Devin gestured to Flix and to a rusty sign above his head. “He pointed at the sign.”
Joe skipped back a few paces and read. He was headed the wrong way. Flix was on the right path. Joe tapped Peter’s shoulder, and they hurried to catch up.
***
“No!” Devin cried out, but he couldn’t make his feet move. In the distance, Marcus reached out as blood bloomed around the gaping hole in his chest. Devin screamed, and Marcus turned into Flix begging for help. And then it was Joe, blood covering his hands as he clutched his chest and collapsed onto the carpet in Devin’s old house.
Devin jolted upright and winced as his brain banged against his skull. His headache wasn’t going away. It had started about the time of the funeral — which had been what, a week ago? — but it hadn’t seemed like too big a deal when compared to everything else that had happened. He hadn’t even told Navarro about it before leaving Purcell.
Something warm brushed his wrist, and for a moment, Devin was back in his nightmare, staring down at Joe as he died on the same spot where Tanner had. But then Devin’s vision cleared, and it was only Flix lying next to him, whole and safe.
Devin traced the long scar that marred Flix’s face. Not so whole, then. He looked around the room in the pale moonlight, remembering how they’d come upon this vacant house in Asscrack, O’Klansas and decided it was a good place to stop for the night. Aria was squished into a corner, sleeping sitting up. Peter was burrowed so far into his sleeping bag that Devin couldn’t see any part of his head.
Joe was across the room, sitting against low, built-in wood cabinets, his legs stretched out in front of him, rifle at the ready, staring at Devin.
Devin untangled his wrist from Flix’s hand and tucked Flix’s arm back into his sleeping bag. He stood and moved over to Joe, who watched him the entire time. When he got close, Joe rolled his head to the side and looked up at him, all big eyes and sharp jaw, full lips and long, lean neck. Devin kicked Joe’s feet together and straddled his legs, sitting up high on his thighs. He palmed the side of Joe’s neck and used his thumb to nudge Joe’s chin higher.
He should have words for this, why he wanted to devour Joe, needed to touch his skin and feel his pulse race. Some raw human desire. Nothing came to mind, though, except the certainty that the need would never fade.
Joe didn’t mention the nightmare, though no doubt he’d witnessed it, and Devin was grateful. Words weren’t the comfort he wanted.
He dipped his head and caught Joe’s lips in a kiss. Fuck, the warmth of him. The feel of his lips. The slick of his tongue. Cool, nimble fingers skating up Devin’s stomach and ribs. Palms scraping across his chest. Devin hummed his pleasure and smoothed his thumb over Joe’s neck, pressing against the base of his throat. When he followed his thumb with his lips, Joe inhaled sharply.
“Joe?”
Peter’s voice sounded timid and a little scared, but Devin couldn’t help wanting him to shut the hell up and go back to sleep. Devin didn’t stop loving on Joe; he just moved to the side of Joe’s neck and nuzzled the soft skin there.
Joe patted Devin’s thigh and whispered, “Wait.” Louder, he said, “I’m here, Peter. What is it?”
From what Devin could tell, Peter was shuffling around in his sleeping bag. Devin pictured his sleep-tousled hair and clueless expression.
“I just... I had a nightmare, I guess. I wanted to make sure you were here.”
“I am,” Joe said. “Do you need anything else?”
Silence. Then, “Are you and Devin messing around?”
Devin shifted so he could peek over his shoulder. “Shut up and go back to sleep, Petey.”
“Gross.”
“Take it into another room, Romeo and Juliet.” That was Aria.
Fabulous. More of an audience. Devin’s headache throbbed. He whispered, “I hate these people” at the same time as Peter said, “No! Don’t leave!”
Joe nudged at his chest until Devin moved and sat next to him. “I’m not leaving the room, Peter, and both of you, if you don’t like me and Devin together, tough.”
Hearing Joe tell the others to fuck off eased one of Devin’s worries. New America didn’t seem any friendlier than Texas had been, and as excited as Devin was to go north, maybe learn about himself and his family, he feared that the northerners’ prejudices would drive a wedge between him and Joe. He didn’t want to find a missing part of himself only to lose the one person who mattered to him.
Joe threaded their fingers together, and Devin raised their hands to kiss Joe’s knuckles. He wasn’t being fair. Peter’s nightmares seemed to have morphed from what had happened the night he’d been kidnapped and his parents killed to what had happened to Sadie and Marcus. Peter relied on Joe for his safety, so it was understandable that he’d need Joe around in order to sleep.
Hell, the nightmares affected all of them. No one talked about it during the day, but none of them were sleeping well. Devin wanted to hate Aria, but her sleep-soaked whimpers broke his heart. Even Joe tossed and turned. But the worst was waking up every morning and seeing Flix lost and aimless. Losing a brother you loved was hell. Devin had grieved alone for Tanner because he had no choice, but Flix had them, had Devin, and was still going it alone. Flix would crack. Eventually, the strain would be too much to carry all by himself, and he would need a friend.
For now, though, Devin wanted to take care of his own needs.
With his free hand, he cupped Joe’s jaw and angled his head so their lips would meet. Sitting on his lap had been better, a nicer angle, but this was good. They could be quiet. Devin didn’t need sex,
