Home Grown - 2. Part Two

September rolled around, and Reilly found the pattern of his day’s made easier by Brayden’s return to school. There was a month to go until the boy turned eighteen, but if it was possible, Reilly wanted to keep them here, in the town where they grew up, as long as possible. Brayden still had friends, kids his own age to hang around with and he still had growing up to do.

Like you’re all grown up now at the grand old age of nineteen. Reilly growled at himself. Dragged off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. Laying asphalt in early September was horrible, sweaty, sticky, hot and generally unpleasant. Reilly re-set his cap on his head then bent back to raking the loose tarmac into the edges of the concrete kerbing before the roller got there. The residents of Little Cotton Grove were not so happy about the noise and the smell, but Reilly had no doubt that the teenagers were going to have fun with the new surface. Skating on dirt and dust was apparently a lot harder. They scrubbed and flattened the new surface for another hour, then stopped for a lunch break. The boy’s waved him over for a cold soda and a bite to eat, but Reilly smiled and gave them the thumbs up. The guys thought he had some secret girl, but Reilly didn’t make it a secret where he drove at lunch.

He took the Chevy, drove to the little café on the corner of Elm and Main, got two cokes, two sandwiches, a bag of chips and a random flavoured slice of pie and drove over to the school. Brayden was sitting on the hood of his car in the lot, picking at his cuticles and looking generally unhappy. He perked up when he saw the big black truck heading his way.

“Lunch bro,” Reilly threw the soda underarm at his sibling, who caught it and popped the top before handing it back. Reilly grinned, drank and handed his brother the other can, “I got cherry pie today, your favourite.”

Brayden nodded, smiled, drank his soda and accepted the sandwich Reilly handed him with a small smile.

“Bray?” Reilly paused in his chewing, “Talk to me, what’s up?”

“Just people talking shit,” Brayden tucked his hair back behind his ear and Reilly felt his heart break with the sweetness of the boy, just a little, “It’s nothin’.”

“Which people and what sort of shit?” Reilly put down his soda, “I’ll decide if it’s nothin’. Didn’t I say I’d protect you?”

“Rei…” Brayden sighed, “You don’t have to act like everything is the end of the world. It’s not like the guys from the wrestling team starting roughing me up or anything.”

Reilly snorted.

“And by the time they do, it’ll be too late.” He turned to his brother and fixed him with a hard gaze, “No one is allowed to hurt you, or do you not get that I love ya?”

Brayden bit his lip and sighed into his lap.

“I would give pretty much anything right now for you to scoot over here and kiss me.” He smiled softly, but his eyes were sad, “It was just Brett and the guys from the squad making cracks about me being a faggot. They don’t actually know anything.”

Reilly snarled. It didn’t matter that it was sort of true, not that he would have used that word to describe the way he thought about his younger brother, but for years no one around here had disrespected a Jackson. There was no point, because Reilly was strong and he was fiercely protective of his younger brother. Once they’d gotten a bit more popular, as popular as two guys who didn’t date were ever going to be, Reilly hadn’t worried.

“Is this the first time?” Brayden was uncharacteristically silent in reaction to his question, “Is it?” Reilly snarled, “Where are they?”

“Probably on the bleachers with the jocks. Don’t Rei!”

But Reilly had already abandoned his lunch and was up and moving. Brayden followed, because there didn’t seem to be a lot of point in watching his older brother storm off without him. Brett Donahue had been on the periphery of Reilly’s social circle when he was at high school. In the year between the two brothers, he’d been held back because of his poor performance in the classroom and his good work as a wrestler. He wasn’t hard to spot. Apparently Reilly was, because when Brett saw Brayden, he started shooting his mouth of again, obviously not aware that the figure in work boots and the Highway Construction ball cap was the elder of the Jackson brothers.

“Heya faggot!” He grabbed at his own crotch, “Come suck on this!”

“Hi there Brett.” Reilly snarled, not bothering to hide his contempt.

Brett managed an ‘oh shit!’ of surprise before Reilly decked him, hauling him off the second bleacher by the back of his jacket, dumping him on the sand. His boot connected once and he growled.

“You stupid fucker, exactly how long did you think it would take for that to get back to me?” He let Brett make an attempt to stand before pushing him back down, “So what’s it to be Brett?” Reilly knelt down and growled in his ear, “Are you gonna take one for the team, or am I gonna have ta mess up your buddies as well?”

“Sorry.”

“What was that?” Brayden chipped in. He stood over the older boy, hands on hips, furious, “Can’t here you?”

“Sorry!”

“You’d better be.” Reilly stood up, flipping half a grin to his brother, dusting off his hands on his jeans. He fixed the assembled students with a cold glare, “Any of you wanna follow in his footsteps, you’d better believe you’ll find your cars full of asphalt. Do not think I’m fucking joking.” Reilly stuck his thumbs in his pockets, and turned back towards the truck.

After that, he was too hyped up to eat properly, so he demolished half the chips, drank the rest of his coke, and smiled at his brother.

“What’s after school today?”

“Track team, then I’m gonna study in the library for a bit.”

“OK. Remember-”

Brayden cut him off.

“I know, I know! Don’t leave school before five and make sure your truck is in the drive when I get home. I won’t come in if it’s not there, but I still think you’ve over reacting.”

Reilly ruffled his brother’s hair, because it meant he could touch him, but it meant he wasn’t close enough to give in to the overwhelming desire to hug him, kiss his lips and touch his body.

“Too many close calls bud. See you at home.”

Reilly drove off, but nothing about him wanted to leave.

They made good progress on the road towards the end of the day. He wasn’t late back from lunch, despite his extra-curricular beatings, but that just meant that he’d had less chance to actually talk with Brayden than he would’ve liked. Reilly knew it wasn’t fair, and even if Brayden had been any other kid, not also his brother, they would have to be as secret and careful as they already were. It killed him just to sit there and not lean into the boy’s shoulder, muss his hair and kiss him whenever he wanted.

One day, probably somewhere far away where everyone though he was just some dumb redneck, it wouldn’t matter. They could pass for not brothers, they looked different enough, and Reilly could get his name changed with a court order, and no one would be any the wiser. The fact that ‘one day’ was probably over a year from now, once Brayden had graduated, did not make him any happier.

The other thing not making him happy was Travis. Since the incident at the steak dinner, Travis had been coming around more often. Reilly was getting better and better at placing himself between his uncle and the boy he loved, but more and more, he was starting to think that Travis suspected something. Granted, Travis hadn’t liked him since the day in the garden nearly three years ago, but Reilly didn’t know if he’d actually suspected anything before. They were careful. They checked around corners, kept the lights off, but there was still the possibility that he knew something. So Reilly had made a new rule once school had started again, and Brayden had joined a bunch of clubs and never got home before five. If Reilly’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, he didn’t stop, just circled the block until his big brother got home. The system worked well enough.

When Reilly got home, the only car in the driveway was his mother’s ancient brown Chevy hatchback, and the only light on was the side lamp in the kitchen. Reilly left his truck at a stupid angle in the driveway and walked into the empty house.

“Hello? Mom?” Reilly kicked his boots against the sill to get most of the grit off before walking in. There was a note on the counter by the lamp.

Reilly, we went to pick your brother up from school and have gone to the new pizza place for dinner. Join us when you get back.

Love mom x

Reilly snarled, screwed the note up and shoved it deep in his pocket. The words that weren’t written were staring at him from the white paper. Travis would be there. Of course he would. Southern hospitality and Travis’s lack of a wife and family of his own meant that whenever he showed up, Reilly’s parents played host. Every time. He would be there. Reilly slammed the screen door on his way out, started his truck with a roar and glanced behind him as he squealed out of the driveway. Thank god they lived in a really quiet part of town.

Parked was not exactly what he would have called his efforts when he drew up outside the restaurant. Dumped was more like it. Reilly locked the truck and scrambled to the door, jamming his keys in his pocket. Only then did he realise that he hadn’t washed or changed. Father was not going to be happy with him. They weren’t in a booth, a fact which only made the band of panic around Reilly heart ease a little, and Brayden lit up when he saw him come in.

“Hey mom. Sir.” Reilly rubbed his hands on the back of his thighs, “Hey bro.”

“Go wash up Boy,” Reilly managed not to scowl at his father’s tone, “You should’a gone home and changed.”

“Sorry Sir,” Reilly bypassed his uncle as he walked towards the bathrooms. He wasn’t quite at the door when he heard Brayden speak, his chair squeaking against the floor.

“I’ll go find out what he wants to eat. ’Scuse me.”

Brayden shut the door behind him and Reilly whipped his shirt off over his head to wash his face and neck, arms and hands in the little white china sink. He dried off with paper towels as best he could, but before he could put his shirt back on Brayden had crossed the room and put his arms around him, burying his face in his older sibling’s chest.

“I smell.”

“I think you smell nice.” Brayden hugged him tighter, “I’m so glad you’re here now.”

“Did he…?” Reilly left the question hanging, empty.

“No. But he keeps looking at me like a dog with a chew toy. I wanna go. I had to sit in the back of the car when Father came to get me and I was so scared, but mom sat in the back too, so it was OK.” Brayden sniffed, “I don’t know how he plans to be alone with me, but I just wish he’d stop.”

“Hey, hey.” Reilly dropped his shirt on the side of the wash basin and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, “I’m here now, and you’ll be alright.” He tilted Brayden jaw up with one finger, “You trust me, don’t you babe?”

“Of course.” Brayden’s eyes were shining now, sadness and fear replaced by love and desire, “Of course.” He reached up, linking his fingers around the back of Reilly’s neck, and kissed him gently.

It was stupid, silly and irresponsible, but Reilly had felt starved of the other boy all day, and he was a teenager, so he kissed him back. Brayden tasted like garlic and butter, and suddenly they couldn’t get enough of each other. Reilly’s breath caught as Brayden pushed up against his chest, played with his tongue in his mouth and squirmed against him in the world’s most erotic manner.

The door opened with a bang, laminate chipboard racketing off the cheap tiles. Reilly’s first reaction was to jump apart, but he found Brayden’s arms tight around him and they stared at the doorway.

Travis.

Their uncle smirked, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrow and evil. It was too late, he saw, he knew, and Reilly snarled as he pulled his brother against his bare chest. There was no point pretending that they were doing anything else.

“Well, well. Reilly Jackson, who knew?”

Reilly growled.

“You ever try and touch him again and I’ll break every bone you have.”

“You should think before you open your mouth boy,” Travis turned to go back out into the restaurant, “You aren’t gonna be around to protect him much longer, not once your daddy finds out what you’ve done.” He left without a backwards glance and Reilly pressed his forehead to his brother’s.

“I’m sorry Bray.”

“Shush.” Brayden pressed his lips against Reilly’s forehead and hugged him before letting go and handing him his shirt, “We have to get out of here. Now.”

Reilly kissed him, fast and hard and urgent. There were months of planning and packing not done, so many things neither of them was going to get to say, to try and explain. It could have been different. It wasn’t going to be. Reilly tugged on his shirt and grabbed his keys out of his pocket.

“Run straight to the truck. Do not stop, do not turn around. Trust me.”

“OK.”

Reilly walked directly behind his brother. Travis was at their table, bending over the back of his father’s chair, using tight angry gestures when he talked. Eileen was crying, her eyes red rimmed and wet. Father looked up and saw him and Reilly recognised that anger. He was on his feet in the time it took to blink and Reilly pushed Brayden forwards.

“Run!”

They barged past customers coming into the restaurant, upset the seating hostess at the door, slammed out into the cool evening air. Reilly’s hand shook as he unlocked the truck, jumped into the cab, slammed the door. He’s barely gotten the keys in the ignition when Brayden’s door popped open, their Father with the devil in his eyes. Reilly didn’t hear what he said, just grabbed his younger sibling and pulled him away from the man trying to snatch him away.

“Rei! Go!”

Reilly slammed the truck into reverse, swung wide to miss their Father and pushed the Chevy into first gear. The tyres squealed out of the lot, horns honking as they pulled onto the road. The passenger door slammed shut as he pulled away. Reilly was glad he’d done for a stick shift as he barrelled down the rough roads towards home. Brayden clung to him, shaking as they drove, his strong fingers digging into Reilly’s arm.

He dumped the truck on the road so that it couldn’t get hemmed in on the driveway and turned to his brother.

“Get a change of clothes and your coat. Quickly.”

It was all hurry. There was no time to stop and breathe, think, deliberate about what they were doing. Father had looked at him with murder in his eyes and Travis had smirked like he’d won. Reilly knew one thing, that he would rather die than let Brayden get hurt by that monster and that if he died, Brayden would definitely get hurt. He wasn’t going to hang around long enough for that to happen. He dashed up the stairs, threw his other boots, a pair of jeans and a rough handful of t-shirts in a bag. He upended the mattress, snatched the sock full of cash and stuffed that in the bag too. Brayden stood at the foot of the stairs in his coat, Reilly’s leather jacket in his hands. The boy caught him as he came down.

“Hey.”

“Bray, there’s no time.”

“I love you.”

His father’s car was in the driveway. His mother stood by, no longer sobbing, just watching them, her expression unreadable. Travis looked pissed, but under that was a layer of deep satisfaction, and Reilly bristled to think the scumbag thought he was going get what he wanted. Father was standing in front of him, and his expression scared Reilly right down through the soles of his work boots. The man wanted to kill him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The angry words belied the shout that didn’t come. Father never roared, just spoke in a hard tone and lashed out with his fists.

Reilly wrapped his arm around Brayden and pulled him against his chest as best he could.

“I love him.”

“Disgusting!” Travis muttered, spitting on the driveway. Reilly didn’t miss his mother’s horrified look at the common gesture.

“He tried to rape him!” Reilly snarled, “You’re disgusting. I actually care about him.”

“Baby?” Eileen stepped forwards, bringing herself to stand at her husband’s shoulder. “Is this true?”

“What on earth are you on about woman?” Father snapped, brushing her away, “We’ve just been told that our sons are…” He obviously couldn’t get the ideas in his head into words, “Reilly is an abomination, and he’s dragging Brayden into hell with him.”

“Father!” Brayden took a step forwards, and Reilly realised the first time how tall his brother had become, how strong the set of his shoulder could be, “He’s not dragging me anywhere. I love him. And you’re brother is a molesting pig!”

The slap was deafeningly loud in the silent wake of Brayden’s shout. He gasped with the shock, turned and buried his face in Reilly’s chest. Reilly snarled, and his own hand shot out to send their Father reeling across the driveway.

“Don’t you dare touch him!”

Reilly was holding the boy back from the grabbing hands of his uncle, pushed away anything that came near, tried to get them towards the waiting truck. He had to turn his back on Brayden to deal again with his Father. The man landed a punch that set his head ringing, but Reilly answered with a right hook of his own, cut his knuckles on his Father’s teeth. Everything was blurred, confusion and concussion welling up and Reilly felt like he was drowning in the shouting, the yells and the frantic pulse of his heartbeat in his ears.

“Brayden, quickly, come!” His mother’s voice, frantic and urgent. Then there were small hands pushing at him. “Go, Reilly. Go.”

Reilly looked down, pulled his focus in to see his mother standing there, arms spread to protect them. Both Travis and his Father were bleeding, staggering slightly.

“Come back you filth!”

Reilly ignored him and looked at his mother.

“Mom?”

“Go darlin’,” She pushed at his chest, small hands that Reilly had forgotten were so soft, “If you love him, just go. Quickly.”

“But mom…”

“I’ll send transfer forms to wherever he needs. Don’t worry, just go. Take him away from anyone who might hurt him.”

Reilly was already in the truck by the time she finished speaking, the door was shutting, his fingers were already on the key in the ignition. And then he understood. Whatever his father pretended, his wife had not been ignorant. There was no mistaking that sort of pain in her face. She was losing her sons, and they were leaving her with a man who hurt her. Part of Reilly’s heart wanted to stop, to stay, to bring her with them somehow and drag her up into the truck as well. But Travis was starting around the back of the truck, heading for Brayden’s door, eager that his prize shouldn’t get away. Reilly found himself flooring the gas, shifting gear and then he, his brother who was the man he loved and the big black truck were roaring into the night as though every squad car in Louisiana was chasing them.

Reilly headed out straight towards the interstate, eager to take the ten and get him and his brother out of the state as fast and the truck could manage to take them. Neither of them said anything, and Reilly’s nervous energy and adrenaline kept him up and driving for hours. Only when his knuckles began to sting and he felt the aches of punches that had landed but that until now he hadn’t sensed, did he start to sag. They’d been on the road for nearly five hours, and had passed into Texas a little while back. When Brayden took his knuckles and kissed them, Reilly knew he needed to find somewhere to stop and pull over, if only for gas, snacks and the ability to clean his wounds. The shallow cuts on his hand stung where Brayden touched him.

The glow of a truck stop pulled him to the right, and Reilly killed the engine as he drew up next to the pumps. He started to get out, but Brayden’s hand stopped him.

“Thank you.”

Reilly felt his stiff resolve melting. Any minute now the reality of what had happened was going to hit him properly and he was going to turn into a useless wreck. He kissed his brother’s hand gently.

“I love you.” He took a deep breath, “I’m gonna get gas and go wash up. Here,” He handed his brother a twenty which he dug from his pocket, “Go in and grab us some snacks and sodas and stuff yeah? Long drive ahead.”

“Rei? I love you too.” Brayden gave him his most winning smile, “It’s OK, y’know. It’s goin’ to be OK.”

Reilly filled the truck with gas, and then made sure the emergency can in the back was full too, before wandering into the station to pay. The guy on duty was sleepy enough not to really look at him, just handed him the key for the bathrooms and took his money automatically. The bare bulb over the mirror did not cast a pretty light, and Reilly looked like his been in a fight. He washed his hands and face, dabbed toilet paper at his cuts and the blooming purple bruise under his eye, and ran a damp hand through his short hair again. He hoped that Brayden had been smart enough to grab his other boots, because the spare Western’s in the back of the truck were going to be too big for him, even with extra socks. Reilly knew they had plenty of money, but until he got a job he didn’t want them buy shit they didn’t need.

Brayden had bought soda, chips and enough sugar to power a small army. They chatted a little as they drove westward, both of them singing along badly to scraps of country songs and munching on their goodies. After another hour or so, Reilly swapped with his brother, and once he was sure that Brayden would be alright, pulled his cap over his eyes and took a nap.

The sky was that weird, pre-dawn bluish colour when he woke up, and they weren’t moving. Panic spread immediately through his body.

“Bray! What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” His brother’s hands were warm on his chest, pushing him back into his recumbent position, “We’re good.”

“What time is it?” The presence of his lover made Reilly relax again. He pulled at Brayden until the boy settled over him like a blanket, hugging him gently.

“About four in the morning. We’re just outside of San Antonio. I figured we’d get a couple of hour’s kip in the truck, then you can drive again. My feet ache.”

“Smart boy,” Reilly snuggled into his brother and took a deep cleansing breath, inhaling the scent of his hair, “I knew there was a reason I liked ya.”

“Oh, other than my excellent skills in bed?” Brayden chuckled, kissing his neck, “I love you bro. Go to sleep.”

“Sure.” Reilly made sure that his grip on the boy he loved was secure and tight before he let himself drift off again.

He dreamt of pizza, and trucks that were full of lynch mobs out to get them, and woke in a bit of a state just as the sun came up over the horizon. Brayden was still asleep, so he stayed where he was and waited.

They’d gone done it now. Brayden wasn’t even eighteen, let alone finished high school, and there had been no time to try and explain to their parents, not that their Father would have ever understood anyways. But they were out, away and hopefully, free and clear. They had the money, some clothes, and the truck. Reilly didn’t know of his Father would try and have him arrested, but he knew that he was going to want to get the truck painted over soon enough. They needed fake ID’s, he had to get Brayden into a decent school somehow, he needed a job and they couldn’t just sleep in the truck in San Francisco, if they ever got there. He shook Brayden gently awake.

“C’mon little buddy,” He kissed his brother’s cheek as he mumbled incomprehensibly, “Time to drive again.”

“Five more minutes…” Brayden burbled, then fully opened his eyes, “Oh, yeah. We’re not home.”

“Sorry babe.”

Brayden got up and shifted on the bench seat.

“Gonna go take a leak, ‘kay?” Brayden waved him off, rubbed sleep out of his eyes and jumped down out of the truck.

It didn’t take them long to be on the road again, breakfast made of sugar and snacks. The next time they stopped Reilly realised that they were already far from home. Everyone spoke differently, and looked at him oddly, both for his bruises and his redneck dress sense. They’d turned their phones off the night before and Reilly dumped them at the side of the road where they stopped for a second lot of gas and a burger each from a greasy little truck stop café. Reilly fiddled with his food, watched Brayden a lot, and hated the fact that they weren’t talking much. After that, they drove in shifts, ate, slept, chatted some and passed through the rest of Texas, which was very boring, into New Mexico. Reilly drove the portion of the road through Arizona as night fell again. They were making good time as they drove across the country, and every mile made Reilly’s heart ache a little more. He never figured that he’d actually miss home when he left.

*

San Francisco, the city on the water. Brayden was driving, Reilly was snoozing, the radio had stopped picking up country hours ago, and the people of the West coast were getting up and going about their business to go to work. Reilly woke as the engine died, and looked out of the windshield.

The bay glittered in the morning sunlight, the bridge rose proud and orange from the land. People walked to work, chatted, children waiting at the cross walk and stroking the bronze statue of the sea lions as they passed. It looked perfect.

“Are we here?”

“Yeah,” Brayden sounded as tired as he felt, and Reilly smiled as his brother snuggled into the space beside him, tucking himself into the curve of his arm, “We’re here.”

The silence was blissful. No more engine noise, no passing trucks. Reilly felt his pulse match the heartbeat of his lover and smiled into his hair. Gradually, other sounds crept in; the shrieking of gulls, the hiss and roar of the sea, the noise of the city. It seemed quiet in the little haven of the truck.

“We made it.” Brayden’s voice was soft, like the way he would speak at night, the secrets and thoughts that they would share in the dark, “We actually made it all the way to California Rei. I wanna live here and grown old with you.” Brayden’s hand moved over his chest, strong fingers against his heart, “It’s so beautiful.”

“It’s big.” Reilly shuffled until he could look at his partner’s face, “I think I’m gonna need ya to help me get on with a city this size.”

“Sure.”

“But maybe before we grow old here, maybe we can have lots of awesome sex first?”

“You bet,” Brayden kissed him, hard and insistent and more than a little inspiring. Both their stomachs growled at the same time, “But perhaps before that, breakfast? I would kill for something that didn’t come out of a convenience store and isn’t full of sugar right now.”

Reilly paid for a few hours parking for the truck, locked up, and they started to head down the boulevard towards the trendy shopping district by the pier. As they reached the pedestrian zone, he did the thing he’d always wanted to do. He reached out and took his boyfriend’s hand, in public and everything. Brayden’s smile was worth all the fights and shouting and driving for thirty four hours straight in the whole world.

They sat at a patio table outside a bakery and crab place, and ate clam and corn chowder out of bowls made of bread, even though it was nine o’clock in the morning. Reilly had tried to order sweet tea and gotten a strange look before Brayden had just gotten them cokes instead.

“I told ya everyone was gonna think I was cornbread up ‘ere.”

“You make it easy.” Brayden took his hand across the table, the pad of his thumb skimming over the little cuts on his knuckles. Reilly flexed his fingers. Those were cuts from fighting with his Father and his wretched filth of an uncle. He’d fought for his life, for the life that he wanted with the boy he loved. It seemed like a long time ago. “We should find somewhere to sleep and somewhere more permanent to park the truck. Or we could sell it.”

“No!” Reilly took a step back from the rising panic in his chest, “No. I mean, they could still be looking for us, we ain’t actually been gone long Bray. I want us to be able to drive away if we have to.”

“OK.” Brayden got up from his chair, and then settled himself sideways in Reilly’s lap, “Whatever we do babe, I’m gonna be with you.”

“That right sugar?” Reilly knew that he was smiling like an idiot as his brother closed the distance to kiss him.

“Yeah. And you’d better not lose your accent neither, or the hat or the boots.” Reilly arched an eyebrow at his brother’s words, “Wherever we live, we’re still just two home grown boys from tha South babe. That’s ain’t gonna change much.”

“Whatever you say boss.” Reilly kissed his boyfriend again and then again after that. It was getting very hard not to, now that they could touch in public.

For a while they sat, ate, and watched people going past. Two guys walked by, hand in hand, smiling like they were in love, and Reilly felt his heart thud harder. They were free, alone, away from harm, at least for the moment, and no one in the great big city minded about them at all. It was lovely.

“So what do you wanna do on your first day as a Southern boy in the big city then Rei?”

Reilly looked at his brother, into blue eyes, just like his own. At the easy smile, as though they hadn’t just driven across the country like they were being chased. As if he hadn’t known it before, the love he felt for Brayden Jackson hit him all over again, like a jackhammer in his heart.

“I wanna find a nice hotel with a big comfy bed, take a shower and then screw you until neither of us can speak.”

“Oh really?” Brayden grin hiked up at the side and his bit his lower lip, “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. And then I’m gonna kiss you some more after that.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“We might have to order in more supplies. Could take a while.” Reilly ran a free hand through the back of Brayden’s hair, cradling his skull to get better access to kiss him with force.

“Mmm-hmmm.” Brayden’s eyes were heavy with desire when the kiss broke, “This sounds like such a good plan.”

“Well then, let’s go babe.” Reilly paid the bill, left a decent tip for the waiter on the early shift, and picked up his young lover bodily as he stood. As it turned out, he wasn’t that tired.

“No more driving for a bit right? Just lying around on a big bed with you?”

“Sure babe. And just as long as we don’t have to watch anymore of that damn TV show, I’ll be happy.”

“Whatever you say Rei.” Brayden wrapped his arms around his neck as they kissed on the sidewalk like any other young couple in love, “Let’s go show the city what a pair of good Southern boys can do in a nice hotel room.”

“Be nice to have a full sized bed.” Reilly took his brother’s hand as they started back along the bay. There was still so much to do, so much could still go wrong. They were far from safe and settled, and it could all come crashing down around their ears at any moment. But right then, with the sun and the sea, the calling of gulls and the arm of the boy he loved around him, Reilly Jackson couldn’t bring himself to care. Here he was, loving and protecting the boy he loved, just like he always promised that he would.

Trams rang their bells, cars and delivery vans chugged up and down the hills, people went to work, fought with their loved ones, made up again. Gulls flew over the bay, trying to catch fish. Tourists watched the seals sleeping on the pier. Reilly and Brayden Jackson joined the San Francisco population for just another normal day in the big city.

And it was a good day.