Boar gently squeezed Pyro’s shoulder before he could pour himself another drink. “Wanna go smoke? May we smoke in the garden, Jolene?”
She livened up and dropped the photos she was holding into the biscuit tin, which served as her album. “Once you’re done, come to the aviary. I want to introduce you to all my birds.”
“Sure,” Pyro said, forcing a smile, but his head spun when he rose from the chair.
Boar was right behind him, holding his elbow as if he were worried about Pyro’s balance after so much liquor. “See you in a bit.”
Jolene urged Clover to rise. “I need to show you the peacock.”
Pyro allowed Boar to lead him out despite knowing this was an intervention. He hated those as much as he needed them sometimes.
But he still downed that last drink before his partner manager to tear him away from the table.
The large hands on his shoulders offered comfort but didn’t do much in terms of extinguishing the agitation burning in his chest.
The air outside felt icy cold against his warm skin, so he quickly reached into his pocket, and its emptiness made him face the fact that he’d quit smoking long ago. He should have borrowed some of Drake’s.
“Thought you could use some air,” Boar said, and his caring, understanding nature now bothered Pyro for no reason at all.
The bird chirping was yet another source of annoyance. Nothing, not even a moment alone in the quiet garden with the man he loved brought him joy anymore. “You wanna fuck or something?”
Boar scowled, his broad shoulders hunching. “What is up with you?”
Pyro shrugged and opened his pants. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“What the hell? I’m not in the mood.”
Pyro groaned and shoved him back. “Chill, I just want to pee. Jeez.”
Boar spread his arms. “Here? Seriously?”
Pyro grabbed his dick and exhaled when the stream of piss hit the decorative plants. “They don’t have enough water in Nevada, right? Those need all they can get.”
Boar didn’t say anything, just stepped back, then hugged Pyro from behind and put his fluffy chin on Pyro’s shoulder.
Pyro groaned, but since he didn’t really feel like fucking either, he tucked his cock back in and stood still, looking at the sky. “What?”
“You’re all twitchy. Is it the family reunion thing? I know you don’t like those.” Even the tender kiss to his ear couldn’t extinguish the fire of Pyro’s annoyance.
“I’m over that. I’m practically an orphan anyway,” he said but took hold of the forearm resting against his chest. Boar smelled good tonight. Like a fluffy blanket he wanted to roll into.
“You know who else is an orphan. Have you ever talked to Clover about it? Maybe sharing this experience would make things easier?”
Pyro rolled his eyes. “Sure. That’s a great idea. Because he loves whiners so much.”
The cool night around them was helping with Pyro’s dizziness. He had a strong head, so he really must have overdone it.
“What are you saying?”
Pyro didn’t understand why Boar bothered to be so patient with him, but that was his personality, and Pyro had fallen in love with it from day one. But he’d never say anything so sappy out loud.
“I’m saying that he likes me when I’m fun, dangerous, and strong, and all that shit. If I cried on his shoulder, his dick would never rise for me again,” Pyro said, struggling to rein in his tongue, which felt too large in his mouth.
Boar stroked Pyro’s chest but eventually pulled him to a dainty bench by a bush with flowers that shouldn’t have been growing in this climate.
“You don’t know that. Tank is playing the boyfriend role when we’re out in public, but you know Clover’s yours too.”
What a joke. If Boar really believed that, he was blinded by his own good heart. “Nah, I’m just a hot dick to him. We’re buddies, but let’s not pretend he’s as close with me as he’s with you or Drake, or Tank,” Pyro said, shrugging.
He’d always lived his life without relying on illusions and wasn’t about to start now.
Boar pulled on Pyro’s chin. “The fuck? Where’s all this coming from? He’s crazy about you.”
Pyro laughed. “Yeah, he is. Crazy about that D and what it can do. But don’t worry. It’s not like I’m single,” he said and grabbed Boar’s hand. Maybe he could spin this into sex after all? Fuck the frustration out of his system and give Boar some peace while they were at it?
Boar exhaled, his kind eyes locking with Pyro’s. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I don’t like thinking about the family I lost either, but we’ve got each other, and that’s family too, right? Even if weird, criminal, and incestuous?”
Pyro rested his forehead against Boar’s shoulder, his arms sliding around the familiar shape of his man. “You’re crazy. I can only be like this with you. So maybe that makes you my family, if you insist I need to have one.”
“Of course you do.” Boar entwined their fingers, and in this garden, under the stars, in a quiet retirement village, Pyro let his fantasies run free. He imagined the two of them being eighty, drinking cocktails all day, going on the odd trip to a casino, and hell, maybe even getting a white peacock, because why the fuck not?
“I love you. Only you get to see both sides of me,” Pyro said softly, hiding his face close to Boar’s neck. Boar was the only person who never laughed at him or used his weakness. And this worked for Pyro. It worked perfectly.
He was startled by a thud above, and when he raised his gaze to a window in the second floor, he saw Clover pressed against the glass, with Tank’s hand in his hair.
Maybe the boy was about to get his orgasm after all?
Chapter 7 – Clover
Tank’s grandma had the fanciest comforter, all soft and silky against the skin. It was still dark, and Clover longed to stay in bed that bit longer, so he spun around in search for the warm embrace he wanted to spend that time in. But his hand patted luxurious fabric and nothing else, even though Tank liked being the big spoon. Would he be getting breakfast to bed?
Something rustled nearby, something that didn’t sound even remotely like a parrot.
Clover frowned, still too sleepy to put two and two together, but despite the pillow calling his head, he looked over his shoulder and saw Tank’s towering presence. Completely dressed, he had the tiniest flashlight between his teeth and was in the process of checking his rifle.
“What...”
Tank turned his head toward Clover as if it had frozen in one position. The pale light hurt Clover’s eyes, but he wouldn’t close them.
“Sleep, baby, no need for you to get up.”
“But you’ve got your gear on.” Clover pointed at the bulletproof vest Tank wouldn’t wear on regular days, and certainly not to breakfast with his gran.
The somber face didn’t even twitch, but the realization of what Tank was preparing for shot through Clover’s head like lightning, burning through the peace and trust they’d established this past year. “You’ve got your gear on,” Clover repeated, his tone becoming shrill. There was no way he’d go back to sleep now.
He rolled out of bed and sped across the room, putting all the momentum he’d gained into a hard shove at Tank’s chest.
He could not believe this.
“You tried to leave me behind. What the fuck! Do the others know?” Clover demanded despite his air ducts feeling unpleasantly narrow.
Tank grabbed his wrists. “Not yet,” he said in a stern voice. “Why do you have to make it so difficult? You’ve got a warm bed, and you’ll be safe here at Jolene’s until we come back.”
Betrayal was thick in Clover’s throat when he struggled against the grip that felt as effective as any shackle would have been. “I’m not your pet. You can’t just trick me into staying behind. I trusted you when you said I can come too. What the actual fuck?”
Tank looked to the window with a deep sigh, as if he were dealing
with a pile of laundry he needed to hang, not with his life partner. “We’ve taken you with us here, there’s no need for you to also go to Jerry’s. How do I know you won’t throw a fit around him when you couldn’t keep your cool with a stranger?”
Clover stepped back, his brain boiling over. “You lied to me, and now you’re trying to explain yourself? How can you demand trust from me when that’s what you do with it?”
Tank pursed his lips but didn’t speak. If this wasn’t proof that he’d been caught red-handed, Clover didn’t know what was. “Is it so bad that I want to protect you, boy?” He slid his hand to Clover’s hip. “You’re my one shot, the only guy I can see my romantic future with. I can’t lose you.”
This was such dirty play. Clover couldn’t believe that Tank of all people would stoop so low. “And I can’t even trust your word? Are you trying to say that I’m important enough to be lied to for some greater good?”
Tank tightened his hold on Clover. “Yes, yes you are. I love you, boy, and I would hurt your feelings to protect you. Sue me.” His gaze was intense in the first rays of sun that snuck through the blinds, and it pinned Clover to the floor.
Clover stared at him, his chest hurting from the invisible arrow stuck in his heart. “Seriously? I’ve waited to hear this for so long, and this is how you tell me? To soften the blow of leaving me behind?” But he couldn’t bring himself to push Tank away even when his eyes started welling up.
Tank flinched and stroked Clover’s shoulder. “No, no, no, don’t cry baby. I’ve only had good intentions. You know how much I care about you, right?”
Clover choked up as the wound in his chest only grew more infected. “Like a pet. You don’t see me as an adult at all, do you? As a partner? You just want to make all the decisions for me! That is so unfair.”
Tank pulled Clover into a hug and his firm chest offered comfort, even if Tank himself was the source of Clover’s distress. “Don’t say that, it’s not true. It’s just that you are younger than us. It will take some time for you to learn certain things, and I don’t want you become a casualty while you’re at it.”
“I’ll be with you, won’t I? How can I learn anything if you don’t let me try? This isn’t the kind of life I want. I want to be a part of it all. Why can’t you understand that?” Clover asked and shoved at Tank’s chest again, rejecting the comforting touch. He wouldn’t let it blur his eyes.
The tower of muscle tensed, just like it did when Tank was about to strike, but Clover had no doubt his man would never hit him in a fight, no matter how rough training could get. “Fine. You need to be ready in fifteen.”
Clover stepped back and filled his lungs with a gasp. Despite his pleading, he hadn’t quite expected Tank to give in. “Thank you. I will. And you’ll see I’ll do just fine!”
Tank switched on the main lamp and kneeled above his weapon case. “We’ll see about that. Wear the kevlar vest,” he grumbled.
He rubbed the tears out of his eyes, unbearably frustrated. He’d wanted to have that melting feeling in his stomach when he’d heard Tank say ‘I love you’ for the first time. But bitterness overflowed in him and wouldn’t let him enjoy the moment. It couldn’t even be pure disappointment, like the hundred percent cocoa chocolate that tasted like chalk. No, it was the eight-five percent one, verging on pleasant while still leaving Clover dissatisfied.
But he walked to his luggage and dressed without a word, acutely aware of Tank lurking behind his back. He didn’t know how to feel or how long this foul mood would last, but at least he’d stood his ground about this. He loved Tank with all his heart, but if his man couldn’t see him as a partner when it mattered, their relationship would be shockingly uneven.
Tank stood in the door with his arms crossed on his chest, as if he made it his job to annoy Clover. “Tick-tock,” he said in a stern voice.
Just last night, Clover had fallen asleep with his cheek on that pillow of a pec, trusting that he and Tank had a mutual understanding. Now, he saw that his man considered him incompetent for anything other than cuddles.
“You should have woken me up on time if you’re in such hurry,” Clover said, intent not to give in to Tank’s pressure, but he was ready as soon as he closed his bag. He walked up to him, demanding passage without a word.
Tank stood in his way for a total of three seconds before finally letting him through. Clover did not say thanks and went straight downstairs, to the open front door where Boar stood with a large plate of sandwiches wrapped in cling film. It was only when Clover neared the car that he noticed Jolene in a fluffy robe and curlers in her hair.
Despite the early hour, she seemed as alert as ever. “I prepared some lunch for you boys. Have fun in Vegas. And make sure to go to the Pegasus Buffet. They serve crab on Fridays.”
Clover forced a smile. It wasn’t Jolene’s fault her grandson was being an asshole. “We will, thank you!”
Five minutes later, they were on the road. Clover had meant to ride in the rental car with Tank, but didn’t want to look at his face after what happened and made a point of taking the vacant passenger spot in Drake’s van. He kind of hoped music would relieve him from having to talk, but Drake switched off the radio as soon as a list of newest hits started. He hated the music popular this season.
Since he wasn’t in the mood for talking, Clover pretended he’d fallen asleep, but woke up to a hauntingly familiar neighborhood God-knows-how-much-later.
Single-story homes stretched as far as he could see, every single one with white walls and a light brown roof. The single anomaly from that rule was a house painted a rusty shade in its entirety, its well-maintained garden a splash of green in the beige scenery with the odd tree and palms sprouting beyond the flat landscape. He’d spent most of his life here, yet after a year in the lush greenery surrounding their home, the parched city made his throat dry.
Or maybe it was the AC working in overdrive.
He yawned and took in the sunny street. For a few precious seconds, he didn’t remember why he was here, but the kevlar under his top brought him back to reality in a snap.
“We’re here, huh?” he asked Drake, but it was more of a statement than question.
Drake smirked and briefly squeezed Clover’s thigh. “Yep. Home sweet home, right?” he said before pulling into a small parking lot in front of a Thai restaurant that must have gone out of business. The other car was already there, and Clover snorted when he saw the sandwich plate on its roof, half-emptied already.
Clover shook his head. “Yeah, right. Home sweet hell more like.” He gave Drake a quick kiss on the cheek and faced away from him with his stomach grumbling and dying to be filled.
“Are you all right?” Drake asked when Clover touched the door handle.
“Yeah, just hungry. You guys can stop checking on me, I’ll handle whatever’s coming.”
He was sweaty by the time Drake squeezed his hand, never looking away from Clover’s eyes. His own seemed even darker than usual when he nodded. “But it can be hard. You can say if you need to tap out at some point.”
Clover tried to smile but couldn’t force himself to. “You know my safeword’s ‘chicken’.”
Drake snorted, but he leaned in and gave him the softest kiss that tasted of soda and nicotine. “Go get him, chicken,” he said and left the car.
Drake didn’t like to eat before a job and had cigarettes instead, so Clover was the lucky guy to snag the last two sandwiches. He ate them, pretending there was no weird silence between him and Tank. At least Pyro and Boar didn’t seem to notice.
“How do we do this? Are we taking him to a remote location?” Pyro rubbed his hands and stared at Tank, waiting for a plan to follow.
“Huh?” Tank frowned, as if the question had pulled him out of his thoughts. He also wasn’t in a very talkative mood. Served him right. “I… maybe. Is there anywhere discreet to park next to that bastard’s place?” he asked, acknowledging Clover for the first time since they’d arrived.
; Clover stilled when all eyes focused on him. He loved it in sex, but right now the attention made him feel inadequate, as if he was about to prove that Tank was right, and that he couldn’t handle shit.
“Y-yes. The alley behind the house is kinda private. I doubt anyone would consider taking down the licence plates or something. I’ll show you,” he said and focused his attention on his second sandwich, which tasted suspiciously like last night’s prawn cocktail.
“Clover? It is you! Oh, my God! Where have you been?” A male voice yelled from the other side of the street and Clover froze in disbelief.
He had to squint against the sunshine, since even his shades weren’t helping, but when the guy crossed the street, heading their way, recognition kicked in. Ren had grown a bit since they’d last seen each other, but he was still a twig. His black hair had gotten longer, but other than that, he was still the same fresh-faced and bubbly boy. Now sixteen, he’d joined their crew not long before Clover had been sold.
Clover had often wondered what had become of him, but when he spotted a large paper bag with the ‘Jack’s Burgers’ logo printed on one side in Ren’s hand, it became obvious he was still working with Jerry. It used to be Clover’s job to get their boss his Friday treat, and like clockwork, it had been at 10 a.m., as soon as the burger place opened. Clover had been gone for over a year yet nothing had changed in this hole of parched despair. As if Clover had passed through Jerry’s house without leaving a mark. He shouldn’t have been upset about this, but he was.
Clover glanced at his friends, whose stances created a nervous atmosphere, but Ren approached without a care in the world and put the bag with food on the hood of their car so that he could hug Clover. A year ago, Clover wouldn’t have heard Drake’s voice at the back of his mind saying: watch out, he could have a knife on him, but now that internal warning made him stiffen rapidly enough to alert Ren.
“Are you okay, Clo?” he asked, his lips pursing as he leaned back before turning his attention to the other guys. “Hi? Are you... friends?”
“Y-yeah, I’m good. Sorry, we’re in a rush. I’m guessing Jerry’s in?”
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