Authors: L. A. Gilbert
“You want a Chevy truck so your dog can sit in the back,” he repeated. “Okay. How big is your dog that it requires a truck to get to the beach?”
Kieran chuckled, looking at him. “Speaking of super cute.” He leaned forward and pulled Drew into a hard kiss. When they pulled apart, Kieran couldn’t help but reach out to touch Drew’s flushed cheek, cupping it almost. His thumb stroked over the light stubble on Drew’s cheek, and he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You are so adorable,” he murmured quietly.
Kieran tugged at the front of his T-shirt, pulling Drew back. “Uh, yes, you kind of are.” He sighed into the kiss, loving the fact that they slid into it with such familiarity and ease. He loved kissing Drew, he always had, but now that they were together, legitimately together, it was with a sense of ownership that never failed to turn Kieran on.
This had become
their
place. Not the storage cupboard, but this car. Intimately, they hadn’t moved much past what they’d experimented with in the art storage room, and Kieran knew he would be reluctant to do so in a car—as was Drew, he was sure. This was something, however, that he wanted to change. High school was coming to an end, and though he couldn’t really bear to think about it, so would his relationship with Drew. But this was something both he and Drew knew and had discussed before getting so tangled up in each other, and so he knew they’d deal with it when the time came. For now, he wanted Drew. He wanted his every first, his every new experience to be with Drew.
He was ready to all but climb into Drew’s lap when the headlights from a passing car spilled through the windshield, causing them to pull apart. He shot Drew a sheepish glance and settled back in his seat. “I didn’t realize it was getting dark already.”
They swapped seats and buckled up, and Kieran watched as Drew slung one arm over the back of his seat—his hand brushing the back of Kieran’s neck while he reversed—then turned and drove out of the vacant car lot.
Drew leaned forward, dipping his head to look up at the sky. “I wanted to show you somewhere before it got too dark. It’s, um… it’s my favorite place. I go there all the time with my uncle when he’s home, and we throw a ball about sometimes.” He looked at Kieran. “It’s just a park, but it’s always kind of quiet and deserted—just a few dog walkers, you know?”
“It’s not far from school, actually. But I always go there when I want to be alone or need to think.” He winced slightly. “That sounded kind of douchey.”
The sudden relaxed drop of Drew’s shoulders and the pleased look he shot him did all sorts of things to Kieran. He realized that it was important to him and suddenly felt touched that Drew wanted to share his little hideaway with him. “Are we going to play ball?” he asked, only half serious.
none of them. He didn’t have a favorite team and he didn’t understand the rules, but
this
he liked. It seemed like a pointless pastime, but he had to admit there was something satisfying about throwing a ball and then catching it in return.
Drew brought along two mitts, his own and a spare, and a baseball. They stood in a near empty clearing surrounded by a copse of trees at the back end of the park—which was indeed surprisingly close to school—tossing the ball back and forth. He never would have guessed how satisfying the simple activity would be. The
thwap
of catching the ball in his mitt, of pitching it back and of smacking his fist into his mitt, just like a guy’s guy, just like he’d watched Drew do a million times.
He had a few embarrassing false starts of dropping the ball or missing it altogether, and his throw had at first been… well, for
shit
. But Drew hadn’t made fun of him, and he supposed it was just something that eventually came naturally with practice, because here he was, playing catch not quite like a pro but no longer like a ten-year-old girl, either.
Drew caught the ball and groaned. He rolled his eyes before throwing it back. “Seriously, I get the sea theme, but the Squids?” He shook his head. “Our team name is so fucking lame.”
Kieran laughed. “Yes. Yes it is.”
“Aww, squids are cute.”
“Not they’re not. They’re gross.”
“Well, then maybe you should have gone in for football.”
Drew caught the ball, taking a few steps to the left and sticking out his arm to catch a crappy throw with absolute ease. He shook his head and threw the ball back. “Nah, I don’t relish the thought of getting pummeled, thanks.”
Drew caught the ball, but didn’t throw it back immediately. He grinned, his eyes narrowing, and threw the ball to him before slowly approaching Kieran. “Complaining, hmm?”
Kieran raised his fist to throw the ball and then warily lowered it again, seeing Drew approach with a look of pure mischief. “I don’t like that look.” Despite his words, he was smiling. “What are you doing?”
“Just seeing if I’d be any good at football. I mean, I’m no expert, but if this was a football game and you had the ball, I’m pretty sure I should be….” He frowned and clicked his fingers. “Oh yeah.” He left it at that and charged.
Kieran let out a squawk that was a mixture of panic and laughter. He took two stumbling steps backward, his hands held out in defense. “Here!” He quickly threw the ball away and watched it bounce into the tree line. He looked back just in time to brace himself as Drew took him down.
They both grunted and landed in a heap of breathless laughter. They lay that way for a few moments, getting their breath back, but eventually Drew lifted himself up on his arms, keeping Kieran trapped where he was.
“Dude, you calling me fat?”
“I’m calling you heavy, jerk.” He laughed.
Drew grinned, cast a look around them, and then dipped his head for a quick kiss before lifting up off of him. Kieran instantly missed his weight but took the hand offered to him. He was pulled up so abruptly he more or less fell into Drew’s arms, and didn’t bother to check they were alone before pulling Drew close by the opening of his team jacket and kissing him. “You can tackle me any day,” he murmured against Drew’s lips, his own pulling up into a grin.
Drew bit his lip, trying not to smile, and playfully moved in for a kiss but then pushed Kieran away. He pointed toward the trees. “Go get my ball.”
“Spoilsport,” Kieran grumped, and took off in a light jog toward the trees. He scanned the floor, kicking at the leaves. He rubbed his arms, feeling goose bumps. His jacket was at home and the temperature dropping slightly now that it was getting dark.
Spotting the ball, he crouched and tried to reach underneath a rickety-looking old fence that was in the way. He supposed it must have been from the previous layout of the park, years ago, and could see the ball settled on a walking path that was now overgrown. Unable to reach the ball, he stood, planted one hand on the gate, and hopped over. Immediately he hissed and brought the soft flesh of his hand, just beneath his middle finger, up to his mouth. Inspecting it closer, he saw what he thought might be a splinter. He shook his hand, bent to snatch up the ball, and took extra care when climbing back over the fence.
“Let me see.” Not waiting for a response, Drew took Kieran’s hand, bringing it close and then farther away to try and see better. “I think you’re right. Want me to squeeze that sucker out?”
Kieran snatched his hand away. “What?
No
.”
Drew grinned, reaching for his hand again and laughing when Kieran evaded him. “You know what happens if a splinter’s left in there to fester, right?”
“Nothing. Nothing happens. Stop it.”
“You could lose the whole hand.”
“I’m kidding.”
“I know that. I’m not retarded.”
“No, Kier, that could get infected. Let’s go back to the car; it’s getting dark now anyway.” Drew took his wrist to pull him along but stopped when he met resistance. Kieran was pouting at him. “You are such a baby,” he said softly, almost fondly.
“Are you cold?”
“A little. Stay away from my hand.”
Drew bit the inside of his cheek. “You want my jacket?”
Kieran lowered his hand and a bemused, almost shy smile tugged at his lips. “Your jacket? How very eighties of you.” He felt something warm curl up in his stomach when Drew actually flushed.
“Okay.” Kieran bit the corner of his lip. “I do want your jacket,” he admitted quietly, and looked up at Drew through his lashes, feeling kind of shy and dumb.
“You won’t be cold?”
“Nah. Got more muscle than you, don’t I?”
Drew tucked his hands into his jeans pockets and dipped his head as his shoulders lifted; he nodded toward where his car was parked. “Let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
“I do.”
“Then why do you always come pick me up in your car now?”
“It’s my mom’s car, really. And… uh,” he laughed uncomfortably, glancing at Kieran. “Well, privacy.” He tilted his head. “For us.”
Kieran felt himself flush and hunched into the jacket both for warmth and to hide his pleased grin. There was that. Drew’s car had certainly seen more action—still virgin-like action but action nonetheless—in the last month than it probably had in the last ten years.
Kieran shrugged. “He seemed determined to do it himself; he just tends to not follow through with stuff like that.” Or much of anything else. They hadn’t really spoken since their last argument, and he was pretty sure it had slipped his dad’s mind altogether. He felt more resigned than anything. “Honestly, that’s just kind of the way he is.” He frowned, knowing he’d usually be unwilling to admit this to himself, but for some reason he felt comfortable to admit it to Drew. “I think his intentions are always good, he just lets us both down a lot.”
Kieran shook his head, eyes trained on his shoes. “No. But I guess that’s okay. I mean, I think that’s the way he wants things between us now so….” He shrugged. “It’s a shame, but it isn’t like I’m not keeping a few secrets of my own, you know?”
“Not a bit. He’s not around enough to suspect anything, I think.” He toyed with the sleeves of Drew’s jacket. “I haven’t even told him about Sacramento.”
Drew shot him a glance. “Sacramento?”
He nodded. “American River College. I got accepted.” Drew stopped walking. “But—but that’s so far away.” “A long, long way away, yeah.”
“And you really don’t want to go anywhere more… local?”
Suddenly desperate to avoid Drew’s gaze and the doubts it filled him with, he shrugged and looked away. “At the time it seemed perfect. Now… I was thinking that it might even do Dad and me some good. Maybe it’ll make him miss me.”
He started to walk again and a moment later Drew was at his side, eyes on the ground and quiet. Kieran nodded to the baseball Drew palmed between his hands. “You know, I don’t even remember the last time I played catch with the old man.”
Drew was quiet for a few moments, glancing away, scratching the back of his head and letting out a deep breath. He was quiet for so long that Kieran thought he wasn’t going to answer at all. “My dad… he’s, uh, he has this other family now.” He looked at Kieran. “Other kids. He doesn’t really call me all that much anymore. And when I call him he’s too busy to come to the phone.”
Kieran frowned sadly, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say. He thought distantly that this should make him feel closer to Drew, and in sharing these small, painful details, he did, but it wasn’t because of their similar situations. He wasn’t quite sure how to put it into words, but then Drew went ahead and did it for him.