challenged in federal court, was still in full force and effect.

“No worries, Jere,” Jase said gently. “It doesn’t look weird for me to be comforting you in a place like this. Fuck what anyone else thinks.” He put his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and pulled him firmly against him again, and with a sigh, Jeremy gave in to the comfort he needed right then.

They sat like that in silence, Jeremy’s head on Jase’s shoulder, Jase’s arm wrapped tightly around him, the thin fabric of Jeremy’s wrinkled dress shirt making a raspy sound as Jase stroked his thumb over Jeremy’s upper arm soothingly. Jeremy remembered getting home from work just a few hours ago, yanking his tie off, pulling the tails of the same shirt out of the waistband of his pants, grinning as he’d walked into a bright, clean house, the smell of pot roast making his mouth water.

Even better had been the sight of his husband, Brent, moving around the kitchen busily, dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans, a far cry from the stained and wrinkled pajamas that had been his standard uniform for months as he battled a crippling bout of depression. A med change, a new combination, had worked wonders, and Jeremy had felt like he had the old Brent back, the man he’d fallen in love with and still loved so deeply.

“Hey, baby,” Jeremy murmured, reaching out and pulling Brent to him, wrapping him up in his arms. He dipped his head for a kiss, enjoying the feeling of Brent’s hot, soft mouth caressing his. Their tongues danced lazily as they swayed in place, bodies pressed tightly together until Brent pulled away, running his hands up and down Jeremy’s arms.

“You hungry?” he asked, his blue eyes shining with a light Jeremy sometimes despaired of ever seeing again. Heat shot through him, and he moved one hand between their bodies to cup Brent through his jeans, exulting in the steel bar pushing insistently through the denim. Jeremy squeezed, Brent’s soft groan going straight to his own cock. It had been so long since Brent wanted any intimacy, not even making love but intimacy of any sort, and Jeremy was more than ready. He didn’t realize how starved he was for Brent’s touch until that very moment. Suddenly he couldn’t wait any longer to touch Brent, smell him, taste him….

“So hungry,” he whispered before dropping to his knees. He held Brent’s hips steady as he mouthed his cock through his jeans until Brent sagged bonelessly back against the kitchen counter.

Jeremy fumbled with belt buckle, snap and zipper, cursing the fine motor skills undressing someone else apparently entailed. Brent’s breathy chuckles were music to his ears. Jeremy finally wrestled the clothing into submission, the reward for his labors a mouthful of hot, silky flesh, liquid salt exploding on his tongue. Brent’s laughter turned into husky groans that filled the room.

Jeremy sucked him, teased him, drove him wild until Brent’s hands were tangled almost painfully in his hair as his hips pumped. Jeremy took all of him easily, one hand rolling and squeezing Brent’s balls as they drew taut. Brent moaned, and suddenly hot, salty come shot against the back of Jeremy’s throat. He swallowed greedily, milking Brent of every drop with his fingers and mouth, making Brent’s knees buckle. Jeremy stood quickly and caught him up in his arms, kissing him, driving his tongue deep into Brent’s mouth, forcing him to taste himself.

Brent eagerly licked Jeremy’s lips clean, then slid his hand suggestively down to the front of Jeremy’s pants, widening his eyes comically as he encountered sticky wetness.

“Aw, honey,” he said sympathetically, squeezing Jeremy’s spent cock gently before releasing him, laughter glinting in his eyes. Jeremy smiled ruefully; he’d exploded like a green boy the minute Brent’s spunk jetted so hotly into his throat.

“I haven’t come in my pants since I was fourteen years old,” Jeremy grumbled good-naturedly. “See what you do to me, baby?”

Brent kissed him again gently, and Jeremy caressed Brent’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I love you,” he breathed. Brent hugged him hard before releasing him.

“I meant to pick up your dry cleaning today, and I forgot. I don’t think you have any clean pants for work tomorrow, so let me run out and grab it before dinner,” Brent said briskly, tucking himself away and putting his clothing to rights, the sex flush on his cheeks slowly fading. He looked happy and gorgeous, his blond beauty making Jeremy’s gut clench with renewed desire.

“I can do it,” he said. “I’ll just run, change, and—”

“Nah, I got it, honey,” Brent said, already grabbing his wallet and keys. “By the time you get cleaned up and changed, I could be there and back already. Go take a hot shower and relax. You deserve it. We’ll eat when I get back.” Brent grabbed him around the neck with one hand and gave him a short, hard kiss, then disappeared out the door.

Jeremy went upstairs and stripped out of his soggy pants and underwear. He debated with himself for a minute whether to wait for a shower until Brent got back and he could coax him to join him, but discarded that idea as the stickiness at his groin started to dry into an uncomfortable itchiness. He lingered in the shower, letting the hot water beat down on his shoulders and neck. The phone rang as he was drying off, and by the time the call ended, Jeremy realized with a jolt Brent had been gone far longer than a quick two-mile trip warranted.

Starting to worry, he pulled on clean underwear and jeans, startled by the doorbell. A quick glance out of the bedroom window to the driveway below revealed a police cruiser parked there, and Jeremy mindlessly grabbed his discarded and wrinkled dress shirt, pulling it on as he ran down the stairs and answered the door.

“You okay?” Jase’s voice broke into Jeremy’s thoughts, and he pulled away from him and sat up straight, rubbing his eyes.

“I just want to hear something. What the fuck is taking so long?”

Jase didn’t spout any meaningless words of comfort, just patted Jeremy’s knee. “I don’t know, man. Do you have any idea what happened?”

“Just that he was hit by a pickup that ran a four-way stop sign. It’s a neighborhood street. How fast could the guy have been going?” Jeremy didn’t want to think of Brent in Brent’s beloved old car, a small sedan he’d had for years and predated any kind of side airbags or advanced safety features. Jeremy had offered time and time again to take him to buy a new car, but Brent always declined, saying he was far too attached to the one he had.

Jase squeezed his knee, then asked, in an obvious effort to keep Jeremy distracted, “When’s your baby due again?”

Jeremy couldn’t help but smile at that. “A little over a month. Can you believe it?”

Jase asked a few more questions, and Jeremy was happy for the distraction as he caught Jase up to date on the surrogate pregnancy he and Brent were expecting. That was the main reason they’d moved from their hometown in Florida to San Diego, because California was a gay marriage and surrogacy friendly state. Brent had wanted the piece of paper, the white picket fence, and 2.5 kids, the quintessential American dream, and Jeremy would have moved heaven and earth to get it all for him.