He went out onto the porch, keeping the screen door open, and Becca twisted to see who it was. She sat cross-legged on the grass beside the driver’s side door with paints in hand. The horrible spray paint was disappearing under what looked to be a folk-art circus.
“Hi Phil! Is Lee sleeping?”
“Yeah.” He tried not to look as afraid as he felt, but couldn’t stop looking around.
“Bruce is staying with Uncle Lenny for a while. He was born there, so he likes it just fine. He gets to visit his momma and play with his brother.”
“Do you mind if I watch you?”
“Nope.” She patted the ground, and Phil sat cross-legged beside her. “I’m glad you’re here. Lee needed a good boyfriend. I have a boyfriend.”
“What’s his name?”
She sighed and tilted her head, smiling a dreamy smile. “Chris. He has blue eyes too. Like the blue crayon, not like a winter sky like yours.”
“Is he an artist too?”
“He doesn’t paint, but he is an artist. He’s a sculptor.”
“Wow. What does he sculpt?”
Becca glanced at him and before it could get too deep, her frown disappeared. “He made the vase on the kitchen table.”
Phil’s mind did a double take. The vase was about eighteen inches tall, looked like a stylized lily, and almost seemed to be moving in a breeze. The term art nouveau sprang to mind, but he wasn’t sure it was right.
“Whoa. He’s really good.”
“You bet he is. And he’s a good sculptor too.”
They smiled and Phil offered to go back inside and get her something to drink. She opened the box beside her and showed him an unopened can of Mountain Dew.
“That’s cool. Everything fits inside so neatly.”
“Yep. It’s really a tackle box, for fishing, but Lee gave it to me for my paints on my sweet sixteen birthday.”
The purple tackle box sparkled with rhinestones and glitter, every bit of space filled with paints of all colors and different sized brushes.
“Are you the artist who painted the beautiful pictures on the house and barn?”
She nodded and painted a few musical notes rising from the guitar that covered part of the letter “g.” A handsome and buff ringmaster played the guitar, slung low the way Lee held his bass. Instead of a top hat, his surfer hair spilled over the collar of his purple-and-black-striped cutaway jacket. Her hand moved fast, like she was flicking the paint randomly, but that didn’t show in the notes. Everything she painted wasn’t perfect in the “realistic representation” sense, but every figure was charming and unmistakable.
“They’re really cool. I especially like the family of owls over the door of the barn.”
“Thanks, Phil. It’s really a greenhouse now, but it used to be a barn a long time ago. Before me and Lee were even born. Do you want to paint too?” She pushed the tackle box a little closer to him.
“Thanks, but I’ve never painted before. I don’t want to mess up what you’re doing.”
She frowned and shook her head. “You won’t mess it up. I’ll give you something easy to do. Like this.” She loaded a brush with light blue paint and handed it to Phil. “Paint his belt. It’s just a line. You can’t mess it up unless you make it perfectly straight.”
Becca didn’t release the brush until Phil looked at her—she was trying not to laugh. When he got the joke, she let him take the brush and scooted out of the way.
“Okay, then I can’t mess it up. I’ve never been p-perfectly straight.”
He painted the belt on the ringmaster and then watched Becca’s smile fade. She looked up at the house.
“Lee’s having a bad dream.” She took the brush from his hand. “You should go wake him up. Gently.”
Phil heard the shouting as soon as he got inside, and ran upstairs. He woke Lee, but it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be, so describing his actions as gentle didn’t exactly fit. At first Lee panted loudly, as though he’d run a long way in a short time, and looked around like he didn’t know where he was. After a moment, he slumped back against the pillows and squeezed his eyes closed.
“Are you okay?”
Lee nodded and then turned his face away.
“Was it about that night?” Phil took Lee’s hand and pulled it into his lap, twining their fingers together. His hand was clammy, so Phil rubbed it.
Lee shook his head. A little while after Phil had decided he wouldn’t say any more, Lee sighed and turned to look at him.
“I… I have a r-recurring nightmare. It’s about m-m… my d-dad.”
Phil squeezed Lee’s hand, and Lee squeezed back.
“He… he killed himself when I was five. I didn’t see it. Mom and Becca and I were visiting Grandma in Portland. But in the dream I do. In the dream, he eats the gun right in f-front of me.”
Phil slid so he sat with his back against the wall, wrapped both arms around Lee, and pulled Lee’s head against his chest. For a moment, when Lee tightened his arms around him, Phil couldn’t breathe. But when Lee relaxed against him, he remembered how.
Once Lee had fallen asleep again—it took a few hours, even though he was obviously exhausted—Phil tried to stay there and get some comfort back. It worked a little bit, but before long, Phil worried his shaking would wake Lee, so he slipped from the bed. He pulled the door almost closed and sat in the hallway with his back against Lee’s bedroom wall, hugged his knees, and bowed his head. He tried to push the guilt away so he wouldn’t embarrass Lee, but it was stronger. Just about everything seemed to be stronger.
I’m a horrible person for being jealous. Maybe Lee’s dad was a better man than the animal that made me.
Phil sat curled in on himself and had just started rocking with the effort of maintaining his last shred of control, when he heard someone reach the top of the stairs. After a moment of silence, she eased into a sitting position beside him.
“Are you okay, Phil?”
Tina’s voice, barely a whisper, froze Phil’s body for 1/800th of a second.
He nodded. “I—yes.”
“Please don’t lie to me. It’s all right if you’re feeling a little off… scared or upset. It’s a natural reaction.”
“I—” Phil sighed and hugged his knees tighter. “I’m okay.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Not only for Lee’s sake.”
Phil felt her turn toward him, and after a moment, he peeked up at her. Her eyes, brown and green and just like Lee’s didn’t hold anything more than that—I’m glad you’re here. No pressure to be here in a certain way, or to be here for only a short time. Phil fell into them, the desire for what he saw there to be real—and not his mind playing tricks it should have outgrown long ago—was larger than his fear. He wasn’t sure if he leaned toward her first or vice versa, but before he had time to reconsider, she enveloped him in her arms and pulled his head onto her shoulder. Phil couldn’t contain his emotions any longer and turned his face into the hollow of her shoulder as he sobbed out the fear and guilt that had clung to him since the moment Lee’s foot slid off the trail. She held him and petted his hair and swayed gently from side to side.
Once he’d come to the end of those feelings that had made each breath a chore and every word and gesture from Lee a gift, he tried to pull away. Tina gently held him where he sat. They sat on the floor in that hallway for a long time, long enough for Phil to feel wholly enveloped by the warmth of her body, long enough for the scent of the greenhouse on her clothes to reach a sore and neglected part of him that he’d ignored for a very long time. He’d noticed it before, the clean soil and crushed herb smell that surrounded both her and Becca like perfume, but in that hallway, he became attached to it. Comforted by it.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Anything you need, I’m here.”
She squeezed him, kissed the side of his forehead, and started to get up. Phil leapt to his feet and offered his hand, and Tina smiled when she took it. And not because it was more tha
n a little ridiculous for him to help her up—someone with about five inches on him. She smiled because she appreciated the help.
They stood in the hallway for a moment. He couldn’t quite look at her, but he felt her attention focused on him. Even though he’d just cried on her shirt, he couldn’t keep a shy smile from his face. She remained silent long enough for Phil to wonder if he should go back into Lee’s room. Before he came to a decision, she reached out her hand, slowly and carefully, and cupped his jaw, gently turning his face up to hers. She smiled and then slipped the tip of her finger under what had once been his bangs and drew his hair away from his face. And then she did the same for the hair above his ear.
“You may want to consider a haircut before too much longer.”
Phil nodded, almost afraid to speak.
“If you boys need anything, just holler.” She smiled in a way that made the word maternal spring to mind, but he couldn’t be sure if that was right. She placed a soft kiss in the center of his forehead and then went into her bedroom and closed the door without a sound.
Phil leaned back against the wall. He stood there in the hallway, leaning against the wall, eyes closed, and just let himself feel cared for.
Jerry cared for him, he knew that, but Tina…. Tina’s caring held a different quality, a sublime something he’d been craving forever. Almost afraid to think it aloud, he dared to dream that maybe he’d found his family.
Phil
PHIL TRIED not to show how badly he wanted Tina and Becca to leave, but after two weeks of sleeping in the same bed and barely daring to touch Lee’s hand, Phil ached for some solitude. He wanted to be alone with Lee. At least the ladies had stayed downstairs after lunch and didn’t have to watch as he failed.
He and Lee lounged on the bed, elbows and ankles touching, e-readers in hand. Phil read the same page for the fourth or fifth time and still couldn’t have said which characters were in the scene, let alone what they were doing. He was preoccupied with not getting an erection and it wasn’t getting any easier. He felt like he was being watched, but when he glanced toward him, Lee clicked to the next page, his face a little flushed and lit up with a grin Phil recognized—sex scene. Then he saw someone in the doorway.
“Hey, Jerry.”
“Hi, Phil. Lee.” Jerry came in and stood at the foot of the bed. “How are you guys doing?”
Phil nodded. “Good, thanks.”
When Lee didn’t answer, Jerry lightly swatted his uncasted foot.
Lee laughed and rested his phone on his chest. “I’m good. Show the girls a good time, all right? They’re overdue.”
“I’ll do my best. If worse comes to worst, Chris will bail me out. Remember to take it easy, guys.”
After a lingering look, Jerry left and his footsteps raced down the stairs. Laughter floated up, and then the sound of the door closing, followed quickly by tires on the gravel road.
“What was that about?” Phil put his Nook on the bedside table and turned to Lee—whose face was even redder than it had been before.
Lee turned his head but otherwise stayed still. Phil tried not to frown too deeply, but he didn’t like feeling so confused.
“I meant to say something sooner but kept forgetting. I know Jerry—I mean, he helped Uncle Lenny get out of a legal scrape once. And Mom went out on a few dates with him.”
Phil nodded, weakness raced through his limbs as the rush of adrenaline mixed with relief. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, only that it was bad. This wasn’t bad—maybe Jerry and Tina would get together and be happy. Maybe they already were.
“That makes sense. It wouldn’t be like Jerry to pick a plumber at random from the Yellow Pages.”
Lee frowned and shook his head. “He uses the Yellow Pages?”
“Yeah. He’s old-fashioned.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t a setup, though. Back when Mom went out with him the first time, I heard he had a guy living with him, but that’s it.”
Phil picked up Lee’s phone and put it on the nightstand beside his Nook. Even if he should care about whether it was a setup, which he wasn’t sure about, he very much did not. When he turned back around, Lee was smiling at him.
“They’re gone. We can do anything we want.”
Phil grinned. “Like make porn movies?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to?”
“I want to do everything.” Lee sighed and then licked his lips.
Phil moaned softly. “Me too.”
Lee twisted and bounced in one motion—almost as graceful as he was capable of when at full physical strength—and faced Phil. His grin stretched into something a little naughty.
“You want to top me?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Ever done it before?”
Phil took Lee’s shoulder and gently pushed him onto his back. “No.”
“But you’ve thought about it.”
Phil sat up and then walked on his knees until he was between Lee’s.
“Not until recently.” Technically, that was true. When it was only an abstract concept and he didn’t know anyone he wanted to know quite that well… those times didn’t count.
Lee nodded slowly. “I’m not good for much besides laying around right now, so you should take advantage of that.”
“Only if you’ll do something for me first.”
Lee chuckled and quirked an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
Phil scooted so his knees were under Lee’s thighs, and then rested both hands on his stomach. After a moment of looking deep into his eyes, Phil said, “You promise never to say anything like that again.”
“Huh?”
“Your self-deprecating comments. I don’t like what I hear in your voice when you—you believe that shit a little too much.” Phil pulled his hands down over Lee’s thighs, never breaking eye contact. “And it’s gotta stop.”
Lee looked like two hands squeezed his throat, instead of gently gripping his thighs. He nodded.
Phil quirked his mouth into a smile, and then he leaned over Lee and rested all of his weight on his left arm. It didn’t happen often, but that was not the time for the bad arm to give out and dump him like a spaz. The only problem with that was Phil only had the one hand free. He put all the pain of the past out of his mind and drew his right hand across Lee’s chest and up over his neck, his fingers tangling in thick surfer hair as he pressed his lips onto Lee’s.
Lee moaned and raised his hips, brushing their bodies together. Phil deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Lee’s mouth. He always seemed to taste a little like chocolate—or maybe that was only the way Phil felt when they kissed. Lee shivered and rested one hand on Phil’s hip.
Phil wasn’t happy about the timing, but there was something he needed to do, so he moved away, little by little, kissing across Lee’s cheek, brushing his lips over his ear. “Give me a minute? I’ll be right back.”
Lee whimpered softly and dropped his hand onto the bed. Phil ducked out into the hall and did what he had to almost without looking. He stripped off his jeans and both of his shirts, and then quickly pulled his long-sleeved shirt back on and buttoned the cuffs in place. He didn’t need to check to be sure no scars showed. During the weeks after Tina hurt her back, while Lee was occupied keeping the greenhouse running, Phil tried a dozen styles of underwear before settling on the boxer briefs. He kicked his clothes back into Lee’s bedroom and pushed the door closed behind him. When he turned around to face him, Lee’s moan made Phil’s dick twitch and strain against the tight but stretchy fabric.
Phil walked to the side of the bed closest to Lee and leaned in for a kiss. He tried to keep it going while he got back up on the bed, but it didn’t quite work out that way. Instead, he felt Lee’s warm breath against his cheek, a hand at his side guiding him close.
“You look so good. Phil, I—” Lee’s words turned into a whimper of protest as Phil moved away from him again.
Phil knelt between Lee’s knees. When Lee open
ed his eyes, he had a light frown of confusion on his face. But all confusion left when Phil hooked his fingers under the waistband of Lee’s plaid sleep pants and pulled. It was Phil’s turn to moan when the soft flannel made it past Lee’s ass and he pulled his left knee to his chest. Seconds later the only thing covered by flannel was Lee’s cast. As soon as Lee’s hard cock slapped against his abs, Phil lowered himself to rub their bodies together. He tried to take it easy, to go slow and draw it out, but resting his body on Lee’s made that impossible.
Lee arched his back and cried out, and then Phil felt Lee’s strong hands grab his ass. Lee pulled him closer and ground their bodies together. At the same time, Phil snaked one hand up into Lee’s hair and the other between their hips. Phil moaned when Lee’s hands slid under his waistband and over his skin. Instead of grabbing Lee’s dick, Phil pushed his own underwear out of the way and wiggled. Lee helped him expose more skin without moving away again. They grabbed each other’s hips and sucked necks and ground together, each exhale a louder and louder cry. Phil wasn’t sure who started coming first, but it didn’t matter—he only needed to know the warmth spreading throughout his body chased by sparks of pleasure that grew and enveloped him. He’d never felt so good, or even guessed he could.
When Lee’s body relaxed beneath him, Phil felt another wave of warmth move through him. It started in his chest and left him trembling from more than exertion and lust.
A few moments later, when he realized he was a little relieved, Phil felt bad about it. As though Lee heard the thought, he spread both hands across Phil’s back and pulled him so his face rested just below Lee’s throat. He breathed in the scent of sweat and sex and Lee.
“Do you remember much about that night? What we talked about before it got dark?” Phil didn’t worry he wouldn’t understand. The way he said that night made it clear he meant their night on the hillside. They’d figured out how to talk about it without saying too much before leaving the hospital. Phil didn’t wonder whether he was alone in wanting to talk about it while at the same time wanting to put it on a high shelf and never go near it again. Even after Lee started remembering things, in chronological order even, it still scared Phil to think about that trip.
Nesting Habits Page 9