by TJ Klune
Dad shook his head as he took off his coat, hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He rounded the table, resting a heavy hand on the back of Nick’s neck. He bent over and kissed the top of Nick’s head before going to the fridge. “How’s the homework coming?”
“Good. Fine. Almost done.” Not really, but there wasn’t anything due Monday. He had time.
Dad pulled Tupperware from the fridge. Lasagna from Mary Caplan. Mostly edible, but it had weird chunks of something in it that Nick never wanted to put in his mouth again. Mary was an awesome lady, but her cooking left something to be desired. Nick swiveled in his chair to watch Dad put the container in the microwave.
Dad turned, resting against the counter as the Tupperware spun in the microwave. He arched an eyebrow at his son. “So, more people know now.” He looked uncomfortable when he added, “And I know you have questions about … a lot of things. What Trey said. And I want you to know he has a point, as hard as it was for me to hear. Whatever Gibby’s and Jazz’s parents decide, we need to respect their decisions because—”
“Simon Burke,” Nick blurted.
Dad stiffened, eyes narrowing. He crossed his arms, the sleeves of his button-down straining against his biceps. “What about him?” He stared at Nick, and Nick didn’t dare look away for fear he’d miss any sign Dad might accidentally let slip.
“You knew him.” Saying those words was harder than Nick expected it to be. “Before.” He pushed through it, even though it hurt. “You and Mom—you knew him.”
Dad’s expression gave nothing away. “Who told you that?”
Not a denial. And that made Nick feel worse, because it meant Burke hadn’t necessarily been lying. It didn’t mean Dad had lied, not quite. More that he’d kept something from Nick. And maybe that hadn’t mattered before everything had come to light about Seth and Owen, but it sure as hell did now.
He could drop it. He could tell Dad that it didn’t matter, that he was just happy he was home. He’d feign being tired, not that it’d be too much of a stretch. He’d go upstairs and put it out of his mind.
But Burke’s voice was in his head, saying Jenny Warren, the words tinged with unmistakable affection.
Nick said, “He picked me up on the way home in his ridiculous car and said some stuff about you and Mom.”
Whatever reaction he’d expected—outrage, denial, something—wasn’t what he got. Dad’s face twisted as he stepped forward, gripping Nick’s chin, turning his head left and right before sliding his hands down Nick’s arms as if checking for injuries. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”
Nick pulled himself out of Dad’s grip. “Chill. He didn’t do anything to me, aside from basically kidnapping me. Except he was a bad kidnapper because he brought me straight home. It only lasted a few minutes.”
That didn’t seem to make Dad feel better. He crouched next to Nick as the microwave beeped at them. They ignored it. “Every word. Kid, tell me everything he said.”
Nick hesitated before doing as he was told. He told Dad everything he could remember. He even thought about telling him about the broken light, but it was an ancillary detail.
By the time he’d finished, Dad was pale, eyes burning like hot coals. He’d rested one hand on Nick’s knee, gripping tightly. “Did you take your medication?”
“What?”
“Your meds,” Dad said. “When was the last time you took—”
“This morning,” Nick said slowly. “Remember? You gave it to me at breakfast, just like always. We already talked about this at Seth’s house.” Weird. Why the hell would he bring that up now, of all things? Unless … “Did you know? That Concentra came from Burke Pharmaceuticals?”
No reaction, face stony. “They make everything, kid. I’m not surprised. But of course you took your pill. It must have slipped my mind. It’s been a long day.” He squeezed Nick’s knee. “Yeah. We knew him. Your mother, she—” He closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t call it dating. At least, that’s what she said.”
“Oh my god,” Nick whispered. “They were friends with benefits?”
Dad’s eyes flashed open. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Nicky. They went out a few times. It never turned into anything serious. By the time I met your mother, it was already on its last leg. And even though my opinion of Burke isn’t the greatest, it has nothing to do with how he treated your mother. He didn’t hurt her, didn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do, so don’t go down that road.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asked. “After everything that happened?”
“This was years before you were even born. Your mom and I, we loved each other a lot. We got so wrapped up in each other those first couple of years, we sort of blocked anything else out. Burke just … drifted away. We weren’t as good of friends as we could’ve been. He didn’t seem to mind, at least not that we knew. He had his own thing going on, and then he met the woman who became his wife and moved on from us. It happens, okay? People change.”
“Paths diverge,” Nick said. Just as Burke had said.
Dad nodded. “That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to you and Seth, or Jazz and Gibby. But even if it does, it’s okay. What you want now might not be what you want in the future.”
That alarmed Nick more than he expected. “I’m always going to want what I have now. Did their parents say something to you? I swear to god, if they try and—”
“Make decisions they feel are best for their kids?” Dad said. “Because if they do, you’ll respect whatever choice they make. It’s not up to you, Nicky. They have a right to protect Gibby and Jazz however they see fit.”
“I know,” Nick muttered. “But Gibby and Jazz are old enough to make up their own minds. We’re practically adults.”
“Oh boy,” Dad said. “Let’s talk about the practically part of that sentence.”
“Did she love him?”
Dad was fluent in Nick, so he wasn’t caught off guard by the conversational whiplash. “No, kid. Not in the way you’re thinking. She cared about him. I did, too, but he wanted different things.”
Nick nodded sagely. “I asked him if he was in a polyamorous relationship with you and Mom.”
Dad gaped at him.
Seriously, what a drama queen. He was acting like that wasn’t a plausible line of thinking. “What? We’re very progressive in this household.”
Dad managed to recover. “Really. That’s what you think is progressive.”
“Hey, I don’t judge. For all I know, you and Mom were freaks in college.” He grimaced. “I take that back; I don’t want to know if you were. I’m pure and innocent and I can’t have those images in my head.”
“Uh-huh. I hate to break it to you, kid, but no one in our neighborhood will ever think you’re pure and innocent again.”
“You monster. You’re lucky no one called child protective services on you.”
“They can have you,” Dad said. “No refunds.”
“Bullshit,” Nick growled. “You’d miss me too much. You need me to take care of you.”
Dad softened as he stood, taking a step back. “Yeah, I suppose I do, huh?”
“You’re not getting any younger,” Nick reminded him. “You gotta watch your cholesterol levels. Don’t make me call your doctor again.”
“I still can’t believe you did that,” Dad muttered. “Can you make me a promise?”
And because he loved his father, Nick said, “Anything.”
Dad looked down at him for a moment before nodding slowly. “Stay away from Simon Burke, okay? I don’t want you having anything to do with him.”
Nick said, “He picked me up. Why would I—”
“Promise me,” Dad said. “This is important, kid. Given all that’s happened between you and Seth and Owen, we don’t know what Burke wants. And until we find out, I want you to be careful. Can you do that for me?”
Nick hesitated, warming slightly at Dad’s use of the word we. It meant they were a team. Of cours
e he wouldn’t have anything to do with Simon Burke. Why would he? Owen had made terrible choices, but how much of it was because of his father?
“What happened between you?” he asked finally. “What did he do that—”
Dad turned toward the microwave, but not before Nick saw his jaw set. “It’s in the past, Nicky. Do what I’m asking, okay? And keep this between us. Don’t tell the others about Burke or what he said. I don’t want it being blown out of proportion.”
“Okay,” Nick said quietly, knowing the conversation was over. But he still had to try. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
“I would. Let’s eat. We’ll choke down the lasagna together in front of the TV. Sound good?”
It did.
It wouldn’t be until later—much later, when everything had changed—that Nick would realize how neatly his father had deflected.
* * *
Dad went to bed earlier than usual after telling Nick not to stay up too late. Nick followed shortly after, trudging up the stairs to his room. He thought about trying to work on a new chapter of his fic, but when he sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, he found himself researching the best ways to launch a new brand. He wasn’t surprised when he ended up on Cosmo again, reading an article about TEN CRITICAL SUCCESS FACTORS IN LAUNCHING A NEW BRAND IDENTITY FOR BUSINESSWOMEN. Damn his luck for being born male. He’d make an awesome businesswoman.
He’d only made it partially through the list, when he heard a tap at his bedroom window.
His window on the second floor.
He looked over slowly, heart rabbiting in his chest. The window was dark. Snow fell past it, catching the low light from the streetlamps below. A bird, he told himself. It was just a bird. Or flecks of ice. He turned back toward his laptop, trying to calm himself. Screw Simon Burke for messing with his head. He was making Nick paranoid.
The tapping came again.
Nick reached into his backpack, grimacing as his fingers slid through the remains of an exploded lip balm before finding what he was looking for, fingers closing around a cold metal canister. He hadn’t yet had an opportunity to use the Mace, but if there was a villain outside his window, Nick was going to make them wish they’d never been born. And then he’d scream for his dad to save him. Solid plan.
He pressed himself against the wall with the window, inching over slowly. He stopped next to the window, just out of sight. He brought the Mace up, kissed the top of the canister, and said, “It’s time to take out the trash.”
Nick spun in front of the window, jerking it open with one hand, cold air washing over him as he thrust the Mace outside.
Nothing. There was no one there.
He leaned his head out the window, looking down at the street below. The sidewalk in front of his house was empty. He shivered as snow fell onto his hair.
“Yeah,” a voice said from above him. “I knew it’d be a good idea to not stay in front of the window.”
Nick yelped as he bumped his head hard against the windowsill. Frowning, he leaned back out the window, twisting at an awkward angle to look up. There, sitting on the edge of the roof, was a sight that set Nick’s heart racing again.
Pyro Storm.
Except his helmet was removed, and it was Seth smiling down at him, cape fluttering around him, his feet dangling as he kicked them out.
“Texting is a thing,” Nick told him. “You could have warned me you were coming over, so I didn’t think I was about to be ambushed.”
Seth laughed, a sound Nick dared anyone to try to say wasn’t the best thing in the world. Nick gasped when Seth pushed himself off the roof, floating down until he was in front of him, the tips of his ears and nose pink from the cold. No matter what he’d seen in the last few months, Nick still wasn’t used to the sight of Seth Gray being able to fly. He’d asked Seth repeatedly if he could carry him and fly around the city, to which Seth reminded him he didn’t have superstrength, and Nick was heavier than he looked. That had led to an argument where Nick declared it wasn’t his fault he liked shredded cheese on most things, to which Seth replied he didn’t mean it like that, and then they’d somehow started making out and things had gotten a little hazy after that.
Still. A sight to see.
“At least you’re prepared,” Seth said, a few feet away from the window.
Nick glanced down at the Mace before shrugging. “Gotta be. It just so happens the hero of Nova City is my boo, and I—”
Seth groaned. “I told you not to call me that.”
“Yeah, dude, not gonna happen. That’s what you are. My boo. My superpowered love button. My—”
Seth said, “I got you a Valentine’s Day present as a way of saying sorry we didn’t make it to dinner.”
Nick, knowing he was being distracted, said, “What? Give it to me now. Please.”
Seth flew a little closer. Nick could feel the heat radiating off him. The snow hissed as it melted against Seth’s costume, rivulets of water falling down his broad shoulders and strong arms and—
“I’ve had wet dreams that started just like this,” Nick whispered.
Seth dropped a couple of feet.
“Um,” Nick said. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Seth said faintly as he rose back up.
“Present,” Nick demanded, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers.
Seth rolled his eyes but did as he was asked. He reached out with a gloved hand, setting a plastic package against Nick’s palm. He looked down. Mango-flavored Skwinkles Salsagheti.
Nick—in a choked voice that he’d deny forever and ever—said, “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever gotten me. Thank you.” He looked up at Seth, narrowing his eyes. “Are you trying to buy me off for leaving me behind to answer invasive questions by accountant hippies and rich parents?”
Seth grinned at him. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Barely,” Nick said. “And I’m not happy about how easy I apparently am, but that’s another matter entirely.” He batted his eyelashes. “Perhaps you’d like to come inside and see just how easy I am.”
Seth stared at him. “Wow. That was … something.”
Nick groaned. “It sounded sexier in my head. Let me try again. Hold on.” He stood upright, puffing out his chest, hands on his hips, the candy wrapper crinkling. “Hey. Nice to see you. Let’s discuss making out for the next thirty minutes and see where that—oof.”
His breath was knocked from his chest as Seth flew through the window, tackling him and knocking him off his feet. He braced himself for the hard impact on the floor but opened his eyes when no jarring crash came. Seth had wrapped his arms around him, holding them both a foot off the floor. They hung suspended for a moment before Seth lowered them down gently, settling on top of Nick, cape falling over them like a blanket.
“Hi,” he whispered, brushing his nose against Nick’s.
“Hi,” Nick whispered back. “Not that I don’t appreciate the late-night visit, but what’re you doing here? Dad said you guys finished hours ago.”
Seth shrugged, a thick curl hanging on his forehead. “I wanted to see you. I didn’t like how our plans got ruined on top of everything else.”
“It’s okay,” Nick said, letting him off the hook. “I kinda screwed up too, so let’s just call it a wash.”
Seth’s smile faded. “It’s not okay. I don’t want you thinking I don’t need your help. It’s not like that at all.”
“I didn’t think that.” He sighed when Seth arched an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe a little bit, but you’re right. I can’t do what you can.”
Seth rolled off him, lying on his back next to Nick, their shoulders pressed together. He turned his head just as Nick did, their faces only inches apart. “I know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And then I had to go before we could work through it.”
“That seems to be happening a lot lately,” Nick admitted. Seth winced, and so Nick added quickly, “I know you ha
ve an important job to do. People need Pyro Storm; I get it. I’m not mad about that.” And it was mostly the truth, though it was still wrapped up in that complicated knot in Nick’s chest, tangled with love and jealousy and a thousand different things he didn’t always understand.
“It’s not fair,” Seth muttered, taking Nick’s hand in his own. Seth’s glove was slightly wet from the snow, but it was warm. “You know I’d rather be with you than be anywhere else.”
He did, but it helped to hear it said out loud. “I know,” Nick said, squeezing Seth’s hand.
Seth turned his head to look up at the ceiling. He raised his free hand above them and wiggled his fingers. Nick’s eyes widened when a small bloom of fire appeared. Seth waved his hand slowly from side to side. The fire followed, elongating as it took the shape of a miniature comet. The heat of it was comforting, familiar. He closed his fist and the fire snuffed out, leaving behind a wisp of smoke and the subtle scent of burning air. He dropped his hand back to the floor. “Things are changing, Nicky. More people know now, but I can deal with that. It’s everything else that scares the crap out of me. Pretty soon, we’re going to start applying for college. I don’t know where we’ll all end up.”
Alarmed, Nick said, “You still want to go to the same school, right? I mean, it’s totally cool if you want to do something else.” It wasn’t cool at all. He should’ve texted Jazz to see how she was holding up.
“Yeah,” Seth said. “You and me, okay?” He looked over at Nick again and kissed the tip of his nose. It tickled, and Nick squinted against it. “But I have to think about what I want too. Am I going to be doing this when I’m in my twenties? My thirties? Someone is always going to need saving. And who am I to turn my back on them, you know?”
“You’re not alone,” Nick said, leaning his head against Seth’s shoulder. “We’ve all got your back.”
Seth exhaled through his nose. “I know, but sometimes I want to be selfish. What about me? I don’t know what my future is supposed to look like. There are days when I imagine I’m not Pyro Storm anymore. Where I get to do stupid things before I grow up and get a job and pay bills. Normal stuff. I want to be able to go out with you and our friends for Valentine’s Day and not have to worry about being called away. Is that fair?”