Catching Orion

by Sloane Kennedy

It was like our mouths were feeding upon one another’s and the more we touched, the more ravenous we became. I backed Ryan up against the railing and wrapped my arm around his waist to keep from actually pushing him into the unforgiving metal. As my tongue swept into his mouth for an even deeper taste, Ryan’s arms wrapped around my neck and the fingers of one hand curled into my hair and held on tight. His tongue eagerly met mine and then it was pushing into my mouth so he could get his own taste. We were both panting and shaking when our bodies were forced to part enough to draw in some much-needed oxygen.

  “Did I mention I love onions? You have the best onions ever,” Ryan said shakily against my mouth.

  I laughed and kissed him softly. “Baby, I’ll be your onion whenever you want.” I gave him another gentle kiss and then forced myself to release him. I swept his jacket off the ground and then held it out for him so he could put it on. He was already flushed from our kisses, but he blushed prettily anyway. Once the jacket was on, I took his hand in mine and led him down the last flight of stairs. The air was cool but comfortable as we stepped outside. I expected him to drop my hand once we were in public, but to my surprise, he didn’t. However, he did give it a hard squeeze when I led him to my motorcycle.

  I cursed myself for being such a fool. It was a first date and we were virtual strangers, despite what had just happened in the stairwell. Whoever I’d been chatting with had mentioned how exciting it would be to ride on the back of my Harley, but that hadn’t actually been Ryan. I was a big guy and could defend myself, so it hadn’t really bothered me to go and pick up my date rather than meet him at the location. But someone like Ryan, especially with what I suspected was an ugly past, would have insisted on taking his own transportation.

  “Oh right, you said you have a Harley,” Ryan murmured as he motioned to the motorcycle with his free hand. At least he was still holding mine. That gave me hope.

  “Yeah… sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I can just, uh, meet you there if you want?”

  Ryan glanced at the bus shelter that was at the end of the block from his apartment building. I figured that meant he didn’t have a car. The idea of him taking a bus to our date bothered me greatly. His neighborhood didn’t seem as god-awful as some I’d seen in Atlanta, and it was relatively early, but I still didn’t want it.

  “I could call you a cab? Or we could share one?” I offered hopefully.

  “No,” Ryan said firmly. I felt my heart fall, but then rebound when Ryan dropped my hand and walked to the bike. “This is good. Different is good.”

  It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me, but I wasn’t going to question it. I was just glad he was still willing to go out with me. After that kiss, there was no way I was going to be able to let him go without learning everything about him that I could. I’d had some great kisses in my life, but that kiss with Ryan blew them all out of the water. Even the years of kisses and much, much more that I’d shared with my ex, Peter, didn’t hold a candle to my first kiss with the gorgeous, oh-so-sweet Ryan Abernathy.

  As I helped Ryan put on the extra helmet I’d brought along, it suddenly occurred to me that I was going to have to eat a whole lot of crow the next time I saw my uncle.

  Because the meddling bastard had been one hundred percent right–tonight was turning out to be one of the best I’d had in a really long time.

  And it’d barely even started yet.

  CHAPTER 5

  Ryan

  MY BODY still felt the vibrating of the motorcycle’s heavy idling long after I climbed off the big machine. But since I was still tingling with all the sensations that had accompanied Knox’s white-hot kiss, I really didn’t care. And admittedly, it’d been fun hanging onto Knox as the rumbly bike had navigated the streets of downtown Atlanta. I’d actually been happy when Knox had made a wrong turn and we’d gotten lost. I’d been half tempted to direct him to the interstate so we could head for the coast and have our date at the beach like he’d said. The idea of walking hand in hand with him, our toes sinking in the soft sand as the ocean lapped gently at our feet, had planted itself in my head like the most invasive of vines.

  “Sorry about that,” Knox said as he put our helmets onto hooks on his bike. “I’m still learning my way around… I studied the route before I got to your place but my sense of direction isn’t great. Took me years to find my way around L.A.”

  “Is that where you’re from?” I asked. “I’ve lived in Atlanta my whole life and still get lost from time to time,” I added.

  “I was an army brat until my mom died,” Knox said as he once again took my hand. There were people making their way up and down the sidewalk around us, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. I’d never once had a guy hold my hand in private, let alone public, so it felt strange and amazing at the same time.

  “I lost my dad a few years later. I went to live with Uncle Frank and his partner in Minnesota. They ended up retiring out here and I followed a guy I’d been dating to L.A.”

  “Is he the one you were talking about?” I asked. “The recent breakup, I mean?”

  Knox shook his head. “No, that was Peter. I met him in L.A. He owned the tattoo shop I was working at. We were together for almost six years. I was hearing wedding bells while he was planning his escape. Uncle Frank suggested I come out here and start my own shop. I had enough money saved up, so I did.”

  Although Knox kept his voice light, I could see in his eyes that he was still smarting from his breakup. Just like the topic of my parents had threatened to put a damper on the evening, so did talking about his ex. I gave his fingers a squeeze. “Your ex is an idiot,” I said. “Now let’s go paint some fruit.”

  Knox smiled and I reveled in the fact that the smile didn’t leave his face at all during the short walk to the little studio. We chatted about unimportant things the entire time, and when we were finally settled in front of our canvases with a tasty glass of red wine on the little table between us, we couldn’t stop looking at each other. It wasn’t until the instructor came out to introduce himself that I made myself look around the room.

  When had that happened? When was the last time that I hadn’t been aware of my surroundings from the moment I walked into a place?

  It wasn’t until the instructor said, “And a big welcome to all the winners of the Heart2Heart raffle,” that I noticed all the people in the room were men. Couples, actually. I looked at Knox who also seemed to be putting two and two together. The instructor confirmed our suspicions a moment later when he added, “Tonight is just the first of many sessions for the H2H winners, since an anonymous donor partnered with this establishment’s owner to offer up fifty winning dates.”

  “Fifty?” I said as I looked at Knox. “That’s incredible.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Knox said. His brow was furrowed just a little.

  “What?” I asked, but he shook his head. Before he could respond, the instructor continued.

  “Because we have so many winning couples, we’ve decided to make the evening more special. We’ll be tailoring these sessions to the specific tastes of our patrons. That means you gentlemen are in for a special treat tonight. Instead of a still-life model, we’ll be using a real-life one… well, two actually.” The instructor smiled coyly. “Since the hope is that many, if not all of you, find yourselves on the journey to finding your soulmate tonight, we’ve decided to inspire you with two people who’ve been on that same journey for years and are as happy today as they were over thirty years ago when they first laid eyes on one another at the adults-only butter sculpting contest at the Minnesota fair…”

  “Oh, fuck no,” I heard Knox whisper.

  “A big welcome to Frank Darling and the man who was a goner when he saw Frank’s butter balls, his husband, Jack.”

  “No,” Knox breathed in a horrified whisper.

  “Are you all right?” I asked him. My eyes were on him so I didn’t spare more than a brief glance at the two men who entered the room and went to stand on a raise
d section in the middle of the circle of canvases. Knox looked like a deer caught in headlights.

  People were applauding, but it wasn’t until I heard a wolf whistle that I finally turned my attention toward the center of the room. The two men, both in their late sixties to early seventies, had just dropped their white fluffy robes. My mouth dropped open at the sight but not because the men were overly flabby or pale-skinned. They were a little of each, but I barely noticed that, the wrinkles, or their dangly bits because I was too caught up in the fact that I recognized the men.

  Both of them.

  “Oh my god,” I breathed as I watched the men embrace in a pose that probably looked beautiful to the more discerning eye but made me want to find a bottle of bleach for my own corneas.

  The shorter of the pair leaned his head on his partner’s shoulder. He briefly opened his eyes and was in the process of closing them again and pulling his face into a mask of serenity when his gaze fell on me.

  “Oh, shit,” he said.

  His eyes slid to Knox.

  “Oh, shit,” he repeated.

  “Uncle Frank?” Knox croaked in disbelief.

  Uncle Frank?

  As in his great-uncle?

  What the hell?

  Frank’s partner turned his head so he could see us. “Oooh, you’re so busted, honey,” he whispered.

  “Hey,” Frank said as he gave Jack a light shove. The result was them separating enough so their dangly bits were once again on display. But of course, not everything was dangling anymore. There were some hard bits in there too.

  “You were there drinking the Kool-Aid right along with me!” Frank said with a frown.

  “Well, I always did love your particular brand of Kool-Aid,” Jack responded with a sweet smile.

  Frank got all soft, just not in the spots I would have preferred. I closed my eyes when the guys started making out.

  “Jesus Christ, Uncle Frank!” Knox yelled as he stood up, knocking over the table between us in the process. I barely managed to catch one of the wine glasses before it fell. The other tipped over, spilling wine all over the floor, but fortunately the glass stayed on the table and didn’t break.

  “Oh shit,” Frank said as he seemed to remember his nephew’s presence. He flew off the little platform and rushed to Knox. Dangly and hard bits jiggled. The entire room was silent as the wrinkly man hit the little puddle of wine and slipped. In the process of trying to stay upright, he grabbed for the canvas in front of me. Knox reached for him at the same time I did. I managed to close my hand around his upper arm but then his legs tangled with mine and we all ended up in a heap on the floor with me on the bottom and Knox on top and a whole bunch of naked man in the middle.

  “Oh dear god,” Knox said as he scrambled to his feet. Frank squirmed against me as he tried to right himself. Fortunately, the canvas had gotten wedged between our lower bodies so no bits of any kind came into direct contact with me.

  “Honey,” Jack said as he reached down to grab Frank’s arm to help him. “I told you we can switch things up in the bedroom if you want to try topping so—”

  “Seriously?” Knox growled as he grabbed the robe from Jack and dropped it on his uncle’s naked form. The second he got Frank off me, he was helping me to my feet. “Are you okay?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer that I was fine, but this crazy laugh came out instead. Then another and another.

  Once it started, I couldn’t stop it. I was laughing so hard that tears began rolling down my face. It should have been humiliating, but it was like this valve opened up inside of me and all the shit I’d been hanging onto since I was a little kid started spewing out of me. I’d learned during my own training in trauma counseling that there’d likely be a day where I’d explode after holding everything in for so long, but I’d always just assumed it would come out in the most crippling of ways. Whatever was happening to me now was more like this relief. I’d never really let myself cry about things when I’d been younger because there was no point… tears wouldn’t have changed things during or after all that had happened. But I hadn’t laughed either.

  Ever.

  Not like this, anyway.

  Even watching Shrek had only ever elicited a few giggles or snorts here and there. This was full-on, bone-deep laughter that was real and honest.

  Maybe that was why it felt so damn good.

  I wasn’t sure how long my strange little breakdown lasted, but by the time I was finished, I had my forehead pressed against Knox’s chest. One of his big hands was running up and down my back while the other was cradling the back of my neck. I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. I loved how big and warm and safe he was.

  “Are you okay?” Knox asked worriedly.

  I nodded. I felt wrung out but in the best of ways. “I’m perfect,” I said.

  “Good,” Knox murmured, then he kissed my temple. “Want to watch me kick some naked old man ass?”

  I chuckled and nodded. With the humor in Knox’s voice, I knew he wasn’t really angry. I let him pull me against his side as we both turned to face a couple of very guilty-looking, would-be models who were no longer naked, thanks to the fluffy white robes they’d pulled back on.

  Thank God.

  “Talk fast, you two,” was all Knox said, but he was looking at his great-uncle. The older man’s eyes connected with mine.

  “Are you all right, my boy?” Frank asked as he stepped forward and looked me over. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No, Buddy, I’m okay. But I’m not sure if that canvas will ever recover.”

  “Buddy?” Knox said in surprise. “How do you know his nickname?”

  Frank glanced at his nephew, then back at me and softly said, “He’s a good one, Ryan.”

  I looked at Knox, who looked utterly confused, and smiled. “Yeah, he is,” I murmured. I turned and said to Knox, “Buddy and Jack volunteer at the shelter I work at. He was only ever introduced to me as Buddy so I didn’t know his real name was Frank.”

  “Knox is one of the few people who calls me Frank anymore.”

  “That’s because he knows how Frank got the nickname,” Jack said with a wink.

  “Jesus Christ,” Knox muttered.

  “See, when Frank and I met, I made this comment about his butter balls. Well, a few years later, Frank’s granddaughter, Angela, overheard me say something to Frank about his—”

  “We get it,” Knox cut in. “Move along.”

  I laughed when I saw how green he looked.

  “Anyhow,” Frank said, taking over the story. “Little Angie apparently went back to the Thanksgiving table and started telling everyone Jack liked my butter balls and wanted to know what that meant—”

  “Kill me now,” Knox moaned.

  “—so Jack and I had to do some quick thinking to explain. Jack said he’d called me Butterball like the turkey. Everyone had a good laugh about it and they started calling me Butterball. It eventually got shortened to Buddy. But my boy here,” –Frank gave Knox a pat on the back– “he knew all about my butter balls—”

  “Because someone thought it would be okay to tell a fourteen-year-old the details about how he and his husband met for the first time!” Knox groused.

  “We were having the talk,” Frank said with a wink.

  Knox sighed and said, “Okay, enough. Fess up, Uncle Frank. How did this,” –Knox motioned to the room– “happen?”

  It was then that I remembered we weren’t alone. Every single couple was still in the room and they were all watching us with bated breath. Some were holding their wine glasses in eager anticipation… like they were watching a horror movie and couldn’t risk taking their eyes off the screen long enough to take a sip of their drink.

  Frank looked at Jack, who shrugged.

  “You’re useless,” Frank muttered.

  “You didn’t seem to think so last night… and this morning… and at lunch. In fact, I believe when I had your butter balls—”

  “If you love me
at all, you won’t finish that sentence,” Knox interrupted. “Ever.”

  Jack snapped his mouth shut but sent Frank a wink. The other man went all gooey right in front of me. I didn’t dare look at his lower half for fear that dangly things wouldn’t be as dangly anymore.

  “Okay, fine,” Frank began as he crossed his arms mutinously and focused on Knox. “When you kept refusing to meet any of the men Jack and I wanted to set you up with after you moved here, I took matters into my own hands.”

  “I’ve been getting my business set up!” Knox said in exasperation.

  “You’ve been using it as an excuse to pretend that selfish queen didn’t stomp all over your heart and rip it to pieces!” Frank countered.

  I remembered Knox’s brief mention of his ex, Peter.

  Knox looked like he wanted to respond, but then his shoulders dropped and he snapped his mouth shut. Frank stepped up to him and put his hands on Knox’s arms. “Life’s so short, my boy. I just… I wanted you to have what your Uncle Jack and I have. Even if I’d only had a day with him, I would have taken it. Because a day with him is a million times better than a lifetime without him.”

  Frank looked at Jack and I saw something pass between them. It was palpable, and I was filled with so much want that it nearly brought me to my knees. Would someone ever look at me that way?

  I automatically looked at Knox and saw he was watching me. I felt my chest get tight and my throat felt like it would close off. But when he smiled at me, all that went away and it was like firecrackers began going off inside my body. The sensations didn’t stop when Frank started talking to Knox again, pulling his attention away from me.

  “I wanted to set you up with Ryan when Jack and I met him at the shelter. But I knew you wouldn’t go for it and I knew he wouldn’t either.”

  Frank looked at me. “We don’t know what happened to you, son, but your kindness and heart shines through with every child you help. I knew you’d be good to my boy and he’d help you fight whatever demons haunt you. Just like the man who stole my heart helped me fight mine.” Frank looked at Jack again, but I was too overwhelmed to do anything but stare at the floor. I’d been so sure I’d hidden the truth while at work. On the rarest of occasions, I’d shared some bits and pieces of my past with a kid who was experiencing the same thing I had, but I’d never talked about it with any of the adults I worked with.