by Quil Carter
“Oh, looks like I’m going to lap you again.” Reaver gave me a cocky smirk. He seemed to be having fun winning every single round, so I had kept letting him win. “I don’t think a bullet can help you now. You can try though, just to make my win a little sweeter.”
I scowled at him, he smiled back. I loved seeing him smile, and I wasn’t a competitive person at all, but I was starting to get a bit done with his attitude. I was very quickly seeing that winning meant a lot to him; he sure didn’t hide his gloating.
I guess he was probably used to playing with Reno. The more I thought of that the more it made sense. I bet they had wild times in here drinking, taking drugs, and playing video games. Men their age did that a lot back before the Fallocaust.
“Damn, look at that time score. I think that’s a record,” Reaver said proudly after another win. I flexed my hand on the controller.
“It’s alright, you’ll get better,” Reaver assured. He seemed to think saying this negated his competitive attitude during every race.
“Not even Reno can beat me, I’m just that good,” he proclaimed proudly.
I was silent, watching as he picked the next race. Against my more mature judgement, I just had to knock him down a few pegs. He was just being a bit too smug.
The next round – I mopped the floor with him.
After I beat him by about six seconds, I put the controller down. I couldn’t help it; I was grinning so wide the stitches in my lips hurt.
Reaver was staring at me, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. I glanced innocently at the ceiling.
“You… I underestimated you, that was good,” he said.
My heart soared and I grinned more.
“I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, you’re not as innocent as you come across,” Reaver said. “But at least you’ll be competition now. Did you have to pretend to suck for so long?”
“It made you happy,” I said a bit shyly. I stretched on the chair; my body had stiffened after playing the video game for so long.
“It’s getting pretty late, are you getting tired?” Reaver asked before yawning. As soon as he said it, the fatigue hit me. It had been a long day, and even with the nap I felt my energy draining out of me.
I nodded. “A little yeah.”
We both seemed to pause at the same time, both probably confronted with the same awkward problem.
Where was I going to sleep?
I had taken a nap with Reaver on his couch and he didn’t seem to mind me being near him. But he was also used to being alone; I didn’t want to be a bother to him. I really didn’t want to be alone though. I hoped I could just sleep on the couch. I didn’t want him to send me home.
My house seemed terrifying right now; anything outside of Reaver’s fortified den seemed terrifying. What if the legionaries came to Aras looking for me?
Reaver took a deep breath; he seemed just as conflicted as me over what to do.
“Okay, come with me,” he said finally. I watched him head towards his bedroom. He turned on a bluelamp and a few moments later, turned the dial on the generator.
“If it gets too cold, wake me up. I have lots of blankets,” Reaver said. I sighed with relief. He wasn’t kicking me out.
I wondered if we would be sleeping in his bed together. The thought was… just wonderful. I would be so lucky if he wanted to sleep next to me.
“If you got to take a piss the toilet works, but you need to fill the bucket and flush it manually so wait until morning.”
I nodded. He started to take his boots off and I did as well. I sat down on his bed and got in under the blankets.
I tried to hide my disappointment when he laid a blanket down on the floor beside his bed. He grabbed a pillow and turned off the bluelamp. That was the last I saw of him, but I heard him get under the blanket.
I know it was too soon for us to sleep in the same bed – we weren’t even together or anything, but I still felt disappointed. I liked being so close to him.
“Good night, Reaver,” I whispered, edging myself to the side of the bed so I could be as close as I could.
“Good night, Killian.” I heard him say back. I brought the blankets to my chin and looked up at the almost pitch black ceiling; a few moments later I closed my eyes.
“Killian? Killian?” I felt something nudge me. I moaned and rolled over. I opened my eyes to see Reaver looking at me. He was smiling.
He was still wearing his damaged shirt and cargo pants – he must have slept in them. Well, I had slept in my clothes too.
“Mmm.” I smiled and stretched. My stiff, bruised body gave a jolt of pain. I winced. “How long have you been awake?”
Reaver threw my boots onto the bed. I looked at them sleepily, wondering if this was my eviction notice. “About three hours I think.”
I sat up in bed and looked around, though, without any windows, I had no idea what time it was. “How long have I been sleeping for?” I started putting my boots on.
“It’s mid-morning, you slept a lot. I don’t really sleep well though, I usually log in about four to five hours a night.”
“Wow,” I said. I never knew he had trouble sleeping; I wonder if he had nightmares like I did? “You should have woken me up.”
“Well, I was busy… I have something to show you.” Reaver’s face held a smile that looked almost coy.
So I wasn’t being evicted. We were going somewhere.
I was a bit intrigued that he sounded excited, or what Reaver’s suppressed version of excitement was. I was a bit antsy about leaving his den, I felt so safe in here, but I was assuming that what he wanted to show me was in Aras.
“What is it?” I asked carefully, though my chest was vibrating with anticipation.
Reaver smile turned from coy to mischievous. He shrugged playfully and started to crawl up the hatch. I followed behind him.
He locked the shed door behind us and we started walking further southwest of his house, past a stretch of yellow grass and fallen chain-link fences and through debris-strewn yards. It was one of the most deserted areas in Aras, but I had done my fair share of exploring.
I knew I was safe, but I couldn’t help myself from scanning every nook and cranny. I knew Reaver would know if someone was out there, but, well, I had to be sure. It would put my own mind at ease.
As we walked on, through the boarded up homes, I noticed the smell of burning. I could also see faint wisps of smoke rising from the roofs of the houses before disintegrating into the white sky above us.
Reaver had a fire going down there? But why? He could have made a fire here if he wanted to, I was thoroughly confused. I wanted to ask but I knew I would know soon.
I glanced over at Reaver’s face; he looked rather pleased with himself. I could see the corners of his mouth rising slightly.
We approached a hollowed out house that was almost completely taken over by piles of refuse and debris, except for a small path leading to an open door frame. Reaver took me inside and led me to the backyard. In the yard, which was almost entirely enclosed with stacks of crumbling concrete and house remains, there was a giant loader from a backhoe; underneath it was dug out and a fire was burning.
“I… I know you like soap, and being clean and all that,” Reaver said behind me. “So, well, I thought since we are both caked with dirt and blood, we could, you know, bathe in some warm water and soapy crap.”
I lunged into Reaver’s arms and hugged him. No one had ever done something so nice for me, so thoughtful. This must have taken him hours to set up. He did this for me… damn, I was so lucky.
“Thank you!” I squeezed him tight. Reaver winced and I quickly loosened my grip. “Sorry, sorry,” I stammered, wiping my eyes.
Reaver rubbed his back, still giving me a crooked grin. “No, it’s all that shrapnel you warned me about. You’re going to have a big job picking it all out.”
Then he started to take his shirt off. So did I, though I couldn’t help but stare a bit at his chest and stomach, it
was flat and rock hard. I could see every ab and curve on his body.
I swallowed as my mouth went dry.
He had a pretty nice body.
Reaver stripped down to his underwear and threw his shirt onto the fire. I watched, probably a bit too intently, as he walked up to the loader. He hopped up onto a slab of concrete and then swung himself into it. He gasped.
“Fuck, that’s hot!” he said, looking down at me. “I broke into your house, if you could even call opening the front door breaking in. I got you some clothes and some of your soapy things.” He motioned towards a basket that I quickly realized was full of my stuff. He had been busy. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to go home.
I rooted through the basket and chose a bottle of Gillette body wash. That would be good enough.
“I decided not to bring the lilac shit, what the hell is a lilac? Whatever it is, it stinks,” Reaver remarked.
I laughed and took off the rest of my clothes, all the way down to my underwear. It didn’t take me long to feel completely exposed and self-conscious. My body was scrawny and soft unlike his, so I quickly started walking up the concrete slab. I swung myself into the water.
Damn it was hot! I gasped too, feeling my skin burn though it was a good burn. Reaver smiled and handed me a rag. “I stole your sponge too, it has a scratchy end. I thought that might help with the caked-on shit.”
“This water is probably going to be black by the time we’re done. I don’t think I can be classified as blond anymore.”
Reaver grabbed the soap bottle that was floating around in the hot water. He squeezed a good amount onto his head and rubbed it in. I beamed as he closed his eyes, knowing he couldn’t see me. I was looking forward to seeing what he looked like all sparkly clean.
My smile faded though as I saw his jaw tighten, it looked like he was in pain.
“Right… rubber bullets,” Reaver said, clenching his teeth a bit. He started to wash his hair quickly.
“Rubber bullets?” I said confused. I didn’t remember that happening when he was rescuing me.
Reaver nodded, scratching an area that was quickly turning pink from the suds and blood. “I got shot three times in the head with rubber bullets. I was out for a few hours.”
My mouth dropped open. I hadn’t heard anything about what had happened before he had rescued me. Was this how he got his concussion? Did the legionaries who kidnapped me shoot him? They had assault rifles though but I didn’t know they had rubber bullet guns.
Reaver dunked his head under the water. As he rose up I could see two cuts in his scalp, and a now very noticeable one on his forehead. He’d had so much dried blood and dirt on him that I’d had no idea what was an injury and what wasn’t.
I found myself almost wanting to reach out to touch his wounds. I had caused all of them; I felt responsible.
I looked at his pale body. Now that the water was washing everything away, I could see his injuries. His chest and stomach seemed fine since he had been shielding me. But his back and his neck…
“Doesn’t the water hurt the burns on your back?” I asked, after we had been scrubbing ourselves off for almost half an hour. The water had really burned the wounds on my face. The only damage to the rest of my body was bruising, a really sore throat and an aching wrist.
Reaver shrugged. His black hair was stuck to his forehead, I kind of liked how it looked. Needless to say, even with everything else going on, I couldn’t help but be captivated with his body. He was perfect in every way.
“A bit, but I’ve had worse. I have a high tolerance for pain,” he said. I dunked my head into the water, trying to wash the soap off.
I caught Reaver watching me, as I brushed my hair off my face. “It feels so nice to be clean.” I flicked my hair back.
“It does,” Reaver said, his black eyes fixed on me. When he saw I had noticed, he quickly turned his gaze away, glancing behind his shoulder.
“So, I brought tweezers,” he said hurriedly. I blushed a bit, and busied myself scrubbing another layer of dirt off my arm.
“Oh, good,” I said feeling the heat rise up my neck to my face. I gently grabbed the tweezers from him so they didn’t drop into the murky water below. I would never find them again if they did.
“Better you than Dr. Pain. I swear he deliberately digs around just to get back at me.”
I smiled and held up the rusty tweezers and went to work. I managed to get all of the shrapnel out of his back. There thankfully wasn’t as much as I had feared, only several large pieces and a few smaller ones. I had hoped that anymore would have been flushed out by the hot water.
“I think I’m done,” I said, brushing my hands over the cleaned wounds. “We can disinfect everything when we get back to your place. How does that feel?”
“Feels better.” Reaver stretched and flexed his back; I could see his shoulder muscles clench. “I can’t feel the little pieces anymore. Hopefully I can lay down on my back tonight.”
I stared a bit too long at him as he stretched; it wasn’t a secret that I was really attracted to him. It was embarrassing how turned on I was. I refused to even let my mind go there. Too soon! And not now, my god, I was in my underwear.
With Reaver. I was in my underwear, with Reaver… in this giant tub. The horrible thing was, I was the only one of us that was thinking like that. Though I had caught him staring at me…
I shook the water off my hair, and at the same time tried to shake those embarrassing thoughts from my head. He was doing a nice thing for me, why did my sick mind have to sexualize it?
With a small thanks that the water was now murky and he couldn’t see certain parts of me, I pushed it out of my mind. Though the seed was planted. I was an adult male after all… the thought of things that might eventually come was intriguing.
Terrifying, but intriguing.
After we were clean and shiny, we dried ourselves off and started for home. Reaver had grabbed whatever clothes he could find in my drawer but he had done a good job. He had even got me clean socks, underwear and one of my old jackets.
“I feel like a million bucks.” I smiled gratefully at Reaver as we walked down the road. I did feel a world better, especially after finally getting clean. It was like everything else had washed away with the dirt. And what remained I just tried to push down with the happiness I felt in finally being Reaver’s friend.
“You definitely look better, you really feel better?” Reaver asked. He was brushing his dark hair back with a comb, leaving strands to fall over the left side of his face. Those almost black wisps of wet bangs framed his face perfectly.
I blushed at the compliment and stared at my feet; I couldn’t help but break into a small smile. “You’re worse off than I am, mister.”
“Well –” Reaver handed me the comb, “– you have more… mental issues.”
I looked at him flatly, my smile fading. “Mental…issues?”
I watched as his face changed. Once again he had no idea he had said something offensive. I was learning to remind myself of his bluntness. I wasn’t used to being with someone so, well, unfiltered. I suppose it was nice though, at least I knew he was being honest.
“Well… I mean, what happened to you was well… you weren’t injured physically just… you had to deal with more traumatizing stuff.”
I understood and I wasn’t cross, I just wished he had worded it better. I’d had a few things happen to me which made me think I might be crazy. Night terrors mostly. I think all wasters had something wrong with them though. I mean, if mental shit didn’t do it, what radiation the chips didn’t pick up probably did.
“Yeah, I did,” I said quietly. I shuddered, and not from the cold either. Being busy had been helping me not think about it. Every time I did though, I felt a great deal of anxiety. I hoped I didn’t just crack at some point.
I jumped a little bit when Reaver’s handheld came to life. It sounded like Greyson.
“Shadow Cat, Shadow Cat,” he called, using Reaver’s co
de name. Reaver brought the radio up to his mouth.
“Yessum,” Reaver said into it. He turned the radio down and held it up to his ear.
“Come to our house, we want to go over a few things with you and the boy,” Greyson said.
“Roger, we’re on the road right now. We’ll swing by.” Reaver clipped the radio back onto his belt.
“What do you think they’re going to say?” I asked. I hoped no legionary had been by yet looking for me. I didn’t know if they would know where to look, it depended on if the legionaries were alive and learned I escaped. It could be anything.
Chapter 15
Reaver
I shrugged. “Probably work stuff, make sure you’re okay.”
I led Killian through a row of boarded up houses, taking him down a trail I had been using for years. Though I didn’t know if it would qualify as a trail, it was just a series of alleyways, parking lots and backyards that I skirted through. The quickest way to Greyson and Leo’s house from my area of west Aras.
“Well, well… don’t you guys look handsome today.” Leo’s smile greeted us on the porch. He motioned us into their two-storey home, my childhood home. “How long did it take you two to scrub that crap off?”
“I heated up the loader tub, the water was pretty dark when it was time to drain it,” I replied. I held the rust-streaked metal door open for Killian.
Leo and Greyson had an impressive home, full of lots of pre-Fallocaust artifacts. I had spent most of my youth living here and had added to their large collection. Their house was wired for electricity like mine, and had three bedrooms and nice wooden furniture. Their area rugs and couches were all clean, barely any stains at all. Mine were, well, let’s just say my purple rug wasn’t that purple anymore.
“What’s that?” Killian nudged me, pointing towards a large machine with a glass top.
“That’s a pinball machine,” I explained. I had actually scavenged and repaired that for them years back. It had taken Reno’s quad and a wagon to get that fucker here and another three months to learn how to repair the memory board. I would have kept it myself but I had already walled off my den and it wouldn’t fit through my tunnel.
