Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

about the pain he still had or the difficulty sleeping or how scared he was that something would happen to Daniel, alone and still vulnerable a world away. He would write about Mrs. Dankowsky downstairs and the pot of borscht and the cat. He bent awkwardly, holding the side of the mattress, and slid the box back under.
    As he made his way to the kitchen table there was a knock on the door. He sighed and reversed course. No doubt the very same Mrs. Dankowsky. He wondered what the cat had gotten itself stuck in now. So far he had removed its head from a tin can and its paw from a mousetrap, and had the scratches to prove it. Although both of those had been better than giving the soup-covered cat a bath. The cat had a death wish. Jacob reflected that if he lived with Mrs. Dankowsky, he too might long for oblivion.
    Jacob pulled the door open and stared blankly at the disheveled, tired-looking man on his doorstep.
    "Hey, Trip. Long time no see."
    "Oh, God." He froze. He had pictured this a thousand times. He had imagined saying something witty, followed by guiding Daniel inside for a hug, a passionate kiss, romantic words. And instead here he stood, struck dumb like some tourist looking at the Empire State Building. Like a man looking at something too wonderful to really be true. He reached out slowly, noticing without caring that his hand was shaking.
    Daniel caught it in his own, and the touch of those familiar strong fingers broke the spell. Jacob lurched forward, ignoring the pull in his hip that turned it halfway into a fall. Daniel would catch him. There was no fear left in him.
    Then he buried his face in Daniel's neck and Daniel's arms wrapped around him. He pressed his nose into that familiar skin, inhaling the smell of sweat and man and stale cigarette smoke. It took a moment to realize Daniel was murmuring in his ear, "Jacob. Trip. It's okay buddy, it's okay. Let's back up three steps so we can close the door, all right? Three steps, Trip."
    He let himself be guided backward, blind and stumbling because he wouldn't lift his face from the home it had found against Daniel. Daniel's arms supported him, wouldn't let him fall. The door shut with a thump he felt through his body, and they were safe and together, and he fell apart. Two-and-a-half years of pain and fear and being alone just poured out of him in deep tearing sobs.
    This wasn't what he'd planned. He was crying like a baby and couldn't stop. Couldn't fucking stop. What right did he have to cry? It was Daniel who had been through so much. It was Daniel who had written of death and dismemberment and horror as if they were part of his daily routine. Jacob had planned to be supportive and take care of his man, and instead here he was, barely able to stand, letting Daniel hold him up. He gasped and choked, trying to get a grip.
    "Hush, Trip, hush." Daniel's hand cupped the back of Jacob's head, cradling him. His other hand rubbed slow circles on Jacob's back. As Jacob shook with racking gasps, Daniel kissed his hair. "It's okay. We're safe now. You can let it out."
    "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice wobbled uncontrollably and he fought for control, biting his lip hard. He didn't feel anything, but he could taste the copper-sweet tang of blood in his mouth.
    "I'm not sorry about a thing." As Jacob's shudders diminished, Daniel eased back and framed Jacob's face with his warm hands. Jacob met those hazel eyes and his breath caught. Daniel slowly leaned in and kissed him.
    Oh, God, this was sweet. This was right and real and where he belonged, here in Daniel's hands. Any doubts that might have crept up on him in the years apart vanished with the touch of Daniel's mouth on his. They kissed slowly, leisurely. There had never been enough time for this. There had never been enough safety. Now he licked at Daniel's lips, remembering his touch, his taste, and Daniel opened for him on a sigh. Their tongues met, caressed. Daniel angled his head a little more to fit them perfectly together.
    They pulled back at last, mouths only a whisper apart, looking at each other. Then Jacob broke free of Daniel's hands and pulled himself together enough to drag a sleeve over his wet face and glare at the man. "So, not that I'm not glad to see you but what? You couldn't find enough change to make a simple phone call? No word for over two months, you bastard, and the last thing I knew you were still in Japan. And then you just turn up on my doorstep? No wonder you about gave me a