Pointillism

AN: I hadn\'t planned on continuing this story, but a question posed in the comments inspired me to want to flesh out the characters a bit more. I have continued my fairly standard practice of including little physical description of the boys. It’s a stylistic choice I\'ve made because, while I have a mental picture of how each of my characters look; I like the reader to be able to insert their own ideas of the details. Enough of me nattering on about my writing- on to the story.
-Cammi

Jamie really had to pee, but- but he was snugged up in Rocky\'s warmth listening to Rocky\'s near silent snores, listening to the traffic outside sliding through the slush, listening to somebody next door singing in the shower. Rock stirred in his slumber, pulling Jamie closer, cupping his big hand around Jamie\'s pectoral, thumb brushing across Jamie\'s responsive nipple. It was an extremely nice place to be. Damn his bladder! Jamie gingerly pushed Rocky\'s arm up and slid out from under.

The bathroom was tiny, small enough that you could lean against the sink and aim for the toilet without missing being too likely. From that position, a step to one side put you in the shower and one the other direction took you out the creaky pocket door. Jamie suddenly understood why the English called them water closets- this was literally a closet with running water. Hell, you could probably wash your hands while still sitting on the toilet.

Back in the main room, Jamie put on coffee and tried to be quiet as he searched the one kitchen cabinet for a frying pan so he could fry up the eggs he\'d found in the mini-fridge. He set the last two donuts on a plate on the table, turned around to flip the eggs, turned back around to put two empty coffee mugs on the table and came up against a wall of sleepy Rocky.

\"Mornin\',\" Rocky muttered and stepped into the can.

Once the table was laid, the coffee was poured and the eggs were getting cold, Rocky came out of the bathroom sat down at his plate and stared un-fixedly down in the general direction of the donuts. For the next few minutes, Jamie tried to make conversation while Rock did nothing other than occasionally sip his coffee and nod his head. Jamie wasn\'t sure if the head nods were in response to his words or not- they didn\'t always come at logical places in the conversation. After a little while, Jamie gave up talking and just ate. Jamie made sure to refill Rock\'s coffee as soon as it was empty and Rock gave a small, possibly appreciative grunt, drank the second cup in two great swallows, shook himself like a dog and said, \"Thanks for cooking,\" before getting up from his seat and starting to fold up the bedding from the couch.

\"I can make my own bed, Rocky. It\'s the least I can-\"

\"You cooked, I clean,\" Rock ordered.

\"But you gave me shelter,\" Jamie countered.

\"But you\'re my guest,\" Rocky said with finality and that was that.

Rocky ate his cold eggs and tidied while Jamie got a shower, then Rock showered while Jamie hemmed and hawed about what he should do next because Rocky didn\'t really seem that glad that he was around in the cold light of morning and maybe the side by side fun they\'d had last night didn\'t seem so fun to Rocky now, but he was too good a guy to give Jamie the bum\'s rush what with the snow and the cold outside. Or maybe Rock just wasn\'t a morning person. He had asked Jamie to stay last night, which Jamie had taken to mean for some indeterminate period longer than just the one night because he\'d already been invited to stay the night in the art museum\'s parking lot, but maybe Rock\'d just meant stay in the bed so Rocky could sleep wrapped around him and Rocky expected Jamie to sleep at the shelter again that night.

Jamie\'d almost convinced himself that Rock wanted him to go when Rocky, clad in nothing but a towel, stepped out of the bathroom, rummaged in one of the two kitchen drawers and gave something small and metallic to Jamie. \"That does both the downstairs door and this one. Don\'t lose it.\" Then Rock opened a small door next to the gazelle and began pulling clothes out of the closet there.

Jamie was torn between staring, awestruck, at the key in his hand and watching Rocky change. After a moment, he decided to watch Rocky because he could do that and still feel the sharp edges of the key as he clutched it in his fist. Jamie\'d missed the extra good naked, distracted by the key while Rocky had donned his shorts and pants, but there was still stomach, chest and strong, muscled arms and back to enjoy.

\"I have to go to work early, still covering for Jack. It was a girl- Tabitha, seven pounds, four ounces. We\'re gonna talk when I get back at four o\'clock, okay?\" Rocky asked, not caring or maybe actually liking that Jamie was checking him out.

Jamie tore his gaze up from Rocky\'s navel, and answered, \"Uh, okay.\" Then Rocky finished buttoning, sat on the couch to put on his boots and walked to the door, shrugging on his blazer and winter jacket.

\"James?\" he questioned.

\"Uh-huh.\"

\"You okay?\"

\"You gave me a key.\" Jamie really couldn\'t work out what it was supposed to mean, not after the snubbish morning.

\"That was supposed to be a good thing. I want you to know you\'ve always got the couch no matter what else might be going on,\" Rocky explained, advancing on Jamie by taking the three steps needed to cross the small room.

\"What else might-\"

\"Tonight, James. I\'ll be late if I don\'t go now.\"

\"Okay, tonight.\" And Rocky left, leaving Jamie baffled and thrilled and completely unsure where they stood.

Twenty minutes later, Jamie realized that he has the entire day spread out before him and no need to keep moving along. He could spend all day inside Rocky\'s cozy little African oasis doing his laundry or reading or jerking off or navel gazing or anything else he wanted and nobody would care. He\'d forgotten how it felt to be able to do that- to be able to choose not to go anywhere. He\'d missed it.

Jamie spent the morning doing his laundry, then Rocky\'s laundry, then cleaning the bathroom and dusting the shelves and washing the one window and trying to find some other way to earn his keep. The place was spotless by eleven, so Jamie got his coat on and made for the park. Staying in was good, but moving his restless body was good, too. He almost went to the art museum after his walk, habit taking over, but then he\'d noticed a help wanted sign at the deli around the corner from it and went inside to try his luck. Their delivery person had just quit, so they put him to work right away and it was almost seven before Mr. Kravitz sent him home telling him to be back at ten on Monday morning so he could do the early lunch deliveries.

Jamie pushed the key Rocky had given him into the lock and the door swung open before he could turn it. Rocky was there on the other side of the door looking pissed or worried or Jamie didn\'t know what. Rock pulled him inside, closed the door and pushed Jamie roughly up against it.

\"You came back,\" Rocky whispered before pressing a fervent kiss against Jamie\'s lips and withdrawing again before Jamie could manage to react. By the time Jamie\'d realized the moment was over and opened his eyes, Rock was fussing with something on the miniscule kitchen counter. \"Sit down. Did you eat?\"

\"Uh, no.\"

\"Good thing I saved you some, then,\" Rocky said cheerfully and set a plate on the table. \"It\'s still warm enough, I think, but I can put it in the microwave if you want. You want a glass of milk?\" It was like Rocky had morphed into Jamie\'s mother- all overdone cheerfulness and subservient eggshell walking.

Jamie shed his jacket and took his seat. \"No thanks, I\'m sure it\'s great, Rock.\" Jamie took a big forkful of the casserole- cheese and veggies and noodles. It was really good- hearty, comfort foods. It made Jamie remember when he was never hungry. Rock busied himself making coffee. Jamie ate and tried to figure out why Rocky seemed like three different people now- the generous friend he\'d always been, the hesitant guy who wanted him and, and- and his mother at her freakiest. His mom had always been her freakiest when he\'d done something wrong, so maybe Jamie could fix that part.

\"I\'m sorry I was late. I\'d have called, but I didn\'t think of it until you would have already left the museum and I don\'t have the number here. I\'m sorry if you were worried.\" There, that ought to do it, Jamie told himself.

Rocky sat down in the other place at the table, setting coffee in front of both of them. He had a peculiar look on his face, like he was trying not to say something. Then he closed his eyes, counted to three and asked, \"Where were you? Wait, you shouldn\'t answer that. I don\'t have a right to ask, not really. Forget I said anything.\"

\"I got a job,\" Jamie answered, hoping that that would do the fixing the apology didn\'t seem to have. \"I got a job at the Jewish deli on Brodsky Street. I was driving the delivery truck all afternoon.\"

\"James. James, I- good for you.\"

\"It helped a lot to have an address to put down. Not filling that in always causes trouble. Apparently, the homeless are notoriously unreliable.\"

Rocky was smiling this irrationally big smile for how minimum wage the job was and it was contagious. Jamie had been working so hard all afternoon he hadn\'t really let himself think about how different this job could be. It\'s not like he hadn\'t tried to keep jobs over the last six months- he didn\'t want to be on the street and he wasn\'t lazy. It just that when you lived at the shelters, you didn\'t always get to clean up like you should and you had to bring everything you owned to work with you, which made people nervous and even though he tried hard and did his job, he never could get past about a week at any of them anymore. But now that he was thinking about how that didn\'t have to happen, how he could leave his stuff here at Rocky\'s and always get a shower and wash his clothes, and Rocky was smiling too hard at him, he couldn\'t stop smiling like a doofus either.

Then smiling turned to stupidly joyous laughter and Rocky was standing up and pulling him close and kissing him sweetly and they stopped laughing and got down to the serious business of celebrating whatever the hell it was they were starting together. Rocky pulled him over to the couch, not relinquishing his mouth for longer than it took to guide Jamie down to its surface. Then Rocky stretched out over him and went in search of his tonsils.

Jamie\'d always been easy with sex- when he\'d still been at the university, before his dad had cut off his tuition and told him not to come home for Christmas, Jamie had had lots of boyfriends. He\'d picked up guys at bars and frats and GLA meetings, most of them bigger than him. Jamie liked to feel dominated- not bdsm dominated, just dominated, so Rocky pressing him down into the couch and kissing him with such dogged determination, it was doing great thing for him.

Jamie surrendered to that big, warm, aggressive mouth- all soft lips and eager tongue now putting a big hicky on the left side of his neck, just above his clavicle and wrapped his legs around Rocky, silently offering everything here and now- tonight- Rocky\'s for the taking. And maybe Jamie\'d said some of that out loud because Rock pushed up off of him, reaching back to unwind Jamie\'s legs from his waist and sat up. This come hither, stay thither thing Rock did was getting annoying.

\"James, we should talk.\" Jamie let out a dissatisfied but compliant sigh and sat up at the other end of the couch.

\"Okay. Let\'s talk. What do you want to know?\" Jamie questioned.

\"Everything.\"

\"Could you narrow it a little? I\'ve got a lot of everything- it could take years,\" Jamie told him, frustratedly.

\"We shouldn\'t rush. We\'re already living together. It would be easy to rush and then find out that it was all a mistake later. Fools rush in, James,\" Rocky defended.

\"Okay. I can do slower. What part of everything do you want to know first?\"

\"How old are you?\"

\"Twenty. You?\"

\"Thirty-eight.\"

\"You\'re shitting me?\"

\"No. Clean living and exercise. Where are you from, originally?\"

\"Skokie. And you?\"

\"Here.\"

\"Chicago.\"

\"Well, generally speaking, yes, but also, this apartment.\"

\"You grew up here? In this tiny place?\"

\"More than that, I was born here. My mama couldn\'t afford the hospital. She had a hippy mid-wife who let her pay for her services with her hair,\" Rocky explained.

\"Okay, now I know you\'re making that up.\"

\"No, really. Mama had this really shiny black hair. It grew really fast. Sometimes it meant the difference between me having shoes or not.\"

\"You\'re mom sold her hair to buy you shoes?\"

\"Fingernails, too. You\'d be surprised what rich women would pay for real hair in their wigs and real fingernails to glue onto their hands.\"

\"Women are strange.\"

\"Amen.\"

\"So, when did you know you were gay?\" Jamie asked, getting into the spirit of things. Rocky was obviously gonna take some unwinding to really get to know and the journey was looking kinda interesting.

\"June.\"

\"Wait. June? As in, six months ago? Like, right around when we met?\"

Rocky blushed. \"Yes. Then.\"

\"You just figured it out at thirty-eight years old?\"

\"I was thirty-seven then.\"

\"Rock.\"

\"All right, I guess I kinda knew for a long time before that, but I couldn\'t let myself know it. It was too hard to let myself know it.\"

\"Okay, yeah. I can see it being hard to get sure of it, but Rock, thirty-eight?\"

\"Thirty-seven and the, the world was different when I was growing up, James. Being gay was a death sentence- if the disease didn\'t get you, some homophobe would. It was safer, all in all, to sit it out.\"

\"So you dated women?\"

\"A few.\"

\"Ever get serious?\"

\"No. You ever date girls, James?\"

\"Nah. I knew I was gay from the first wet dream I ever had. Emmitt Smith- big, black and bad.\"

\"A Dallas Cowboy? Ditka\'s rolling over in his grave.\"

\"Ditka\'s not dead. He\'s not even the Bears\' coach anymore.\"

\"Still, a Cowboy?\"

\"Yeah, well who was your first crush?\"

\"Oh. I can\'t- I- you wanna make out some more?\" Rocky slid closer to him on the couch again.

\"Oh no you don\'t. I showed you mine. Let\'s go- who was your embarrassing first gay crush?\" Jamie demanded.

\"The first man I could really admit to myself I wanted?\"

\"Yeah.\"

\"Uh- you, James,\" Rock muttered.

\"Me?\" Jamie squeaked.

\"Pitiful, huh? I\'m thirty-eight. I was too scared of my orientation to admit it to myself until after my mother died and I still haven\'t actually done much about it. And I\'m lusting after a kid young enough to be my son.\"

\"Wow.\" Jamie was awestruck that he\'d been the thing to push Rock over the edge after something like thirty years of denial. Wow.

\"Look, we don\'t have to do this,\" Rocky said, getting flustered, getting up from the couch. \"You don\'t have to do this for me. It\'s not required for you to keep the key or the couch. I\'m sorry.\"

\"Wait, Jesus, Rocky, just wait a minute.\" Jamie stood, too, feeling like he was chasing Rock across the small apartment even though they were still next to the couch. \"You\'re not pitiful, okay. You\'re great, hands down the sweetest guy I\'ve ever met. And, I don\'t think sex is required. You haven\'t made me feel like I have to put out. I like you, thirty-eight year old virgin or not. I want to put out for you, with you. I want-\"

\"It\'s not like I\'m a virgin, I mean, I\'ve had women. Not billions and billions, but I\'ve had sex.\"

\"Okay, okay. God, Rocky how did we get from necking to true confessions to defensiveness I so fast?\"

\"I might be a little irrational about sex,\" Rocky admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

\"Not you.\"

\"Believe it or not.\"

\"Rock?\"

\"Yeah?\"

\"Why don\'t we call it a night on both the true confessions and the make out session? Spend the rest of the night as friends.\"

\"That sounds good.\"

\"Just so you know- I\'m really flattered that I\'m the guy you crossed the line for and, for what it\'s worth, you\'ve gotten a hell of a lot further with me than I ever got with Emmitt Smith.\"

\"There is that.\"

Jamie did the dishes while Rocky made up the bed and the couch. Then the washed up, stripped down to their shorts, Rocky pulled him in for a quick kiss and they went each to his own pillow.

The neon blinked irregularly and Jamie kept his hands above the covers.

He could hear Rocky breathing and Jamie laced his hands together and held them across his chest.

Rocky rolled over and Jamie slipped his hands awkwardly behind his back, pinning them beneath the small if it, making himself settle.

\"James?\"

\"Yeah?\"

\"You want to-\"

\"Yes, God, yes.\" Jamie pushed down the blankets and his shorts in one motion, then wrapped his hand around his dick and went with it. He didn\'t hold his mouth open to silence his ragged breathing, he didn\'t keep his pace slow to keep the couch\'s springs from announcing his motion, he just went with it.

A couple of feet away, Rocky matched pace with Jamie and then Jamie was coming, yes. Rocky was still going, chanting a little mantra, \"James, James, oh please, James,\" over and over, getting louder each time and Jamie almost went to him. He wanted to, wanted to climb over there and suck Rocky\'s big hard cock into his mouth, bring him over the edge, make Rock his and his alone, but before he could get his sex-drowsy body to respond, Rock was sighing his name, just the same way as he had the night before and it was too late.

\"Rock, can I-\"

\"Please.\" Jamie abandoned the couch and settled into Rocky\'s waiting arms to sleep.