Free Caught Running by Madeleine Urban, Abigail Roux

bit, recognizing the other man was a little embarrassed. So he just let it drop and climbed into the car. Soon they were off, headed to Jake's house, classic rock playing quietly on the radio from where he'd left it on that morning.
    Jake wasn't quite sure what to say on the quiet drive. He felt like he needed to say something, but he was finding that he just didn't know enough about the other man to converse comfortably. They didn't even really have work in common. They were both teachers, technically, but not the same kind.
    He wracked his brain, trying to think up something. “So, uh, did you know Jonathan before yesterday?” he finally asked, remembering the two men being chummy on the field.
    "No, I didn't know him. I don't think he knows I went to Parkview, either,” Brandon answered, stopping the car at the same light as the night before. “He said he knew your name, looked up to you,” he ribbed a little.
    Jake blushed harder and bit his lip. “Yeah,” he agreed as he looked out the window. A lot of people had looked up to him, thinking he of all people would be going on to bigger and better things. Football and baseball scholarships, scouted by Major League and NFL teams.
    But here he was instead.
    Smiling, Brandon let it go, not wanting to prod Jake into annoyance rather than slight amusement. He drove across the intersection and within a minute he pulled into the driveway and shifted the car into park. “I meant to ask before practice,” Brandon said quietly, “if you were feeling better today."
    "Eh,” Jake responded automatically. “All I had to do was put one of those lifts in my shoe again and it solved the ankle thing. Thanks for asking,” he added sincerely.
    "Good,” Brandon answered with a nod, and then he was out of things to say. He sat there wracking his brain, trying to come up with something, anything to say, though he had no idea why. Actually, no, he knew exactly why. He just didn't want to admit it.
    "I would offer you food and beer, but...” Jake turned to the man and smiled slightly. “I'm not good company after 3 p.m."
    Brandon compressed his lips to hold back a snicker. When it was safe, he said, “You were fine last night,” rather evenly. He understood, though. Last night was an aberration. Brandon could be on his way now. It wasn't like he didn't have plenty to do. “Have a good night,” he murmured, caught looking at the other man's shadowed face.
    Jake smiled slightly and said, “I'm always fine last night ,” barely able to stop the snicker as he elbowed the man. “See you tomorrow, man. Thanks for the ride."
    Shaking his head at Jake's banter, Brandon raised a hand to wave. “Bye,” he said quietly, reminding himself to stow these odd twitching feelings and get back to the real world. He moved to shift the car into reverse.
    Jake gave a wave and stepped away from the car, then gave a little hop and banged on the roof, leaning over to open the door and stick his head back in. “Coach's night tomorrow,” he said to the man. “We're coming here after practice. Pizza, beer, more beer..."
    Brandon startled when Jake hit the car, but had his breath back by the time he was done talking. He had to smile, just a little. “I guess since I'm a coach, I'm invited. Should I bring anything?"
    "Only if you have a certain type of beer you like or chips or something. Seriously, it's just an excuse to drink. If you bring any Zima or shit like that, you'll get beat up,” Jake teased with a wink.
    The look on Brandon's face was one of mute horror. “Don't tell me Jonathan did that."
    "No. Troy did it,” Jake laughed, grinning widely at the man as he leaned over and looked through the door.
    "Jesus Christ. Where did he go to school? If you were caught drinking something like that at Tech you'd have been dumped off an overpass onto I-75,” Brandon said, still cringing.
    "He swears it was a joke,” Jake snickered. “I just think he's a closet queer,” he giggled with a shake