by Kim Fielding
Qay ignored him. “I understand addiction and mental illness. Christ, I understand them inside and out. But they were no excuse for my parents to…. At least my problems never fucked up anyone’s life but my own.”
Oh. Another reason why Qay was so skittish. If he let someone in close, he risked hurting them. Even Jeremy could figure that one out.
“You’re not them,” Jeremy said. “Just because you have issues doesn’t mean—”
“Like Donny? Look what his issues did to you.”
It was Jeremy’s turn to sigh. “You’re not Donny either. Anyway, I can take some hurting. I’m a big boy.”
“You’re not as powerful as you think, Captain Caffeine. Every superhero has his kryptonite.”
It wasn’t the time to argue, so Jeremy remained silent. But dammit, he was strong. He’d worked fucking hard to make himself that way. He squeezed Qay a little tighter, just to remind him.
“I don’t remember the funeral,” Qay said. “Not the church part anyway. It’s a blur. But I do remember standing at the gravesite. My tie was so tight—strangling me like a python—and I had to wear a suit, so I was melting in the heat. I wanted to melt. Just… become a puddle and sink into the grass. But Mom stood there like the goddamn ice queen, and Dad might as well have been made of granite. They didn’t look at me. They were burying the wrong son.”
“Jesus, Qay—”
“They told me so, later. Each of them. It should have been you. And nobody… nobody comforted me. My big brother was dead and nobody even….” The sound that followed was more like a groan than a sob, and it broke Jeremy’s heart.
Jeremy gently urged Qay to roll over. Qay buried his face in Jeremy’s shoulder, and Jeremy cradled him in a firm embrace. Qay’s body quivered, but he didn’t cry. And he didn’t release Jeremy.
Inside every man was the boy he used to be. No matter how much bigger he’d grown or how many miles he’d traveled. No matter how high the bridge from which he’d leaped.
After a time, the nature of their mutual embrace changed. Jeremy had been circling his hands soothingly over Qay’s back, but when Qay shifted his head and began to suck and lick Jeremy’s skin, Jeremy moved his palms gradually downward. Seemingly pleased by that, Qay undulated against him and then focused his attention on Jeremy’s nipples. Maybe those sensitive little nubs of flesh were Jeremy’s kryptonite, because his mood abruptly shifted from comforting to voracious.
This time, they didn’t even make it to the condoms, which was okay because they didn’t need penetration. Qay worked Jeremy’s nipples with lips, tongue, and teeth, and their slick cocks rubbed and jostled as Qay and Jeremy rutted against each other. Considering how little time had passed since their first round, they reached their peaks surprisingly quickly. Qay came first, but that didn’t stop him from continuing his devotion to Jeremy’s chest while firmly stroking Jeremy’s dick, and soon afterward Jeremy cried out his own climax.
Stuck together with drying come and tangled limbs, they slipped effortlessly into sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
JEREMY AWOKE, slightly disoriented, to the smell of coffee. Qay stood beside the mattress with a steaming mug in his hand. His flannel pants hung low on his hips, and his plain white tee was tight across his chest. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”
“Morning?” Jeremy asked, because it was hard to tell.
“Yeah. Don’t you need to go to work?”
Work. Shit. It was Monday, wasn’t it? He hadn’t set the alarm on his phone the night before. He wasn’t even sure where the phone was. He’d shed it along with his clothes. And although he’d intended to take a vacation day, he’d decided against it—with the holiday coming, he had a lot to do. Feeling groggy, he struggled to sit up. First he took the coffee with a grateful smile, and then he saw the red LED numbers on Qay’s ancient clock radio. “Shit. It’s almost eight.”
“I thought about waking you earlier, but you’re cute when you’re asleep. And I like having you in my bed.”
That made Jeremy grin. “I like being here. And if I don’t shift my ass, I’m never going to leave.”
Qay leered. “If you do shift your ass, I won’t let you leave.”
“Twice in one night wasn’t enough to tide you over?”
“I have a long, long dry spell to make up for.”
Jeremy swallowed some milky-sweet coffee and winced—it was hot and definitely not up to Rhoda’s standards.
“How long?” Not a comfortable subject, perhaps, but better than reviving Qay’s childhood memories.
Qay sucked on his teeth and looked away. “Almost seven years.”
“Seven years? Seven years? Holy fuck!”
“Wrong expletive,” Qay said with a snort.
“But how did you—”
“I know how to masturbate, Jeremy. I’m sort of an expert on it, in fact.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Not the same. You haven’t even had a quickie? A hookup?”
“I haven’t so much as kissed another person since I got sober, and that was seven years ago.” Qay looked amused by Jeremy’s astonishment. “And it didn’t kill me. I mean, I wasn’t exactly a monk. I looked at porn. Um, sort of a lot sometimes.”
“I realize abstinence isn’t fatal. But why? Jesus, Qay. You’re really good-looking. It wouldn’t be hard for you to find someone who’s willing.”
“It’s not, but that’s not the point. I had plenty of sex when I was younger. Some of it I was even sane and sober enough to remember afterward. It felt good at the time—scratching an itch. But the same could be said for heroin and oxy and the other shit I used. And none of that was good for me.” He shrugged. “It was killing me.”
Jeremy downed the rest of the coffee in one scalding chug, then stood. He was still naked, with his and Qay’s dried come flaking off his skin. But Qay didn’t protest when Jeremy pulled him into a hug. “I’m not heroin,” Jeremy murmured into Qay’s ear.
Qay chuckled and squeezed Jeremy’s ass. “No, but you are tempting me.”
Jeremy eventually showered and left for work, but not before a long, nerve-tingling kiss. He swore he could taste Qay all morning.
TUESDAY WAS dry but cloudy and nut-freezingly cold. It was one of the rare times Jeremy disliked having an outdoorsy job. True, it was nothing like the below-zero temps he’d endured in Kansas, but he’d lived in Portland for a long time and had acclimated to the more moderate climate.
He tromped through the South Park Blocks with his breath pluming and his gloved hands stuffed in his parka pockets. He was tempted to head straight for the nearest coffee place and barricade himself inside, but he had work to do, especially since he’d lost an hour lazing in Qay’s bed on Monday and a four-day weekend was coming up.
In weather like this, the only people dallying in parks either lacked the mental capacity to get in out of the cold or had nowhere else to go. That meant Jeremy and his rangers were busy making sure everyone was safe. When possible, they shepherded people back home. When there was no home, they tried to help find shelter.
Jeremy spotted a figure slowly wobbling through the park and sighed. He had the feeling this one was going to involve more than a phone call to a relative or caregiver. From the back, he couldn’t tell the person’s gender, but he or she was underdressed, wearing decaying slippers, ragged jeans, and a lumpy oversized sweater. The person’s medium brown hair looked hopelessly snarled. Jeremy hurried to catch up.
A bronze Teddy Roosevelt watched from his horse as Jeremy drew abreast of the person. “Hey,” Jeremy said mildly. He knew his size and uniform could intimidate, so he worked hard to be nonthreatening.
The person—a man, Jeremy could see now—stopped, peered up at Jeremy, and swayed on his feet. Sores dotted his hollow-cheeked face, and when he opened his mouth, he showed badly rotted teeth. But he probably wasn’t past his thirties, Jeremy guessed. Likely a good ten years younger than Qay.
“It’s awfully cold today. Do you have somewhere you can go to
warm up?”
The man made an unintelligible grunt.
Jeremy spoke slowly and soothingly. “I’m not a cop. I can’t arrest you. I’m just worried about you.” Although he knew of a few available shelter beds, no shelter would take in anyone this obviously zonked. That left him few options. “I can take you to Good Sam. They’ll make sure you stay warm.” The hospital wouldn’t be thrilled to have this guy turn up, but they’d make sure he didn’t OD or die of hypothermia, at least for a few hours.
“No,” the man said and began to walk away.
Jeremy reached for his arm, at which point the guy swung at him. It was a clumsy attempt, off-balance and badly aimed, so it was easy for Jeremy to duck out of the way. That pissed his assailant off, though, and he flailed at Jeremy wildly, spitting and growling like a rabid monkey.
It was difficult to subdue him without harm. Jeremy ended up with scratches on his face and a couple of fresh bruises. But eventually he was able to capture the man’s wrists in a set of flex cuffs. He was required to carry the restraints but rarely had to use them. Holding the guy’s arm to keep him from bolting, Jeremy managed to dig out his phone and call the boys in blue.
The pair of patrol officers who showed up a few minutes later were absurdly young. But Jeremy knew them fairly well, and they were decent sorts. He happily handed over his prisoner. “He’s not really dangerous,” Jeremy said. “Just tweaking and scared. Maybe you can just let him warm up a little and chill out?”
The cops exchanged a quick look, then both nodded. It was the square-bodied blonde woman who spoke. “If you’re sure, Chief. But if we take photos of your face and get a statement from you, I’m sure the DA could get an assault charge to stick.”
“What good would that do anyone? Don’t bother.”
The cops nodded again, probably relieved to avoid paperwork and looking forward to hanging out for a while inside the nearby warm jail. “Do you want a medical check?” the woman asked.
Jeremy patted his glove against his stinging cheek. “Nah. I can clean this up myself.”
“Sure thing. Happy Thanksgiving, Chief.”
“You too. Stay warm.” He even managed a smile for the prisoner, now slumped in defeat.
He walked the several blocks to his SUV, started the engine, cranked the heater, and rooted in the glove box for his small first-aid kit. He used the mirror to cleanse the wounds and apply antiseptic, then scowled at the results. Okay, so maybe he was slightly vain.
He sat there for a time, thinking about the guy who’d just been hauled off to jail. Poor bastard. Maybe someday he’d seek help getting clean, but not today, and his outlook wasn’t good. Fuck. Jeremy dry-rubbed the uninjured parts of his face. As miserable as work might be on a day like this, at least he had a home to go to. Well, a nice hotel room anyway. And he had people who cared about him.
At that point his thoughts naturally turned to Qay. How many times had he been left out in the cold, literally or figuratively? By Jeremy’s count, Qay must have spent two decades masking his fears and sorrows with drugs, bouncing between institutions. What if Jeremy had encountered him in a park during those years? Would events have transpired as they had today? Jesus, even imagining that made Jeremy’s stomach clench.
He heaved a long sigh and checked the time. Almost two hours until Qay got off work. At least he could keep him warm tonight.
QAY LOOKED neither surprised nor especially thrilled to discover Jeremy waiting outside the window factory. He wandered over and opened the SUV’s passenger door but didn’t get inside. “I can get home by myself. Been doing it a long time.”
Jeremy frowned. Qay’s jacket was too light for these temperatures. “You can get home by yourself, but you don’t have to. C’mon.”
For a moment he thought Qay was going to refuse, and Jeremy wasn’t sure what he’d do then. Instead Qay squinted at him. “What the hell happened to your face?”
“Get in and I’ll tell you over dinner.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Qay complied. Jeremy tried not to look smug when Qay leaned forward to place his palms close to the heater vents. “I’m paying,” Qay said a little sullenly.
“But you paid when—”
“I’m paying.”
“Fine.”
They ended up at Burgerville, where they each ordered a big burger and shared onion rings and sweet-potato fries. Despite the cold, Qay ordered a pumpkin milkshake. “So,” he said after a noisy slurp. “Face?”
“Nothing big. Just an unhappy member of the public.”
Qay had been slumping, but now he sat up straight. “Some fucker did that to you? Who the hell attacks a park ranger?”
Very quietly, Jeremy said, “An addict who doesn’t want help.”
“Oh,” said Qay, melting back and ducking his head.
Jeremy grabbed the milkshake cup, stole a sip, and gave it back. “Change of subject. How was class last night?”
Qay perked up. “Professor Reynolds talked to his friends at Portland State. They might be able to get me in for spring semester—with a scholarship.”
“That’s fantastic! How many classes would you take?”
“I don’t know. Depends on whether I have a laptop by then. If I do, I can take one course on campus and one online, I think. I should be able to manage that.”
Jeremy mentally calculated the chances that Qay would have a conniption if Jeremy bought him a laptop for Christmas. High. But a few weeks remained—maybe Jeremy could think of a way to finesse it. “That’s really exciting, Qay.”
“And completely terrifying.” He pushed his hair back from his face. “Reynolds said I can maybe take some tests, and if I score high enough, they’ll waive some of the general education classes. But shit, that means I have to do well on the tests. Fat chance.”
“You got a perfect score on your last exam,” Jeremy reminded him.
“That was an outlier. A rare phenomenon, like Halley’s Comet or St. Elmo’s fire.”
“Dude. In two sentences you just used a five-dollar word and referenced statistics, astronomy, and meteorology. Or possibly a Brat Pack movie. Either way, very impressive. Only a smart guy would be able to do that.”
Qay grinned slightly but then shook his head. “I know I’m not stupid. I just can’t get shit from here”—he thumped his head—“to paper. It gets all twisted up along the way, or else I panic and just go blank.”
A few of the fries remained. Jeremy snagged them and popped them into his mouth. “That’s good, because stupidity is permanent. Test anxiety we can work with.”
“We?”
“We can do some relaxation techniques. Together. I bet you could find me very, very relaxing.” He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
Qay’s answering smile was wide and lecherous. “Maybe we should practice that tonight.”
And they did.
AS TEMPTED as he was by Qay’s warm, pliant body stretched out under the blanket, nude and slightly sweaty, Jeremy got dressed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and he needed some rest. Besides, he didn’t have a change of clothes with him or any other sleepover supplies.
“I’ll pick you up Thursday at one,” he said. “Don’t forget the Cards Against Humanity.”
“At one. Um, I’ve been meaning to ask. Is there a dress code?” Qay worried his lip.
“Well, you know Rhoda. She’s apt to wear just about anything. Two years ago she wore an orange-and-brown dress with a turkey appliqué on the chest. That’s going to be hard for her to top. I’ll be in jeans and a sweater.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Jeremy dropped to his knees so he could land a kiss on Qay’s forehead. “You’ll be fine whatever you wear. And you’ll have a good time. Rhoda adores you, and wait until you meet her son, Parker. He’s the most adorable little twink you’ve ever seen. He’s like a sparkly unicorn. I don’t know who else is coming this year, but I promise you’ll impress them with your good looks and wit.”
“I’ll impress them with someth
ing,” Qay muttered.
Another kiss, this time to the tip of Qay’s nose. “One o’clock.” Jeremy groaned slightly as he rose to his feet. He was not getting any younger.
Qay waved lazily at him. “I’m too comfortable to see you out. Sorry. The upstairs door will lock on its own.”
“You have Friday off?”
Qay blinked at him. “Yeah. And Saturday.”
“Perfect. After dinner at Rhoda’s, we’ll head to the Marriott, climb into bed, and not get out until Sunday night at the earliest. We’ll order room service when we grow faint.”
God, he’d give everything he owned just to keep that smile on Qay’s face.
WEDNESDAY BROUGHT more rain and slightly warmer temperatures. That was a relief, because Jeremy wasn’t in the mood to deal with snow. It was rare in Portland, but when it fell, it was always a nightmare. Between the hills, the scarcity of snow removal equipment, and the local drivers’ inexperience, massive traffic jams and multicar pileups were just about guaranteed.
In skin-numbing drizzle, Jeremy spent the morning checking in with his rangers, making sure everything would stay as quiet as possible over the holiday. After a quick lunch, he drove to a grocery store in Northeast, where he picked up donated feast supplies. With his SUV full of bags and boxes, he drove to Patty’s Place, where Evelyn greeted him with a hug. “We can always count on you to come through for us, Chief.”
“I’ve seen how much food your kids can go through in one sitting. You need all the help you can get.”
A few of the kids trotted out to help carry everything in. Jeremy grinned broadly when he recognized one of them. “How’s it going, Toad?”
Toad wore a bright sweater that reflected his cheerful mood. “Really great, Chief. You were right about this place. They get me here.”
“I’m glad. I’ve heard good things about you from Evelyn. You’re going to be someone.”
Toad beamed. “Me and this guy, Juan, we’re making a video game where you get to travel to another planet and kill off these, like, alien zombie bad guys, and if you win that planet, you go to another. It’s sick. We’re gonna be millionaires.”