by Lolly Walter
“Maybe he’s safe,” Devin said. He didn’t know why, but it mattered to him that Joe’s dog was all right, that Joe believed his dog was all right.
“Hunger’s an awful thing, Devin. It makes you desperate and hard, and it kills you in the end.”
Joe released Devin’s head and tapped his shoulder until he stood. Standing like this, inches apart and facing each other, the height difference was enough that Devin could tuck Joe under his chin. He should have felt powerful, the way he had when Joe had walked into that office downtown and they’d seen each other for the first time. But Joe’s big eyes were boring into his in the way Devin had come to expect, the way that promised he was protected, safe.
And then those eyes faltered, grew soft, and Devin understood that Joe needed to be protected, too.
Three
“I said no, motherfucker.”
Joe pinched the bridge of his nose and walked across the open space of A-floor, Devin breathing down his neck. He watched the cracked ridges of the old vinyl floor as they passed, gray and ugly, beneath his feet. That helped him pretend he was deaf.
“You’re such a douche, Joe. I’m not doing this.”
Maybe counting the cracks would work better. Joe moved his lips with the count. Devin’s grumbling faded, and Joe stepped over thirty-two cracks before he reached the door of the only other private room on the floor. He’d raised his hand to knock when Devin grabbed his wrist with one hand and his upper arm with the other and yanked him back three steps.
Devin’s fingers circled all the way around Joe’s wrist until they overlapped to the first knuckle of his thumb. Joe watched them, holding his hand aloft, as he worked his jaw and decided what to say. “You wanted sex. With a girl. I’m giving you sex with a girl.”
Warm breath blew against his ear, and Joe closed his eyes.
“I don’t want to fuck a pregnant girl.” Devin kept his voice low, even though the floor was deserted except for them. “That’s wrong.”
Wriggling his shoulders, Joe freed himself from Devin’s grasp but didn’t turn around. The night before, he’d cajoled Devin into admitting he was a virgin, and he knew the big guy was embarrassed to even talk about sexual matters. Turning around would make the conversation harder for both of them.
“You need experience before you work with clients. You don’t want it to be with me. I don’t care one way or the other, but if it’s not me, our options are limited. There’s no one else available.”
“She’s pregnant.”
“That makes it better. You can’t knock her up. She has her own room, so it’s private, which is good if you get performance anxiety or something.”
Devin paused, and Joe took that as consent. He’d taken a step forward when Devin clasped his shoulders this time, holding him still. For a guy who hadn’t wanted to be touched, he’d sure gotten handsy over the last two weeks.
“Her boyfriend will kill me.”
“He’s a sweetheart. Zeke understands that this is what Ebony does for the company since she can’t go on runs now that clients can see she’s pregnant. He’s not going to get mad.”
“Joe…”
The whining note in Devin’s voice made Joe laugh. He turned around after all and patted Devin’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be nervous.”
“Can’t I do it in our room with Roxy or somebody?”
“No one has sex in my bed unless it’s with me.” Joe didn’t have many hard and fast rules, but that was one of them.
“You said it’s our bed, not just yours,” Devin grumbled.
Joe ignored him. “Trig is possessive. He’d kill you, nice guy or not.”
“Then Dottie or Aubrey. They’re kind of cute. I like Dottie’s little freckles on her face.”
“You’re stalling. They’re lesbians. They don’t want to have sex with you.”
Devin threw his hands in the air. “Why does it matter who they want to have sex with but it doesn’t matter who I want to have sex with?”
The whole conversation was pointless. Joe shouldn’t have let himself get dragged into the argument in the first place. The sex had to happen, and it had to be soon. They were at the end of their two-week training period. With what he hoped was a patient smile, he put his hands on Devin’s shoulders and smoothed his way down those long, muscular arms, applying enough pressure to be soothing but not enough to hurt.
“I wish it mattered, big guy. I really do. This is part of our job, and sometimes it’s just going to suck and there’s nothing I can do to fix it for you. Now, are we knocking on Ebony’s door, or are we going back to our room and taking care of it between ourselves?”
For the space of five breaths, Devin hesitated, his eyes roaming Joe’s face. Joe’s hands had made a careful arc back up to Devin’s shoulders. He dug his thumbs into the front of them, massaging the muscle.
Devin knocked Joe’s hands away. “I’m not a fag.” He pushed around Joe and rapped harder than necessary on Ebony’s door.
By the time Joe threw his head back, let out a huff of breath, and turned around, Ebony was at the door, ushering them inside.
Ebony was a pretty woman with soft, relaxed black hair and a warm smile. She’d been with Flights of Fantasy exactly as long as Joe, and he counted her as his best female friend aside from Bea. She was gentle and complacent. Hopefully she would be given the chance to raise the baby she was carrying.
“Hi Devin, Joesy.” Ebony cupped Joe’s cheek and stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips. “What brings you boys by?”
Devin’s eyes widened as he rounded on Joe. “You didn’t ask her first?”
A rare surge of temper spiked like electricity through Joe’s system. “I haven’t left your side for fourteen days. Did you want me to ask her in the cafeteria in front of you and the whole floor worth of people?”
“Sounds like you two could use a little break from one another,” Ebony said, her whole face lit with the force of her smile. She laid her head on Joe’s shoulder for a moment before squeezing his hand and stepping away. “How can I help you?”
Devin smiled at her and gestured to her belly. “How’re you feeling, Ebony?”
God, Joe had been a jerk. Between their runs, eating, the weight room, and forcing Devin to memorize maps of Austin, they hadn’t spent much time with the rest of the A-floor occupants. He’d been so focused on Devin, on what they could accomplish together, that he’d neglected everyone else, even his pregnant old friend.
“Oh, sweet thing,” Ebony said, rubbing her tummy. “Lord knows I’m ready to get this baby out of me. I’m looking forward to seeing it, but right now, I’m more looking forward to having it gone.” Her eyes were fixed on Devin, but she pointed a finger back at Joe. “And don’t you stand back there and feel guilty, Joesy, that you haven’t asked. I know you been busy.”
“I still should have checked in with you, Ebony.”
“I forgive you, baby. Now tell me what I can do for you.”
“Devin’s training period is up. He knows everything except sex.”
The glare Devin leveled at Joe was impressive — hard eyes, fighting posture, exactly the way Joe had taught him. In response, Joe scrunched his nose and sneered. Ebony was right; they needed some time apart.
Ebony’s gaze tracked from Joe to Devin and back again. “Why aren’t you taking care of that, Joesy? I mean, I don’t mind, but…”
“He—”
“I’m not a fag.”
Ebony’s head snapped like she’d been slapped. “The word is gay, little boy, and there’s nothing in the world wrong with being gay. Now, you apologize to me and Joe for using that hateful word, and I don’t want to hear that it comes out of your mouth ever again. You understand me?”
Joe and Devin gaped at Ebony, then at each other. The woman was good humor rolled into a ball of sunshine. Even Victor, that greasy scum, treated her like a princess because she was so lovable. Joe had never heard her speak sharply toward anyone.
Devin’s face fl
ushed. His voice was thick when he said, “I’m sorry, Miss Ebony. I didn’t know it was a hateful word. I thought…” He locked on Joe. “I didn’t know I was insulting you.”
Joe shrugged and fidgeted and made a show of counting the pillows on Ebony’s bed, anything to avoid Devin and his earnest gaze.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. Now you know better,” Ebony said, and Joe caught her caressing Devin’s hair before she kissed his cheek. “Scat, Joesy, so Devin and I can get to work.”
***
Joe sat on the floor outside Ebony’s door and tried not to listen to his partner learn to screw. He wasn’t interested in hearing what was happening, but he didn’t want to stray from Devin’s proximity in case something went wrong.
The sun slanted in from the few windows and illuminated his home. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been alone in this room before, and he’d never stopped to consider the place. Mattresses lined the walls, except for the corner with the sofas and the corner with the card table. Some people kept their mattresses and their belongings neat and tidy. Trig and Roxy’s bed even had a pink bedspread covering it. Trig had found it a few years ago when he was out scouting routes. The whole room had quieted to watch as he’d given it to Roxy, his face flaming and his mouth working twice as hard to spit out a few coherent words, and Roxy and Trig had gone from partners to Partners. If the world were different, those two would be married by now.
A loud moan escaped through the crack under Ebony’s door, and Joe rubbed his hand down his face. How had he missed that Devin was so isolated or sheltered or whatever that he didn’t even know he’d been insulting to gay people? God, Joe was making mistakes left and right.
The night they had been chased by the dogs, he and Devin lay in bed in the dark and Joe told Devin all about school. He talked about the classes and his teachers and what he’d learned, everything he could remember. Then Devin asked about Joe’s father, and Joe shut him down. He’d made a mistake mentioning his father in the first place, then doubled down on it by talking about Barclay, and Devin thought they were friends.
And Joe ached because he wanted Devin to be his friend.
But he had never told anyone about his father or Barclay or anything else, and he was scared that if he gave a voice to the memories, he’d get lost in the pain of them. So he was cold and distant, and Devin, whose soft questions and tentative fingers at Joe’s elbow were heavenly, had called Joe a douche and turned away.
And now Joe had a partner who hated him again, and he’d given up a partner in Bea who’d cared for him. He hadn’t loved her, not like that, but he’d underestimated how comforting it was to have someone. Would it have been so bad to let Devin in?
A door slammed, startling Joe to his feet, but it wasn’t the door to Ebony’s room. Bea stood in the main doorway, watching him. Joe cleared his throat and walked over.
“Bea.”
“Joe.”
“Where’s Victor?”
Bea refastened her ponytail. She yanked the hair tight. “He’s in the john.”
God, this was awkward. Joe was going to ask how she was, but she beat him to speech.
“Where’s your new fuck?”
“He’s with Ebony. Look, Bea, I wanted to—”
“You’re an ass, Joe. Don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you apologize and because you’ve been keeping tabs on Victor the past couple of weeks.”
He hadn’t expected her to forgive him, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t bother him this much. “I know you’re still mad, and you probably always will be, but—”
“But what, Joe?” Tears leaked from the corners of Bea’s eyes. She shoved Joe, hard. “We were partners for two years. We had each other’s backs. We fucked all the time and held each other every night. I thought you were mine.” She heaved a breath and wiped her eyes with the sides of her hands. “And then you left me and got me kicked off the A+ team because a better opportunity came along. You lied about it, too. I know Boggs didn’t make you partner with Devin.”
Surprise made Joe flinch and glance toward Ebony’s door.
“Your big blond moron didn’t tell me, you asshole. He didn’t need to. It’s written all over your lying face. Is it the sex or the money?”
“He’s not a moron,” Joe mumbled.
Bea barked out a laugh. “Oh, holy fuck, it’s the sex. What the hell’s he doing in there with Ebony then?”
Joe walked to the window and watched dust swirl in the air.
He had no answer for any of what Bea was saying, at least, none that he wanted to admit out loud. Knowing how it would hurt her, he’d tossed her to the side because Devin could make him more money. Now she hated him, and he was feeling… something… for a partner who would rather have sex with a pregnant lady than him. Feelings. God, he’d been here for five years and on the streets two years before that, and he’d rarely let feelings dictate his actions. Everything he’d done had been for survival or money. That was the way things needed to stay.
“It’s always about money, Bea. Always has been. Always will be.” The sill steadied his shaking hands. He had to finish. “I’m sorry you got hurt, but I had to grab the opportunity to partner with Devin.”
Soft, tender fingers floated through his hair. Joe wanted to lean into the touch. From behind Ebony’s door, Devin’s loud groan of release ripped at Joe’s heart. The hand in his hair clenched, and Bea shoved his head into the glass.
“I loved you, fucker,” she whispered. “Rot in hell.”
Quick footsteps away from him. The door slammed. He massaged his forehead and stared out the window until Ebony’s door opened.
He smelled Devin before he felt him. He straightened as Devin’s warm, relaxed body sagged over his back.
“I love you, man.” Devin’s sex-drunk voice dripped hot and wet in Joe’s ear. “Sorry I was such a cranky fuck. Everything’s so much better now. Mmm.”
Devin’s humming turned into a fit of giggles, and Joe shrugged and wriggled until he separated from his partner.
“Satisfied?”
“Very.” Devin’s loose smile and unfocused eyes confirmed it.
“Did you learn what to do?”
“Learned a ton.” Devin took Joe’s hand and pulled. “Can we take a nap now? ’M tired.”
Joe reversed the direction of Devin’s tugging and dragged him toward the exit. “Shower, then we have maps to go over.”
Devin blew a raspberry but straggled along behind. “You’re such a bitch, Joe. No fun at all.” He giggled again.
“I don’t get paid to be fun, Devin.”
Joe was holding the handle of the door, ready to pull, when Devin’s broad hand pressed flat on the door and blocked his way.
“I bet you were fun before,” Devin said. “You and your dad and your dog. I’m sorry they’re gone.”
Pain spiked from the knot on his forehead and made Joe’s eyes water. He nudged Devin’s hand from the door and left.
***
The band of A runners crowded in a circle around Joe as they made their way toward the corporate office. Devin felt a bit like he was a woman on the arm of a celebrity, straight out of one of his mother’s books, as the other runners vied for attention from the man to his left.
“So, Joesy, do you think we’ll get time off for Thanksgiving?” Roxy asked. Trig squeezed her neck and smiled across at Joe.
Joe shrugged. “I think maybe the day of. We’ll have to see.”
Trig and Roxy huddled tighter together and made way for Marcus and Flix to weave through the group at a run. The twins swarmed in and out and almost tripped Roxy before Joe snapped his fingers and told them to knock it off. Flix, the smaller one, the one who owed Joe a hand job that Devin knew would never be collected, stopped a foot in front of Joe and walked backward as Joe walked forward. Flix’s eager, starstruck eyes swept from Joe’s eyes to his mouth. His hands flitted playfully to Joe’s chest.
“Sorry, Joesy. Me and Marcus have so much energy, you know.
We keep going and going and going and—”
Zeke’s big hand pulled Flix off to the side. “Let the man breathe, little one.” He winked at Joe.
“How’s Ebony this morning, Zeke?” Joe asked as Devin elbowed him in the ribs over Flix’s enthusiasm. Joe elbowed Devin back. “I was surprised she missed breakfast.”
Zeke glanced at Devin. “She’s having some contractions. I’m gonna ask Boggs if I can take the afternoon off, maybe send one of the B guys in my place, so I can be with her.”
“She seemed fine yesterday,” Devin said.
“Sex loosens things up. It can bring on labor,” Zeke told him, and Devin was grateful for Joe in between them. Zeke wasn’t acting threatening or anything, but Devin still felt awkward about sleeping with the guy’s girlfriend, even if it was for learning purposes.
Devin was saved from having to think of some sort of reply by raised voices in the rear of the group.
“Give it up, Victor. It’s not happening.”
“That’s not what you said last night, sweetness.” Victor’s creepy oily voice made Devin’s skin crawl. Bea was acting like a bitch to Joe and she hated Devin on principle, but she still shouldn’t have to spend time with such a slimeball.
Joe stopped in the middle of the street, and Flix ran into him. He nudged Flix to the side, opening a clear line of sight between himself and Victor. Devin pressed his hand into Joe’s back and fisted his t-shirt.
“We talked, Victor,” Joe said. “You have a professional relationship with Bea. Behave.”
Victor walked right up to Joe and bumped him, chest to chest, but Joe stood his ground. No one spoke. Even Marcus and Flix had stopped moving.
Victor’s fists clenched, and his lips curled into a sneer. “Nobody tells me what to do.”
Joe arched an eyebrow. “I already have.”
Devin tightened his grip on Joe’s shirt. The shirt rose, and the cool metal barrel of a gun pressed into Devin’s wrist. He gasped, and Joe glanced in his direction before returning his attention to Victor.
