by Misha Horne
“No. Why the fuck would I do that? I’m not a narc.”
“You kind of are,” Hogie said. “By default, but still. Why do you think he called you and not anybody else?”
“Clearly because he likes me the best.”
“Right. Did he ask you to send a photo of us all holding today’s paper? Because he would have asked me that.”
“No one wants to see your ass this early in the morning.”
Hogie chucked his empty coffee cup towards the trash and missed. “Early’s lost all meaning.”
“And you’ve lost all your goddamn motor skills,” Moss told him, picking up the paper cup and stuffing it in the bucket. “Wake up.”
“Not likely.” Hogie yawned. “Let’s just fucking bail. It’s not like he’s ever gonna know.”
“You really believe that?”
“No. But, I really believe I could be sleeping another eighteen fucking hours if I wasn’t stuck running fucking laps at fucking five in the morning.”
“You forgot a fucking in there somewhere, I think,” Juno told him.
“Fuck you. This shit is hell on my beauty sleep. And my social life. And my knees. I’m done hanging out with rookies that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves.”
Kyle sighed, stretching his arms over his head, wincing as his right one thudded like his muscles wanted out. “It’s just laps.”
“It’s not just laps, dude. I’m on Mackey’s radar again. You know what that costs me? I swear if he starts making me do push ups again, I’m gonna kick your ass, Kelley.”
He laughed. “How are you gonna kick my ass if you can’t even do a push up? Suck it up. You’re supposed to be an athlete.”
Hogie stood up, looking about as happy as Kyle usually felt when someone told him to suck it up. “Yeah? Did anyone ask you? You try crouching behind the plate for ten years, then you tell me how easy a push up is, superstar.”
His lungs burned, like he’d been sucker punched, and his eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that.”
He wasn’t sure when words like that had started feeling like poison in his system instead of power, but he really didn’t like it. Really didn’t like it so much that he took a step towards him before Moss grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Yeah, you really don’t wanna do that, rookie. He might have bad knees, but he’ll knock you on your ass. He’s seriously got zero to lose.”
After another tense second, Hogie blinked, laughing. “Wow. Zero, dude? Really?”
“Just stating facts.” Moss loosened his grip and let go of his shirt. “Now, if you two can dial back the 90210, can we get the fucking laps done, please?”
* * *
By the time they made it to the track, Kyle’s wet clothes were heavy and glued to his skin, and his eyes were so flushed with water he could barely see. It wasn’t gonna be an easy ten, but he loved running in the rain.
He set the pace, fast, because he kind of felt like being a dick, but slower than normal because his muscles were still hot from yesterday, where apparently, yeah, he’d overdone it. His legs trembled the whole first lap before he settled into his rhythm. Once he found it, the ache eased away, or, at least, he stopped feeling it. Stopped feeling tired and annoyed and insulted, until all he could feel was the sting of rain on his skin, fat drops attacking his arms and neck until his whole body seemed to vibrate and go numb. The buzz helped him focus, breathe steady, lock in and eat up the track until he finally relaxed.
He watched Juno jog slow, practically walking, and Moss run scattershot, mostly backwards, because he kept stopping to talk. He knew nobody liked laps like he did, but he couldn’t help gorging himself when it came to the track.
Hogie quit after three ugly laps and staggered over to the bleachers, stretching out on his stomach and letting the rain pound down on him. For the first time, Kyle wondered how bad his knees really were, if maybe that had messed up his plans, if that was why he always seemed pissed off.
He’d always dismissed guys who complained about injuries, always thought Man the fuck up, because that’s what his dad said. But maybe it wasn’t really that simple. And maybe he didn’t actually want to be anything like his dad.
He jumped when Moss fell into step next to him, and he felt oddly nervous as he listened to the wet march of his sneakers hitting the track alongside him.
“How many you have left?” Moss asked him, turning around and then back.
“Five.”
“You gonna go this fast the whole time?”
Kyle looked over at him, waiting for the insult or the punchline, or whatever this was. “Probably.”
“Race me one.”
“Do what?”
Moss pointed ahead at the yellow line coming up fast. “There. The marker. One lap. Winner buys breakfast.”
“Winner buys breakfast?”
“I know I’m not gonna beat you. I just wanna know how close I can get. And I want a free breakfast. So, don’t go easy.”
Kyle laughed. “I don’t.”
He didn’t, not really, but when they passed the marker and Moss took off, he waited a minute, watching his stride before he picked up his own, judging how fast he’d have to run to beat him but not stomp him into the ground completely, like he knew he could if he wanted. He picked up his pace and eased past him around the quarter lap, putting on a little more when Moss sped up. He had some speed, Kyle had seen him snag a few bases, though they were more sneaky that speed based.
He let him catch up once more before dipping into the reserves that were always ready to go, and then flying by him, not slowing until he hit the marker again and then pulling up into a jog.
Hogie’s slow clap echoed across the track, and when Moss caught up to him, struggling to catch his breath, Juno was with him, laughing.
It was almost impossible not to stare at the way Juno’s clothes clung to him, the way his tshirt outlined his chest, each line and divot carved out in wet lines in the fabric. His shorts were worse, molding to his body around hard curves of thigh, highlighting every last… everything. He tore his eyes away, wiping water off his face with the back of his arm.
“Jesus,” Moss panted. “You’re a fucking dick.”
He shrugged. “You said don’t go easy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Point taken. You’re the fast one.”
Kyle laughed. “Did you think you were the fast one?”
“Used to be.”
“Well, no wonder you guys needed me so much.”
Juno laughed, a low rumble that made him ache, and Moss shook his head. “Whatever. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
He hesitated, tempted to get out of the rain, but still with energy to burn, and not much of a desire to fuck with Mackey’s instructions, even if he wasn’t around to know it. “I still have four left.”
Moss shook his head again, whipping his hair out of his eyes before he rolled them. He turned to Juno. “I don’t even have to ask you, right?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got five.”
“Fine. You suck ups finish your laps, but I’m not sitting out here to watch. Meet us at the place by the library. And don’t take all day. I’m hungry, and the rookie’s paying.”
“What place?” Kyle asked him.
“The only place with lights on this early.”
Moss jogged off the track, shouting at Hogie who was up in a shot, jogging faster toward the parking lot that he had the whole time he was on the track. And suddenly, it was just the two of them, just him and Juno, wet and breathing heavy and completely alone.
In the dark and rain, it felt like they were the only two people on the planet, which was about the greatest thing he could imagine. He loped a few steps away so he could get a full-length view, admire the way the weather made Juno’s cheeks pink up, the way his shirt stuck to his stomach.
“You wanna race me too?” Kyle teased him.
“Yeah.” Juno shielded his eyes with his hand, squinting as he grinned. “But I’d rather keep my
dignity intact. I’ll race you over there, though,” he said, pointing across the track. “To the bleachers. Underneath.”
Kyle choked out a wet laugh, like rain was trapped in his throat. “Seriously?”
“What’s the matter? Scared to lose?”
“No way.”
“You just raced a whole lap,” Juno pointed out.
Like that mattered.
“So?”
He smirked. “So, call it, then. Quit stalling”
He took a deep breath, staring across the grass to the sideline bleachers where no one ever sat, imagining being underneath with Juno, hidden from the world.
“Go.”
Kyle slipped and slid across the soft dirt that was hardly dirt anymore, mostly mud that sucked at his sneakers like quicksand. He had to steady himself again and again, clenching his stomach half a dozen times, hating that he was sure he only stayed upright because of the stupid core muscle exercises Juno had taught him. But they both slapped the bleachers in nearly the same spot, the sounds overlapping and getting absorbed by the downpour. Still, he was sure he’d been first. He was always first.
“Tie,” Juno offered.
“Fine,” he agreed, surprising himself. “Tie.”
“Get under,” Juno told him, giving him a sharp smack on the ass to make him move. And probably to make him crazy. He swallowed a groan and ducked around the back, slipping into the dark cave under the seats.
He took a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth, so wet he could hardly breathe. He’d never been under bleachers before, which seemed ridiculous now that he thought about it. It was such a high school movie thing to do, where you were supposed to drink beer and smoke pot and lose your virginity.
It wasn’t littered with cigarette butts and used condoms like he imagined, just patches of grass and ground that were slowly turning to soup. It was drier, but water still from dripped everywhere, heavy streams of it where it built up in cracks and poured down in rivers. Somehow it seemed colder out of the rain, but Juno’s eyes on him were warming his insides quickly.
“You don’t believe that was a tie at all, do you?” Juno asked him, swiping a hand through his short hair, turning himself into some kind of sex god supermodel, and not even aware of it.
“No.”
He grinned. “Cocky fucking brat.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“They’re all compliments.”
“Are we done running?”
“You ran enough yesterday.”
“What about Mackey?”
“He doesn’t care about the laps. He just wanted us to get up early for no reason.” He tilted his head, looking him up and down. “You’re barely winded.”
“I like to run.”
“You should have no stamina, you eat like garbage.”
“I ate a bullshit health bar just this morning.” He grinned and shrugged. “I just know I can, so I can. It feels good.”
“If it’s really that easy, no wonder you’re such a pain in the ass.”
“Thanks.”
Juno seemed to tower over him, somehow getting bigger in the dark and long shadows as he reached out to trail a finger down the center of Kyle’s chest. “You look awfully good wet.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That’s a compliment too.”
He couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from Juno’s lips when he talked. They were swollen and damp, shined in the cloudy, low light, and he couldn’t decide if they looked warm or cold.
Still itching with energy, and heat that crept across his back he knew was anticipation, he reached up and grabbed the metal bars crisscrossing under the seats, flexing just enough to lift his feet off the ground. For a second, all he could do was admire his own arm muscles, ropey and thick and muddy and wet, bulging and trembling like he was some kind of superhero. He did look good wet.
“Fuck, you are…” Juno’s voice faded out as he closed the gap between them, just inches away as he slid his broad hands up Kyle’s arms and back down to his chest, heat slicing through the water everywhere his fingertips landed. He didn’t need the words. He heard the admiration, and he could fill it in himself. Incredible. Amazing. Perfect. “Mine,” Juno finished hoarsely. Not the word he was expecting, but so much better.
He dropped back to the ground. “I never kissed in the rain before,” he whispered.
Juno was nice enough not to say No shit, you’re practically a virgin. Instead he ran his fingers across Kyle’s face, brushing away drops of water that seemed to come from every direction. “Me neither.” One side of his mouth curled up into a soft smirk. “You wanna kiss me, rook?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
He bent his head and brushed his mouth with soft, wet lips that were somehow warm and cold, wrapping his arms around Kyle’s waist and pulling him close. His hands slipped off the bar and found their way around Juno, under his shirt, up his back, tracing hard bumps of muscle he couldn’t even identify.
Kissing in the rain was nothing at all like kissing in the shower. Outside, but not outside, public but not public, cold hands teasing and warming and making them both laugh as they found their way under wet clothes. He gasped and hummed, heating up quickly, like some broken down machine coming to life.
He felt that separation again, like he hardly knew himself, kissing and groping under the bleachers, in the rain, like he was in some kind of dirty movie. He wasn’t sure what kind, exactly— no porn he’d ever watched had ever had all that much kissing in it. But, then, no porn he’d ever watched had ever had much of anything he and Juno did in it. Turned out all those years he’d been clearing his search history, he’d been searching for the wrong stuff.
When his hand found its way down the front of Juno’s shorts, the loose ones missing the drawstring that just invited that kind of thing, Juno laughed and pulled away.
“Never fucked in the rain before either,” Kyle told him, breathing heavy as they broke apart.
He laughed again, his eyes widening as he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you out here, Kyle.”
The disappointment felt physical, inside and out, even if it wasn’t exactly a surprise. “Why not?”
“A million and one reasons.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
“That’s not a real question.”
“Come on. We have time. No one’s around. It’ll be fast. I’ll make you come so hard.” He reached out for him again, his fingers catching on the rough cotton of his wet tshirt, stuttering over hard stomach muscles.
Juno sucked in a hard breath as he grabbed Kyle’s hand and pulled it to his mouth, sucking rain off his fingertips one by one, dragging it out for so long he might have gotten bored if he didn’t want it to go on forever. “Fast is not exactly a selling point,” he finally said.
“What is?”
Juno shook his head again, handing out no’s like candy, making it impossible to deny how much he was starting to love that word. “Not the time. Or the place.” He paused and squeezed his hand, catching is eye as he looked at him pointedly. “And we’ve got something else to deal with.”
The threat teased over him as Juno dropped his hand and gripped Kyle’s hips, teasing under his shorts just enough to stroke bare skin with his thumbs. Anticipation prickled across his shoulders again, sharp like a thousand tiny raindrops.
“We do?” It seemed impossible that his mouth could be so dry when everything else was so wet.
“You know we do.” Juno’s thumbs dipped lower into his shorts, stroking past his hipbones and getting dangerously close to the base of his cock. “That temper, rook…” he growled, warm breath brushing over him, the words clinging to his skin.
“Oh. That.” He swallowed hard, guilt and lust and relief all mixing in his belly to make that potent new emotion that he liked so much. “I wasn’t sure you saw that.”
“Really. You weren’t sure I saw you get wound up and take a step toward somebody right in front of me? H
ow many times are we going to have to talk about this?”
“He called me names.”
“I don’t think that’s an answer to what I just asked you.”
He sighed. “Probably a lot.”
“Let’s try to make it less than that, rook.”
“I didn’t do anything, though. I stopped.”
“You can’t stop without starting. And you can’t keep doing that stuff. Not even if you don’t follow through. Not even when you’re tired and bratty and don’t mean it. Not even with Hogie. Way outta line. No excuses.”
His body temperature went up and up as he blushed and choked back the Not my fault that always sat ready on his tongue. He’d known that step was trouble, even though Juno had stayed quiet, known he’d fucked up, even while the dumb superstar comment was still ringing in his ears. “He shouldn’t have said that stuff.”
“No,” Juno agreed, squeezing him gently with both hands. “It wasn’t nice. You weren’t very nice either.”
He leaned forward, resting his head against Juno’s chest, not sure why he was suddenly so relaxed. “It made me feel bad.” It just slipped out, not an excuse really, just a fact, an embarrassing, childish one, and he almost laughed at how pathetic he sounded, whining over someone calling him names. His dad would have told him to stop acting like a little girl, and seriously, he could stop thinking about his dad any time now.
Juno didn’t say that though, and he didn’t laugh, either. Just held him a little tighter, like he wasn’t being ridiculous at all. “I know it did. And I’m sorry. Sorry you got your feelings hurt, and sorry you’re gonna have to sit through breakfast thinking about what happens when we get home. But that’s the way it goes.”
His heart beat faster, his chest prickling, his whole body throbbing as he tried to figure out what this was. Real trouble, or just teasing, or something else. It felt like something else. “What happens when we get home?”
“Pretty sure you know the answer to that,” Juno said, his voice wandering over him, slow and soft, the way his fingertips wandered over his skin, wandering from front to back, cupping his bare backside under his shorts, stroking his cheeks lightly. “So, why don’t you go ahead and tell me.”