Against the wall opposite where they stood, the kitchen area gleamed in the afternoon sun, dirt-covered metal smudged and exposed by a few handprints. The pit of fear in Flix’s belly tightened. He’d seen people on the streets in Austin, even been approached occasionally. But the idea of running into someone here, in this tight, desolate building, sent ice prickling through his veins. Even Joe’s presence didn’t make him feel safe.
Joe jumped the barrier between the cafeteria and the kitchen, his ass and feet smearing the dirt as he went. Flix climbed up on the counter and crawled over, adding hand and knee prints to the metal.
He straightened when Joe turned on the water, the sound of it flowing through the faucet and pattering in the sink making him sway. His throat, which had been dry, grew parched, and he was desperate, dying for the water. He forgot his worries and hustled to Joe’s side. He stuck his hands out to catch the water and bring it to his lips.
Joe swatted his hands away. “We need to filter it. Turn around.”
Flix did, and from the backpack, Joe pulled out the two water jugs and the filter. He fitted the small silver filter over the mouth of a jug and placed it under the flow of water. Flix watched greedily as the water pattered into the container. He needed all his patience not to grab away the jug and down all the water. When the jug filled to capacity, Joe removed the filter, slapped it on the other jug and set it in the basin. Flix reached a hand toward the filtered water.
“Wait.” Joe took Flix’s hand and pressed it down. “We’ll drink from the second jug. That way we make sure there’s enough water for us and for Devin and the boys.”
Always, Joe thought of Devin. Sometimes it made Flix want to punch Devin. Even now, when Joe’s concern was completely understandable, jealousy crept into the edges of Flix’s consciousness. “There’s enough for everyone. We can take a drink now.”
“You’d take a chance like that with Marcus?”
No. Of course not. Flix would do anything to keep Marcus safe. Besides, he hadn’t endured Boggs’s cruelty only to let Marcus get hurt anyway.
So he stood by and watched the second jug fill. The water flowed as freely as it had the entire time, but the wait dragged. When the jug finally could hold no more, Joe turned off the tap, pocketed the filter, and offered the jug to Flix, who accepted it with shaking hands.
Oh, so good. Warm, slightly tinny, and so wet. Relief hit Flix like a bolt of lightning. No dying of thirst today. He chugged the water, let it dribble down his chin and chest as he swallowed, swallowed, swallowed. He’d finished off a quarter of the container when Joe pulled it away.
“Enough. You’ll puke it all out if you take too much.” Joe put the jug to his lips and gulped, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. He groaned and set the jug on the counter. “Do you want another small sip before I fill it again?” His voice sounded so much stronger.
Flix did, then Joe refilled the jug and set it next to the first one. He capped them both and pointed to a silver canister mounted on the wall. A small, clear, oval cutout showed it contained a blue-green liquid.
“Oh, yes.” Joe placed his hand under the canister and pressed up. A squirt of the liquid fell into his palm. He brought the liquid to his head and rubbed it into his scalp. He gripped his shirt and pulled it off, then turned on the water again and bent so his head dipped into the stream.
A thick lather formed between Joe’s fingers, and Flix listened to Joe’s pleasured moans and tried not to pop more wood. The guy’s back muscles tensed and stretched while he washed his hair, reminding Flix of the pulleys he’d read about in second grade. Joe straightened, water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders and chest, and collected another dollop of soap.
He nodded toward Flix. “Get cleaned up. Who knows when we’ll have the opportunity again?” Joe slid the soap between his palms, then scrubbed his face, neck, and chest.
Flix watched as Joe raked his fingers across his armpits. At Flights of Fantasy, they’d all been given shots to eradicate body hair. For the first time, Flix thought the company had made a mistake. Body hair on Joe would be... Flix pinched his inner arm to distract himself.
Joe dunked his face under the water and tilted his head, so the stream reached his throat. He repeated the awkward maneuvering to rinse his armpits but couldn’t quite reach his chest. He turned off the water and faced Flix. “I’m being a hog. Go on.”
Flix repeated the gesture he’d seen Joe make under the soap dispenser. The cool liquid tickled his palms and squished between his fingers. He ran his hands through his hair, enjoying the slick slide and the pressure on his scalp. He turned on the faucet and stuck his head under it. The water tumbled over him, filling his ears and running over his eyes and mouth. The pitter-patter of the water hitting the basin, along with the warm caress over his head, relaxed him in a way he hadn’t been in days, maybe weeks. He understood what had made Joe moan.
Reluctantly, he withdrew from the water and rested his forehead on the counter. He stretched and pinched his hair, wringing it dry as best he could, then turned his head sideways and gasped. “Holy shit!”
Joe had stripped balls out naked and was vigorously scrubbing the crease of his thighs. Flix stood like a statue and watched Joe manhandle his junk.
“Quit staring and wash up.”
Flix startled and got on with it, tugging off his shirt and pants and lathering
