by BA Tortuga
“Fuck.” The curse was low, vicious. “Your eyes. Shane… what have you been doing?”
“Working?”
“Darlin’. I know it’s busy… but you didn’t pop anything to keep you awake, did you?” It wasn’t really a question. Galen sounded like he knew the answer.
“Awake?” He blinked again, pretty sure he was missing something. “I slept with you last night, Galen.”
“I know, darlin’. I mean tonight. To keep you going.” Galen’s hands were leaving tingles all over his cheeks and neck.
Fucking cool.
“I didn’t take. Well, I mean I had a couple three, but it’s a bar. You know? Booze.”
“I know, darlin’.” That pissed-off look was completely at odds with the way Galen touched him. “Someone is going to die.”
“Uh…. Now?” He pushed closer, eyes closing against the light.
“Yeah. Now. Not you. Goddamn people.” Galen pulled him close, lips moving on his skin.
“Oh….” He shivered, gasped. It was like little fires burning all over him, which would be creepy if it didn’t feel so fucking hot. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow. Who can I call to come fill in?”
“Huh? I gotta work, Len. My barbacks didn’t show. The tall one and the ugly one. I’m just on break.”
Galen shook him a little, making his skull rock like he had baby head. “Pay attention, Shane. Someone slipped you something. You’re only gonna get freakier. Who can I call that’s not on tonight?”
“Aaron. I can work, Len. Honest. I didn’t take anything.” He caught sight of the ten other Shanes in the mirror again. That was beginning to creep him out.
“I know you didn’t mean to, darlin’. You stay here. I’ll call Aaron. Then we’re going home.” The door opened and closed, the sound really loud for a second, then muffled again as Galen left him alone.
Well, as alone as any guy could be with ten clones standing around….
Shit.
He stood for a bit, sort of watching the way the floor moved with the music before he reckoned he needed to do something constructive. Not construction, because it was the wrong season, and Galen wouldn’t let him play with the nail gun after the last deck incident.
Just when he was about to start cleaning the toilet with his fingernails, Galen knocked and came back in. “What are you doing?”
“Uh…. Constructing? No. That’s not it. Constructiving. Being construction. Shit.” He closed his eyes, counted to some number between ten and fifteen. “Cleaning.”
“Yeah. Wash your hands, darlin’. We’ll go.” Galen led him to the sink and washed his hands for him when he closed his eyes. “Aaron is coming in, and those guys buying you shots were long gone. No one to kill.”
“No? Well, that’s probably okay. We’re not zoned for killing.” The soap smelled like cucumbers. How fucked-up was that?
“Not unless you’re related to the kill-ee. This is Florida, after all. Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you out of here.” So gentle. Galen’s hands were so gentle.
“You want to dance first?” Hell, if he was off work? It was the first Saturday he’d had free in forever….
“Oh, darlin’.” Galen led him out, all the way out, ignoring everyone. “We can dance at home, yeah?”
The wind was blowing, and he swore it was talking. “Yeah. That’s cool. Then we can dance naked.” He grabbed his car keys, looking for the Jeep.
“We can. I can strip you down and rub all over you.” The keys went flying off in the wind, and Galen took him to the big old truck Galen had, hoisted him up in the cab, and strapped him in.
Man, that was some wicked, stunning wind. He swore to God, he saw his Jeep driving itself home, and they were moving out of hurricane country. Honestly, what did the wind need with his Jeep? Victor? Now he could kinda go there. Sort of. Except Victor had short little gator legs, and the Jeep was a standard, and, man… it would suck to have to manage the clutch that way….
There. Galen had the kind of legs you needed for driving. They hit both pedals, and Galen had long arms too, so he could shift and steer, though maybe Victor could do that with his teeth. Galen had nice teeth.
One of those long arms moved, Galen’s hand landing on his thigh. “You okay?”
“Yeah. You know, you’re a much better driver than Victor.” He stroked Galen’s fingers, heart beating a million miles a minute.
“You think?” A sideways kind of smile came his way, and suddenly they were home. Just like they’d flown. Maybe the wind was good for something.
“Yeah. Man, we’re home.” He looked around, frowned. His Jeep hadn’t made it home yet, though.
“We are. We can dance. Come on, lover. Let’s get you inside.”
He nodded, let Galen ease him through the wind, into their house. “You pissed at me, Galen?”
“No, darlin’. Not at you. Not ever.” They got inside, and Len locked the door and seemed to relax some. Which was good, ’cause, man, was Len wound too tight.
He reached up—and up and up and up and, shit, Galen was getting taller in his old age—and started rubbing Galen’s shoulders.
“Mmm. Feels good, darlin’. I promised you naked. Let’s get you some water first.” Len was being so nice. When he sounded so mad.
“Water.” He leaned up for a kiss, the room spinning a little.
“Uh-huh. A big old glass of water.” He got his kiss, light and sweet and too short, damn it.
“Okay.” Shane really wasn’t thirsty, but he had learned it was easier to go along with Len on stuff like this. The man was… single-minded. Determined. That was good when it came to sex, so he put up with a lot of other times. The water was all sparkly in the glass. Maybe it was bubbly water.
He could see himself in the bubbles, floating up and up like those guys in that show with the candy factory and the little orange singing midget-weirdos. Fucking creepy.
“Shane?”
Galen’s eyes were way prettier than the water, so dark Shane could hardly distinguish the pupil from the iris.
“Darlin’? Are you feeling sick?”
“No. Weird. My heart’s fluttery. Not sick. I don’t think. I love you, yeah? Love how you call me darlin’.”
“I love you too, darlin’. You know that, yeah?”
If he closed his eyes, he could drink the water. And Galen rewarded him with a kiss, so that was okay.
He leaned in, breathing Galen in, holding on, swaying to the beat of Galen’s heart. His own heartbeat was like a weird counter-rhythm. They could dance to that. Galen swayed right along with him, arms warm and steady around him.
Fuck, he loved this man. Really, really. And not like a goofy, stupid love with hearts and cupids and shit, but like….
Uh.
Something way cooler.
Galen hummed, low and sweet, that whiskey voice melting right into his skin and running through his veins. It made the weird feeling better, made his heart a little less freaked out. He could feel every individual whisker on Galen’s face rubbing against his cheek.
Oh yeah. He held on, happier than he’d been in forever—which was fucked-up, because he’d been happy a lot with Galen.
“You like the dancing, darlin’? This what you wanted?”
“Mmm… so good to me, Galen. Always give me what I need.”
“I try. Even when you don’t want it.” Galen laughed, nuzzling him again, kissing his throat. Then those lips fastened right over the pulse point on his neck, and Galen sucked up a mark.
“Oh….” His belly went tight, the sensation huge, crashing over him and making him gasp. “Galen!”
“Crazy, isn’t it, darlin’? Makes everything huge.” Galen bit down on the bruise, making it throb.
“Uh-huh. Fuck.” He held on, panting, a little worried. “I’m gonna be okay, yeah? It’s all okay?”
“It is, darlin’. I promise. By tomorrow you’re just gonna have a bad hangover. I’ve got you. You know I’d never let anything hurt you.” G
alen pulled him to the couch, curled around him. “I love you.”
He nodded, settling right in, fingers sliding over Galen’s arms, fascinated by the soft dark hairs. Galen was talking, he could hear it, but it was sort of buzzing in his ears in a low rumble, and finally Galen kissed him again, tongue easing into his mouth. Oh, that was much better than trying to work out when Galen started speaking Swahili. Pushing him down on his back, Galen came down on top of him, heavy and hot. They still had their clothes on. That seemed wrong.
“Mmm… naked.” It was like magic, how those eyes went black.
“Yes. Don’t let go. Don’t let go, Len. Need you.”
“Not going to, darlin’. What do you need?” Galen had him, held him, touched him all over, just petting.
He frowned, kept his eyes closed. “Shit’s spinny.”
“I got you. It will wear off, if I’m remembering right. You feeling sick at all?”
“Not really, just… wigged.”
Worried, maybe.
Itchy, some.
“Good. I mean, not good that you’re wigged, darlin’. But good you’re not gonna puke.” Galen shifted, rolled a little, got him up in Galen’s lap. “Someone slipped you something.”
“Why? What?” He was doing the baby-head thing again. Bizarre.
“I don’t know, Shane. Someone at the bar. Those guys buying you shots? I could tell by your eyes.” One big hand cupped his head, holding it still, cradling his skull.
Oh, dude. Yeah. They’d given him that first shot over at the table, all of them laughing and…. No….
“My eyes.” He tried to look, crossing his eyes and making himself dizzy as all fuck.
“Don’t. It won’t do anything but make you dizzy.” Galen kissed his forehead. “If you were gonna get sick off it, you would have by now. We just have to ride it.”
Safe. Galen kept him safe. “We. Cool.” If Galen was there, he’d be cool. Home. “I don’t have my Jeep here.”
“I know. We’ll get it when you can drive again.”
“Tomorrow.” He nodded, cheek ending on Galen’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
He wasn’t sure what for, but he was thankful.
“You’re welcome, darlin’. And I swear to God, I ever get my hands on them? I’m gonna kill them.” The muscles under his cheek went hard, tension going through Galen’s body.
“Bet it was an accident.” Nobody wanted to hurt him. He was pointless. No. Harmless. Well. No threat.
“And I bet they wanted you, darlin’. You’re special.” Galen stroked his back, his hip. “No one gets you but me.”
“No. No one but you. Never wanted anyone else after that first night. Blew my mind. Even in the Jeep when it was bad between us, I couldn’t with anyone but you.”
“I know. I know, darlin’. You blow my mind.”
Oh, there. There was the good growly. He petted that pretty belly, humming. “Yeah. Blow you….”
“Yeah. I’ll count on that sometime soon.”
He actually got a laugh. Go him. Galen settled them nice and comfy, pulling the throw down off the back of the couch to cover them.
“Mmm… feels good.” His head was heavy, whole body feeling weighted down.
“Yeah. You always do.” Galen had to be doing something, something tricky to make him sleepy.
“You learned voodoo in New Orleans without me….” Shane would have to kick Galen’s butt.
“Yep. While you were out getting pierced. Just wait until I summon up your Jeep.”
The laughter rippled right through him from Galen’s chest. Like butterflies.
“Oh, that would be so cool….”
But Len was gonna have to wait. He was tired.
Maybe even already sleeping.
GALEN WAITED until Shane was good and asleep, maybe sometime around six in the morning, and called his momma. He needed to talk, knew Shane would never really get why he was so mad, and maybe he didn’t want Shane to. He loved Shane just as happy as he was.
Oh, that sounded bad. But his momma understood. She had seen him at his lowest.
“Hey, Momma,” he said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
She chuckled, her morning voice almost as rough as his. “No, honey. I been sitting and drinking coffee nigh on a half hour.”
“Oh, good.”
There was a long pause where he didn’t say nothin’, and she listened to him breathe. Then she asked. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“At the bar tonight. Last night. Someone slipped Shane a Mickey, Momma.”
“Oh.” He could hear her draw a breath. “Oh, honey. Is he all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s sleeping it off. I just… damn.”
“They didn’t get you, did they?” She sounded downright worried now. And, hell, she had good reason. He’d been a damned junkie once, and when he’d come crawling to her to apologize, he’d been as wrung out as she’d ever seen him.
“No.” Rage filled him when he thought of Shane’s pupils, drawn up like tiny pinpricks. “Shane takes way better care of me than he does himself.”
“Bullshit, honey. He’s a big boy. You have to trust him, all right?”
“I do! It’s all the other assholes I don’t trust.”
“Well, he’s gonna meet a lot of assholes at a bar.” She sighed, the sound as concerned as it was fond and exasperated and… Momma. “Are you coming for Thanksgiving?”
“I am. We are.”
“Good. I want Shane here this year.”
“Yes, Momma.”
She wasn’t trying to change the subject, he knew, and she listened to him rant and rave when he started up again and never said a word when he threatened murder and mayhem. In fact, the only thing she got het up about was when he told her how Shane was looking forward to Victor the gator coming back.
Then all she said was “That boy needs a dog.”
He talked until he was hoarse, and he could tell she was worried about him. Hell, who could blame her? He hardly ever spilled his guts. Finally he sighed and said, “I love you, Momma.”
“I love you too, baby. Get some sleep. I’ll think on it.”
It was a sure sign how tired he was that he had no idea what she was thinking on. He said “Okay” and hung up and went to lie down and watch Shane breathe. The rest he would work out later.
Chapter Six
THE DREAMS. Christ. Shane couldn’t wake himself up, couldn’t think, and couldn’t fucking breathe. Galen was screaming and melting and shit, and at one point Vic was dressed like Carmen Miranda and his mom was there, wielding a cast-iron skillet and threatening to bean him with it. Shit.
Just.
Shit.
“Darlin’. Ease up. Ease up, you’re dreaming.” He wasn’t sure when Galen stopped screaming and started petting him, but he liked the whole hat look better than the dripping skin melty thing.
“Dreaming.” He liked dreaming. Except for the whole…. “Do alligators eat pineapples?”
Oh.
Pineapples.
Yum.
GALEN WATCHED Shane carefully for a couple of days, but he seemed pretty good. No ill effects save for a tiny hangover the next day.
Sometimes he was grateful for Shane’s ability to bounce back.
And not only during sex.
In fact, he would bet the farm Shane was sick of him hovering, of poking and peering. He didn’t want to say so.
Galen sat next to Shane on the couch. “You all right, darlin’?”
Shane looked over, grinned, hand sliding along his thigh. “Right as rain. Honest. It was just a little loopy. I’m cool.”
“Oh, good.” He should shut the hell up. Galen leaned in, arm going around Shane.
Shane snuggled in, all smiles and wandering fingers. “We should do something to celebrate my amazing allrightedness.”
“We should.” That made him grin back, made him relax for the first time in days. He leaned in even more, took a kiss. Shane met him halfway, kiss happy and eager, to
ngue pressing right into his lips.
He kissed Shane hard, showing all of his pent-up nerves, all of his need from the last few days of treating him like glass. He got a happy sound for his troubles, Shane climbing into his lap and rubbing against him.
They were really getting into the celebration when the damned doorbell rang, making them both jump.
Shane tilted his head, blinked. “We expecting company?”
“No.” Galen lifted Shane up, set him aside. “Maybe it’s Victor.”
He headed for the door, dodging Shane’s swat.
“You be nice about Victor, now. He was a good gator.”
“He was.” Well, well, well. He opened the door up, and there was his momma, plain as day, a big old picnic basket in one hand, a cooler in the other.
She smiled. “Hey, baby. Let me in. This shit is heavy.”
“Len? Is that your momma?” Shane peeked around the door, smiling. “Well, hey, lady!”
“Hey, Shane. Since Galen is just gonna stand and stare at me, you can help. This is for you, anyway.” She held out the picnic basket, pushed past Galen, and handed it to Shane.
It… wiggled.
Shane tilted his head and took the basket. “For me? Momma?”
Shane took a step back, eyes going wide as the basket whined.
“Well, open it up, boy.” Momma handed Galen the cooler. “I brought you chess and meringue pies and a chicken dinner.”
“Oooh… pie!” Shane sat on the floor, popped the top of the basket open, and… well, sort of made a peeping noise, but louder. “Oh. Oh, Len! Look!”
“What?” Galen bent, looked, and sure enough, there was some kind of dog, all floppy ears and wrinkly face. “Lord, Lord.”
“Oh….” Shane looked like a kid—an incredibly muscled, studly, tanned kid—as he carefully lifted the puppy up and cradled it close. “Oh, damn. Look at you. Look at you.” Those bright eyes gleamed up at Momma. “What’s its name?”
“He doesn’t have a name, honey. It’s up to you. He’s just been weaned. Can you believe he was abandoned with his littermates on the side of the road?”
Galen had to smile; his momma sounded so outraged, and Shane looked so damned cute.