Rory's Rock, page 2
After taking off hats, gloves, and jackets, the men made their way into the main room.
“Not going to meet Mr. X.?” Liam asked.
Wayne rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Wayne disappeared every few evenings and didn’t return until late. No one knew where he went but Wayne had once confided he was meeting someone. Jake had then speculated Wayne was seeing a married woman and Wayne wasn’t as gay as he claimed. Wayne had snorted and admitted he was meeting a man, but no amount of questioning, threats, or offers to do his morning chores for him had made Wayne say more.
“Not with the storm,” Wayne said, getting out the checkers board. “Want a game?”
Liam agreed and they set up the board.
Zane turned on the TV and tuned into a basketball game. Rory curled up in one of the massive leather armchairs opposite the crackling log fire, threw an afghan over himself, and resumed reading a novel on his tablet about the adventures of knights in medieval England. And so what if he had a mental picture of Zane in shining armor astride a white charger.
Rory had just looked at the time—7:49—and thought it was close enough to snack time, when the lights flickered a couple of times before going out completely, taking the TV with them.
“Fuck!” Liam said softly. “There’s flashlights and candles in the kitchen. Wayne, you keep your hands off my checkers. I know exactly how many I have and where they are.”
“Fuck you,” Wayne responded.
Even though the fire still burned in the fireplace, Rory shivered, so he tucked the afghan more tightly around himself.
Liam soon returned with candles and flashlights. “Hope this outage doesn’t last as long as the last one.”
The previous winter they’d been without power for several days until the power company was able to reconnect them. Rory had hated the dark and more especially the cold.
Liam and Wayne resumed their seemingly endless rounds of games of checkers by candlelight, while Rory picked up the action in his novel. He’d learned from the previous year’s outage and had invested in a couple of high-capacity rechargeable battery packs. Although as the wireless modem wasn’t powered, he wouldn’t have access to the Internet. Zane merely stared at the blank TV screen, no doubt willing it to come back to life.
“Why don’t you read a book or something?” Liam eventually asked Zane.
“Not into reading much.”
Rory couldn’t ever remember seeing Zane read anything save the directions on a bottle of supplements for one of the animals.
A short while later, Wayne announced he was bored with playing checkers. “Wanna play cards?”
“You only wanna play cards ’cause I whooped your ass at checkers,” Liam responded.
“Yeah, right.”
Not that Rory had intended to keep score, but Liam had won about two thirds of the games.
“Rory will play Trivial Pursuit with you.” Wayne snickered.
Wayne scoffed. “He’ll beat my ass.”
“Beats everyone’s asses,” Liam grumbled.
Rory smiled from behind his tablet.
“Isn’t it snack time?” Wayne asked.
Zane perked up. “What snack did Barry give us tonight?”
“Peanut butter brownies,” Rory said. He put his tablet to sleep, unwrapped himself from the afghan, and started to get to his feet.
“I’ll get ’em.” Zane sprang to his feet. For a big man he was surprisingly agile.
Rory sat down again.
Zane walked to the door then turned around. “Is there any crackers and cheese left?”
“Should be,” Rory said, admiring how the man filled the doorframe.
“You ate all the cheese yesterday,” Wayne murmured.
“Oh, yeah.” Zane’s face fell.
“It’s okay. I’m not hungry. You can have my brownies,” Rory told him.
Rory was rewarded with a brilliant smile that warmed his insides. “Thanks, man.”
“You shouldn’t give him your food,” Liam said.
“You need it more than he does,” Wayne added.
Rory was comforted at how these men looked out for him. Plus he’d gotten a beautiful smile from Zane. It was worth it to forgo a couple of Barry’s brownies.
Liam’s cell rang. “Hello? Hello! Goddamnit!” The foreman repeatedly poked at the screen. Finally silencing the ringer, he asked, “Yeah? Hi, Jake…” He rolled his eyes. “No, you can tell Barry we’re barely coping…” He nodded. “We’ve drawn straws and we’ve decided we’ll eat Rory first.”
Rory rolled his eyes.
Zane reappeared in the main room, open Tupperware box in hand, brownie smeared over his mouth and stuck in his goatee. “The microwave won’t work. I like my brownies warm.”
“You’re right, we’d better pick Zane instead,” Liam said into the phone. “He’d definitely see us through the winter.”
“Huh?” Zane’s face creased in confusion.
“Never mind,” Rory told him, casting off the afghan once again and getting to his feet. Quietly, he said, “The power outage means the microwave won’t work.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zane treated Rory to another smile which was soon hidden by a whole brownie being pushed into his mouth.
“Tell him it isn’t necessary,” Liam said, still talking on the phone. He sighed. “Yeah, I know, you can’t tell Barry anything once he gets an idea in his head…Okay, see you in a few.” He hung up the phone and addressed the hands. “That was Jake. He’ll be here with thermoses of hot chocolate and anything else Barry thinks we’ll need, just as soon as Barry’s heated up the milk.”
“Is the microwave working in the main house?” Zane asked.
“They have bottled gas to the stove,” Rory explained.
Zane nodded before cramming another brownie into his mouth.
“Hey, leave some for us,” Wayne protested, getting to his feet and taking the box from Zane.
“I’ll call Barry and ask if he can bring over some cheese,” Zane said, patting his pockets.
“Cheese’ll give you bad dreams,” Liam told him.
“Naw, always sleep like a baby.”
“Never heard a baby snore before,” Wayne muttered.
Rory didn’t need cheese to give him bad dreams but he never ate it before bed, just in case.
* * * *
Barry’s care package contained items more interesting to Zane than cheese.
“Been years since I made s’mores,” the big guy said, squishing his third marshmallow, chocolate, and Graham cracker sandwich together.
“And you’re making up for lost time,” Wayne said, taking the improvised toasting fork made from a straightened wire coat hanger from Zane.
Rory wanted to tell Wayne to lay off Zane, the man was forever getting on Zane’s case about how much he ate. However, as usual, Rory chickened out and stayed mum. Not that Wayne’s words seemed to bother Zane; it was like water off a duck’s back.
Once Wayne had toasted his marshmallow, he offered the coat hanger to Liam.
The foreman shook his head. “Had enough sugar this evening to keep me wired all night.”
Zane took charge of the toasting stick once again and spiked another marshmallow. Expertly toasting the confection on all sides, he prepared the s’more. “Here. You’ve only had one,” he said, handing the sandwich to Rory.
“Not that hungry, but thanks.” Rory took the treat, his insides melting at Zane’s thoughtfulness.
“Gotta look after my little buddy, ’specially as he looked after us when Barry was in England.”
Liam announced he was going to bed and Wayne offered to bunk with him to share body heat.
“Sure Mr. X. won’t mind?”
Wayne flipped him the bird. “Just keep your cold feet off my legs.”
Liam scoffed but accepted a hand up from his position kneeling in front of the fireplace. “Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping my distance. With the beans you had at supper, you’ll be passing gas all night.”
They started for the door.
“Listen to Mr. Silent But Deadly.”
“At least I don’t rattle the timbers,” Liam retorted.
Rory was left in the main room with Zane, who was toasting the last of the marshmallows.
Shortly after Zane finished his snack, he uttered the words Rory had both dreaded and longed for in equal measure. “You and me should bunk together, too.”
Rory swallowed, and pulled the afghan closer around himself. “Thought I might try sleeping in here where it’s warm.”
Zane looked around. “Can’t stretch out, except on the floor.”
Rory shrugged. He didn’t sleep well at the best of times—bad dreams, unpleasant memories, imagined noises…
“There’s room in my bed for two. I’ll keep you warm.”
A mixture of emotions washed over Rory, leaving him slightly light-headed. He managed to nod and croak out an okay.
Zane’s face—thick lips, crooked teeth, and too big nose—transformed into something…magical when he smiled. And Rory’s insides melted whenever one of those smiles was aimed at him.
With pounding heart, dry mouth, and shaking legs, Rory followed Zane out of the main room.
* * * *
After stripping off his clothes in his cold and dark bedroom and putting on a rarely used pair of pajamas—he normally just slept in an old pair of boxers—a shivering Rory exited his room and dashed across the hallway into the bathroom. The tiled room was even darker and colder than his bedroom. With no hot water, Rory did the bare minimum and, shivering even harder, dropped off his toiletries back in his room before walking down the almost pitch black hallway to stand outside Zane’s room. Rory paused at the door, hand raised, ready to knock. Could he go through with this? Shouldn’t he just go back to his own room? It, or more likely he, would be so hard lying so close to the object of his affections but not able to act on them. He knew the framers of the Bill of Rights hadn’t had his situation in mind when they wrote of cruel and unusual punishment, but…this situation definitely fit. Rory lowered his arm and turned away. Then he imagined seeing the look of disappointment or confusion on Zane’s face in the morning, so he turned back. But what if he had a nightmare, cried out? Rory was not a passive sleeper, he regularly woke with the sheets wound around him. Would it be fair on Zane to have to deal with all of that? And how would Rory explain his actions? Rory was about to turn away from the door once again when it opened to reveal Zane, holding a saucer on which stood a lighted candle.
“Get lost in the dark?” Zane asked.
“Uh, no, I…” Rory’s mouth had gone dry.
Zane stepped back, opened the door more widely, and gestured for Rory to enter. “Is the bathroom free?”
“Was a couple minutes ago.” Rory stepped into the room. It smelled of Zane, or rather the woodsy cologne he sometimes wore.
Zane turned his back on Rory and reached into his closet. After slinging a towel over his shoulder and picking up a Scooby Doo toiletry bag, he said, “Radio should still work if you want me to turn it on.”
Rory didn’t, but then thought it might be useful to hear the local weather report, so nodded his agreement.
Once alone, Rory looked around the room. A candle flickered on the nightstand on the bed’s right side. Did this indicate the side Zane slept on, or the side Rory should use? The bitter cold soon persuaded him to make a decision. As the unlighted side of the bed was closest, that was where Rory headed.
Rory shivered and shuffled around under the covers in an effort to get comfortable. Zane’s mattress was firmer than what he was used to. As he lay, listening to the country music playing softly on the radio, Rory remembered his tablet. It was next door in his room. He usually read for a while as sleep rarely came easily. But he didn’t relish the prospect of getting up, going next door, and searching around in the pitch black and cold. Even if he did go get his tablet, the light from the screen might disturb Zane. Rory determined he’d just have to lie there, hoping sleep would eventually claim him. This was unlikely, given that this was a strange bed and he wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone.
As he waited for Zane to return, Rory gave the man’s room a closer examination. It held the same type of mismatched furniture his did. Dresser, straight-backed chair, nightstands—two as against Rory’s one. His room was a sanctuary, he’d never had his own room in any of the group homes. However, Rory often had to tell himself he mustn’t allow his room to become his prison, so he’d made a determined effort to socialize with his cowboy family.
“Did they say anything about the storm?” Zane asked, coming back into the room.
Rory yawned and shook his head.
Zane approached Rory’s side of the bed and set the candle on the nightstand.
In truth, Rory hadn’t been paying the radio any mind. He mostly listened to classical music, not that he would admit that to anyone.
Zane listened for a few moments then looked at his wrist watch. “It’s KZNF’s Lover’s Hour.”
Rory raised an eyebrow. The other eyebrow joined its mate when Zane started to get undressed. Under his black shirt was a blue Superman T-shirt that amazingly seemed a size or two too large for Zane’s hulking frame. Rory’s fingers itched to trace the stylized S stretched over the center of Zane’s chest.
The surprises continued when Zane undid the belt on his jeans and lowered them to reveal a pair of Batman boxers.
As he hung up his clothes, Zane explained how the station played romantic songs between nine and ten.
Rory’s brain couldn’t process the idea that this hot bear of a man was undressing in front of him and was about to share a bed with him. Even though his brain was struggling, Rory’s dick had no such problems. It was sitting up and taking notice. Rory looked down, but fortunately the blankets hid his arousal. Rory looked back at Zane just in time to see the man lifting the hem of his tee to reveal a huge swath of belly hair. Rory couldn’t breathe. However, Zane seemed to change his mind and let the tee fall back in place, hiding all that glorious bear fur. Rory let out a sigh.
“Each year on their anniversary Mom calls the station and requests a song for Dad.” Zane smiled, shook his head, and got into bed, the box springs complaining quietly at the extra burden. “Dad says I was conceived after one request and that’s why they called me Zane, after the station…well, sort of. They couldn’t call me KZNF.”
Rory smiled.
Zane turned to Rory, who’d inched his way to the edge of the mattress. Zane seemed to take up more than half of the bed. “Want to listen until the news? Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Sure.” Rory thought again about going to get his tablet, but it was surprisingly warm in the bed now Zane was in it with him.
Zane was right, there was only a couple more sappy ballads requested by wives to husbands or girlfriends to their boyfriends, before a commercial break followed by the news. Rory shivered when the newscaster mentioned that the worst of the ice storm was yet to hit their county, and further power lines were expected to come down.
“Cold?” Zane asked, snaking out a hairy arm to pull Rory in closer.
“Uh.”
The big guy had no sense of personal space. He regularly hugged those he was conversing with. Rory enjoyed such interactions, although they were always bittersweet because the hug would soon end and Rory would be left unsatisfied. Those hugs would never, could never, escalate into anything more.
But this hug didn’t seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. The bed, or was it Rory, was feeling very toasty.
Zane let out a jaw-splitting yawn, farted, then asked if Rory wanted the candles out and the radio off.
“Whatever you want,” Rory said, ending the sentence on a yawn.
Zane withdrew his arm, got out of bed, turned off the radio, climbed back under the covers, then blew out his candle. “Can you get the one at your side?”
“Sure.” Rory levered himself up and blew at his candle. It didn’t go out first time so Rory blew again. Settling back, he couldn’t make up his mind if he was disappointed or relieved Zane didn’t pull him into another hug.
“Night, little dude,” Zane said in the darkness. “Mom says my snores are enough to wake the dead, so give me a nudge if I get too loud.”
Rory, who lay awake most nights, often heard Zane’s snores through the wall, but if anything, the rhythmic sounds gave him a strange sense of reassurance. “Uh, okay. Goodnight.” Rory stared up at the ceiling, although as the room was pitch black, he couldn’t see anything.
Almost immediately Zane began to snore softly. Rory closed his eyes, turned on his side to face away from Zane, and let out a slow, steady breath and tried to relax.
Chapter 2
The first thing Rory became aware of—and it snuck up on him gradually—was the pleasant smell. It was earthy, male, warm, safe. Then there was sound. Someone was snoring. Did he snore? But if he were asleep then…Someone was knocking. Rory tried to rouse himself to tell them to come in, but he felt too comfortable, too safe to bother. Feeling was the next sense to come online. This wasn’t his regular pillow, not that it was uncomfortable or anything. Said pillow then shifted under him and Rory became aware the pillow was a shoulder. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Rory’s confusion didn’t lessen at the lack of daylight. But instead of disturbing him, the darkness felt oddly comforting. He closed his eyes again and rubbed his face on the pillowcase. So soft and warm and…Rory snuggled closer into the warm body that was wrapped around him. He lazily ran his free hand up the soft, hairy belly.
The bedroom door opened. “Guys.” There was the sound of bootheels on the wooden floor. “Time to get up. Barry will have breakfast on the table in a quarter of an hour.”
“Go way,” Rory mumbled. It wasn’t breakfast time. He never slept late.
“Rory. Wake up.” His shoulder was shaken.
He opened his eyes. Liam’s face, illuminated by flickering candlelight, was leaning over him.
“It’s time to get up.”
Rory tried to punch his pillow, but it felt hard and un-pillow-like. He lifted his head and looked down at a wide shoulder. He blinked and shifted his gaze upward. “Zane?” Then the events of the previous evening all came back to him.
“Not going to meet Mr. X.?” Liam asked.
Wayne rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Wayne disappeared every few evenings and didn’t return until late. No one knew where he went but Wayne had once confided he was meeting someone. Jake had then speculated Wayne was seeing a married woman and Wayne wasn’t as gay as he claimed. Wayne had snorted and admitted he was meeting a man, but no amount of questioning, threats, or offers to do his morning chores for him had made Wayne say more.
“Not with the storm,” Wayne said, getting out the checkers board. “Want a game?”
Liam agreed and they set up the board.
Zane turned on the TV and tuned into a basketball game. Rory curled up in one of the massive leather armchairs opposite the crackling log fire, threw an afghan over himself, and resumed reading a novel on his tablet about the adventures of knights in medieval England. And so what if he had a mental picture of Zane in shining armor astride a white charger.
Rory had just looked at the time—7:49—and thought it was close enough to snack time, when the lights flickered a couple of times before going out completely, taking the TV with them.
“Fuck!” Liam said softly. “There’s flashlights and candles in the kitchen. Wayne, you keep your hands off my checkers. I know exactly how many I have and where they are.”
“Fuck you,” Wayne responded.
Even though the fire still burned in the fireplace, Rory shivered, so he tucked the afghan more tightly around himself.
Liam soon returned with candles and flashlights. “Hope this outage doesn’t last as long as the last one.”
The previous winter they’d been without power for several days until the power company was able to reconnect them. Rory had hated the dark and more especially the cold.
Liam and Wayne resumed their seemingly endless rounds of games of checkers by candlelight, while Rory picked up the action in his novel. He’d learned from the previous year’s outage and had invested in a couple of high-capacity rechargeable battery packs. Although as the wireless modem wasn’t powered, he wouldn’t have access to the Internet. Zane merely stared at the blank TV screen, no doubt willing it to come back to life.
“Why don’t you read a book or something?” Liam eventually asked Zane.
“Not into reading much.”
Rory couldn’t ever remember seeing Zane read anything save the directions on a bottle of supplements for one of the animals.
A short while later, Wayne announced he was bored with playing checkers. “Wanna play cards?”
“You only wanna play cards ’cause I whooped your ass at checkers,” Liam responded.
“Yeah, right.”
Not that Rory had intended to keep score, but Liam had won about two thirds of the games.
“Rory will play Trivial Pursuit with you.” Wayne snickered.
Wayne scoffed. “He’ll beat my ass.”
“Beats everyone’s asses,” Liam grumbled.
Rory smiled from behind his tablet.
“Isn’t it snack time?” Wayne asked.
Zane perked up. “What snack did Barry give us tonight?”
“Peanut butter brownies,” Rory said. He put his tablet to sleep, unwrapped himself from the afghan, and started to get to his feet.
“I’ll get ’em.” Zane sprang to his feet. For a big man he was surprisingly agile.
Rory sat down again.
Zane walked to the door then turned around. “Is there any crackers and cheese left?”
“Should be,” Rory said, admiring how the man filled the doorframe.
“You ate all the cheese yesterday,” Wayne murmured.
“Oh, yeah.” Zane’s face fell.
“It’s okay. I’m not hungry. You can have my brownies,” Rory told him.
Rory was rewarded with a brilliant smile that warmed his insides. “Thanks, man.”
“You shouldn’t give him your food,” Liam said.
“You need it more than he does,” Wayne added.
Rory was comforted at how these men looked out for him. Plus he’d gotten a beautiful smile from Zane. It was worth it to forgo a couple of Barry’s brownies.
Liam’s cell rang. “Hello? Hello! Goddamnit!” The foreman repeatedly poked at the screen. Finally silencing the ringer, he asked, “Yeah? Hi, Jake…” He rolled his eyes. “No, you can tell Barry we’re barely coping…” He nodded. “We’ve drawn straws and we’ve decided we’ll eat Rory first.”
Rory rolled his eyes.
Zane reappeared in the main room, open Tupperware box in hand, brownie smeared over his mouth and stuck in his goatee. “The microwave won’t work. I like my brownies warm.”
“You’re right, we’d better pick Zane instead,” Liam said into the phone. “He’d definitely see us through the winter.”
“Huh?” Zane’s face creased in confusion.
“Never mind,” Rory told him, casting off the afghan once again and getting to his feet. Quietly, he said, “The power outage means the microwave won’t work.”
“Oh, yeah.” Zane treated Rory to another smile which was soon hidden by a whole brownie being pushed into his mouth.
“Tell him it isn’t necessary,” Liam said, still talking on the phone. He sighed. “Yeah, I know, you can’t tell Barry anything once he gets an idea in his head…Okay, see you in a few.” He hung up the phone and addressed the hands. “That was Jake. He’ll be here with thermoses of hot chocolate and anything else Barry thinks we’ll need, just as soon as Barry’s heated up the milk.”
“Is the microwave working in the main house?” Zane asked.
“They have bottled gas to the stove,” Rory explained.
Zane nodded before cramming another brownie into his mouth.
“Hey, leave some for us,” Wayne protested, getting to his feet and taking the box from Zane.
“I’ll call Barry and ask if he can bring over some cheese,” Zane said, patting his pockets.
“Cheese’ll give you bad dreams,” Liam told him.
“Naw, always sleep like a baby.”
“Never heard a baby snore before,” Wayne muttered.
Rory didn’t need cheese to give him bad dreams but he never ate it before bed, just in case.
* * * *
Barry’s care package contained items more interesting to Zane than cheese.
“Been years since I made s’mores,” the big guy said, squishing his third marshmallow, chocolate, and Graham cracker sandwich together.
“And you’re making up for lost time,” Wayne said, taking the improvised toasting fork made from a straightened wire coat hanger from Zane.
Rory wanted to tell Wayne to lay off Zane, the man was forever getting on Zane’s case about how much he ate. However, as usual, Rory chickened out and stayed mum. Not that Wayne’s words seemed to bother Zane; it was like water off a duck’s back.
Once Wayne had toasted his marshmallow, he offered the coat hanger to Liam.
The foreman shook his head. “Had enough sugar this evening to keep me wired all night.”
Zane took charge of the toasting stick once again and spiked another marshmallow. Expertly toasting the confection on all sides, he prepared the s’more. “Here. You’ve only had one,” he said, handing the sandwich to Rory.
“Not that hungry, but thanks.” Rory took the treat, his insides melting at Zane’s thoughtfulness.
“Gotta look after my little buddy, ’specially as he looked after us when Barry was in England.”
Liam announced he was going to bed and Wayne offered to bunk with him to share body heat.
“Sure Mr. X. won’t mind?”
Wayne flipped him the bird. “Just keep your cold feet off my legs.”
Liam scoffed but accepted a hand up from his position kneeling in front of the fireplace. “Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping my distance. With the beans you had at supper, you’ll be passing gas all night.”
They started for the door.
“Listen to Mr. Silent But Deadly.”
“At least I don’t rattle the timbers,” Liam retorted.
Rory was left in the main room with Zane, who was toasting the last of the marshmallows.
Shortly after Zane finished his snack, he uttered the words Rory had both dreaded and longed for in equal measure. “You and me should bunk together, too.”
Rory swallowed, and pulled the afghan closer around himself. “Thought I might try sleeping in here where it’s warm.”
Zane looked around. “Can’t stretch out, except on the floor.”
Rory shrugged. He didn’t sleep well at the best of times—bad dreams, unpleasant memories, imagined noises…
“There’s room in my bed for two. I’ll keep you warm.”
A mixture of emotions washed over Rory, leaving him slightly light-headed. He managed to nod and croak out an okay.
Zane’s face—thick lips, crooked teeth, and too big nose—transformed into something…magical when he smiled. And Rory’s insides melted whenever one of those smiles was aimed at him.
With pounding heart, dry mouth, and shaking legs, Rory followed Zane out of the main room.
* * * *
After stripping off his clothes in his cold and dark bedroom and putting on a rarely used pair of pajamas—he normally just slept in an old pair of boxers—a shivering Rory exited his room and dashed across the hallway into the bathroom. The tiled room was even darker and colder than his bedroom. With no hot water, Rory did the bare minimum and, shivering even harder, dropped off his toiletries back in his room before walking down the almost pitch black hallway to stand outside Zane’s room. Rory paused at the door, hand raised, ready to knock. Could he go through with this? Shouldn’t he just go back to his own room? It, or more likely he, would be so hard lying so close to the object of his affections but not able to act on them. He knew the framers of the Bill of Rights hadn’t had his situation in mind when they wrote of cruel and unusual punishment, but…this situation definitely fit. Rory lowered his arm and turned away. Then he imagined seeing the look of disappointment or confusion on Zane’s face in the morning, so he turned back. But what if he had a nightmare, cried out? Rory was not a passive sleeper, he regularly woke with the sheets wound around him. Would it be fair on Zane to have to deal with all of that? And how would Rory explain his actions? Rory was about to turn away from the door once again when it opened to reveal Zane, holding a saucer on which stood a lighted candle.
“Get lost in the dark?” Zane asked.
“Uh, no, I…” Rory’s mouth had gone dry.
Zane stepped back, opened the door more widely, and gestured for Rory to enter. “Is the bathroom free?”
“Was a couple minutes ago.” Rory stepped into the room. It smelled of Zane, or rather the woodsy cologne he sometimes wore.
Zane turned his back on Rory and reached into his closet. After slinging a towel over his shoulder and picking up a Scooby Doo toiletry bag, he said, “Radio should still work if you want me to turn it on.”
Rory didn’t, but then thought it might be useful to hear the local weather report, so nodded his agreement.
Once alone, Rory looked around the room. A candle flickered on the nightstand on the bed’s right side. Did this indicate the side Zane slept on, or the side Rory should use? The bitter cold soon persuaded him to make a decision. As the unlighted side of the bed was closest, that was where Rory headed.
Rory shivered and shuffled around under the covers in an effort to get comfortable. Zane’s mattress was firmer than what he was used to. As he lay, listening to the country music playing softly on the radio, Rory remembered his tablet. It was next door in his room. He usually read for a while as sleep rarely came easily. But he didn’t relish the prospect of getting up, going next door, and searching around in the pitch black and cold. Even if he did go get his tablet, the light from the screen might disturb Zane. Rory determined he’d just have to lie there, hoping sleep would eventually claim him. This was unlikely, given that this was a strange bed and he wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone.
As he waited for Zane to return, Rory gave the man’s room a closer examination. It held the same type of mismatched furniture his did. Dresser, straight-backed chair, nightstands—two as against Rory’s one. His room was a sanctuary, he’d never had his own room in any of the group homes. However, Rory often had to tell himself he mustn’t allow his room to become his prison, so he’d made a determined effort to socialize with his cowboy family.
“Did they say anything about the storm?” Zane asked, coming back into the room.
Rory yawned and shook his head.
Zane approached Rory’s side of the bed and set the candle on the nightstand.
In truth, Rory hadn’t been paying the radio any mind. He mostly listened to classical music, not that he would admit that to anyone.
Zane listened for a few moments then looked at his wrist watch. “It’s KZNF’s Lover’s Hour.”
Rory raised an eyebrow. The other eyebrow joined its mate when Zane started to get undressed. Under his black shirt was a blue Superman T-shirt that amazingly seemed a size or two too large for Zane’s hulking frame. Rory’s fingers itched to trace the stylized S stretched over the center of Zane’s chest.
The surprises continued when Zane undid the belt on his jeans and lowered them to reveal a pair of Batman boxers.
As he hung up his clothes, Zane explained how the station played romantic songs between nine and ten.
Rory’s brain couldn’t process the idea that this hot bear of a man was undressing in front of him and was about to share a bed with him. Even though his brain was struggling, Rory’s dick had no such problems. It was sitting up and taking notice. Rory looked down, but fortunately the blankets hid his arousal. Rory looked back at Zane just in time to see the man lifting the hem of his tee to reveal a huge swath of belly hair. Rory couldn’t breathe. However, Zane seemed to change his mind and let the tee fall back in place, hiding all that glorious bear fur. Rory let out a sigh.
“Each year on their anniversary Mom calls the station and requests a song for Dad.” Zane smiled, shook his head, and got into bed, the box springs complaining quietly at the extra burden. “Dad says I was conceived after one request and that’s why they called me Zane, after the station…well, sort of. They couldn’t call me KZNF.”
Rory smiled.
Zane turned to Rory, who’d inched his way to the edge of the mattress. Zane seemed to take up more than half of the bed. “Want to listen until the news? Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Sure.” Rory thought again about going to get his tablet, but it was surprisingly warm in the bed now Zane was in it with him.
Zane was right, there was only a couple more sappy ballads requested by wives to husbands or girlfriends to their boyfriends, before a commercial break followed by the news. Rory shivered when the newscaster mentioned that the worst of the ice storm was yet to hit their county, and further power lines were expected to come down.
“Cold?” Zane asked, snaking out a hairy arm to pull Rory in closer.
“Uh.”
The big guy had no sense of personal space. He regularly hugged those he was conversing with. Rory enjoyed such interactions, although they were always bittersweet because the hug would soon end and Rory would be left unsatisfied. Those hugs would never, could never, escalate into anything more.
But this hug didn’t seem to be coming to an end anytime soon. The bed, or was it Rory, was feeling very toasty.
Zane let out a jaw-splitting yawn, farted, then asked if Rory wanted the candles out and the radio off.
“Whatever you want,” Rory said, ending the sentence on a yawn.
Zane withdrew his arm, got out of bed, turned off the radio, climbed back under the covers, then blew out his candle. “Can you get the one at your side?”
“Sure.” Rory levered himself up and blew at his candle. It didn’t go out first time so Rory blew again. Settling back, he couldn’t make up his mind if he was disappointed or relieved Zane didn’t pull him into another hug.
“Night, little dude,” Zane said in the darkness. “Mom says my snores are enough to wake the dead, so give me a nudge if I get too loud.”
Rory, who lay awake most nights, often heard Zane’s snores through the wall, but if anything, the rhythmic sounds gave him a strange sense of reassurance. “Uh, okay. Goodnight.” Rory stared up at the ceiling, although as the room was pitch black, he couldn’t see anything.
Almost immediately Zane began to snore softly. Rory closed his eyes, turned on his side to face away from Zane, and let out a slow, steady breath and tried to relax.
Chapter 2
The first thing Rory became aware of—and it snuck up on him gradually—was the pleasant smell. It was earthy, male, warm, safe. Then there was sound. Someone was snoring. Did he snore? But if he were asleep then…Someone was knocking. Rory tried to rouse himself to tell them to come in, but he felt too comfortable, too safe to bother. Feeling was the next sense to come online. This wasn’t his regular pillow, not that it was uncomfortable or anything. Said pillow then shifted under him and Rory became aware the pillow was a shoulder. Reluctantly opening his eyes, Rory’s confusion didn’t lessen at the lack of daylight. But instead of disturbing him, the darkness felt oddly comforting. He closed his eyes again and rubbed his face on the pillowcase. So soft and warm and…Rory snuggled closer into the warm body that was wrapped around him. He lazily ran his free hand up the soft, hairy belly.
The bedroom door opened. “Guys.” There was the sound of bootheels on the wooden floor. “Time to get up. Barry will have breakfast on the table in a quarter of an hour.”
“Go way,” Rory mumbled. It wasn’t breakfast time. He never slept late.
“Rory. Wake up.” His shoulder was shaken.
He opened his eyes. Liam’s face, illuminated by flickering candlelight, was leaning over him.
“It’s time to get up.”
Rory tried to punch his pillow, but it felt hard and un-pillow-like. He lifted his head and looked down at a wide shoulder. He blinked and shifted his gaze upward. “Zane?” Then the events of the previous evening all came back to him.
