Nobody’s Hero

by J. Leigh Bailey

  Before the word no could form on Brad’s lips, Danny murmured “good” and closed the distance between their mouths.

  Brad’s world became roving hands, gasping breaths and incoherent words. He broke away long enough to tug at the hem of Danny’s T-shirt. Dark eyes sparkling, mouth swollen, Danny lifted enough to pull the shirt over his head. The movement was too much for the narrow couch and sagging cushions. With a surprised “oh,” Danny rolled off the couch and landed in the space in front of the coffee table, orange shirt covering his face.

  Brad tried to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside him. His whole body seized with the effort. He leaned over the edge of the couch. “You okay?” he managed while he tried to catch his breath.

  Danny finally got the shirt over his head, then grinned up at Brad. “Think it’s funny, do you?” he asked, tossing the shirt behind him.

  Snickering, Brad held a hand out to help Danny up. “Well, yeah.”

  Danny clasped the offered hand. Instead of using it to pull himself up, though, he yanked Brad off the couch and onto Danny where he landed with an oomph.

  There wasn’t a lot of room in the space between the couch and the coffee table, so Brad had to struggle to find purchase. His body was pretty sure it wanted to stay right where it was. Gravity pressed him and Danny as close as was physically possible with clothes on. Danny’s chuckles rocked him while he searched for a place to put his hands.

  “You wouldn’t find it funny if my knee had landed on your balls,” Brad said, finally planting his hands on either side of Danny’s head, levering his upper body away to see the other boy clearly.

  Danny slid his hands up along Brad’s sides. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t think it through very well. But, hey, I like the way it turned out.” Danny’s mischievous grin and tousled hair reminded Brad of the toddler with Einstein hair in a photo in Mr. Ortega’s office. Brad spoke before he had a chance to censor himself. “You make me happy.”

  The leer on Danny’s face disappeared. “I’m glad.” He gripped Brad’s T-shirt in his fists and drew Brad closer. Brad lowered his head and met him halfway for a soft, sweet kiss.

  Brad couldn’t remember enjoying kissing this much before. He broke away and took a deep breath. “I think we should continue this on the bed.”

  Danny’s eyes were intent as he searched Brad’s face. Something he saw must have reassured him. “Okay.”

  Somehow the bed, made with military precision, splashed a bit of cool reality on Danny’s overheated senses. It wasn’t that Danny didn’t want to, but he suspected Brad was only caught up in the moment. The Brad he’d spent the day with—and God, hadn’t it been an awesome day—was different from the Brad he’d gotten to know over the last couple of weeks.

  He wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his khaki shorts, then sat on the edge of the bed next to Brad. “Are you sure about this?”

  Brad’s eyes widened. “You don’t want to?”

  Danny would have laughed, but he had just enough working brain cells to know this moment here with Brad was important, more important than simply getting laid. “Yes, God, yes I want to. I...don’t want to pressure you.” There was a pause and then Danny collapsed back onto the bed and covered his face with his arm. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that.”

  Brad lay down next to him and pulled Danny’s arm away from his face. His gray eyes sparkled with amusement. “It was kind of sweet, but a little after-school-special, you know?”

  “Forget it,” Danny said with a mock growl as he rolled until he leaned over Brad. “You’re hot, I’m horny and I’m going to totally take advantage of you.” He nipped at Brad’s collarbone. “Prepare to be ravished!”

  Brad snorted. “Ravished?”

  “Yeah, ravished. I’m an aggressive male. It’s what we do.”

  “Do I get to ravish you too?”

  “Sure,” Danny said, nuzzling Brad’s throat. “There’s only one problem.”

  Brad arched his neck under the caress. “What’s that?”

  “Do I have to toss you over my shoulder and haul you to my secret lair? ’Cause, if so, I’m not sure I’m strong enough.”

  Brad’s smile widened. Satisfaction unfurled inside of him at the accomplishment.

  “Tell you what,” Brad said, wrapping his arms around Danny. “Why don’t we make it up as we go along? Less pressure that way. And less chance of pulling something.”

  “But what if I want to pull something?” Danny trailed his hand down Brad’s chest, slowing when he found the dip of his naval.

  He apparently didn’t need Danny to translate. He sucked in a breath, held it. It escaped in a whoosh when Danny pressed his hands against Brad’s zipper.

  He gasped and fisted the quilt, arching into Danny’s touch.

  Brad’s disappointed growl when Danny removed his hand to pull off Brad’s shirt made Danny grin. As soon as the T-shirt passed over Brad’s head, Danny leaned down to kiss him. He explored Brad’s abs with his fingertips. Who knew running could have such awesome results? He pulled his mouth back to lick and nibble along Brad’s chin and neck. He slid his hands behind Brad, pulling him close.

  When he raised up to catch a breath, Brad stared up at him with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Brad reached up, trying to pull Danny back for a kiss. “Nope,” he said when their lips were bare millimeters apart. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this.”

  He sat up, straddling Brad’s hips to get a good look. A red flush spread from Brad’s collar bones to his pecs. Danny admired the contrast between his darker hands and Brad’s pale skin. Brad squirmed under the caress and Danny slid his hands up Brad’s sides, from hips to the sensitive skin under his arms. He kept going until he could press Brad’s arms up over his head, wrists trapped in Danny’s grip. The move brought them chest to chest.

  “You’re trying to kill me, right?” Brad asked on a gasp, tilting toward him.

  Danny squeezed his eyes shut. He was trying to go slow, damn it, but Brad seemed to have other ideas. He took charge, grasping Danny’s butt and pulling their groins together in a back-and-forth motion that fried his brains.

  Danny groaned before mashing his mouth to Brad’s for a hard kiss. “I’ll say whatever you want as long as you don’t stop what you’re doing.” It didn’t take long for tension to build, winding tighter and tighter before exploding, leaving them both breathless and weak.

  When his muscles finally agreed to hold his weight, Danny braced himself over Brad.

  Brad reached up and brushed back a curl that hung in front of Danny’s eyes. Danny tilted his head into the touch. Brad continued to trace lazy patterns over his neck with one hand, while he gripped Danny’s waist with the other. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow,” Danny said, and reluctantly pushed away from Brad to sprawl next to him on the rumpled quilt. A sudden thought had him grinning. “Brad?”

  “Yeah?” Brad sounded as though he were about to fall asleep.

  “Do you think I can borrow a pair of shorts or sweats or something?”

  Brad turned his head, smirking at him.

  “Mi mamá doesn’t need to see me come in like this.”

  Brad burst into laughter. Thunder from the afternoon storm echoed the sound, which made Brad laugh more. The joy in the sound made Danny feel like a hero. A hero in sticky shorts.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Have you had sex with a lot of guys?”

  Danny jerked his head up and nailed the underside of Brad’s chin. Brad grunted and leaned back. They were an hour into The Return of the King and he’d nearly fallen asleep. Curled up next to Brad on the couch, resting his head on Brad’s shoulder, seemed like the perfect ending to a perfect day.

  “Oh my God!” Brad slapped his hand over his mouth. “I can’t believe I said that.”

/>   “I take it we’re done with the movie?” Danny paused the DVD.

  “Never mind. I shouldn’t have... It’s none of my business.”

  “Nah, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it.” He settled back into the couch cushions, turning his body to face Brad. “What do you want to know? Like a number, or names...” He let his voice trail off.

  He wasn’t ashamed of his past—not like he slept around or anything—but he suspected his sexual experience was more...expansive than Brad’s and he didn’t want to make things awkward. Not when it seemed like things were finally on the right track. Hell, Brad hadn’t pulled away from him all day, had even made the first move. It was almost as if Brad finally agreed to try the whole dating thing.

  Brad leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “This conversation played out way differently in my head. This isn’t at all uncomfortable.”

  “Seriously,” Danny said, grabbing hold of Brad’s hand. “It’s fine. Don’t be uncomfortable. Depending on your definition of sex, I’ve been with five guys. Or three. Again, depending on your definition.”

  “How do you define sex?” Brad opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at Danny.

  “Well, if you only count times where there was penetration—” Danny grinned at Brad’s garbled groan, “—then it was three. If you count blow jobs and hand jobs, and, you know, messing around, well, then it’s five. Six, now, with you.”

  Brad didn’t say anything. Crap, did he think Danny was some kind of slut now? Unable to handle the silence, Danny continued, “Of course, there was the time I got to second base with Penney Jancek, but we were fourteen and playing truth or dare at someone’s birthday party, and, clearly, her breasts really didn’t do it for me, so I don’t think it counts.”

  Brad snorted, then laughed full out. “Man, no, you definitely can’t count Penney Jancek.”

  “To be fair,” Danny said, “she had an exceptional rack for a middle-schooler. Or so my buddies said.”

  Brad shook his head. “Jesus, Danny. You are too much.”

  “How about you? Ever been with a girl?”

  “Christ, no. I went out with one occasionally, usually when my mother wrangled me into some kind of society deal.”

  “How about guys? Carson?”

  “We fooled around a bit, but we never actually had sex.”

  “And since then?”

  Brad looked at him like he’d asked the stupidest question in the world. “Military school. Macho asshole jerks.”

  “Hey,” Danny said, shrugging. “If porn is anything to go by, those military schools are full of sexy times.”

  Brad snorted. “Not at Norton. But I was kind of a loner, so maybe I wasn’t invited to join in the sexy times.” He shuddered. “No. No, I’m pretty sure there were no porno-worthy happenings at Norton Academy.”

  They sat in silence for a minute. Danny traced patterns over the backs of Brad’s hands, enjoying the contrast between their skin tones. He lingered at a couple of scratches near the knuckles. A guy couldn’t work construction without banging up his hands.

  “So, you’ve never...”

  Brad started to tug his hand away, but Danny refused to let go. He wouldn’t let Brad pull away, not now. There was a long silence, and he didn’t think Brad was going to answer him. Eventually, though, Brad turned his head to face Danny. “You probably think I’m a big loser, right?”

  For the second time that night, Danny’s head jerked up. He elbowed Brad. “Why would you say that? With everything that happened to you, I’d be more surprised if you told me you’ve been with even a couple of guys. Not that I’d care. You could have slept with an entire football team and it wouldn’t be any of my business. And I’m sure as hell not going to judge you for it.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” Brad squeezed Danny’s hand. “You’re right. It just seems kind of pitiful.”

  “It’s not pitiful. In fact,” Danny said, tugging until Brad sat plastered against his side, “I find it kind of sexy. Think of all the things we could do. All the things I could be your first for.”

  The images his mind created heated his blood. This afternoon had been great, but the idea of actual skin-on-skin contact? Getting to see Brad naked? Danny’s dick tented the borrowed shorts he wore.

  “In fact...” He bent his head, rubbing his cheek against Brad’s before nibbling along Brad’s jaw. Brad groaned, arching his neck. Danny hooked his hands into the waistband of Brad’s cargo shorts, letting his fingertips play at the smooth line of Brad’s hips.

  Their mouths met, gently, almost sweetly at first, but then Brad growled low in his throat and took control. He changed the angle, his mouth commanding, demanding. Oh yeah, aggressive Brad was sexy as hell.

  Brad used his legs to push the coffee table away, giving them more room to maneuver. He tugged Danny, who scooted over and swung a leg over him until he sat astride Brad’s lap.

  Skin. He wanted skin.

  Danny grabbed the hem of Brad’s T-shirt, pushing it up so he could explore the tightly muscled abs and chest it covered. All that running did have great benefits. He wanted Brad’s shirt off all the way, but it would require they stop kissing. The shirt could wait. Danny traced the waistband of Brad’s shorts, searching by touch for the button. They wouldn’t have to stop kissing to lose the shorts.

  He’d barely gotten the button undone when his cell phone went off. He broke away from Brad’s mouth, breathless, and cursed the familiar ringtone.

  Shit. Mamá. Nothing could kill the mood like hearing his mother’s ringtone while trying to get a guy naked. He rested his forehead against Brad’s abdomen and cursed.

  Brad ran his fingers through Danny’s hair. Danny purred like a cat, turning into the caress. He loved the feel of someone’s hands—especially Brad’s hands—in his hair. Mamá could wait.

  Brad patted his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you get that?”

  Danny grumbled into Brad’s shirt.

  Mamá’s lyrics continued to sound from his phone.

  “Come on. It might be important.” Brad pushed Danny away.

  He leaned forward to grab his phone from the coffee table. “Hola, Mamá.”

  “Mi hijo,” she said, “I am locking up for the night. You have your key, sí?”

  “Let me check.” It took him a second to remember where he’d stashed his backpack. He found it by the door, but it only held the first two DVD cases.

  “I must have left them in my room,” he said. “Can you leave the kitchen door unlocked?”

  She sighed. “No. Papá says not. He worries about the thefts.”

  “What thefts?”

  Brad stiffened, eyes wide. “Thefts?” he repeated.

  Danny shrugged. Papá hadn’t said anything about anything being stolen.

  Mamá’s voice lowered. “Do not tell Papá I said anything. He is worried, but he is waiting for information before he says anything. For now, he wants all doors locked at night.”

  Making a mental note to ask his father about possible thefts—how could he hide something like that from the rest of the family?—Danny considered his options.

  “Actually,” he said, “go ahead and lock up. I’ll stay with Brad. We’ve still got a few hours of movie left—”

  “No!” Brad surged to his feet.

  Danny almost dropped the phone at the panic in Brad’s voice. “Just a second,” he told his mother, then covered the phone’s microphone. He looked at Brad. His gray eyes blazed in his pale face. Not only panic, Danny thought, but anger too. Brad crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You can’t stay here.”

  “What?” What was with Brad’s one-eighty?

  “You can’t stay here. You need to go home.”

  Danny didn’t take his gaze off Brad, but he went back to his phon
e call. “Mamá? I’ll be right down to grab the spare.”

  He disconnected the call. “I’m going to get my key and then I’m coming back. I think we need to talk.”

  “Look, it’s late. We’re not watching the movie anymore anyway, so we should call it a night.” Brad began to systematically crack his knuckles. Pointer finger. Middle finger. Ring finger. Pinkie. Thumb.

  Nerves. Why would he be nervous? Was it the mention of thefts? Did Brad think Danny’s father thought the missing nailer was actually stolen? Stolen by Brad? “If you’re worried about the nailer...” he began.

  “No.” The denial was quick. “It’s been a long day. A great day,” he added quickly, “but I got up early. We can talk about whatever we need to talk about tomorrow.”

  Danny shook his head. “No. I’m going to get my key and then we’re going to talk.” Not waiting for a reply, Danny sprinted to the door and flew down the steps. He yanked the kitchen door open and pulled the spare key ring off the hook on the wall. He waved at Mamá, who stared at him from the center of the room in her robe and fuzzy slippers, and let the door slam behind him.

  What were the odds Brad would have locked the door to keep him out? His fingers squeezed the ring of spare keys in his hand. He could get in if it came to it. Papá and Mamá would be pissed—they’d totally consider it a breach of privacy or something—but he was going to find out what had crawled up Brad’s ass if it took him all night. The handle turned for him, though, so the key wouldn’t be needed.

  He took a second to catch his breath. In the ninety seconds Danny had been gone, Brad had started straightening up the room. Brad had returned the cushions to the couch and had put away his laptop. While Danny watched, Brad grabbed the empty popcorn bowl and the roll of paper towels and hauled them into the kitchen area of the apartment.

  “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s late. We have to work in the morning.”

  “Bullshit.” Danny paced the small space. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to struggle to control his temper. Ray had always been the volatile one. He tried to clear away the anger, hurt, confusion, frustration, and a dozen other emotions he couldn’t define. “You’re making excuses and pushing me away. I thought we’d gotten past this.”