Rainbow Briefs

by Kira Harp



  Rainbow Briefs

  Kira Harp

  Rainbow Briefs

  Copyright 2013 Kira Harp

  Edited by Sara Winters

  Cover art by Enny Kraft

  License Note: Thank you for downloading this ebook. In all formats, this collection of stories remains the copyrighted property of the author. It must remain in its complete and unaltered form, and may not be reproduced, copied or distributed for commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy. Thank you for your support.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  This collection of stories started on the Goodreads Young Adult LGBT Books Group. Every month, the group votes on a picture prompt, and then members write original short fiction or poetry to match the picture. After almost two years, it occurred to me that we were accumulating a collection of fun LGBTQ stories with young adult characters, but they were only being read by group members. And there's not a huge amount of inexpensive LGBTQ fiction out there to be found, so it seemed a shame to keep all of these locked away.

  Many of the best stories over on the group aren't mine, but I had written more than a dozen myself. It seemed like a good idea to put some of them out in a collection that might reach a wider audience. I chose a subset of my own work. There are stories about two boys, or two girls, or three boys, about trans teenagers and more. I tried to include some sweet romance, some angst, some paranormal. I hope readers enjoy them.

  And if you like this collection, you're welcome to come by the group and read the many more stories we have posted there. They're all free, although you have to be a member of Goodreads to see them. That's easily done and also free. If you're curious stop on by.

  There's a list of LGBTQ resources at the back of this book, and a longer list at the top of the Goodreads group. If you're looking for a place to chat, or to get information, or a sympathetic ear, check those lists. Life has its ups and downs, but they are easier to get through when you know how to find people who will be on your side.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to Sara, for pushing me to put the collection together and for all the editing work. To K, Kiracee, Jess, Elci, Trisha, Samantha, for reading and helping to polish these, and to everyone on the Goodreads LGBT Books group for encouragement and support.

  Table of Contents

  Rainbow Briefs

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Future, Imperfect

  Oblivious

  Tomorrow

  Designing Sam

  Working

  Coming Back

  Behind Door Number Two...

  Blind Sights

  My Own Kind

  Making Connections

  In an Orange Glow

  Change of Plans

  In Unexpected Places

  Variations

  Doubts and Darkness

  LGBTQ Helplines and Resources

  About the Author

  Also by Kira Harp

  Future, Imperfect

  ~Picture prompt: Two young men stand on either side of a tall chain-link fence. Each man's hands grasp the wire, white-knuckled, as they stare into each other's eyes. Only their fingers touch.

  I loved to watch Julio play ball. The best days were when he was on the Skins team - I could stand and stare at the way his muscles moved under his smooth tan skin. This time he was on Shirts, and my favorite sights were hidden. The sleeveless white cotton clinging to his washboard abs was almost as good though. I stood back from the playground fence in the shadows and watched him.

  They played hard, all of them. Young men, mostly tall, dark-haired and lean, on that playground court in the early summer evening. Shouting, leaping, a game of jostling shoulders and elbows, the echo of shoes slapping on the concrete, and the ring of chains as a shot ripped through the basket. Two points for Julio's team, and Carlos gave him a high five in passing.

  Julio was damned good. If he'd stayed in school, he'd have had the college scouts after him. He'd dropped out, though, and gone to work for his second cousin's construction company. Coach just about had a fit, but Julio was helping to support his little sisters. He played for the joy of it now.

  Watching Julio move the ball up-court was like watching a dolphin swim through a herd of seals. The other guys were good, moving with surprising grace for a crowd of lanky teens still growing into their size thirteen shoes and wide gangling shoulders. But Julio was better. He was sleek and swift and agile, his body under perfect control. Watching him made my chest ache.

  He saw me before I was ready for it. I'd hoped to lurk unnoticed a little longer, to take just a few more minutes to fill my eyes with the sight of him, and pretend it was still last month, or last year, or any time when the future had felt simple. He spotted me though, as he always did. When play paused he gave his teammates a wave and headed toward me, mopping his face with the hem of his shirt.

  He slowed as he came near. I stepped forward, trying to look casual. We met at the fence, unobtrusively close, restrained by the chain link between us from giving too much away.

  Julio hooked his fingers in the wire. “So, are you off then?”

  “Soon.” There were a thousand things I wanted to say. They boiled down to just one. “I don't want to go.”

  “I know. We have to be adult about this though.”

  He was only a year and a half older than me. I hated when he said stuff like that. “Screw you.”

  He grinned, with that heat in his eyes that made my dick hard and my knees weak. “You have.” His lips hardly moved, but I heard those words right inside me.

  For a moment, all I could see was Julio. I stepped closer, grabbing the fence myself, pretending it was to support my bad leg and not because he made me want to drop to my knees. Our fingers brushed, a bare touch of skin. It was safe enough, two guys, buddies, on either side of seven foot wire mesh... it was dangerous enough to make the whole world stand still. Neither of us moved for a minute.

  “You have to go.” Julio's voice was low but urgent. “You know that. Your mom married this guy to get this chance for you. College, surgery for your foot, everything you need for your future.”

  All I need is you. I couldn't say it. I did say, “I've gotten along with the damned club foot all my life—I walk okay; I don't need to jump and dance.”

  “I actually wouldn't mind if you could dance better than the last time.”

  We'd been in my room, safely alone, with Julio moving gracefully to the music from my iPod, opening his arms to me. I'd gone to him. We'd swayed together, found a rhythm for a moment, before I'd tripped over my twisted ankle. He'd caught me. Which had led to other things. “I fell on you on purpose.”

  “Riiiight, you keep telling yourself that.”

  “Anyway, I don't need to go off to some fancy college. I don't need my stepdad's money to be okay.”

  “Maybe I want you to be better than okay. Maybe I want you to go to college, 'cause I can't.”

  He'd said that before, and it still felt freaking unfair. Do it for me. What about what I wanted? Before Mom met Arne, I'd figured on going to community college and building a life here, with Julio. We'd been together for two years, and no matter what he said, I was nowhere close to getting tired of him. That would never happen. And now everyone in my life was telling me about this great opportunity, about New York surgeons and New York schools and how it would change my life. And all I could see was that it meant leaving Julio behind.

 
He must have seen the old arguments rising in my eyes, because he moved a little closer to the fence. I could smell his aftershave, and the sharp tang of his sweat. He said, “It's not forever. We'll text and I'll call you. Skype even, if I can find a way. You'll be home for Christmas.” Then he wrecked it by adding, “Just... if you do meet a guy, someone better, tell me. I don't want you to feel guilty. I just want to know.”

  “Go to hell,” I snarled. God, I was so mad I could hardly breathe. And yet, that wasn't what I wanted our last words to be. We had maybe ten more minutes before Arne came looking for me, tapping his watch and telling me time was money. Don't be a freaking coward. Lay it on the line.

  We'd never done that. We'd been together in every way there was. Tentatively at first, when I was sixteen and he was almost eighteen, and this thing between us was fresh and new. Secretly, later, when I was seventeen and he was nineteen. It was technically illegal then, and Arne, in his new position as my stepfather, might have used that against him, so we were careful, but we never stopped. We were together. Wildly and passionately in private, and once in a gay bar across town, openly and joyfully, since I turned eighteen. But we'd never said the words.

  “I love you.” I said it, just like that. I saw the shock in his eyes, followed by the heat. I added, “I'm not going looking for anyone else, and I'll be counting off the days till Christmas and the years till graduation. You'd better be doing the same.”

  Julio moved his hand so his fingers slid against mine through the chain link. “One thousand three hundred and twenty-five days to your graduation. Assuming they do it on the first Saturday after the end of term. And assuming you can keep your ass in gear and graduate in four.”

  I could feel the smile that tugged the corners of my mouth, even as my eyes went blurry. “You checked it out.”

  “Nah. Never even thought about it.”

  “Will you come to my graduation?”

  “Sure. And I'll expect you to dance with me. Properly. Without landing in my lap.”

  From up the hill behind me I heard Arne's voice. “Mark? You out here?”

  Julio stepped up close against the fence. “You have to go.”

  “Yeah.” We'd said private goodbyes last night, but I hadn't been able to resist coming down for one last look. And now I was glad.

  “Gonna miss you, Mark.”

  “You too. All the damned time. No matter where I go.”

  “Wish I could kiss you good-bye.” His tone was low and intense.

  “Your buddies are looking.”

  He met my gaze, and his eyes were dark and wide. “Mark. I will if you want me to. Right here, in front of them, and your stepdad up there, and everyone.”

  Holy hell. I'd wanted to come out as soon as I'd turned eighteen. He'd thought it was smarter to wait. He'd been right and it was still smarter, but this offer felt like a gift. I had to be careful about returning it. “Might dry up the college funds.” When he held still, and silent, I added, “Besides, when we do that, we'll do it together. On a day when we can stay together, and look them in the eyes and hold hands, and not let go. One thousand three hundred and... how many?”

  “Twenty-five days.”

  “Then. We'll stand up in front of everyone and do it then.”

  Very slowly he stepped backward, pulling his hands from the fence. His touch left me, and I clung to the chain-link. My foot ached and I shifted my weight off it, keeping my gaze locked on his. Had I said the wrong thing?

  When there was a foot of empty space between us, he stopped. “I love you too,” he said softly. “I can wait that long. Or, you know, forever.”

  Then he whirled and ran back toward the basketball court. With a leap he intercepted a pass, dodged two bare-chested guys, and threw a perfect three-pointer that never touched the net. He was like quicksilver slipping through them. None of them could hold him. But I could.

  From behind me, my stepfather said, “There you are. Come on, time's wasting. Maybe by the time you come back from New York, you'll be able to play like that friend of yours.”

  Without turning, my eyes still on Julio, I said, “Never. The doctors don't expect me to ever heal up that perfect. It's okay though. That's not what I want.”

  “What do you want then?” His tone said he was humoring me, only half listening.

  Down on the court, Julio jumped for the ball, missed and came down lightly. His body twisted and flexed, perfect motion, already leaping forward. An observer might have thought he was completely caught up in the game. But as a lull came, I saw him glance casually my way, then cross his arms across his chest and take two steps, smooth and gliding, and nothing whatsoever to do with basketball.

  “I want to learn to dance,” I said.