Black Bird - Chapter Eight
Black Bird
The sequel to "Let Go"
Part: 8/
Genre: A/U Hancest, Romance, Drama
Pairing: Tike (Eventually. Not portrayed as brothers)
POV: JORDAN
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: Adult references.
Word Count: 3221
"H-hi" Jordan felt his cheeks flood with embarrassment as he listened to the way Isaac's voice crooned into the phone. There was something a little off about his tone, but he didn't have time to consider it. "How are you?"
"I'm okay..." Isaac replied but sounded as though he had more to say.
Jordan waited for a moment and swallowed around the lump that had started to rise in his throat. "Just okay?"
"I'd be better if I had some company." Isaac admitted, sounding rather confident and Jordan felt his entire body flush.
Isaac sounded a little different than he'd expected him to and it hadn't taken long to come to the realization that he was likely intoxicated. Probably just drunk, for Isaac hadn't seemed the type to experiment with harder candies. But on the other hand, he really didn't know the man as well as he wished he did.
"Oh?" Jordan finally replied, knowing without a doubt that Isaac was fishing for something and wondering if the older man would make him be the one to ask, or if he'd come out and say it.
"Would you be interested?"
"Yes." Jordan agreed quickly - perhaps too quickly, but he couldn't help but feel honestly interested in the invitation. Even if Isaac was a little drunk. He'd been around the sort before and not only did he trust himself, but part of him still trusted Isaac as well. There was nothing violent or malicious about him and despite feeling anxious to see him, he didn't feel scared.
"Great, where are you right now?"
"Down town." Jordan looked around the busy terminal. On the other side of the pavement, he noticed the bright lights of an incoming bus and looked at the sign at the front of it to check the route. "At the bus terminal. There is a bus going in your direction just about to pull up, actually."
"Nonsense, I'll call you a cab... - on me." Isaac added.
"It's really okay." Jordan said as he stood up, pulling his bag over his shoulders. "I'll be in your lobby in about fifteen minutes."
There was a short pause before Isaac replied. "Alright, sure."
"See you soon." Jordan told him and then ended the call.
Something about the idea of Isaac paying for his cab fare was off putting. He could reason that Isaac meant no foul by it, but he didn't want to feel as though he was being taken care of. Groomed. He could afford his own cab fare, but he had a bus transfer as well and a waiting ride. After showing the driver his transfer, he found a seat near the back of the bus. Most of the seats filled up and then the bus was on it's way and Jordan couldn't help but feel anxious when his mind began to turn out thoughts, pull up memories. Going to see Isaac, it couldn't help but remind him that the last time he'd been at this apartment, he'd been paid to be there. Visiting a second time under a completely different pretense... or at least, he thought so. Did Isaac expect something from him? He couldn't really be sure. And he supposed it didn't help that the older man sounded intoxicated. Jordan shifted in his seat, glancing around at the other occupants of the bus. No one he recognized, nothing amiss. Nothing interesting enough to distract him, either. Luckily or unluckily, as he felt his stomach tumble, the bus rolled up to the stop in front of Isaac's condominium building and Jordan pulled himself up. Once he was off the bus, he walked a few steps up the pathway towards the towering building and glanced up, remembering that Isaac lived on the very top floor. He fished his hand into the pocket on his coat and pulled out his phone, typing a quick message to Isaac.
"I'm here."
Not even a minute had passed before his phone buzzed. A reply from Isaac. "I'll be right down. Meet you in the lobby."
He let himself into the building, unable to shake the worry that he might be making the wrong decision. He reminded himself that he really wanted to know Isaac better as he passed the lazy looking door-man at the counter who hadn't even offered a hello. Glancing at the small leather couches in the waiting area, he debated taking a seat but then heard the sound of the elevator doors rushing open and sure enough, Isaac emerged.
A dark grey zip-up hoody paired with a well fitting pair of lightly coloured jeans and a bit of messiness to his hair, Isaac looked more comfortable than anything else and Jordan felt himself relax a bit. He felt better about his own denim jacket and his jeans, ripped a bit in the knee and stained on the thigh with a bit of floor cleaner that had seeped through his coveralls. He walked over to the older man and gave him a nervous smile.
"Hey..."
"How was work?" Isaac asked, flashing Jordan a smile as he pushed the call button on the elevator.
"It was okay..." Jordan replied, chewing on his lip a little. "I mean, it's boring but it's not bad. I can't complain." He shrugged and stepped into the elevator behind Isaac as the doors swung open.
Isaac nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. A job."
Isaac seemed more sober than he had sounded on the phone, but Jordan noticed a distinct sway, gentle but decipherable, in the way the older man stood. He was relieved that it appeared to be nothing other than the buzz of alcohol and Jordan felt a lot less nervous for that. Isaac was no violent predator, not vicious or aggressive in the way that some of his past clients had been. He hoped that Isaac too felt the way he did - as though he weren't really a client at all, but perhaps ... not quite a friend, but he would like to be. He would like to be a lot of things to Isaac. Unable to let his mind wander any further, he turned his head and felt his heart begin to race. The same glass windows that were nearly the entire height of the elevator, they had haunted him before with admittedly, a little bit of something in his system. But entirely sober, he still felt a shiver. He turned around quickly and hoped that Isaac hadn't noticed his weakness.
"You'll be okay." Isaac smiled, seeming to suppress a gentle chuckle.
Jordan blushed, feeling deeply embarrassed at his silly fear of heights. The elevator came to a stop after a moment and when he followed Isaac out, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved. There was just the ride back down to survive, of course. He supposed it would probably get a little easier every time he did it. But then the question lingered, just how many more times would he ride it? Everything would depend on the outcome of the evening that was about to unfold. No pressure, he told himself as he followed Isaac into his apartment with a knot in his stomach.
Everything was as he remembered it; leather furniture in the spacious living room and massive windows that consumed the wall. Outside, a beautiful view of the city, lights in every colour for as far as the eye could see. Granite counters in the kitchen with stainless steel appliances, Jordan's eyes still wandered the walls as Isaac led him through the den and towards the little breakfast bar. Isaac reached for one of the red leather topped stools and patted the top as he looked into Jordan's eyes squarely for the first time since they'd come in.
"Thanks" Jordan said softly, sitting down and leaning on the bar a little bit, feeling the exhaustion of his long day beginning to creep into his bones.
"Can I interest you in a drink?" Isaac asked, pulling down two glasses before he'd received a response.
Just one. Jordan told himself, licking his lips and promising himself that he would remain in control of the evening. "Sure, I mean." He smiled. "Yes, please, Isaac."
"I have everything. Just pick your poison." Isaac opened up the alcohol cabinet that sat above the gas range and Jordan felt his eyes widen slightly.
He wasn't kidding; the selection was vast. Rum, whiskey, brandy, vodka and wine. All of the usual culprits in a wide array of varieties. Several more spirits and drinks that Jordan didn't recognize. He wasn't sure what to choose; his usual choice would have been the whiskey or the rum, but he wasn't looking for the numbness that he used to need. He didn't feel as though he needed much; but a little something to take the edge off of his anxiety would be appreciated. Just not enough to lose control; he was determined to keep as much of his mind about him as he could. Besides, he needed to be able to find his way home later. He had a promise to uphold to not only his sister, but someone else as well. He would be home and in his own bed every night. Safe.
"I've also got beer in the fridge." Isaac smiled. "If you'd rather."
"Uhm, a beer sounds great, actually."
Isaac nodded. "Good thinking, actually. I'll join you." He added before turning around and putting the glasses back up in the cupboard.
Pulling open the fridge, Jordan watched as Isaac fished out two bottles from a brewery he'd never heard of. When Isaac cracked both open and handed Jordan one, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Isaac had great taste in beer.
"This is good." Jordan said after swallowing a large mouthful.
Isaac grinned. "I'm glad you like."
Jordan nodded and took another sip, unsure of what to say next. The confidence that he'd felt around Isaac the first time he'd met him was all but gone and he was hopeful that the older man could support the conversation a little bit. Just what did he want from him? Why was he being so nice to him? So many questions bubbled to the surface of Jordan's mind, but he hadn't had the courage to ask a single one.
"I'm glad you're here, as well."
Jordan felt a little shiver and he sat a little straighter in the stool, looking towards Isaac. Was he sincere? He wanted to trust him, but he still felt as though he didn't deserve to; he owed Isaac a lot of explanations that he hadn't yet asked for.
"Me too... though..." Jordan paused, nibbling on his lower lip and feeling the weight of Isaac's eyes searching his face. "I'm a little surprised that you sent me that text." He reached for his beer to avoid looking into the other man's eyes. He feared that if he did, he wouldn't like what he'd see.
"Well..." Isaac started and then his voice fell away. Seemingly nervous, Jordan watched as he took a long drink of his beer to pause. "I... wasn't really sure if I should, to be honest." Isaac's dark eyes sought Jordan's and he felt himself shiver a little. It wasn't that Isaac's voice was cold, but there was something about it that made Jordan feel guilty. He could only nod in response as a lump began to rise in his throat.
He hadn't been himself that morning - or, it was a part of himself that he hated. The morning after his very last night of work, it had been his longest and likely his worst. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn and his blood boil; so many feelings at once. Anger, hatred, anxiety, fear and nausea. He knew when the night began that it would be rough; telling his regular clients that he was through, making some last rounds. His most loyal John was the last of the night and Jordan had felt intuition gnawing at him as he waited on the door step. He left hours later, bloodied and bruised from the fight that had escalated after their last coupling. He had known it would be bad, but, he felt lucky to get out of the house at all. After catching a bus down town, he found himself seeking any sort of relief and had come across no one other than his favourite dealer. G had a little bit of everything, anything that you might want, might need. And what Jordan had been after, was something hard. A powerful painkiller that he'd once known as a friend but had pushed away. The pain, not only from the wounds but from the stress of it all had been enough to push him over the edge. He sought relief in the drug that filled his syringe. It had been a long time since he'd given into his darkest urges, he hadn't slipped up a single time since moving in with his younger sister, Jessica.
Jessica had saved him in more ways than one, she'd given him not only a place to stay in a safe neighbourhood far away from his clients, but she'd given him an unlikely friend. Her daughter, only eighteen months but full of life and love for her uncle had given him a reason to come home safe and sound - and sober, every single night. When he had lived on his own, he often came home with the sunrise and coming down from an injected high, all but ready to take more pills - different toxins - to put him into a medicated sleep so that he could wake up and do it all over again.
More than once, Jordan had made the mistake of spending all of his money for rent on drugs. It had never been intentional, he'd always thought that he could earn the money back from long nights on the street, extra 'favours' for clients and hopeful for large tips. But when the money didn't come, one too many times, his landlord kicked him out of his tiny one bedroom. After two nights in a homeless shelter where he laid awake, terrified of being jumped or robbed of what few possessions he had left - Jordan pledged to put himself first, and put drugs behind him.
With nowhere else to go, he had called his sister.
Unprepared for a new room mate, Jessica barely had room in her tiny two bedroom apartment, but she was unable to say no She even went as far as moving herself into Dylan's nursery and gave up her own room for Jordan. Of course, Jordan had promised it would be temporary, but it wasn't. And not only for the benefit of Jordan having a safe place to live, but Jessica was able to pick up a few extra hours at the dental office where she worked as a receptionist at the front desk. Child care was expensive and previously, Jessica had worked just two days a week, but Jordan was a reliable baby sitter who was home throughout the day and so Jessica started working nearly full time while Jordan watched her daughter - his niece.
It didn't leave Jordan a lot of time to rest and so he worked a little less and wasn't able to earn enough money to comfortably move out. All of the apartments that he could afford on his own were in the rougher areas of the city. The neighbourhoods in which his shadiest John's lived, the ones who he was thoroughly relieved to be through with when he got into the cab at the end of the night. When he'd lived on his own, he lived close to a lot of his clients. On more than one occasion, they'd offered to 'walk him home' and Jordan never went far without checking over his shoulder. Nights had been short, just a few hours of darkness - if any at all, but the streets seemed to never sleep. If you were desperate enough, you could find someone to sell yourself to at most any hour of any night during the week. Some Johns were the typical, the ones that scoured the bars, the ones who were rough around the edges. Others were polished and professional, working men, fathers, the ones you'd never imagine. They were all types, but they were all the same, as well. They all paid him the same money at the end of the night. In between clients, he'd have a cigarette or maybe a joint, but never anything harder. Those days were behind him. His working life and his personal life had started to become two very different things, and he realized that it would only be a matter of time before the edges would inevitably fray.
Moving in with his sister at the other end of the city had offered him changes and comforts that he'd previously taken for granted - a backyard, a quiet street, family. All waiting for him at the end of the night. All waiting for him when he came home for good.
Jordan knew that he'd come a long way, but he had no way to excuse his behavior the last night when he'd slipped into his old habits. What was worse, was the come down. The euphoric high had offered him the pain relief that he'd been seeking, but something about it wasn't what he had been hoping for. Wasn't what he remembered. And in a way, that was a good thing. It made it easier to fight the urge to go back to G and get more. He had to face home instead, and he knew that he couldn't do that without something to ease his system, to perk up his mind. Coffee. The last person he'd been expecting to see, of course, would be Isaac.
Silence hung between the two men for several long moments before Jordan cleared his throat. It was now or never. "I owe you a lot of explanations, but more importantly, an apology." He felt his voice tremble a little bit as he looked into Isaac's dark eyes. "I was having a really rough morning, but you didn't deserve that."
Isaac sighed softly and looked away, but only for a second. His eyes found Jordan's again just before he began to speak. "I wanted to ask you a lot of questions..." His voice trailed off and again, silence. Jordan shifted his weight a little, leaning against the counter as he waited anxiously for the older man to continue. "But now, there's really only one."
"What is it?" Jordan asked quickly, instinctively. There wasn't really time for fear or nervousness to sink in, whatever it was that Isaac wanted to ask, he felt willing to answer. It was only fair. He tried to remain calm, but his outward appearance was not overly convincing and Isaac smiled, despite himself.
"Don't look so scared." The older man said in a gingered tone and gave the blond a grin. "How do you feel about just starting over?"
"I'd like that very much." Jordan smiled, too.