Tit for Tat

by JS Harker

  Lizzie kicked some more snow, but she headed for the door. “You better.”

  Derek took Flynn’s hand as they went inside. After shedding their winter gear at the door, they clomped up the stairs.

  “Don’t make too much noise!” Mom called up the staircase.

  “Got it!” Derek said.

  “And you know what I mean about noise! No funny business either!”

  “Got it!”

  Derek shut the door to his bedroom and slumped against it. Of course he knew exactly what she was talking about: the benefit of being raised in her house. However, Flynn wasn’t good with cultural shorthand. He probably had no idea what Derek’s mom meant. Which meant an impending question in three… two….

  “Are you normally noisy?” Flynn asked.

  “Lizzie’s going to sleep, so Mom gets paranoid.”

  “And funny business?”

  Yup. Derek was going to die of humiliation. He sat on the floor near Flynn. “It’s a way of saying sex. My mom thinks my sister doesn’t know what it means, but it’s kind of obvious.”

  “It wasn’t to me,” Flynn said.

  “Okay, true. But this is the first time you’ve heard it. My sister’s heard it dozens of times. She’s probably figured it out.”

  “And is there a danger of us making too much noise?” Flynn asked with a grin.

  It was his grin that would do Derek in someday. He could see it. Some far-off distant day when Flynn would turn to him with an impish grin, and Derek would turn into a puddle of lust and die of a heart attack. He felt warm, wanted, and incredibly sexy for just existing in the same space near Flynn.

  “I think there’s a chance we might,” Derek replied.

  Flynn grinned even more. “I found your sweater fetching tonight.”

  “This thing? It’s kind of hideous.”

  “Hm. Maybe that’s why I kept picturing you without it.”

  Because he had seen Derek that way, and he still liked him. Which was how a relationship ought to go, Derek knew. But he wasn’t sure he had ever expected one to work out that way. The only thing Flynn seemed to want to change about him was a lack of adventure, and even that Flynn wasn’t demanding but nudging him. A healthy nudge. The kind of nudge Derek wanted to chase after and see if maybe they could get in trouble for making noise.

  Okay, not really. He didn’t need his mother or father interrupting his sex life. He nuzzled Flynn’s cheek. “How quiet do you think we can be?”

  “There are all manners of ways to stay quiet,” Flynn said. He nipped at Derek’s lips. “We could make it a game.”

  “I lose at games. And I know I’d lose this one.” Derek put his hand on Flynn’s thigh.

  Flynn mirrored his movement, echoing again when Derek began sliding his hand up. He kissed him. “Mm, I might lose it first. But all right. Let’s call it a challenge.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  FLYNN and Derek spent most of their free time together over the next few weeks. Their only distraction was work, something Flynn was ready to sacrifice if it meant exploring more ways he and Derek fit together or discovering more about the human world. Derek needed his job, though, so Flynn decided to keep his for the time being. He didn’t have much time left at it anyway. Christmas went from being weeks away to days. Derek’s work hours picked up, but he still made his way out to Flynn’s cabin nearly every night.

  Back home, the winter solstice was a night of long celebration, seeming to stretch forever because of how time moved differently in the feylands. The parties lasted nearly as long. Flynn wondered if anyone missed him yet. He thought about slipping out to his village, but he didn’t want to miss his time with Derek. There would be more solstice parties.

  In an attempt to cheer himself, Flynn had told Derek they should make the night special. Flynn was trying to cook a meal, but he barely knew how to do so in the feylands, and doing so without magic or knowledge was becoming a disaster. Cooking with a stove was not the same as cooking over a fire. It was deceptively hotter, which only made him more uncomfortable. Vegetables were scattered across the counter, the stove was full of pots, the roast in the oven smelled great but looked as if it would never finish, and Flynn didn’t know why he’d bothered with a completely human dish called mac ’n’ cheese, except Derek’s mother had made it, and it seemed like a good idea. Lulu had taken off for the night, though he wasn’t sure if she was still in the mortal realm or had journeyed home. She’d only said she was off to celebrate. He would have to figure out the food on his own.

  Cheese seemed to cover anything in human food. Maybe he’d cover everything in it before frosting the entire kitchen and walking away. He’d seal the door to the cabin shut and hide in Derek’s dorm room until the end of winter. Surely the ice would melt before the owners came back in the spring, and he wouldn’t care what they thought about the state of things. Nothing would be ruined if he covered it in enough ice.

  A knock on the door interrupted his getaway schemes. Derek let himself in after the first knock. Flynn never bothered locking the door, so Derek had gotten into the habit of coming in on his own.

  “Hey, find everything at the store okay?” Derek asked.

  “Yes,” Flynn replied. The grocery store was a nightmare all its own. He hadn’t known where anything was, and he couldn’t keep scouring aisles. Derek had risked his job and texted during work to get him through finding the missing ingredients.

  “That smells great,” Derek said. He set his backpack on the couch and joined Flynn in the kitchen. He looped his arms around Flynn’s waist and set his chin on Flynn’s shoulder. “How are you?”

  “Better with you here,” Flynn said. He failed to keep the homeache from his voice.

  Derek tensed a fraction. Just enough for Flynn to know he must have said something worrisome. Tired of feeling as though it was a misstep, Flynn leaned into Derek’s touch. He was solid. Warm. His love.

  And yet Derek didn’t have a clue as to why Flynn was feeling lonesome that evening. He tightened his hold and kissed Flynn’s cheek, snuggling against him.

  But Derek’s affections were getting in the way of an already disastrous moment. “I’m trying to cook.”

  Derek withdrew, heading for the couch. “Sorry.”

  The pan full of water and potatoes frothed, and the water billowed up, spilling over the sides of the pan. Flynn swore at it in his native tongue, but it merrily went on its way to making a mess. He grabbed the pan and pulled it from the heat, which stopped the water from rising, but then he was stuck with an uncooked dish and a still-lit stove. His ear twitched, and he felt like sinking through the floor and dying.

  Derek came back to the kitchen, concern in his brown eyes. “Um, honey, is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I’m the host,” Flynn said. “I’m supposed to cook and serve the meal.”

  “You don’t have to do it alone.”

  “But I invited you, and it’s solstice. This is my responsibility. And nothing is working the way it ought. The meat is still raw, and it’s not even boar, and these, these—” Flynn shook the pan. He knew the right word a moment ago, and his word wasn’t quite right for it. The thing in the pot wasn’t the same species as the ones he had at home.

  Fey were supposed to be cold and aloof, especially those of Winter. Flynn never felt that way when he lived in the feylands, never was able to hide his feelings, but simple tasks never frustrated him. Cooking was complicated and messy, and he missed home. Missed having the wind to call on, especially in his home. Missed his parents and siblings. Missed not needing to eat so frequently.

  Derek watched him, the only emotion in his eyes sympathy. Falling into his arms and asking him to fix it would be easy. They could go out. Abandon the food and order more at a restaurant. Flynn could keep pretending being in the mortal world was like being home, with a few quirky twists.

  But it wasn’t. It was full of angry parents and whiney kids and coworkers who constantly misjudged his loved ones. Strang
e men who glared at him and people who laughed at his work uniform. There was pain and mockery at every turn. Being in the mortal world hurt.

  Except Derek. Derek who had patience for him. Derek who respected his odd thinking. Derek who only ever wanted to spend time with him because he liked doing so. Abandoning the mortal realm would mean abandoning him, and no one, either fey or human, had ever cared so much for him. No one embraced him like Derek.

  Staying meant bending to human physics, and Flynn wasn’t sure he could do that.

  He didn’t want to cry. He wasn’t going to do it. He bit his lip hard, but Derek’s sympathy made him want to melt.

  “Flynn,” Derek said softly as he came to the kitchen’s edge. “Take a deep breath and try to tell me what’s really wrong.”

  “I have homeache,” Flynn said.

  “Okay, um, I can’t really solve that.” Derek glanced around the kitchen. “I know you don’t want my help, but I could do stuff while you call your parents or family or something.”

  A call. Flynn would give almost anything to hear his father’s singing or his mother’s voice, except the price would be to give up Derek, and he didn’t want to do that. He shoved the pan down onto the counter, and it landed on one of the vegetables, sliding off balance and splashing hot water onto his hand. Flynn cried out, and tears streamed out of his eyes.

  Derek swept into the kitchen, snapping off the burner and turning on the water from the faucet. He guided Flynn’s hand under the cold water, and its iciness soothed away the pain.

  If only the homeache went away so easily. Flynn curled into Derek, resting his head on Derek’s shoulder and letting Derek wrap an arm around him. His steady heartbeat was quicker than when he slept, but his rhythm added another layer of comfort. Flynn wasn’t abandoned or alone.

  “I don’t know what I said to upset you,” Derek said.

  Flynn flinched. Derek had done nothing wrong. Only the truth could make Derek understand the cause of his pain and Flynn was afraid to share himself. Saying nothing would only keep his pain inside and Flynn didn’t like it. He had to say something.

  “I can’t call home,” Flynn said softly. The words were a release; he felt better and needed to cry all at once. “They don’t have phones.”

  “They’re Amish?”

  “I don’t know what that is.” Flynn closed his eyes tight and buried his face in the crook of Derek’s neck. He didn’t want Derek to see him so upset, but their conversation wasn’t helping.

  Derek turned off the faucet. “So do they actually not have phones, or is it, like, they have phones, but you can’t reach them?”

  “Derek, my head is—” Flynn stumbled over the English words he knew. It was like the more upset he became, the less he knew how to put their syllables in order. “My head and heart hurt. Please, I’m tired of not understanding half of what you say.”

  “I’m sorry,” Derek said. “I didn’t mean to—okay, I’ll be blunter. Is the reason you can’t reach your parents because they aren’t, like, in our reality or time period or world?”

  How had Derek guessed? And was he setting up a devious joke at Flynn’s expense? Flynn straightened so he could look into Derek’s eyes. There was no hint of malice in their amber hue, no sign he wanted to hurt Flynn.

  Denying wouldn’t only be a lie, but it would damage Derek’s beliefs. Flynn wanted to share with him. A different ache settled in his heart because either Derek believed, or he was too cruel, and Flynn wasn’t sure he was ready to find out.

  He couldn’t keep pushing the truth away.

  “You think it’s possible?” Flynn asked. “That I haven’t lost my mind or that I’d be lying?”

  “If you said you came from someplace entirely not of this time and place? Flynn, it’s about the only thing that would make sense,” Derek said. He cupped Flynn’s cheek. “You’re always cold. You have the grace and body of an Olympic athlete, but you eat a ton of junk food and never work out. I’d be scared you’re a vampire, but you go out in daylight and never drink blood.”

  Flynn put his hand over Derek’s. “And it doesn’t scare you?”

  “I’m really putting myself out here, and you’re dancing around it.” Derek frowned. “I don’t know what to do about it, but it’s like there’s a tiny part of you that I don’t get to know, and you’ve gotten to know everything about me. Please just tell me. Are you human or alien or what?”

  Derek believed. He believed there was a chance Flynn was something different from himself, and he didn’t balk at it. He asked the question with honest eyes and a concerned frown—concerned because he was upset Flynn was so upset. Derek opened his heart and mind to possibilities.

  Flynn held on to him tightly all the same. A few words might shatter their budding love, but he couldn’t hide them anymore.

  “I’m a fairy.”

  Derek blinked. “You don’t mean like—why would you? You probably don’t even know what else that could mean. You mean like Tinkerbell or Queen Mab or Jack Frost. Holy crap, are you Jack Frost?”

  Flynn laughed and snorted, then laughed some more. The joy of Derek believing him mixed with the absurdity of his questions, and Flynn was in a freefall of relief. “No. He’s in the queen’s Court, but I don’t even know him. I’m too common.”

  “There’s nothing common about you, in my experience,” Derek said.

  Derek was looking at him with a soft, familiar awe. As if somehow he’d known Flynn was special their whole time together. Only if they were in the feylands, he wasn’t. He was ordinary, plain. His brother was the handsome one and his sister the smart one. Multiple siblings were more alluring. Flynn was the curious one. The one who asked too many questions.

  But to Derek he was special, and Flynn loved him even more for it.

  Suddenly Derek’s mood shifted, and he scratched his head. “I feel kind of stupid because I really doubt you need the present I got you.”

  “Present?” Flynn asked.

  “Yeah. For Christmas.”

  “You didn’t need to get me another gift.”

  “Another? This would be the first,” Derek replied.

  Flynn shook his head. Why was he surprised Derek saw it that way? “You give me things all the time. Cookies. Coffee. Kisses.”

  “Oh, I guess I didn’t think of them as gifts, really. But this one definitely is.” Derek glanced at his backpack and back to Flynn. “I don’t know if it’ll cheer you up or make it worse or what.”

  Flynn took his hand. “You put thought into it. I want to see it.”

  Derek nodded, though he looked nervous still. He took Flynn over to the couch and opened his backpack. Flynn sat down and took out a wrapped box that took most of the bag’s space. The paper around it glimmered in the light.

  Flynn resisted the urge to snatch the paper off or to count the tiny dots of glimmer. His ear twitched. What could Derek have gotten him? He opened the wrapping carefully and popped the lid off.

  Inside was a set of ice skates nestled in equally sparkly tissue paper.

  Derek sat on the couch beside Flynn. “We had so much fun on our first date. I got a set for me, too, so if we go again, we’ve got our own skates. Which, I mean, you’re a fairy, so I don’t know if you even really need skates or—”

  Flynn chuckled and kissed his cheek. “I do. Our feet and shoes don’t naturally slide across ice.”

  “Oh! Oh good.” Derek nodded a few more times. In his nervousness, his gaze drifted out into the room.

  A jolt went through him, and he leapt from the couch and went toward Lulu’s shelf. He pointed at it, shaking his finger. “Hold on. I didn’t make her up!”

  Flynn scratched behind his ear. “Uh, no.”

  “You lied to me! You told me I made her up!”

  Flynn had been very careful about his words on the subject. “I did not.”

  Derek scowled. “Oh, come on. You totally did.”

  “No. You said you made her up, and I didn’t correct you,” Flynn replied.


  “It’s kind of the same thing, Flynn.”

  “Not where I come from.”

  “What else have I been assuming wrong?” Derek asked. “Is it a long list?”

  Derek was growing angry, and Flynn didn’t want that. He wanted to hide from it, but Derek had given him a gift. He didn’t have to accept it, but rejecting it would hurt him, and he didn’t want that either. The only thing Flynn had for him was the truth.

  “I can’t think of anything else,” Flynn said quietly.

  “Okay, what about the sugar thing being scarce. Is that true?”

  “We can’t grow sugar in the Winter feylands,” Flynn replied. “And the Summer folk are extremely protective of their crops.”

  “Which is part of why you like it. You don’t have it at home.” Derek paced and frowned. “But what about the candy canes you gave me?”

  “It’s a side effect of being here, but so many humans associate that candy with my time of year that I can conjure the candy canes.”

  Derek stopped. “Wait, two questions. Can you do any other candies, and what exactly did I eat?”

  Flynn squirmed and set the box aside. “I don’t know, and you ate magic.”

  “I was high on magic?”

  “High might not be the correct term. An altered state of consciousness,” Flynn said.

  “But you knew something was wrong with me.” Derek’s face fell. “And that’s why you took care of me. You felt obligated.”

  “I did, but I didn’t have to,” Flynn said as he stood. He had to make certain Derek knew he cared. “It was my fault. For giving them to you and not telling you. And I felt that I should take care of you, but I didn’t find it a task or think it a chore. I wanted to look after you because I liked you and I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Derek stilled, and his anger seemed to slide away the closer Flynn came to him. He reached for Flynn’s hand, and Flynn clasped his.

  “You did something at the lagoon on our date,” Derek said quietly. “Something so I could crawl out there?”