Page 71 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Bobby turned the car off and looked at him. “I do, but it can wait until later.”

“Nah,” Tommy said as he got out of the car. When Bobby stepped out, Tommy continued. “Let’s just get it all out in the open today, okay?”

If Bobby disagreed, he didn’t say so. Instead of going to Judy’s front door, he led Tommy to the door on the side of the garage and let them both in to his apartment. It seemed smaller and less friendly to Tommy than it had before. He was hoping that was just his imagination. He wondered if Bobby had changed his mind about Tommy moving in with him. He wondered if Bobby had changed his mind about him in general.

He watched as Bobby kicked off his shoes and set his keys down on the kitchenette counter. When Bobby walked around the couch to the makeshift bedroom, Tommy followed him.

Bobby stretched out on the bed with a pillow under his head, and he smiled at Tommy.

“Is ‘talking’ the new euphemism?” Tommy asked. “Because I don’t mind talking so much if it is.”

“It’s not,” Bobby told him with a laugh. “The last two days I’ve been worried out of my mind, then I was pissed off, and then I just plain missed you.”

Tommy bent down to untie his boots and then crawled over the bed to where Bobby was waiting for him.

They shifted and stirred and moved together until they were both in a comfortable position. Bobby was on his back, and Tommy’s head was on his chest. Bobby had snagged a throw blanket from somewhere and draped it over them. Tommy wished he could take a nap, but that wasn’t why they were here either. “This was your idea,” Tommy said. “Talk, copper.”

Bobby ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair and was quiet for a minute before he asked, “How do you feel about me, Tom?”

Tommy lifted his head and looked at Bobby. “We’re goin’ on a year here, and you still feel like you need to ask me that?”

“I do, yeah.”

For some reason, hearing Bobby say those words hurt deep inside in a place Tommy didn’t even know existed.

Bobby went on. “I know you love me, but…. I want a partner, and I need to know if you do too.”

He probably shouldn’t have taken so long to respond. He could sense Bobby getting nervous while he waited, but this was an answer Tommy had to get right. He knew what the word “partner” meant to Bobby. He was a cop. It meant more than just someone you share your life with. He depended on his partner to watch his back and keep him safe, to take a bullet for him if it came down to it. Tommy figured, to Bobby, a partner was the guy who was always there for you, who would listen to you and take your advice and get you out of a tough situation. A partner was the guy who let it go both ways. Give and take. Tommy sucked at give and take, and they both knew it.

He must have taken too long, because Bobby said, “I don’t want to just be the guy you fuck and ‘oh by the way’ love.”

Tommy knew that. He cleared his throat and said carefully, “I want you to be it for me, okay?” Bobby only looked at him. “I want a partner too, but,” Tommy paused there and then said softly, “I need you to teach me how.”

He didn’t actually say the word “help,” but it was close enough, and Tommy could feel the sting of fear rise up with his words.

Bobby tightened his fingers in Tommy’s hair and pulled him closer. “I can do that,” he whispered.

The kiss they shared then was long, almost painfully tender. When Tommy pulled back, he could feel his blood flushing over the surface of his skin. He was breathless and suddenly needy, and he hoped the conversation was over.

Bobby seemed to agree. He rolled himself over Tommy and spread his legs so they could grind their hips together. Tommy’s breath caught on a gasp when Bobby slipped his hands under his shirt and started to push it up over his head. They were moving roughly, trying to get through the layers of clothes, shed their jeans, and nothing was going quick enough for Tommy. He wanted Bobby like he wanted air. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, an instinct running so deep inside him it felt primal.

Once they discarded their clothes and Tommy could finally touch Bobby’s skin, he spent long minutes trailing his fingers over every inch. He kissed Bobby’s arm where the small scar still looked pink and livid after more than five months. He traced every curve, every sharp angle of Bobby’s body, like he was memorizing him, mapping out every muscle.

Tommy let his eyes slide shut as they explored each other, gasping when Bobby scraped his teeth against Tommy’s throat.

Bobby interrupted the greedy touches and small whimpers. “Have you been tested lately?”

Tommy nearly told him his entire life was a test, but he knew what Bobby meant. “About a month ago.” HIV tests were one of the few things that were actually free at the clinic. “You?”

“Every three months, like clockwork.” That didn’t surprise Tommy at all.

Bobby was quiet for another moment. Tommy’s blood was thrumming through his veins at the speed of light. He wanted to stop talking again. Bobby looked like he was about to ask a question he didn’t want to know the answer to. Tommy nearly stopped him, but instead he let Bobby ask, “Been with anyone else?”

Tommy searched his eyes for a beat. He wanted to tell Bobby what a stupid question that was, but he knew Bobby was asking for more than the obvious reasons. Tommy whispered, “I haven’t touched anyone else since the first time I touched you.”

“Good.” Bobby’s lips were tender as they brushed against Tommy’s with the word.

He didn’t say anything else, but Tommy didn’t care. He knew it was the same for Bobby, and he didn’t need to hear the words to be sure.

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