Fault Lines Box Set

Chapter 5

Chapter 5“Are you going to act like a baby all day?”

Gabe glared at him from the driver’s seat, but Rory simply turned away and stared out the side window. He was pouting—like an actual child—and he damn well knew it. Yet try as he might, he couldn’t wipe the expression off his face. “I am not acting like a baby,” he mumbled.

Gabe slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Goddamn it! f**k it then! We’ll just go back home and forget it.” He reached for the key still sitting in the ignition.

“No. It’s fine. Let’s just get out of the car.”

Gabe did not get out of the car. He sat and stared at Rory with an expression made of stone.

Rory had completely pissed Gabe off. He wasn’t being fair, not even a little bit, and he was well aware of that as well. Still, he continued to pout through the window at the brightly colored flags snapping in the wind while he tried to work out the why of it. It wasn’t just that he hated this kind of thing. (A car show? Really? Like he would have any interest at all?) He couldn’t even remember the year and model of his own vehicle most of the time. Oohing and aahing over greasy parts, ghoulish jackets, and ridiculous T-shirts were the last things he wanted to spend a Saturday afternoon doing. But there was more to it than that. That he could have dealt with for the sake of Gabe. The truth of the matter was that places like this weren’t their kind of place. The last thing this group of story-swapping, backslapping good old boys wanted to see strolling around their clumps of iron and piles of scrap was Rory. Gabe could fake it; Rory could not. Every one of those guys, at every one of the events that Gabe dragged him to, seemed to have a gaydar that would rival the most seasoned gay person. Which Rory, apparently, managed to set off like a switchblade in a metal detector. And they didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Rory decided he wasn’t going to sit there and take the glares anymore, so he reached for the door handle. He didn’t make it out of the car. Gabe leaned over him and yanked the door closed before it had a chance to open more than an inch. “For f**k’s sake!” Rory huffed.

“Shut up.” Gabe was still leaning over him, a violation of personal space that always left Rory a little shaky—and not always a good shaky. Gabe was a big guy, and as much of a turn-on as that could be, it could also be overwhelming when Gabe was in the wrong mood.

“I get that you don’t like these things, and I’m sorry these people don’t live up to your standards, your highness.”

“That’s not…”

Gabe quickly reached up and pinched Rory’s chin between thumb and forefinger. “I said shut up. I told you I would go myself. I said you didn’t have to come. But that wasn’t good enough for you. ‘We don’t spend enough time together. I never get to see you. I have to sit in this house by myself all day.’ Blah, blah, blah.” The more he spoke, the angrier his tone got. “So fine, you come with me. Even though I know you’ll hate it. Even though I know you’ll act like a whiny b***h, I let you come. So, suck it the f**k up and at least try to pretend you’re having a good time, okay? I work with these people. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you, Mister I-Work-For-Myself, but I’m still going to need these people come Monday.” He let go of Rory’s chin. “Try acting like a man for once. At least for the next couple of hours, okay?”

As they got out of the car, Rory’s hand went to his chin and absently stroked it. What the f**k had that meant? Was he being too effeminate? He didn’t think he was…and what if he was? Why should that matter? Had someone said something?

Gabe stopped at the gate and waited for Rory to catch up. Without a word, Rory dug out his wallet to fork over the fifty bucks that would get them in. He held back the snarky thought that said the entrance fee was probably why Gabe had let him come in the first place.

They were barely through the entrance when Gabe pulled Rory to the side and down a pathway that led to the washrooms. He pressed Rory up against the concrete wall of the hut and palmed Rory’s face with a gentle touch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

Rory refused to meet Gabe’s gaze. Instead, he stared at the walkway. He watched a drying earthworm thrashing towards the grass. At the rate it was going, struggling, flailing, with dirt and stone clinging to the skin that should have been damp and moist, it would soon be baked into oblivion.

“Come on, Rory. Please try to understand.”

Rory looked up. What exactly did Gabe expect him to understand? He let the question hover in his eyes, unasked but obvious.

Gabe leaned, resting their foreheads together. “You know I love you.”

Tears started to sting Rory’s eyes, but he fought them back. No way was he going to pull tears. Not after those comments.

Gabe tilted up Rory’s chin and kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, friendly, light. Passionless. “Tell me you love me back.”

For a minute, Rory flashed back to his teens. To that first romance: the one hidden from friends and family because of the confusion and embarrassment about being so different from everyone else. Hiding after school under the bleachers or in the bathroom stalls so nobody would see. That’s what it felt like, pressed up against the washroom wall, hidden from the rest of the event, whispering like criminals.

“Say it.”

Rory almost choked on the words. “I love you.”

Gabe let him go. “Come on,” he said brightly. “The guys are going to meet us at the beer tent at three and I want to see if they have a seal kit for my dad’s truck first.”

Rory watched Gabe walk back up the path. Then he squatted and scooped up the earthworm. He dropped it into the grass. “You owe me one,” he told it.

* * * *

The afternoon had gotten hot. Rory had walked the open field for over three hours, pretending to look interested in pipes and blowers and God-only-knew-what as the heat baked down on his head and wreaked havoc on his skin. It was only May, and he was probably going home with sunburn. He’d stayed back, letting Gabe talk and poke around, making a point to laugh when everyone else did and nod whenever it sounded like Gabe was saying something smart. The ten-dollar pair of sunglasses he bought at one of the concession tables helped. Though they probably looked like s**t, they kept his blank, glazed-over stare well hidden.

The beer tent, though dark, damp and smelling just a little too rich in mold, seemed God-sent by the time they walked in. Rory sighed ecstatically and removed his sunglasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose and allowing his eyes to adjust to the darker space. Gabe was already on his way across the tent, summoned by a collection of men that encircled a table laden with empties, playing cards, change, and foamy beverages. Time to buck up and be a man some more, Rory silently told himself. Too bad he hadn’t known in advance—he would have practiced his hooting, hollering, and groping before coming out.

Gabe lifted his hand, four fingers in the air, and Rory’s sarcastic inner voice was almost loud enough to echo out of his ears. Oh, shall I get those for you, master?

He turned to the bar, frowning viciously, and met the eyes of the one person that could melt his cold, dead heart, even in this place. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Rory whispered, “are you literally everywhere?”

Danny grinned. “I go where the work is. They pay eighty bucks in cash for four hours of slinging draft, plus tips. How can you say no to that?” He slapped his hands together and gave Rory a pleased look. “Can I get you a beverage, sir?” He tilted his head towards Gabe. “Or was that four beverages?”

“Better make it five,” Rory said. “I doubt he thought to include me.”

“Oh, oh.” Danny lifted an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Well now, don’t you just make the perfect little bartender? Shall I grab a seat and fill you in on all my woes? Will you help me cry into my beer?”

“I would love nothing better, sir, than to watch you weep.” Danny set the plastic cups in front of them. “But not into your beer.”

“Rory!”

Rory spun and waved two fingers at Gabe. Could he not wait two minutes for Christ’s sake? He turned back to Danny. “Good thing they got you working in here. That sun would eat you alive. I think I’ve already got a sunburn.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Danny purred. “Do you need someone to dribble some ointment on it for you?”

“Maybe I do.” He looked down at the beer. “How much?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, normally I don’t charge my buddies. One of the perks of the job, you know? But that goon—” he nodded at Gabe “—is not my buddy.” He picked up one of the five cups. “So, this one is free. And it’ll be forty bucks for the other four.”

Rory gasped in mock outrage. “Ten bucks a beer? And for draft beer, nonetheless!”

“Take it or leave it, buddy. Move it on now, I’ve customers to deal with.”

Rory looked behind him and laughed. “There’s no one else in line.”

“Oh?” Danny drawled. “So, you are just standing around flirting with me. I knew it!”

“Oh, I could show you flirt—” The way Danny’s eyes narrowed made Rory all but bite his tongue off in an effort to cut his statement short. A hand fell on his shoulder.

A swaying, grinning stranger now held Rory’s shoulder, probably more in an attempt to keep himself upright than a gesture of friendship. “Hey, Gabe!” The stranger smirked at Rory, then across the way at Gabe, before leveling a cold, hard look at Danny. “Does your roommate know he’s talking to the town fairy?”

Rory wasn’t sure which word hit him harder, roommate or fairy. Either way, it was a solid double hit—one to the solar plexus, the other to his gut. His breath froze in his chest. His spine felt as rigid as steel, yet his legs felt liquefied. Say something, Gabe, he ordered silently. Correct him.

Danny’s expression was blank and calm. With a voice that was as even as his look, he reached out and plucked the half-empty glass out of the stranger’s hand. “You’re cut off. Get the f**k out.”

Rory was oblivious to the ensuing uproar. While a handful of guys jumped up from the table to argue drunk-dude’s sobriety, resulting in further expulsions from the tent, another handful of younger men jumped up to escort out the evictees. They were not a gentle bunch that forced and fought each other to the exit. Rory just stood, dumbstruck, and watched guilt, embarrassment, and unsurety play over his “roommate’s” face. It was so painfully obvious that it hurt—Gabe’s buddies had no idea that Gabe was bisexual. They didn’t know that Gabe lived with a man in the context of lover. Gabe had told them Rory was a roommate. A boarder. A glorified renter. For that matter, he probably leered at women with them, and said all the right things about s*x and boobs and the smell of their perfume.

That fucker.

His eyes found Danny’s. “Rory, I’m so sorry.”

Nope. No way. He wasn’t accepting sympathy right now. Not even from Danny. That would break him, and he wasn’t going to break down in front of these people. Rory turned. He walked out of the tent without looking back.

* * * *

Just get in the car, he thought, trying to soothe himself. Get in the car and drive away. His hands were shaking. Breathing hurt. But that’s what he got, after all. That’s what happened when somebody was a lying, sneaking, good-for-nothing bastard. Didn’t he deserve everything he was getting? Rory put his head on the steering wheel and forced himself to breathe. One…Two…In and out…

The rap on the car window just about made his heart stop. “Rory?”

Rory closed his eyes. He wanted to flip out. He wanted to lose his damn mind. He was too weak for any of it. “Go away, Gabe.”

The door locks popped up, but before Gabe had a chance to open the door, Rory reached for the fob in the ignition and locked them again. They went through the game a second time, but on Gabe’s third attempt, Gabe had his hand on the door handle. Before Rory could press the button and reset the locks, Gabe was leaning into the car. “Scoot over.”

Rory didn’t move.

Gabe sighed and began to climb in, pushing Rory over with weight alone. That was too much. The anger Rory had been holding back won out. He put both hands on Gabe’s arm and pushed. When that didn’t work, Rory started to beat on Gabe’s arm with a closed fist. “Get out! And do it quickly before one of your f*****g friends sees you.”

Gabe swung in both legs and pulled the door behind him. While he allowed the first few punches, by the fourth or fifth hit, he’d had enough. He caught both of Rory’s hands and held them down in Rory’s lap. “Stop freaking out.”

“Don’t tell me not to freak out!” Rory hissed. “You f*****g d**k! You jerk! You’re nothing but a goddamn closet-case! Your roommate? Your f*****g roommate? How dare you.”

“Hey!” Gabe pressed harder on Rory’s hands, digging them into Rory’s lap. “You don’t know what it’s like, okay? What do you want me to say? I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” Rory shot Gabe a look meant to dissolve the man to ash. “You’re f*****g sorry?”

Gabe released Rory’s hands and Rory slumped against the passenger door. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’re upset and I’m sorry that i***t said that. But mostly I’m sorry that the world isn’t perfect, all right? I’m sorry that I’m not smart enough to hang around with wonderful, perfectly socially minded people like you do. f**k, Rory! Give me a break here, will you? What do you expect?”

Rory widened his eyes. “What do I expect? What the f**k do I expect? How about a little support? How about a little appreciation? All the s**t I do for you, for us, and this is how you pay me back?”

“Oh, good.” Gabe nodded. “You get to throw that in my face again. I absolutely love it when you do that. You and your f*****g money. You and your f*****g friends. All so f*****g woke and perfect. Maybe if you had to live in the real world for a change, you’d see what it’s like out here. Things aren’t all roses and butterflies like they are in your little stories, you know.”

Rory sucked in a breath. “Right. This is all my fault.”

“I didn’t say that!” Gabe yelled. His voice echoed through the car and a passing couple quickly moved away. “Do I need to repeat it all to you as if I haven’t said it a million times already? Will one more time help it sink into your head? I work with a bunch of mechanics, Rory. Mechanics and shop workers. In a backwoods town as big as a pinhead. What do you think my life would be like at work if I pranced in on Monday and told everyone what my boyfriend and I did that weekend? Or stuck your picture up in my locker with little heart magnets? You think I’d still be allowed to hang out with the guys at lunch? You think I’d still have a lunch when I went to get it? Thanks, but as much as I don’t mind yours, I really don’t want to be eating jizz sandwiches every day until my coworkers get bored of it.”

Rory rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, Gabe. It’s not the fifties. They have laws in place against that kind of bullshit.”

Gabe reached for Rory and pulled him close, hard. “Maybe in your world they do. Those laws don’t mean s**t in mine.”

“Let go!” Rory tried to wiggle away. “I mean it. Let go or I’ll holler until one of your friends shows up and sees you hugging me.”

Gabe didn’t let go. “Rory, please. Can’t it be enough that we have each other? Can’t it be enough that we have our house and our stuff, and we share our lives?” He held Rory even tighter, forcing Rory to stop moving altogether. “Please?”

No, Rory wanted to scream. It wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough for a while. Rory just hadn’t realized why. Gabe could call it whatever he wanted, paint it with whatever color he thought would make it prettier, but the ugly truth of the matter was that Gabe was ashamed of them. For months, Gabe had been bickering, pestering, and picking fights. Now Rory understood where it was coming from.

If only he knew what to do about it.

So, Rory did the only thing he knew how, the only way he’d ever learned how to deal with overwhelming confrontation—he retreated from it. “Can we just go home?”

“Sure, baby,” Gabe purred, resting a kiss on top of Rory’s head. “Let’s go home.”