Set Ablaze

by KC Burn

  An angry grumble from his stomach interrupted his musing, reminding him he’d slept past both breakfast and lunch. Hopefully he could find something in Hayden’s kitchen to eat, since grocery shopping would have to wait until tomorrow when Hayden was off again. Jez had no delusions about his ability to buy a car in an afternoon, even if he could afford to walk right into a showroom and buy something new off the lot. Which he couldn’t.

  Exploring the attic was tempting but would have to wait for another day. He needed to investigate the pantry and then review car-shopping venues and consumer reports. He tucked Fang away in his room—no sense letting him get used to having the run of the house—then sprinted back down to the kitchen.

  The house echoed a bit, had an odd sense of emptiness that it hadn’t had the day before. Hayden left his mark on a space, which maybe wasn’t hard in this wintry white backdrop. But Jez hadn’t expected to miss that presence, even as Hayden’s absence allowed Jez to relax, as much as he could. Relaxing hadn’t come easy in the past weeks, even before he’d decided moving away—fleeing—was the smartest thing he could do. It would be a long time before he felt safe, if he ever could. For now, he had pills to create a reasonable facsimile of calm, but if the change of location didn’t help, he’d have to add finding a therapist to his ever-growing mental to-do list.

  Jez sighed. Hayden made him nervous but also strangely made him feel safe. The dichotomy made him wonder if he was losing his fucking mind, for real this time. Hayden should have unnerved him, period. But he suspected spending the night alone in this creaky house would rattle him even more. Last night he’d slept deeply and for a long time, and he didn’t think he could attribute that to the nearly three-thousand-mile displacement from where his life had imploded.

  CURLED UP on Hayden’s amazingly comfortable leather couch, Jez watched another movie as he ate popcorn and shared a bit with Fang, who cuddled up beside him. What Hayden didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. With Fang’s super short hair, he didn’t shed much, and Hayden was working a twenty-four-hour shift. No need to keep his baby locked up when it was just Jez rattling around this big place.

  He leaned forward, listening closely to the dialogue. The couple was in bed, confessing their love for each other, but their voices were quieter than the previous scene. He had picked up the remote to raise the volume when a loud bang propelled him to his feet. Fang let out a woof as Jez whirled around, glancing from the window to the door. Clutching the remote in suddenly chilled fingers, he tried to ignore his racing heart.

  It took him a fraction of a second to figure out he’d heard a car door slam, and another twenty minutes of staring fixedly at the television for the adrenaline to drain away. The last time he’d been in such a large house, he’d lived at home, and with his parents and siblings, he’d almost never been home alone.

  Sudden bursts of sound, like a car driving by with loud music or the occasional siren, startled him. The walls of his New York apartment had had paper-thin walls, but even though he’d been living on his own, the tight quarters and knowing other people were mere feet away comforted him. Hayden’s place felt a lot more isolated, and if Jez thought about it too hard, he could imagine himself in a horror movie.

  Just thinking about horror movies had him up again, closing the blinds. Felt a bit like someone might be watching him, even though that was ridiculous. He was scaring himself a bit.

  But being too scared to sleep would be a humiliation Jez didn’t need, whether or not Hayden or his brother ever learned the truth. Instead, he wrapped his favorite fleece throw around himself—Hayden would have an apoplexy at the riot of color—and concentrated on the romance.

  At least he’d been able to cobble together something to eat. The pizza had been good, but not two days in a row. Hayden wasn’t a complete caveman when it came to food. He obviously cooked—it wasn’t easy to keep in such good shape living on takeout and ready-made food—but meat, cheese, and eggs figured heavily into it. But Jez had found enough vegetables and seasonings to whip together a decent stir-fry, and the can of baked beans he’d found at the back of the cupboard were vegetarian, so he’d eaten those as well to get a bit of protein. Probably Hayden had bought the vegetarian version by mistake, but it worked in Jez’s favor.

  He wouldn’t starve, and maybe Hayden would still be willing to take him grocery shopping tomorrow. Buying a car was going to take more effort than he’d thought—there were just so damned many, and all the features and prices and consumer reports made him feel like he was back in school. He loved to read when he wasn’t dancing, but he read novels, not research. Figuring out what kind of car to buy when it had been years since he’d even driven one? That kind of reading made his head spin.

  Given the size of Hayden’s truck, he didn’t think he’d get appropriate advice from his new roomie. Maneuvering the rental truck had put him off driving anything large. Small, sweet, reliable, and inexpensive. Those were the four keywords, and yet somehow it wasn’t as simple as he’d thought it would be.

  His phone rang, and Jez glanced at the screen. Miguel. If it were anyone else, he’d let it roll to voicemail.

  “Hi, Miguel.” Jez paused the movie as he answered.

  “Hey, baby bro.”

  Jez rolled his eyes. His big brother bent over backward to sound like a dude bro, and it irritated the fuck out of Jez. Maybe because he’d been picked on and harassed by so many of them. “What’s up?”

  “Just checking to see how you’re settling in. Hayden’s okay, right?”

  Jez didn’t even know what that last question meant. “Sure. He’s okay. Everything’s good.” He and Miguel might not have visited with each other the whole time Jez lived in New York, but they spoke on the phone on a regular basis. Nothing too deep, but it was a connection, and Jez was grateful to have his brother in his life. Miguel worried about him, even if he never wanted to hear about Jez’s dating life.

  “I’m heading out to a couple of clubs tonight with some friends. Did you want to come with me? I know Hayden’s on shift today.”

  Miguel deserved a cookie. He made the offer without sounding like he’d rather get his wisdom teeth extracted without anesthesia, even though Jez knew damn well Miguel didn’t want him to say yes. And he was 60 or 70 percent sure Miguel would even include him in conversations and such when he could. However, it was Saturday night, Miguel wouldn’t be setting foot in a gay club, and Jez had no real inclination to hang around a bunch of testosterone-poisoned straight men while Miguel and his friends did their best to sleep with the female population of Los Angeles.

  “Thanks, M, but I’m still beat from that long drive. Maybe next time.” Jez wasn’t an actor for nothing, because he didn’t sound like he’d agree round about the same time Satan next went ice-skating.

  “Sure. Sure. Need anything?”

  Jez sighed. “I don’t know. Think you could take me to look at some cars this week?”

  Miguel made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “Mm-hmm. Maybe. I’ve got four days off starting Wednesday, but I’m heading up to Big Bear Lake with some of the guys to camp. I’ll be spending most of my day off Monday running errands for that. Can it wait until next week?”

  “Yeah. Sure. No rush.” Filming didn’t start until the first week in November, although he had to attend some earlier preproduction meetings. Who knew? Maybe Jez would figure out on his own what kind of car he should get before then and the problem would be solved.

  “Is Hayden going camping with you?”

  “Nah. We’ve got plans to trade out for a long weekend cold-weather camping after Thanksgiving sometime, but he’s not going this time.”

  Jez wasn’t sure if he should be pleased and relieved, but he was, even though Hayden’s four-off started Tuesday—according to the calendar attached to the fridge—and Jez wasn’t sure how he’d smuggle Fang out to do his business while Hayden was hanging around. Then again, maybe Hayden had enough of a social life that he’d be gone for most of it anyway.


  Given the heated looks Hayden had maybe directed toward Jez, would he still date women? Was he bisexual? Closeted? A tiny spot of blackness curdled in his belly. Man or woman, he didn’t think he was at all interested in being around when Hayden brought a sexual partner back to the house.

  Not a problem to discuss with his brother. Anything related to Jez’s sex life or career made Miguel uncomfortable enough to talk over Jez or change the subject.

  As if Jez planned to tell his big brother about the first time he came from a prostate massage or got rimmed. Those weren’t details for family, even if Miguel hadn’t had a pathological fear of TMI.

  “Have a good time camping.” Jez wanted to be upset that Miguel hadn’t dropped everything to help him, but it had all been so last-minute, so it wasn’t fair to blame Miguel. After all, he had made sure Jez had a safe place to stay.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Jez rolled his eyes again. “Did you want to maybe have dinner sometime? Maybe after your trip?”

  “Sure, sure. We can go when Hayden and I have a day off together. The three of us could go. It would be fun.”

  The three of them? Was Miguel worried about being seen with him? Or was he just worried about awkward silence?

  “Sounds like fun.” That still left Jez on his own far too much. Dammit. He was going to have to find some friends. Most of his friends in New York… well, they hadn’t had his back when he needed them, and he’d left them behind as surely as he’d done everything else. Which left him with Fang. Who was great, but a little light on verbal repartee and absolute shit at giving advice.

  “Gotta go,” Miguel said. With the unmistakable sound of a dude bro herd becoming audible in the background, Jez wasn’t surprised.

  “Have fun tonight.”

  Miguel laughed into the phone before the call cut off. Yes, that was the sound of a man intending to get laid. Jez was a tiny bit jealous, because it had been so long, and breaking his dry spell required suitable prospects. He had none. Not until he figured out where the good clubs were—some way other than wandering aimlessly through West Hollywood—and if he could get there without having a panic attack.

  Also, he needed to regain some of his energy, both mental and physical. His recent relationship with Jayson had almost convinced him psychic vampires were real. Jayson had drained him dry, and only adrenaline had kept Jez running all the way to Los Angeles. Now the adrenaline had worn off and Jez had zero reserves.

  If he went out, he’d want to have fun as well as get off. No chance of that if the clubs here were anything like the clubs he frequented back in New York. The crush of guys, the sweat, the heat levels, the pulse of a bass beat that throbbed deep in the gut… these were all things he usually liked. With his recent anxiety, though, he’d last a good thirty or forty seconds before he ran out screaming. Not exactly cock-raising material, for anyone involved.

  “You still love me, don’t you, Fang?” Fang wiggled his butt and corkscrew tail before climbing up Jez to lick at his chin, making Jez laugh. “Good boy.”

  For now, all the excitement he needed was happening on-screen. If he was desperate to get off, he had porn, lube, and a private shower. An embarrassment of options. And if he was tempted to roll around in Hayden’s sheets while he stroked one off, that was a secret he didn’t need to share with anyone. Not even Fang.

  AGAIN WITH the super long showers. Hayden would really have to say something. The drought might be temporarily over, but that didn’t mean squandering water was a good idea. It just wasn’t as plentiful as it was on the East Coast.

  He checked his watch. If they didn’t get going soon, the grocery store would be jammed with the postchurch crowd shopping for Sunday supper and the hungover brunchgoers who’d realized they’d be eating takeout all week if they didn’t do something, and Hayden hated getting caught up in that. Sometimes he got groceries delivered, but most times he went shopping either just before or just after a shift on a weekday. That kept him from getting homicidal. No one seemed to have a plan, just meandering, carts wobbling back and forth along the aisles. Was it so hard to push a cart as you’d drive down a street? Sticking to the right? And the number of people who didn’t seem to have lists or know if they had more than fifteen items or even know where they’d put their fucking wallet grew exponentially on the weekend.

  As a rule, he never went shopping on Sunday unless he could go before his shift, not after. The moment he walked out of the station at eleven was already too fucking late for groceries, never mind coming back to pick up Jez only to find him still in the shower. He also hadn’t been thrilled to find Jez’s dishes from the previous night still in the sink when he’d come home. Washing the dishes hadn’t taken long, but he’d still expected Jez to be done before he was. Nope.

  The time kept ticking, and Hayden desperately wanted to call off this errand and crash for a few hours, but that wasn’t fair to Jez. Hayden’s pantry was not suited to a vegan diet, and he didn’t want Jez to starve. But neither did he want to spend any more time in a grocery store than he had to.

  Screw it.

  Hayden bounded up the stairs and paused outside the door of the guest bathroom. What if this wasn’t a simple case of luxuriating under the hot water? What if Jez was jerking off?

  Now, like the day Jez had moved in, Hayden couldn’t stop thinking about Jez in the shower. Those thoughts had consumed far too many of his waking hours at the station as well, truth be told, contributing to his pissy mood today. Developing any sort of attraction to Miguel’s brother was bad news in itself, but Jez…. What would he do with Jez? Jez who was obviously gay. Who seemed to hit most of the stereotypes right on the head. Whose fine, round, tight ass swayed ever so perfectly when he walked—bordering on sashaying—even when he was carrying cardboard boxes. Hayden had arranged most of moving day so that he was behind Jez, imagining kneading that ass, licking it, biting it, and fucking it for days on end.

  It was one thing to fuck a guy like that at a club. His friends wouldn’t be around to make crude comments, so no risk of making either of them uncomfortable. No risk of even having to introduce them—hookups didn’t get introduced to friends. But it seemed likely, given Jez’s relationship to Miguel and being situated in Hayden’s guest room, that Jez would end up getting invited to activities with the guys. He wouldn’t fit in, and it would be even worse if anyone thought they were involved.

  Hayden shuddered. Miguel would kill him for lusting after Jez, and the guys would either hate him or mock him. He didn’t care for either option, but neither could he forget that smooth brown strip of skin—the very first part of adult Jez he’d spied. Wondering if it would be as smooth against his tongue as it looked had kept him half-aroused and fully irate since Friday afternoon.

  He straightened his back. His willpower was strong. Strong enough to withstand a lean scrap of sexiness. He was in control of his destiny—and his fucking cock—and he was going to ignore his desire. Exhibiting control was something he did almost every day. When facing down a blaze, when the exhilaration of adrenaline warred with its fear aspects and sometimes it was a battle to remain calm rather than to plunge wildly forward or run as fast as he could in the other direction. Resisting one slender actor should be a fucking breeze in comparison.

  Then the door opened in a swirl of condensation, Jez standing right there, wide-eyed, smelling like warm sugar, and most devastating of all, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. Hayden bit back a groan as his willpower melted away, as the fates laughed wickedly. Hayden hadn’t ever met anyone who hit all his buttons like this. Had he been mistaken about his “usual” type? An odd fluttering took place in his gut as his mind blanked. He leaned in and lifted his hands.

  “Uh. Hi. Is something wrong?”

  Hayden’s ears heated. He’d been so lost in his impossible thoughts he hadn’t heard the water turn off. Hopefully Jez wouldn’t realize how close Hayden had come to grabbing him and kissing him.

  “No. Yes.” His cheeks joined the pa
rty, and Hayden inwardly cursed skin that flushed red under all sorts of emotional circumstances, including utter embarrassment. “I mean, it’s better to get to the store before it gets busy. Sunday afternoons can be bad. And also… you might not recall, but California is prone to droughts?”

  Whoa. Way to not waffle. And his sarcasm was off the charts. Hayden wished he could go back downstairs and forget this ridiculous conversation had ever happened.

  “Oh. Shit. Sorry. I guess I ought to take shorter showers.”

  Hayden shrugged like it didn’t matter to him. Like it hadn’t propelled him upstairs, intent on letting Jez know the score. Like he hadn’t been distracted by the thought of opening up that fucking towel and sucking on what lay beneath. Because he was starting to suspect his irritation over long showers had roots in his inability to feel settled since Jez had shown up on his doorstep. His annoyance over the dirty dishes was founded on a hatred of dirty dishes and was completely rational, but perhaps Hayden could give Jez a free pass. If it continued, Hayden would be sure to say something.

  Jez cleared his throat, and Hayden dragged his gaze up from Jez’s delectable chest to meet his eyes, a muscle involuntarily ticking in his temple, a physical manifestation of his growing annoyance—with himself.

  Jez was waiting, and Hayden pulled on his memory. Right. They’d been having a conversation, however stilted. “Shorter showers. Yes. Just do your best. We’re not on water rations or anything, but there are still regulations to adhere to about watering the lawn and things.”

  Watering the lawn? He was a fucking idiot. It wasn’t going to matter what opinion Hayden’s cock had on the matter, Jez wasn’t going to want anything to do with him if he didn’t get his shit together.

  Jez nodded. “So if we’re going to get going, I have to, uh, go get dressed.”

  Which was when Hayden realized he’d blocked Jez in the bathroom. While he leered. Yeah, that wasn’t going to win him any prizes in the best-roommate competition.