Crocus

by Amy Lane

  Larx grunted, his mind focusing on the conversation.

  “Yoshi called her into his office today, and as soon as the door closed behind her, she backed up against it like he was the boogeyman.”

  “Yoshi?” Aaron adored Yoshi—but so did Larx, and anybody could see Yoshi was as frightening as his beloved Hello Kitty sticker collection.

  “Yeah—so, that’s an alarm. Yoshi has her open the door and sits her down, then sits behind his desk and pulls up her grades, and the first thing he notices is that all the classes she’s suddenly doing not so great in have male teachers. Then he notices that she’s put on a little weight—which girls do—but it’s in the breasts, and her chin is rounded, and in the middle.”

  “Uh-oh,” Aaron said, because these were pretty obvious tells.

  “Right? And then Yosh asks if there’s a reason her grades went down, and he thinks she’s going to break down. He’s fully prepared for her to lose her shit on him, but she doesn’t. She stands up and says her stepdad’s ex-law enforcement, and he says she doesn’t have to answer any of Yoshi’s questions.”

  Aaron blinked. “Uh… is he?”

  “Sort of,” Larx told him. “He’s done security for things like the fairgrounds or rock concerts—apparently he has a Taser and a badge, and she seems to hate both things. But Yoshi doesn’t lose his cool—that’s why he took her when I got Jaime Benitez—”

  Larx blinked.

  “Hey—do you and Kirby have old snow boots we can give him and his brother? They’re new here and sort of on a shoestring and—”

  “Not a problem,” Aaron said, sounding unfazed and rock-solid and totally normal, draped over Larx’s back as Larx leaned against him. “Both of us do. We usually give to the charity drive, but we weren’t sure if Kellan needed a pair, and then we got him some for Christmas, remember?”

  “Yeah,” Larx said, one thing falling off his list and—maybe—making room for his What to do about Olivia list. “That would be great. Before we go to bed, could you guys put them in a bag by the door, along with—”

  “Coats and any long johns we might have. I hear you. Are you having these kids over for dinner?”

  Finally Larx’s desperation lifted a little. “Yoshi said the same thing.”

  “Mm… that’s because we know you, Principal Larkin, and once you take a kid under your wing, they’re protected from the elements for life. So, if I promise to get the boots for Jaime, will you tell me what you and Yoshi decided to do about Candace? She’s clearly being abused by someone in her life….”

  “We think it’s the stepfather, but yeah.” Larx and Yoshi had come to the same conclusion. “And she might even be pregnant—which is awful enough, but she’s scared, and she’s not talking. So we called the school psychologist to come talk to her tomorrow, and she’s going to get pulled out of class again, and we’ve called social services so they can be there for the interview—but it’s going to be messy, and her sister is going to need to be removed from the home, and the CPS office is about thirty miles away, so we can only hope they get here tomorrow before school is out, especially if the sister is involved. So Yoshi let her leave his office thinking that was the end of it—he was just worried about her grades, but tomorrow—” Larx shuddered.

  “Yeah.” Aaron’s lips cruised the back of his neck. “Tomorrow’s gonna be hard,” he said softly. “And then Olivia is going to get home, and it’s going to be harder.” He kissed the join of Larx’s shoulder then—with an open mouth.

  Larx’s brain shut down. Shut. Down.

  The Olivia thing, which had been churning in his stomach for three days, was tabled. She was with her wombat now, and he couldn’t fix it. The Candace thing, which had sat like a stone on his shoulders, was tomorrow’s nightmare—still difficult, but Larx had made a dozen phone calls, and he and Yoshi had planned for half a dozen scenarios. They were as prepared as they were going to get.

  Aaron had plans to put boots at the door, so Jaime and his brother might not freeze to death during the dreariest month of the year.

  Dinner was done. The dishes were dry.

  And his entire body was telling him he had a different agenda.

  He moaned breathily.

  Aaron turned him around and, by bending his knees a little, tucked his hands into Larx’s back pockets.

  “Go upstairs,” he whispered into Larx’s ear. “We’re going to watch TV in your room until the kids bang on our door and tell us good night. Can you deal with that, Principal?”

  Larx had to fight tears. “Yes. Oh God, yes.”

  Aaron’s throaty laughter actually gave Larx wood. “And then we’ll do something where saying ‘Yes, oh God, yes,’ is a requirement.”

  Larx buried his face against Aaron’s throat. “I… I… uh….”

  “It’s okay, Larx. You don’t have a plan for once. Well, for once I’ve got a plan. It’ll do until you get a better one. How’s that?”

  Larx nodded hopelessly. “It’s good. I like this plan.”

  “Good. Go put on your pajamas. I’ll round up boots and calm the troops.”

  Larx practically whimpered as he beat a retreat upstairs. He was in bed under the covers, flipping moodily through channels, when Aaron came in and started getting ready for bed. Lucifer was on, which is what the kids were watching downstairs, so he settled in for that, relaxing even more when Aaron crawled in next to him. For long, soul-drugging moments he did nothing but follow the television and run his palm dreamily over Aaron’s mildly furry chest, stopping every now and then for a desultory pinch of the nipples.

  Aaron’s indrawn breaths started to get harsher, and Larx—whose brain had been pleasantly off—began to remember that his body could be very much “on.”

  The show continued, and Aaron began to trace his fingertips very gently down the side of Larx’s bare arm.

  Larx’s turn for the indrawn breath to mean more than just oxygen.

  Moment by moment, touch by slow, teasing touch, the storm brewed between them. The show ended, and they locked eyes, both of them listening to the sounds below.

  The TV shut off; Kellan fed the cats, calling “Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss!” which was a phrase he’d brought himself and they both found endearing. Kirby let Dozer out for a run, and at the sound of the back door sliding open and Kirby calling to the dog and cursing the cold, Aaron lowered his head to Larx’s neck and began a slow lick to his collarbone.

  Larx started to shake, the desire in his stomach exploding to now just that fast.

  Christiana—it must have been—turned off the lights, locked the front door, and called Dozer in, because he didn’t obey Kirby worth a damn.

  Then… oh then… they heard all three kids on the stairs, calling, “Night, guys! Night, Dad! Night, Daddy! Night, Aaron!” in a soft chorus.

  Aaron pulled his head back, and he and Larx both said, “Night, guys! Sleep tight!” through the door.

  Aaron ducked his head again, this time aiming for Larx’s nipple.

  Larx pulled in another harsh breath, knotting his fingers in Aaron’s thick blond hair and kneading, slowly kneading, at Aaron’s rhythmic tugs.

  The hall light disappeared under their door and Christiana’s door closed, and Aaron surged upward, claiming Larx’s mouth with aggression.

  Larx answered back the same way.

  They couldn’t be loud. The kids weren’t asleep just yet; the house was still in the breathless quiet of lights-out. But all Larx wanted to do was devour the man in his bed, eat him alive, take him into his soul.

  Aaron apparently felt the same way, but Aaron was a man of action. He shoved at Larx’s waistband until his shorts slid down and without finesse wrapped his hand around Larx’s erection. After a few terrible moments of fumbling with Aaron’s briefs, Aaron unfurled in Larx’s hand, hardening, thick, and oh, hot. So hot.

  They moaned into each other’s mouths and squeezed in tandem, both of them stroking, bucking against the other, the soft rustling of the covers and their
hushed, ragged breathing the only sounds in the room.

  And still they kissed. Aaron’s tongue in his mouth fed his soul; Aaron’s hard chest against his other hand kept him grounded, grounded and sane when the rest of the world felt like it was spinning beyond control. And still that silky, hard grip on his cock—augh!

  They both started bucking in rhythm, and Larx’s precome spilled, scalding and slippery, making Aaron’s grip on him a delirium of pleasure and pressure. Aaron whimpered and Larx felt him, just as hot, just as slick, spurting into Larx’s fist.

  Close. They were so close.

  The kiss never faltered, never failed, and together they stroked and thrust, rocketing toward a quick and dirty climax, shuddering with desire ramped slowly, relieved quick.

  Larx’s hit first, and he bucked hard, letting out a soft whine, a chuff of air into Aaron’s mouth, and then Aaron did the unthinkable.

  He moved, taking Larx’s cock into his mouth and presenting Larx with his own. Larx had it down his throat just as Aaron swung his leg over Larx’s head, and the feeling of the crown, already spitting come, shoving down his throat caused his climax to roar like wildfire, taking control of his limbs with it.

  Aaron’s spill of spend in his mouth was salty and bitter and everything Larx had craved without knowing it when he’d gone up to bed that night.

  He swallowed as fast and as hard as he could, smiling to himself as Aaron’s leg lowered, resting limply on Larx’s ear.

  Larx gave his cock one more long, leisurely slurp and sighed happily when Aaron did the same.

  “We should probably move,” Aaron murmured.

  “This could get awkward if we fall asleep this way,” Larx agreed.

  Aaron was the one who shifted back, and they both pulled up their underwear in the general reshuffling of people and blankets. Just when they were about situated again, Dozer gave a soft whine and a scratch at the door, so Larx had to get up and let him in, closing the door behind him.

  He crawled back into bed, made sure his phone was set up to charge, set an alarm, and then snuggled back into Aaron’s arms.

  “Aaron?”

  “Mm?”

  “I’m glad we did that.”

  “Me too.”

  “I mean… the world’s still really confusing—but that?”

  “Felt really good.”

  “Yeah. Made it all better.”

  Aaron chuckled, insufferably pleased with himself—but deserving of bit of pride. “’s my job, Principal.”

  “You’re good at it, Deputy.”

  “Love you, Larx.”

  “Love you back.”

  Larx’s eyes closed against the darkness, and for a moment—a very brief moment—he was at peace.

  AARON’S BODY wrapped around Larx’s like a giant bear rug, and Larx didn’t want to move, but there was the noise… the insistent noise. Not the alarm, the other thing. That… thing. Larx batted at the thing and grabbed it, pulling it to his ear and poking at it futilely.

  “S’op,” he muttered.

  Aaron took it from his hand and hit the right flashing light, holding it up to his ear so he could talk.

  “S’Larxwho’reyou?”

  “Principal Larkin?”

  The voice was young, breathless, and frightened, and Larx struggled against the blanket of sleep that bound him so tightly. “Ulhn, Jaime?” Yah! A name! That was a triumph!

  “Yeah, sir. This is Jaime Benitez—you remember me?” There was something wrong with the kid’s voice—it was tight and it stuttered.

  Like the kid’s teeth were chattering.

  “I ’member you,” Larx slurred. “Why you cold?”

  “’Cause that girl,” Jaime whispered and chattered. “She came back. She came back and went to hide in my shed, and I remembered what you said and tried to circle around and go in the house.”

  Larx tried hard to focus.

  They’d had plans for Candace and her sister that morning. The school psychologist, CPS, the whole nightmare of investigating to see if the girls—or Candace alone—were being sexually abused in their own home.

  They hadn’t told Candace that, of course. They’d just sent her back to her room—but then, maybe her stepdad didn’t need any more than that. Maybe he’d come after her because she’d been pulled out of class. Oh Lord.

  Larx swung his feet out of bed, suddenly awake. “Jaime, where are you?”

  “In the woods,” he chattered. “Beyond the cabin. I’m freezing. But she’s in the shed, and some guy banged on the front door of the house and he’s yelling at Berto and… he can’t yell at Berto, Mr. Larkin. Berto—he’s not so good with people yelling.”

  Larx tried not to moan, just in sympathy. “Hang on there, Jaime. Me and Sheriff George, we’re on our way—we’ll call someone else too. Help’s coming—I swear it. Help’s coming.”

  “Okkkay—what should I do?”

  Larx had pulled on yesterday’s jeans by then and was working on a hooded sweatshirt to go under his fleece-lined flannel jacket. “Does the shed have any hiding spots?” Larx didn’t want this kid in the middle, but the danger of freezing to death in the next hour was very real.

  “Yeah. A couple—it’s even got a cot.”

  “Go there—I know what I said about staying away from Candace, but you can’t stay outside. Knock softly on the door and tell her you need to hide too. And then both of you hide. Stay away from the windows, don’t let her stepdad see you, and don’t come out until you hear us, okay?”

  “Got it,” he whispered. “I’m going in now—I gotta. I won’t be able to move in a minute.”

  “Okay. Keep the line open, but put the phone in your pocket, okay? That way we can hear what’s going on but you have your hands.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Larkin. Come quick, okay?”

  Larx had his hand on the door and looked up in time to see Aaron—dressed in tomorrow’s uniform, freshly pressed—lacing his boots and damned near ready to go.

  “As quick as we can,” he vowed, and then he put the phone in his own pocket so he could get his boots.

  Before he trotted downstairs, he knocked softly on Christiana’s door. “Christi? Sweetheart?”

  “Daddy?”

  He opened her door. “Honey, somebody needs our help. Aaron and I are going out to make sure he’s okay—could you start some coffee and some hot chocolate, just in case? Put the chocolate in a thermos and then go back to bed, but it sure could come in handy.”

  “Yeah, Daddy. You and Aaron be careful.”

  “Will do, sweetheart. Thanks for being awesome.”

  Her appearance at the door was almost wraithlike, and he tried hard not to startle. “Was taught by the best,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.

  As he ran out the door toward Aaron’s SUV, bag of snow boots and extra jackets in hand, he wondered if he’d really taught her anything. He certainly seemed to have let her sister down—he was pretty sure Christiana had learned awesomeness all by herself.

  Larx held tensely on to the Praise-Jesus handle while Aaron negotiated the roads. Aaron’s driving skills were impeccable—it was Larx’s knowledge of exactly how treacherous the snow was that made him nervous. That and the fact that Aaron was talking on the radio, calling for Sheriff Mills, his boss, to join him on the small, quasiresidential stretch of road where Candace Furman and her family as well as Jaime and Berto Benitez lived.

  Larx held his phone to his ear through most of it—he’d heard Jaime telling Candace that he needed to use the shed too, and then showing her where to hide under the cot, or in the closet. From what he could glean, Candace had taken the cot, and poor Jaime got the closet because he was smaller. But each one of them took a blanket from the cot, and Jaime made sure hers was tucked well and good under the cot, so the shed looked abandoned, and they could both get back to crouching in fear of their lives.

  “Eamon’s coming,” Aaron said into the silence. “And he called in two more units. We might be the first one there, but we wo
n’t be without backup.”

  “Good,” Larx said. “You guys go take care of Mr. Furman, and I’ll go to the shed and—”

  “And stay in the goddamned car,” Aaron snapped. “Jesus, Larx. You’re coming to calm the kids down once we get them. You’re not going in there.”

  Larx gaped at him, indignant. “What do you mean, I’m not going in there—he called me for help!”

  Aaron cleared his throat. “I’ve got Kevlar, Larx. Specially fitted—for me. I do not have a vest for you. I know you want to help the kids, baby, but you can’t help them if you get gunned down. You told Christiana you’d be back. I’m not letting this play out any other way.”

  Larx gaped at him for a moment, trying to separate his urgency from his common sense—and it was rough going for a minute. He wanted to help, dammit.

  But Aaron was trained. Aaron had a gun and a Taser at his hip, and Kevlar and a tactical pen and probably three other things Larx didn’t know about.

  “Unless I’m needed,” Larx said after a moment, and the entire SUV lightened with Aaron’s sigh of relief.

  “I’ll call you in,” he said.

  “Or, you know, something obvious, and the kids need me.”

  “Larx!”

  “I’m not running out into the middle of a firefight and shouting, ‘Hey, hit me! Hit me!’” Larx defended. “I hate guns!”

  “Do I have to remind you—”

  “And besides, do you remember when you almost got run over?”

  “You got shot!”

  “You’ve gotten shot before!” Larx sallied, wondering when this had become something they should have bonded over.

  “And do you know why I wasn’t dead? Because I had Kevlar! And do you know why you weren’t dead?”

  Larx grimaced. “Pure dumb luck?”

  “Pure dumb luck.” Aaron pronounced the words like a prison sentence. Which they apparently were. Larx was being sentenced to the SUV until Aaron let him out. For a fulminating moment, Larx remembered he’d spent most of his life bucking authority, but then Aaron slipped and slid up the driveway of Jaime Benitez’s house.