by Kit Fortier
Jake took the wheel after Casper. He'd glare every time he saw hovering birds, but Fox figured that there wasn't much they could do in this instance. As they approached an underpass, Jake slowed down. Soon, they were directly beneath, shielded from view.
"What are you doing?" Fox asked leaning his head out the passenger window.
"I was thinking about camouflage," Jake said. Fox watched him grab some dirt off the ground. The big man spilled it unceremoniously onto the hood of his metallic cherry red truck.
"Hey!" Fox cried.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll have it detailed," Jake smirked.
It took a few minutes before the entire truck looked like it had been through a sandstorm. Some of the dirt formed in piles here and there.
Fox crossed his arms. He grumbled to himself about guys and can't have anything nice and normal boyfriends. Jake busied himself with the finishing touch.
Fox watched the dirt flatten out. It caked onto the truck. The end result amazed him-Jake practically turned the truck a different color. Sure, it looked like shit, but it wasn't red anymore at all. More like the mottled, muddy brown of an off-roading fanatic.
Fox waited until Jake hopped back in the truck. He grabbed Jake's collar and tugged him near. He gave his man a rough kiss before saying, "You better not scratch the paint."
Jake laughed. "Foxy, I'll paint it any color you want. I also changed the license plates."
The engine roared to life, and they were on their way to Malta.
*** Jake
Jake's research in the grand array he had just completed led him to a spot a few miles south. It wasn't far from the little town they were almost at.
Malta wasn't the target, the last stop. It would be a spot along Side Road 81, fifteen minutes south of Malta.
The latent talents they unlocked at Devils Tower would be formidable. But with the array, the solar eclipse stood to lock everything into place. Both he and Fox could take the fight to any witch or wizard who dared to try to hunt them down.
He wouldn't have that happen. Not again.
Khaled and his family were innocent bystanders in the way of a monster.
Sully let himself be torn apart in a last stand, taking the wizard hunting them with him.
This wizard and witch pair... The witch that the eagle-man was likely referring to would not get anywhere near him or Fox. Jake would carve their hearts out with a jagged rock before they'd so much as breathed in Fox's presence.
Jake looked over at Fox. The man had rolled up that much used blanket and tucked it under his head as a pillow while he sat upright. Jake took in his fresh-shaven jaw, the strength of his neck. the way his mouth parted slightly as he slept, a thin film dripping from the corner of his lips and onto his shirt.
That made Jake chuckle to himself. Which, in turn, woke up the sleeping Fox.
"Wha-what?" Fox's eyes, while wide open, carried the remnants of sleep. Jake casually lifted a finger to his own mouth, flicking it at the seam on the same side Fox had drooled. Fox's forehead crinkled in confusion, then he caught on.
"Damnit," he grumbled, trying to wipe the spit off his shirt.
"You're a sleep-drooler," Jake grinned.
Fox shot him a bit of a withering look.
"Myyyy baby's a droooo-ler," Jake sang softly, cajoling his dark-red-headed lover.
Fox crossed his arms and looked out the window. "Shut up, teddy bear," he said, though Jake heard the smile in his voice.
A quick glance at Jake's profile, and a flash of a reflection in the window, showed him that Fox was hardly upset. He reached across the console and tickled at Fox's forearms, flapping his hand and offering it. Fox looked at it, looked at Jake, huffed, and eventually took it.
"You're lucky I love you, jerk."
Jake snickered. He pulled Fox's hand to his mouth and kissed it. He rested their hands between them on the captain's chair armrest between them.
A couple of hours passed in silence. Jake had no taste for any of the music on the radio, and Fox looked lost in thought. Jake ruminated on their destination-the place where Fox might be able to stretch his legs with his newfound ability.
As much as he wanted to tell his man, Jake kept his secret close and unspoken.
Until they sped past a road sign that Fox did not miss.
"Jake," he began, "are we going to Jackson Lake?"
Jake struggled to keep from smiling. But he couldn't help it.
"Oh my god, really?"
*** Fox
Fox's eyes widened. Jackson Lake, as in the lake in the middle of Grand Teton? He had wanted to visit that for years. But the thought occurred to him that there were at least two large lakes between here and there.
"You know, we could just hit up Ocean lake, or the Boysen Reservoir. Friends of mine in high school would spend spring breaks and summers out there."
"True, except if those are places your old friends visit, we might run the risk of them doing just that while we're there," Jake said. "Not to mention, we'd be in the middle of a Reservation. I don't want to mess with any tribe's mojo any more than we did back at the Tower."
Fox nodded. Within moments, though, his brows pushed together once again.
"How do you know what's between here and there?"
Jake laughed. "Remember my tablet, Fox? I wasn't wandering around with a paper map and a needle on a cork in a cup full of water. I may have been hiking for the past seven years, but I'm not a caveman."
That got a rise out of the red-head. "Smartass."
"I'm your smartass and you know it."
Fox stuck his tongue out at Jake. Jake leered at him and stuck his tongue back, flicking it lewdly in the air. That went straight to Fox's dick.
"Great. Now I'm mad and I'm horny," Fox said.
Jake's bassy rumble filled the cab. That wasn't helping.
"I could help a guy out, you know," Jake said with a lascivious grin in his voice. He slipped his hand out of Fox's hand and set it on the inside of Fox's thigh, rubbing deep, up and down. Fox squirmed.
"It'd be the definition of distracted driving, but I'm pretty good at multitasking."
Fox's face heated, and he was pretty sure all the tell-tale signs of his arousal were written all over his face. He forced a laugh, and took Jake's hand with both of his, holding it fast.
"Don't make me go all daddy on you," Fox groaned as he tried to even out his breathing. Then he realized what he said. He looked over at Jake, and he swore he could hear the dirty thoughts running through Jake's head.
"I didn't say that at you," Fox got defensive, but he laughed all the same.
"Yeah, but you said it," Jake growled.
Fox snickered. "We'll play when we get there, papa bear. I promise."
Jake stared forward, his eyes on the road. But Fox spotted a grin on Jake's lips.
True to Jake's word, Fox saw more signs. They indicated to motorists that they were now entering the Wind River Reservation. It'd be some time yet before they made it to the park, and noon was upon them.
"Think we could stop somewhere to eat? We could stock up on food for Jackson Lake."
Jake nodded. They pulled off into Pavillion and within minutes, found a sit-down diner.
As the pulled up, Fox's stomach growled loudly.
"Aw, shit, Fox. You should have said something earlier," Jake said, giving Fox a slight look of concern.
"We're here, that's what counts," Fox said, kissing Jake's hand.
"Okay. Get whatever you want, baby. We've got some time."
Jake leaned across the console, and Fox met him, sharing a short but sweet kiss. They hopped out of the truck and walked into the restaurant.
Fox and Jake found a booth. A couple of burly guys were sitting at the bar nearby, behind Jake, looking over their shoulder at Fox.
He thought nothing of it at first. But when he searched for the server, one of the guys winked at him and kissed the air at him, a little leer on his face. Fox wondered how he knew, why he was flirting. He
looked outside. The realization hit him-the guy saw Fox and Jake kiss. He shuddered. They might leave soon. He hoped.
The server appeared, poured both of them cups of coffee, and took their orders. Jake went first. After Fox's order, the server left, and Jake watched the server leave, turning back to Fox.
"Have you given thought to how to trigger… it?" Jake asked. Fox knew the "it" was his painfully-gained aptitude.
"I could visualize it. But you said that there has to be an understanding of what something is made of before I can actually do it, right?" Fox pondered. "The knife you made me--you knew what you were doing when you made it, right? Collecting and sorting out the metals, superheating them, folding them over and over again to get the impurities out…"
Jake nodded. "Yep," he said. "Like forging a sword."
"I saw a show about that once," Fox replied. "It highlighted the forging processes of metal workers. They went from the Greeks and bronze through the Japanese with their samurai swords," Fox said. "It was pretty cool. Very informative." He made some connections, comparing the swords in the show to the knife at the reservoir. "The processes in the show seemed a lot like how you did it. The composition hit me as the knife came into reality. You were pulling iron from the ground, and it went into the knife."
"Iron and carbon," Jake agreed.
"And silver, later," Fox added. The other man nodded.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to be making-how electricity and I are supposed to… connect." Fox fiddled with the salt and pepper shakers. "I guess we'll see soon enough."
Jake smiled. "I know you'll get there, baby. I'll help you."
Fox grinned. The server came with the food, and the two ate in silence.
Fox inhaled his meal, while Jake was finishing the tail end of his.
"I'm gonna use the restroom," Fox said. "We've got a few hours to go, right?"
Jake nodded with a mouthful of food.
Fox wrinkled his nose at the antiseptic smell in the men's room. At least it was clean, he thought. Fox stood over a urinal and let himself out to relieve himself.
Composition of lightning. What was it again? Positives and negatives, electrons jumping from one particle to the next… Negative charges. The negative charges were separated from the positive ones. Then, a current formed between them that would reunite the two. Negative flowed to positive in a sudden flash of energy and light.
Without warning, there were stars. A thudding pain between Fox's eyes. He blinked away the bursts of dull light. Someone shoved him into a stall, face forward, his pants being roughly pulled down lower. He tried to turn, but the bowl in the stall and the closed quarters had him at a disadvantage. Each attempt to turn on his attacker was met with his face and forehead getting shoved into the wall.
"You fucking faggots kiss so sweet," a growl that was not Jake's ground through Fox's ear. "I'm gonna use that sweet ass of yours. Think your boyfriend would mind?" A rough hand choked him with his own collar and the sound of a belt being undone sent a spike of fear up and down Fox's spine.
Jake. Fox thought of Jake. He hoped he'd come in, but Jake didn't know. He couldn't know. Fox couldn't call out--the man used his shirt like a choke collar. The bathroom door was closed behind them, and the greasy fucker was frustrated with his own pants.
Fox pulled at his collar while the man fumbled frantically. It would only be a matter of time before he would be ready to do what he set out to do. With desperate force, Fox ripped his collar, breaking the choke hold. He twisted one way, hard and fast, hoping to connect with flesh of any kind. Out of sheer dumb luck, his elbow, aimed high, jammed hard into the brute's ear. Without a moment's pause, he twisted the other way, jamming his other elbow into the guy's solar plexus. The greasy man fumbled back, holding his ear and his chest. His pants shifted around his thighs almost comically while he buckled over.
Fox quickly pulled his pants up, ignoring the buttons and belt buckle. He grabbed the lumbering oaf by the front of his shirt and banged him hard against the bathroom door.
Fox had no words. His anger surged through him. The lights of the bathroom flickered hard.
He reared back, sending a punch forward into his assailant's head with righteous anger.
"You." Bam.
"Don't." Bam.
"Get." Bam.
"To." Bam
"Fuck." Bam.
"Me!"
Fox's last punch was charged. In the literal sense. A transfer of kinetic and electric energy leapt from his knuckles into the brute's greasy face. Time seemed to slow, and Fox's vision zoomed in where the connection was made. Energy flowed from him, actual, kinetic, ozone-charged energy. It jumped--thousands, millions of particles jumped, cascading from Fox's hand to the bigger man's head.
An explosion of light flared between them when Fox connected. There was an earth-rattling boom.
The man's body ripped the door off its hinges as he flew back on it like an amateur surfer falling onto his board. The diner's guests erupted with gasps of surprise. Fox stumbled out and stood over the coughing, dry-heaving asshole. The man held a shaky hand over an eye--blood smeared about and dripping out from an unseen wound underneath the hand.
Fox spat on the guy. "You motherfucker." His felled assailant could only cough and groan in reply. Burn marks scorched the door and made charred holes in the brute's shirt. As Fox approached, the man tried to scramble away, only to hitch a little further up on the dented, broken down door he arrived on.
Jake was at Fox's side in an instant.
"Fox? Hey, look at me," Jake said, taking Fox's face in his hands. There was blood running from his scalp down next to his nose and off his chin.
Jake was panicked. Scared. Fox was breathing heavy, and the look in his eyes spoke of blind rage that faded to distant shock.
Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. It looked like it would pay for their meal and then some, but it didn't register with or faze Fox.
To Fox, he was a thousand miles away.
Jake led him away by the hand. The two passed by the brute's lunchmate. The man stared at his partner, slack-jawed. His unfinished hamburger fell out of his hand and made a wet plop on the floor.
Jake herded Fox into the truck and within moments, they peeled out and were back on the road. Jake drove for a few minutes before he pulled over, darting to the front of the truck. Fox stared, his mind in a haze. Jake trotted to the back of the truck, disappearing from view. He popped into the cab and took off once more after tossing Fox's license plates in the back.
"Baby talk to me," Jake said.
*** Jake
Jake's left leg hopped up and down as he drove, anxious and hyper-aware. Fox was quiet. Too quiet. Jake could only guess it had something to do with the fucker in the bathroom. He kicked himself for not going with Fox.
But how was he to know? How were either of them to know?
He put two and two together easily. The greasy bastard attacked Fox, that much was true. The silver dollar sized, angry, red mark that marred Fox's golden skin at his forehead up to his scalp was proof enough.
They soon approached a rest stop. Jake pulled over, sighing with relief when he saw it was empty. Jake pulled over and jumped out.
Jake took notice of the rest stop sign. He held out his hand and folded it, and the sign itself folded in half. He then pointed at the off-ramp with an open hand. At the silent command of his will, the earth beneath the asphalt depressed an arm's length into the ground. The small stretch of road disappeared into the earth. Jake tapped his alchemy and shifted dirt over the sunken asphalt, erasing it from view. No motorist could interrupt them now.
Jake opened Fox's door. His breath halted suddenly upon the sight of his man. He was gone, lost inside himself. It tore Jake's heart a little more.
"Fox, hey--" Jake gently pulled Fox from the truck. He saw Fox's belt was undone, his fly open. Jake knelt down, taking Fox's buttons and closing them up. He then buckled his belt and cinched it enough to close the loop
without being tight. His hands roamed up Fox's body, taking him in diagnostically, clinically. He needed to be certain sure his man wasn't injured elsewhere. When his hands got to Fox's torn collar, Jake stifled a gasp. What did that asshole do to his Fox?
This was a scenario Jake didn't think of. The supernatural drew all their attention, but this very world didn't even register. But what were they supposed to do? Hide from everything? If that was the case, Jake would take Fox away and do just that, when all was said and done.
Jake kicked himself. It was useless thinking. All that mattered was Fox.
"Baby look at me, please?" Jake begged, holding Fox's face in his hands.
Fox's unfocused gaze terrified Jake.
"Fox, hey, come back to me, okay? You come back right now," Jake pleaded, scared at just how lost Fox was in his own head. He bit back any sounds of relief when Fox's bright green eyes showed a little luster and focused on his.
"Jake," Fox breathed.
"I'm right here, Fox. I'm right here."
Fox's face slid from blank and unresponsive to a sad and scared boy. Jake's heart broke completely when tears spilled from Fox's eyes.
"Scared," Fox said. "I'm… I was--" he never finished. Jake cut him off when he pulled him in and held him close.
Jake shushed gently into Fox's ear, stroking his hair with one hand and holding him close with the other. Fox wasn't openly sobbing, but he trembled and hiccupped. Dampness spread across Jake's shoulder.
"Did he… Did he hurt you?" Jake asked, the unspoken part of the sentence hung thick in the air.
It took a few moments, but Fox shook his head.
Relief flooded through Jake. That wasn't taken from him. But still, it was evident Fox's sense of safety had been violated, brought down by a beast whose only desire was to take, take, take.
The shuddering stopped. The rise and fall of Fox's breathing evened out. Fox pulled away slowly, leaving a gentle kiss against Jake's cheek. When he stepped back, he appeared composed and calm.
"Let's get back on the road, okay, baby?" Fox said.
"You got it," Jake said. He had Fox back--somewhat withdrawn, a little worse for the wear, but present. Jake turned to the alchemically hidden road and raised it. He cleared the dirt off it, and then unfolded the metal sign. It was as if nothing had ever happened.