Something Like Thunder (18 page)

Caesar kicked the covers down enough to slip under them, still pulling on Nathaniel, reluctant to release him. “Lay down,” he whispered. “Turn around.”

Nathaniel felt puzzled as he did so, stretching out on his side while facing the far side of the room. A moment later, Caesar slipped an arm around his chest, pulling him close. The body pressed against his was warm. Comforting. He leaned into Caesar and allowed himself to bask in the sensation. He felt the reassuring beat of another heart against his back, listened to the calming sound of breathing as Caesar’s lungs filled and emptied.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Nathaniel wasn’t. Not right now because all the pain he had been through, all the hard truths he had just learned, convinced him of one thing: He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. Regardless of what it took, his time with Caesar wouldn’t end badly. They wouldn’t be separated, wouldn’t lie to each other, no matter how good their intentions. Nathaniel would do everything in his power to see them through to their happy ending. He pulled on Caesar’s arm to draw him even closer.

“I love you,” Nathaniel said, not taking another breath until the answer came.

Caesar placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. “I love you too.”

* * * * *

“I wish there was something I could do,” Rebecca said.

“It’s fine.” Nathaniel met her gaze in the bathroom mirror. This was an awkward setting to have this conversation, but they had work to do in here.

“It’s not fine,” she said, calling his bluff. “I can see from your face that you’re hurt. I wish I had a magic spell to bring him back to life for you. Or at least make it possible for you to speak to him.”

“I think I’d rather forget the truth.”

“
Obliviate
,” Rebecca said, waving the hair clippers like they were a magic wand.

“Sorry,” Nathaniel said. “Even J.K. Rowling can’t fix this mess.”

“He must have family. Have you tried tracking them down?”

“Sort of.” Nathaniel turned around to face her and leaned against the counter. “I keep calling my mom with questions, and each time I do, I regret it. Victor’s dad ran off when he was young and she doesn’t know his name. Something ending in Hemingway, presumably.”

“That was Victor’s last name?”

He nodded.

“Nathaniel Hemingway. Sounds poetic.”

“Sounds like somebody else, not me. Anyway, Victor was close to his mother. I found her on the Internet.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. In an obituary from a few years back.”

“Oh.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath. “The only other family my mom knows of was his cousin. Last she heard, he went to prison for sexual assault. I haven’t tried finding him. I’m not sure I want to talk to someone like that.”

Rebecca grimaced. “I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah. That one stuck with me. Makes me wonder where exactly I come from. To be totally honest, I don’t feel like I know who I am anymore.”

Rebecca cocked her head. “You’re the same person you were before you found out the truth.”

“Am I? I have family I’ve never met. My real dad probably had a mental illness, and at least one member of his family is a criminal of the worst variety. What does that make me?”

“Remember my Aunt Teresa? The one with the huge collection of clowns? Clown paintings, clown plates, clown figurines, and that terrifying mannequin head that she bought a wig and makeup for to make it—come on, say it with me now.”

“A clown,” Nathaniel droned with a wry smile. “What’s your point?”

“That I don’t like clowns. She’s family, but we have jack squat in common. Hell, neither of my parents like to read, which drives me bonkers. I don’t know where I get that from, and I don’t worry about it because they aren’t my identity. I appreciate that they donated their genes to me, but I’m my own person.”

Nathaniel frowned. Then he nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I still wish I had some way of connecting with him, just to see what kind of man he really was.”

“Which is why we’re here.” She held up the hair clippers. “You sure about this?”

“Yeah.”

“A mohawk? Really?”

“Yes!”

Rebecca shrugged. “Take off your shirt.”

“I bet you’ve been dying to say that.”

She held up the clippers like they were a weapon, prompting him to hastily apologize, even though taking off his shirt really did seem to improve her mood. Then he sat on the toilet seat so she would have an easier time buzzing the sides of his head. He often kept his hair short, so he wasn’t too worried about the procedure. The top was long enough that, once she trimmed it with scissors, he would have a decent strip of hair sticking up in the middle.

He was eager for her to finish, feeling like this really was some sort of spell, like Victor’s ghostly image would appear in the mirror the second they were done.

“There you go,” Rebecca said, setting aside the scissors and brushing the shorn hair off his shoulders.

He stood to consult the mirror. He looked doofy. Nothing about him was punky enough to compliment this style. His hair wasn’t even the right color. His eyes darted to the photo resting on the counter—Victor holding his son’s hand distractedly. Then he returned his attention to the mirror.

“You’re definitely right. This isn’t who I am. Shave off the rest.”

Rebecca nodded approvingly. She grabbed the clippers and waved them as if some magic had indeed been worked. Then she turned them on and gestured at the toilet.

“Your throne awaits!”

* * * * *

“What happened to your hair?” Caesar was sitting on the loveseat in his room. After staring a moment, he tossed aside the video game controller and stood. “It looked better before.”

“You’ll learn to like it.” Nathaniel grunted. He grabbed Caesar’s hand and rubbed the palm against the short bristles of his scalp. The goose bumps travelling down Caesar’s arm were in plain sight. “You already like it.”

“Okay, maybe I do.” Caesar yanked away his hand and hurried to the bedroom door, which could only mean one thing.

“Don’t,” Nathaniel said. “Locking the door is too obvious. It isn’t safe.”

“It’s a lot safer than my parents walking in on us,” Caesar said. “Take off your clothes.”

“Keep your voice down,” Nathaniel hissed. “I’m serious. We need to be careful!”

Caesar appeared dejected. “Then how are we going to… You know.”

“I’ve been thinking about that lately.”

“Yeah, so have I!”

“Not like that.” Nathaniel reconsidered. “Okay, like that too. But I’ve also been trying to figure out how we can do it without getting caught.”

“I’m all ears,” Caesar said.

Nathaniel nodded to the bulge in his pants. “You’re all something. Remember what we did on the drive back down here?”

“Yeah. Fondly.”

Nathaniel smirked. “Well…”

Caesar managed to focus. “That’s not risky?”

“Not if we find a country road.”

“This is Houston, not Warrensburg.”

“Fine,” Nathaniel said. “Maybe we should take up hiking. The Wilderness Park has lots of secluded trails. Right?”

“That it does,” Caesar said. “So we can only do it outside from now on? You’re making me feel trashy.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I like it!”

Nathaniel shook his head. “You’re a bad influence on me. I used to worry the opposite was true, but of the two of us, I’m pretty sure you’re the most depraved.”

Caesar grinned shamelessly. “You have no idea.”

* * * * *

As much fun as they had turning the great outdoors into their own sexual paradise, they both became more frustrated as the weeks rolled on. Caesar snuck into the shower with Nathaniel once, an especially dangerous move considering how bathroom time in the morning was strictly scheduled. Nathaniel had lectured him over that, but only after giving in. He broke his own rules a few nights later by creeping down the hall to Caesar’s room. Neither of these events gave them much satisfaction, since they still rushed through the process, trying to remain silent all the while.

They both wanted more. Without freedom and security, they didn’t feel comfortable exploring new possibilities, despite discussing them often. They craved more than just a hurried blow job in the woods. A hotel would be ideal, but neither of them was old enough to reserve a room. Nathaniel was having dinner with his mother one night, toying with the idea of asking her to get one for them, when she inadvertently provided a solution.

“Your father has a business trip in Quebec this weekend,” Star said. “I’m going with him. Maybe I can escape this heat for a few days.” When she saw his longing expression, she misinterpreted it. “Would you like to come with us? You haven’t seen your father since—”

“No,” Nathaniel said. “I was wishing I could have the house to myself. Well, not
completely
to myself.”

Realization made his mother’s eyes light up. “You mean Caesar? Hoping for a romantic getaway of your own?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, why not?”

“You know why.”

His mother leaned forward. “I told you that Dwight hasn’t been home for weeks. He’s really serious about this new girl. He’s living with her now.”

Nathaniel perked up. “Really?”

“Yes! Come home for the weekend.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Come home for good.”

“Dwight’s relationships never last.”

“Then I’ll tell him he needs to find his own place. He’s too old to be mooching off us. Please. Just consider it. I miss you.”

Nathaniel couldn’t make any promises, but he looked forward to a trial run. His plan was simple. He asked permission to take Caesar camping, which Mr. Hubbard readily agreed to. On Friday night, Nathaniel went to the house to make preparations and to make sure it truly was safe. His mother hadn’t deceived him. He saw no sign of Dwight.

The next morning, after sleeping in, they loaded up his car with a tent, sleeping bags, and even a cooler of food, just for appearances.

“It’s sort of ironic,” Caesar said. “We really could just go camping. That would give us plenty of privacy.”

“But not a nice comfy bed,” Nathaniel said. “Besides, as much as you like to talk, we’d probably attract every park ranger in the county.”

“Communication is crucial to every relationship,” Caesar said solemnly.

As if to prove his point, Caesar talked during the entire way to the house. He only quieted down once they pulled in the driveway. This probably felt like another revelation to him, finally getting to see Nathaniel’s former home.

Nathaniel led the way to the front door, unlocking it and letting it swing open. He didn’t enter yet. Not right away. Instead he swept Caesar off his feet—literally—and carried him over the threshold.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Courtney,” he said. “We just got married. The reception was great, but we’re both eager to escape the guests and start our honeymoon.”

Caesar laughed. “What are you talking about?”

Nathaniel set him down. “This is your house now. Our house. For the weekend, anyway.”

“We’re playing house?”

“Yup.”

Caesar grinned. “I like it.”

“I hope so. Now go cook me dinner.”

“You’re living in the past,” Caesar said, shaking his head. “I might be the wife, but I’m also the breadwinner. I work long hours too, so you best be ready to rub my feet.”

“Fine, I’ll be the househusband. I already cleaned the place for you.”

That wasn’t entirely true, since his mother kept the place tidy. He
had
changed the sheets in his parents’ bedroom and whipped up a pasta sauce that was a little salty, but he hoped a heaping helping of cheese would disguise that.

He followed Caesar as he explored the house, watching him soak up every detail. Family photos interested him the most, at least until they reached the master bedroom.

Caesar bounced onto the bed with a naughty smile. “Ready for round one?”

“I thought we’d spend the day together first. Let the anticipation build.”

“And I thought we’d do it twelve times. At least.”

“Have fun,” Nathaniel said, walking out of the room.

Caesar followed, looking pouty, but he cheered up when they entered Nathaniel’s old bedroom. Then he got hyper, examining everything, asking a million questions, and even opening drawers and the closet door without permission. Nathaniel considered telling him to stop, but was flattered to have someone so interested in his life. They spent a long time exploring the house, skipping only Dwight’s room. Caesar insisted on peeking in the door, but that was it. Eventually they ended up in the backyard, where Caesar jumped on the normally ignored trampoline, even dragging Nathaniel onto it with him. A movie next, then an early dinner, since they had skipped lunch. Caesar started making bedroom eyes afterwards, but Nathaniel insisted they go for a walk, wanting to feel less stuffed.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Caesar said as they strolled. “Either take me to bed, or I’m locking myself in the bathroom. Just don’t expect to have any lotion left when I come back out.”