A Tiny Piece of Something Greater

by Jude Sierra

  Felix puts his bag on the stool at the breakfast bar. His back is turned to Reid, who can’t read his face, but sees the line of his shoulders rise and fall as he takes deep breaths.

  “Okay,” he says, almost whispering. “I don’t want to, but I have to. I don’t have any. Don’t wanna have to earn it in any of the bad ways.”

  It’s a terrible joke. Reid goes to the bedroom and takes out the envelope where he keeps money. It’s not the most responsible place for it, but he’s been lazy about opening a bank account.

  “Here.” He doesn’t offer any more and he doesn’t offer to give him more if Felix needs it.

  He does hug Felix again when he leaves; he kisses him on the cheek and looks into his eyes when he says goodbye. When the door of the black sedan idling in the lot slams shut, Reid knows the goodbye is somewhere deeper, in a space where he finally trusts himself, perhaps not perfectly and in a small measure. It’s there, though; he’ll hold on to that for a long time, because it’s trust, but also hope.

  Seventeen

  Joaquim cannot get Reid off his mind all day. His preoccupation affects his work, and Mike has to pull him aside more than once to remind him to get his head in the right space. He takes a moment on his lunch break to text Reid and then his sister. His workmates are nice enough, but the more intense his relationship with Reid has gotten, the less comfortable he’s felt talking to any of them, even Nina. Joaquim always misses his family and carries homesickness with him. It aches, usually faintly, but constantly. Today it’s more intense.

  Joaquim: Can we talk tonight? It’ll be late.

  He’s eaten most of his lunch before Sofia replies. Reid hasn’t responded either.

  Sofia: Sure. All okay?

  Joaquim: Sure, I guess.

  Joaquim frowns.

  Joaquim: IDK. Boy issues.

  Sofia: LOL, finally.

  His issues aren’t really the laughing kind, but he doesn’t want to explain over text. His lunch is over anyway.

  Joaquim: I’ll call when I’m done for the day. Night dive. Te amo.

  Sofia: You too.

  Joaquim tucks his phone away and tosses his paper plate into a nearby garbage can.

  “You okay?” Bobby asks, mouth full.

  “Fine,” Joaquim responds. Something makes Joaquim want to protect Reid and protect how they will think of him.

  After the late dive, Joaquim is pleasantly tired and less weighed down by the events of last night. He’s still worried about Reid, but mostly he’s curious. He tries calling him, but gets no answer. He doesn’t get a text back either.

  Joaquim: Seriously, are you okay?

  He texts again half an hour later, after he’s showered and put on his most comfortable sweats. He’s on his bed, cross-legged, trying not to stare at his phone and will it to buzz. Finally, he gives in and calls Sofia.

  “Oi, irmão,” she says.

  “SoSo.” Joaquim rests his back against the wall. He hasn’t talked to her in a while. He’s been too busy with work and with Reid.

  “Boy troubles, hmm?” Sofia is disarmingly direct. “Quim, you’ve been holding out on me. There’s a boy?”

  “Well.” He clears his throat. “It’s new.”

  “How new? And already troubles?”

  “A few dates new. It’s complicated.” He leaves out the blistering-hot sex part.

  “Isn’t that the definition of boy troubles? It’s not like you to do boy troubles, carinho.”

  “I really like him.” He means it too. He’s in too fast and too soon, but he’s connected to Reid. So close to love. Too close.

  “Tell me about him, then.”

  “We met when he did a dive class. He’s new to the Keys. He came to take care of his grandmother’s condo.” Joaquim isn’t dumb; Reid’s story is a cover. That condo development has groundskeepers. “He’s sweet but complicated. Sometimes he’s open, but he’s unpredictable. Moody sometimes.”

  “Not everyone is as laid-back as you,” Sofia points out.

  “True. Anyway, the issue is more that his ex showed up yesterday. Out of nowhere. He’s done stuff to hurt Reid. It was an ugly breakup.”

  “And he just showed up? Where is this boy from?”

  “Wisconsin,” Joaquim says. “I know, right?”

  “That’s a long way to come to show up on your ex’s doorstep. What’s the story?”

  Joaquim only knows the little that Reid has told him, a story he’s hesitant to share. “Last night, Reid called me. He was a mess; it was, I don’t know… Is it weird that a part of me likes that he called me then?”

  “No. Not if you really like him. That means he trusts you, right?”

  “That’s what I think.” Joaquim closes his eyes. “But this morning, this guy, Felix, was still there. And when I asked if Reid was going to be okay, because he wasn’t last night, he got upset with me. Not like, yelling. But he was definitely upset.”

  “Did you leave it like that?”

  “No, actually.” Joaquim stops. Reid’s rapid shift in demeanor and the knowledge that he was leaving him alone with Felix is what had stayed with Joaquim. “He was happy? Sweet. When I left. He hasn’t answered my calls or texts, and he said we’d talk tonight. But SoSo, there’s more to his story with this guy. I can tell. But he hasn’t told me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I want to know if that guy is still there. I can’t tell if I’m jealous or worried or confused.”

  “Can’t you be all of them, bebê?”

  “I guess.”

  “Quim,” she says, and her voice is warm; he closes his eyes and absorbs it. He wishes he was with her, laid out on her bed and talking about his problems while she sits on her spinning desk chair making fun of him and giving him advice at the same time. “It sounds like you really like him anyway. You can’t make him call you. Yesterday, he let you in, right?”

  “Yeah,” Joaquim says.

  “Remember that part, then. If there’s more for him to tell, you have to wait and hope he tells you. I know you’re serious about this, even if you haven’t said so. And if he is serious, he’ll tell you.”

  Joaquim thinks this over. Reid is complicated, but he’s special. There are many, many sides to this boy, and he’s barely scratched the surface. And he can’t help it; he does want more: more of Reid, more of his story, more between them.

  “Obrigado, lindeza,” he thanks her.

  “It’s late for you,” she says. “Email me tomorrow with an update, okay?”

  “Okay,” he says. It’s so long until he will get to visit her. “Beijos.”

  “Pra você também.”

  He puts the phone down and checks the clock. It’s late, and he still has no response from Reid. Complicated, he told Sofia, but the truth is that he is too—or at least his feelings are, because right now he’s a mess of annoyed, worried, and crazy for a boy who won’t answer a fucking text.

  Joaquim plugs in his phone and brushes his teeth. When he comes back, Bobby is in the room. Joaquim has no idea where he’s been, but he’s too tired for small talk. He curls up in his bed after turning his light out. Bobby is gaming; he turns off his light too, but the clacking of his keyboard follows Joaquim into bed. It’s hard to turn off his brain; he swallows more annoyance.

  * * *

  Joaquim wakes to his phone buzzing. It’s early—6:37 a.m. according to his clock—but he checks his texts anyway.

  Reid: I’m so sorry

  Reid: I fell asleep. I must have been more tired than I thought

  Reid: Pls don’t be mad

  Joaquim squints at the phone. He can hardly blame Reid for that; he was tired too.

  Joaquim: I was worried, are you okay?

  Joaquim stares at the message, then remembers Reid telling him he can take care of himself. Conce
rn is still okay, right? After forty seconds of internal debate, he sends it anyway.

  Reid: Fine

  Fuck, are they back to one word answers? Last time this meant Reid was upset.

  Joaquim’s alarm is set for eight, because he is working the shop today. If all he is going to get from Reid is one-word answers, then Reid is going to get the silence of Joaquim going back to sleep. He silences his phone and burrows back into the covers for another hour of sleep.

  He doesn’t check his phone until he’s on his way to the shop. He has a string of texts from Reid. Fuck.

  Reid: Sorry my mom called. Could not get her to stop talking

  Reid: This is why I avoid phone calls

  Reid: Well, not yours.

  Reid: Hello?

  Reid: Damn you’re getting ready for work prob

  Reid: Listen, I just want to be sure u know I’m really sorry abt last night. When’s ur nxt day off? Wanna do sth fun? Go to a club and hang out nxt day?

  Joaquim smiles at the last one; after the intense heaviness of the last few days, that sounds nice.

  Joaquim: Sorry I fell back asleep

  White lies intended to not drag misunderstandings into the light are all right, right?

  Joaquim: That sounds great. Wanna go on Sunday? I have Monday off.

  Reid: Yes!

  Reid: That sounded way too enthusiastic didn’t it?

  Joaquim: No, it was the perfect amount.

  Joaquim gazes stupidly at his phone before pocketing it and clocking in at the register.

  * * *

  The days between making plans and their date are interminable. Joaquim has a lot more boring shit to do than usual and fewer dives, which is a fucking shame; they’re the best way to pass time. In all fairness, he could hardly call diving passing time, since it’s his favorite thing to do. His only distractions are texts and phone calls with Reid, usually recalling memories of the times they’ve been together.

  After three days without seeing Reid, Joaquim wants to call him and tell him how much he misses him, but anyone in the dorm could hear him, so he settles for texting.

  Joaquim: Is it weird to say I miss you? I’m craving kisses ;)

  It dawns on him that this would be the opening salvo for sexting rather than texting; he goes into the bathroom. The scene of the crime. He texts Reid, shaking his head at himself even as he rubs the palm of his hand against his dick through his pants. He’s never sexted before, so he can’t be blamed for poor understanding of the logistics of typing and jerking off, and therefore accidentally coming all over the floor. He types with shaking fingers after he’s come down.

  Joaquim: That was amazing, but I feel bad for everyone else

  Reid: Why? Were u loud?

  Joaquim: Fuck I hope not. No, I came on the floor in our bathroom

  Reid: OMG no. Laughing so hard right now.

  Joaquim: Fuck off ;)

  Reid: Sorry, not sorry. Worth it?

  Joaquim is trying to clean the floor while Reid texts him.

  Joaquim: Hell yeah

  Once all is clean, and Joaquim is put together enough, he makes his way back to his room. That was awesome and weird and complicated, but doesn’t remotely replace having Reid with him.

  He texts again before he can think it through.

  Joaquim: I miss you

  Joaquim’s heart rate spikes again, but for a completely different reason.

  Reid: I miss you too

  * * *

  “Oh my god, hi,” Reid says when Joaquim slips into his car. “You look fucking amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Joaquim says. His return compliment is cut off by Reid’s mouth. Reid’s hand comes around his neck and pulls him in and the kiss is hungry, mirroring Joaquim’s own insatiable desire for Reid. Joaquim pushes into the kiss and grabs Reid’s thigh. Surprised by the feel of skin, he looks down.

  “You’re wearing shorts!”

  “Shut up and keep kissing me,” Reid demands and makes a breathless sound Joaquim could live on when Joaquim slips two fingers under the hem of said shorts. “Or just keep—”

  “Reid, we’re in the parking lot.” Joaquim pulls his hand away reluctantly. Reid’s eyes flutter open. He adjusts himself in his shorts and sends Joaquim a flirtatious sideways look that brings his breath up short. “Let’s go have some fun before I tell you to fuck all this and take me home.”

  “The idea has merits.” Reid’s eyes and smile are so bright. The sunset lights his hair; with his ice-blue, dark-lined eyes, Reid is otherworldly—nontraditionally beautiful, beautiful in his contradictions. “But I wanna dance.”

  “Lead the way,” Joaquim says, buckling himself in. “What?” he says when Reid doesn’t start driving.

  “You need to tell me where to go, loser,” Reid says, a smile crinkling his eyes.

  “Get on the highway and head toward Isla Morada,” he says. When Reid complies, Joaquim puts his hand back on Reid’s thigh. He doesn’t grab or stroke, but keeps his palm there like a promise and a reminder.

  “Fuck,” Reid says under his breath, and Joaquim smirks.

  Eighteen

  Joaquim is sensual and loose on the dance floor. Under his calm and quiet, he is at ease with sex and his own body. Reid loves that. That ease only comes to Reid in spurts and more often when he drinks. He’s not drinking tonight; he’s pretty sure he could if he wanted to, despite being underage. He has no desire to fuck up the night, to blur any of the moments when their bodies press together and Joaquim’s smile is brighter than anything else in the room. Joaquim’s fingers hook through the belt loops of Reid’s brand new shorts; under Reid’s palms and through the thin material of his tank top, Joaquim’s nipples are hard. Reid rolls his body against Joaquim’s. He expects a response, but not Joaquim biting his lip, hard. Harsh breath is so hot between them.

  “You play dirty,” he says into Reid’s ear, then slips a hand into the pocket of his shorts and pulls him closer.

  “Isn’t dirty the point?” Reid says back. It’s so loud in the club they’re nearly shouting; in this bubble, just them in a sweating, throbbing, dim and glitter-lit moment, it’s like whispering. He wants Joaquim to take him hard and bruising-delicious. Asking to get out of the club is on the tip of his tongue; but when he sucks a kiss onto Joaquim’s neck and catches a smirk on someone else’s face dancing behind him, he realizes how much he loves the taste of anticipation.

  “Please tell me you’ll fuck me tonight,” Reid says.

  “Oh, yeah,” Joaquim stays, all wide smile and heat.

  The music changes, and so does the crowd’s dancing. Reid pulls back and grabs Joaquim’s hips in his hands when he turns away. Joaquim has his arms in the air; he’s beautifully lost in this moment. Reid closes his eyes, and the air is thick and heady; he is safe in this space, and it’s fucking fun. He chooses to lose himself to the moment. He’s never felt this way. Promises he brought from Eau Claire, about the new boy he’d make himself, are tangibly achievable if only he turns off his mind.

  And so he does.

  “Come on,” Joaquim pulls the back of Reid’s tank top when Reid doesn’t get out of the car fast enough.

  “Joaquim,” Reid protests. “I bought some stuff; I wanna grab it.” Joaquim’s hands are on Reid’s ass as he bends over to retrieve the grocery bag in the backseat. Desperation followed them from the club all the way home, especially with Joaquim’s hands all over him while driving. Reid’s car is a two-door, so he has to pull the driver’s seat forward to get the bag. When he stands, he lets Joaquim press him against the car and kiss him.

  “Trust me, you want me to grab this,” Reid says when Joaquim pulls away. He takes Joaquim’s hand and pulls him to the condo. Joaquim is biting and sucking at the back of his neck as Reid unlocks the door. And while he senses that Joaquim would do this anywhere in the condo, includin
g at the front door, Reid pulls him to the bedroom.

  Joaquim shuts the door behind them. Reid wants to joke about it—who’s going to catch them?—but then he turns the lights on and pushes Reid against the door. His hands are already at the button of Reid’s shorts. Panic cuts through Reid’s desire. He doesn’t want to lose this, the wave of easy wanting, of not over-thinking, of being.

  He turns the lights off.

  Joaquim stops, and Reid stills.

  “Please?” Reid is asking for more than just having the lights off: he’s asking for the absence of questions, for Joaquim to keep touching him as if he’s unbroken, is not fragile, and has beautiful, unmarred skin.

  “Sure,” Joaquim says. Reid kisses him hard and asks with his touch for Joaquim to take him back to where they were. The bag he’s been holding falls to the floor.

  “Reid, what’s in the bag?” Joaquim asks against the skin of Reid’s neck that he’s marking up pretty well.

  “Lube. Condoms. Fuck, oh—do not stop,” he begs when Joaquim starts to pull away. “Fuck me like you mean it, J,” he speaks into the darkness, into the space where it’s just the two of them and unbreakable pleasure.

  “I always fuck like I mean it.” Joaquim’s got Reid’s shorts off now and helps get Reid’s shirt off.

  “Don’t be gentle.” Reid strips Joaquim without finesse. When Joaquim pushes him toward the bed, Reid gives in easily. He closes his eyes and lets Joaquim saturate his senses. His touch, unhesitating, searing, and intimate, curls deep inside. It’s almost like time loss, riding the pain and pleasure of being manhandled and owned; Reid bites his arm to muffle his cries.

  “Stop. I want to hear you,” Joaquim says. Reid turns his head and moans.

  “Don’t stop,” he says, “even if it sounds like you’re hurting me, you’re not.”

  “Tell me if it’s too much,” Joaquim says.

  Nothing could be, not with you. Reid bites his lip, grabs the comforter under his fingers tightly and gives himself over to his body completely.