by KC Burn
When they weren’t on dates, they spent their time taking Fang on walks or doing household tasks or fucking. After that cathartic session on the couch, Jez had more or less moved into Hayden’s bed. Hayden had never shared a bed for actual sleeping before, but it was good. Great, even. He slept better and deeper than he had in a long while, and he discovered a previously unknown love of morning sex. Having never woken up with anyone, he hadn’t realized how enjoyable the sleepy, lazy buildup to orgasms could be.
They cooked together, melding their meals so they had common elements, even if Hayden’s had meat and cheese and Jez’s had neither. By now, the domesticity didn’t frighten him, and he was coming to care for Jez more and more each day. Sometimes that scared him. Could he trust feelings that came on so fast? He had to, because losing Jez would break him.
Tonight Hayden had told Jez they could do a meat-free meal, as long as there wasn’t any tofu—that was Hayden’s line in the sand—and Jez had put a meat-free chili in the Crock-Pot a few hours ago. Maybe Hayden would be able to test out more of Jez’s food, but as far as he was concerned, things that needed a taste “developed” for them weren’t worth eating. Maybe for their anniversary, assuming Hayden wasn’t jumping the gun, he’d figure out how to cook something vegan that they both loved. He had lots of time to research it.
Hayden was putting the finishing touches on the apple pie for dessert. It would be just for him and Miguel, since the crust was bursting with butter, but Jez assured him he’d be fine with some coconut milk ice cream. Hayden would have to research vegan desserts as well. That might take a lot more time than just a vegan meal. A proper dessert without dairy or eggs seemed impossible, but Jez assured him it wasn’t. Hell, even standard marshmallows and Jell-O weren’t vegan, and that had shocked the shit out of Hayden.
Hayden heard the pipes clank, signaling the end of Jez’s shower. They’d chosen to shower separately, because Hayden couldn’t be trusted to keep his hands to himself and they didn’t want Miguel to arrive in the midst of some good clean—but dirty—sudsy fun.
One last tweak of the crust and Hayden slipped the pie into the oven, then opened a bottle of wine. No reason they couldn’t get started on that. A little pregame courage. He poured a bit into two glasses and took a sip before Jez padded barefoot into the kitchen.
He was wearing the exact same outfit he’d worn the day he’d moved in, with the unicorn shitting rainbows and tight jeans.
“Feeling nervous?” Hayden handed Jez the wineglass.
Jez let out a strained laugh. “How can you tell?”
He stared meaningfully at the shirt. “The rainbow shit shirt. You wore that the day you moved in. I’m thinking maybe it’s a shirt that… reminds you who you are.”
This time Jez’s laugh was more relaxed. “Yeah, you’re right. I have a couple of shirts that are in-your-face gay, and depending on the situation, it feels a little like putting on armor or something.”
“Well, I hope we don’t need rainbow armor for this, because I don’t have anything suitable.”
“Hah. Maybe we can find something for you. Too late for tonight, but there’s bound to be future situations that require the might of rainbow shit.” Jez grabbed both their glasses and set them on the counter before moving into Hayden’s arms and lifting his face for a kiss.
Hayden didn’t know how long they kissed lazily, never quite tipping over into frantic and aroused, but he had a half chub when the doorbell rang. Fang skittered to the door, barking wildly, although given his almost silent barks, it ended up being more hilarious than annoying. He wouldn’t be scaring off any would-be burglars.
They pulled apart, a tiny frown creasing Jez’s forehead. Hayden didn’t know if it was because they’d been interrupted or because Jez wasn’t looking forward to this either, but he could sympathize. If Hayden could put this off forever, he would, but even without having made an appointment with a therapist, he’d started to see procrastination was one of his primary coping mechanisms, and it didn’t help him cope at all.
Hayden left him puttering in the kitchen while he answered the door. “Hey.”
Miguel was twitching in just the same way as Jez. Hayden might be the least nervous of the three of them.
“Hey, man. When did you get a dog?” Miguel crouched down and greeted Fang, some of his nervous tension disappearing under the overwhelming onslaught of cute.
“I didn’t. Fang is your brother’s.” For now. Hayden hoped they’d get to a point where Fang would be theirs, but they weren’t there yet.
“Jesús has a dog?” Miguel shook his head. “I mean, Jez. Shit, he hates it like poison when I slip up and call him Jesús.”
“Yes, Jez has a dog.” Unbelievable. Considering how much Jez loved that furry little mite, the fact he hadn’t shouted Fang’s presence to the rooftops was amazing. “His name is Fang.”
That coaxed a snort of laughter from Miguel. “Fang?” He made a couple of ridiculous kissy faces at Fang before standing and brushing off his pants.
Hayden wondered if Fang’s name was the doggie equivalent of the rainbow shit shirt. Had Jez intended to give Fang some armor, rather than it being a humorous and ironic name?
“C’mon. Dinner’s ready to dish up. Did you want some wine or beer?”
“Beer. Please.” Miguel squared his shoulders and followed Hayden into the dining room, where Jez was already setting food on the table. He went to grab Miguel his beer, and then the three of them sat down to dinner.
“You’re vegan?” Miguel was aghast. Yet another thing the brothers hadn’t bothered talking about. Jez’s insistence on communication was starting to make a lot more sense, because it was obvious that the brothers might talk on the phone, but they didn’t communicate well. Or maybe Miguel was a terrible listener.
Maybe Jez thought better communication would have made his relationship with Jayson less painful. A noble sentiment, but deluded. After all, no communicating in the world was going to change the fact that Jayson had a screw loose. Getting dumped hadn’t pushed him into a mental breakdown. He’d been consciously and methodically spying on Jez to gather his passwords. That spoke of sociopathy at the very least. But now that Hayden was sitting at what might be the most painful and awkward blind date ever between two men who shouldn’t be such strangers, well, he knew where Jez was coming from.
After some stilted small talk, the conversation stalled. Hayden was ready to rip off the bandage. “I gotta know, Miguel, why didn’t you tell me about Jez’s career? Why didn’t you tell me he was gay? It wasn’t like you didn’t know about me. How is it you don’t seem to know anything about your brother?”
Miguel took a long swig of beer like he was fortifying himself.
“Are you ashamed of me?” Jez asked.
Miguel wasn’t a good enough actor to fake looking that stricken. “Mi hermano, no, of course not.” He blinked rapidly, eyes shining in the yellowish light of the dining room, the lapse into Spanish startling Hayden. Back when he was a kid, he’d heard it a lot, but once Miguel moved to LA, he’d started to sound a lot more like a surfer or a frat boy. “I was always, always so worried for you. I still am. I guess I thought if I didn’t talk about it, if no one knew, you couldn’t get hurt again. And when you moved across the country? I don’t know, hearing the details of your life… I could imagine how it could all go wrong. And you’ve met Jordan and Vic. Pendejos. If I told them you were an actor, it seemed… safer. God. Seeing you in that hospital bed just about killed me. I never want to see that again.”
Hayden straightened up, all senses on alert. “Hospital. What the fuck happened? When was this?”
Jez glanced away. “More skeletons from my closet. I guess I was hoping not to off-load them all in my first month here.”
“Please tell me.” Miguel’s presence more or less faded from Hayden’s notice as he focused on Jez.
“It’s water under the bridge, I promise. You’d been gone from Willow Ridge for years, but I’m sure you remember
, it wasn’t gay friendly.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “Uh, no. I’m well aware. Our parents went to the same church, and when I came out, mine threatened me with conversion therapy before I skipped town.” A fist of dread lodged itself in his throat. “That… is that what happened?”
“No. Not that. Anyway, I wanted to be a dancer. Forever. The summer before my senior year, I went to New York for a few weeks. My parents thought I’d gone for an internship, but I’d really gone to a dance program at NYU designed for high school students. It was enough to convince me I was good enough to get in, and in senior year, I applied to all the schools my parents knew about, plus a bunch of dance programs that they didn’t. I got a scholarship to NYU, and everything was all set. You know my parents. They couldn’t read English very well, and they just didn’t know. Day after the graduation party, I got jumped by some of the guys from school. Bashed. I’d been indiscreet during the party, starting to loosen up a little, knowing it was all going to be over in a few months. I’d be in New York and free.”
The fist of dread moved down to Hayden’s gut, and he pushed what was left of his dinner away. He had a bad feeling about what was coming next. “Were you badly hurt?” Stupid question. Yes, since he’d been in the hospital, but Hayden had also seen the man dance, so nothing debilitating. And it was also long over and done.
“Dios, I barely recognized him. Face swollen, shattered cheekbone, bruises everywhere, pissing blood, broken arm.” Miguel’s voice shook at the litany.
“Yeah, I don’t remember too much about the attack and immediate aftermath. I needed surgery to fix my cheekbone, so most stuff is a blur until after that. But I remember very clearly my parents and Miguel coming into the hospital room. They knew why I’d gotten jumped, and they’d found out about the dance scholarship at NYU. Mom called dancing ‘foolishness,’ and my dad said he hoped the guys had beaten some sense into me. If not, he’d have to take care of it later. Miguel, I think, was totally speechless.”
Why had Hayden thought doing this over dinner was a good idea? He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to eat again. Miguel looked almost gray, and he’d also pushed his dinner aside. And not because it was vegan either. The chili had been good enough that Hayden could make it at the firehouse and not get bitched at. Miguel had been eating just fine until this had come up.
“I can’t believe your parents would say that.” Hayden’s parents had threatened him with conversion torture, but they hadn’t intended to administer it themselves.
Miguel sighed. “I heard them talking at home. About how Jesús—he was still Jesús back then—had been coddled too much. The spoiled baby of the family. They weren’t planning to keep him in the hospital as long as the doctors had recommended, but were going to bring him home. Papa was going to get him a job, and they’d decided that the summer he’d spent in New York had given him godless ideas, and if he wasn’t going to go to a local school, he wouldn’t be going at all. Dance, of course, would not be allowed.”
Jez finally looked up from his intent study of his half-eaten dinner to see Miguel smiling at him fondly, and smiled sadly back. Hayden wanted to hug him so bad but wasn’t sure that was appropriate since they hadn’t told Miguel about them yet. But he was glad to see that whatever mistakes Miguel had made, it hadn’t been because he didn’t love his brother.
“Can we move this to the den? It’s more comfortable, and I just can’t look at this food any longer.” Jez sounded about as depressed as Hayden had ever heard, and he intended to make it a life goal to never hear that defeated tone from Jez ever again. He wouldn’t even insist on the dishes getting cleared right away.
They moved into the den, Hayden sitting in his regular spot on the couch. As had become their new normal, Jez sat down beside him and snuggled up against his shoulder, feet curled up on the couch. It was impossible to do anything but wrap his arm around Jez, haul him in close, then give him a kiss on the temple. Fang followed them up—it hadn’t taken them long to buy a third set of steps so Fang could navigate the couch—and rested his head on Jez’s ankles with a grunt. Miguel sat in one of the club chairs, then twisted in his seat to stare at them, eyes wide.
Hayden tensed momentarily, but an enormous smile split Miguel’s face. “Really? You two are hitting it?” And there was the surfer dude, back like he’d never been gone.
Jez snorted. “We’re not hitting it, doofus.” Doofus. Hayden hadn’t heard that word since the last time he’d been in the same spot as both brothers, when Jez was twelve. “We’re….”
Hayden bit his lip to keep from laughing. He wondered how Jez was going to explain it to big brother.
“We’re… dating. Intending it to become a relationship.”
Eh. Not bad, although in Hayden’s mind they were already in a relationship.
“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
An odd thought snuck into Hayden’s brain. “You weren’t… you weren’t trying to set us up, were you?”
Miguel laughed. “Not intentionally, no. But my two favorite people, both single, and a way to put you in the same place at the same time? I wasn’t going to spit in the face of fate.”
No, Hayden understood that. And it made him even more confident that Miguel also thought his and Jez’s coming together was fate.
“But you hurt my baby bro and we’ll have words, mi amigo.” Interesting. The friend he’d had growing up and the surfer dude combined. That had never happened, but maybe with Jez around, Hayden might see it more.
“I think we’re safe.” Hayden sighed. “I almost don’t want to hear it, but I need to hear what happened after the hospital.”
Miguel’s expression became serious again, and Jez pressed in tighter.
“I waited until my parents went out; then I packed a bag with anything related to the dance program and as many clothes and such as I could fit, drove to the hospital, and took him away.”
“Miguel, that’s dangerous! Why would you do that?”
“My parents were planning to do it anyway, and quite frankly, I didn’t trust them to let him recuperate at home. I took him to the cheapest reputable motel until I could find a furnished apartment with a short-term lease, and lied to my parents about working extra shifts. I paid for a nurse to come in and check on him while I was working my actual shifts, and slowly, he got better. Maxed out my credit cards too, but it was worth it. Fortunately he didn’t need regular nursing for long, because I couldn’t afford much in the way of doctor’s visits. All the while, I was sending out applications to any fire station in the LA area that had an opening. I wasn’t ready to leave California or break entirely from the family, so applying to New York was out, but moving several hours away to be near my best friend seemed like the best solution.”
Huh. So Miguel moving near him hadn’t been entirely because he’d missed Hayden, but this was an even better reason.
“Didn’t your parents wonder where he was?”
Miguel shook his head. “Jez basically up and left, and I don’t think anyone even knew I’d been at the hospital. My parents assumed he’d run away, or maybe hopped a bus to New York. I don’t know if they realized he was barely well enough for a short car ride. The last thing I heard on the matter was my papa saying ‘good riddance.’”
“What about your sisters? Your brother? Didn’t any of them worry?”
“Not that I ever saw.”
Hayden half expected Jez to flinch at that stark response, but he didn’t react at all. Then again, he’d had years to come to terms with his family situation. “They didn’t even come to the hospital. That day in the hospital was the last time I spoke to anyone in my family, except for Miguel.”
That made Hayden flinch. Fucking hell. Hayden’s family might have been small, but a full third—his gran—had been supportive.
“And the scholarship?”
Jez drew random patterns on Hayden’s thigh, far enough down that Hayden’s stupid cock with its one-track sex mind didn’t get the wron
g idea. “I wasn’t sure I was going to be well enough to make it. A week before school started, Miguel flew us both out there, helped me set up my dorm room, and made sure I had doctors through the school who could continue my care and provide documentation that would help me keep my place in the program until I was done healing and got my strength back. The school was horrified by what had happened and made allowances for me. And I’d had all summer to recuperate. It was only a few more weeks before I was back to a hundred percent. I didn’t think so at the time, but I was very lucky. If those guys had busted my knees or dislocated my shoulders, most likely I wouldn’t have a dance career. But a couple of broken bones, one of them in my face? Yeah, that was about the best-case scenario.”
Thing was, Jez was wrong. A busted knee wasn’t the worst-case scenario. Jez could have been killed, and Hayden would never have gotten to know him. That sparked a whole new brand of fear Hayden hadn’t experienced before.
“Anyway, the scholarship covered the bare minimum of school and living expenses, but Miguel still sent me a bit of money and presents now and again until I finally got my first paying job.”
Hayden hugged Jez and rocked him gently. He didn’t bother to ask if the guys had been arrested. With Jez disappearing from the hospital and the Perezes unlikely to press the issue, any investigation would have petered out.
The silence lengthened, broken only by Fang’s breathy puppy snores. As painful as this discussion had already been, they weren’t done yet.
“Look, Miguel, I’m done with Jordan. He’s said too much that I can’t forgive. And I know Vic is your friend, but I can’t deal with him anymore either. You are always welcome to come over and whatever, but only if Vic isn’t with you.”
Miguel’s cheeks got dark and blotchy in a way Hayden saw only when he was extremely embarrassed. “Dios. He was awful last week. He’s not so terrible at the station, but he just feeds off cues from Jordan. I understand totally. I haven’t been hanging out with him as much lately because he is just so angry all the time.”