by AJ Lange
He thought about a summer night in a cabin, and a game of truth or dare.
“I broke up with Heather,” he blurted, then took a long pull from his can.
“Okay.” Matt drew the word out into three long syllables. He looked at Gavin in the lights from the dash and raised his eyebrows. “Does that mean you want to talk about it? Dissect your feelings?”
“Shut up,” Gavin grumbled, fiddling with the radio and ignoring the heat flaring across his cheeks. “I, uh, just wanted you to know.”
“I probably would have figured it out when your days suddenly stopped revolving around cheer practice,” Matt mocked.
Gavin thought he detected a note of hurt in his tone; he was convinced when Matt failed to meet his eyes. “You always came first,” he said gruffly, swallowing another drink. Maybe he should just down the whole thing at once. Liquid courage. Matt’s head whipped around to stare at him and Gavin fidgeted uncomfortably. “What?”
“I don’t know where you came up with that gem.”
“You being first?” Gavin shrugged. “You are. I know it, Dom knows it, Heather knew it. Maybe the only person who didn’t know it was you.”
When Matt lifted his own beer to his lips Gavin noticed the slight tremor in his hand.
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Gavin asked, finally emptying his can and tossing it into the floorboard.
Matt gave him another shocked look.
“Now what? You gonna keep looking at me like I’ve grown three heads?”
“You never throw trash in the floor. Hell you barely let anyone sit in this damn car.” Matt shook his head, a relaxed grin lighting his handsome face, and Gavin’s stomach wrenched in a hot twist of nervous tension. “I’ve been meaning to tell you Gavin, I’m a little worried about your obsession with your new wheels.”
Gavin snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I haven’t seen you complaining when we pull up in front of school, everyone checking out that hot exterior.”
Matt’s laugh rang out over a clap of thunder. The rain was coming down in sheets against the windshield. “I think that’s just you projecting, Gavin. Nobody else gets horny as hell over a car.”
Gavin, feeling bolder, leaned across Matt’s lap, reaching between his knees to fish another beer from the ice. He smiled to himself when he felt Matt tense, his thigh moving uneasily against Gavin’s arm. He straightened with a sly smile, popping the top on the beer and winking. “I wasn’t talking about the car.”
Gavin had a split-second of fear that Matt would be flustered by such blatant flirting, but Matt cocked his head and asked, “Which one gets you hotter? The car or this?” He waved a hand down his body with a flourish, mouth split wide on a grin.
“Both.” Gavin admitted, grinning back. “But mostly you.” Jesus Christ, you, Gavin thought breathlessly.
They sat there smiling at one another, letting their flirtation heat the car’s interior, a pleasant buzz of electricity dancing along their skin. Gavin swallowed and carefully set the beer in the brand new cupholder his dad had helped him to install. He shifted in his seat, slanting his hips more toward the center, gaze catching on Matt’s mouth, enjoying the way the edges lilted upward. “I guess we won’t need that tent tonight, huh?”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “So that was a total accident, right? Forgetting the tent?” He leaned his left hand onto the console, angling his upper body closer to Gavin’s.
“Of course,” Gavin lied. Damn, how had he forgotten how fucking blue Matt’s eyes were? “We could always drive home,” he trailed off. Please say no. Please say no.
“Are you high?" Matt asked incredulously, his voice dropping into a register Gavin had never heard before. It did wicked things inside his gut, inciting a hot flush that felt like it was trying to escape through his pores.
Gavin chuckled. “A little buzzed,” he admitted. He leaned forward, placing his palm beside Matt’s on the leather divider.
Their mouths were inches apart now, chests rising and falling in tandem.
“Me too,” Matt laughed softly. “But I don’t think it’s the beer.” His head dipped forward and he brushed his mouth across Gavin’s upper lip. Gavin sucked in a breath, tongue darting out but failing to make contact before Matt skimmed away.
“No fair,” he whispered, shifting again, scooting his hips closer to the median.
Matt’s mouth returned, sliding over the smooth skin of his cheekbone, down his freshly shaven jawline. Gavin had gotten ready for this camping trip like it was a date, complete with the cologne Matt had bought him for Christmas. They had exchanged presents casually on the floor of Gavin’s bedroom the night of Christmas Eve. Matt had gotten him an expensive bottle of cologne and a used copy of I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew. He had read the Dr. Seuss book to Gavin when they were studying the Odyssey in English that fall, after Gavin hit a brick wall on Homer’s tale.
Gavin had given Matt an antique rosary he had seen in a flea market on a shopping trip with his mom. Matt loved rosaries, a rather unusual fascination for a teenage boy maybe, especially since Gavin didn’t think the Laurel’s were practicing Catholics.
After opening his present, Matt had slid the old, glass beads through his fingers, a soft smile on his face. “Thank you, Gavin,” he had whispered, leaning forward to offer a rare hug. When he had tucked his face into Gavin’s neck, his nose was cold, but his lips were warm.
“Smells good,” he had murmured before releasing Gavin’s neck and sitting back up. Gavin had squirted a single spray of the cologne after opening it. He would savor the amber glass bottle, use it sparingly over the next several months, and only when he was with Matt.
A flash of lightening made Gavin jump and he shifted again, his fingers overlapping Matt’s. He squeezed the two he could catch between his pinky and ring finger. “Matt,” he exhaled the name as the other boys lips slid across his cheekbone. He was forced to close his eyes when Matt’s free hand reached up to rake a hand down his face.
“I can’t look at you when I do this,” Matt whispered, repeating the words Gavin had used the first time they had kissed.
He licked into Gavin's mouth once, twice, then pulled away again.
Gavin groaned. “You’re a tease, Matthew Laurel.”
“Yeah? And you’re rumored to be a slut, Gavin DeLuca,” Matt murmured, lips grazing Gavin’s jawline again, before dipping lower to mouth at his Adam’s apple.
Gavin was so hard his fly was bulging. “Not a slut.” He whimpered when Matt bit gently into his neck. “But, fuck, Matt.”
His squirmed restlessly when he felt Matt’s tongue licking at the soreness, and then up up up his neck, a direct path to his mouth.
“I wish,” Matt whispered, placing soft kisses along Gavin’s lower lip, “I wish she had never been in this car.”
The words were so quiet, Gavin might have missed them if he hadn’t been held suspended, enthralled by the spell Matt had woven. He opened his eyes, bringing a hand to the back of Matt’s neck. The dark hair at his nape was springy to the touch and it made him smile. He hadn’t touched Matt’s hair in a long time. He tugged gently, pulling Matt’s face to his own.
“Don’t worry, I saved the backseat for us.”
Matt smiled before his mouth fell open against Gavin’s, lacking the finesse and ease of his earlier kisses, but more than making up for it with each warm stroke of his tongue. Gavin kissed him back, mouth returning again and again, unable to get enough, to press close enough, to taste enough.
“Take this off,” Gavin urged against Matt’s cheekbone, his hands worming under Matt’s old t-shirt. He laughed when Matt stripped it off in two seconds flat.
“Now you,” Matt said suggestively, his fingers spreading over his own stomach languidly. Through the heated fog of his brain, Gavin knew they should probably slow down, he was going to blow his load before he ever got out of his jeans, but on the other hand, holy fucking shit,
Matt was hot. Hot hot.
Hotter than any girl Gavin had been with, that was for sure.
"Real classy," Matt had laughed, when Gavin dragged him into the back, sorting the tangle of arms and legs and eventually succeeding in removing all of their clothes.
Gavin still remembered the way his body had thrummed with an excited yearning when Matt had lowered them to the seat. The air sizzled with an electrical charge as the storm bore down around them, and Gavin weighed the risk of electrocution against asking Matt if they should stop.
When he had voiced as much, Matt had smirked, hands blissfully occupied, and said, “You’re not moving until I’m done with you.”
Gavin had chuckled on a groan. “Please God, don’t ever be done with me.”
He didn’t miss the way Matt’s eyes softened when he answered, “I’ll never be done with you, Gavin. ”
After that fateful camping trip, there had been many nights when Matt climbed through Gavin’s bedroom window, nights when Gavin had had to press a fist between his teeth to stifle the sounds torn from his throat. Gavin was supposed to be the one with more experience, but Matt had taught him how to make love.
He had also taught him how it felt to have your heart broken, the day he told Gavin he thought they should stop.
“Not because I don’t love it, Gavin, I do,” Matt said, eyes serious. They were curled around each other in Gavin’s bed, sweat cooling their skin in the chilly November air. “But you’re not going to be with me, and I’m not going to be with you, not outside of this bedroom, and frankly, it’s confusing the hell out of me.”
Gavin’s arms tightened around him. “What if I wanted to be? Together, I mean.”
Matt pressed a kiss to his chest. “You don’t.”
Gavin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Matt smiled against his skin. “I know you well enough.”
Gavin pulled Matt’s mouth back to his, anguish and worry and love wrapped inside a searching kiss.
“It’ll be easier,” Matt said, calmer as he moved to lie on the pillow beside him, Gavin feeling the separation as if a physical wound. “And maybe when we graduate, get away from small town gossip, we’ll change our mind.”
“Change your mind, you mean,” Gavin said softly, an undertone of hurt and confusion in the words.
Matt’s hand moved under the sheet to clasp his. “I love you,” he said quietly and it was the first time either had uttered the words.
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.” Gavin rolled over to face him. His heart beat hard in his chest. He didn’t return the sentiment, withholding them on a spark of anger.
Matt rolled his eyes and reached up to brush the hair back from Gavin’s forehead. “I’m not worried about this, Gavin. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m in love with you. I can wait.”
Gavin leaned forward to kiss him softly. “I’ll miss your mouth,” he sighed tragically.
Matt snorted. “Yeah, well maybe we’ll have a drunken mistake every now and then,” he waggled his eyebrows, blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
But they hadn't. They would not share a bed again, not until that fateful St. Patrick’s Day a few years into the future. And Matt had been right, much as Gavin had been loathe to admit it when they were naked, wrapped around each other.
In the cold light of their lives outside of Gavin’s bed, it was simply too unrealistic to be together. At first Gavin waited for graduation day, thinking that that was the magical moment when everything would change and he would be able to shout his feelings for Matt from the rooftops and everyone would begin to sing and dance, joyful in his admission, like a movie musical. The reality was, they fell quickly and easily back into the routine of being best friends, and after a time, Gavin, too, had had doubts.
He glanced over at Matt now, his gorgeous profile framed in the sunlight filtering through the trees, and remembered being seventeen and aching for the body beside him, and being eighteen and giving it up. He wondered how different their lives might have been if he had insisted that night in his bedroom that they take a chance on them. Face the world, and the consequences, together.
“It’s here,” Matt said quietly. He squatted down, running his hand over the forest floor. “Someone’s been here.”
Gavin frowned, kneeling beside him. Matt was right; the pine needles and leaves had been carefully placed to cover the fact that the ground had been recently dug up, filled in. Gavin straightened, hand gripping the shovel tight. “Move back.”
Matt’s fingers held a fistful of debris and he opened his hand, let it fall to the ground when he stood.
It took Gavin about twenty minutes to open the grave, approximately half the time it had taken fifteen year old Matt to originally dig it. After two feet, he slowed, movements careful lest he disturb the remains or miss a clue. At four feet, Matt stopped him, jumping into the hole with him.
“She’s gone, Gavin. ”
Gavin leaned on the handle. “God damn it,” he swore. He raked the back of his fist across his sweaty forehead. “Are you sure this is the right spot?”
Matt nodded gravely. “I’m sure.” He bit his lip, staring at the dark turned earth at their feet. “I used to come here sometimes. Say a prayer for her soul.”
“Jesus,” Gavin whispered, closing his eyes. He wondered if Matt was ever going to be okay again. He was falling apart before his eyes, the layers of strength and determination and feisty ambition that Gavin remembered now a fragile shell, rapidly disintegrating.
“Hop out and I’ll fill in this hole. Why don’t you walk back to the Jeep, get us a bottle of water?”
Matt nodded and let Gavin boost him over the side of the makeshift grave, then reached down to haul Gavin up beside him. Gavin fished the car keys from his front pocket and passed them to him gingerly, trying not to transfer any of the wet dirt; it was nonsensical, but he didn’t want one speck of this grave to ever touch Matt again.
“Hey,” he said when Matt turned to go. Matt stopped, tilting his head inquisitively, eyes too dull, making Gavin’s heart ache. He leaned forward and kissed him softly, swallowing Matt’s ragged sigh. “I love you,” he whispered. The words had been caught in his chest, unspoken for too long, and it was a sweet release to finally say them.
Matt nodded again, his hair brushing against Gavin’s cheek, before he turned away and began to make his way back to the car.
Gavin frowned, watching him walk away. He had just started filling in the hole when a swift whizz and crack snapped through the air and he ducked, whipping his head around for the source.
Matt’s sharp cry turned his blood to ice.
“Matt!” Gavin threw the shovel aside and ran, dropping to his knees when he found Matt writhing on the ground. A razor sharp triangle of metal protruded from an area just below his collarbone and Gavin had to pull Matt’s bloodied hands away.
“Hold still, baby, don’t, you’re going to cut yourself.”
Matt grunted, eyes screwed shut, but he allowed Gavin to transfer his hands to Gavin’s shirt and he gripped the fabric tight in his fists. “Gav,” he rasped, jerking in agony when Gavin ripped his shirt open to survey the damage. Gavin’s breath clogged his throat when he realized how few inches separated the jagged strip and Matt’s heart. The point had gone all the way through, slicing through the tissue and muscle of his upper chest, jutting from his back at an angle, just above his shoulder blade.
Gavin glanced around them quickly, surveying the surrounding forest. The sounds preceding Matt’s cry reminded him of the trap that had caught him the day before; ten or fifteen yards away he spotted the thin cord wound around the base of a tree. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and gently packed it around the edge of the wound, wincing at Matt’s guttural moan.
“Hold this, I’ll be right back.” He waited until Matt met his eyes, nodding once, and stood, looking carefully around him as he made his way to the tree. He knelt down, the
cord slack now that the trigger had been released. He studied the area with sharp eyes. They had been very lucky when they first entered the clearing; the booby trap worked essentially on a sling-shot mechanism, and with that long shard of uneven metal as ammunition, it could have easily been much, much worse. He was just about to hurry back to Matt’s side when he saw it, a block of flagstone, words crudely scratched into its top: A grave is only a grave with a body.
Gavin ground his teeth together.
Matt was pale, face damp with sweat when Gavin squatted down in the leaves. “Easy,” he murmured, one hand at Matt's back to steady him. The dull metallic shard mocked them, glinting in the sun as it stuck out from Matt’s chest at an angle. “I can’t remove it, not here. We need to get back to the car.”
Matt’s eyes were glazed in pain but they sharpened on Gavin’s face. “What did you find?”
“A message,” Gavin grunted, cautiously wrapping his arm’s around Matt’s waist and helping him to his feat. Matt swayed unsteadily. “You okay?”
Matt nodded. “Yeah,” he grimaced. “Hurts like a motherfucker.”
Gavin choked back a laugh, relief flooding his system. “I bet.” He squeezed Matt’s waist before releasing him. “Let’s go.”
The trek to the car was tortuously slow. Whey they finally made it, Gavin eased Matt into the passenger seat, worry darkening his face when he realized the t-shirt Matt held around the wound was soaked through, devastatingly red.
“You need a hospital.”
“No,” Matt said sharply. His breathing was too rapid and Gavin surreptitiously felt for his pulse where he held his wrist in his hand. It was fast, thready.
“Matt,” Gavin started, but stopped at Matt’s black look. “Fine,” he sighed. “Hotel first, and I’ll do my best, but if I don’t think I can get it cleaned and bandaged, I’m taking you to the God damn emergency room.” Gavin’s stomach turned over when he realized he would have to pull the shard from Matt’s shoulder.
