Fire and Fog

by Andrew Grey

  “Yeah? What will they want, ’cause everyone wants something and no one does shit for nothing.” The skepticism rolled off him as he turned away.

  Dwayne tightened his hands on the wheel. “First, clean up your mouth, and second, my friends are cops who’ve seen enough bad stuff that they try to help those they can. They aren’t going to want anything from you other than you not acting like a dick. Are you starting to see a theme here?” He tightened his hands on the wheel.

  “Fine. I’ll pretend you’re my mother and put on my best manners, waiting for when you, like everyone else, decide I’m not worth anything.” Robin turned away, looking out the window as lights passed by.

  Dwayne didn’t have an argument for him. He couldn’t change Robin’s past, and though he’d do his best to try to help him, Dwayne wasn’t sure what he could do. “Take things one day at a time.” That was what the counselor had told him after all hell had broken loose at home. It had been really helpful when the shit kept getting deeper and deeper by the day, with no end in sight.

  “Just try a little gratitude and less snark. It isn’t going to hurt you, is it?”

  “No.” The answer was short but without the accompanying commentary, so maybe that was an improvement.

  The tires hummed as he continued down the freeway. It took a good twenty minutes to get out to the Carlisle area, then off at his exit and through the traffic lights to the main intersection of town. Dwayne made the partial trip around the block to his parking space. It was late and he was tired, but he needed to get Robin settled.

  “Let’s get your things,” he said, popping open the trunk. He grabbed a box and left the other one for Robin. “You can leave the bedroll. You won’t need it, and it’ll be fine in the trunk for now.” He closed the lid and led Robin around the block to the front of the building. He unlocked the door and climbed the stairs, listening to the heavy trudges of Robin’s feet. For God’s sake, he wasn’t leading him to the gallows.

  “Where do you want my stuff?” He indicated the box he held.

  “Set it by the side of the sofa. I’ll get you some blankets. The bathroom is right in there, and I’ll see if I can find some things for you to use if you need them.”

  “I got stuff,” Robin said, putting his box on top of the one Dwayne had already set down.

  Dwayne went to his room and found his extra sheets and a blanket and a pillow, then took them to the living room and set them on one end of the tartan plaid sofa. “I’ll get you a bottle of water and then I need to go to bed.”

  Robin looked so confused as he stood and stared at the sofa and then back at Dwayne, as though he really couldn’t believe that Dwayne didn’t want something from him.

  Dwayne got the water and handed it to him. “Just get some rest, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  Robin nodded but seemed lost.

  Dwayne made up the sofa and finally left the room, went to his bedroom, and closed the door. He undressed and pulled on clean boxers and a T-shirt. Then he used the bathroom and returned to the bedroom to get into bed. He listened to the sofa springs squeak a little in his otherwise quiet apartment. Dwayne tried to imagine what Robin was doing, and then footsteps sounded outside. The door to the bathroom closed, and Dwayne shut his eyes. He was nervous as hell. Dwayne had actually brought a near stranger home to his apartment and was letting the guy sleep on his sofa. Good Lord, had he completely lost his mind?

  “Good night, Dwayne,” Robin said once the bathroom door opened again. Then soft footfalls headed to the living room, the light switched off, and the sofa springs squeaked again.

  Dwayne sighed and tried to go to sleep. The problem was, every time his mind started drifting off, he saw images of blue eyes and blond hair, and Robin swinging his backside as he danced. He knew the dancing part was all his imagination, but the danged thing kept him up well into the night.

  Chapter Two

  ROBIN LAY still for a long time. His life had gone to hell, and he kept descending further and further by the day. Now he was homeless, in essence, lying on a surprisingly comfortable sofa in a stranger’s living room, and wondering just when the next shoe was going to drop. He could see all the way into the dining area and kitchen from where he lay and it seemed rather homey and brought his predicament into focus.

  He jumped when water ran, wondered if Dwayne was up, but it was somewhere else in the building.

  If he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t have minded so much if Dwayne had been interested. Robin had to admit Dwayne was hot, and when Robin closed his eyes, his mind did an efficient job of pulling away Dwayne’s club clothes and filling in all the blanks.

  Eventually Robin slept, then woke with a start at the clink of dishes. The night had been warm and he’d pushed the blankets off. He rolled over and wished he hadn’t, because after a night with images of Dwayne running through his head, jumbled up with the other things that had happened to him, he was as hard as a rock and completely confused. Still, he didn’t want to be flashing Dwayne.

  “Did you sleep okay?” Dwayne asked as the scent of coffee filled the apartment, calling to Robin like a siren of the morning.

  “Yes. Thanks.” His arousal went down as his reality sank in hard. There was nothing for him to get excited about.

  “I’ll have breakfast ready in ten minutes or so. Go on and get cleaned up if you want.” Dwayne seemed to watch him for longer than necessary before turning away to get out some pans. Robin took the opportunity to escape, hurried to the bathroom, closed the door, and paused to breathe once he was safely inside.

  He gasped and leaned against the door as everything from the past few months pressed down on him like a lead weight. What the hell was going to happen to him now? He’d failed at everything. Hell, he couldn’t even hustle properly and got picked up by a cop his first time out. He had no home, a few bills in his pocket, and didn’t know where his next paycheck was coming from.

  Robin slid down the door and ended up scrunched at the base of it in a heap, unwilling and unable to move. He knew he had to get up and somehow do what he needed to leave this room before Dwayne thought something was wrong and came looking for him. Falling to pieces was one thing, but someone seeing him do it was completely different. He needed to be strong so no one thought they could take advantage of him.

  Using the door handle, he pulled himself to his feet, then ran water and splashed it on his face. He’d forgotten to get his toothbrush and stuff before he’d made his escape, so he screwed up his courage, left the bathroom, and returned to the living room, where he opened the top box and found what he needed in a CVS bag. He also grabbed some cleanish clothes and then raced back to the bathroom as everything boiled to the surface. He tamped it down and managed to get behind a closed door one more time, stared at himself in the mirror, and tried to see the part of him that had fucked everything up so badly. Maybe he did have loser written on his forehead. Robin actually checked. He couldn’t see anything, but there had to be something, because he’d sure drawn the loser stick in life.

  “Robin, breakfast in a few minutes,” Dwayne called cheerfully.

  Robin groaned, wondering if he could fake pleasant this morning. Then he turned to the mirror once more, wiping his eyes. He brushed his teeth and dressed quickly. His pants hung on his hips because of the weight he’d lost. He tucked in his shirt and left the room.

  Dwayne placed two loaded plates on the tiny oval table near the kitchen and poured two glasses of orange juice. “You’re just in time.”

  “Thanks.” Robin even mustered a smile as he sat. His stomach rumbled, but he waited for Dwayne to join him before digging into the eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast with relish. “Look,” he said with his mouth half-full, “I really appreciate everything you did for me and all, but I should get out of your hair.” Not that he had a clue where he was going to go.

  Dwayne set down his fork. “I told you we’d figure some things out, and we will. I called some friends, and they’ll be here in an hou
r.”

  “There isn’t anything that can be done for me.” Robin swallowed and took another bite. His stomach cramped at first, but then he was ravenous and unable to stop eating. “I’m not worth it.” As he said the words, a spike of grief jabbed him in the belly. “I’m just not.”

  “That’s enough of that.” Strong hands rested on his shoulders.

  Robin tensed, not even realizing Dwayne had moved. The touch was gentle, caring, not rough or harsh the way he’d expected.

  “Of course you’re worth it.” Dwayne leaned closer, his breath on Robin’s skin. He tingled where Dwayne touched him, the skin heating on its own, coming alive. This was weird and crazy. He wanted Dwayne to touch him and even hold him.

  He turned deliberately, let his gaze travel upward, and his body followed, the chair pushing along the tile floor as he stood. “Dwayne… I can’t….”

  Before he could finish his disjointed thought, Dwayne hugged him gently, cradling his body with one strong arm and running his other hand softly through his hair. It had been so long since he’d been comforted he barely recognized the intention. At first his body reacted with heat, tension, and intensity, his pants tightening. But Dwayne made no move to act on it, and the feeling passed just as quickly as it rose. The need for comfort took over, and he held Dwayne in return, burying his face against him.

  He inhaled and closed his eyes, warmth and care mixing with Downy and sweat and soap, scents that reinforced the masculine strength holding him. “What am I going to do?”

  “First thing, you need to finish your breakfast, and second, you need to stop running. I know you’re hurt, but the dashing about will get you nowhere.”

  Robin pulled his head away, rubbing his eyes. “I’m standing here with you.”

  Dwayne groaned softly. “Sounds like you’re constantly on the go. Your parents hurt you and you ran. That guy last night, the landlord…. You’re doing it all the time.”

  “They tried to hurt me.”

  “Yes, they did. But when you’re running, you’re trying to get away from something so badly that you often don’t understand where you’re going. You ended up renting a room from a thief and nearly got yourself seriously hurt by a guy who wanted more than you were willing to give.”

  “So what are you saying?” Robin pulled away and tried to straighten himself out, instantly missing the warmth but not wanting to let Dwayne know.

  “That you need to take a breath and think about what you want instead of just reacting.” Dwayne took a step back. “Finish your breakfast, and when my friends get here in a little while, we can see what they can do to help.”

  A smartass comment reached the tip of his tongue. He even opened his mouth but stopped before the words were said. He needed help. Obviously he wasn’t able to manage his own life without help.

  “Okay.” He turned back to the table and his plate of food. “Don’t you need to work or something?”

  “I’m on shift later today. I’m not supposed to have to work, but I took an extra shift for one of the guys who wanted to take his partner to the Poconos for the weekend.”

  Robin ate quietly, knowing his time here was just measured in hours. Dwayne would ask his friends what they could do to help him. Put on a show, but of course there was nothing anyone could do. And when Dwayne needed to go to work, Robin would be out on his butt, hauling his boxes down the street until someone decided they wanted his stuff, and then he’d have nothing.

  He forced himself to eat, even though his appetite had flown the coop, because he didn’t know when he’d eat next. Once his plate was clean, he took the dishes to the sink and returned to the sofa. He wanted to crawl back under the mussed-up blankets, but there was no getting away from the terrible situation he was in. As much as he wanted to hide, Robin folded up the blankets and sheets and set them in a neat pile at the end of the sofa.

  “Is there a washing machine?” Robin asked tentatively.

  “Yes. That’s one of the nice things about this apartment—it came with its own laundry.” Dwayne opened what looked like a closet door, which really hid an old stacked washer and dryer. “Get what you have that’s dirty, and we can wash them.” Dwayne got out the laundry soap, and Robin collected the dirtiest of his clothes together. Dwayne loaded them into the machine, added the soap, and started it. Robin returned to the far end of the sofa and sat, trying to make himself appear as small and unobtrusive as possible. It didn’t work.

  Dwayne came over, moved the bedding to the center of the sofa, and sat down on the other side of it. “What happened after your stepfather kicked you out?”

  “We lived in Mechanicsburg, and no one there would have anything to do with me. I didn’t have a car, but my friend Gavin did, so I called him. He came to get me, and when I told him what happened, he looked at me as though I’d grown a third head.”

  “He didn’t know you were gay?”

  Robin groaned softly. “He did. But I guess as long as we didn’t talk about it, we were okay. Now that things were out in the open, he was worried that if he was my friend, people would think he was gay too. The moron.” Robin shook his head. “Anyway, he agreed to help me get away. I had this job offer in town, because there was nothing at home, so I figured I’d go where the money was.”

  “How long were you living in that house?” Dwayne asked.

  “Almost six weeks. It was a shit pile, but I had my own room and could use the kitchen and stuff. The other people were okay. They were in the same boat as me, trying to figure out how they were going to hold things together. Then everything fell apart.”

  “And you don’t have any other family?” Dwayne asked.

  “I have a sister, Gretchen. She’s six years older than I am, a single mother, and lives in Maryland. I called her and she sympathized with me, but she isn’t in a position to give me a place to live, and I know she’s struggling to make a life for herself and Charlie, who’s four.” Everything was a mess, and he was most definitely on his own.

  Robin could feel that Dwayne had more questions, but a knock from below interrupted, and Dwayne stood and went down the stairs to let in whoever was at the door. Robin tensed as multiple sets of footsteps echoed on the stairs.

  Jesus. A guy as huge as they came followed Dwayne. He had a scar on his face but wasn’t really unattractive. The scar was a little off-putting for a second until Robin focused on his sheer size.

  “This is Red and his partner, Terry.”

  Robin looked at the smaller man, scrunching his eyebrows. “Don’t I know you?”

  “He’s Terry Baumgartner.”

  “The guy from the Olympics?” Robin smiled, excited. “I watched with my mom when you won your medal.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the memory that he was motherless slammed into him again.

  “That’s me.” Terry smiled and came closer to shake Robin’s hand. “So what’s going on?” He turned to Dwayne and then back to Robin. “Dwayne said you needed some help.”

  Dwayne filled them in on last night’s events, though he omitted the details about what kind of trouble he’d gotten into for now.

  Red shook his head. “Let me guess—you stepped in to help him.” The huge man rolled his eyes, and Terry patted him on the shoulder.

  “If you remember, you did some helping for me.” Terry caressed Red’s shoulder once, but Red moved away as though there was tension between them. Terry either didn’t notice or pretended not to. “So what happened?”

  Robin didn’t answer and turned to Dwayne. He wasn’t up to telling the entire story again.

  “To make matters short and sweet, his parents found out he is gay, and his stepdad is a douche. I suspect his mother is spineless as well. Robin had a job for a while and a place to live. He lost the job.” Dwayne turned to him. “He hasn’t told me what exactly happened there yet.”

  Robin groaned under his breath. Yeah, he wasn’t really looking forward to talking about that mess.

  “I see.” Red rolled his eyes.


  “He had a place to live, but it turned out to be an illegal squatting situation.”

  Red groaned. “Another one of those? We busted up two of those here in town last week. We know there are more, but we can’t seem to catch the scammers. At least not yet.”

  “Yup,” Dwayne agreed. “No paper trail, and everything was in cash. When the owner finds out, they usually have a mess to clean up, and the tenants are out on the street.”

  Robin cleared his throat. He felt enough like an idiot; he didn’t need his stupid decisions rehashed in front of him.

  “It’s all right,” Terry said, coming closer. “In their own cop way, they’re telling you that you aren’t alone.” He turned to the other two, hands on his hips. “Let’s get back to the issue at hand instead of discussing the social problems of Carlisle.” Terry huffed. “I think the first thing we need to do is work on a job of some kind.”

  “Aren’t you looking for people at the Y?” Red asked, then turned to Robin. “Terry’s the pool supervisor there, and he’s been training their swim team for a while.”

  “Can you swim?” Terry asked.

  “Yeah. I’m a strong swimmer, and I worked as a lifeguard at a religious summer camp in high school,” Robin said, feeling a spark of hope bloom in his chest.

  Terry grinned. “Are you still certified?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t done anything with it in a couple of years.” The hope that had sprung forward began to fade. “It was when I was sixteen.”

  “But not since.” Terry was still smiling even as Robin nodded. “Okay. We can get you recertified. There would be records, and if we can get a copy of them, we can retest you here. I have an opening for a lifeguard at the pool. So as long as everything checks out….”