Chapter 15
Jazz was nervous. This was the first time that his best friend was meeting his boyfriend, and he SO wanted them to like each other! But unfortunately, from the way that Xavier and Basil were eyeing each across the table in the restaurant, that might not come to pass. There was a certain amount of wariness in both men's gazes, and also a dash of jealously as well. They were both very important people to Jazz, and the jockeying for the title of 'Most Important' had already begun. It didn't help matters any that while he'd urged Jazz to date Xavier, Basil was feeling decidedly envious of his friend for having bagged this huge, sexy, powerful man. The tension in the atmosphere at the table was palpable.
"Bas?" Jazz said tentatively, to break the heavy silence.
His friend blinked, breaking the eye contact with Xavier to look at Jazz. "Yeah, Jazzer?"
"Umm...do you want to order now?" Jazz asked desperately.
"Sure. Why not," Basil replied, lifting his menu and peering at it ostentatiously.
Jazz threw Xavier a woeful look. Reading it correctly, Xavier sighed and said aloud: "I wanted to thank you, Basil."
The other man looked taken aback. "For what?"
"For talking Jazz into accepting me as his boyfriend. He told me that if it weren't for you, he might have gone on thinking of me as nothing more than a sex friend for God knows how long. And if that had happened, I probably would have moved on after awhile, out of sheer frustration. So thank you. I'm in your debt. If you ever need anything from me, let me know."
Basil's mouth slowly closed. He moved a little, uneasily, in his chair. "Well, you're welcome," he replied. "Anything, you say?"
Xavier's lips twitched slightly. "Yes, anything. Name it."
"Well..." Basil's eyes took on a faintly predatory gleam. "I don't suppose you know of any other UFC fighters who happen to be gay, do you? maybe one that thinks men with English accents are sexy?"
Xavier's dark brows lifted, as Jazz stared at his friend. "Actually, I might," he conceded, making Jazz gape at him. "There weren't many among the pros who were gay, but we all knew each other from meeting in gay clubs and bars. A few of them have even retired, like I have. If you like, I'll call and see if any of them are single and would like a blind date with a certain Englishman that I know. That's the best I can do, I can't make any of them say yes," he added warningly.
'That's enough," Basil said gleefully.
"But Bas...you really want to date an MMA fighter?" a bewildered Jazz asked him.
He snorted genteelly. "Of course I do, Jazzer! I've seen how happy you are. Why shouldn't I want that for myself?"
"Oh," Jazz replied. "I guess I can understand that."
"I'll start making calls tomorrow," Xavier said tactfully, seeing that Jazz looked a little out-of-sorts.
"Excellent," Basil commented practically rubbing his hands together in glee.
After that, lunch went smoothly. While he was glad that his lover and best friend were getting along well, Jazz still felt a bit uneasy even after they parted outside the restaurant and him and Xavier took a cab to Xavier's apartment building. It was what Basil had said...that he looked so happy that Basil couldn't help wanting something similar for himself...that had thrown Jazz for a loop. He thought about it as they made their way into the elevator to ride to the top floor and Xavier's penthouse apartment. Was he really that happy? So happy that everyone could see it?
Glancing sideways at Jazz, Xavier wondered what thoughts were going through that silvery head. Jazz had been very quiet all through lunch - way too quiet, for him. Obviously he was upset about something. Xavier thought that he'd better find out what was upsetting Jazz, so that he could nip any weird behavior in the bud. A worked-up Jazz was Jazz that might do just about anything, including dump his boyfriend in a fit of sheer fear. He didn't like to be reminded that he was happy with Xavier, because that only drove home the seriousness of their relationship. And Jazz didn't like to even think about that. He'd gone along with Jazz not thinking about it much up until now, so as not to spook him. But perhaps it was time to have another serious talk with his lover. The talk. The one wherein they defined their relationship once and for all.
He waited until they got into the apartment. He went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, pouring a generous helping into a glass and carrying it out into the living room. Jazz was sitting on the couch, rather huddled into himself, his arms hugging his chest. Clearly he was thinking too much already Xavier sighed and walked over to hand him the glass. "Drink that, Jazz," he said commandingly.
Jazz took the glass and looked up at him, his delicate brows drawing together. "What's this for?" he asked. "We had wine with lunch at the restaurant."
"Drink it anyway. You're going to need it," Xavier told him. '
Something in his face made Jazz gulp and swallow most of the wine in the glass in one gulp. His fingers were shaking a little as he lowered the glass and set it on the coffee table in front of him. "We need to talk, Jazz," Xavier began calmly.
He visibly flinched. "About what?" his voice was a bit high and breathy, and his hands were nervously plucking at the front of his shirt.
"About us," Xavier replied.
Another flinch. The last time they'd had this conversation, Xavier had forced him to admit that they were dating and that it might get serious. It looked like this conversation was going to be even worse. Jazz bit at his lower lip. "What do you want to talk about?" he half-whispered, trying to brace himself.
"I'd like to discuss the fact that we're a real couple now, and that we're definitely in a long-term relationship. I want to see if you understand and accept that fact," Xavier told him implacably.
Jazz shuddered. "I...I'm..." he began helplessly.
Xavier frowned. "Jazz, I've let you get away with pretending that you don't understand how serious the thing between us is up until now, but I don't want you to pretend anymore. You NEED to accept the fact that we're a couple. If you can't..." he continued ominously.
Jazz paled. "If I...if I...can't?" he squeaked.
"I made it clear four months ago what would happen if you're not in this as much as I am," he pointed out acerbically. "I need to walk away while my heart is still somewhat intact, if you won't go into this whole-heartedly. I'm not saying that you can't have reservations, but you have to be in this with me. Otherwise, we're done."
Jazz leapt to his feet. "You'd actually break up with me?!" he cried indignantly.
Xavier nodded. "Yes, I will. I'm not willing to go on like this for years, with you treating me like a fuck buddy with certain benefits, and not like a boyfriend. A boyfriend that you love," he went on, making Jazz's eyes go wide.
"Love?!' he squawked like an excited bird.
"Yes, love," Xavier remarked, nodding. "It's not a dirty word, Jazz. And I'm going to be really honest with you right now," he met those too-wide eyes with his own. "I love you, Jazz Sullivan," he said, slowly and clearly.
Jazz wavered, looking like he might be thinking about fainting on the spot. "You...y-you...No!!" he shrilled, balling his hands up into fists at his sides, "You don't love me!" he yelled.
"Yes, I do," Xavier replied.
Jazz was shaking his head from side-to-side. "No, no, no, no,no," he changed, as though he could make it the words go away by denying them enough times.
Xavier's scowled and strode over to him. He grabbed Jazz by the upper arms, shaking him a little. "Jazz! I do, I love you! Get over it, because that's not going to change anytime soon!" he barked.
Jazz hung in his grip, panting wildly. "You can't love me," he whispered.
"Why not?" Xavier asked, his brows drawing down a little.
Jazz sniffled. "Because nobody loves me," he said, his voice cracking. "Except for Basil, and I keep waiting for him to show that he doesn't love me, either. He will. Everybody always does."
"What are you talking about?" a bewildered Xavier asked, frowning. "I can understand about Ryan, but one person lying and telling you that they love you doesn't seem like enough to..."
"Not just one person," Jazz interrupted him. His eyes filled with tears, which began to trace down his cheeks in a silver stream. "My parents," he said, and the agony in his voice silenced Xavier.
"What about your parents, Jazz?" he asked after a moment, his voice gentle.
"T-they said that they l-loved me," Jazz said, a wealth of old agony in his voice. "B-but they didn’t."
"What do you mean?"
Jazz's head fell forward, to shield his eyes from Xavier's penetrating gaze. "When they...when I told them...that I was...gay," Jazz began, and his heart sank at those words, "They looked at me like they hated me. My father yelled at me, told me to get out of the house. That they never wanted to see me again. My mother never said a word. She just packed my suitcases and put them out on the porch. She d-didn't even wave goodbye to me when I left..."
"oh, Jazz," Xavier said, his heart breaking. He pulled Jazz in close, enfolding him in his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of Jazz's head. "I'm so sorry," he said inadequately.
"If they don't love me, my own parents...and then Ryan...I thought that with him, I could forget my parents. That his love would be enough for me. But he was lying, too. When he said that he loved me. Then I realized...that it must be...me. That there's something about me that's unlovable..."
"No, Jazz," Xavier growled. "That’s not true. It wasn't you. It was them. I don't know what kind of people could reject their own child just because of his sexuality, but they're not good people. And as for Ryan - he's a piece of shit. A user and a sleazebag. He fooled you into loving him, took advantage of your soft heart, and used you. But none of that's on you. You're special, Jazz. Beautiful. Amazing. Way better than those horrible people who gave birth to you, or that nasty ex-boyfriend of yours. And I DO love you, Jazz. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. And I promise you this - if I ever stop loving you, then I'll tell you outright. I won't play games or beat around the bush. I'll always be honest with you, no matter what. Do you believe me?"
Jazz’s face was half-pressed to the front of his shirt. "Yes," he wobbled after awhile, long enough to make Xavier start to worry a little, "I do. You...you've always been honest with me, Xavier. You were even going to let me follow you around with private detectives, so that I could see that you weren't cheating on me. And you wouldn't have said...that you love me...if you didn't mean it."
Xavier stroked his hand down Jazz's back. "So you think you can handle the fact that I love you? And that we're a couple?" he asked tenderly.
"I guess so," Jazz said with a sniff. "I don't have to say it back yet, do I?" he asked worriedly.
Xavier smiled slightly. "No, of course not. Take your time, Jazz. But know this - I will want to hear it eventually."
"Okay," Jazz mumbled against his shirt front.
A triumphant smile broke across Xavier's craggy face. He tightened his arms around Jazz, intending to sweep him off his feet in a moment and carry him off for a celebration in the big tub. For now, though, he held Jazz close and rocked him a little, comforting his lover and letting Jazz feel loved and safe. It had probably been a very long time since someone had held him like this. But as far as Xavier Paretiss was concerned, he could have held Jazz Sullivan like this forever. And God be willing and kind, he'd actually get to...
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Jazz was nervous. This was the first time that his best friend was meeting his boyfriend, and he SO wanted them to like each other! But unfortunately, from the way that Xavier and Basil were eyeing each across the table in the restaurant, that might not come to pass. There was a certain amount of wariness in both men's gazes, and also a dash of jealously as well. They were both very important people to Jazz, and the jockeying for the title of 'Most Important' had already begun. It didn't help matters any that while he'd urged Jazz to date Xavier, Basil was feeling decidedly envious of his friend for having bagged this huge, sexy, powerful man. The tension in the atmosphere at the table was palpable.
"Bas?" Jazz said tentatively, to break the heavy silence.
His friend blinked, breaking the eye contact with Xavier to look at Jazz. "Yeah, Jazzer?"
"Umm...do you want to order now?" Jazz asked desperately.
"Sure. Why not," Basil replied, lifting his menu and peering at it ostentatiously.
Jazz threw Xavier a woeful look. Reading it correctly, Xavier sighed and said aloud: "I wanted to thank you, Basil."
The other man looked taken aback. "For what?"
"For talking Jazz into accepting me as his boyfriend. He told me that if it weren't for you, he might have gone on thinking of me as nothing more than a sex friend for God knows how long. And if that had happened, I probably would have moved on after awhile, out of sheer frustration. So thank you. I'm in your debt. If you ever need anything from me, let me know."
Basil's mouth slowly closed. He moved a little, uneasily, in his chair. "Well, you're welcome," he replied. "Anything, you say?"
Xavier's lips twitched slightly. "Yes, anything. Name it."
"Well..." Basil's eyes took on a faintly predatory gleam. "I don't suppose you know of any other UFC fighters who happen to be gay, do you? maybe one that thinks men with English accents are sexy?"
Xavier's dark brows lifted, as Jazz stared at his friend. "Actually, I might," he conceded, making Jazz gape at him. "There weren't many among the pros who were gay, but we all knew each other from meeting in gay clubs and bars. A few of them have even retired, like I have. If you like, I'll call and see if any of them are single and would like a blind date with a certain Englishman that I know. That's the best I can do, I can't make any of them say yes," he added warningly.
'That's enough," Basil said gleefully.
"But Bas...you really want to date an MMA fighter?" a bewildered Jazz asked him.
He snorted genteelly. "Of course I do, Jazzer! I've seen how happy you are. Why shouldn't I want that for myself?"
"Oh," Jazz replied. "I guess I can understand that."
"I'll start making calls tomorrow," Xavier said tactfully, seeing that Jazz looked a little out-of-sorts.
"Excellent," Basil commented practically rubbing his hands together in glee.
After that, lunch went smoothly. While he was glad that his lover and best friend were getting along well, Jazz still felt a bit uneasy even after they parted outside the restaurant and him and Xavier took a cab to Xavier's apartment building. It was what Basil had said...that he looked so happy that Basil couldn't help wanting something similar for himself...that had thrown Jazz for a loop. He thought about it as they made their way into the elevator to ride to the top floor and Xavier's penthouse apartment. Was he really that happy? So happy that everyone could see it?
Glancing sideways at Jazz, Xavier wondered what thoughts were going through that silvery head. Jazz had been very quiet all through lunch - way too quiet, for him. Obviously he was upset about something. Xavier thought that he'd better find out what was upsetting Jazz, so that he could nip any weird behavior in the bud. A worked-up Jazz was Jazz that might do just about anything, including dump his boyfriend in a fit of sheer fear. He didn't like to be reminded that he was happy with Xavier, because that only drove home the seriousness of their relationship. And Jazz didn't like to even think about that. He'd gone along with Jazz not thinking about it much up until now, so as not to spook him. But perhaps it was time to have another serious talk with his lover. The talk. The one wherein they defined their relationship once and for all.
He waited until they got into the apartment. He went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine, pouring a generous helping into a glass and carrying it out into the living room. Jazz was sitting on the couch, rather huddled into himself, his arms hugging his chest. Clearly he was thinking too much already Xavier sighed and walked over to hand him the glass. "Drink that, Jazz," he said commandingly.
Jazz took the glass and looked up at him, his delicate brows drawing together. "What's this for?" he asked. "We had wine with lunch at the restaurant."
"Drink it anyway. You're going to need it," Xavier told him. '
Something in his face made Jazz gulp and swallow most of the wine in the glass in one gulp. His fingers were shaking a little as he lowered the glass and set it on the coffee table in front of him. "We need to talk, Jazz," Xavier began calmly.
He visibly flinched. "About what?" his voice was a bit high and breathy, and his hands were nervously plucking at the front of his shirt.
"About us," Xavier replied.
Another flinch. The last time they'd had this conversation, Xavier had forced him to admit that they were dating and that it might get serious. It looked like this conversation was going to be even worse. Jazz bit at his lower lip. "What do you want to talk about?" he half-whispered, trying to brace himself.
"I'd like to discuss the fact that we're a real couple now, and that we're definitely in a long-term relationship. I want to see if you understand and accept that fact," Xavier told him implacably.
Jazz shuddered. "I...I'm..." he began helplessly.
Xavier frowned. "Jazz, I've let you get away with pretending that you don't understand how serious the thing between us is up until now, but I don't want you to pretend anymore. You NEED to accept the fact that we're a couple. If you can't..." he continued ominously.
Jazz paled. "If I...if I...can't?" he squeaked.
"I made it clear four months ago what would happen if you're not in this as much as I am," he pointed out acerbically. "I need to walk away while my heart is still somewhat intact, if you won't go into this whole-heartedly. I'm not saying that you can't have reservations, but you have to be in this with me. Otherwise, we're done."
Jazz leapt to his feet. "You'd actually break up with me?!" he cried indignantly.
Xavier nodded. "Yes, I will. I'm not willing to go on like this for years, with you treating me like a fuck buddy with certain benefits, and not like a boyfriend. A boyfriend that you love," he went on, making Jazz's eyes go wide.
"Love?!' he squawked like an excited bird.
"Yes, love," Xavier remarked, nodding. "It's not a dirty word, Jazz. And I'm going to be really honest with you right now," he met those too-wide eyes with his own. "I love you, Jazz Sullivan," he said, slowly and clearly.
Jazz wavered, looking like he might be thinking about fainting on the spot. "You...y-you...No!!" he shrilled, balling his hands up into fists at his sides, "You don't love me!" he yelled.
"Yes, I do," Xavier replied.
Jazz was shaking his head from side-to-side. "No, no, no, no,no," he changed, as though he could make it the words go away by denying them enough times.
Xavier's scowled and strode over to him. He grabbed Jazz by the upper arms, shaking him a little. "Jazz! I do, I love you! Get over it, because that's not going to change anytime soon!" he barked.
Jazz hung in his grip, panting wildly. "You can't love me," he whispered.
"Why not?" Xavier asked, his brows drawing down a little.
Jazz sniffled. "Because nobody loves me," he said, his voice cracking. "Except for Basil, and I keep waiting for him to show that he doesn't love me, either. He will. Everybody always does."
"What are you talking about?" a bewildered Xavier asked, frowning. "I can understand about Ryan, but one person lying and telling you that they love you doesn't seem like enough to..."
"Not just one person," Jazz interrupted him. His eyes filled with tears, which began to trace down his cheeks in a silver stream. "My parents," he said, and the agony in his voice silenced Xavier.
"What about your parents, Jazz?" he asked after a moment, his voice gentle.
"T-they said that they l-loved me," Jazz said, a wealth of old agony in his voice. "B-but they didn’t."
"What do you mean?"
Jazz's head fell forward, to shield his eyes from Xavier's penetrating gaze. "When they...when I told them...that I was...gay," Jazz began, and his heart sank at those words, "They looked at me like they hated me. My father yelled at me, told me to get out of the house. That they never wanted to see me again. My mother never said a word. She just packed my suitcases and put them out on the porch. She d-didn't even wave goodbye to me when I left..."
"oh, Jazz," Xavier said, his heart breaking. He pulled Jazz in close, enfolding him in his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of Jazz's head. "I'm so sorry," he said inadequately.
"If they don't love me, my own parents...and then Ryan...I thought that with him, I could forget my parents. That his love would be enough for me. But he was lying, too. When he said that he loved me. Then I realized...that it must be...me. That there's something about me that's unlovable..."
"No, Jazz," Xavier growled. "That’s not true. It wasn't you. It was them. I don't know what kind of people could reject their own child just because of his sexuality, but they're not good people. And as for Ryan - he's a piece of shit. A user and a sleazebag. He fooled you into loving him, took advantage of your soft heart, and used you. But none of that's on you. You're special, Jazz. Beautiful. Amazing. Way better than those horrible people who gave birth to you, or that nasty ex-boyfriend of yours. And I DO love you, Jazz. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. And I promise you this - if I ever stop loving you, then I'll tell you outright. I won't play games or beat around the bush. I'll always be honest with you, no matter what. Do you believe me?"
Jazz’s face was half-pressed to the front of his shirt. "Yes," he wobbled after awhile, long enough to make Xavier start to worry a little, "I do. You...you've always been honest with me, Xavier. You were even going to let me follow you around with private detectives, so that I could see that you weren't cheating on me. And you wouldn't have said...that you love me...if you didn't mean it."
Xavier stroked his hand down Jazz's back. "So you think you can handle the fact that I love you? And that we're a couple?" he asked tenderly.
"I guess so," Jazz said with a sniff. "I don't have to say it back yet, do I?" he asked worriedly.
Xavier smiled slightly. "No, of course not. Take your time, Jazz. But know this - I will want to hear it eventually."
"Okay," Jazz mumbled against his shirt front.
A triumphant smile broke across Xavier's craggy face. He tightened his arms around Jazz, intending to sweep him off his feet in a moment and carry him off for a celebration in the big tub. For now, though, he held Jazz close and rocked him a little, comforting his lover and letting Jazz feel loved and safe. It had probably been a very long time since someone had held him like this. But as far as Xavier Paretiss was concerned, he could have held Jazz Sullivan like this forever. And God be willing and kind, he'd actually get to...
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