guy.”
“See, Caleb,” Tanner said in helpful tones. “That’s a notch lower
than your first time.”
“The janitor was young,” Caleb said defensively. “Barely out of high
school, so we were practically the same age.”
“I’m sure it was very romantic,” Adrien said. “At least yours had a
job. And somewhere to sleep at night.”
Jace shut the textbook with a snap and set it aside. “Victor wasn’t
homeless. He had a room at his mother’s house, just like anyone else his
age. He just didn’t like staying there.”
“Every homeless person has parents,” Adrien said. He took a sip of
his drink thoughtfully. “It’s when people would rather starve on the street
than go home that makes them homeless.”
“He wasn’t homeless,” Jace said through gritted teeth.
Tanner raised an authoritative finger. “Technically, a teenager who
refuses to return home can be defined as homeless.”
“There you go,” Adrien said, looking pleased. “You slept with a
homeless person.”
“Fine,” Jace said. “That’s what you want to hear? No problem. I first
met Victor when he was begging for change on the street. I tossed some
coins into the old cup he was rattling around, and he stole my heart by
barfing on my shoes. Later, after I’d seduced him with a bottle of vodka
—which he downed in one gulp—we retired to his cardboard box. I
fucked him once he blacked out. That’s my story. Happy?”
“No,” Tanner said. “The stereotypes you are perpetuating do a
disservice to—”
“Shut up,” Jace said. “Unless you want to tell us how your first time
was screwing a hole you cut out of a textbook.”
Caleb giggled with glee, which made Jace feel a little better.
“You’re being very rude,” Adrien said.
“Me?” Jace said. “I’m trying to study. You’re the one dredging up
my past, something you wouldn’t do if you ever bothered to learn how
much Victor means to me. But you never bothered to ask, did you?”
“I don’t care,” Adrien said candidly. “If he was so important, he
would still be in your life.”
Jace was on his feet. “Oh, wait. You did ask me something when he
came to visit. Let’s see. You were drunk, and we were in bed. What was
it you wanted to know?”
“Shut up,” Adrien said.
“That’s right! You wanted to know if his dick is bigger than yours. I
didn’t answer you then, but since he’s not important, it won’t bother you
to learn the he is in fact bigger than you. In every way possible.”
Adrien shouted something in return, but the blood thumping in Jace’s
ears made him deaf. Jace stormed out of the room, slamming the door
behind him. He took a deep breath. Then another. When that didn’t work
he turned around and punched the wall. Unfortunately for him, it was
solidly built. The only thing damaged was his fist, which hurt like hell.
No, that wasn’t true. More of him was damaged than that, and had been
since he’d last seen Victor. The pain in his hand was nothing compared
to the ache in his chest that never seemed to cease.
Maybe there was only one cure. Jace felt his pockets. Thank
goodness he had his wallet and keys. His pulse switched gears, his heart
working harder, his breath coming even shorter, but it wasn’t anger that
propelled him toward the parking lot, into his car, and onto the highway.
Twelve hours north and he would be home again. Twelve hours until
Victor.
* * * * *
The problem with a long trip is how much time it allows for thought.
The problem with thinking so much is how it inevitably leads to doubt.
The drive out of Texas was easy, Jace spurred on by a curious mixture of
anger and love. The empty horizons of Oklahoma were harder. He had
finals next week, was supposed to be at work in a matter of hours. If he
turned around now, he would be late to start his shift, but he wouldn’t get
fired. And Adrien…
Well, Jace was still pissed at him, but he knew their problems hadn’t
been one-sided. Jace had been ignoring him a lot lately, and when he did
give Adrien his attention, he’d been irritable and moody. Try as he
might, Jace couldn’t seem to break the cycle. Looking past Adrien’s
imperfections used to be easy. Ever since Greg’s stupid stunt, it was like
Adrien wasn’t good enough anymore—a horrible feeling. Arrogant too.
Maybe he should turn around, drive back to Houston, and apologize to
him.
Or maybe he should keep driving and tell Greg off for ruining
everything. That’s what he would do!
This idea propelled Jace to the Kansas state line. Then he admitted to
himself that it was an excuse. He knew what he was doing, who he was
rushing to see. As the sun set, he gave into certainty. He would see
Victor. Tonight. Even if he had to plow the car through every forest in
Missouri, he would find where Victor was staying.
And then?
Jace grinned, feeling happier than he had in months, and pressed
harder on the accelerator.
* * * * *
The car pulled up to the pump running on fumes, the engine
spluttering to a halt when Jace killed the ignition. After all these years, it
wasn’t sounding too healthy. He’d have to check the oil while he was
there, but first—
Jace glanced toward the windows of Bernie’s to make sure he hadn’t
been mistaken when pulling into the parking lot. There he was, stripped
of his Army jacket and standing motionless behind the counter. Jace got
out of the car, struggling with mixed feelings. On one hand he was glad
Victor had changed. If he kept changing, no matter how long it took,
maybe there was hope for them yet. On the other hand, Victor was his
wild boy in the woods. That was who Jace had fallen in love with. He
didn’t want to see Victor here, think of him night after night, bathed in
cold florescent lights. Not for the first time, Jace felt the urge to rescue
him, to save him from all of this. But he didn’t know how.
By the time Jace reached the door, he could see puzzlement on
Victor’s face, and when he stepped into the store to the familiar scent of
microwaved hotdogs and the humming of refrigerators, that puzzlement
turned into joy.
“If I’m high, never let me come down,” Victor said. He was around
the counter, intent on giving Jace a hug, but restrained himself at the last
moment.
Jace wasn’t having that. He pulled Victor to him, roped his arms
around him like his life depended on it, and felt relief when Victor’s
hands slid up his back. He could have stayed there all night, breathing in
the faint smell of smoke in Victor’s hair. Let the customers come,
witnessing what true love looked like before leaving empty-handed. No
bottles of soda or cartons of cigarettes tonight!
“Are you okay?” Victor said, breaking their embrace.
Jace let it all show on his face, knowing he wouldn’t have to explain
in words. He almost felt hurt when Victor still didn’t understand.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see you,” Jace said.
“Well, yeah.” Victor chuckled. “I mean, what are you doing in
Warrensburg?”
“I just told you.”
Realization dawned on Victor’s face. “Oh!”
Jace suddenly felt sheepish. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah. Are you kidding?”
They grinned at each other. Now what? Lock the doors, turn off the
lights, and make paradise out of a gas station?
“My shift ends in an hour,” Victor said. “Unless you want me to pull
a Dan.”
“No,” Jace said reluctantly. If the store belonged to anyone but
Bernard… “Whatever happened to him, anyway?”
“Fired,” Victor said. “Bernard finally got tired of his shit. Last time I
saw him, he was working the McDonald’s drive-thru.”
“Over one billion customers sneered at,” Jace quipped. “Man, it feels
good to be here.”
Like home! His first job, the place he met Victor, and the setting for
countless other memories. A customer came in to pay for gas, so Jace
wandered the store and the back rooms, eventually sitting at Bernard’s
desk. Aside from the dates on the calendar, nothing seemed to have
changed. For once, that felt reassuring rather than suffocating.
When he returned up front, he and Victor whiled away the hour
recounting memories made there. This helped Jace relax, get used to
being in Victor’s presence again. By the time an older man came to
relieve Victor, it felt like no time had passed at all. After fueling up the
car, Jace asked where they were headed.
“Home,” Victor said.
Jace smiled. “Where is that this week?”
“I mean my mom’s house.”
“Oh. Okay.”
That took him aback. He imagined them driving to Jace’s old
neighborhood, sneaking down into the valley, and rekindling more than
one old fire. After all, it was nearly summer. Victor never stayed home in
nice weather.
They were parked in front of Victor’s house in no time. Unlike
Bernie’s Stop and Shop, it had changed, needing maintenance more than
ever. He wondered if he should volunteer to help fix it up over the
summer, or if that would be insulting.
“Can you stay in the car for a minute?” Victor asked. “Let me run in
first and take care of some things.”
“Uh, yeah. Of course.”
“Thanks.” Victor stepped out of the car, then bent over before
shutting the door. “It might be more like ten minutes.”
“That’s okay,” Jace said.
What was going on? Maybe Victor’s room was messy or something.
All Jace knew was that he was sick of being in the car. Funny how a
drive could be so taxing to the body when it mostly involved sitting still.
He leaned the seat back and rested his eyes.
—knock knock knock!—
Jace’s body jerked, his eyes shooting open. Victor was at the driver-
side window, his face somewhat drawn, but he grinned regardless. Jace
glanced at the clock. More than half an hour had gone by.
Victor opened the door, offering Jace a hand. “Come inside. Be quiet
though. Mom’s in bed.”
“So was I,” Jace said, feeling embarrassed.
Together they entered the house and crept down the stairs. In the dim
light, Jace thought the house appeared less organized. Maybe Mrs.
Hemingway was having back problems and couldn’t do as much as
before. His concern for her was forgotten when he entered Victor’s
room.
Here things had changed. All remnants of a child’s room had been
removed. No more old toys or stuffed animals. In fact, the room didn’t
hold anything decorative at all, no posters or art. The walls were empty.
Except for a lamp and a bed, there was nothing.
“Blank space,” Victor said, tapping the side of his head. “No
distractions.”
“Fine by me,” Jace said. All he wanted to focus on was right in front
of him.
Victor opened the high-set window. The sound of trees waving in the
wind preceded a gust of warm air. Victor kicked off his shoes, eyes on
Jace. Then he flopped on the bed and patted the spot next to him.
“Come tell me everything.”
Jace took off his shoes, placing his keys and wallet in them since
there wasn’t even a nightstand now. As he climbed into bed, he found the
last thing he wanted to talk about was Adrien. He didn’t even want to
remember he existed.
“Must have been a bad fight,” Victor said. “You two break up?”
“No.” Jace shook his head, gobbling up every detail of Victor.
Seeing him felt too good. “You still have that tattoo I got you?”
“No, I sold it at a garage sale.” Victor smirked, starting to lift the
sleeve of his shirt before he thought twice and took off the shirt
completely. “It’s getting a little faded. Like me, ha ha.”
Jace was glad for the excuse to get near him, his index finger
stroking the dark line the fox was running along. He could feel Victor
watching him and hoped his thoughts were more transparent then ever.
They were.
Victor pulled on one of Jace’s arms, forcing him to stretch across his
body and lay partially across his chest. The heat from Victor’s skin, the
familiar scent, the wiry chest hair—Jace felt like his senses were on
overload. He shifted, bringing himself closer to Victor’s face.
“Are we going to do this?”
Jace wished that Victor hadn’t asked. “I don’t want to cheat on him,”
he admitted, but his mind was racing to find a way. A hug wasn’t
cheating, so neither was the current nearness of their bodies. And surely
if a slap was okay, then the way Jace stroked the hair away from Victor’s
cheek was too. He let his fingers brush against Victor’s lips, substitute
for the kiss he couldn’t give. How could he justify that? Would he have
to? Maybe, if he never returned to Houston, none of this would matter.
Could he do that?
“You aren’t going to sleep in your jeans and shirt, are you?” Victor
asked.
Of course not. Jace stood and undressed with his back turned.
Everything but his underwear. He turned off the light before returning to
bed, letting himself be clumsy as he got under the sheets, his bare leg
brushing against Victor’s to discover his jeans were off too.
“Roll over,” Victor said. “Your back must be tense from that drive.”
Of course! A massage was safe. People did that for a living, a
respectable occupation, so it couldn’t be cheating. Hell, maybe they
could find some sort of chiropractic technique that would casually allow
them to get each other off. He was about to suggest they stop playing
games when Victor kneaded his back muscles, causing him to moan with
relief.
“How come you never did that in the old days?” Jace managed to
say.
“Because we were both more interested in other parts.”
That hadn’t changed, but now they were forced to explore other
options. There wasn’t much they could do. The massage simmered down
to Victor tracing a finger along his back. Then Victor scooted near, one
arm resting across Jace, his nose pressed against his shoulder. Only an
inch or two of space separated them. Not quite cuddling, but not quite
safe either.
“If you were going to be completely selfish right now,” Jace
murmured. “What would you do?”
Victor didn’t hesitate. “I’d ask you to stay here permanently.”
Not the answer he expected. Not at all. Victor closed the gap
between them, their bodies pressed together now, but he was tactful
enough to keep his crotch away from Jace. Had they crossed a line?
