The shrill buzz of his alarm shattered the silence. Jake slapped the button before the sound could fully penetrate the room, his heart hammering against his ribs. He lay there for a second, frozen, listening to the heavy, rhythmic breathing of the man beside him. Duncan didn't stir.
Jake let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He carefully slid out from under the covers, his movements slow and deliberate, trying not to disturb the sheets. He grabbed his work clothes and slipped into the bathroom. The cold water from the shower felt like a shock to his system, waking him up completely. He scrubbed the sleep from his face, grabbed a protein shake from the fridge, and headed out the door.
The Briarwood site was a chaos of noise and motion by the time Jake arrived. The air smelled of sawdust and diesel, the sun beating down on the concrete slab. He fell into the rhythm of the labor, his hammer moving in a steady, hypnotic beat against the wood. It was a good distraction, the kind of physical exhaustion that kept his mind from wandering back to the warm bed Duncan was probably still sleeping in.
Around ten, the noise of the crew seemed to dim. Mick came striding out of the main trailer, his face a mask of confusion. He tapped a clipboard against his leg.
"Samuels, step into the office for a minute."
Jake wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded, following the foreman inside. The air conditioning was a welcome relief, cutting through the heat. Mick closed the door, leaving them in a small, dim room that smelled of stale coffee and dust. Cal was already inside, sitting behind a desk, reviewing a stack of blueprints.
Cal looked up as Jake walked in. Without a word to Mick, he stood up, smoothing out the front of his shirt, and held a hand out toward the door.
"Walk with me, Samuels," Cal said, his voice low and commanding, stepping past Mick without acknowledging him.
Confused, Jake looked at the foreman. Mick just shrugged, returning his attention to his clipboard. Jake nodded and followed Cal out the door and into the cool shade of the trees, walking briskly until they were a good distance from the trailer.
Cal stopped near the wood line, turning to face Jake, his expression unreadable.
"You're working too hard," Cal said, looking him up and down. "You're burning out."
Jake stopped, his hands on his hips, breathing hard from the walk. "I'm fine, sir. Just trying to make the hours up."
Cal stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave. "I need you to do something else. I need you to take your last week off."
Jake frowned, looking back toward the work area. "Take off? But the Briarwood project—"
"Mick can handle it," Cal cut him off. "I need you to go back to the cottage."
Jake blinked, his mind racing. "Go back to...?"
"Go back to Duncan," Cal said, his tone dropping even lower. "Spend it with him. Work out the parameters of your relationship. Fuck like bunnies."
Jake let out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the quiet woods. "Fucking like bunnies?"
"That is the phrase I was given," Cal said, his expression deadpan. "It is not Duncan's doing, nor is it my idea. It is Bobby's idea, one I obviously agree with."
Jake’s eyes widened. He looked at Cal, really looked at him, taking in the weight of the command. "I'm supposed to just... leave?"
"Go home. Make sure that boy works you hard," Cal said with a grin.
The moment he walked away from the wood line, the shift in Jake’s shoulders was physical. He didn't even stop to clock out properly; he just tossed his hard hat into the cab of the truck and peeled out of the parking lot, the gravel kicking up dust behind him.
He drove with a reckless abandon, the engine roaring in protest as he shifted gears, the city limits fading in his rearview mirror. He needed to get out of the clothes that smelled like sweat and sawdust. He needed to scrub the smell of Cal off him and replace it with the smell of grease and salt.
He spotted the truck halfway through town—a bright yellow van parked under a flickering neon sign that read 'Mel's Munchies.' It was the spot. The one with the massive, triple-bacon cheeseburgers and fries so piled high they threatened to topple over the side of the cup.
Jake pulled in, the truck idling. He grabbed his wallet and jumped out, the heat of the pavement searing through the soles of his boots.
He ordered a double burger, extra cheese, a side of onion rings, and a large soda. When the guy handed him the bag, Jake’s stomach gave a loud, embarrassing growl. He paid, tossed the food in the passenger seat, and sat back in the driver's seat, the engine still running.
He pulled out his phone. The screen lit up his face, casting a pale glow against the dashboard. He opened the text thread with Duncan, the weeks of messages scrolling past him—schedules, reminders, the occasional roger that.
He typed it out, his thumbs moving with a nervous energy.
*My boss, your mentor, just gave me the week off to spend time with you 'Fucking like bunnies!' I'm at my favorite food truck, can I bring something yummy to give enough strength to do as Cal commanded?*
He hesitated for a second, then hit send.
The phone buzzed almost instantly.
*Bring it.*
Jake arrived at the caretaker’s cottage to find Duncan at the kitchen table. His hair was a wild, chaotic tangle of bed head, dark strands sticking up in messy tufts. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, which he had.
Jake set the bag down on the table and slid it over. "Here it is, Sir. I made sure to get extra grease."
“Will it give me fucking bunny strength?” Duncan asked, pointing the burger at Jake.
“Yes Sir!” Jake said enthusiastically as he started to peel off his clothes.
“Don’t stop, but who told you to do that boy?”
“Sorry Sir, yes sir,” Jake said almost laughing as he forgot to take off his boots before he dropped his pants, and practically fell over trying to untie his work boots.
“You know that will require a corrective measure?” Duncan asks as he finishes the burger and onion rings in record time.
The bedroom reeked of sweat and sex, “Is this how the whole week is going to be?” Duncan asked looking down on Jake who he was still on top off after a particularly acrobatic coupling.
“I have no objections Sir, but isn’t that your call?”
“Yes, yes it is. I say, let’s go bowling!” Duncan said rolling off Jake and standing up.
"Where Zach works, why?” Jake asked, turning his head slowly to look at Duncan, who was already pulling a shirt on over his head.
"Because there are games too!”
Duncan buttoned his shirt, looking entirely too energetic for a man who had just spent the last two hours working Jake like a machine. He didn't wait for an argument, pulled his jeans, grabbed his keys from the table and heading out the door.
Jake groaned, pulling the duvet over his head. "You're impossible."
Fifteen minutes later, Jake was sitting in the passenger seat of Duncan’s SUV, staring out the window as they drove toward the strip mall on the edge of town. It was a short drive, but the anticipation of running into his little brother was already making his stomach churn.
The neon sign of "Games and Lanes" washed over the interior of the car in a wash of purple and pink light. The place was loud, the bass thumping from the arcade games vibrating through the floorboards. The smell of popcorn and ozone hit them the moment they walked in.
They found Zach at the counter, wearing an apron and looking bored out of his mind.
"Hey Zach," Duncan called out.
Zach looked up, his expression transforming from annoyance to mild surprise. "Duncan? Jake? You guys are here? That wasn’t on my bingo card.”
Duncan found an Atari Star Wars Ultra cabinet in the corner like it had been waiting for him. He fed it tokens without hesitation, cracked his knuckles, and settled in.
Jake leaned against the neighboring machine, arms crossed, watching.
Zach drifted over from the counter during a lull, drawn by the sound of Duncan's score climbing. He stood beside Jake, watching the screen.
"Huh," Zach said after a minute.
"Yeah," Jake agreed.
By the end of the game Duncan had a fistful of tickets and was looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Duncan spread his tickets on the counter with the same deliberate care he used for everything. Zach counted them efficiently, the manager visible across the room pretending not to watch his employee interact with customers.
"What can I get you, Sir?" Zach asked, snapping into his professional voice.
"What are my choices?" Duncan said, surveying the rack with genuine interest.
Zach gestured along the shelf. "Anything on this rack." He paused, a small smile catching the corner of his mouth. "Maybe your boyfriend would like a stuffed animal?"
Duncan turned and looked at Jake, who was standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, pretending he hadn't heard.
Duncan turned back to Zach. "Which one is the most ridiculous?"
Zach pointed without hesitation to a enormous stuffed bear wearing a sequined bow tie, nearly as big as Jake's torso.
Duncan slid the tickets across the counter. “That’s the one.”
Zach hands Duncan the prize, as the manager approaches the counter, “Zach a word?”
“Yeah boss,” Zach replies and Duncan and Jake check out the bear still within ear shot.
“What you just said to that customer was totally inappropriate,” the manager says.
“What, about his boyfriend, my brother is his boyfriend boss!”
A beat of silence from the manager.
"Oh," the manager said. "Well. Carry on then."
Duncan turned to Jake, the sequined bear regarding them both with glassy indifference.
"I like your brother," Duncan said.
Jake took the bear from him, tucking it under his own arm with the resigned dignity of a man who had accepted his fate. “Of course you do, Sir.”
“Hey, what are you guys up to now, my shift is over,” Zach looks at his watch, “in like seven minutes?”
“We’re off to an orgy, but the more the merrier,” Duncan quips.
Zach stared at Duncan for a full three seconds.
Then he looked at Jake.
Jake looked back at him with the expression of a man who had learned to live with this.
"He's kidding," Jake said.
"Am I?" Duncan said pleasantly.
"He's kidding," Jake repeated, more firmly, to Zach.
Zach looked between them one more time, visibly recalibrating everything he thought he understood about the situation.
“I’ve always wanted to go to an orgy, just never thought it would be a queer one.”
The silence that followed was a specific kind of silence.
Duncan looked at Jake.
Jake looked at Zach.
Zach looked at the counter like he was considering climbing under it.
"Well," Jake said finally, his voice completely level. "Don't knock it until you've tried it."
Zach's head snapped up. The same words from the parking lot, returned without judgment, landing entirely differently the second time.
Duncan said nothing. For once in his life, he said absolutely nothing, which was its own kind of gift.
"So," Jake said. “Pizza?"
“Dude you know I love pizza, but is it a good idea to load up on dairy before an orgy?” Zach asks, “Should I call Mom and see if she wants to come too?”
“She never wants to come to orgies, but ask her if she wants to join us for Pizza,” Duncan says joining the fray.
“Nah, she only ever wants to order cheese, and with our luck this would be the night she says yes to an orgy.”
Duncan and Jake took Zach out for pizza, and then dropped him home. Jake was exhausted by the playful banter between his younger brother and his boyfriend.
When they got back to the caretaker’s cottage, Duncan put the the bear on the bureau facing their bed. “Now he can watch over you for me.”
“You take such good care of me,” Jake said with a quick kiss.
“We still have to deal with that correction you earned this morning, don’t we boy?” Duncan asked becoming serious.
“Yes Sir,” Jake answered quickly matching his dominant’s mindset.
