The Rebuilding Year (34 page)

“He’s off the critical list,” Carstairs said. “A gut wound can be tricky, and recovery won’t be fast. But I hear he has a good chance. We haven’t been able to talk to him yet, though. It’ll be a couple of days, I guess. At this point, there’s no big rush.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make the identification,” Mark said. “It’s just, the light was bad and I was trying to hide.”

“No sweat, kid,” Francis said. “Yeah, it would have tied things up with a bow, but it looks like this will go cold anyway. You did the right thing staying out of sight instead of looking at Crosby. And then you called in the fire. You probably saved the college a couple million in additional damages, by getting the fire crews there faster.”

“Ryan called them. I just called my dad.”

“Whichever. You all did good.”

“So you’ll have to stop looking at John as a suspect,” Ryan said.

“He was never a serious candidate.” Carstairs turned to John. “Everyone I talked to about you says you’re a Boy Scout—helpful, honest, kind and courteous. It’d be almost sickening, if you weren’t such a nice guy.” She smiled at him and Ryan. “So, that’s where we stand. This photo lineup was my last job for the day—meaning yesterday. Now I hear a soft pillow calling my name. Tomorrow I’ll be writing more reports until the cows come home. You all have a nice day.”

John put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder to keep him seated. “I’ll show you out.”

Ryan eyed Mark as the detectives made their way to the door. “Any plans for the rest of the day, Mark? You want to pick out something for dinner?”

“Actually.” He turned to his father as John came back in the room. “Is there any chance I could go in to campus for a couple of hours?”

“To…?”

“The other guys in the band want to meet. We need to talk about what we’re going to do while Patrick is recovering and stuff.”

And he wanted to talk about the events of the day before with his friends, Ryan figured. It would be good for him, to start to turn a nightmare into an adventure. “You gonna go look at Smythe Hall?” he asked. When Mark hesitated, Ryan added. “I’d be curious.”

“Yeah, I figured I would.”

“From now on, when the guys talk about scary stuff they’ve done, like hang gliding or whatever, you’ll be able to say, ‘That’s nothing. I climbed out of the sixth floor of a burning building on a short makeshift rope. And then I went back inside.’”

Mark gave him a crooked grin and then sobered. “Only because you told me it was safe. You said I could do it. When you came through that wall of flames for me…God.”

“Adrenaline,” Ryan said. “Once a fire junkie, always a fire junkie.” He could see from Mark’s skeptical stare that he wasn’t buying it. “Okay, it was pretty scary for me too. But sometimes you just do what you have to.”

“You’re not my real dad,” Mark said softly. “You didn’t have to.”

Ryan stared at him. “Yeah. I did.”

Mark blinked and turned away. “So, Dad, can I go?”

“I guess so,” John said.

“And I’ll hang out there for a while. Because then you and Ryan get a couple of hours to…snog or whatever.”

“We what?”

Mark colored. “Look, I don’t want to know about it, okay? But even I can see that you and him, you just fit. Like for years now with you and Mom, there was always space between you. But with Ryan there’s not. So you should be together. It’s stupid for you to have to be all distant when I’m around, and for Ryan to sleep in the guest room, and shit. I mean, I’m fifteen. I can handle it. I just…don’t need any details, okay?”

John laughed softly. “Okay.”

“So I’m gonna run up and get my guitar. Can you maybe drive me?”

“For two hours of privacy?” John laughed again and ruffled Mark’s hair when he blushed. Mark ducked past him and John said, “Sure. I’ll get my coat.”

Ryan was still sitting in the kitchen when John returned. He heard the truck in the drive, and thought about going upstairs and getting naked into bed. But he didn’t move.

John came into the kitchen and tossed his keys in the dish. His cheeks were flushed with cold, and his eyes sparkled.

“So,” Ryan said, “what did it look like?”

“Um, I drove past,” John told him. “The fourth through sixth floors look pretty gutted, but the structure didn’t go down. It’s a mess, though. Millions of dollars, I’m betting.” He hesitated then added, “The windows you used were both pretty burned out.”

Ryan nodded. “I figured.”

“God.” John came over and just sat down on the floor, his head in Ryan’s lap. Ryan ran his fingers through the curly auburn hair, rubbing gently.

“Hey,” he said. “A grey hair.”

“Sure. Kick a guy when he’s down.”

“You’ll still be hot with completely grey hair,” Ryan told him affectionately.

“You ever fucking do something like that rope trick again and they’ll all be white.”

“Let’s hope it’s never necessary again.”

John nodded, rubbing his cheek against Ryan’s thigh. “Have I said how grateful I am that you did it this time?”

“About a million times.”

For a long time they were silent. Just the clock ticking, and Ryan’s fingers winding through red, silky strands.

“Was it hard?” John asked. “To go in there?”

“Oh yeah.” Ryan was long past pretending he never got scared. “I stood there for a minute looking at the flames, and all I could think of was that beam coming down on my leg. And here was another burning ceiling. If it had been anyone but Mark, or you, I don’t know if I would have gone in. But in a way I’m glad it happened. Because I’ve been so twisted up in knots sometimes, wondering if I’d ever have the nerve to face a fire again. And now I know I can. And I know I don’t want to.”

“You don’t miss it? The excitement?”

“Nope.” Ryan shrugged. “When I joined the department, it was part tribute to David and part to serve and protect. But I think I also wanted the challenge, to face something that scared me. The adrenaline high. I don’t need that anymore. And being in a relationship, raising a kid, those are scary enough in their own way. Being a doctor, holding people’s lives in my hands? I’ll have enough challenges.”

“Mark really likes you, trusts you,” John said.

“I’m glad.”

“He said you were the only guy who could tell him to rope-climb out a window and he’d do it.”

Ryan laughed. “Given that he’s around college boys, that’s probably a good thing.”

“Uh-huh.” John rubbed his cheek on Ryan’s leg again, a subtly different motion. “You smell good.”

“Oh yeah?”

John’s mouth trailed over denim. “Clock’s ticking.”

“He won’t come home until you go get him. Which won’t happen until we’re done.”

“We’re doing something?” John’s teeth were working their way over the hard ridge in his jeans. But Ryan suddenly wanted something else.

“Stand up.”

“What?” John stood obediently.

“Here.” Ryan steered the man in close, standing between Ryan’s spread legs. He put his hands to John’s belt buckle, opening it slowly. John made a soft sound.

Ryan slid the tang free, pulled out the leather. The stiff button yielded to his fingers and he pulled on the zipper tab, inch by slow inch. John’s hands stroked his face, his neck. Pushing those jeans down was a chance to get his fingers into tight, firm ass cheeks. He squeezed, and John moaned. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“Not yet. Blinds are closed. We’re alone.” Ryan leaned in, drawing his tongue over straining cotton. A dark spot appeared on the fabric and he licked at it, tasting salt. “Mm.”

Ryan flexed his wrists, and John’s dick slipped free of the descending briefs, slapping against the side of Ryan’s face. Ryan turned to kiss it. He licked lightly, and then nuzzled in against the red curls, breathing in John’s scent.

“Don’t you want to…?” The end of John’s question was lost in a gasp, as Ryan deep-throated him with one swift motion.

Practice is a good thing.
Ryan pulled back up, sucking hard. John’s fingers caressed his hollowed cheeks. Two months had taught Ryan things about this man. He slid his fingers under, pressing behind John’s scrotum, and tasted the burst of slick precome across his tongue. John whimpered and jerked forward into his hands.
Oh yeah, so good.

He worked hands and mouth, sucking, sliding his tongue over and around, building John up. “Come on, Ry,” John gasped. “Let’s go up and sixty-nine.”

Ryan pulled free for a moment to say, “Nope. You’re mine.” Then he resumed his assault. His fingers stroked John’s soft sac, rubbing gently over his balls. He slipped one finger into his own mouth, stroking the tip of John’s dick as he did so. Then he slid that wet fingertip around and pressed on John’s ass. John groaned deep in his chest, and his hands went to Ryan’s hair. Ryan pushed his finger gently, insistently, gaining entrance. He found a rhythm of mouth and hands that had John vibrating between the two, whimpering his name.

Ryan lifted his mouth for a moment to look up. John’s eyes were blazing, his gaze fixed on Ryan’s lips, the cords of his neck taut. “Come on, baby,” Ryan said. “Come hard.”

He opened his mouth, tried to relax his throat. He pulled John in deep. Then John’s hands were digging in against the back of his head, and John’s hips thrust forward, and forward, fucking his mouth. Ryan stroked the man inside with his finger and hummed softly, trying to breathe, trying to open.
Yes, baby, yeah, give me all of it. Do me.

John groaned, and Ryan’s mouth filled with salty fluid. He swallowed, hiding a gag. He was still learning, and his throat was still sore. But he wanted this, needed it. He pulled off and licked John, sucking on his tip, trying to show how much this was for both of them. John’s shaking hands dropped to Ryan’s shoulders.

Ryan looked up. The fierce light in John’s eyes had turned warm and soft. “God, Ry,” he said. “You keep getting better.”

One corner of Ryan’s mouth tilted up. “Good.”

“Wow. Give me a minute and I’ll see what I can do,” John offered.

“No rush,” Ryan told him. “I want you upstairs, on your back.”

“That could be arranged.”

Ryan reached down and helped John pull up his briefs and jeans. He batted the thick, callused fingers away and zipped, buttoned, buckled. John stood obediently under his hands, smiling.

“There.” Ryan patted the fabric in the right spot to draw a sensitive breath from his lover. “All better.”

“Not sure I could handle better.”

Ryan stood carefully, ignoring the crutches that leaned against the spare chair. John’s hand went to his elbow, just a light touch of support. Ryan looked up into his face. And the phone on the counter rang.

“Leave it,” John said.

Three more rings and the answering machine picked up. “Ryan? It’s your father. I just… We haven’t heard from you in a while. I’ve called your cell but perhaps you didn’t get my messages? I don’t want to interfere with your life or anything but…maybe call me some time? Love you, Son.” The man hung up.

John eyed Ryan gently. “Still hiding from your dad?”

“Not hiding. I just… He worries.”

“So tell him you’re fine. You don’t need to give him details, if you don’t want him to know about us.”

“I will. Soon.”

“Look,” John said. “You think he won’t react well to me. So he doesn’t have to know. You don’t have to be out with your family. I can be just your landlord, for as long as you like. But he lost one son. You can imagine he likes to keep tabs on the rest of you. A brief,
Hi, I’m good, how ‘bout you
call won’t hurt you. Then we can go upstairs and play.”

“I don’t know.”

“Call him.” John held out the phone.

Ryan took it gingerly.

“Do you want me to go elsewhere?” John asked.

“God, no.” Ryan took one of the man’s big arms and wrapped himself in it. The other arm came round him nicely. He took a deep breath and dialed.

“Hello?” His dad’s voice was the same as ever.

“Dad? It’s Ryan.”

“Ryan? It’s good to hear from you, boy. Is everything all right? Do you need anything?”

Ryan winced. Obviously his dad didn’t expect casual conversation anymore. “No, I’m fine. Just wanted to talk.”

“Really?” He could hear a hint of disbelief. “Well, that’s good. That’s great. How are you?”

“I’m… Everything’s coming together, you know.”

“Tell me.”

“I know you’ve been worried about me,” he said. “And I haven’t called much.”

“You’ve had a tough year. A really tough year,” his dad said. “We understood.”

“A lot of changes,” Ryan told him. “But this, going to medical school, it’s right. I can feel it, it just fits.”

“You always were trying to bandage up your brothers, from the time you could tie a knot.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah. Whether they were hurt or not. I feel like I’m doing what I was meant to do.”

“That’s good. That’s important.”

“And something good is happening in my personal life too.” Ryan stopped.

“Really?” His father’s interest sharpened. “You seeing someone special, Ryan?”