Page 13 of Stand By Me

"Why else? I can't wait until he's out of politics again."

Clay measured his words, not wanting to freak Jake out.

"Are you sure he's going to stay away from it?"

Politics could be addictive, especially the highs of success, no matter how rare they were. Clay had seen it back in the White House.

Jake sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"I think so? That's where his head is at right now, at least." He picked up his fork. "To be honest, I think he missed writing more than politics, so if I were to guess, I'd see him writing a book out of it."

Clay raised his eyebrows. "Like a memoir of his time in the White House?" That didn't sound like Troy at all.

"Fuck, no. I meant more like the process of creating a reform like this, the insider view, something like that."

"Ah." Clay paused to swallow a piece of dumpling. "That would actually be a pretty good compromise, though, right? He's not staying in, but he's still connected."

"Yeah, that's much better. But it's nothing more than a guess, so we'll see." Jake waved his fork at him. "I want to hear about you, though. How's the new job? What are the people like? Tell me everything."

Clay sat back in the chair. "It's been good so far. Better than I expected, to be honest. And different."

"How?"

"New people, new ways of doing things. You know how it is."

Jake nodded. Seven months ago, he had been in the same position, starting at the Smithsonian.

"The people are nice," Clay went on. "I guess I expected some posturing or some new guy initiation bullshit, and instead I got a guy who made sure to introduce me to the group in the right way, and a bunch of people who only cared if I'm a homophobic asshole or not."

"What? Okay, start over, will you? With details this time."

So Clay told him everything… Well, mostly everything. He skipped over his interest in Mario and his failed plan to maybe make something out of it.

For now, he told himself. If there was going to be anything to tell, he would share it with Jake, but for now, he wanted to keep this one close to the chest. Just in case.

"It looks like I'm going to be busy, but it's fun," he finished with, instead. "On top of all the prep for the gala, I have a training schedule and a bit of time to play with some gadgets that caught my eye."

Jake smiled, putting his head in his hand, arm resting on the back of the couch they'd moved to at some point of the story.

"So what you're saying is, you're in your version of heaven. If heaven consisted of planning ops, fighting, and toys."

Clay settled in the same position as Jake. "It does for me."

He would probably add a particular guy to that vision right now, but that was way too fast and he knew it.

"Good." Jake bit his lip, obviously hesitating. "I thought you were avoiding me because you were miserable and didn't want me to know. I was thinking about an intervention, but Troy told me to give it time."

"Stop telling me things where I have to agree with Troy," Clay teased but at Jake's frown, he grew serious. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry. Yes, I was texting you less, but not because I didn't want to talk. Or because I was miserable," he added quickly. "I wasn't. I was trying to give us both space and to focus on a new start."

"Without me."

"What? No! That's not—" Clay rubbed the base of his nose. Why couldn't he find the right words when he needed them? "Listen, you're the closest friend I have. You know that. I have no intention of moving on without you. Maybe I overcorrected—"

"Maybe?" Jake crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, maybe. Neither of us is a good judge of the correct amount of contact here, you know?"

"Well, it's not enough contact for me. We've never gone days without at least one text if we didn't see each other."

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