A Touch of Lightning

by Kit Fortier

  Fox huffed. "Oh god," Fox exhaled, a nervous chuckle chasing his sigh. "I'm bad at this."

  Jake nodded knowingly. "Not a lot of pickings here?"

  Fox shook his head. "One thousand or so strong, and not growing. I'm out to Dad, but not everyone else. It's none of their business, you know?"

  Jake wanted to tell him about Evan's unspoken approval, but he kept that under his hat. No need to freak the guy out. He merely said, "I hear you." Jake gave Fox a considering look. "If you're free over the weekend, I wouldn't mind the company."

  "You sure?" Something in Fox's expression looked like hope to Jake.

  "I wouldn't mind it when I take a nap," Jake whispered.

  Jake did not need a Lycan's sense of smell to feel the heat radiating off of the man in front of him. Fox's nostrils flared, his eyes widened slightly at the suggestion.

  "What--what would we do?"

  "I think we should leave that to the moment," Jake replied.

  "Right." Fox nodded.

  Jake reached out and took Fox's hand in his. He knew the tingle of alchemic reactions. There was usually a small shock-the closing of circuits always did that as energy passed through the connected conductors. The feel of his larger manipulations was something Jake had long grown accustomed to. But he was not used to the warm, all-encompassing pulse, the strange sensation that he experienced which flared to life the moment his hand met Fox's.

  For now, he ignored the questions in his head. He brushed it off to what had to be a mutual attraction. The idea of it was heady. Jake lifted Fox's hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles.

  "Thanks again for the room," Jake said, holding eye contact. He saw hesitation in Fox's eyes, his face. "You know where I am. If you don't want to join me," Jake let Fox's hand go, his fingertips trailing along the inside of Fox's rough touch. "We can--"

  "I want to," Fox interrupted. "I do. I just… I don't think I'd be the best company right now. Rain check?"

  Jake nodded. "Sure. No rush."

  Fox stared at Jake tentatively. Suddenly he shifted forward. He pressed his lips against Jake's cheek, giving him a sweet, chaste kiss.

  "I'm going to run some errands," Fox said. "I've got to visit my dad and help him with some things. Were you going to have dinner?"

  Jake nodded. "I could hit that diner again, try something else."

  "Tell them to give you the Lodge special," Fox offered. "They'll charge it to the lodge. Venison bratwurst, shoestring fries with salt and paprika, and a bottle of beer from the best brewery in Wyoming."

  Jake scrunched his eyebrows. "That sounds very… German? But not?"

  "German American," Fox said, a little pride in his inflection. "Dad was stationed there before I was born. We've got a mix of German, French, and Irish, so we're kinda European mutts."

  Jake let out a chuckle. But while he was amused, Fox was visibly distant.

  "I can stop by your place tomorrow morning," Jake offered helpfully. "I wanted to catch up on comfortable sleep for once."

  Fox raised a brow, obviously curious. "I forgot you've been on the road. You're gonna have to tell me where you've been hiking."

  Jake almost let the mask slip. But there'd be no harm in talking about the wheres, and not the whats. "We can do that."

  A pause slid between them. Jake gripped Fox's shoulder gently.

  "Tomorrow at nine alright?" Jake asked.

  Fox nodded. "Yeah. We'll get breakfast."

  "Sure," Jake said. "I'm paying."

  Fox opened his mouth to speak when Jake pressed his fingers to Fox's lips.

  "Don't argue. Just say yes. Least I could do, along with the room." Jake waited until Fox closed his eyes. Jake felt a smile beneath his fingertips, and then Fox nodded.

  "Do what you gotta, buddy," Jake said. "See you in the morning."

  Fox nodded. He turned to his door and opened it with an actual key, then he disappeared from view.

  Jake returned to his room when he was sure Fox was inside.

  3. Time Out

  *** Fox

  Fox's phone buzzed right as Jake asked about the door posts. Dad.

  Hey son, I have some candidates for you to look at for the lodge.

  Cool. Do you want me to come over?

  Sure. Dinner's on me, okay?

  Got it. Want me to bring anything?

  Just you, buddy. See you soon.

  A wave of uncertainty swept over Fox as Jake spoke. The man was giving Fox attention he wanted but hadn't really had before, and he wanted to reciprocate--but the real world was screaming at him.

  Fox wanted to take Jake up on his offer to come over, but his head was no longer in the game. The two parted ways for the day.

  Fox leaned against the door until he was sure Jake was inside his room. He waited for a few minutes after that before he snatched his keys off the wall and quietly went down the stairs.

  The day was a welcome distraction. Jake ticked off more boxes than Fox initially thought, though he barely knew the guy for a day. But a conversation with Jake that lasted more than a few hours was more than he ever had with his ex in a week.

  To top it off, he was dancing around the subject that was always in his forethoughts, despite the distraction Jake provided. The math book he'd been staring at the night before was a constant reminder that while he didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, he was certain whatever that want might be couldn't be found in a classroom. Or so he thought.

  How would he tell his dad? What would he expect him to do now? Would his dad want him to start paying rent? Get another job? Martin Foster wasn't an unreasonable man, but that didn't mean he would just look the other way. He didn't know.

  Not knowing was almost as bad as the overwhelming sense that he'd never be good enough, deserving enough, worth the hassle…

  It was too much. He wanted to get away.

  Fox popped into the metallic red Ford F-150 Martin Foster gave him for his graduation from high school. Next to his apartment, the truck was Fox's favorite thing. With it, he had some freedom, even though responsibilities kept him home.

  A car door slamming next to Fox snapped him out of his wandering thoughts. A pair of familiar smiles flashed his way. He waved at them as they went into the front office. Lucas, a young man who had worked with the Fosters since he was a junior in high school, along with Tommy, a transplant from Eureka, California-stepped behind the front desk, ready for the evening shift.

  Fox needed to hire a second hand for the day shift with Evan. When he found that, his roster would be set.

  He had to talk with his dad. It had been weeks since school let out, and he'd been avoiding the man for too long.

  Fox turned on the ignition and pulled off the property and into the main road. He found himself wending northward towards hills that broke up the horizon. Trees passed by on both sides of the road leading to Pine Haven.

  It was only about twenty minutes to get from the lodge to his father's house. Despite how well they'd been doing, Martin Foster lived simply in a single-story house he finished building when Fox graduated from high school.

  He parked in the driveway next to his father's Ford Ranger-a bit smaller and a lot older than his own truck. Fox grinned at the memory of his father musing they should switch trucks, since he was the bigger between the two of them. It led into a healthy exchange about ages and speed, followed by a short round of tussle-chase before the two went out for dinner and drinks to celebrate Fox's twenty second birthday.

  That was three years ago.

  Fox strode across the walkway that lead to the front door and hit the doorbell. When it opened, a man who looked like a bearded, thicker, burlier version of Fox appeared, reeling him in for a tight hug.

  "Hey there, champ," Martin said.

  "Hey Dad," Fox returned, speaking into his father's shoulder.

  "Fox? You alright?"

  Fox tried to nod, but it would be a lie. One thing he could never do was lie to the man who put him above eve
ryone--even his own wife.

  Martin pushed him back gently. The two exchanged looks--Fox always found comfort in the pale green of his father's eyes.

  "Let's go sit down, buddy. We've got a while 'til dinner."

  *** Jake

  Maybe he was pushing it, kissing the guy's hand like that. But something about Fox's expression brought out the need to touch him, to comfort him. For what it was worth, Jake was happy to have given Fox the standing invitation to join him while he worked.

  But they had two days left to finish the repairs on the remaining rooms in order to get the lodge up to fully operational-something Jake guessed that the place hadn't been for at least a few months.

  Jake secured his door, then alchemically sealed it against mundane intrusions. While he had been out and about on foot, he traveled largely at night, taking shelter during the day beneath bunkers he'd made out of alchemically shifted earth. When he traveled through forests, he'd move by day. The canopy would keep him from flying eyes.

  There was no sign that he'd been followed to this point, but to be safe, Jake kept up with a few precautionary moves.

  The day's work was minimal, in all fairness--but it had been a while since Jake had actually repaired circuitry. The minute aspects required a great deal of focus, even with alchemy doing the heavy lifting. His brain needed the break.

  Jake peeled out of his clothes, standing at the foot of the king-size bed in his boxer briefs. He thought about the offer to bring Fox into bed with him under the innocent yet completely obvious guise of a nap. Had the man said yes…

  A nap would not have been forthcoming, for sure. Jake wouldn't be able to keep his hands off the man.

  But with a little over two weeks left, Jake kicked himself for moving too fast. He didn't know Fox, but he wanted to get to know him. The loneliness of the road finally caught up to him, and the red-head with the brilliant green eyes and his gorgeous slack-jaw smile, the pulse between them-

  The pulse. That little factor was still niggling on his brain. Jake mulled on it for a moment as he laid down on his bed. What was that about? Why did it only happen when they touched? And it wasn't any regular touch, it had to be skin on skin. Fingertips touching, hands, even the kiss Fox pressed to his cheek carried a charge!

  It was curious. But it wasn't pressing. He'd figure it out.

  If Fox gave him the time.

  *** Fox

  Fox managed to sidestep the conversation he meant to have with his father about school. He had to be fair to himself-he hadn't figured out what he wanted yet, so school might still be on the menu. But his brain was working through some static involving the drifter at the lodge's door.

  "Dad?" Fox asked, pushing chili around in the generous bowl his father put in front of him.

  "What is it, Fox?"

  "I know it's been a while, and I don't want to stir up any bad memories," Fox began. His father's silence pushed him forward. The question on his mind had been gnawing at him for weeks. Jake's presence only made it more pertinent. "How did you know you liked someone?"

  Martin Foster raised an eyebrow. He wiped his mouth on a napkin before speaking. "You dated Adam for a year, buddy. I'd think you knew this yourself." Fox's father winced when his son stopped playing with his food, dropping his spoon against the bowl with a heavy clink.

  "Adam was… company, Dad. At least, that's what he told me I was," Fox spoke at the bowl in front of him as if his father were looking up at him through it.

  "Buddy, hey…" Martin shifted to a seat next to his son at the table. "I guess these things don't go away just because you're a little older, huh?"

  The younger Foster raised his head, looking at his elder. "What do you mean? What things?"

  "When I look at you, son, there are times when I forget just how far you've come from that ten year old boy trying to hold everything together when Mom left us," Martin said with a voice like soft gravel. "You were trying to be so brave."

  Fox nodded. His eyes burned slightly, but he stayed connected to his father's gaze.

  "She left," Martin began. "She left me, abandoned you. And it's the abandonment that keeps you from understanding that you are worthy, son. You are worthy of so much-and anyone who has you in their life would be the luckiest guy in existence. That pencil-dicked bastard who dumped you didn't know what he really gave up."

  Fox managed a chuckle after a sob.

  "I don't know what to tell you, how to tell you to get over what Mom did to us. I don't even think that's the best phrase, 'get over it'. That's grief. You're allowed to grieve. But you're also allowed to hope, Fox." Fox's father lifted a solid hand to his cheek, scraping away a tear that threatened to fall.

  Fox smiled tremulously. It would be rude to let food go untasted, he thought, so he stuffed his mouth with a heaping spoonful of chili. His father grinned at him knowingly.

  "I don't think I can answer your question, really," he began. "What happened between me and… her was more a moment of solace for me. I don't think I ever really loved her, because it seemed like she wanted to trap me with you. Now don't look at me that way, Fox," Martin warned. "You weren't born at the time, and I had some decisions to make. I could have stayed with the Army, and sent money to keep you in good shape, or I could come home and help raise you. You know which way I went. And for you son, I'd do it again."

  "As much as I wanted to make her happy to stay, I wanted nothing more than to keep you happy. Healthy. I think it's safe to say I loved you more than I… loved her. When it came to others, I had a few stints here and there. A girlfriend for a few weeks, a buddy I'd mess around with every now and then. But you wanna know my advice?"

  Fox put down his spoon. He nodded and waited.

  "Don't overthink it. Let your feelings decide for you on that, buddy. You can't let this," Martin tapped Fox's forehead, "…interfere with this." The older man put a hand over Fox's chest. Over his heart.

  Fox was fifteen all over again. Not for the question, but for the fact there was so much he wanted to explore, but he had no idea how to do it without his father telling him. He was the bird who hadn't left the nest in more ways than he could admit. Fox's appetite, thin as it was, had left him entirely.

  "Can I get a Tupperware for this?" Fox asked, indicating the hearty, spicy stew before him. His father nodded, and he fished out a glass bowl with a sealable lid.

  "Wash it and bring it back when you're done," his father said with a patient smile. Fox cringed inward slightly, remembering he had at least sixteen such glassware pieces in his apartment he'd yet to return.

  "I will, dad. I gotta bring you the other ones, too." Fox rifled through his father's kitchen drawers for a plastic bag for him to carry the food in. On his thoughts of the apartment over the lodge, he thought of the electricity. "Oh hey, remember the hack job that electrician we brought in to work on our building? I hired a guy. He was an electrician in the Air Force, and he definitely knew what he was talking about. I didn't think you'd mind that I paid him in trade. He'll be rooming in the executive suite for a few weeks."

  "Sounds like a good find. Where's he from?"

  "He--" Fox stopped dead in his sentence. "He mentioned San Diego and Mountain Home."

  "Those are two really different cities, champ."

  "I know. I can find out."

  The elder Foster gave the younger Foster a knowing look. "You do that, buddy."

  4. Fox in the Woods

  *** Fox

  It would be another day and a half before Fox ran out of errands and excuses. The guest at the other end of the building bore a hole in his brain through which all his thoughts and focus leaked out.

  For his part, Jake never really left his room. Fox saw food deliveries make their way to his door-a typical scenario that played out a lot at the hotel. He couldn't help but watch and see if Jake would appear at the door. If he would step out into the sun. Fox's imagination easily ran away with him. The thick, vascular forearms densely dusted with soft, black hair. The stubbly cheek
s and chin that framed Jake's rugged face. It was his eyes that stole the show, though.

  Jake's eyes had been an impossibly pale blue, almost silver. There was a kind of magic about them that reeled Fox in the moment he caught sight of them in the restored lights those couple nights ago.

  Fox swept the second story walkway. As he neared Jake's door, it swung open.

  The man holding it open was a goddamned wet dream waiting to happen.

  Jake stood there, taking a casual bite of a sandwich. He had a light sheen of sweat on him, exertion reddened his cheeks. He wore no shirt, and his sweatpants were slung low over his hips.

  Fox's mouth went dry. The laws of gravity didn't seem to apply to Jake's sweatpants. They both clung to him, revealing the thickness of his legs, the very defined outline of what was most likely the most appetizing member Jake might ever see. It clicked. Underwear, apparently, wasn't in the picture.

  Fox canted his hips back slightly in a vain attempt to alleviate the tightness that spread in the front of his workpants.

  "Hey, Fox," Jake said as he swallowed a mouthful.

  "Afternoon, Jake," Fox rasped. "Working out?"

  Jake smiled. "Yeah. All stuff I can do in my room. The people downstairs might complain about me pounding the floor."

  "Pounding…?"

  "Jogging in place," Jake said. "Lunges. Burpees. Fun stuff."

  Fox's eyes cross involuntarily. "It sounds… Fun," he said, kicking himself for sounding and feeling like a horny schoolboy.

  Jake took another bite of the sandwich he held. A small handful of crumbs tripped off of Jake's chin and over his chest. Some fell to the floor. Some got caught in the thick salt-and-pepper pelt that Fox was most definitely not staring at.

  "Been busy, buddy? You haven't stopped by yet." Jake polished off the rest of the sandwich. More crumbs teased Fox by being closer to Jake than he was in that moment.

  "I had things," Fox started. A strange urge to clean off the crumbs from Jake's chest bubbled to the brim of his self-control. "I wanted to get everything done so I'd be free and clear."