On His Knees (Blasphemy)

  They made quick work of cleaning up and getting dressed, and then they walked the short distance from Alex’s house to the diner, one of those fifties-looking places with bright red booths and stools, a juke box at every table, and a massive dessert case that filled the front of the store.

  They both got the steak and eggs. And then they talked and ate and laughed and joked like they’d known each other for years. It almost felt that way to Jamie, except he’d never be able to forget what a special, rare thing it’d been for him to find someone with whom he connected on so many levels.

  The only thing Jamie wanted to share with Alex but hadn’t yet was how his conversation with his parents had gone. It’d eaten at him the whole flight home. And only sheer exhaustion had prevented him from telling Alex last night—well, that and a desire not to walk in and immediately dump a problem on the guy. He’d been way too excited about going to Alex’s for the first time—and his first time spending the night—to want to start things off that way.

  But he did want to tell Alex and resolved to do it when they returned to the privacy of his house.

  When the bill came, Alex grabbed it. “You’re my guest, this is my treat.”

  “Okay,” Jamie said. “Then next time’s on me. How about next Tuesday night for dinner? Any chance you’re free.”

  “I need to check my schedule at Blasphemy, but I’m sure I can make something work. What’s Tuesday?”

  Jamie ducked his chin. “My thirtieth birthday.”

  Alex grinned. “You’re not treating on your own fucking birthday.”

  “Yes, I am. That was the deal. Besides, if I have you, there won’t be a single other thing I need.”

  “Have I told you lately how dangerous your mouth is?” Alex said, a hint of sternness to his tone that heated Jamie’s blood.

  Jamie chuckled. “Well I guess the question, Alex, is what you’re going to do about that little problem.”

  They rose from the booth, laughing as Alex threatened to meet that challenge tonight. Alex paid at the old-time register, and then they spilled out onto the street and Alex took Jamie by the hand.

  They turned the corner to go back to Alex’s and nearly walked headlong into two people coming the opposite direction.

  Oh shit. Not just any two people either. One of the senior partners of Jamie’s law firm and his wife.

  “A boyfriend!” The memory of his own father’s mocking tone flashed through his head.

  Jamie pulled his hand free from Alex’s.

  Time slowed to a crawl. The decision to pull away. The flash of hurt in Alex’s dark eyes. Larry Katz exclaiming his surprise at running into Jamie here—literally.

  “Uh, yes, sir. Quite a surprise. My friend lives in the neighborhood, and he sold me with his description of the steak and eggs. Alex, Larry’s one of the senior partners at my firm.”

  Alex gave a polite smile. “I’m the friend.”

  Larry chuckled and extended his hand. Introduced himself. Alex did the same.

  And all the while Jamie could barely breathe for the boulder of embarrassment and regret that parked itself on his chest. Not embarrassment about being with Alex. Embarrassment and shame in himself for letting what his father said—or hadn’t said—get to him. Worse, for allowing the insecurity that whole episode had unleashed inside him to hurt the man he loved.

  Because he could see it on Alex’s face. Not anger. Disconnection.

  Like the shutters had gone down over his eyes.

  The moment they were alone again, Jamie turned to Alex. “I’m sorry. I handled that all wrong.”

  “Yes, you did.” Hands in his coat pockets, Alex started walking.

  Jamie hustled to catch up. “Alex, wait. Let me explain.”

  Shaking his head, Alex chuffed out a humorless laugh. “That was all completely self-explanatory.”

  Icy foreboding crawled down Jamie’s spine. There had to be something he could say to make this better.

  By the time they were back to Alex’s, the man still hadn’t said a single word. He whirled on him when they made it to his living room.

  “I’m almost forty years old, Jamie. I have known who and what I am for most of those forty years. And under no circumstances can I ever accept anyone who’s ashamed of me or can’t accept me.”

  “I accept you completely,” Jamie said, the words opening up a jagged hole near his heart.

  “Really? Is that what you just did? The very first time we’re out in public together, the very first time we run into someone you know, and you couldn’t get your hand out of mine fast enough.”

  “Alex, I messed up. I know I did. I knew it the second I did it. I just kinda panicked.” Alarmed goosebumps raced over his skin, because this was not going well. And Alex wasn’t just angry, he was hurt.

  Alex released a long breath and shook his head. The look in his eyes was so distant that Jamie hurt, too. “I get it. You’re new at all this. You’re probably not ready for everyone in your life to know. That makes sense for you. But it doesn’t make sense for me, Jamie.”

  “Jesus, Alex. Wait—”

  “So please collect your belongings and go. And I don’t want to see you at Blasphemy tonight.”

  If Alex had hit him it would’ve hurt less. “You don’t…want me?”

  Alex shook his head. “No, but I wish you well.”

  Twelve

  Jamie wasn’t taking no for an answer. Honestly, he didn’t really have a choice. Because Alex breaking up with him had left him shattered. Half way home, he’d had to pull over on the side of the road and throw up his breakfast. After that, he couldn’t eat anything. Couldn’t drink, even water, without getting nauseous. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t sit still.

  He just kept seeing Alex’s dead eyes and his flat tone and his utter fucking disappointment and hurt replay on the inside of his mind again and again.

  Jamie had to make this better.

  So he went to Blasphemy. At the black double doors outside the church, he smiled at the security guard he now knew by name. “Hey, Carlos. Happy New Year’s Eve,” Jamie said.

  Carlos smiled, but then his expression changed. “Hey, Jamie. Your name’s not on the list.”

  “Can you double check? My provisional membership is supposed to be good through tomorrow.”

  Carlos clicked through some screens on a tablet. “I’m sorry, Jamie. Your membership was terminated early.”

  Jamie couldn’t breathe. The finality of that was devastating. He just blinked and stumbled away in a near-stupor. Alex hadn’t just disinvited him from the party, he’d cancelled his membership. He’d cut him out of his life and out of his club.

  I don’t want to see you at Blasphemy…

  Jamie stared up at the club for long minutes. Maybe an hour. He had no idea what to do with himself or where to go. Somehow he made it home, inside, to his bed.

  Monday morning came, but it was New Year’s Day so he had off work. Which was good because he never got out of bed all day. Until that night, when he had an idea he couldn’t resist.

  This is the waiting position, which is also good when you’ve made a mistake and wish to display contrition.

  Jamie had make a mistake. And he wanted to display contrition with every fiber of his being.

  He drove to Blasphemy, went to about the very spot he’d stood in that first night when he’d admired the hidden church behind the public dance club, and got on his knees.

  Knees spread, palms up, head down.

  And then he waited, because that was the only thing he could do. The only thing that felt right. The only thing that felt like anything at all.

  He had no idea how long he’d been kneeling there when someone approached. Two women. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, shivering. “I’m waiting.”

  They left him, and a short while later, a man approached. He crouched down. Carlos. “Jamie, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  He shook his head. “I’m waitin
g.”

  “I can’t let you stay here, man. It’s private property. I don’t want to call the police on you, and I don’t think you want that either.”

  “Please let me stay.”

  “I can’t. You have to go,” Carlos said, sympathy in his tone.

  His chest felt so hollow he could barely breathe. He forced himself up, but his legs were utterly numb and he stumbled and went down hard. Carlos sat with him until he could try again. and then he drove around the city until his car somehow made it back to his home.

  On Tuesday, he called out of work so he didn’t have to get out of bed. And on Tuesday night, he went back to Blasphemy. And he knelt because he’d made a mistake and wanted to show contrition.

  This time, he made it about two hours, and then Carlos was back, but he wasn’t alone. Master Kyler hauled him off the ground and sat him on a bench to force the circulation back into his legs.

  “I don’t know what happened, Jamie, and I respect the hell out of what you’re trying to do here. But you can’t keep coming back. Your membership is over, and this is a private club.”

  “There’s nothing else I can do, Master Kyler. I made a mistake. Now I have to show contrition.”

  Kyler sighed. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, because he’s gonna kill me. But what kind of mistake?”

  Shame set his face on fire, despite the cold January temperature that’d seeped into his bones. “I pulled my hand from his when I saw someone I knew. A partner at my firm. It was such a dick move.”

  Master Kyler groaned. “Shit, kid.”

  “Yeah. The thing is, though, that I came out to my parents two days before. And my dad…” Jamie shook his head. “His reaction wasn’t what I hoped. So it doesn’t make what I did any better, but my head was screwed up.”

  “Does Master Alex know this?” the Dom asked.

  “I never got a chance to tell him.”

  Master Kyler rose. “Okay, Jamie. Go home. That’s an order. It’s too fucking cold for you to be sitting out here.”

  Jamie did as he was told. Drove around again for hours rather than be alone with him shame and his pain.

  The next morning, he woke up in his bed not remembering how he’d gotten there. Jesus, what if Alex refused to ever even speak to him again? Would Jamie always feel this way?

  He sent his head of HR another message that he wasn’t coming in. Which was when he noticed the date. January third. His birthday.

  Just a few short days ago he’d been making plans with the man he loved for this night, and now he was all alone. Unable to think of what else to do, he went back to the courtyard outside of Blasphemy again. Found his spot. It had snowed a little overnight, so he took off his coat and spread it on the icy ground.

  And then he knelt. And waited.

  “He’s back,” Master Kyler said. “You need to handle this.”

  Alex glared at his friend, who’d been harping on him for two days. “I’m working, Master Kyler.” He gestured to the membership registration desk. “As you can see.”

  “Fuck that, Alex. Go make this right.”

  Alex shot up from his seat. “This isn’t your fucking business, Vance.”

  “No? Last I checked this club was one-twelfth mine. You were my friend. And the kid who’s been kneeling out in the snow for the past two hours joined on my recommendation.” He held out his hands as his volume rose. “That all feels like my business.”

  The mention of the snow threatened to unleash a pang of sympathy, but Alex beat it back. He had no sympathy, not after all he’d risked. And all he’d lost. Just like he’d fucking known he would. “You don’t even know what—”

  “I know more than you think.” Kyler arched a brow over those bright blue eyes.

  Alex blanched. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Did you know Jamie came out to his parents and it didn’t go well with his father?”

  That news was like a one-two punch to the gut. One, that it’d happened. Two, that Kyler knew when Alex didn’t. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I talked to Jamie. Which is what you need to do.” He nailed him with an icy-blue stare.

  All of a sudden, Master Quinton came barreling into the registration area, punching his arms into a coat. “It’s fucking sleeting out there now. I’m not letting him stay out there any longer. I’ve been keeping an eye on the security cams and he looks drenched.” He pointed a finger at Alex. “You don’t want to handle this tonight. Fine. I’ll take care of him. But you fix this. It’s fucking January third. It’s too dangerous for him to be out there in weather like this. Make sure it’s the last time.”

  January third.

  January third? Why did that—

  “Christ, it’s his birthday,” Alex rasped.

  Quinton and Kyler froze. “What?” Kyler asked.

  “Aw, are you fucking kidding me?” Quinton growled.

  “It’s his birthday,” Alex said, his gut twisting and the room spinning and his heart throbbing like it’d been doing every one of the past three days. Since Jamie’s actions had confirmed Alex’s biggest fears.

  No. Maybe, just maybe, since Jamie’s actions seemed to confirm Alex’s biggest fears.

  Because, Jesus, he’d come out to his parents. That was huge. And he’d had to deal with a less-than-supportive reaction. And yet…there was nothing before the moment when he’d pulled his hand away that’d even once indicated any embarrassment or shame in being out in public with him. Alex was certain of it, since he’d replayed the whole morning over and over in his head a million times.

  “Alex,” Quinton said.

  But he was already moving. “I’ll get him. Jesus Christ, I’ll get him.” He stopped short and reached out a hand. “Give me your coat.”

  Quinton shrugged out of it, and then Alex ran.

  He raced through the frigid night and skidded to a stop in front of Jamie, literally, because everything was covered in ice. Including Jamie, who had a dripping wet wool coat over his head and shoulders.

  “Fuck, Jamie. Are you trying to hurt yourself?” Alex said, his heart a wild, desperate thing in his chest. He pulled off the wet coat and helped Jamie put Quinton’s dry one on with the hood up and the front secured.

  “Master Alex,” he rasped. “I made a mistake. And I wanted you to see my contrition. Just like you said.”

  The words—and the ache that infused them—were like a steal knife to Alex’s windpipe. He drowned in them until he couldn’t breathe. “Dear God, you’re so cold. Put your arm around my shoulders. We’re going in.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jamie said as he swayed and sagged. “So sorry.”

  “Sshh, baby. It’s all right. Everything’s all right.” Alex lifted the man into his arms, willing it to be so. “Hold on to my neck, Jamie. Just hold on.”

  Kyler and Quinton exploded out of the doors to help. “I cleared out the locker room and started one of the showers for you,” Kyler said. “Should be nice and hot.”

  “And I have a pot of coffee coming,” Quinton said. “But if we need to get an ambulance over here, let me know.”

  Kyler held one set of doors, and Quinton the other. And then Kyler held open the door to the locker room and nailed him with a stare. “Take care of him.”

  Alex’s throat went tight. No one would ever have to tell him that again.

  But all that mattered right this second was getting Jamie warm. Clouds of steam filled the air, and Alex made for the running shower. He stepped in, not caring at all that both of them were fully clothed.

  He came out to his parents.

  “Can you stand yet, Jamie? I need to take off these frozen clothes so we can warm you up.”

  With some effort, he did, though he continued to use Alex’s body to keep himself steady. Alex didn’t mind that one bit. Especially as a sneaking tendril of guilt started snaking through him. One that said if Jamie got hurt or sick from this, it was Alex’s fault.

  Slowly but surely, he undressed Jamie, u
ntil the hot water could finally reach his skin and begin to warm him. Jamie shivered and groaned. But it was better than the silence of moments before.

  Finally, Jamie’s skin warmed, his lips pinked up, and he could stand on his own. And he looked everywhere but at Alex.

  “Look at me, Jamie. Please.”

  He did, and his eyes went glassy and his face crumpled. “I’m so sorry,” he rasped. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I know I did. But I could never, ever be ashamed of you.”

  God, Alex had done this, had snuffed out this kid’s light. And he hated himself for it.

  “I know what happened with your parents, Jamie. I’m really sorry to hear that your dad didn’t take it well. But I understand now why you panicked when you saw your senior partner. And if I’d only given you time to explain…” Alex shook his head, so disappointed in himself. Because he’d let fear get the best of him. And he’d hurt the person he loved as a result of it.

  “It’s not an excuse, I know,” Jamie said, gaze lowered. “But I’m glad you know about it. Because I couldn’t live with myself if you thought I was ashamed of you.”

  “You tried to tell me. I didn’t listen. That’s on me.” And, fuck, it really was.

  He was the one who made the mistake.

  Alex should be the one down on his knees, which was exactly what he did. “I’m the one who needs to apologize for making a mistake.”

  Jamie’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open.

  “Can you forgive me, Jamie?” Suddenly, his heart was a thundering base beat in his chest.

  “Always,” Jamie said, his voice so full of anguish.

  Alex crawled forward until he knelt so close that he had to tilt back his head to make eye contact. Emotion sat thick in his throat. “Please forgive me.”

  “Of course, I do,” Jamie whispered. “How could I not? I love you.”

  Everything inside Alex froze, righted itself, began to heal. “Fuck, Jamie. After everything, you love me?”

  “I do.”

  “Jesus, baby, I love you, too.” And damn if it felt good to finally admit that. He was long overdue.