Free Friends and Lovers by Tinnean Page B

but not before he’d seen a curtain in the house next door twitch. He sighed. Tom wasn’t going to be happy that Mrs. Wiggins had been witness to the late-night activity going on in his house.
    What a night.
    Oh, well. He’d worry about the nosy woman the next morning.
    He went to check on his friend. Tom was frowning in his sleep, and Jack sat beside him, stroking his hair and shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy.”
    “Jack?”
    “Yeah. It’s me.”
    Tom opened his eyes. They were foggy from the drug. “Sorry…”
    “I didn’t mean to wake you. Let me make you a little more comfortable, then you can go back to sleep.” Jack helped his friend sit up, enjoying the muscular feel of him in his arms, more so than he’d enjoyed the softness of a woman, he realized. He turned the pillow, gave it a thump, and started to ease Tom back down, but Tom held onto his arms.
    “Stayin’?”
    “Yeah, I’m staying.”
    “Glad.” Tom sighed.
    “Me, too.”
    “Sleep now.” He relaxed into Jack’s arms.
    “Okay. You go on back to sleep, buddy.” Jack lowered him to the pillow and brushed a kiss across his forehead. “I’m gonna lock up the house, take a shower, and bring that big old armchair in here. I won’t be more than three feet away from you if you need me.”
    “Always need you. Jack.” Tom patted the bed beside him. “Sleep here.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “’m sure.” And now Tom patted the bare expanse of skin exposed by Jack’s open shirt. He mumbled something Jack had no trouble translating.
    “I won’t leave you, buddy.” He waited until his friend’s breathing had smoothed out into sleep. “I’ll be here in the morning. It’s gonna take more than you getting sore and pitching a fit to force me out of your life. I love you, Tommy. I’ll always love you.”
    Maybe one day he’d even be able to say that when his best friend was awake.
    Jack pulled the sheet up so Tom wouldn’t get chilled, then went to lock up the house.

Chapter 4
Flu Season
    Tom Hansom was busy at the stove frying up chicken for dinner when someone rang his doorbell. “Now, who can that be, I wonder?” he asked himself, grinning.
    He knew who it was at the door.
    Still, he made a production of turning down the flame under the frying pan and wiping his hands on a dish towel before he strolled to the door. He moved aside the curtain that covered the window in the door and peered out. Then he opened the door.
    “As Ah live an’ breathe!” he declared, thickening his Georgia accent. “If it ain’t Jack Sweet, an’ in the flesh! What can Ah do for you, Mistah Sweet?”
    The smile that warmed Jack’s blue eyes made Tom want to strip off all his clothes. Who would have thought he’d ever be willing to bottom for anyone?
    Jack tipped back a non-existent hat with his thumb. “Afternoon, there, Mistah Hansom. Ah hope Ah haven’t caught y’all at an inconvenient moment?”
    “Not at all, not at all. Come right on in an’ rest a spell.”
    “Thank you kindly, suh.”
    As soon as Jack was in the kitchen, Tom shoved the door shut and reached for him, not even giving him a chance to take off his jacket.
    A couple of times during the week he’d awakened to find himself reaching for Jack. Tom loved having him as his lover, but he loved him as his friend too, and he wasn’t willing to lose that. He’d insisted, and Jack had agreed, that they only see each other on the weekend. The only thing that had kept him from calling Jack had been that he’d see himself as a candy-ass. That, plus the knowledge that the weekend was on its way, and he could stick it out a few more days.
    “God, I missed you, buddy!” He pulled Jack’s head down and kissed him, licking and biting at his lips until they parted for him, and then slipping his tongue into Jack’s mouth.
    Jack’s hands were on his ass, kneading the taut muscle, and he rotated his hips, the motion bringing their cocks into contact, separated only by the material of their