Under the Bridge (2 page)

“What do you know about it?”

“Breaking hearts?” Chris waved at himself,
his skinny body and straight dirty blond hair, the greenish-blue
eyes that might have been pretty if one hadn’t been black and blue
as well. He was cold without his sweatshirt, but he wasn’t going
back to the party for it. The jocks could keep it since they’d
ripped it off him. “I think our football team has some homosexual
tendencies, but me? Not a heartbreaker. Not like you. You should
hear what the girls say.”

Nick liked being on his knees, that’s what
they said, not that Nick had ever been seen in public with any of
them.

“Those girls don’t have hearts to break.”
Nick played with his lighter before stuffing it into a jacket
pocket. “You can’t hurt them even if you try.”

“Oh.” To do something, Chris went over to
look at the other side of their hiding spot. He could see some
house lights in the distance but nothing else. He thought about
Nick
trying
to hurt people and why, and if Nick liked
hurting people the way the jocks seemed to. Sometimes when Chris
was getting punched he felt like the jocks wanted some reaction
from him and he could never think of what it was, not that he would
have given it to them if he had. But Nick, if Nick asked him for
something, he’d probably try to do it, not that Nick ever would.
Nick could barely speak to him even now.

It made Chris feel wrong inside, as if he was
going to be sick, though he didn’t feel like he was going to throw
up. He felt the same when he thought about Nick’s girls. He cleared
his throat. “Still were a lot of them though.”

“Yeah well, you aren’t missing much.”

Chris turned around in surprise. “I’m not
interested in girls, Nick.” He was drunk enough to laugh about it.
“Duh.” That’s why he was always in these messes, why he was here
right now. Not that he had any more luck with guys.

Nick flicked a careful look in his direction.
“I know that. Everyone and their cat knows that. Shit it’s why….
It’s why your lip is bleeding. Still bleeding. Fuck.” He hunched
his shoulders. “I know that hurts.”

Chris inhaled. “No my lip is bleeding because
the world is full of bullies and I don’t want them to see me
scared.” He didn’t deny that it hurt or ask why Nick cared that it
did.

“You’re scared?” Nick’s gaze burned, it
actually burned. Chris felt hot all over and tripped forward. He
was still shaking from earlier and Nick could ask him that?

“Aren’t
you
scared?” he asked in
return. They’d done announcements about who was going to do what
after graduation. He’d heard Nick’s plan for his future. “You
enlisted.” Saying it was strange. They were still at
war
and
Nick had enlisted.

“I leave in the morning to spend a week with
dear old grandma and then I’m gone.” Nick reached over without
looking into his eyes. “Give me that.” He took a swig and put the
bottle down. “It’s cool though.” He seemed unsteady as he raised
his chin. “Anything to get out of this fucking town, right? We
can’t all be college smart like you.”

Chris wondered if it would do any good to
remind Nick that he was smart. Maybe not right now, but he said it
anyway.

“You’re smart. You figured out the pulley we
used in the clubhouse, remember?”

“Yeah.” Nick took a moment to answer. He gave
Chris a curious, sideways look. “Yeah I remember.”

“You’re still a dick though.” Chris felt he
should add that. He wasn’t shaking anymore but his legs were
feeling weak. That empty spot on the bench next to Nick looked
tempting but he stayed where he was. “You still haven’t said why
you’re only talking to me now.” He cleared his throat. “This just
because you’re drunk? I don’t need that kind of friend. You gonna
talk to me tomorrow?”

“I won’t be here tomorrow.” Nick stared at
the ground. “I don’t think I’m ever coming back here.”

Chris bumped into the wall behind him. He
hadn’t expected that answer for some reason. “Oh.” He sagged back.
“Ever?” He licked his mouth but it just seemed numb now. “I know
you don’t want to see… your family, but I’ll be here during breaks
and stuff. You know. If you ever wanted to hang out. Talk. My mom
asks about you sometimes too.”

“How do you do that?” Nick was still studying
the ground. He picked up the bottle by the neck, let it dangle,
then put it back down. A moment later he reached down and tipped it
over. They both watched the last of the whiskey pour out and
trickle down toward the bottom of the dry creek bed. “How are you
so brave all the time? It’s stupid. Fighting back… it’s really
stupid. But you were always like that. I could snap you in half and
you’re still in my face. My stepdad… some people think you’re a
weak little shit, that it’s weak to keep caring like that and I
don’t know why but that makes them want to beat the weakness out of
you. So why? Why do you care so much?”

It was the most Nick had probably said to
anyone in years. His voice was rough and fast and he only stopped
to breathe and push his hair from his face.

“You came out sophomore year and spent most
of that year in the nurse’s office and then the counselor’s office.
Your mom came to the school and raised hell but you stayed. Shit
you were something to see. I’m sorry I wasn’t… that I didn’t help
you. I’m really sorry, Chris.”

“You had your own bruises, Nick.” Chris said
it because it was true and because it was the only way he could
think of to say it without making Nicky hurt more.

Nick looked up. “Wouldn’t have stopped you.”
Chris thought he was imagining the words at first, until Nick
added, “Fuck.” and a red flush spread over his cheeks.

“Okay,” Chris agreed blindly. He had to say
something to hide how they made him feel. He put a hand over his
stomach. “Okay but you aren’t me. You’re smart and brave, whatever
you think, and tall and crazy hot. Don’t kick my ass, Nick, but you
have no idea how hot you are. You’ve got the body and the hair and
the eyes and the mouth and then you put on that jacket and…” What
he was saying caught up with him and he shut his mouth and
swallowed. “It’s a nice jacket,” he finished hoarsely. It was no
way to describe that badass, worn, old jacket that had probably
belonged to some long gone dashing pilot. It was impossible to
think of Nick without thinking of him wearing that jacket.

Nick glanced away from him. He tugged at the
jacket, unzipping it without taking it off. He was wearing the
dress shirt and tie he’d worn to graduation. Chris whimpered
quietly and decided he hated alcohol.

“I liked the way you didn’t take any crap.”
Nick addressed the arching cement. “It made me think I shouldn’t
take any either.” He swung his gaze back over. “So I didn’t after
that.” Chris could see Nick’s hands passing nervously over his
pockets, as if he wanted to pull out his lighter and play with it.
“You’re something too, just so you know. There’s nobody else in
this whole town like you. Maybe not anywhere else.”

“Thanks.” Chris could barely speak. He put a
hand up to his face but had to drop it when he could feel the angry
heat from his black eye. Even if his face hadn’t been puffy, he
wouldn’t have been anything special to look at, but it was nice to
hear someone had thought of him.

It had been silent for way too long by the
time he coughed and stood away from the wall. He wondered if the
whiskey was wearing off or if he’d never really been drunk.

“I mean, thanks if that was a compliment,” he
joked and gestured at himself again. “It’s good to finally be
noticed.”

“I’m fucking serious, Chris.” Nick snapped at
him. His hands curled into fists and then he smoothed them out over
the front pockets of his jacket. “You’re fearless. Or at least I
thought you were.”

“Me? I’m scared all the time. I’m so scared
all the time I’m
tired
of being scared all the time. It’s
exhausting. I know my mom worries about me and then there’s the
kids in the GSA with me who can’t come out yet and now I’ve got to
think about college and besides hiding from drunken jocks I spent
the rest of my time worrying I’m going to graduate from college a
virgin too and that’s no kind of….”

“You’re a virgin?” Nick interrupted blankly.
There was still color all through his face and he was getting
twitchy. He reached for the backpack and dug around inside it until
he found what he wanted, a new fifth of Jack. He cracked it and
took a drink so big he coughed and sputtered after he
swallowed.

Chris glared at him and then stalked over to
grab the bottle. Nick’s fingers were hot and loose. Chris took the
bottle from him easily and went back to the wall to have a
drink.

“We aren’t all dangerous bad boys,” he said
sadly to the bottle and drank until he felt tingly and numb at the
same time. He was out of breath when he held the bottle in the air
for Nick to come and get but then jumped when Nick appeared in
front of him, serious and leaning into his space because of the low
ceiling.

“You think I’m a heartbreaker?” Nick took his
hand, or took the bottle out of his hand; Chris wasn’t sure for a
second. “I thought you’d already been around. I thought gay guys
all….” He scowled furiously. “Why not? How the hell are you a
virgin?”

“I had offers.” Chris defended himself
breathlessly and kept his chin up. “Sort of.” Handjobs between
friends. Guys online. “They weren’t who I wanted.”

It didn’t make a lot of sense, but Nick
seemed to get it. He eased back an inch or so. “They weren’t who
you really wanted,” he repeated in this dazed voice, like Chris had
hit him.

“Yeah kinda lame I know when sometimes I
can’t jerk off enough.” Chris couldn’t think with Nick right in
front of him but it wasn’t like Nick cared about him jacking off.
“But I wanted someone who can deal with people around here knowing
about us. Don’t laugh,” he ordered, though Nick wasn’t. Nick was
staring at him with his lips just a little bit parted. He seemed
confused so Chris tried to explain some more. “It doesn’t have to
be anything dramatic or anything. Just…. People in this town… the
way they are. I want something more than just them thinking I’m a
freak. I want them to know I have someone. I guess. You know.
Whatever.”

Nick blinked. Chris replayed what he’d just
said and a giggle slipped out him. So he was drunk. Okay. He was a
drunk, horny virgin talking to the boy he’d been crazy about since
back when they’d dressed up as cartoon heroes together on a regular
basis. His laugh ended in a sigh. “I’m picky for a virgin. Or I’m a
virgin because I’m picky.”

He took the bottle from a silent Nick and had
a sip. The mouth of the bottle was warm from Nick’s mouth, wet too.
He groaned and licked the glass, just a little helplessly. Nick was
so close it was killing him. “Now I should probably take anyone I
guess.”

“No.” Nick finally spoke up, rough and quiet.
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.” He had one hand on the wall by Chris’s
head, Chris wasn’t sure when that had happened.

“Nick?” His mouth seemed unnaturally dry
considering how much he’d had to drink. Nick licked his lips like
he was having the same problem.

“Yeah?” Nick’s eyes seemed heavy. One curl
was about to fall into his face. Chris swept the curl to the side
and shivered, not that he was cold anymore.

Nick dropped the bottle. Chris heard it land
though he didn’t hear any splashing liquid. He wanted to look but
tipped his head back instead when Nick’s hand slid over his neck up
to his face. His thumb brushed Chris’s lower lip then pushed, just
enough, at the cut.

Chris made a small noise but his pulse was
racing. He’d been half-hard since Nicky had come into his space and
only just realized it. Nick might have seen it if he hadn’t been so
close, panting as he watched Chris lick at the tip of his
thumb.

Chris swallowed the salty, metallic taste as
his lip started to throb. “I thought you liked girls. Women.”
Whatever. He couldn’t think. Nick’s fingers were at his mouth. He
could feel them trembling. Nick’s eyes were right on him.

“You want me to stop?” he demanded
breathlessly, then grunted when Chris grabbed his jacket and hauled
him forward until their lips met.

It was hot and sharp even through all the
whiskey in the world. Chris opened his mouth because the pain made
him want more and Nick pushed against him as if the soft sounds
Chris made turned him on. Nick kept on kissing him like that, hard,
like he wanted it to hurt or like he could tell how much Chris
liked that it did, like he liked it too. Chris slid his hands
weakly under Nick’s jacket, grasping at his body heat and his cheap
tie, and angled his head back. It made the kiss deeper, made it
hurt more, and Chris couldn’t stop making these noises at every
little spark of pain. They all felt right.

He shut his eyes and felt Nick’s hands slide
uncertainly down his chest, over his shirt and then under it. Nick
pulled his mouth away from Chris’ mouth when he found the trail of
hair only to immediately bite at Chris’s earlobe. That didn’t hurt
at all. Chris liked that too.

“Chris.” Nick’s mouth came back over his,
sweet even with the sting. His hands were all over him, big and hot
under the waist of his jeans. “Chris. God.”

Chris was hard. Nick had to feel it. He was
so hard he couldn’t see why he’d ever waited except for Nick’s
heavy breathing and wandering hands. Except for Nick. “Nick.” He
just kept saying it and Nick undid his zipper and pushed his jeans
aside to cup his dick.

“Oh my God.” Chris immediately ducked his
head until he smelled leather and whiskey up close, until the
jacket was against his tongue when he opened his mouth to whisper.
He felt like he was throbbing everywhere. “Nicky.”

He thought it was quiet, but Nick pulled his
hand out of his jeans and just stood there with his chest heaving
and his eyes on Chris’s body. “Nicky,” Nick repeated as if he had
forgotten all about that name. Then he said it one more time, as if
he wanted to hear it again. “Nicky.”