Mason's Run
Page 17
“Sure thing, bro,” I answered. “Stay here, I’ll get the car.”
He nodded and I headed back to the Jeep. As I walked up to where I’d parked, I saw Nicki hovering at the door to the restaurant. As he saw me approach, he looked around, almost guiltily, then came outside.
“Is he okay?” He demanded as soon as we were in talking distance.
“Not really,” I said angrily. Kaine was one of the sweetest souls in the world, and this guy had thrown him away like trash.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on Kaine in the distance where he’d sat down on a retaining wall, facing away from the restaurant so he wouldn’t have to see us. I could see the pain in the kid’s eyes, a certain wistfulness as he looked at my brother. Somehow, I got the feeling he wasn’t talking to me.
“You should be,” I said angrily. One thing our moms had taught us growing up, you hurt one Devereaux, you hurt us all.
Nicki nodded, then held his hand out, a folded-up square of paper in it.
“I know… I know I don’t deserve his forgiveness,” he began, the paper trembling in his hand. His uniform shirt rode up his outstretched arm, and I glimpsed a small plus sign tattoo on the inside of his left wrist next to a bio-hazard sign. I knew what that tattoo meant.
My eyes flew to his and I saw the pain and anguish in his eyes. He saw my gaze on his wrist and anxiously pulled the sleeve down.
“Please don’t tell him,” he whispered. “I-I need to t-tell him myself,” he said. I eyed him and the still-outstretched arm.
“Do I need to make sure he’s tested?” I asked, feeling the steel in my voice, but not willing to soften in the face of a threat to my brother.
Nicki jumped, seemingly startled at the thought.
“What? God no! We never…” He stammered a moment before continuing. “We were just… kids.” He continued. “I wanted to… but he wanted to wait…” He blushed and stopped, realizing he had probably shared too much.
“Please, just… just give him this,” he asked, again thrusting the paper toward me.
I took the paper he’d held and watched as he went back inside the restaurant. It was one of those green-and white-restaurant checks that servers wrote your order on. I could see there was writing on the inside part. I stared at the paper a moment, debating whether I should read the note or not, but ultimately decided that should be Kaine’s decision, not mine.
I picked Kaine up at the end of the parking lot and drove him home in silence. When I pulled the car up next to the house, he reached to open the door.
“Wait,” I said, stopping him before he could jump out.
“Lee, I don’t really think I can handle a lecture,” Kaine said, his face dejected.
“I’m not lecturing you,” I said. I dug around in my pocket and pulled out the note. “Nicki gave me this for you.” I held out the paper. “I figured it should be your choice, if you read it or not.”
Kaine took the folded piece of paper out of my hand and stared at it for a minute then shoved it in his pocket.
“Thanks,” he whispered. Before I could say anything else, he was out the door and heading inside. I sighed. Well, shit.
I picked up my phone and stared at it a moment before texting a message.
ME: Bish, are you going to be home tonight?
BISHOP: Hey bro! Yeah, why?
ME: Can you check on Kaine? He’s pretty upset.
BISHOP: …What did you do?!?
ME: Fuck you. It wasn’t me. We ran into Nicki at a restaurant.
BISHOP: NICKI Nicki?
ME: Yep.
BISHOP: OMW
I sighed in relief. When I’d been deployed, Bishop and Kaine had become almost inseparable. I’d been a little surprised to hear from Kaine without Bishop today. Being adopted had let them share a bond that none of the rest of us could really touch.
It was almost five, so I figured I'd better head home. I’d left Mason a note earlier today and told him I’d be home by six. Shit. Mason. What was I going to do about Mason?
I sighed. I still didn’t know how to deal with this. Yes, I was attracted to him. I had been since I’d seen that picture of him years ago – something about his eyes had captured me back then. It had been strange even then, but I felt like we had some kind of connection. Something that made me feel like… he would understand a part of me that other people didn’t.
Connection or not, I also felt horribly guilty for what had happened, both last night and that night years ago. Even though I knew in my head that things would have happened anyway, that he might even have died if I hadn’t been there, another part of me wondered if he would have even been in that hotel room if there weren’t people like I had been, willing to pay money for sex.
The question was, was I ready to be honest about my past with him?
I turned on Sirius and listed to Imagine Dragons as I drove home, my skin soaking in the beat. Before I knew it, I was pulling into my own driveway. After I turned the car off, I sat there for a moment before walking to the front door. I knew I was stalling but I had a hard time getting my feet to move.
“Coward,” I murmured at myself angrily.
Key in the lock, I turned the handle and walked in. The first thing I noticed was an amazing garlic smell wafting its way through the house. I dropped my stuff on the floor of the entryway and walked into the kitchen. I spied Mason standing in front of the stove, one finger twisting in his hair, the other holding a spoon.
14
Mason
I saw the surprise on his face when he walked in.
“Um, Hi,” I said, waving the slotted spoon at him that I’d been using to stir the spaghetti. I realized, belatedly, I must look like a fucking idiot.
“It smells great in here,” he said, smiling at me before I could consider seppuku with the slotted spoon. Smiles were good, right? Friends smiled at each other. Maybe I hadn’t fucked up as much as I thought I had. Maybe I could still salvage something from this.
“I, um, thought maybe I could make dinner…” I swallowed nervously and continued. “…by way of an apology.”
I saw Lee’s expression change, but I couldn’t let him stop me from saying what I needed to be said. I was such a fool.
“I mean, I know I was out of line, last night and I shouldn’t have done it and I’m so sorry. I mean, god, I feel awful, I shouldn’t have touched you like that and I didn’t mean to do that, and it was wrong and… and awful, and…”
The confusion and puzzlement apparent on Lee’s face finally stopped the babbling.
“Wait, what?” he asked.
I knew my face had to be bright red by now. Dammit, I hated when I blushed! Lizzie and Everett both loved to tease me about it and I'd tried all kinds of things over the years to stop it. As I spotted my reflection in the stainless steel of the appliances in the kitchen, I realized those efforts had been in vain.
“Seriously?” I asked in exasperation. “You’re really going to make me repeat that verbal diarrhea?”
Lee bit back a bark of laughter at my peevishness.
“No, I mean, I just wasn’t expecting…” his hand waved at the kitchen and I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the meal, me, or what.
“That is the whole point to a surprise,” I said. “If you’re expecting it, it’s nowhere near as fun,” I teased, my eyes catching on his full lips that were twitching as he tried not to smile. Just then I heard the hamburger pop and hiss.
“Shit!” I said, grabbing the spoon I’d been using to stir the hamburger and rushed to turn the heat down before it burned. No one liked crunchy hamburger in their spaghetti.
Lee walked into the kitchen and paused as he saw the sketches I’d drawn.
“Mason, these are… amazing!” he exclaimed. he started to reach out to touch the sketches before stopping and looking at me. “Do you mind…?” he asked questioningly.
“Go ahead,” I said shyly. Even though I was used to people saying they liked my work, it wa
s never really clear to me if they were just doing it to be nice.
He scanned through the drawings on the table. Each held an image of a new character for the series. On each page was a full-length body drawing, next to it a couple of head shots of the character with various emotions on the character’s face, followed by one or two vignettes pulling detailed shots of something about each character – a hand here, an eye there, a close up of a boot or detail of clothing. Each was different, but each character was evidently part of the same story.
“These are really good,” he said, and I felt my cheeks warm even more at his approval.
“I usually do a whole reference book for the characters in my graphic novels so that I can refer back to it in case I can’t remember what someone’s eye color was, or if they were right or left-handed… that kind of thing.”
“Seems like a smart thing to do,” he said, nodding. “You are incredibly talented.” He looked at me as he set the pages down. “Now, come over here, sit down, and tell me what the babble was about.”
The heat in my face had started to cool a little, but at his words it went up a few more notches.
“I need to finish this…” I said, waving at the kitchen.
“Okay, then tell me what I can do to help,” he said.
“Um, set the table?” I suggested. “I wasn’t exactly sure where everything was.”
He slid my drawings to one side of the table then came over to the cabinets to get plates and silverware.
As he set the table, I mixed the last of the spaghetti sauce and hamburger together and pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. The actions felt so odd, and so damn domestic, I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it. This felt surreal.
By unspoken agreement, we didn’t really talk again until we’d used the bread to mop up the last of the spaghetti sauce. Though he didn’t say anything, the look on his face at the first bite of spaghetti was more than enough to make up for the effort of making dinner.
“So…” Lee began, leaning back in his chair as he finished. “Dinner was incredible. Thank you… You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate that you went to the effort. Do you want to tell me now what this was all about?”
I took a deep breath. I was supposed to be a goddamn adult. I could do this.
“I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night,” I began, unable to meet his eyes. “You were absolutely right, I was out of line, and it shouldn’t have happened.”
I couldn’t look at him as I spoke, because that felt like just too much. “I understand if you want me to leave but… I would really like to stay.” I looked up finally and the uncomfortable look on his face made me pause. “What?”
“You… You’re apologizing to me about last night?” he asked in puzzlement. “I’m the one who literally fell on top of you,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
My face flaming, I twisted the napkin in my lap as he spoke. He was being nice, but I remembered very clearly how things had gone.
“—But… I’m the one… the one who—” Fuck it. “I’m the one who was grinding my dick against you like some kind of… of animal and wouldn’t let you go when you tried to get away.” I got out in a rush.
“I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that, it was wrong and evil and I promise to stay away from you and—” I stopped as he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back from the table. On the defensive, I stood, too. I remembered all too many times being beaten while seated. At least if I stood, I had a chance to avoid a few blows.
In two steps he was standing next to me, his legs brushing mine. My eyes were locked on my hands, which had a death grip on the wooden chair back.
“Mason…” Lee said, one hand coming up and brushing against my face. I couldn’t help but glance at his face as I felt his thumb brush across my skin. “…you have some spaghetti sauce on your face. Do you mind if I get it?”
My mind couldn’t process what he was saying, and the sound of the blood roaring in my ears was so loud, all I could do was watch as he leaned forward and brushed his thumb across the corner of my lips, his eyes never leaving mine.
When he brought his thumb up to his mouth and sucked some invisible sauce from it… Oh god… my cock felt like it was going to explode.
15
Lee
The taste of Mason’s skin was amazing, and I knew in a moment that I wouldn’t be happy stopping there.
“Mason…” I watched as his eyes stayed glued to mine, his pupils dilated and his breath coming in sharp pants. My own mouth was dry as I whispered his name, struggling to control my voice, trying not to startle him.
“Mason, can I kiss you?”
His wide eyes had locked on my lips but darted back to my own. For a moment I was terrified that he wouldn’t answer, or would say no. I was almost dizzy with relief when he nodded shakily. I gently leaned in and pressed our lips together, gently teasing and probing the seam of his sweet mouth.
It was tentative at first, but slowly he responded to me. His mouth slid open and I slipped my tongue between his parted lips. One hand settled itself at his waist, the other slid into his hair, cupping the back of his head. The taste of him made me groan, certain that he had to be the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted in my life. Kissing Mack had always been hurried and heated, his mouth plundering my own in lusty demand. With Mason, his tongue met my own in a dance so delicate and gentle it felt like a butterfly.
I let him set the pace, continuing to kiss him gently for several minutes, then pulling away for a moment to give both of us a chance to catch our breaths. I swallowed hard, taking in the shy grin and beautiful abandon I saw on his face. He looked so incredibly fuckable at that moment: His hair was tousled from my gentle explorations, his cheeks were pink with arousal instead of embarrassment, his eyes still half-lidded with lust. I wanted to drink him in, bring him screaming my name, but I knew there were still some words we needed to say.
“Mason, you had nothing to apologize for last night. I was apologizing to you, and doing a poor job of it, apparently,” I chuckled wryly. “I was trying to say that I was the one who should have stopped—I should have made sure it was okay. When I said it was out of line, I meant I was out of line, not you.”
“Oh…” he said, his voice soft in wonder. “Oh! Seriously?” He asked, his eyes wide in surprise.
I nodded.
Something occurred to me then, something that might explain the awkwardness and confusion I’d seen on Mason’s face, and his reactions over the past couple of days. Thinking back to how he’d behaved today, how awkward and confused he’d been…
Given the life he’d had with Ricky and Dreyven, I knew Mason was no virgin. If nothing else, the medical reports from the doctors at the hospital confirmed that. When they’d thought I was family, the doctors at the hospital had detailed some of the trauma he had undergone over the years from his sexual partners.
“Mason…” I began, stopping for a moment, debating if I should ask or not, but decided ultimately it was probably the smartest thing to do, for both of us.
“Mason have you… have you ever had sex… ever had a lover?” I amended.
The sudden pallor and hitch in his breathing told me more than the slight shake to his head.
“It’s… complicated,” he said, sighing. “I guess the answer to that is yes and no…”
“Fuck.” I said, stepping back and taking a deep breath. “Let’s slow down—”
“No.” He said firmly, his hand gripping my shirt and tugging me in closer to him.
“No, I… I want this, Lee,” he said firmly. “I want this—” his hand gestured back and forth in the space between us. “I want this. Whatever this connection is between us. Whatever the reason is that I feel safe in your company, and know somehow that you would never, ever willingly hurt me. I want… you.” He said, his voice deepening as he spoke.
“But… there are some things that I want, no, need to talk to you about… to explain…” His voice
trailed off, uncertainty plain in both face and voice.
“You don’t owe me anything, Mason,” I began. “You don’t owe anyone explanations.”
A small smile played on his lips.
“I know… my therapist has told me that. But I also know there are things you—things I want you to know,” he said. “It might help explain some things… Like where I come from, and why I’m such a freak.” His smile disappeared and his eyes darted away from my face.
He looked so sad, but so determined, I would have done anything in that moment to make him smile again. I wanted to just say “I know,” and help him avoid all this. If I did that, though, I’d have to explain how I knew, and the fear of how he would react when he found out I had been a customer, one of the men who had paid to have sex with him, so I kept my lips sealed. True, I hadn’t known he was underage, or close to it at the time, but still…
“You’re not a freak,” I said, my voice brooking no argument. “How about we go sit in the living room?” I suggested.
He nodded his agreement and we went to the other room. On the way in, I turned the other lights down low and lit the gas fire. This fireplace wasn’t just for looks, I could feel the warmth of the blaze as I took a seat next to Mason on the couch, doing my best not to crowd him.
The light from the fire cast golden highlights on some parts of his face, deep shadows on other parts. The few minutes apart seemed to have brought back some of his nerves. He sat down on the far end of the couch, his knees drawn up to his chest, his fingers worried at frayed spots on his jeans, and as I saw his hands clench and unclench, this time I recognized the signs of an impending panic attack.
“Mason,” I said. When he didn’t react immediately, I said his name again, a little louder. “Mason!”
He jumped at my sharp tone and glanced at me quickly before looking away. The fear in his face made my heart stop. I never wanted this man afraid of me.