by Jaime Reese
“Uh-huh. And guess what I’m doing?”
A stream of images quickly followed of Vann cupping his balls, tugging on them, and moaning as he stroked himself. A groan escaped Drayton. He shifted in the chair and winced. Damn. It didn’t take much to spark his imagination.
“Guess?” Vann said, his voice holding a hint of tease in his tone.
“Are you sliding your hand up and down your hard dick?” Drayton asked. He opened his eyes and licked his lips, leaning his head back against the leather headrest.
“No. I’m getting ready to go back to sleep. Talk to you later.”
Drayton couldn’t control the bubble of laughter that rose in his throat when the line went dead, ending the call. Fucking tease. He was glad the playful side of Vann hadn’t disappeared. And it seemed he still wasn’t a morning person after all this time.
A smile lingered on his lips as he remembered all those mornings he’d had to wake Vann from the dead of sleep to get him out of bed before his parents woke.
He glanced over his shoulder out the window. He spotted the two guys still sitting together at the coffee shop table, smiling at each other. He couldn’t help the growing grin on his face. That’s how it all starts.
Drayton might not be good at reading people, but he knew some relationships ebbed and flowed with good times and bad. His relationship with Vann had always flowed smoothly and, because they were together, always emerged much stronger from whatever life threw their way.
Their formula had been inked and etched. He and Vann, two constants together, equating to infinity. Drayton wanted the life together they had been denied. And he’d do everything in his power to make sure that would finally happen.
Hours later, Drayton reached out, wrapping his fingers around Vann’s hand, pulling him off the back porch bench. “C’mon. I’ve been sitting in my office all day. Let’s go for a walk until curfew.”
Vann eagerly stood, following closely behind. “Does our perimeter walk include a blow job?”
Drayton threw his head back and let out a huge laugh. He wouldn’t deny he hadn’t stopped thinking about that night. “Ryan and Ben are home. I don’t feel like sharing you.”
“Damn, I forgot about them. Ben’s probably doing his stare thing.” Vann quickly spun around and stared up at the second floor of the house. “Busted.”
Drayton stopped and turned, seeing the sway of the sheer material of the second-floor hallway curtain. He pulled Vann along, resuming their stroll around the halfway house lot. “Did you talk to the counselor?”
Vann nodded. He kicked the tip of his boot into the dirt as they walked. “She gave me some tips on how to manage things if something like that happens again. Hopefully, it won’t.”
“It’s a lot to take in. You’re still adjusting.”
He nodded again.
“You can talk to me, you know?”
“I know. It’s just…” Vann looked off to the side as if gathering his thoughts.
“You don’t have to guard your words with me.”
Vann stopped and turned to face him. “How can you read me so well but you can’t read other people?”
Drayton shrugged. He had asked himself that same question a million times since they’d met and could only come to one conclusion. “You’re the only one I let in and I know that works both ways.”
“Why me?” Vann chewed his lip. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“Because you’re you. And I wouldn’t be me without you.”
“I think you’re just saying all kinds of special words to get another blow job.”
Drayton chuckled and pulled Vann into a hug, holding him close, enjoying the quiet moment. He ran his hand up and down Vann’s back, sighing when Vann pressed a kiss to his neck. Vann might claim to not be a romantic, but Drayton always felt loved and protected, as if his well-being was the most critical thing in the world. “Why were you by the lake that day?”
Vann pulled away and cocked his head.
“The day we met.” Drayton slid his hands down Vann’s back and cupped his ass, wanting to keep him close. “I never asked you how you knew those guys were there with me.”
“I saw them following you. I had to make sure you were okay.”
A slow smile spread across his face. If Vann had followed the guys, then that meant he had been watching him. “My guardian angel.”
“Hardly. More like the fucked-up kid who didn’t want anyone messing with you.” Vann grabbed Drayton by the tie and pulled him an inch away from his face. “I wanted to be the only guy messing with you.”
Drayton leaned in for a quick but tender teasing kiss.
They continued their walk as Vann talked about his day at the diner. Joy burst from every pore as he spoke about working with the owners and interacting with the customers. He beamed with enthusiasm, moving his arms around as he retold the details of his day.
An overwhelming amount of happiness ballooned in Drayton’s chest. This was exactly what Vann had wanted growing up—to interact with people without judgement. He’d never asked for much, only wanting people to speak to him and laugh with him…not at him. He wanted to earn people’s respect and always appreciated the tiniest of things, never taking anything for granted.
Yet, growing up, he had been judged in his father’s image. And everyone assumed the “bad boy” with the ripped, worn shirts and holed jeans had been the one who’d instigated another rumble and deserved each resulting bruise or cut lip he’d received.
No one knew the truth.
And no one had cared enough to ask.
Vann had always been on his own, fighting an uphill battle, struggling at every step.
But now, Drayton was going to make sure Vann had a fighting chance. He’d stand by his side, right along with him until he reached the top of that hill. “I’ve got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“If you had all the money in the world available, what would you buy?”
Vann chuckled. “What I want isn’t for sale.” He quickly sobered and fidgeted with the buttons on Drayton’s shirt. “I just want you. I can deal with anything else.”
Drayton sighed. How did this man always know exactly what to say and when to say it? And sometimes, it was the tiniest of things he’d say or do at precisely the right time that always seemed to settle Drayton’s nerves or give him a jolt of enough strength and determination to push through anything.
“What are you thinking?” Vann asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
Drayton wrapped his arms around Vann’s waist. “I’m thinking about how amazing you are.”
A glimmer of playfulness sparked in his amber eyes. “Keep talking like that and I’m going to make sure Ben gets one hell of a show to pique his curiosity.”
“You’re amazing, kind-hearted, sexy, strong, and smart—”
Vann slammed his mouth against Drayton, nearly knocking him on his ass. Drayton slid his hands inside the back of Vann’s jeans, groaning when his palms met with two lean globes of muscled cheeks. Strong fingers fisted in his hair, yanking his head back.
“Don’t ever cut your hair short,” Vann growled in his ear. “You’re a hell of a lot stronger so I need the leverage.”
A moan rose in his throat as Vann slid his teeth along the column of his neck. He was going to have a mark in the morning.
After having missed so much for so long, he welcomed every kiss, bite, and grope he could get.
Vann walked out of his room, figuring he could watch some television downstairs until dinnertime. Now that Frankie had been out of the house for a few days, it almost seemed as if Ryan and Ben were finally relaxing a little. Especially Ryan. Usually wound as tight as a guitar string with any sort of interaction, he now hung out on the couch with Ben and had even made an effort to learn a little ASL.
He passed Ben’s room and spotted him kneeling by the nightstand, petting something on the tabletop. Something…fuzzy. Did he steal a neighborhood cat or something? Maybe
a dead cat, ’cause that stack of fur or whatever the hell it was looked worn.
Ben was the youngest in the house, but he seemed far younger than his years. There was a certain innocence in his eyes and a kindness Vann didn’t often see in others. Frankie had taken out much of his anger on Ben, constantly yelling at him and pointing in his face. Ben might not have been able to hear each yell, but the way his shoulders hunched and how he’d fold into himself was an obvious sign he’d undoubtedly felt the anger behind each jab in the air.
Vann pushed open the door and waved his hand in a wide circle, hoping to catch Ben’s attention. Out of respect, he wouldn’t invade his space, knowing all too well how much he hated that himself.
Ben turned toward him and straightened, standing in front of the nightstand to block Vann’s view.
“What do you have there?” Vann signed.
“Nothing.” Ben ducked his head then peeked up through his lashes.
Vann crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.
Ben’s shoulders slumped. He sighed then began to move his hands quickly—too quickly.
“Slow down a little, please. I can’t keep up. A bunny?” Vann focused on Ben’s hands, stopping him and only signing for him to repeat something again when he lost the string of the exchange.
Ben’s nickname growing up was Benny. So his older sister gave him a stuffed rabbit because it reminded her of how he’d hop around when he got excited. It was the only thing he had from his sister before they’d been split up in foster care when they were kids. Ben and his really odd-looking stuffed rabbit toy had taken quite a beating over the years.
Ben motioned for Vann to enter his room. He pointed to the ripped ear and missing fuzzy tail. Ripped ear courtesy of asshole Frankie on Ben’s first night in the house one month before. Apparently, he kept it on the nightstand to avoid having the poor thing get any worse.
“It needs a burial,” Vann signed.
Ben’s eyes rounded and he jerked his head from side to side.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. He just needs a little patching up.”
Ben shrugged. He reached out and absently petted the still-connected good ear on the rabbit.
“Bring that thing downstairs. I think we need to take it to the emergency room.”
Ben frowned and pursed his lips. “You’re nuts.”
Vann laughed. “Maybe. A little. C’mon. Bring that thing.”
Vann trotted down the stairs and walked into the kitchen, not waiting for Ben to follow. “Hey, Matt. Do you have a sewing kit?”
Matt looked over his shoulder from his spot in front of the stove. “Yeah, I think so.” He pointed to the small chest in the far corner of the eating area. “Check in the drawers there. We should have a first-aid kit and the basics. I believe there’s a sewing kit in the blue bag.”
Vann rummaged through the drawers, finding a checklist of items—batteries, flashlights, candles, matches. He opened the next drawer and found the first-aid kit and extra packages of supplies. Finally, behind the white case, he spotted a small blue bag with a sewing kit inside. It contained only a travel-size amount of different color threads, but it would work just fine for a little patchwork.
“What do you need that for?”
“Emergency surgery.”
“Um…”
“On a very fucked-up stuffed animal. I don’t think I can salvage it, but I want to try.”
Matt laughed as he stirred the sauce. “Are you talking about Benny’s bunny?”
Vann’s focus snapped up to Matt. “You know about that thing?”
“He won’t let any of us near it after Frankie grabbed it and tore it up. He’s worried it’s going to finish falling apart.”
“Yeah, I noticed he…hesitated. He didn’t want me to get close to it. I’m not sure if he actually brought it downstairs to let me mess with it.”
“He likes you,” Julian said, strolling into the kitchen. “It’s the only way I can explain why Ben’s sitting in the living room with a pillow on the coffee table and a stuffed animal beaten to shit lying on top of it. He looks like he’s in mourning and he and Ryan are at that thing’s wake.”
Vann lowered his brow and stood, peeking into the living room. A smile slipped his lips when Ryan leaned over the bunny for a closer inspection of the carcass and Ben pushed him away. Would Ben actually let him tinker with his prized possession?
There was only one way to find out.
“Do you guys have an old cushion or pillow thing from the sofa I can gut? I’m going to need some of that filler stuff.”
Matt turned off the burner and set the pot aside. He wiped his hands and darted out of the kitchen.
“What did I say?”
Julian chuckled. “He’s excited. He’s not going to miss Ben’s breakthrough.”
They joined Ben and Ryan in the living room just as Matt pulled out two small cushions from the hallway closet.
Vann knelt by the coffee table and took a closer look at the stuffed animal. He chewed the inside of his lip, quickly thinking of how to fix each damaged part of the toy. He looked over to Ben. His eyebrows were arched upward and his arms tightly crossed around his midsection. “Do you still have the ear?”
Ben quickly nodded and ran upstairs.
“Do you think you can actually fix that thing?” Ryan asked.
“It’s pretty fucked up. I can get the ear back on, close up the hole where the tail was—”
“But that big hole in the stomach. It’s too big. Right?” Ryan asked.
Vann inspected the stuffed animal more closely. He didn’t have anything of his mom’s as a keepsake, but knew he’d do anything to keep one if he could. “Do you have anything gray? Something thicker than a T-shirt. Like a…sweatshirt or something? One I can rip up to make a patch?”
“Yeah, sure.” Ryan trotted up the stairs just as Ben returned to the living room.
“Matt, do you have any big black buttons? Something close to the eye on this thing so we can use it for the missing one?”
Julian chuckled when Matt raced upstairs. “It’s nice to have some positive excitement in this house again.”
“Frankie was an asshole,” Ryan said, returning to the living room. “You can totally say it, Julian. Look how peaceful it is now without him here. He was a miserable son of a bitch who enjoyed pissing us all off.”
“I don’t have to say it. You just did that for me.” A rare smile slipped Julian’s lips before he quickly disguised it again.
“Will this work?” Ryan asked, handing Vann a pair of sweatpants. “Use the bottom part so I can still salvage them as shorts.”
Vann cut and shaped pieces of fabric for the missing parts of the bunny. He finally set out each of the items he needed—fabric pieces from Ryan’s pants, stuffing from Matt’s small pillow, buttons for the eye and another for the nose from one of Julian’s old shirts, and thread. The bunny was going to be covered in odd colors and funky bright threads.
A quilted stuffed animal. He was going to start a trend.
Ben sat on the couch, rocking back and forth as Vann stitched up another patch. “Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
Vann remained knelt on the floor, bent over the bunny as he sewed the various pieces together. His heart beat a little harder than expected, and he knew exactly why. “Don’t stand so close to me, please.” He glanced over his shoulder, delivering a pointed glare at his housemate. He was adjusting to being around people again, but he still couldn’t shake the need for guarded distance around anyone who was a potential threat.
“Whoa, dude. Chill.”
Vann closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, hoping to settle his racing heartbeat. “Sorry, man.”
“Ry, you did two and a half years. Shaw just served ten. Give him a little space.” Julian pointed to the side chair and Ryan obediently took a seat.
Ben darted up from the couch and paced the room, chewing on his thumbnail.
Vann steeled himself and focus
ed on each poke of the needle and pull of the thread. The shortness of breath eased and his heartbeat returned to a regular rhythm. He finally tied off the last piece of thread and inspected his work. He grinned, knowing the bunny looked like a bad retro zombie nightmare, but at least it wasn’t a carcass of fuzzy guts. He rose from his kneeling position and held the bunny out to Ben.
Ben stilled, slowly uncrossing his arms from his midsection. He glanced up at Vann, reached out then hesitated for a moment before snatching the bunny from his hands and pressing it to his chest in a tight hug. In that moment, Vann could easily imagine a young version of Ben, hugging the bunny when he’d first received it. The innocence of the gesture twisted his gut with a wave of emotions. He wondered where along the way he had lost that innocence himself. Even worse, he wondered if he’d ever had it growing up, always on guard and on the defensive.
He set his memory aside and focused on the joy beaming from Ben. He’d done that. He’d made Ben so happy he delivered the widest, toothiest grin Vann had ever seen, triggering a chuckle.
“It’s ugly,” Vann signed.
Ben vehemently shook his head. He tucked the bunny under his chin and signed, “It’s beautiful. And it’s got something from each of you. Thank you.”
Ryan stood and reached for the bunny, laughing when Ben shooed his hand away.
Vann glanced around as everyone laughed at Ben’s obsessive attachment. He smiled, tousling Ben’s hair and teasing him along with the others. But he wouldn’t deny how much it meant to have played a part in the happiness shining in Ben’s eyes.
A surge of gratitude clenched Vann’s chest and tightened his throat. He was settling into this new life, easing his way into work, living under the same roof with others, and actually making friends. For the first time in his life, things seemed to go his way.
He swallowed heavily, almost readying himself, hoping that didn’t mean life was going to kick him in the balls.
Vann stopped and set the mop aside when Bill called him over. “Yeah?”