by Jane Davitt
It became clear immediately that the entire diorama was trashed, destroyed, ruined. But Jay didn’t want to believe it and kept touching different parts of it in the hopes he’d find that it wasn’t as badly damaged as he thought. Maybe the left side of the base… No, it was sopping, and his questing fingers did even more damage because the whole thing had gone soft like a cracker that had fallen into the sink. At first glance it seemed fine, looked whole, but as soon as you touched it, it just collapsed.
Okay, so no touching the base. He turned his attention to the rest of the landscape, to the tiny buildings painstakingly crafted from a variety of materials including balsa wood and resin pieces he’d modified, now half washed away. They hadn’t been able to stay in place with the onslaught of the flood, and while a couple of them might be salvageable, it might be as long as a week until he’d know for sure.
“Jay?” Austin came up and joined him, bare feet splashing through the water on the floor. “Oh shit. Okay, hang on, let me see if I can get the water to stop—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jay said dully, numb in the face of damage he couldn’t possibly repair in the time before the competition. “It’s ruined.”
“We can fix it. I’ll help.” Austin was over on the floor, kneeling next to the place water was pouring out of, mindless of the fact that he was getting soaked. “Damn it, this thing is ancient. Why didn’t I ever look at it before? Bring me that chair. At least we can redirect it. Jay? Never mind, I’ll do it.”
Jay stood there as Austin used the back of the old, ratty sofa chair as a shield, then disappeared back downstairs. He could hear Austin moving around, dragging things, talking on the phone.
“Okay, he wasn’t too happy about being woken up, but Mr. Dalhover is sending some emergency plumber guy over. What can I do now?”
Jay looked at him in despair. Austin was being helpful, sympathetic without gushing, clearly determined to rise to the occasion.
And it didn’t matter, any of it.
“There’s nothing you can do. Nothing.” Anger with no focus welled up, as destructive as the flood itself. With an inarticulate sound, he swept his hand through his diorama, feeling it cave and crumple. A sharp edge that’d once been part of a bridge, arching up in a stunning, truncated sweep, cut his forearm, but as he watched the work of weeks fly off the table to land with a soft, anticlimactic thud on the wet floor, he really didn’t care.
“Jay!” Austin had tried to catch the diorama as it fell but failed. He raised horrified eyes to Jay’s face. “We could’ve dried it out, maybe salvaged some of it—”
Jay shook his head as Austin spoke, a slow rejection that eventually dried Austin’s words up at the source. “You don’t have a clue. I know you’re trying to be nice, but just…don’t.”
Blood was welling up on his arm from the ragged cut. He ran his finger through it, smearing it across his skin. The cut hurt, but it was a distant pain. The agony of loss filled his vision, leaving no room for any other pain to register. He glanced down. Naked. That was why he was shivering in the warm attic.
“I’m going to get dressed. We need to shut off the water. I think it’s in the basement? And tell the neighbors, wake them up…” His voice trailed off. That sounded like too much work, all of it. What he really wanted to do was crawl back into bed or just walk out the door and leave the mess behind.
“Shit, I didn’t even think of the main water shutoff. I don’t know where it is. I’ll have to go see. You go let Nicole know what’s going on.” Austin went away again, leaving Jay alone in his misery, which was exactly where he deserved to be.
If he’d been asked to imagine the shittiest possible day, he probably wouldn’t have been able to come close to this. Hours went by and felt like days as they dealt with the plumber and the landlord, and with calling in to work. Jay told them he’d try to make it in for the afternoon but that he couldn’t make any promises.
“They don’t want us using the washer and dryer in case the electrical is compromised,” Austin said when Jay wandered into the bedroom. Austin was wadding damp bedding into a trash bag obviously intended to serve as a makeshift laundry hamper.
“Yeah. Mr. Dalhover said we can stay at a hotel and he’ll reimburse us.” Normally Jay would have been stressed at the thought of leaving all his stuff—he was trying not to think about the books that were probably ruined, because that would make him really crazy—but right then it was hard to care about that.
“I texted Liam, just so he’d know what we’re dealing with in case Friday’s impossible.” Austin sounded disappointed but resigned. Jay hated when Austin was resigned.
“I’m sorry.” It was inadequate, but it was all he had right then. He wanted to huddle up to Austin, breathe in his familiar scent, and just hold on, but that seemed as selfish as the rest of his behavior.
“For what?” Austin paused, a sheet half-in, half-out of the trash bag, a puzzled look on his face. “Jay?”
“I let you deal with everything. I went to pieces. I was just… Fuck, I was useless.” Jay gestured at the chaos. “This is your stuff too, and I’ve been acting like I’m the only one who’s lost anything. I suck, and you’re too nice to even come up to me and tell me to snap out of it.”
Austin dropped the bag and came over to him. Deep down, part of Jay had known he would, and yeah, that was selfish too, interrupting Austin and shamelessly begging for comfort. But it was that or add to the humidity by crying. Jay didn’t think he’d be able to stop if he started.
“You are not useless,” Austin said, his hands cupping Jay’s face so Jay couldn’t look away. “You lost it at first, yeah, but there’s no one on the fucking planet who’d blame you for that, and you were helping Nicole put out buckets ten minutes later.” He brushed his lips against Jay’s, the light kiss thawing the icy shell around Jay. He hadn’t been able to get warm all day, and he kept shivering, his teeth chattering. “You’re dealing with this better than I would, but”—he grimaced, his concern evident—“don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d understand it more if you did freak out. You’re drifting around like a ghost. Talk to me. Vent. Scream. I’m here.”
“I know. I know you are, and that makes it worse, because—” Jay shrugged and wrapped his arms around Austin.
“Okay,” Austin said slowly. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
Jay shook his head. “I feel bad. You’re so good to me, and I can’t even appreciate it, I’m so…”
“You’re in shock, I think,” Austin said. “Come on, let’s go in the other room and sit down somewhere dry for a few minutes, figure out our plan of attack.”
“Your plan of attack, more like.” Jay let himself be led into the living room, where the couch was more or less dry.
“No, ours. We’re in this together.”
“I don’t get why I can’t function when stuff like this happens,” Jay complained.
Austin sat back on the couch and tugged Jay to lean against him. “You can function. You just need a little time to adjust. That’s normal.”
“But you’re fine. You, you know, do stuff. I’m standing around like an idiot.”
“Hey, I had some clothes get wet. You had something you’ve put hundreds of hours into get wrecked. You’re entitled.”
“I can’t even think about it,” he confessed. Austin had offered to clean up the mess Jay’s impulsive act had made, but Jay had shaken his head and done it himself, burying the debris in two bags and leaving them downstairs with the rest of the trash. “It’s like a spider on the wall next to me, and if I look at it, it’s gonna know I can see it and it’ll jump onto me.” The house was old and full of spiders. Jay didn’t mind them—much—but the thought of one on him, crawling over him or skittering fast across the floor, beady eyes on his ankles, gave him the shudders.
“What kind of spider?” Austin held up his finger and thumb an inch apart. “This big? Because I can put them in a cup and help them move house.”
“Yeah. I can see how it’d seem that way.” Austin didn’t say anything for a while, his fingers stroking Jay’s head. It felt nice and then it just felt like giving in and Jay straightened, forcing himself to sound brisk and efficient.
“So Nicole and Jon have gone to her mom’s, and the guys with the dehumidifiers and fans are going to be here soon. What about us? Where do you want to go?”
“We could go to my mom’s,” Austin said, but there was enough reluctance in his voice that it didn’t sound like an option but a last resort.
Jay couldn’t disagree with that. He liked Austin’s family and was sure a night or two under the same roof with them would be fine, but April and Austin clashed and their interactions tended to be unfun to witness. “I feel bad descending on them,” he said diplomatically. “A hotel would probably be better for everyone, you know?”
Austin looked relieved. “Yeah. Oh, that must be the flood control guys.” They both got up to answer the knock at the door.
“This staircase is a hazard,” Liam said, standing in the doorway.
“Tell me about it,” Austin said. “Imagine trying to move furniture up it.”
Jay was still stunned at seeing Liam in a place he’d never been, like he was a completely different person. He was even wearing casual cotton slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. “What are you doing here?” Jay asked.
“Yes, hello to you too,” Liam said drily. “You’re going to come stay with me. I have more than enough room, and it isn’t a request. I’ve taken the day off, and I’m here to help you pack up whatever you need.”
Austin seemed as shocked by this pronouncement as Jay felt. “I…um. I mean, yes, Sir.”
“No need for that.” Liam was gruff. “I’m here as a friend, not your dom. What can I do to help?”
Between them they managed to pack up enough clothes and other things for several days. Liam urged them to bring the bags of laundry too, but Jay noticed Austin kicked at least one bag behind the closet door in the bedroom.
He kept sneaking looks at Liam, trying to adjust to him doing normal stuff like brushing dust off his shirt from a box he’d carried from one room to another. Liam and dust just didn’t go together, like the man had a dirt-repelling force field around him or something. Liam. Here. It was the freaky sprinkles on an already strange day.
Liam’s hand closed around his wrist as he headed for the door, following Austin. Jay stopped, his body responding to being held, not in a sexual way—that was the furthest thing from his mind—but finding some comfort in the warm grip.
“I’m aware of what you lost.” Liam’s eyes were kind—not sympathetic exactly, not full of pity—but kind. “I wish I could fix that for you as easily as I can put a roof over your head, but I can’t, I’m afraid.”
“No one can.” Jay covered Liam’s hand with his, and Liam turned his hand, squeezing Jay’s fingers for a moment, then releasing him. “I’m not going to be much fun to be around for a while.”
“I’ll try to be understanding.” There was a dryness to his words, warning Jay that Liam’s patience wasn’t endless, but he found he didn’t mind that. He needed to wallow in misery, but not forever. “I don’t want to make helpful suggestions that are anything but useful, but—”
“It’s cool,” Jay said, minding his manners with an effort. He wanted to get out of here. His home with Austin had been transformed from a cozy, cluttered haven to a damp, dank, dripping mess. He couldn’t breathe without smelling rusty water and mold. He knew he was imagining the mold, but his throat was still closing up and his chest felt tight.
“Did you take photographs?”
“Huh? I mean, uh, yes. I always do. I have this scrapbook I keep with photos, notes, samples. A lot of it’s on the laptop, but I like having it in a book… Oh God, that’s gone too.” Jay glanced around wildly. “Where is it? I had it out last night. I was checking the shade I’d used for the bridge supports—”
He strode over to the kitchen table piled high with an assortment of items, all damp but not ruined, and began to search through the unstable heap. “It’s not here. Shit, where is it?”
Liam appeared beside him, reaching out to steady a stack of plates. “Calm down. Maybe Austin will remember?”
“No, he’d gone to bed and I put it…I put it….” Jay spun around. Nothing was where it should be. Everything had moved. “Fuck!”
Austin put his head around the door. “Guys? A truck just arrived, and they’re unloading the fans and stuff. They said it’d be easier if we got out of their way.”
Jay couldn’t answer him. He was having a panic attack, every breath he took doing nothing to ease the constriction in his chest, blood booming in his ears. “My book,” he managed to say. “My book.”
“Jay?” Austin sounded worried, but Jay couldn’t focus on him, couldn’t focus on anything because he was hyperventilating and the walls were closing in on him. “Liam, get him down before he falls down!”
In any other situation, Jay would have thought it was funny, hearing Austin order Liam around like he was the one in charge. It was funny because Liam was in charge, even now as he manhandled Jay back into the living room and onto the couch. The couch was good; it was dry and the cushions were squishy but supportive enough beneath him.
“Deep breaths,” Austin was saying. Jay’s head spun, and Austin’s and Liam’s heads looked too big, balloons floating detached above their shoulders.
“He needs his feet up,” Liam said. Jay’s feet lifted and had something stuck under them. “Jay, listen to me. I want you to take slow, deep breaths.” He was using his command voice, the one Jay knew better than to disobey even when he was freaking out.
Deep breaths. He could do that. Slowly the room steadied around him and came back into focus. Austin was kneeling on the floor next to him. “I’m okay. I need my book.”
“It’s here,” Austin assured him. “It’s on top of the fridge. I put it up there so nothing would happen to it. It’s fine.”
“Okay. Okay.” Jay blinked and looked up. Liam was gazing at him, worried face upside down and one hand, Jay realized, wrapped around the back of his neck. “That can’t be comfortable.”
“I’m not concerned about my own comfort just now,” Liam said.
Jay closed his eyes, blocking out the two people who meant the most to him, because their concern was pushing down on him and it was too heavy to bear.
“It’s just paint and wood and stuff. It doesn’t matter.”
“Anything creative is far more than the sum of its parts, but we can get philosophical later. What matters is that you’re upset and both of you are understandably stressed. I need you to open your eyes and sit up.”
When Liam gave him orders, he felt like a puppet on strings. Jay did as he was told, glancing from Austin to Liam and seeing no impatience in their eyes.
“That’s better. Now, are you sure you’ve packed anything personal or valuable?”
Austin nodded. “I’ve put the laptop in your car, and there was this box file where we keep all our paperwork. I put that in too.”
“That was Austin’s idea,” Jay said. His voice was still shaky, but it felt as if it was coming from him, not someone a foot to the left of him. “He spent a Sunday going through all the bills and insurance forms and birth certificates, and filed all of it in there.”
“Austin gets a gold star,” Liam said. “Excellent. How about anything even more personal than that? I imagine you own a few items you might prefer not to be seen by anyone walking through and getting curious? Hopefully not all in lime green or pink.”
“Oh shit, yes.” Austin headed for the bedroom, grabbing a small white plastic bag on the way. “Won’t be a sec.”
Liam raised his eyebrows. “Anything likely to shock me?”
Jay couldn’t help smiling at the idea. “You? N
o. Our landlord, yeah, definitely.”
Liam stood and went over to the fridge and retrieved Jay’s scrapbook. It was a binder, stuffed full of paper and plastic envelopes he could drop swatches or samples into. “God, this is heavy.”
Jay took it from Liam and cradled it to him. “I guess I need to start a new one.”
“Is there”—Liam hesitated—“is there time to make it again using the photographs to guide you? Now that you know what it looks like, the pitfalls to avoid?”
“In a week?” Jay shook his head. “Even if I took some time off work—and I can’t—and didn’t sleep, I don’t think I could get it to where it was. You have to let things dry and set and…” He couldn’t continue. So many nights spent in the hot, airless attic, blocking Austin out, focused on his miniature world…
He could see it in his mind if he concentrated, each detail clear and perfect. He’d been so close to finishing, a score of tiny tweaks to make, but nothing complicated, just polishing it up, really. The towers, the bridges, the ruined alien city rusting under the light of a dying sun…
Austin came back into the room, the bag hanging heavy from his hand, half-full. “All set. God, it feels weird carrying these around. If the bag breaks on the way to the car, I might just die of embarrassment.”
Jay stood abruptly, his scrapbook still clutched to his chest like a security blanket, forcing Liam to take a step to the side to let him pass. “Can we go now? Please?”
He was walking toward the door before they answered, head down, moving quickly, not looking back.
Chapter Sixteen
“That’s the last one,” Austin said, dropping the heavy bag of what had been clean clothes and was now wet, flood-soaked laundry on the floor next to Liam’s washing machine.
“No, just leave it,” Liam said as Austin leaned in to check the controls on the machine. “I’ve already called my cleaning service, and they’re sending someone in the morning to take care of it.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Austin protested. “I can do it myself—”