THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB
Samuel

Written by Lady Poetess
egiggles at moose-mail.com
/~bbp

Please do not reproduce on any website without permission. This
story has no resemblance to anyone dead or alive.

ONE

Jacob Benjamin Gyllenhaal had three things he wanted to do before
he turned thirty: he wanted to marry Samuel Elliot Page, he wanted
to run his own business, and he wanted to have at least three good
friends he could count on. He was content with his moderately
successful deli, especially since he had just opened the deli two
months ago. He was sure he had four friends he talked to regularly
and he was certain he could count on them in times of need. But he
was still thwarted when it came to Sam.

It was a Sunday afternoon and business was usually slow on Sundays
since the offices nearby were closed. As a result, Jake took time
off to join the group of men seated at the table. They were
newspaper people, not journalists but people that worked behind
the scenes, and they never stopped working, as the news needed to
be edited and polished for publication every day. But on Sundays,
they took lunch longer than usual. In their business, the proper
keyword to this is "power lunching".

Marc Blucas, a junior editor who was working his way up the ranks
due to his affability and diligence, was talking to Scott Wolf,
the junior editor of the entertainment pages who was just
transferred to the business pages. (Scott was still wondering
whether he had been promoted or demoted. He lacked Marc's way with
people and had difficulties even considering taking part in office
politics.) Despite Scott having started in the New York Times a
few years earlier than Marc, Marc now was the one showing Scott
how to navigate the landmine-filled scene of his new department.
In a way, Scott was very lucky - Marc would be a loyal and open
colleague as he was to everyone, and he would make sure that Scott
would ease into his new role with little difficulties.

After all, you didn't get demoted from the prime cushion positions
at the social and entertainment pages unless you had pissed off
somebody big.

But on Sunday, work could wait. Marc and Scott were discussing a
piece they were working on - gay men in business - but today, they
decided to enjoy themselves with the age old leisure activity:
gossip. Jake was reeled in because his beloved Mr Page was one of
the main topics of discussion.

"So who's gonna win the feeding frenzy?" Scott, a somewhat stocky
and boyish man, asked. "Poor Sam," he added. "It must be tough
seeing one's business empire crumble."

"It surely wasn't his fault," Jake declared loyally. "One man
doesn't destroy an entire business."

The other men grinned indulgently at him. "Probably. Finances were
already shaky from years of mismanagement when Sam took over from
his father. The fact that two-thirds of the main shareholders were
his father's people couldn't have made it easier on the poor man.
The stock market crash was the nail in the coffin," Matt said.

"I don't think there would be many that would be heartbroken,"
Scott said. "Carmen informed me that her interviews showed that at
least four men are fighting over what's left of the Page business
empire. It's odd, isn't it? I thought the company is finished."

"Not really," Marc corrected him. Quietly he made a note to pass
some of his economics textbooks to Scott. The man wouldn't last if
he kept being this na‹ve about the economy. "Don't forget that Sam
still has the name and the wide range of networking. Sam has also
invested in the business of Travis Schuldt. You know him, surely,
Scott? No? Travis is a strange man in that he worked at home, had
no office, but he was one of the most powerful men in America when
it came to trade in China and Southeast Asia - places where the
money was in Asia. By this default, anyone who owns Page will also
be able to enjoy Travis' connections to break into the markets in
those countries."

"Why doesn't Travis just buy out Page?" Scott asked.

Marc's spoon clattered onto the table. "I never thought of that,"
he said finally. "Yeah, why didn't he? Travis and Sam went quite a
way back, if I recall correctly."

That was it, Jake realized. This was one way he might help Sam.

Marc and Scott talked about the fight for Sam's properties and
holdings and speculated on the person that might emerge more
victorious than the other. But Jake stopped listening and began
planning in his head.

He would help Sam. Sam generously loaned Jake the money to rent
this place from Rupert Everett in the daytime to start his
business (Rupert only opened from six in the evening to three in
the morning, so Jake could use this place during the day). He felt
guilty for accepting the loan, since now Jake knew that Sam was
having financial difficulties when he signed the check to Jake,
and maybe now Jake could find a way to repay the man for his kind
gesture.

"Do you know where I can find Travis Schuldt?" he asked the two
men.

Marc looked questioningly at Jake.

"It's worth a shot. Sam is my friend."

"Really? Small world," Scott said, studying Jake over.

"A smaller world than you think," Marc commented absently as he
removed his pen from his shirt pocket and reached for a napkin. As
he wrote, he said, "My nephew Jared is friends with Travis'
boyfriend. Here is the address to Travis' place, but it will be
easier if you let me talk to Jared first. Jared can get Eddie to
persuade Travis to see you. Here's my number, call me tomorrow
evening and I'll update you on how it goes with my talk with
Jared."

"You're a very helpful bastard, Marc," Scott said in genuine
admiration.

"I just want to see a member of the family succeed, that's all,"
Marc answered. "We should all stick together and help each other
out, that's what I always believe."

Jake took the napkin Marc had written on and clutched it to his
chest as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Maybe it
was. If he could never win Sam's affections, he would at least say
he had helped the man in his time of need. That was what friends
were for, right?




TWO

His life was falling apart and he was helpless to prevent it.
Samuel Page sat in his office, the lights switched off so that he
could brood in absolute darkness, and wondered whether he could
find the strength to blow his brain out with the gun he had placed
beside his right elbow on the table. All this time, he had worked
so hard to show his parents that he was as good as they expected
him to be and more. What use was there? He tried so hard, but in
the end, he couldn't do anything to save the business.

He kept quiet as his parents blamed him for a mess they started
and expected him to clean up, just as he kept silent when they
accused him of disappointing them when he came out of the closet
on his twentieth birthday. Ah, Tim, he thought savagely,
remembering his college professor and lover that inspired him come
out that year. He thought he was in love with Tim and he would
live with Tim for the rest of their lives. What a fool he was. Tim
decamped the moment Sam's father offer to donate a huge amount of
money to Tim's department provided Tim removed himself from Sam's
life.

He had always been silent all these years, the obedient son who
tried so hard to be what everyone wanted him to be.

Yet at the first sight of trouble, these same people abandoned him
without a backward glance. His parents had always favored his
younger siblings who weren't gay, and now they acted as if he was
a diseased limb they would love to amputate if they could. His
boyfriend left him a Dear John letter almost a week ago, accusing
him of being cold and unfeeling, but Sam suspected that his
potential bankruptcy might be the actual reason for the man's
departure. Most of his friends refused to call him or acknowledge
his calls.

Sam was so tired of being alone, but he never realized how much he
was feeling weary until now. His family never wanted him, he had
no friends, and his own life was ruined. Maybe it was stupid of
him to pump his own life savings into trying to save this
business, but he did just that. He was bankrupt in all but name
only.

Not really, a voice in his head reminded him. Jake Gyllenhaal owed
him thirty thousand dollars. Sam could sue for that money. But he
wouldn't. Jake was an amusing young man, a friend of his younger
brother, and while Sam wasn't sure why he loaned Jake the money,
he liked Jake because Jake was earnest and dreamy. Maybe a bit
strange too, but Sam knew that Jake came from a background
different from his. His younger brother Aaron was the only one
still talking to Sam, but Aaron was a liberal activist currently
in Alaska protesting the drilling of oil there. Since Aaron was
the closest Sam had to a family and Jake was Aaron's friend, he
liked Jake. Maybe he even pitied Jake, because he suspected that
Aaron wasn't as close to Jake than Jake would have loved to
believe. Aaron's first love was activism. Hell, Sam suspected that
Jake was a charity case for Aaron. Befriending a penniless high
schoolmate was something Aaron would do out of some misguided
guilt of his own upper class status.

The phone rang, and Sam was thankful for the interruption of his
bleak musings. "Hello?" His voice sounded like hell even to his
own ears.

"Called your home but got your answering machine. I knew you'd be
at the office." It was Travis Schuldt, the Vampire as he was
called because of his eccentric tendency to sleep during the day
and work only at night. "I thought you'd be interested to know
that I just had an interesting visitor, Jake Gyllenhaal. He came
here to ask me to buy you out of your misery."

Shock was a hard punch in the gut for Jake. Once the initial shock
wore off, there was a disturbingly warm heat of pleasure in his
heart, threatening to drive away the ice in his soul. "Jake asked
you to help me out?" he asked just to be certain.

"Yeah. I told him it's not that simple, but he made a convincing
case. Look, Sam, I'm sorry I refused to help you, I had to take
care of my own interests - "

"Yeah, nothing personal," Sam echoed bitterly.

"But Jake's right. You're my friend, Sam, and I should try to help
you. Can I come down tomorrow and talk to you about this?"

Travis sounded contrite. "What did Jake say to you?" Sam had to
ask.

"Nothing but the usual hackneyed nonsense about friendship and
trust and being there through thick and thin. But he's close to
tears, Sam. That man must care for you a lot if he can cry for a
cold fucker like you. He makes me feel ashamed," Travis said
before trailing away, his own thoughts as confused as Sam's at the
moment. Finally, he just said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning,"
before hanging up.



"Thank you." The words came out in a rush. Sam tried to speak
slower. It wasn't easy. "Thank you, Jake," he said, this time his
voice unsteady as his heart seemed to be breaking and the agony
was killing him, making him feel alive. He walked into the man's
apartment, and Jake, surprised, moved out of the way.

Sam took in the apartment. It was small but surprisingly homely. A
nice smell of something baking completed the picture of
homeliness. He sat down on the couch. It was a comfortable couch.
Everything was comfortable. Sam smiled despite himself. It was
wonderful knowing that there was someone who would slay his
dragons for him.

"Why are you here?" Jake asked, absently shutting the door behind
him.

"Thank you, Jake, for talking to Travis." It seemed such an
inadequate statement compared to what Sam was feeling. "Thank
you." God, he was coming off like an idiot. "Thank you." He'd shut
up now.

Jake just smiled, and Sam found himself struck by the feline-like
beauty of that smile. For an instant, Jake's nondescript face
could be considered beautiful. When Jake's smile faded, Sam found
himself missing it with a keenness that disturbed him.

"I'll get you a drink," Jake just said before heading to the
kitchen.

Why did Sam feel as if Jake was fleeing from him? He frowned. He
was a nice guy. He'd show Jake that he could be a nice guy like
Aaron.

Jake wanted to help him. It was pathetic, but Sam had nobody who
treated him this way before - someone who tried to help him. Even
if Jake was doing this out of gratitude for the loan Sam gave him,
it was enough. On his drive here, Sam had mentally categorized
Jake as a friend. Sam hadn't had any real friends before, but from
today, he swore that he would be one worthy of Jake. He would be
Jake's best friend in the world.



THREE

"Good morning sunshine," Sam said as he walked into the kitchen.
He tapped Jake on the shoulders awkwardly, a too-brief contact
that sent suffuses of warm pleasure from where Sam's hand touched
his shoulder down his spine to flood his loins. Muscular, tall,
and gorgeous, Sam seemed oblivious to the way he was affected
Jake.

Jake wished he had worn underwear under his dressing gown. He was
already getting hard.

Last night was... how could he describe last night? They were both
awkward and self-conscious, he of how attractive the man was
sitting beside him and Sam, well, Sam just seemed unsure of how he
was supposed to react. Watching late night cable over cold
sandwiches and hot chocolate seemed like a bad idea, but
surprisingly, it helped break the ice. Sam laughed over bad TV
commercials starring faded TV stars and they had a good laugh
picking apart and arguing over movies as they watched some of the
worst shows on Masterpiece Science Theatre. Jake had pushed his
luck by resting his cheek on Sam's muscular pectoral, and Sam
delighted him by running his fingers through Jake's hair, until
Jake realized that the man had fallen asleep and Sam was touching
him probably out of instinct.

Jake couldn't resist slowly pulling up Sam's shirt to sigh at the
sight of those fine, taut muscles of his stomach and the tempting
furry trail leading from the man's navel. He wanted so badly to
touch, but in the end he pulled the shirt back down and closed his
eyes as he rested on Sam's chest, imagining that they were a
loving couple enjoying some quiet time together.

He had fallen in love with Sam the moment he visited Aaron and saw
this powerful, forbidding man. Sam was a romantic fantasy came
true: a loner, a hurt and tortured man who needed love, and a
darkly handsome man with a harsh, devilish visage all in one.

Jake had fled the party that day to sulk in the gardens because he
knew he didn't fit in with the rest of Aaron's friends and because
he was sure that Aaron's family hated him for being poor. He had
encountered this handsome man who was standing in the greenhouse
and naively assuming that the man was another guest bored as Jake
was, Jake struck up a conversation. Somehow Jake found himself
blabbing about Aaron's family.

"I hear the father is an asshole," the stranger said.

"Actually, I heard that he cheated on his wife," Jake confided
without thinking.

"I bet," the stranger said. "The mother looks like a bitch,
doesn't she?"

Jake nodded happily, glad to have someone to talk to. Only when
Aaron walked in and greeted Sam as his brother did Jake wanted to
die on that spot. But Sam seemed cool with Jake and he even danced
with Jake. In Jake's eyes, Sam was the most amazing man he'd ever
seen.

And now, Sam was in his apartment. Jake was terrified as opposed
to being delighted. What would Sam do now? Jake dared not imagine,
although he had ideas, ideas that caused his cock to grow as hard
as a burning brand of iron. He was glad that he was seated and his
cock, thrusting up from his crotch to press against the underside
of the table, was hidden from Sam's view. He was so painfully
aroused just by Sam's proximity that he had to surreptitiously
press his cock hard against the rough wooden underside of the
table just to ease the lusty ache.

"Coffee?" Sam asked as he opened the lid of the mug. He made a
soft sound of pleasure as he took in the fragrant aroma of freshly
brewed coffee. Jake's parents didn't leave him much money, but
they taught him how to make the best sandwiches, cakes, and coffee
in town. "I could drink this every morning," he said after gulping
down a mug full.

"I can make some for you and send it to your office," Jake
offered. His brain shut down by lust, he had no idea what else to
day.

"I'll probably take you up on that. Can you pass me the papers?"

Jake absently stood up to reach for the papers - and wanted to die
when his erection popped up in full view before Sam. "I - " he
wanted to say something, but at that moment, the sash of his robe
came undone and the heavy fabric fell back, baring his entire
frontal to Sam. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry," he began to say as heat and
embarrassment caused his eyes to tear.

Sam was silent for a few seconds. Then, his voice slightly
unsteady, he said, "No, don't be," quietly, his eyes never leaving
Jake's cock, before getting onto his feet. But instead of leaving
like Jake expected him to, he just pulled his shirt off before
getting onto his knees before Jake. And then his mouth was closing
over Jake's cock, and Jake lost all strength in his legs.

He had to hold on to the table for support as Sam worshipped his
cock. The man sucked and licked at the tip, coaxing forth
pleasures of the most refined agony from Jake until he couldn't
believe the foul and lusty curses coming from his own mouth. He
came in a hard climax, his pleasure intensified by Sam's voracious
swallowing of every drop he had to give. And then Sam was pushing
his own jeans down, and then he had Jake spread wide open on the
table. With one powerful thrust he possessed Jake. His powerfully
muscled thighs began their carnal rhythm, and later Jake would
marvel that the table didn't collapse under their savage fucking.

After their lust was sated, Sam bathed and changed silently as
Jake just sat on the table, wondering what they would do now. "Are
you sorry?" he called.

"No," came Sam's voice from the shower. "I'll do it again if I'm
not late in an appointment with Travis."

Jake was okay with that answer. Happily he began to get tidied up
himself. He had a business to run.



It was what Sam would say was the start of the best time of his
life as he spent the next few days with Jake. It was strange. They
didn't spend the whole day fucking like some romantic fantasy. He
had a business to save and Jake's deli consumed most of the man's
day. By the time they both stagger into Jake's or Sam's bedroom,
they were mostly too exhausted to do anything more than to sleep.
They made up for lost time on Sundays when Jake would open the
store later than usual and close earlier. Yet it was a routine Sam
could only describe as heaven.

He wondered how Jake could be so relentlessly supportive of him.
He had never received such blind faith and adoration before. Jake
seemed to believe that he could walk on water if he chose to. Sam
learned that he liked being adored, it was a nice change from
being depended on yet being disliked at the same time by the very
people that depended on him.

He had always thought that he would only belong to someone as long
as they found him useful. If only he knew how to be useful to
Jake. Jake gave him strength and confidence. Sometimes it scared
him how he was becoming more and more dependant on Jake for his
smile and quiet faith.

"Maybe we should live together," Jake suggested one night.

Sam was surprised by the near-paralyzing fear that choked through
him. "I don't have money any more," he said.

"How insulting," Jake teased gently. "You think I want you only
for the money?"

"Why not? Everyone does."

Now Jake was getting slightly pissed off. Sam could see it on the
man's face. But like a man who couldn't help it, he continued
putting his foot in his mouth. "Why would you want me if I am a
bankrupt fucked-up?"

"Maybe because I love you?"

"Love? But you don't even know me. You tell me you love me from
the start, but how can you, when you don't even know who I really
am?" Sam heard himself say. He should stop talking. He couldn't.
There were some things he had to know - such was what Jake really
wanted from him. "I gave you a loan, you helped me back. Or maybe
it's because you wanted a piece of me that you helped me. I'm
confused, Jake. Nobody wants me for me before, how do I know if
you're not just like everyone else?"

"No wonder everyone else dislikes you," Jake snapped. "I'm very
tempted to do the same right now. You always accuse people who
tell you they love you of being gold diggers?"

"Nobody has told me they love me before," Sam confessed
sheepishly.

"Not even your parents?" Jake asked, appalled at the sight of
Sam's bleak expression.

"I can't remember the last time they said that to me. Maybe they
have, maybe they haven't." Sam tried to shrug with a nonchalance
he was far from feeling. "Are you sure, Jake? Please, I need to
know."

"I know what people think of me," Jake told him instead. "They say
I'm a flaky strange type who is always going on about my crush on
you. I can't remember when anyone last told me they loved me
either, but that is probably because my parents were dead and my
friends... well, friends don't tell each other 'I love you', not
like lovers do. But that's where I'm different from you. I like
you, I find you attractive, and these last few days, I know that I
want to spend my life with you. Will we work out? I don't know.
But we can try. But I guess you don't see it that way. You want
promises I can't give you."

"Jake, I - " Sam's voice trailed off as he realized he didn't know
what to say to Jake.

"It's okay, Sam. Go home and think about this. But please have the
decency to call and tell me if you're breaking this off."

"Jake - "

"Get out of the bed. I need to make the bed."

"Hey!" Sam protested when Jake pretty much pushed him out of bed.
"I'm confused here. Give me a break here. You telling me you love
me isn't something I can shake off easily. It's a life-changing
event and I need time to adapt to this."

"Okay, so go adapt yourself." Jake whacked the pillows furiously
as he pulled the sheets off the bed. "Call me when you've fully
adapted, whatever that means."

"I like you, Jake. I think I even love you, but it's just that..."
He was scared, terrified. He hoped Jake would take pity on him.

Jake looked at him, and Sam realized that Jake wasn't angry as
much as the man was afraid. Afraid of what, really? That Sam
wouldn't want him? "I don't have money," he blurted out. "How can
I be useful to you? How can I stop you from realizing what a
useless fuck-up I am and throw me aside?" he asked Jake.

"I love you. I guess I'm only realizing now that that may not be
enough," Jake told you. "I don't know what to say to make you see
that I am not like everyone else you know. Maybe you need new
friends. Your current ones suck. If you don't want to be used, why
not move on to somewhere else where people like you for who you
are? All I can say is, you can start with me. But it's not my
decision to make, is it?"

Sam guessed unhappily that it wasn't. He wished that it was,
though. He wished that Jake could say a magic word and all in his
world would be okay. But life was fucked up in that way - it just
wasn't up to Jake to save him from himself. He could only pray
that he was the man Jake believed him to be.




FOUR

"No," Sam said later that day. "I'm not going to do this anymore."
It hit him out of the blue, the answer, but he didn't care how or
why it came to him only then. Jake's face and his words - "I love
you" - resonated through his senses all day long, and now, he
finally had the answer to what he should do. "I'll just dissolve
the company. If they don't agree, I'll resign and let someone else
run the sinking ship."

Travis gave Sam an undecipherable look. He was unused to being
awake so early in the morning. He had just spent the last twenty
hours working at sorting out some logistics problem in Korea over
teleconferencing and too many phone calls and emails. The last
thing he needed was another drastic change to his well-adjusted
schedule. "Please tell me you don't me to do anything drastic," he
told Sam.

"Nothing. You can cancel your loan to me. I'm selling the house
and the car and everything I can sell and I'll get Jake and me a
bigger apartment, big enough for the both of us. I'll help him run
the deli - "

"That will be a drastic descend from your old lifestyle." Travis
smiled. "Actually, I've been thinking myself. Eddie is always
nagging me that I work too hard, so I figured maybe it's time I
get someone to help me out. I'm a one-man international entreport
industry and it's wearing me out. You're the only guy I don't mind
working with. We could get an office - nothing fancy, you know
what a miser I am - and you can be my logistics executive."

"You will be a monster to work with."

"You will be a monster to employ."

They made a deal right there and then.



There was no turning back now. He knocked on Jake's door that
evening. "Hello," he said when Jake opened the door. "You're
right. I'm moving on. I've ditched my old job and I'm now going to
be the new and only employee of that cranky bastard Travis
Schuldt. I want to spend my life with you. I would be a fool if I
let you get away from me."

Jake smiled. "I just came back. I wanted to call you. It's not
fair of me to kick you out like that when I should have tried to
help you see - "

"No, feel free to knock some sense into me whenever I need it,"
Sam hastily assured him. "You want me, Jake, and now you've got
me."

Jake's answer was to throw his arms around Sam.



"Congratulations," Scott Wolf said to Jake who brought him and
Marc their Sunday sandwiches and coffee. "About you and Sam," he
added unnecessarily.

"Yeah, heard the great news from Jared," Marc said. "When's the
housewarming party? I'd like to meet Sam."

"You just want to get some dirt on the sales of the company," Jake
told them. "May I remind you both that you're editors, not
journalists?"

"I'm hurt. I do have altruistic motives from time to time," Marc
protested mildly with a grin.

"I think Crowe has an advantage over the others in this," Jake
told them. "If I were you, I'd send someone down to get the dirt
from that guy. You didn't hear that from me."

"No, we didn't," Scott said in mock solemnity. "So Sam's just
going to walk away like that, huh? I heard his own father is
threatening to sue him."

"He can threaten," Marc said. "But he won't sue. He's just doing
all he can to make sure that Sam trots in line to his order. That
fool has no idea that in the end he will lose Sam permanently.
Maybe he doesn't even care."

There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that stopped Jake from
asking how the man could be so sure. Maybe even a Boy Scout like
Marc had skeletons in his closet.

"Don't feel guilty about you coming between him and his family,"
Marc told Jake. "You didn't come between them. What happens
between Sam and his family is something that only they can mend,
and even then, the decision is not yours to make. Some things
can't be forgiven, Jake, and there are things about your lover
that you have no say in. Just don't give him any reason to regret
giving them up for you."

Scott was looking at Marc with a melancholic expression on his
face. Jake watched the two men, for the first time wondering if
the bond between those two ran deeper than mere friendship. But
both men were wearing rings on their fingers that didn't match.
They were friends then, very good friends.

"I'm sorry." Marc laughed weakly, trying to dispel the heavy mood.
"I don't know what came over me."

"More coffee?" Jake asked.

"Yeah. And maybe you can bring us some chocolate cake while you're
at it," Scott told him.

Marc smiled and nodded. "Decaf for me please."

They never mentioned Marc's moodiness, and Marc never showed that
side of him to Jake again. Jake invited them both to his
housewarming party, but Marc at the last moment called to say that
he couldn't make it. Marc was content to let the relationship
between he and Jake remain cordial and Jake let it be. Maybe the
man was embarrassed that Jake saw a part of him that he wanted to
keep hidden, maybe he had some dislike of Jake that he kept very
well hidden - whatever Marc's reason was, he always kept a
distance. Jake didn't take it personally. Marc tended to keep
everyone at arm's length, Jake noticed that now. If Marc was nice
to you, he did it strictly on his own terms. Only Brian Krause,
Marc's partner, seemed to have the sole luxury of crossing that
distance.



Sam though Marc a boring bastard and Scott a whiny buffoon. He
gave the paper an interview and arranged interviews with the paper
for some of his business acquaintances (some, like Russell Crowe,
had to be 'persuaded' to give his consent) and made sure that Marc
and Scott got the credit for them. Any friend of Jake was a friend
of his, and besides, he liked those two guys.

He played basketball and baseball regularly with Marc.

Sam never bought a new car to replace his old Porsche. He took the
train and tolerated rude and obnoxious cab drivers instead. His
new apartment was modest and furnished sparsely, but it was enough
for him that it was a comfortable home for the both of them.

Travis threatened to fire him every other day and he threatened to
quit. They worked together just fine.

In his spare time, he helped Jake put the accounts for the deli in
order. He even suggested franchising, but Jake wouldn't hear it.
He wanted to run his business his own way, and Sam could stay the
hell out of it. But he'd appreciate it if Sam kept working at
Jake's books. Jake hated accounting; he'd rather make sandwiches
and latte.

He still had lunches with some old acquaintances from time to
time. But he liked where he was now. He was with Jake, content and
happy, and he missed very little of his old lifestyle.

It sounded corny, but with Jake, he believed that he had finally
found a home where he belonged.