by Willa Okati
Jaden lifted his coffee mug to hide his mouth. “Nothing's wrong.” He spoke into the fog, his words tasting bitter as the black java on his tongue. “Nothing's wrong at all."
Chapter Three
"Look who's back.” Jaden's paid companion tossed a neon-blue game controller down on the motel bed, rumpled into a tangle of blankets and pillows as if he'd spent half the day wallowing around in its dubious comfort. “Pretty long breakfast. Must have been about seventeen courses with a break in the middle to visit the Queen or something, if you're just now getting back at ten o'clock in the evening."
"I had things to do."
Things like driving around in circles, looping the city at least three times and weaving a path through side streets, then heading out on empty rural highways that went on for miles. Keeping the radio on as loud as he could, drowning out his thoughts and covering his yells of frustration—at himself, at Andy, at Jonas, at the impossible tangle of his life and for the sake of everything he'd lost along the way.
Pulling into a diner two townships away, sunglasses on his nose and a hat pulled down over his forehead. He'd sat staring at his glass of tea until the ice melted, and not touched his slice of stale pie with its sickly red filling, then left when the waitress offered him his check for the fifth time along with a pointed look.
Driving some more, not knowing where he was headed.
Not that he'd tell Hooker about where he'd gone, much less why.
Jaden laid his copy of the room key on their dresser among the other detritus that always seemed to appear on such things, no matter how short a time you had been there. A handful of loose change, a wristwatch, candy bar wrappers, crumpled receipts. An overflowing ashtray with one tiny wisp of smoke drifting up from a nearly-dead ember. “I didn't know you smoked."
Hooker shrugged. “Not always. They're a way to pass the time.” He leaned back, legs crossed, weight resting on his wrists. The cocky grin on his face made Jaden want to turn away. “Oh, what, after a visit to Our Gang I'm not good enough to look at?"
"Don't be ridiculous.” Jaden looked about for his suitcase. Not by the door where he'd expected to find all his luggage still in place. “Did you move my things?"
"I figured we, you, I, all of the above, weren't leaving anytime soon. Why waste a dramatic gesture? Besides, they kept getting in the way whenever I had to answer the door. No room service in this place, so I called for pizza. And Thai. How weird is it that they have Thai food here? Well, sort of Thai. I think they're not too sure what real Thai is. Anyway, I couldn't make up my mind, and sort-of-samosas aren't too bad dipped in marinara sauce."
Jaden's stomach flipped. “Good God. Not only did you come up with the idea for such a thing, but you went ahead and ate it?"
"I get creative when I get bored, and a man can only play so many video games. You should know about artistic spirits striving to break free and all that shit.” Hooker spoke with little needles peppering his questions and statements. “Speaking of spirits, there's a liquor store a couple of streets down."
"You went out of the motel room?"
"No one said I couldn't, and it's not like anyone in this burg batted an eyelash. Nobody knows I'm anything to you. And I did put clothes on.” Hooker kicked his currently bared legs. “I like being nude better, but I have some manners. The guy at the liquor store and I got along pretty well. He didn't have a huge selection, but I don't mind a shot or three of sippin’ whiskey. Want some?"
"Thank you. No. I'm...” Jaden hesitated. “I'm full. And I'm not thirsty. And I don't want to get tipsy."
"That's a switch. A guy like you acts as if he lives with a glass in one hand, drowning away those deep, deep sorrows."
"I don't—you know nothing about me."
Hooker ignored Jaden in favor of his monologue. “Four or five fingers of whiskey, that's how much you like, right? Oh, yeah, and it has to be the good stuff. Single-malt Scotch? Double-malt? If you're feeling whimsical, as much as you can, it'll be wine, but only from a good year. You might have tried champagne once, but you're definitely not the party type—except for picking up prostitutes.” Hooker bounced, thrusting up from the bed and landing only to launch himself again as if he was on a trampoline. “I don't know anything about you, huh? Go on, tell me how close I didn't get."
"The champagne was a gift from a friend,” Jaden responded absently, only half-hearing part of Hooker's babble. “It wasn't meant to be opened. Or drunk."
"You did, though. To see what bubbly was all about. Too cheerful for you—you'd rather sit in the dark crying into a beer."
"I don't cry."
"Nah. You probably don't have beer, either. Too many memories."
"How would you—"
"Do you like bourbon? This isn't Kentucky's finest, but I'll offer what I have that you might want—care for a drink?"
"No."
"Spoilsport."
Jaden raked a hand through his hair, not sure if what he felt was frustration or despair. He tilted the focus of their conversation. “Alcohol, video games, and junk food. You've had a good day, haven't you? How much did it cost me?"
"Besides the pleasure of my company, not that you're taking advantage, and the blowjob that wasn't this morning? Somewhere in the neighborhood of ... lots. I'm keeping a running tab. Bet when the time comes to pay the bill, you'll be surprised at how expensive a visit to Nowheresburg turned out."
Hooker's words buzzed in Jaden's ear, fading in and out from jarring shocks of sound to fuzzy white noise. He didn't want to pay attention, yet he kept getting dragged back in. “Since I'm paying for this,” he said abruptly, “go back to your game and leave me alone. I have things to do."
"Same ‘things’ you stayed busy with from the ass-crack of dawn until a few hours past the dick of dusk?"
"That's delicately put."
"I'm not the kind of man who talks pretty. Of course, you could pay me to. That'd be different.” Hooker bounced more gently, thoughtful. “Add another hundred bucks and I'll be so polite you can pretend you're fucking the President."
"You forget. He didn't have sex with that intern."
"Bullshit. She sucked him. That's sex.” Jaden glanced up to see Hooker making a crude gesture. “It's not all about cocks in, cocks out. Hands, mouths, even feet if you want to get kinky—they're sex organs as much as dicks. Just depends on what you do with them."
"Thank you for the insightful commentary. However, I remember asking you to shut up."
Hooker hooted in amusement. “Look at you, pissed off as a wet cat. I'd bet I could get you mad enough to start snapping my head off, and not in the fun way. I owe myself fifty bucks."
Jaden glanced up to fix Hooker with a glower, not asking why the bet. “Put it on my tab."
"Will do.” The man flopped down on his back, tugging at tangled sheets. “Smells like spunk in here. Old spunk, sour sweat, pussy. This place is a dive, you know that? We passed half a dozen chain hotels on the drive in. Why pick Brother Sam's Snooze Stop? Speaking of which, ‘snooze', my ass. These walls are pretty damned thin and I've heard more than a few different couples in the rooms to either side, all of them having a lot more fun than we did this morning."
"I chose this place for the sake of anonymity.” Because Andy would look for me here. Jaden took off his coat, frowned, and began patting the pockets. The weight didn't feel right. Had he dropped something?
"I wish to remain anonymous,” Hooker ribbed. “Classy."
Jaden began going through his pockets. “Look, I don't want anyone else in town knowing I'm here. All right? The last thing I need is a horde of people who claim to remember me from way back when just dying to find out what I'm up to these days, digging for any scrap of gossip they can find."
"Dude, you could poison yourself on all that bitter."
Jaden rolled his shoulders. “All I want is to be left alone."
"No, you don't."
"Beg pardon?” Jaden looked sharply at his hooker, who was occupied by dancing
five fingers over his bare ribs as if playing the xylophone. “No. I'm not making that a question. Consider it a demand. What the fuck do you mean by what you said?"
"Ooh, you're all commanding now. Makes me hot."
"You're not answering the question. As for the other, save it for when I'm interested."
"Like that'll happen in this lifetime. I'm wasting my skills here. But eh, there are worse things to do than kill a day or so being a slacker."
"You're trying to distract me, and I won't let you. What do you mean, I don't want to be left alone?"
Hooker rolled his eyes. “It's more like this: you don't know what it is you do want. If I'd asked, I wouldn't have been allowed to visit your friends with you. I can tell you're pissed about me going outside the room. Funny when you think about how you asked me to spend a few days having fun, among other things, but God forbid you touch me or let me touch you in this shanty motel. What does that make me? A dirty little secret or a measuring stick to compare against the men you really want to see?"
"Neither. Stop being so ... I didn't hire you for the sake of philosophy."
"Nope. You hired me for sex, and let me say that getting laid would probably do you a couple hundred worlds of good. And hey, the night's still young.” Hooker canted his hips, half-hard dick starting to aim for the ceiling. “It's your dime, but I'm interested if you are."
Jaden turned away. “Not now. I'm ... I have ... not now."
"You're not getting a discount for playing ‘hands-off'. Your loss.” Hooker sighed, although not sadly. More resigned, with a hint of disgust. “What are you doing?"
"I think I've lost something.” Jaden began going through his pockets, pulling out wallet, personal keys, an uneaten power bar, his silenced cell phone, a notebook, but no ... “Damn!"
"And the plot thickens,” Hooker remarked. “What did you lose?"
"My PDA.” Jaden threw his jacket on the floor, both angry at himself and terrified. The handheld organizer didn't just contain his contact information and an annotated copy of his current project. The PDA was where he kept his journal. File after file of damning proof, the truth behind his lies to Andy and Jonas. Hell, even a record of his prostitute's existence.
If he'd lost the thing at Andy's house...
"I have to go back,” he said abruptly, snatching up the motel key card. “I don't know how long I'll be."
"I'm going for a walk. I may be some time."
"Yeah, well, don't resort to cannibalism before I get back."
Hooker stretched, idly starting to work his own cock. “Don't worry. I only like to eat one part of the human body."
"I'm sure.” Jaden considered putting his jacket back on, then discarded the idea. “Look ... we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I'll make the whole mess up to you after I've found my PDA."
"Sure, whatever. Your call. I live to serve, right? If I'm awake when you get back, we can talk ... or we can skip words altogether. But if I'm asleep, I have a right to catch Z's when I need them. So we'll see what happens."
Jaden bit his lip. He had done business with countless, nameless, faceless prostitutes before, all easily and quickly forgotten. He didn't build these sorts of bills for the sake of friendship. They'd always both known the score. This man, though ... unpleasantly different. He nettled Jaden. Perhaps he needed a lesson in manners.
He determined that when he got back, he'd swallow enough of the sipping whiskey to go numb, then fuck his hooker through the shoddy motel mattress. No doubt Hooker had a way with fucking that could win prizes, and probably had.
First, though, he had to find his PDA. Stuffing his feet back into the borrowed sneakers, he grabbed the scratched door handle and stalked out into the deepening night. From behind him, he heard Hooker laugh, but didn't want to think about what the man found funny this time.
Back to Andy's, exactly what he'd sworn he would never do.
When men make plans, the gods laugh. Truer words...
* * * *
The lack of sounds struck Jaden as eerie and not a little uncomfortable. He'd gotten too used to city streets where cars never stopped rushing through the night, horns blaring and tires screeching, where men and women argued beneath his window and music blared from one radio or another.
This rural silence was absolute, and even the low purring of his car's engine seemed to be an unwelcome intrusion.
Jaden pushed on, the need to get his PDA back rapidly obsessing him. Logically, he knew neither Andy or Jonas had ever owned one of the things, and would hardly be able to operate it, much less dig around. He knew Andy would respect his privacy and simply put the device aside. More, Andy would have called the motel to let Jaden know he'd forgotten something.
Damn. What if he had? Hooker might have been playing a joke, pushing Jaden's buttons to see if he could find the one to make him blow. Jaden slammed his fists on the steering wheel, flinching when he hit the horn and produced a shock-wave of a deafening honk.
Pulling back into Andy's drive gave Jaden shivers of déjà vu. Only now, he wasn't expected. When they were all boys together, dropping by unannounced wouldn't have been a big deal. No one stood on ceremony. Ah, hell, Andy and Jonas probably still didn't. They might be puzzled, but they'd welcome him in.
Jaden stepped out of his car, leaned against the hood, and took a deep breath. He glanced up at Andy's house, expecting to see lights on. The darkness of the place surprised him. Both trucks were there, parked exactly as they had been earlier in the day—neither had gone anywhere.
Asleep already? It seemed early to Jaden, but then again, he was used to city hours, wasn't he?
It might be better not to knock or ring the doorbell. He didn't see any of the hounds, which probably meant they were inside. Hopefully they were too full and sleepy to rouse themselves and bark..
He'd check outside first.
Andy's borrowed sneakers made only soft noises as they scuffed through the dirt of the drive, and even less sound when Jaden stepped into the yard's overgrown sedge grass, though the long blades did whisper about his calves instead. Not enough to wake anyone, or so Jaden prayed.
He crept along, following the paths he'd taken earlier. After breakfast and Andy's lecture on how little he'd eaten, the lovers had led Jaden on a walk around the property. Every bit was familiar to him, but there were a few changes worth noticing. For one, Jonas’ fleeting obsession with gardening had borne the unexpected and unprecedented result of tall iris stalks and haphazard but breathtaking rose bushes covered in fragrant blooms of every color.
Their delight in the beauty of the astonishing harvest had been more wondrous than the flowers.
On an impulse, Jaden squatted before the largest of the rose bushes, struck by the way they were shadowed yet still brilliant under the light of the moon. He stroked the top of a bloom, scattering a few droplets of moisture, pinched a petal between forefinger and thumb to feel the cool, velvety texture, and filled his nose with the flower's heady perfume.
Roses in the dirt.
But no PDA. Jaden gathered the strength in his legs, readying himself to stand, and glanced up at the large bay window just above the ramshackle garden to make sure no one had spotted him.
Oh, my God.
Unwilling or unable to move, Jaden stared at the window. His lips parted as if a word wanted to make its way out, but died on his tongue.
Andy and Jonas stood just behind the window, Jonas’ back against Andy's chest and Andy's arms linked loosely around Jonas’ waist. Utterly nude and wholly comfortable, they lazed in each other's arms under the moonlight.
Jonas said something—Jaden couldn't hear him—and pointed at the silvery orb above. Both chuckled, Andy nestling his chin into the curve of Jonas’ shoulder. He caught Jonas’ hand in his own and brought it to his mouth, brushing a lingering kiss over the palm.
Jaden took a shuddering breath. He could have sworn he'd felt the lingering touch of Andy's lips on his own skin. Only his imagination, of course, still nagging at h
im with lust for what wasn't his to take. All the same ... no. He curled his hand into a fist.
In the window above, Jonas half-closed his eyes in lazy pleasure while Andy teased him with more kisses traveling up so far as he could reach on Jonas’ arm. He left a trail of gleaming wetness behind from tasting Jonas’ flesh with his tongue. Murmuring something against the crook of Jonas’ elbow, he made both of them laugh again.
Jaden ached at the sight. He couldn't dare move lest he be spotted; he was trapped until the lovers moved on. At the least, though, he could have turned his head or lowered his eyes.
He didn't.
Andy dropped Jonas’ arm and moved to kissing a path across Jonas’ shoulder and up his neck. He seized the man's earlobe in his teeth and playfully worried the skin, probably growling like one of the dogs who wanted to play. Jonas bumped his ass against Andy's pelvis and turned his head, getting the abused ear out of reach.
Bringing their faces close enough for their lips to meet.
The two clung together, mouth to mouth, tilting this way and that as their kiss deepened. Jonas slowly turned to face Andy, first holding him tight, then trailing fingertips down Andy's bare back, rubbing and clasping. Andy did the same, just as hungry for touch, and taking it one step further to reach down and grasp the tight muscle of Jonas’ ass cheek.
Jonas tore away from the kiss, lips still parted as he arched his neck. He recovered like a drunken man, swaying slightly, saying—whispering—something Jaden didn't need to hear to interpret. The light of challenge glowed in Jonas’ face, the same excitement he shone with when his twin fiddle and his bow formed the purest of connections and made beautiful music, the sort that could fill a man's veins and set him on fire.
Fire. Yes. They burned for each other.
Andy's lips moved as he began to sway the both of them to and fro, slow-dancing, down and dirty. Jaden had seen men try to capture this sort of thing, humping and pumping to a fuck-me beat under the strobe lights of clubs he'd seen on television, but no matter how much they wanted it no one ever came near the mark, or ever would. No one could capture this, the closeness of body and soul of Andy and Jonas in their simple, lazy grind, flesh against flesh. Roaming touches, seeking and claiming, all anyone could dream of.