Rough [02] - Roughhousing by Laura Baumbach

in his eyes. Even standing still, James looked like he was jumpy and tense.
    "What about tonight? You're not going back there alone.” No matter how hard he tried, it still came out like a command. As much as he wanted to, it wasn't his decision to make and he knew it. Bram softened his voice and added a conciliatory, “Are you?"
    Face bowed, James shook his head. “No. I'm not.” He glanced up, nervously eyeing Bram, his gaze darting from his lover's face to the room behind Bram.
    "I was hoping I could stay over here for a few nights. Just ‘til things blow over."
    Bram could see the uncertainty and hesitation on James’ face. It shocked him. “You have to ask? Really, Jamie?"
    "I wasn't sure.” James bit his lower lip so hard Bram thought it would bleed before he released it to stammer out, “I mean, this ... this would be like everyday for the rest of the week ... or until you get tired of me."
    "That's not going to happen, Jamie. I can't think of anything I'd like better than to have you here."
    Bram moved around the kitchen, pulling food from the refrigerator to start making dinner for the two of them. Taking his focus off James seemed to help relieve some of his lover's unease. Before too long James began to set the table while Bram cooked. The smell of steak and fried potatoes filled the air, making the huge kitchen feel warm and homey.
    "But this will be morning and night. I'll be in your way and under foot. I'll be snoring in your ear and shaving in your sink and leaving dirty clothes on the floor.” James filled both glasses on the table with ice water, the clink of ice to glass almost drowning out his muttered, “You'll be hunting for a place for me to move out to in no time."
    Turning down the heat on the stove, Bram moved to capture James from behind, pulling the man to his chest. After only a split second of hesitation, James leaned back against him. Bram could feel the heat being pulled out of him into his lover's chilled, tired body.
    "I could take having you 24/7 if you wanted, baby."
    "Don't joke about it, all right?” James tensed in his arms. Bram rubbed a hand over James’ stiff abdomen. In time, he felt his lover slump against him again.
    "Who's joking?” Kissing the nape of James’ neck, he murmured into the dark curls under his nose, inhaling James’ end-of-the-day scent. “This house kind of feels empty now when you're not here. You don't snore, but I miss those little sighs you make in bed.” He chuckled and squeezed James’ waist. Voice low and suggestive, he added, “The ones you make while you're asleep."
    His arms shook as James echoed his chuckle, the tone low and weary. James sighed and turned in Bram's embrace, arms sliding around Bram's thick torso, pulling him in tight.
    "I like the way you make me make those sighs when I'm awake, Caveman, but sleep sure sounds good right about now.” James yawned. “I'm whipped. It's been a long day. I'm barely thinking straight."
    Keeping his grip on James’ waist, Bram walked them over to a chair. He pushed his partner down on it, then moved back to the stove to rescue their dinner. “You need food, baby. You skip too many meals. I can feel your ribcage poking me."
    He winked at the scowl James gave him, heedless of the wordless warning to stop the lecture before it started. “If you lived here, I'd make sure you got three meals a day,” Bram said, as he turned and caught James’ eye, “and a bedtime snack, too."
    The last was said with an exaggerated wink and leer just to see the scowl crack and a small smile brighten James’ drawn face. That accomplished, Bram brought the food to the table and sat down next to James. They ate in a companionable silence broken only by an occasional embarrassed yawn.
    James had barely made his way through half of his food by the time Bram had finished. Bringing fresh coffee to the table for both of them, Bram watched as James picked at his remaining food. He hoped James was in a more receptive