What Jordan Wants | A Blog Serial by Jessie G

March 22, 2019 jessiegin

Chapter 1

Jordan Alexander

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry! Shit!”

The expletives continued as Jordan tried to disentangle himself from the human projectile that came skittering around the corner and ran face-first into his chest. Raising his arms a second too late, all he could do was try to still the flailing body before it did any more damage.

When the last of his papers went flying, he lost his patience and barked, “Stand still.”

The response was instant and Jordan wasn’t sure it helped. Anyone approaching at that moment might misconstrue their position as an embrace instead of a head-on collision. As soon as the thought materialized, Jordan forced it away. Damn sensitivity training had them all seeing shadows where there weren’t any.

What started out as a discussion about diversity and inclusion, two things Jordan was eager to address, quickly turned into a lesson in CYA. Cover your own ass. In this case, the administration felt it necessary to stress the importance of protecting the school against accusations of racism, homophobia, and sexual harassment. Not against actual racism, homophobia, and sexual harassment. Just the accusations. Oh, they didn’t say that in so many words and the omission was the problem.

This student racing to his next class because he was probably late was irresponsible, but he wasn’t part of that problem and Jordan refused to make him one.

Carefully, he eased the student back and tried to see past the baggy clothes for any damage. No one would ever accuse him of being hip or trendy, not like his brother Darius, and he absolutely didn’t get the point of swimming in one’s clothes. His wardrobe of button-downs and slacks might not be inspired or designer, but they all fit right, including the two pair of sturdy Carhartt’s he kept on hand for working around the house.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, man, I’m real sorry.” With a self-deprecating chuckle, Malik Butler lifted his head just enough that Jordan could see his eyes peeking out from under hoodie and hair, and shrugged. “I slept through my alarm and if I’m late, Mrs. Carson’s gonna write me up.”

“Late again.” A deep voice stressed and Jordan found Malik’s father watching them with a mixture of amusement and frustration.

The expression did nothing to detract from his handsome face. Jordan knew they were nearly the same age, though Caleb Butler had more lines around his eyes and mouth, and more grey up top. As an attending at University of Miami’s Pediatric center, he earned every strand and line through hard work and an insatiable zest for life. When he wasn’t saving lives, he was living his to the fullest.

As head of the mathematics department at the School for Advanced Studies in Miami, Jordan was more subdued, less heroic and not nearly as vibrant. A neutral backdrop that disappeared beneath the glare of Caleb’s brighter palette.

Was it any wonder they couldn’t make it work?

“Uh.” Malik looked between them uncomfortably. If anyone knew how wrong they were together, it was the boy who grew up watching them hurt each other. When he became a student at the school, Jordan used the potential conflict of interest as a reason to put the brakes on for good.

That was three and a half very long, lonely, desolate years ago and the drought didn’t seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. That was also on him. Caleb had moved on, several times from what he heard, but Jordan couldn’t and yes, he tried. Hook-up sites. Blind dates set up by friends. He even let his mother arrange a coffee meet with the son of a friend from her bunco group.

Desperate?

Jordan had surpassed that a long time ago. Caleb was his one and only, his heart and soul, but it wasn’t enough. Not when living in the shadows made him feel non-existent and stepping into the light made him panic. He couldn’t be the partner Caleb needed and since no one else would do, Jordan was resigned to being alone.

“Jordan?” the sharp question made him blink until Caleb’s concerned frown came into focus. When he stepped forward, hand out, Jordan reared back. That earned matching frowns from father and son, but at least Caleb stayed out of range. “Are you all right?”

“I…” What could he say? Nothing that would help any of them. “Yes, of course, sorry. It’s been a long morning and classes are only just beginning.” He summoned his best teacher’s glare and jerked a thumb toward Malik’s class. “Get going before Mrs. Carson puts out a bulletin. Tell her I ran into you and I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble this time.”

“Thanks, Mr. Alexander.” Malik took off, unaware of how that formality hurt. When Caleb first introduced them, he was Mr. Alexander. Over time, he became Jordan and then Jordy. Going back to that formality only reinforced the fact that he was no one in their lives.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Caleb argued. “He’s the one who slept through his alarm.”

“He would have made it if we hadn’t collided.” Maybe. Either way, he liked Malik. Had once envisioned himself as a doting step-parent. Now, he would only get to see him graduate because it was a professional obligation, and then he’d be out of Jordan’s life forever.

As would Caleb. They didn’t move in the same circles, didn’t have the same friends or live in the same neighborhood. The few glimpses Jordan had been during moment’s like this and come June, they would be over. Malik would be done with school and Caleb would have no reason to return. Jordan had no idea what he would do then.

“I should, uh, probably let you go.” Despite there being a few thousand students and faculty in the building, they were very much alone now that Malik was off to class and that was dangerous on every level. “I’m sure you have work and I’ve got…math.”

Stupid. He, who once rubbed his dual degree in his sister’s face, sounded stupid.

Caleb smiled indulgently and stepped forward. This time, when Jordan moved back, he hit the wall and that smile grew. They both knew Jordan had zero resistance if Caleb wanted to assert himself. It’s the reason there were on-agains after the off-agains. No matter how many times Jordan tried to be the voice of reason, or how many alleged lovers Caleb had in between, this vibrant, brilliant doctor kept trying to reel him in.

For all his book smarts, Jordan had no idea why.

“You have to stop looking at me like that, Jordan.” In a respectful nod to his place of business, Caleb stopped just short of touching. Like that mattered. They were sharing the same air and those dark eyes were boring into his with all the subtlety of a laser. Caleb didn’t need to touch him to affect him, and he knew it.

“Me?” He wasn’t doing this. He wouldn’t even know how. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like you want me to take you back to that closet you call an office, pull down those perfectly pressed slacks, and bend you over the desk.” Eyes smoldering, willingness clear in every word, Caleb didn’t bother to lower his voice when he taunted, “Ass up, face down, my hand over your mouth, and my cock buried so deep you can taste it. That’s what you want, right, Jordy?”

More than every damn thing.

“Just say it, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”

The yes was right there, followed by a please and a thank you, and anything else that ended with Caleb’s dick in his ass. He wanted it. Needed it. Craved it. Dreamed about it. Missed it.

Loved him.

Desperately.

“You have to go.” Before he begged for something he couldn’t have. “Please, Caleb, don’t do this to me.”

And normally, Caleb would respect his wishes, rake him with a regretful look, and walk away. This morning, after three and a half lonely years, Caleb stepped forward instead of away, and said, “Not this time, love. I’ve tried to be patient, tried to wait for Malik to finish school like you demanded, but I can’t handle you looking at me like that and then sending me away. Not again.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Jordan wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t being coy, and he didn’t know how to play hard to get. He simply didn’t understand what Caleb would ever see in him.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you.” Caleb reached out, grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him forward until they were breathing each other in. “The question is—what do you want, Jordan?”

How could he say that he wanted to live in Caleb’s shadow, be the neutral backdrop that made his colors shine brighter, without losing himself in the process?

Come Back in April for Chapter 2

Chapter 1

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