“You’re under my protection now, okay? Whatever’s going on between you and Jag is for you to figure out, but hurt feelings and broken hearts won’t influence how I handle this. Rob’s doing something shady, and I’ve contacted their club prez about it. He will look into it, and anything you remember about those files would be useful. Don’t you worry. Rob’s already dug himself a hole in one way or another, he just doesn’t know it yet.”
“He’s got no sympathy from me,” Dane said and stretched his hand, which had involuntarily clenched under the table. It was odd to have this much support from a stranger. Perhaps Frank was just trying to discourage Dane from talking to the cops about the whole thing, but he seemed genuine in his concern for Jag. Not to mention that he likely didn’t want the stink of Rob’s actions to rub off on him.
“How about Jag? You got sympathy for him?” Frank hid a smirk behind his coffee mug as rain started tapping against the roof.
Dane looked up, wondering whether Jag managed to reach the den in the condition he was in, but Frank’s question hung in the air like heavy perfume, and he shrugged. “I… he believes his actions are justified. And has treated me well when I was there.”
Getting the best fucking of my life.
Dane shivered, curling his toes when he remembered how wild Jag had been when he realized Dane could swallow his entire dick down. Ah, he could still remember the delicious, musky flavor of pre-cum rolling down his throat to ease the way.
"Treated you well? Cut the shit, Dane. He told you he loved you. Something’s missing here. I don’t need to know your life story, but I want to be sure where I stand. Did you lead him on to run away? There would be no shame in that. What he did was wrong, and he’ll have only himself to blame over a broken heart. Things not working out is a part of life, and he has to learn about it sooner or later. But he’s not had an easy life, and I don’t want him to cling to hope that isn’t there.”
Dane grunted and rolled his finger over the rim of the steaming cup. “I mean… we did have sex, and for obvious reasons we’ve spent a lot of time together. I like him, but it’s not like things could work out in the long run,” he muttered despite his mind presenting him a world in which he woke each morning to Jag coming back with fresh food. Greeting him with one of those warm kisses. Hands wandering over Dane’s skin, and then rolling him over for an intense quickie that on the surface was meant to satisfy only Jag’s own needs. But it so happened that the roughness and lack of questions was exactly what got Dane off.
“Why not?”
The question snapped Dane into reality. “Huh?”
Frank shrugged. “Why not? People get together in the strangest circumstances. If it works, it works. Who’s to judge you?”
“Everyone,” Dane said, scratching his thigh. “People will imagine the kind of sex we have and joke behind out backs. They will question my choices. And also, I have work, and he wants me to just be there and look pretty,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “I can’t just quit society and live in a junkyard.”
Frank’s eyebrows rose.
“I don’t mean like you,” Dane said quickly. “You still have a house here, TV, Internet, and a microwave. The way he lives there… It’s a fun adventure for the summer, but way too much for me.”
“And you don’t think he’d bend for you even a little? Men in love are known to do crazier things than installing hot water or electricity.”
Dane scowled, tensing when thunder rumbled in the clouds again. Jag was out there, after surgery, sitting all alone in their den. If he even managed to reach it on time. “He’d have to see me as a man in my own right, not some kind of… stand-in for a female cheetah he gets to take care of.”
Frank chuckled, and when his face flushed with amusement, the eyes that had previously appeared so somber under the weight of thick black brows, softened. “Yeah, he’s been brought up in a very straight environment, and while he knows he wants a male partner, I don’t think he’s really worked out what that means. You could try to teach him, if you have the patience.” Was that hope in Frank’s voice?
The rain grew more intense, banging on the window, and while it was a warm night, Dane couldn’t help but worry and imagine Jag hiding someplace dirty, where his wound might be at risk of infection. He surely needed help, and just like Jag had taken care of Dane, it was only appropriate that he would return the favor. “I think… I should make sure he’s safe.”