Twenty-Six

Sacha

 

Except for senior citizens maneuvering RVs the size of small cities, the drive along Highway 20 had been fine. Nice, even. Seth was a good passenger; he didn’t talk too much, and he didn’t cringe or grab the door handle when Sacha got impatient and gunned his truck past the behemoth vehicles.

Late that afternoon, he found himself angle parking in front of a verifiably creepy roadside hotel outside of Winthrop, Washington. Seth had to stay there, as some famous writer from over a hundred years ago had been in town and then gone back east to write The Virginian. A book Sacha had never heard of.

Anyway, the hotel was named after it, although in Sacha’s mind it was closer to being a retreat for serial killers. He watched a middle-aged woman exit the office with a skeptical expression on her face. She got into her car and moved it a few spots down, where she promptly got back out, and an enormous yellow lab leapt out from the back. Together the two of them disappeared up the stairs of one of the “lodges.” He saw a curtain twitch on the second floor, and soon the dog was standing on the miniscule deck, panting and watching the goings-on below.

Seth came back out to the car. They were assigned to the lodge across from the woman with the dog. The room was entirely… not quaint. The walls, including the ceiling, were covered with dark wood paneling, creating a cave-like space. The ambiance was not welcoming; it ran more along the lines of “where to hide the body.” Two double beds were covered with tired grey comforters that matched the tired grey carpet. A tiny coffee pot sat next to a basket of bagged ground coffee. The coffee looked like it had been there so long the cleaners dusted it on a regular basis. Sacha ran a finger along the small table next to the sliding door; make that an irregular basis.

“Well, it’s not pretty, but it is cheap, so that’s a plus. A little too close to the hotel décor in The Shining,” Seth remarked, stowing his backpack under the coat hooks by the door. “I don’t care which bed is mine; take whichever one. Or we can share.” He waggled his eyebrows before disappearing into the tiny bathroom. Sacha heard the sound of urine hitting the water in the toilet bowl. Great, walls made of tissue paper, fucking wonderful.

Neither bed being ideal, Sacha chose the one closest to the door. By the time Seth emerged, he had his gear stowed away and was staring out at the river running behind the hotel property. It was flowing lazily in the summer heat; as he watched, several tourists floated by on inner tubes.

“I checked; the library is closed already, and so is the courthouse.” Seth told him that all the early records, any before 1959, were stored in the county archives located in the courthouse basement. The town of Twisp wasn’t large enough for such a structure, even to this day.

Sacha wasn’t going to admit to Seth he wasn’t focused on the reason for their trip. He was thinking about skin, scent, and the spot above Seth’s ass where it sloped into the small of his back. He found himself touching Seth with intent; he wanted to have his hands on him all the time. He’d caught himself absently doing it too, any excuse to run fingers along Seth’s back, touch his arm, lean in close enough to smell him. Back the Booking Room, the first thing he had done after immobilizing Jacobsen was check and make certain that Seth was safe. He often knew where Seth was without having to look, like Seth exerted a gravitational pull on his psyche.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Seth’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

They, meaning Seth, insisted on a walking tour from the motel, across the river via the foot bridge, then along the main street to check out the town. Outdoors was still sweltering; heat waves radiated from the pavement, making the buildings and figures ahead wavy and indistinct. The town was cute, Sacha supposed, although never in his life had he been a tourist. Town planners played up the Old West feel, maintaining wooden boardwalks and storefronts that looked like they’d been stolen from a Hollywood set.

And, fuck it all, the same pain-in-the-ass dumb-wits driving massive RVs seemed to have stopped to spend their disposable income in high-priced shops the locals probably couldn’t afford. Seth dragged him into a couple outdoor supply stores, a tiny bookstore, and a funky antique shop along their walk.

Sacha found himself smiling at the random conversations Seth struck up with shopkeepers and other wanderers. He was a natural at making people feel comfortable, drawing out their stories, while Sacha was an expert at avoiding that kind of thing. During the hour-or-so-long walk, Seth flitted from shop to shop, and Sacha followed along learning more about the man than he had in the previous weeks.

For all his curiosity and questions to Sacha, Seth was quiet about his own personal history. Sacha wondered if it was on purpose, or if it was his nature. He suspected that somewhere along the way Seth had learned to be careful about what he shared. Not the same as Sacha; he was reserved anyway, and a career in law enforcement had encouraged him to keep personal information out of the public sphere.

Seth, when he wasn’t cheerful or questioning, seemed… wary. It had taken Sacha a little while before he became aware of it. Seth was a natural at deflecting conversation away from himself, so it didn’t seem strange that he never fully answered questions or used one question to ask another.

Today was a gold mine of information. Seth had a weightlessness to him that Sacha hadn’t experienced before. Getting out of town had been a great idea. Seth had never had a pet—Sacha learned this when Seth scratched the head of an indeterminate, scruffy mutt that trotted out from behind the counter of an outdoor equipment shop—but he would like one. The dog’s tongue lolled out of its mouth as if the head scratch was the best thing he’d ever experienced. Sacha may or may not have had to squash a twinge of jealousy.

“The heat doesn’t bother me,” Seth answered a sales clerk. “I recently moved from Arizona.” Right, spring training. And yet their baseball conversation had mentioned nothing about Seth’s youth.

A very specific shade of blue was his favorite; Seth spotted it on a set of outdoor furniture that cost more than Sacha made in a month—if he were employed. They both stepped back like they might be fined for merely looking at it.

“Are you kidding me? I’d have to charge rent to my friends for sitting on this stuff!” Sacha thought his outrage was pretty funny.

Seth had a natural affinity for children, animals, senior citizens; even a fucking butterfly fluttering along in the breeze tried landing in his hair while they stood at the apex of another foot bridge on the far side of town.

Apparently he also drew reluctant, asshole, ex-law-enforcement types who should know better than to let their guard down. But Sacha knew it was already too late, and he was remarkably okay with that. Seth had slipped down the ladder into his life, and Sacha was going to do his best to keep him there.

The intoxicating hint of… something different, better, inviting, all vaguely Seth-like, crept into his consciousness—getting stronger each day. Laughter, quirky thoughts, the dark scent of earth and sweat from working in his yard or someone else’s. “Seth-ness” loitered on the edge of Sacha’s awareness, dragging him further and further out of his comfort zone.

Admittedly, that comfort zone was entirely unrecognizable these days. The habits that had supported him for the first thirty-eight years of his life were changing fast. He couldn’t fail at this, fail Seth. Provided, of course, that Seth was interested in something more than Sacha crashing on his couch.

At first it had been almost physically painful to change the habit of hiding his true self that had literally kept him alive until now… and he had a lot of work to do still. There was a pounding in his chest that increased when he even looked sideways at Seth; sometimes it made him dizzy, and he’d break out in a cold sweat. But with his eyes wide open, he welcomed Seth into his life. He’d been given a chance at happiness, finally, and fuck everything if he was going to waste it.

He suspected that, given what he did know about Seth’s history, things weren’t going to be simple. Oh, Seth played a good game with the lighthearted banter. Sacha knew better. Seth had a dark edge that he thought he hid. The few times they had spent the night together there had been nightmares Seth didn’t remember, or mention, in the morning. He talked in his sleep too; some was nonsense, but there had been a few instances where the words were loud and clear.

“Hey.” Seth put a hand to his shoulder. “You okay?”

And, yeah, Seth had that thing survivors had, where they were extremely attuned to others’ emotions.

“Let’s get some dinner.”

 

 

They headed back toward the motel, where a quaint log building housed a pizza place they’d passed by on their walk. Everybody in town must have had the same idea; the two of them barely managed to squeeze around a tiny table tucked along a wall of the patio. At first they tried sitting across from each other, but it soon became apparent that Sacha was going to need to move. The scrawny kid running pizzas and beer barely fit between the tightly packed tables.

Sitting crammed next to Seth was its own kind of hell. The heat, proximity, a crazy, fucked-up head; he craved the sensation of Seth’s body against his. Seth ordered them pints of a local IPA from the waiter. Sacha took a hefty gulp and focused on the bitter beverage instead of the heady desire fluttering in his stomach.

The restaurant was mostly young families on vacation, though there were a few couples like themselves with no children. The no-kid couples were all huddled as far away as possible from the families, who couldn’t seem to keep their kids at their own tables. Dogs were even allowed to sit under the outside tables, which Sacha thought was kind of crazy, but he wasn’t the one running around with food in his hands.

Two guys sitting at the table next to them were volunteer firefighters. He spent a few minutes eavesdropping on their conversation about the fire season—as well as watching them fend off what were clearly fireman groupies; two barely legal (if that) girls pounced as soon as they spotted them. The guys were good-natured about the attention, but it was obvious they were there for food, not for picking up girls on the prowl.

Another pair of men occupied the table to the left of Seth. They looked a little out of place amongst the rough-and-tumble of family vacationers; they radiated more of a businessman-type vibe, but he supposed even a town as small as this one had a population of folks who wore chinos and button-downs.

“So, I was thinking.” Seth interrupted his thoughts.

“Save me now.”

Seth laughed. “I was thinking we should go for a hike while we’re up here.”

“Aren’t there bears and other wildlife out there?”

“I can’t imagine a few bears would scare you off.”

“A few bears,” Sacha repeated.

“Okay, so maybe not a wilderness hike. How about we take a lazy river inner-tube trip? I saw a sign in the lobby.”

“I’ll think about it.” Who was he kidding? They both knew he would go on some goddamned float trip if that was what Seth wanted.

A kid dashed by, followed by a dad. The guy was laughing, trying to grab the toddler before it reached the end of the decking and face-planted in the gravel parking area.

“It’s always weird watching that.” Seth pointed his chin toward them.

“What? Why?”

“Well, theoretically I had a dad, but I didn’t know who he was until recently. I don’t think my aunt ever knew.”

The young father scooped up the toddler, waiting while the—Sacha and Seth both did a double take—other dad caught up to them, holding a little girl’s hand.

“Roland,” she stomped a tiny foot, “Daddy says we are supposed to wait!” Roland garbled some laughing nonsense back, causing the little girl to frown further.

Seth was quiet while the dads grabbed their kids in tandem and put them up on their shoulders before striding down the dusty roadside bumping their kids up and down, maniacal laughter following in their wake.

“And I sure as hell never had that.”

“What, two dads?”

“Family.”

Sacha was sure the beer Seth had downed had caused him to cross a boundary in his head. He’d never before talked about family or how he’d grown up. Sure, he talked about his clients. Sacha knew all about Mrs. Anderson and the cute guy (Greg?) who Sacha now wanted to murder, out in the county. But he knew nothing about how Seth had grown up.

“I mean, my aunt tried—and she was awesome—but there are some things a spinster aunt can’t substitute for.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, she was light-years better than my mom. I mean, at least Marnie didn’t try and sell me for drugs. Or, you know, have her ‘boyfriends’ over while I played trucks in a closet.” He chuckled, a bitter sound. “At Marnie’s I had my own room for the first time ever, and, well, I couldn’t believe it was mine at first. I slept in the closet for months before she could convince me that it was my own and we wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. Poor woman. I was a mess of a kid.”

Cold fury washed through Sacha, leaving him momentarily speechless. If at that moment Seth’s bio-mother had walked into the restaurant, Sacha didn’t think he would have been able to keep his hands from wrapping around her throat. She’d been given a gift and treated it like trash.

“What happened to your mother?”

“Oh, Jackie?” Seth looked up at him, eyes unfocused, or, rather, focused on the past. “Prison. As far as I know, she served her time and got out a while back. It’s not like I ever want to see her again… Why were we talking about this?”

Sacha nodded in the direction of the two dads and the laughing kids, now far up the road, the heat waves radiating upward making them soft and indistinct.

“Oh, right.” Seth finished his beer in one long gulp.

The waiter stopped by, interrupting the moment. Sacha felt the tendrils of Seth’s curiosity and knew he’d been about to ask a question, probably about Sacha’s own childhood.

The pizza arrived after they’d each had a second beer. It was perfect for the hot weather, the tangy IPA soothing his dry throat and helping him relax, tension receding under the onslaught of alcohol and general relaxation. Good thing Seth was left-handed, or the seating arrangement would never have worked. The waiter plopped their pie down, and the aroma of cheese, green peppers, onions, and sausage had them both moaning with anticipation. Seth winked roguishly at him before taking a huge bite. It was all Sacha could do to focus on his own slice.

“So, what else do you do, besides rehab old buildings?” Seth licked his fingers after finishing his first slice of pizza, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Yes, the alcohol had released Seth’s hold on his barely restrained curiosity.

“Oh, this and that.” Seth’s frustrated expression made him grin.

“Come on, throw a guy a bone.”

“I read, a bit. In fact, I’m pretty sure I went into law enforcement because of a Jack Reacher novel I read as an impressionable sixteen-year-old. Didn’t keep me from getting into trouble until I was old enough to enlist, though.”

“Yeah? What else?”

Sacha rolled his eyes, trying to come up with something that would satisfy Seth. Truthfully, he’d been pretty much married to the Marshals. “Honestly, I lived and breathed my job, which is one of the reasons I retired.”

“What were the other reasons?”

Beer loosened his tongue and weakened his hesitation over admitting the stark truth. “I realized I could die, probably sooner rather than later, and I would never get to live out. Never have a real boyfriend. I hate that word, by the way.”

The waiter interrupted again, bringing Seth a ruby-colored beer Sacha didn’t remember him ordering. He raised a questioning eyebrow. Seth responded, “A raspberry sour with local fruit.” He took a long sip, and Sacha’s gaze was drawn to the movement of his throat as he swallowed. “Mmmmm, delicious.”

Seth leaned closer so they were touching from shoulder to ankle; he smelled like spicy pizza and beer, the heat of the day emanating from his skin. Sacha sighed and admitted he was rapidly losing control of the situation, and maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

As if he’d had control in the first place.

A warm hand landed on his left thigh, first rubbing and then gripping his quad tightly, sending a throb of need directly to his groin. He gently moved it further from his crotch. Seth didn’t seem to notice where his hand had been straying; he was still rambling about fruit beers, sours versus ales, and the amazing variety of hops available in the Pacific Northwest. Far from any discussion of family or how, apparently, they had both had messed-up childhoods.

Sacha shook his head at himself, he was absolutely fucked. And… Seth was well on his way to being toasted. He was talking with his hands again, his irrepressible sparkle lighting the way for something equal inside Sacha.

They’d almost reached the stairs to their room when Seth jerked to a stop, pointing up into the night sky. “I love seeing all the different constellations here. I mean, they’re not that different, but enough…” He giggled. With a strength and determination Sacha was ill-prepared to resist, Seth grabbed his arm, and instead of taking the stairs they ended up behind the little lodge, swathed in almost-complete darkness. Below them the river was burbling. The temperature had dropped significantly, reminding Sacha they were at quite an elevation. The chill was a relief. Seth tugged him a little closer to the edge. The wide expanse of night sky draped above them was dusted with stars bright and dim. A blinking satellite drifted sedately across the starscape before it disappeared behind cloud cover, or it could have been the Milky Way. Sacha had no idea about stars.

Sacha was done waiting and wanting, needed more from this crazy person who’d fallen into his life. He leaned against Seth’s back, putting his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Seth’s shoulder, and looking up at the swath of stars spread out over them like a blanket.

Sacha pressed harder against Seth, soaking in his warmth. A rough thigh brushed against his; hips bumped against his own. Seth turned and wrapped his arms around Sacha’s waist. Sacha moved his head the smallest amount so his lips would touch Seth’s.

Sliding his hand under the fall of messy hair around to the back of Seth’s neck, Sacha pulled him closer still, barely allowing them room to breathe, plundering (fucking plundering) Seth’s mouth with his tongue. Sucking that lower lip into his mouth, nipping it gently, going back for more. Licking through Seth’s hot, hot mouth. Fuck.

It was an equality he’d yearned for. A hard, muscled body, slightly hairy, close to his own height, strong under his hands. Seth’s erection pressed against Sacha’s, and he shivered.

“We should get upstairs.” He stepped away from Seth’s warm body and roaming hands, missing them instantly.

“Yeah, okay. Good idea.” Seth ran his hand through his hair, which was longer than when Sacha had first laid eyes on him. “I think those beers were stronger than I realized.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Motioning for Seth to go first up the stairs, Sacha followed, enjoying the sight of Seth’s tight ass and athletic legs as he stumbled up the stairs ahead of him. He was there in case Seth tripped. And he would catch him if he fell.

 

“G’nite,” Seth said blearily before crawling onto the bed he had claimed and lying facedown, his head mashed into the pillow. Seth was asleep in moments; he hadn’t bothered to take off more than his footwear and the shorts he’d been wearing. Soon enough light, rhythmic breathing drifted across the room. Sacha chuckled. Seth was a cheap date. After brushing his teeth and undressing, Sacha lay thinking in his lumpy bed for what felt like hours.

What Seth saw in Sacha was beyond Sacha’s ability to imagine. He ticked off the reasons why Seth shouldn’t want him as he lay listening to the chug of the ancient AC unit. His best days, such as they had been, were behind him. His body was scarred, dinged, battered—not attractive. He was an orphan mutt, didn’t have family to speak for him. He didn’t even have a job, an idea. On a good day… Sacha tried to make a list of positives, coming up with nothing. Christ, he was going silver, and it was happening fast. Made him look like fifty was his next birthday, not forty. He was short-tempered and impatient. Not partner material.

A soft snuffle followed by a quiet mutter drifted from the other bed. “Why’re you over there?”

Why was he?

Flipping the covers back, he got up and crawled in next to Seth’s warm body.

“Much better.” Seth turned so he could sling an arm across Sacha’s chest, and promptly fell back to sleep. Sacha stayed awake a few more minutes before following him.