by Riley Parks
Regardless, he made his way out of his apartment building and headed toward the corner Evan had specified. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see, but from the texts, he was thinking that it would most likely be something that would piss him the fuck off.
Every time Tammy had done annoying shit, he’d become increasingly checked out, until only the slightest sliver of obligation tied him to her. With Evan, it was different. The redhead was tough to handle, but even on his worst days, Jackson felt more compelled to pull him in closer rather than push him away, thinking that those were the times he had to care for him more.
Loving Evan was both the easiest and hardest thing Jackson had ever done.
Lighting up a cigarette, he pulled the nicotine into his lungs and exhaled into the damp morning air. Thick clouds rested one on top of the other, a stratified gradient of grays. It seemed that the sky was going to open up at any moment to dump a deluge of rain on the tired town, and he wished he was in bed with Evan when it did. Instead, he was standing on the corner of Grant and St. Lawrence, face-to-face with a blue koala bear that was hugging a can of spray paint.
He should have been livid that a Klown Killerz had the audacity to spray over the DDz’ logo on one of their most lucrative corners. He should have been concerned by how impulsive his boyfriend was. He should have been aggravated that Evan had pulled him out of bed to look at a stupid koala bear, but Jack wasn’t any of those things. He was mostly worried about what could have happened if any of his boys had been out last night and saw his artist at work.
He shook his head and let out a light laugh, feeling his cheeks warm when he realized that the image reflected how Evan saw him: attached and loving. The neediness of the hold was palpable. He wondered how the redhead so easily saw through him, felt his love even when he wasn’t sure how to properly show it. He was glad he did.
Jackson (9:23am): ur fucking nuts
Evan (9:25am): u want my nuts
Jackson (9:25am): that 2
Evan (9:26am): could’ve had them on ur face last night
Evan (9:26am): would’ve fucked that hot mouth but u didn’t answer
Jackson (9:27am): Fell asleep man 4got 2 turn ringer on
Evan (9:28am): that right?
Jackson (9:28am): wasn’t ignoring u
Jackson (9:30am): missed ya
Jackson (9:30am): don’t like waking up without u
Evan (9:31am): Thought it was cause of what I said
Jackson (9:32am): no needed to hear that
Evan (9:33am): yeah?
Jackson (9:33am): yeah come over in an hour. Got something 4 u.
Evan (9:34am): it’s daytime
Jackson (9:34am): I’m outside looking at a fucking koala know it’s daytime. Come over.
Evan (9:35am): u sure?
Jackson (9:35am): said it didn’t I?
Evan (9:36am): alright c u soon
Jackson snapped a quick picture of Evan’s painting and send it off to Lyle.
Jackson (9:38am): on Grant & St. Lawrence tell them 2 cover it 2night
Lyle (9:39am): KKz? A fucking blue koala?
Jackson (9:40am): probably just some kid
Jackson (9:40am): KKz are pussies but I don’t think they rep koalas
Lyle (9:41): prob right lol
He slid his phone back into his pocket, making sure not to delete the picture. By tomorrow the tag would be gone, sprayed over with a black coffin. As stupid as it was, he wanted to keep it because it mattered to Evan, and that mattered to him. Honestly? Jack thought the whole thing was pretty sweet, and that convinced him that he was losing his fucking mind.
It was easier not to think about all the dangerous shit they did, as if keeping it out of his mind would make it so it didn’t exist, but he knew he couldn’t wish away the truth. If he could he would’ve erased their whole situation and all the surrounding bullshit, just leaving them; no colors. If a DD would’ve seen Evan on their corner with a can of blue spray paint and a matching beanie, they would’ve painted the sidewalk red with his blood.
Jackson had lost plenty of people and had taken even more, but the thought of living his life without Evan was too much to bear.
Unsure when he lost himself, when a random park fuck had taken over his life and changed everything, Jack knew his priorities were different now. He didn’t worry as much about the gang, or his loyalty to them. He used to be ride or die Demonz. Every decision he made was based on the greater good of the gang. Now, he only wanted to ride with Evan.
Fuck, he was dying to ride him. He felt himself grow hard at the thought, wondering when he’d stop having such an immediate physical reaction to thoughts of his boyfriend.
He adjusted himself and started on his way to meet his dealer on Halstead, knowing that he could get Evan what he needed. The transaction didn’t take long, but by the time he was done the downpour had begun. He kept his head down and pulled his hat down low as he walked the few blocks home. He got back to his apartment building just as Evan was opening the door to the lobby.
They didn’t look at each other, eyes facing forward and boots squeaking from the puddles as they made their way over the slick tiled floor to the elevator. Standing several feet apart, they waited for the door to slide open, thin rivulets of water still trickling down onto the floor. Jackson tapped his fingers nervously against the thigh of his wet jeans, silently praying that nobody showed up to ride the elevator with them. As soon as the door slid open then closed behind them, they were on each other, mouths and hands locked together, damp bodies pressed close. Evan tasted like weed and gumdrops, a combination so intoxicating that Jackson was sure he got drunk on his lips.
“I love you,” Jack told Evan, pulling away long enough to stare with sincerity into blown-out brown eyes and smiling into the kiss again when Evan leaned in with more hunger, obviously appreciating hearing his sentiment returned.
“Because of the koala?” he whispered with a soft laugh, nuzzling his nose into Jackson’s neck.
“In spite of the fucking koala,” Jackson replied, with a huff that made Evan laugh harder.
“You loved it,” he stated matter-of-factly as he sucked a mark into Jackson’s wet skin.
“Love you,” Jack repeated, letting himself get swept past the dam they’d broken, washed away with the current. “Fucking love you.”
“I love you,” Evan assured him, admitting it to both of them once again. “Never loved anyone like I love you.”
Evan’s earnestness was dizzying and Jackson found himself leaning his body heavy against his lover’s, thinking if he didn’t he’d lose his balance.
Regretfully, they peeled themselves apart when the elevator opened, the short walk down the hallway to Jackson’s apartment feeling like miles; Jack’s lips tingled with the desire to reconnect.
“Amy here?” Evan asked as Jackson put his key into the lock and turned it.
“No.” He couldn’t ignore the fact that his hand was trembling as he turned the knob, everything feeling like too much and not enough at the same time.
He considered giving Evan what Jack had picked up for him, but decided to save it for another time. He dropped his backpack on the ground as he stripped off their clothes, ready to give himself to Evan instead.
Everything.
29
They’d woken up in love for the past several months, but it was different knowing their love was reciprocated by the person for whom they felt so profoundly. The simplest touches were more honeyed, tenderness leaking from fingertips and saturating skin. Words that tumbled from their well-kissed lips were quieter, while their meaning was louder. The pupils of their sleepy eyes were dilated from adoration; their obsession with each other the only source of intoxication. Freckled noses nudged and nuzzled, innocent acts between two men who had spent their lives being anything but.
“I’m so in love with you,” Evan admitted, rubbing his palm up the soft skin of Jackson’s side, relishing in every dip and curve. Their faces were m
ere inches apart, heads sharing the pillow as they always did.
“Been telling me that a lot,” Jackson replied with a smile. It seemed every other sentiment out of Evan’s mouth had been a confession of love, and Jack couldn’t get enough.
“Fucking in awe of it,” Evan sighed. “Never thought I’d be able to feel this way about somebody. Thought I’d spend my whole life being numb, numbing myself. I don’t know…” He paused so he could press his lips against Jackson’s, as if his boyfriend’s puffy pout dripped the elixir that gave him the strength to continue with his thoughts. “It’s weird. Thought I was made wrong or something.”
“You were made perfectly,” Jackson assured, tracing his fingers up the cuts of Evan’s ab muscles. “Every fucking inch of you, inside and out. Perfect.”
“You got a fucked-up definition of perfection. Don’t think that being into the shit that I’m into makes me perfect,” Evan disagreed, clicking his tongue and closing his eyes for a weighty moment. He felt a warm hand cradle his cheek and tilted into the hold. “Wish I was. For you.”
X
Jackson sighed, tentative to ask what he wanted to, knowing that it would fuck up the air of the room, bring noise to the stillness and pummel the sweetness. Still, it seemed like as good a time as any to go there since Evan had brought up the topic. He’d been doing that more frequently recently, his demeanor surrounding it vacillating between anger and sadness, sometimes a strange combination of both. “You ever get help?”
Evan’s brown eyes held more pain than Jackson had ever seen. “No. I honestly never thought it was a problem. It’s always been like running away with my feet planted in the same place, you know? I liked being lost like that.”
“And now?”
“Not sure I want to be,” Evan said softly. “Makes me feel far away from you.” A breathy gasp escaped his mouth as Jackson grabbed his hip and pulled him closer. He wrapped his arms low around Evan’s waist as the redhead tucked himself under Jackson’s armpits, resting his hands on Jack’s shoulders.
“I got some money,” Jackson stated, trying to keep his tone even and careful. “If you want to…”
“Stop,” Evan ordered firmly, shaking his head as he did. “Not taking your money for this shit. I’ll kick it myself.”
Jackson gnawed the inside of his cheek, unsure if he should press. Tamara had been his only experience in relationships, and if he’d offered to send her to rehab, she would have hurried to pick out a place in Malibu and had it booked within the hour. He found that this was the only circumstance in which he wished that Evan would’ve been more like Tammy. “Baby,” he began gently, deciding to go for it. “How long have you been hooked? Four or five years?”
“Around six,” Evan corrected, cringing at the admission.
“You’re not going to be able to do it yourself. You got to get help.”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t do. I’m stubborn as fuck. If I want to do it, I’ll do it,” Evan snapped, pulling away, and sighing when Jackson dragged him back and peppered kisses across his collarbone. He could almost taste Evan’s racing heartbeat.
“Never said you weren’t stubborn,” Jackson assured, looking up with a smirk. “Won’t ever argue with you about that, man.” He attempted to soothe his lover by raking his fingers through wildly red hair as he scooted up to slot their mouths together.
The kiss was purposefully slow as Jackson endeavored to quiet Evan and slow the pounding in his chest. It seemed to work as he fell into the motion, his tongue sliding against Jackson’s as his hands traveled up Evan’s spine.
Jackson would’ve forgotten what they’d been talking about, so wrapped up in the emotions of the moment, if it hadn’t been for the unexpected warmth that trickled over his lips.
“Sorry,” Evan said, his face flushing red as he backed away and climbed out of the bed to shove tissues into his nose. Jackson watched as he wiped the blood off his mouth with the t-shirt he’d discarded on the floor the night before. “Fuck,” Evan chided, as he attempted to stop the bleeding. “Sorry.”
“Ain’t afraid of blood, Goodwyn,” Jackson assured him with a shrug. It was rare for Evan to get embarrassed, but it seemed from the red hue remaining on his face and his trembling hands that he was. “Come back here.”
“Got to stop this first,” he grunted, walking fully into the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
“Tilt your head back,” Jackson suggested. “Treat it the same way you do when you get your ass kicked.”
“Never get my ass kicked.” Evan laughed.
“I kicked your ass,” Jack reminded him.
“Fucking let you, bitch,” Evan called back. “You were so shook that I rolled with the KKz I gave that shit to you.”
“Then you punched me in the fucking face a few hours later. Pussy punch. I didn’t even know it was coming and ‘bam,’ clocked me,” Jackson tsked, grinning at Evan when the door opened and he came back into the room.
“That shit was hot as hell and you know it.” Evan chuckled. “It turned you on.”
“Everything about you turns me on,” Jack admitted while Evan got back into bed and crawled on top of him. “Hot motherfucker.” He grabbed his boyfriend’s ass and kneaded it hard as they kissed.
“You must have it really bad if you don’t mind when I bleed on you,” the redhead teased as he nipped at Jackson’s lip.
“You know I got it really bad.”
“I love you.” Evan looked deep into Jackson’s eyes.
“You’re pretty into that shit, aren’t you?” Jackson wrapped his hand around the nape of Evan’s neck.
“Going to tell you for as long as I feel it.”
“How long’s that going to be?” Jack asked, thinking it was a strange way to reassure him. Realistically, though he wanted to deny it, he knew there wasn’t an endgame for them. They couldn’t live their lives sneaking around; eventually they’d get caught.
“Depends, I guess,” Evan replied. “We could run away from here and it could be forever, or we can stay and it could be months, years?”
Jackson let out a wry laugh and shook his head. “We can’t just pick up and leave. We’re in the mix of it. I got eyes on me and I’m sure you got them on you, too. They ain’t going to just let us go because we fucking want to. I’m the top producer. Until somebody steps up to fill my shoes, I’m the go-to, and if I fuck off, you better be sure they’re going to follow, and it won’t be good.”
“So then you can produce less, right? Don’t pull in so much money and they won’t miss you,” Evan suggested as if it was an easy concept. Jackson almost felt bad for the dirty look he shot him.
“You’re living in some sort of fantasy world, Daywalker. Didn’t your brother explain how this shit worked before you got your ass jumped in?”
Evan shrugged. “I’m telling you, I don’t think about this kind of stuff. I figure the worst thing that could happen is that I get my ass killed, and what difference does worrying about that make if I’m already fucking dead?”
Jackson sighed and tousled his boyfriend’s hair. “Speaking of getting killed, I got something for you to try to stop that shit from happening. Sit up.”
Evan did as he was told, draping his legs off the edge of the bed and keeping his eyes fixed on Jackson’s ass as he walked toward his dresser. He opened the top drawer and tossed a Glock to Evan.
“Got it from my dealer yesterday after you spent the night fucking around on corners that you don’t belong on,” Jackson informed, noticing how Evan’s eyes went wide as he examined the gun. “You got to be strapped, Evan. I’m not fucking around about this. You know how to shoot it?”
“Of course I know how to fucking shoot it,” he replied. He bit his lip and looked up at Jackson, who was still standing over him. “This is a nice gun, Jack. Like really nice and pretty goddamn expensive.”
“It’s the same one I got.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jackson grun
ted, shaking his head.
“I can take care of myself, been doing it my whole life,” Evan stated with enough edge in his voice to piss Jackson off. “Don’t need a fucking sugar daddy.”
“Better that you have a bunch of bitches’ credit card numbers?” Jackson raised his eyebrows high. “Like that more than letting your boyfriend take care of you?”
Evan shot his middle finger up and glanced back down at the gun.
“Let me take care of you,” Jackson urged, dropping to his knees in front of Evan. Jack slowly took the gun out of Evan’s hands and placed it on the bed. The redhead tangled his fingers in Jack’s hair and watched as he licked his lips. “I need you to let me take care of you, all right? All I fucking need.”
“Why?” Evan sighed when Jackson grasped his semi-hard cock and licked the head to bring it fully to life. “Why do you need that?”
“You’re my man. Always want to be down for you,” Jack replied as he circled his tongue around Evan’s shaft.
“And that includes going down on me, too, then?” the redhead asked with a grin, letting out a soft moan as Jackson began to bob his head.
“Mmmhmm,” he hummed, mouth full of cock as he stared up at Evan.
“Going to let you.”
Jackson pulled off Evan’s cock for long enough to ask, “Let me what?”
“Take care of me. Going to let you take care of me if that’s what you need.”
Without another word, Jackson made clear he was going to do just that.
30
When the opportunity presented itself for Jackson to see some of Evan’s paintings, he took it. For months, he’d told Evan to bring his shit over, but his boyfriend had shrugged off the request, stating that he wasn’t about to lug canvases around the South Side. It wasn’t that Jackson really cared about art, he didn’t, but he cared about Evan. When he’d mentioned a few months ago that he seriously wanted to see his work, Evan had gotten shy, his pale face turning a vibrant pink, which Jackson found endearing.
