When Joe had dressed, Flix clasped his hands in front of his own too-happy dick and looked up. “How did you do that crawling over the counter and under the faucet thing?”
Joe shrugged and showed off a set of gorgeous white teeth. “I scooted on my ass. It wasn’t that hard. You’re tiny enough that it should be even easier. Mind your back, though.”
“Can you, um...” Flix gestured toward the other side of the room. He couldn’t think of any way to get the soap off besides what Joe had done, but he was not crawling around on the counter, sticking his erection up in the air, not unless Joe was nowhere near him. With his luck, his dick would get stuck in the end of the faucet.
“Oh, sure.” Joe cast a pointed look at Flix’s hands. “Didn’t realize you were so shy.” He walked away, into the cafeteria, and kept his back to Flix.
Flix was so not shy. About anything. Ever. Usually. Except the whole “naked in front of his one true love” thing. That. He rolled his eyes at himself and climbed onto the cold metal counter. He put his feet in the sink and rinsed them, then scooted and twisted and almost fell off, but managed to slide his body under the water a little at a time. He couldn’t turn off the water while he was under it, so he ended up with a face full of the stuff. He spluttered and coughed, but thank God, Joe didn’t come check on him.
After Flix freed himself, he slid off the counter, turned off the water, and waved his arms and legs around, trying to dry off some. He was jiggling his right foot when a door slammed.
He grabbed his clothes and ducked behind the row of cabinets opposite the sink.
“Afternoon,” Joe said. His voice sounded lazy and unconcerned enough that Flix almost stood up.
“Who you?” A deeper voice. Older, probably.
Flix slipped into his shirt and stuck his feet through his jeans. He fell over twice, but he managed to get them pulled up and fastened without coming out from his hiding spot.
“Traveler. Just finishing up with a bit of water.”
Flix poked the top of his head over the counter. Two men and a woman stood fifteen feet from Joe, watching him like they’d never seen another human before. Their hands were empty, and their filthy clothes hung loose on bony frames. A rare surge of appreciation for Abuela Carmen and even Flights of Fantasy zoomed through Flix’s brain.
“You’n look young,” the second man said. Even from this distance, Flix spotted his rotted teeth. “You got a momma witch you?”
“I’m almost twenty. Mom’s dead.” Joe’s back was straight, and his hands were in his pockets, where that VICE-shot would be. “What brings y’all here?”
Flix doubted Joe had ever said “y’all” before in his life. He was too educated, too slick. The trick made sense, though. Why give these people any reason to suspect Joe was different?
“Getting us some water, too. You’n a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” The woman didn’t sound like she thought that was a good thing. Her lip had curled in a bit of a sneer, but she also seemed fascinated with Joe. She took a step closer, close enough that Flix made out the blisters on her face. “Why you’n got no sun damage?”
“I stick to the shadows, ma’am. Y’all here for the water?”
“Back up, Leezy,” the deep-voiced man said. His dark skin shone like he’d been the one to bathe under the sink. “Less let the little feller scat. We got stuff to take care’n.”
“Sure,” Joe said. “My brother an’ me were just leaving.”
Flix scrambled out from behind the cabinets, grabbed the backpack and the water jugs, and walked to Joe’s side like he wasn’t about to crap his pants.
The strangers watched Flix’s every move. On the bright side, if they were armed, they’d probably have drawn their weapons when he came out of the kitchen. On the darker side, they all looked between Flix and Joe like something was wrong.
The lady’s expression soured even more. “You two’s brothers? Why you so...white, pretty boy? You’n lying about this boy being your brother, an’ taking ’vantage?”
Flix barked out a laugh. It just slipped. Joe was seriously closed off, but Flix did know Joe’s momma had been Mexican. Flix had exactly zero Mexican blood. The idea that these people were worried Joe was a white man taking advantage was so ironic. “Sorry, miss...”
“Lisanne, but folks call me Leezy.”
“Miss Leezy.” Flix poured on his best “sweet, innocent me” smile, the one that had usually made the clients at Flights of Fantasy fuck him a bit gentler. “My brother an’ me got different dads. His split, but he’s been my brother all my life.”
Joe had stiffened next to Flix, but now he threw an arm around Flix’s shoulders. “He’s a good kid. Well, we best be going.”
“Wait.” The deep-voiced man held up a hand. “Want to show you something.” He reached in his back pocket, and Joe and Flix tensed as one. All the man pulled out was a piece of paper. He unfolded it, looked at it, and turned it around. “You boys seen this man?”
Flix didn’t think twice about touching Joe this time. The picture was of Devin.
FOUR
Joe crunched over the highway. The pavement here had crumbled, leaving behind gravel and dust. The wind whipped his hair and threatened to dislodge his vision shields, not that they mattered all that much for sight. With all the dust swirling in the air, he could barely see a few steps in front of him.
