Road Trip, Volume 1

by BA Tortuga

  “Okay. Okay, let me get you loose.”

  “Fuck, yes. Please.” He turned, twisting to offer Sonny his wrists. They fucking hurt.

  Sonny grunted, dug around in the back seat before he heard the click, and damned if the cuffs didn’t come loose. “There. You’ll have to get your own feet.”

  “’Kay. You okay? I heard the shots.” His fucking shoulders screamed as he moved, his eyes just tearing up against the pain.

  “I… I hope you can drive for a while, Precious….” Sonny didn’t sound jazzed now. In fact he sounded fucking weird. When MJ looked over, Sonny was kinda slumped in the driver’s seat, eyes crossing a little.

  “Fuck.” He reached out, trying to get his fingers to move, to fucking work. “Where the hell were you hit, man?”

  Don’t you fucking pass out on me, you motherfucker.

  “My ribs. Back right side. Fuck, MJ.” Sonny’s chest heaved, but the short, sharp breaths didn’t sound wet, at least.

  “Okay. Hospital. Right. Feet. I’ll get you to somewhere and drop you off.” He couldn’t fucking go in a hospital looking like he did. They’d call the fucking cops. Cops. Shit. No. No, with the gunshot wound, they’d ask questions.

  Fuck him.

  “No! Jesus. They report this shit to the police, Precious. We can…. God. We can clean up here. They have showers. You can wrap me up.” Yeah, like either of them could walk.

  “Yeah, yeah. Fuck. We need a goddamn hotel room.” He finally got his fucking feet loose, yanking the metal off his torn-up skin. Okay. Okay. Come on. Think. “All right. Here’s the plan. I’ll wrap you up. Take you to a hotel and make you comfortable.” Then he was going to get in the shower and stay there.

  For a month.

  “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Your fan club will try to find us. We’ll have to park the car out of sight.” See? Sonny could think. He was shot, and he could think.

  “Yeah.” He got the car door open and explained, very carefully, to his legs that he was going to walk around the car and drive. They could be all shaky and psycho later. Right now the options were working or getting put back in a dark closet. Right. No closets. Up. Moving. Go legs.

  Damn. Sonny was listing to port. Badly. The man was panting like a hot dog, eyes closing on a grimace. “Sorry, MJ… thought I could go a few more miles….”

  “It’s okay, Sunshine. It’s okay. Tell me you filled up the morphine supply. Get in the back seat. I’ll get the bleeding stopped.” He stood, not fucking swaying, damn it. “And pop the trunk so I can get my bag.”

  “Okay.” Sonny did everything he asked, moving like a fucking zombie. “I got all sorts of shit. We get stopped by the cops, we’re fucked.”

  “We won’t get stopped.” This was a big truck stop, not some bullshit touristy pit stop. No one looked. No one wanted you looking. He took four Vicodin dry, then drew up a syringe of morphine and grabbed some wadding. “Gonna dope you up and tie your chest up. Any sewing can wait until I find a room.”

  He gave the shot right through Sonny’s jeans, not waiting for the man to argue.

  “Not gonna be much good to you, Precious. Not… oh. Man. That feels better already.”

  “You got me loose. I’m surprisingly self-sufficient.” He ripped Sonny’s shirt open, looking at the wound. A through-and-through—excellent. He started packing the wound, working as fast as he could.

  “Fuck. Jesus, gimme a drink, will you?” But Sonny took it well, gripping the back seat and just sweating bullets but not screaming or anything. That tanned skin looked pale as hell, but otherwise Sonny looked pretty good.

  “You drink on top of that shot and you’ll puke all over the car. I’m almost done. Looks real clean. Didn’t nick anything major. You just stop bleeding, ’kay?” He started wrapping, praying that nothing inside was torn up.

  “You got it, Precious. I’ll just nip that in the bud.” The exaggerated drawl Sonny said it with had him cracking a grin.

  “Good boy.” He dug out two Valium and popped them in Sonny’s mouth. “I’m gonna drive awhile, man. Sleep.”

  “Okay. Get us someplace good. Big bed… tub.” The words started to slur, Sonny gone already.

  “Uh-huh. I’ll find something.” He got the door shut, got himself settled in the driver’s seat, wrinkling his nose as Sonny’s blood from the seat seeped through his torn T-shirt. What a fucking mess.

  MJ pulled out just as the highway patrol pulled in. A fucking mess, but they were moving, and he’d be damned if they got caught.

  He was never getting caught again.

  SONNY WOKE up feeling like he’d been beaten with a baseball bat. By Jose Canseco in all of his steroid glory, maybe. His body ached in places he didn’t know he had. He tried to roll over on his back, stiffening as screaming pain stopped him. As long as he stayed still he was okay, if stiff. “Precious?”

  “Yeah?” MJ was slumped in a chair by the window, the fading sunlight shadowing his face. “You need another shot, man?”

  “Where are you?” He could barely see the man, damn it, and he wanted… well, he wanted to make sure it was really MJ, and that he was really in one piece. “Get your ass over here.”

  “Bossy asshole.” MJ stood up, moving slow and careful, holding himself like he was blown from glass, but moving. The shadows made him look all fucking mottled and bruised.

  “Damn it, and I didn’t even get to do it to you.” Sonny tried to laugh, groaned instead. “Only bruises you should wear are mine.”

  “No shit. I had a lot more fun fighting with you, Sunshine.” MJ got a pill bottle, shook out a few. “Here, take a couple of these. They’ll take the edge off.”

  Then MJ settled right there beside him, close enough to touch.

  “You okay, though?” Sonny asked, chewing the pills down. “Not pissing blood or anything?”

  He reached out and carefully settled his hand on MJ’s thigh.

  “More sore than anything. Got a broken rib, maybe a cracked shoulder blade. Nothing major.” MJ reached out, touched his arm. “I shot you up with some penicillin and stitched you up some. Looks real clean.”

  “Cool. If I stay still, I’m good.” Yeah, he was actually pretty good right here, touching Precious, knowing they’d made it. He started laughing.

  MJ was just staring at him, sort of wide-eyed and dazed. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “I know. I know. But if you could have seen me riding to the rescue…. I was a little out of my mind, Precious. I’m amazed we’re alive.” God, that hurt, but it meant he was there, alive.

  “How’d you find me, man? Hell, I thought….” MJ shook his head, eyes moving back to the window.

  Man, after being locked up like that? MJ deserved a campout. Somewhere with no walls at all. Sonny stroked him. “Goddamn, it wasn’t easy.”

  “Glad you did, though. Somebody set me up.” MJ stretched out beside him, nose almost touching his. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Sonny rolled on his good side, just a little, enough to be able to see MJ better. His breath huffed out, but he just grabbed a pillow to prop himself up.

  MJ frowned, hands sliding over him, settling him right down. “You good, Sunshine? I don’t want you pulling those stitches.”

  “No, I’m fine. I just need… well, I don’t want to crowd you, MJ. But damn.” He was hungry for the touches.

  “Crowd me?” MJ scooted closer, eyes searching his. Those hands kept moving, kept petting him and searching him and learning him.

  “Uh-huh. Make you feel closed in.” He touched too, his free arm moving so he could slide his hand up MJ’s back and his ribs, careful to avoid the heavily wrapped area.

  “I’ll mention if I do.” MJ leaned in, brushed their lips together, and then slid that hot tongue over his lips.

  “Mmm.” Oh God, yeah. He’d been furious when MJ hadn’t shown, then scared, then determined to find him. Now he had MJ, and he took a kiss that made him hurt… but hurt so good.

  A deep, sweet sound pushed into his lips, MJ’s
fingers sliding right around the back of his head. When he tried to push closer, they both grunted, all sorts of shit pulling and aching, but Sonny wasn’t giving this up. No way.

  No fucking way.

  “Easy. Easy. Don’t want to fucking lose you.” The words were just growled against his lips before that tongue pushed deep.

  Nope. No one was losing anyone now. Not now. Tasting MJ deep gave him a hint of orange juice and a slight taste of toothpaste, but no weird banana things. MJ’s lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking just the tiniest bit, eyes closing as MJ hummed. Mmm. Good. God, it was good. His hand settled at the base of MJ’s neck, holding them together so he could bite a little, beg with lips and tongue.

  Those hands were enough to make him purr, fingers on his nipples, on his back, just teasing his balls. It wasn’t enough to make him ache, but fuck, it felt good.

  It felt right.

  Sonny had given up letting that make him feel weird.

  They pulled apart just to breathe, maybe to look at each other. MJ’s lashes had blond ends. His cheeks were all flushed, his face a study in bruises.

  “You did it up right, Precious.”

  “They were waiting for me, man. They knew just where to find me.” MJ sighed, frowned, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter right now. You found me.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Kiss me some more so I know how happy you are.” He grinned, his nails scraping the back of MJ’s neck.

  “I can do that.”

  That was no lie. One kiss slid into another into another, just sweet as shit. It made him, well, not hard. He wasn’t sure if he could do that right now. But he could sure enough do kissing. He could do more touching too, finding welts and scrapes and loving on them.

  Seemed to work just fine for MJ too. The man relaxed, just sort of oozed against him. They kissed lazily, like it was a mimosa Sunday and they had all the time in the world. Lord knew, they probably didn’t. They’d have to get moving. Not now, but soon. Sonny ignored the thought, taking another kiss, then another.

  MJ started shaking some, the adrenaline rush finally dissipating and letting his Precious go.

  “Mmm. Yeah, yeah, it’s all right,” he murmured against MJ’s mouth. “It’s all good.”

  “Yeah. I know. You came.” MJ nodded, breathing against his chin, his jaw.

  “I did. Soon as I sleep a little I’m gonna come too.” He laughed again, thinking of how beat to hell they were.

  MJ started chuckling, tongue licking at his lips. “In the morning, we’ll have to drive.”

  “I know. We should have pancakes first. I have clothes for us. Shit.” Stuff he couldn’t remember. God, his head was logy. “Money. Cards and all.”

  “Cool. We have to have a shower too.” MJ hummed, one hand curled around his waist. “You smell fucking good, though.”

  “Yeah? Not like a skanky whore’s bed?” He grinned, nuzzling even closer, ignoring the twinges. “You make a pretty wounded hero.”

  “I didn’t think I was playing the hero.” MJ’s belly was hot, smooth against him.

  “No, like in a bad movie… the wounded. Oh, never mind.” It wasn’t worth it. They could fight later, when he had energy. He looked forward to it, in fact.

  MJ chuckled. “Man, one day we’ll have to watch a movie together.”

  “Or go out for Chinese. This whole meeting with blood and guts all over us? So getting to me.” He grinned wildly. Fuck, who was he kidding? Adrenaline was his friend.

  “Mmm. A little blood’s okay. No more guts.”

  “No shit.” He licked MJ’s lips again, feeling how firm they were, how hot. Savoring.

  MJ’s eyelids started drooping, breath slowing. “Sunshine.”

  “Sleep, Precious. We’ll work the rest out tomorrow.” His own breathing started to even out, taking on the rhythm of sleep.

  “Mmm-hmm.” MJ settled, legs tangled with his, hand keeping him close.

  They would sleep. Get their strength back. Then they’d hit the road and fight and fuck all the way to Florida.

  All they had to do was make it to the boat.

  Then it was anywhere they wanted to go.

  Chapter Thirteen

  HE’D MANAGED to coax Sonny into the back seat and get the man doped and comfortable. Then he’d hit the road, heading east.

  He wasn’t sure where he was going, but it didn’t fucking matter, so long as he kept going until he could figure out what the hell to do about finding the fucker who’d betrayed him and paying said fucker a little visit.

  With a sledgehammer.

  A sledgehammer and a pickaxe and possibly a boiling oil enema.

  Oh man. That would be gross.

  Asshole would deserve it, but still.

  Damn.

  “Are we there yet, Precious?” Sonny’s voice came, thick and groggy but awake. Maybe it was time to stop and take a leak.

  “Yeah. Let’s stop and stretch.” Dude, it was after two already. “You hungry?”

  “Possibly. Or I could just need to pass my stomach out through my esophagus. Either way, I could use grease.” Warm fingers ghosted over his neck.

  “Oh man. That’s fairly gross.” He leaned back toward the touch, wanting more of it.

  “Uh-huh. I feel gross.” He got more than just a hand as Sonny leaned up and kissed his nape. “Stop somewhere quiet, Precious.”

  His moan surprised him. He couldn’t quite believe the way things had gone. Of course believing was way cooler than not, so he was sticking with that.

  “Yeah.” The chuckle caused a little breeze. “Come on. Let’s eat and make out a bit.”

  “Looks like there’s some drive-in coming up. We’ll order and find a place to park, yeah?” Like Sonny was up to making out in the car.

  “That sounds like a plan. I can see if you’re pissing blood, you can see if I need to puke…. Ah, ain’t life grand.” Well, at least Sonny seemed cheerful enough.

  “You’re heading to that gross place again, man.” Besides, the blood was getting better.

  “Yeah, yeah, feed me, then. It has to be a product of the drug-induced euphoria.” He could hear Sonny rustling but couldn’t quite figure out what he was up to.

  “Hamburger and fries?” Or maybe those chicken finger things that either tasted like fish or onions but came with mustard sauce. Mustard sauce actually sounded good. Mustard and pretzels and…. Oh. Corny dog.

  “What have they… oh. Chocolate shake. And do they have corny dogs?” Lord, a man after his own heart. MJ could even forgive the Twinkies now.

  “Yeah. Two chocolate shakes. Two corn dogs. Two tater tots.” He dug out some cash, wiggling and stretching.

  He heard a hum, Sonny crowding his headrest, hands on his shoulders. “Did you get extra mustard?”

  “I’ll ask when they bring the food. How’s your side, Sunshine?”

  “Not as bad as it was. Pulling like crazy. How’s your ribs?” Oh, that felt good. MJ’s head dropped forward as Sonny rubbed his sore muscles.

  “Sore. Don’t stop.” He let his head rest on the steering wheel half a second.

  “Not gonna until the food comes. You’re like rock, Precious. You’re a good egg.”

  A good egg. He almost started laughing hysterically. “It’s chilly up this far north, huh? Even in September. I bet there’s snow up here.” Snow. Ice. Serious white shit. Like eggs. Jesus fucking Christ.

  “It is. Too cold for this chicken.” Chickens. They had a theme.

  “Gobble, gobble.” Wait. That was turkeys, right?

  “Oh, my very own white meat,” Sonny said, laughing.

  The carhop came up just then, giving them one hell of a look.

  “We need extra mustard.” He was just rolling, laughing hard enough that it hurt. “And breath mints.”

  “And some of those bendy straws for the kids’ cups.” Oh, the kid just rolled those eyes at that, but he thought Sonny might start to hyperventilate.

  “Yes. And napkins. You can never have enough napkins.�
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  They waited just long enough to get all their shit, and tip the kid to be fair, before pulling around to the back. Sonny waved a hand up by his face. “Get your ass back here and eat with me.”

  “Have I mentioned that you’re getting pushier the older you get?” He grabbed his shake and slid out to get in the back.

  “Oh yeah. An hour ago I was willing to let you be a few feet away.” Of course an hour ago Sonny had been snoring like the Latvian Chainsaw Drill Team.

  “Eat your corny dog.” He tore open a mustard packet, getting his fingers all yellow.

  Sonny grabbed his hand and wiped it on his corny dog, stealing half the mustard. “Yeah. Okay. Mmm. Chocolate and ice cream. God love us.”

  He shook his head, chuckling as he licked his fingers clean. Ooh. Tart. Man. “Who said one of those was for you?”

  “You wouldn’t deny an injured man. You’re the nice one.”

  He had to laugh. They’d argued that one in Jamaica, about how MJ hadn’t left Sonny behind. Now he could tease Sonny right back for rescuing him.

  “Man, you’re a real hardass. Driving across country. Getting shot. Finding me….” Man, that was deeply fucked-up, wasn’t it? Sonny came.

  Found him.

  On purpose.

  “Hey, I flew. Note, we’re not in my car. And, man, I have no idea where yours is.” Leaning on him, Sonny shared space and food, both of them nibbling.

  “I totaled it. That’s how they got me.” He stole a tater tot, free hand on Sonny’s thigh. “You flew? You know that’s unnatural, right?”

  “Hey, eighteen hours versus five. I got here sooner. Good thing too.” Sonny leaned into his touch, making happy noises. “Oh fuck, wait. They totaled your car? That’s just wrong.”

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t sure which thing he was agreeing to, but it didn’t matter right now. The whole thing sucked, except the whole Sonny part.

  “Mmm.” Sonny finished up his corny dog and licked his fingers, taking a mustardy kiss before sucking down part of his shake. “That’s just the ticket.”

  That must mean Sonny wasn’t going to hurl. Cool. Wait. That was his shake.