Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain) (3 page)

The air inside was stifling. “Yeah. It’s me.” He plucked at the front of his shirt, billowing air to his damp armpits. “Hey, are you drinking enough liquids? It’s hot in here.”

In the living room, his mother sat on the couch. Her feet were propped on the coffee table, and she was wrapped in a quilt, clutching a rosary in one hand and a remote in the other. She wore a beanie over her thin hair, making her look like a younger version of herself. “Yes, dear.” She gestured at her cup on the coffee table. There was tea inside, but since Father MacKenzie had been by earlier in the day, Nicky suspected her drink had been tipped with her favorite flavor of schnapps.

Strictly speaking, his mom shouldn’t have the stuff, but the good Father liked to spoil her, sneaking in her favorite chocolates from See’s even though they did a number on her digestion. The nurses at the hospital might frown on her breaking her diet plan. Worse, Nicky might feel guilty for letting it happen. He had to admit his mom was right, though, there was no point in surviving this long if she couldn’t have a little fun.

“Did you have a nice time at the barbecue earlier?” she called to him.

He went into the kitchen to pour her something that wouldn’t dehydrate her, and returned to the living room.

“Yeah.” Nicky set the glass next to her other cup and placed two pills beside it. His mother was supposed to take Marinol to increase her appetite, but she tended to forget. “It was nice to see the guys.”

The sound of televised mass carried through the living room. “Lord be with you…”

His mom replied under her breath, “And also with you…”

The greeting on this show was her favorite, since this was the only mass on television that still used the missal from before they changed it in 2011.

So when the priest continued, “Lift up our hearts,” Nicky replied along with his mother, “We lift them up to the Lord.”

“Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.”

Nicky caught his mother’s smile as they said in unison, “It is right to give Him thanks and praise.”

More and more when his mother watched regular television shows, her face would tense. Nicky knew she couldn’t always understand the storylines, and was too embarrassed to ask him or her home health aide to explain.

However, this mass program was the same every time, the words a recital Nicky had heard every Sunday growing up. He could tell by the way his mom’s muscles relaxed, her face settling into an expression not unlike meditation, that watching it gave her at least as much comfort as her pain pills.

The priest launched into the rest of the prayers, so Nicky eased his way toward the door. Not that he minded watching mass with his mother, but he needed to do some chores before heading to the gym. “I’m going upstairs for a bit.”

“Okay.” His mother’s attention was back on the screen. Absentmindedly, she waved a tired hand at him. “Did you meet any nice girls at the party?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” Becca’s words still bugged him, but he knew she hadn’t meant anything by them. Anyway, there was no harm in spinning a story his mother might like to hear. “The fire chief’s sister-in-law seems nice enough.”

The corners of his mother’s eyes, which were so often crinkled with pain, softened. “That’s good. Maybe you can take her out sometime.” Her expression became dreamy, unfocused. She might have been thinking about catching a daughter-in-law, or she might be having one of her tricks of memory where she thought Nicky was a teenager again. Either way, she was happy, so Nicky didn’t question it.

“Yeah, maybe.” Nicky jogged up his stairs to his room. After tossing his sweaty clothes in his laundry basket, he grabbed fresh shorts and a tank top out of his drawers. “You need laundry done?” he shouted down the stairs, but when his mom didn’t answer, he cracked her door and added the contents of her laundry basket to his own.

Jesus stared from a painting behind her bed, crown of thorns digging painfully into his scalp. His hand was raised like he was saying, “Yo.”

Nicky needed to get out of there before he starting thinking about the expressions on all the statues in his mother’s cluttered room.

In the downstairs hallway, he loaded their clothes in the wash. Then he hurried to the door, not wanting her to see him in his workout clothes. Even in summer, she’d always insisted he wear long shorts, as if flashing some thigh was akin to being naked. “I’m going to head to the gym for a couple hours. Do you need anything?”

“What did you say the name was of the girl you like?”

Nicky rubbed the back of his neck, and his fingertips met scalded skin. Damn place between his motorcycle helmet and his jacket always got sunburned when he rode. “Becca.” His mom would never meet the girl, so it didn’t seem to matter. “I forgot to ask, do you need help going to the bathroom?”

He’d only had to help her with that a few times, but he always worried she wouldn’t admit if she needed it.

“No. I’m fine, Nicky. Don’t worry.”

Nicky nodded to himself, reaching for the doorknob. He skipped grabbing a jacket, since he’d be walking to the gym. “Okay, then. See you later.”

Six hours later—after working out, returning home to change clothes and heading to the park—Nicky pulled into a parking spot, where he got off his bike. Nearby, a couple guys leaned against a car eating from a takeout container. One must have said something funny, because the other laughed.

Nicky’s chest ached, though he wasn’t sure why.

Maybe because this whole thing was depressing—coming to the park hoping strawberry-haired guy had been serious. But Nicky couldn’t ride home to his empty room in his mother’s dark house. He needed this tonight. To feel like another human being understood him, if only for a few minutes.

“Hey.” Strawberry walked up. His green fleece jacket looked good with his eyes—made them more aqua than blue. His jeans and hiking sandals were low-key enough that if they weren’t at a park in a gay neighborhood, Nicky wouldn’t have necessarily thought there was anything
off
about him.

“Yeah. Hi.” Nicky had no idea what to say, but any chance Strawberry would believe Nicky had only hooked up with a man that one time went up in smoke. Strawberry would know. Fuck, he knew already. Nicky was an idiot. “Um…nice seeing you this afternoon.”

Strawberry cocked his head to the side, a smile spreading slowly across his face. “Yeah. So, you’re a firefighter, huh?”

Nicky swallowed against a lump in his throat. “Yeah. And you?”

“I’m in school. At the U. Finished undergrad in May and starting a masters in sociology in September. My area is Stratification, Race and Ethnicity.”

Nicky licked his lips nervously. He hardly knew what sociology was, and had nothing interesting to say about it. Instead, he settled for the basics. “Cool. I’m Nicky.”

“Michael.” Strawberry crossed his arms.

Tongue-tied, Nicky tried to figure out what came next. The night they’d hooked up before had been easier. Nicky just followed where Michael had led. This—was it seduction? A date? Nicky didn’t even know what to call it, but his mouth refused to move.

An SUV pulled into the lot, and on reflex Nicky spun away so the driver wouldn’t be able to make out his face.

“Nice.” Michael’s eyes narrowed. That sneer made Nicky feel ten times worse than the stupid SUV full of strangers. “So, are we going to do this or what?” Michael crossed to the path around the reservoir.

“Sorry,” Nicky mumbled as he fell into step behind.

“Whatever.” Michael kept up his quick-paced walk until he got to approximately the same spot where they’d made out a few weeks ago. “There?” Michael jerked his head toward the trees. He caught Nicky’s hand.

Something that felt like joy coursed through Nicky, tinged with enough adrenaline to make him want to sprint away from their spot. His attention landed on their clasped hands, and how—although they were still on the path around the reservoir—Michael didn’t let go.

Michael stepped closer. Close enough there was only a half foot of space between them.

“I can’t do this out here,” Nicky murmured.

The way Michael’s eyes sparkled, he must have known Nicky was uncomfortable. Worse, Michael nibbled his bottom lip like he thought it was funny. “Okay. But what do you want to do in there?”

Nicky tried to regain his footing. The challenge in Michael’s eyes made his chest flare with heat. With a pass of his fingertip, he touched Michael’s lips. “This?”

Michael tipped his head back, smirking. “No thanks.”

Nicky’s mind raced. “I’d be up for a hand job instead.”

“Hmm.” Michael’s smile spread like he’d just scored a point. “I could use one myself. How about we trade?”

“Uh…I guess.” Nicky’s mind blanked out, all his blood rushing to the solid pike in his pants as Michael led him between the trees.

Michael got a hand on the bark next to Nicky’s head, backing Nicky into a large cedar. Michael stared into Nicky’s eyes like he could dig out every last one of Nicky’s secrets with a dull machete and leave Nicky bleeding on the ground.

“Get away from me,” Nicky said, not as forcefully as he meant it, especially since his dick was stiff and Michael probably felt it against his hip.

“Thought you said you wanted a hand job.” Michael’s lips were so close, wet and pink. He roamed his fingers down Nicky’s arm and dragged Nicky’s hand to his crotch.
Oh my Lord.
Michael was hard under there.

Nicky grabbed Michael by the front of his jacket, meaning to push Michael away. Instead, Nicky yanked Michael closer.

Michael smelled woodsy and clean but with the sharp edge of some kind of cologne. Funny he wore it. Polar-fleece-wearing guy like him seemed like the kind to hate perfume.

“I’m not unzipping anything until you do,” Michael breathed in his ear. His lips teased Nicky’s neck, and he toyed with Nicky’s fly. As promised, Michael didn’t pull it down.

Nicky fumbled his way along denim, searching for the sharp metal of a zipper and finding only buttons. Sparse belly hairs tickled his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Michael whispered, his lips tracing the shell of Nicky’s ear, his breath roaming into Nicky’s hair. “Like that.”

Nicky popped open the buttons. Right there, demanding attention, was Michael’s cock. It was narrow, but longer than Nicky’s, as evidenced by the cap threatening to push right past Michael’s waistband.

He maneuvered his way into Michael’s underwear, feeling warm and humid skin and crinkly hair. Then there was nothing but a heated shaft, seemingly made for Nicky’s grip.

Michael was going to kiss him. Nicky jerked his head back, but only managed to scrape his scalp on the tree.

With a slant of his head, Michael’s lips were on him—hard and rough with stubble around the edges. When Michael pressed his tongue inside, Nicky wanted to growl, but he wasn’t sure whether he’d be doing it in anger or pleasure.

In a rush, Michael got Nicky’s cock out. For a second, Michael’s prick brushed against Nicky’s like a wet, hot, lick. Then Michael took them both in his long-fingered fist.

For the space of a dozen strokes, Nicky closed his eyes and went with it, his attention laser focused on the too-good feeling of them crushed together, but then Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of something, and Nicky grabbed Michael’s wrist. “What the hell is that?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Michael bit open the perforated top. “I’m just getting my hand wet.” He squeezed jelly into his palm, chuckling a little at Nicky. “You gonna let go?” Michael cocked his eyebrows.

“Fine.” Nicky leaned back against the tree, his dick sticking straight forward. Fuck it. He was doing this. Wherever it led. Nicky needed Michael’s hand on him worse than he’d needed anything in a long time.

He closed his eyes. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Nicky looked like a live wire. Excited, rough and strong. For some reason, he let Michael take the lead, which had Michael a little confused and yet more turned on than he could remember.

“Good, right?” The lube was warm from his pocket, and it felt like sinking into a mouth.

“Oh God…fuck.” Nicky clutched him by the neck of his jacket and pulled him closer. This time when they kissed, it was Nicky dragging Michael in tight, moving under Michael’s mouth.

Michael wouldn’t have been surprised if Nicky had shoved Michael off when he went in for the kill. But it had been so damn long since Michael had tangled tongues with any man. He’d forgotten how much he loved the feel of breath on his lips. Better still was the desperate way Nicky kissed—lips hard and rough, his teeth scraping. For the first time since they’d started, Michael felt how powerful Nicky was—strong enough to throw Michael against a tree if he wanted. That made Nicky letting Michael drive all the sweeter.

Nicky rocked into Michael’s hand, his cap rubbing Michael’s in a steady
click, click, click
. When Nicky gasped, his cock spewed wetness all over Michael’s hand, and the slippery perfection made Michael crazy. He panted, his voice getting higher pitched since he was close. “Oh God.” He wished he were the one leaning against the tree, since his legs were shaking.

Nicky spun Michael so his back hit the bark, and slapped Michael’s hand away to jerk him with desperate pulls.