By the grill, Kyle stood, determination so deeplyetched into his features that Matt would’ve laughed if he could. Hetook a step toward them. “Now don’t panic, guys. Let me see…”
As Kyle reached for him, Vic pulled away. He growleddeep in the back of his throat, but Kyle ignored the warning. “Letme take a look at it, big guy. I know first aid—”
When Kyle touched Vic’s wrist, Matt saw his lover’shand clench in an unconscious fist. “Kyle,” he tried, taking Vic’sinjured hand gently in both of his. “Let me take care of it. Isyour kit still in the bathroom downstairs?”
Vic’s growl filled Matt’s mind. There was anundercurrent of pain in his lover’s thoughts, just beginning toseep through the anger and adrenaline that had set off his power inthe first place. ::Just hush,:: Matt chided. Without words,he replayed a memory for Vic, one night years ago when Kyle had hada group of friends over to watch a movie, and the damn fool burnedhimself opening a hot bag of microwave popcorn. He’d pointed Mattto the bathroom off the kitchen, where he kept a stocked first aidkit, then spent the rest of the night trying not to smear burnointment on everything he touched.
By now the rest of Kyle’s friends were climbing outof the pool and drifting over to the table. Matt wanted to getaway—take care of Vic first, then let his own whirling thoughtsunwind somewhere quiet. The bathroom promised solitude, if nothingelse. “I’ll take care of this,” Matt said, leading Vic through thethrong of wet, scantily-clad male bodies that crowded around them.He held onto Vic’s fist as he guided his lover to the back door andthe relative safety within Kyle’s house. “We’ll be right back.”
As they passed the grill, Jordan looked up from wherehe squatted, changing out the empty gas canister for the full one.When he caught Matt looking, he raised one eyebrow and, in a voicebarely audible, said, “The grill didn’t do that.”
For one long moment their eyes met, and again Mattfelt irrational fear claw at the inside of his mind. ::Jordan,oh, God. Oh, shit. He knows. He knows.::
Then Vic’s soothing presence enveloped his thoughts.::What’s he going to say?:: Vic reasoned.
::And besides, who’d believe him anyway?::
* * * *
Inside Kyle’s small bathroom, Vic plopped down on theclosed toilet seat and let Matt pull his hand into the sink. Withthe water on full blast, Matt cradled the hand in both of his,using his thumbs to gently rub over the dozen scratches andscrapes. He concentrated on the task and kept a tight rein on hismind, where wild thoughts bucked and pulled against his nerves,threatening to break free, race away, and drag him down withthem.
Beside him, Vic was silent. He watched Matt without aword, his own thoughts guarded behind those blue eyes that took ineverything around him and gave nothing back. Matt glanced at thoseeyes, hooded, unreadable, then turned back to the sink and the taskof cleaning Vic’s wounds. An odd time for his lover to decide tokeep to himself, Matt mused. What was Vic thinking? Then again,what could he say to change things now?
Once the blood washed away, Matt saw that the cutsand nicks riddling Vic’s skin were superficial. A patch along thetop of his palm was raw, the skin burned away, and when Matt wipedat the blood there, more bright red beads welled up. And there wasone tiny twisted sliver of aluminum stuck in the center of Vic’spalm, but with the help of a pair of tweezers from Kyle’s first aidkit, Matt dug it out before his lover could flinch. Turning off thefaucet, Matt wrapped Vic’s hand in a fluffy bath towel, careful ashe patted the wounds. The ghost of a smile flickered across hisface. “I think you’ll live,” he pronounced.
Silence.
Matt’s smile faltered as he turned toward his lover.“Vic—”
Pain dulled those bright eyes. “Matt,” Vic said, hisvoice soft between them. Inside the towel, he closed his handaround Matt’s with a comforting squeeze. “Don’t keep me out.”
“I’m not,” Matt said, surprised.
“Let me in,” Vic pleaded. He tapped on the side ofhis head and added, “I’m on your side here, Matty. I’m not the badguy.”
Too late, Matt realized that in his effort to keepJordan from his thoughts, he’d closed the mental connection heshared with his lover. No wonder it was so damn quiet in his head!With a conscious effort that felt like flinging a window wide onthe first warm day after a long, desolate winter, Matt relaxed hismind. His thoughts unfurled like sails filling with a stiff breeze,clearing out his emotions.
The moment his block was gone, Vic rushed in. Hislover chased away anything detrimental, anything bad. All thoughtsof Jordan disappeared beneath Vic’s psychic caress, and Matt felt awarmth fill him up inside, a love that made everything else palebeside it. ::There,:: Vic announced—still silent, hislips never moved, but Matt felt the word echo within him like thetoll of a bell. ::That’s much better.::
With a sigh, Matt sank down to perch on Vic’s knee.“I’m sorry,” he breathed as his lover hugged him back against hisbroad chest. “I’m just…God, Vic. Jordan. Here. What thefuck, you know?”
If Matt stopped to think about it, he wouldn’t findit such a surprise. He’d grown up in Chester, a small city about ahalf hour’s drive south of the state capital. He’d gone to collegein the northern part of the state, but didn’t enjoy living so closeto the madhouse that was D.C., so after graduation he compromisedand found a place in Richmond. Far enough away from his parents,who still lived in Chester, to consider himself “on his own,” butnear enough if he should have to go home, though he knew he didn’tvisit as often as he could. His parents were in their late sixtiesnow, and spent more time on cruise ships than they did at home.Matt knew he wasn’t the only one from his high school class whostill lived close by—every now and
