Boxes (Lambs, TrickC ) AU Part 1/3
Mar. 26th, 2004 11:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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krabbypatty requested a ficlet with lambs and an AU. I did the ficlet, posted it, then kept on writing. Which led to this story.
I posted this as a WIP over a few weeks, and in that time some wonderful people commented, some every part. Thank you for that, you know who you are.
I also have to thank my beta readers, who went up and above the call of duty.kifty interlock jaciesplace and grainnesgeul they've all helped more than I could ever say, and all have my gratitude. Also, a special mention to tallories who also helped and did the most fantastic manip for this series that I can't wait to get on my website.
This wouldn't have been possible without them. I've changed things since they've seen this, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Carleen. This is for you.
Chris watches eyes half closed as he leans against the wall. He’s half hidden in shadows and his foot moves as he waits, dirty sneaker tapping against wet concrete. Chris can feel water seeping in and makes a mental note to cut more cardboard for insoles, the next job on his list after he’s done here.
The kid he’s been watching for the last five minutes is still standing next to the dumpster and Chris tenses when Elroy stands up, letting his ratty blanket fall to the ground. The kid looks scared and Chris doesn’t blame him. Elroy’s enough to give anyone nightmares with his bloated body, red- rimmed eyes and greasy hair. But the kid stays put, either too stupid or too scared to run when he has the chance.
“Fuck,” Chris curses when he sees the kid smile. Doesn’t he know better than to smile at strange men? Especially ones like Elroy. Chris knows about Elroy’s specialist porn collection, had even woken to the feel of fat hands on his body. A broken nose and a kick to the balls had made sure Elroy didn’t try that one with Chris again, but the kid apparently doesn’t know any better. Is still standing there, all white teeth, curly hair and bravado. Chris has to act, and fast.
Chris smiles himself as he steps from the shadows. He’s pleased to see Elroy blanch a little so smiles wider, showing all his teeth, then stops when he’s within kicking distance. “I thought I told you what I’d do next time you went near kids.”
Elroy steps back a little, then looks at the kid who’s stopped smiling at last. “Fuck you, Kirkpatrick. You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not leader of this place. You’re scum like the rest of us round here. If I want to talk to the kid I will. Got that?”
Elroy jabs a dirty finger at Chris’ chest, and Chris reacts instantly. Snarling, he grabs Elroy’s fingers, bending them back with brutal force. “One, I may be scum but I’m a better class of scum than you. Two, don’t touch me. Got that?” Jerking at the fingers one more time, Chris pushes Elroy away from him, then turns to the kid. “Come on. You don’t want to stay here, believe me.”
"For a moment Chris thinks the kid is just going to stand in the alley clutching his bag to his chest. Then the youngster straightens up and smiles suddenly. From a distance people might have thought he was happy, but Chris knows better. He can see the shivers that run through the kid’s body and the paleness of his face. He looks impossibly young and makes Chris feel impossibly old, but there’s no way Chris is going to leave him with Elroy.
“Come on, kid. Come with me. You’ll be safe, I promise.” Chris starts to move and he sighs in relief when the kid follows.
“I’m not a kid.” The words are soft and Chris keeps walking.
“My name’s Justin.” The words are louder this time, and Chris rubs a dirty hand across his eyes, stopping to look at the kid -- Justin. Who’s following behind, bag still clutched in his arms.
“You are a kid. You proved that when you walked into alleys like that and smiled at a guy like Elroy. You should be at home tucked up in bed, not on the streets.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not, and I’m not a kid and I can look after myself.” Justin sounds annoyed as he starts to stride away. For a moment Chris thinks about letting him go; it’s late and he needs to meet JC soon, but the streets aren’t safe and Chris won’t forgive himself if another kid gets hurt.
“Kid…Justin, wait.” Justin stops and Chris relaxes a little. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. Just come with me, at least for tonight. I have to meet someone, then we’ll go to the soup kitchen. You look hungry.”
“You know where to get soup? I’m starving, yo. We haven’t eaten since yesterday morning when we ate the last of the candy bars.”
“What do you mean, we?” Chris’ worry intensifies and he looks round to see if there’s a fresh-faced girl somewhere.
“I mean, Lance, my bo…friend. He’s waiting at a park a few blocks that way. I came to look for a shelter we’d heard about.”
Chris catches the slip but doesn’t say anything. Justin looks scared, as if the offer of soup’s going to be taken away now that Chris knows there are two of them. Not that Chris would take the offer away. “The shelter’s five blocks that way, but you won’t get a place. You have to be there first thing, and it’s not a place you want to be anyway. We’ll go get your Lance, then meet JC.”
It’s cold and Chris shivers as he starts to walk again, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. His coat is threadbare in places and he’s damp after a day busking in drizzly rain that has never stopped. Only a few coins are in his pocket -- people don’t want to listen to him sing when it’s wet -- but there should be enough for coffee after the soup kitchen, one of the few treats he can still afford.
Chris looks back when he realises he’s alone, then watches as Justin takes a step toward him, before stepping back; standing motionless looking at Chris. “Are you coming or what?”
“It’s just…how do I know I can trust you? You could be taking me to have your wicked way with me, or rob me, or stuff.” Justin looks from Chris to where they’d left Elroy, obviously torn about following or not.
Chris looks at Justin, then shrugs. “It’s up to you, kid. Come with me or don’t. I’ll tell you where the soup kitchen is and be on my way if you want.”
“You’re not going to rob me or anything?” Justin questions, and Chris resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“No, I won’t rob you. As for the anything, you’re a bit young for my tastes, kid. Now come on if you’re coming.” Chris starts walking, relieved when he hears Justin start to follow. “And hey, good call.”
“What.” Justin sounds puzzled.
“Not trusting me. It was the right thing to do.”
“Oh right, thanks.” Justin grins happily then remains silent as they walk. Justin is a step behind Chris, obviously ready to run at a moments notice, and that suits Chris fine. It means Justin has a little common sense at least, and also means Chris doesn’t have to talk. Something he doesn’t have the energy or desire to do after singing all day.
“There he is.” Justin says before running toward someone who’s sitting on a bench, hunched up against the drizzle that still falls. Chris squints as he looks at the person Justin’s running to, then feels like walking away when he finally sees him clearly. Lance looks almost as young as Justin, and Chris wants to swear. Two pretty boys together. They’ll be chewed up and spat out within days.
Chris doesn’t want to see the innocence stripped from their faces, but as he watches them embrace, holding each other for a touch too long, Chris knows he has no choice.
“I guess this is Lance.” They spring apart and Chris feels his belly clench when he sees the way they stand side by side, hands brushing together.
“Yes, sir, I’m Lance. Pleased to meet you.” Lance sounds puzzled but still sticks out his hand. Chris steels himself and grips it briefly, then steps back as Justin starts to explain, words tripping over themself in his excitement.
“Lance, this is…actually I don’t know who it is, but it doesn’t matter. He knows where to get food, and he saved me from this scary guy. You should have seen him.”
“Chris,” Chris interjects. “I’m Chris and we have to go if you want soup. I still have to get JC.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris.” Lance doesn’t offer his hand again but Chris can tell he wants to. Instead he picks up a battered suitcase and stands ready to go.
“So let’s go get this JC, then we can go get food.” Justin moves as he talks and Chris has to hurry to catch up.
“He’s this way, come on.” Chris takes the lead and keeps walking, ignoring Lance and Justin who whisper behind him. It’s too cold to dawdle, so they soon reach the street where JC’s working. Chris sees him kneeling on the sidewalk and feels his chest loosen at the sight. Walking closer, Chris hears Justin and Lance gasp in surprise and feels like doing the same himself. JC has excelled himself; the sidewalk’s a riot of colour, unicorns and rainbows entangled with dragons that snort flames. A total contrast to the grey damp concrete that surrounds it.
“JC,” says Chris softly, kneeling to get his attention. As usual, JC’s in his own world. His fingers are coated with chalk and his hair has streaks of red and blue running through it. His nose is yellow and Chris gently cleans off the smear of colour with the sleeve of his coat.
“It’s time to go already?”
Chris nods and starts to pack up JC’s chalks, pushing them into the box before emptying the coins in the hat into his hand. The coins don’t even cover Chris’ palm, but there’s enough. They’ll eat in the morning at least.
“JC, this is Justin and Lance. Justin, Lance, this is JC. We hang together; he watches my back.”
“Yeah right.” JC laughs, wiping his hands on his white t-shirt, leaving multi-coloured streaks across his chest and belly. “You watch mine, you mean. Hi.”
JC waves at the kids then smiles hugely when Justin moves closer, admiring the picture.
“Hi. Your picture’s beautiful, but won’t it wash away in the rain?”
JC looks up as if he’s just noticed the rain, then shrugs. “I’ll do another in the morning. You coming with us?”
“Erm. I think so.” Lance sounds unsure and moves closer to Justin. They look young and lost despite Justin’s air of confidence, and Chris knows JC has adopted them already.
“Yeah, they’re coming with us.”
“Good.” JC smiles in satisfaction, giving Chris a look that makes him glow inside. “We’ll get you some shelter later; I think Joey has a spare box. You’ll like Joey, he’s nice. But first, soup. It’s chicken night, right, Chris?”
“It’s Monday, so it’s chicken night.” Chris looks at the picture one last time, then starts to walk away. JC is talking to Lance and Justin, happy to have someone new to talk art with, but Chris stays silent. He’s got four people to look after now – he’s never felt so old and worn out.
~*~*~*~
The line’s long at the soup kitchen, but Chris waits patiently as they move forward. He’s hungry – it’s been hours since he last ate – and his stomach growls as the smell of chicken soup fills the air.
Justin is looking around, eyes wide as he tries not to stare at the people who line up. He looks shocked and he bites at his lower lip as he glances at the men in their ragged clothes, the women holding bags containing all their belongings. Chris tries to remember if he was ever that wide-eyed and innocent and decides he never was. Even when he did have a home, he was never innocent; even his happy memories are edged with grey.
Lance holds his suitcase with a white knuckled grip. He’s clearly terrified and stands hip to hip with Justin, eyes lowered against the blatant assessing stares they’re attracting from some. Chris can hear the whispers Fresh meat. Look at them. and he glares at anyone that dares look too long. The word needs to go out that Justin and Lance are under his protection, so he moves close to them, giving JC a quick smile when he flanks them on the other side.
They stand in a group and Chris looks around, meeting the stares of the others, silently showing the newbies are under his care. He knows the message is understood when people look away, only interested in their food once more. The code of the streets is a shaky one, but it’s there, and Chris knows Lance and Justin are safe for the moment.
“Do none of these people have homes?” Lance asks. He almost whispers and Chris looks sharply at him, ready with a sarcastic reply, but JC catches his eye, shaking his head and Chris bites back the words. Lance is just a kid, he doesn’t understand.
“No, none of them do. They sleep on the streets like Chris and I do. Maybe some of them are in squats or have a place in a shelter, but none have homes.” JC sounds sad and Chris marvels yet again at his ability to care for those around them.
The line moves forward and Chris can finally see the volunteers with their huge vats of soup. Justin, Lance and JC are all staring at the vats too and JC runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Chris knows JC is starving; neither of them ate during the day, and the muffins they had for breakfast were a long time ago.
“Listen, when you get your food, stick close to one of us. Whatever you do, don’t walk away.” Chris hopes they understand how serious his warning is. People have been attacked for less than a bowl of soup and a slice of bread. Lance and Justin nod, but don’t look away from the trestle tables where soup is being served. Chris fights the urge to shake them, to make them understand that this is serious. But the urge passes as soon as it flares and he reaches for the bowl JC is holding, moving closer to Justin as JC presses closer to Lance.
Chris holds his bowl out to be filled, mouth watering at the thought of his first hot meal of the day. “How’re you doing?” the server asks, the same question Chris gets asked every time. It doesn’t matter who serves him; they all ask. Sometimes Chris wants to answer honestly, that his whole body aches with cold and weariness, or ask them why they care. But he never does; just answers that he’s okay and moves away, trying to forget the look of pity he sees in their eyes.
JC is chattering to his server, explaining about the picture he created, bowl waving in the air as he describes dragon and unicorns. Chris sees some of the soup slop over the side of the bowl and JC stops talking when it hits his wrist, licking at his skin with an apologetic smile. Lance and Justin’s bowls are full, so Chris grabs slices of bread for them all from a heaped platter, then follows JC who’s herding Lance and Justin to their normal spot near the wall.
JC gracefully sinks to the ground, back to the wall.
“You can let go of those, no one will take them.”
He gestures towards the boys' bags with his chin. Lance looks unsure but carefully releases the suitcase he has been clutching one handed before sitting on it. Justin drops his bag, then sits next to Lance, gulping his soup even as he sits.
Chris hands out the bread before easing himself down, knees popping as he does so. Chris holds his bowl with two hands, enjoying the heat that warms his frozen fingers. Lance holds his bowl but doesn’t eat and Chris realises that he’s waiting for everyone to start in some kind of insane politeness thing.
“I’d eat that before it goes cold,” Chris says and Lance immediately brings the bowl to his lips, drinking steadily. Shaking his head, Chris eats too, sipping slowly, trying to make the meal last as long as possible. Justin’s finished already, using his finger to mop up any last drips, and Lance is not far behind, eyes half closed as he chews his bread. Chris still has all his bread and half his soup. He looks at the kids who’re holding their empty bowls and staring at the vats once more, then looks at his own bread.
“Here, share this.” Chris hands his bread to Justin, who looks at him in confusion.
“But, it’s yours.”
“It’s okay. I ate earlier.” The lie trips easily from Chris’ tongue and Justin accepts it without question, tearing the bread in half before giving some to Lance. JC makes a soft sound of protest and Chris looks at him, mouthing don’t. He knows JC, knows he’s feeling guilty that he ate all his food, but Chris wouldn’t have let JC share anyway. JC’s too thin; he needs to eat.
Draining the last of his soup, Chris stands and takes all the empty bowls back to the table. There’s still a line snaking along the sidewalk; men and women all waiting for their soup. None of them look at Chris as he walks past; he’s just another face in the crowd and that’s how he likes it. It’s safer to blend in; Chris learned that the hard way.
A shout attracts Chris’ attention, and he looks around to see JC standing with his arm pressed against the throat of a man, who’s held against the wall. JC looks furious, glaring at the man who’s turning an alarming shade of red. Running toward them, Chris can hear JC as he gets closer.
“How dare you touch that? It’s not yours,” JC presses harder for a second, “you’ve ten seconds to get out of my sight.” JC drops his arm and the man runs away without a backward glance.
“You okay?” Chris questions, relaxing when JC picks up Justin’s bag which is lying at his feet.
“I’m fine. He thought he could take Justin’s bag. Here.” Justin passes the bag to Justin who’s standing, white faced next to Lance. They look exhausted – heavy-eyed and pale – and Chris knows he won’t get his coffee tonight. He needs to sort some shelter out for them. Get them somewhere they can sleep before the rain gets any heavier.
“We going to Denny’s tonight?” JC asks, and Chris shakes his head. JC looks disappointed, probably thinking about the hot chocolate he usually has each night. But Chris knows he understands.
“Naw. We need to get back to the alley, see if Joey still has that spare box and get these two set up.” Chris thinks about what he needs to get, the box if Joey still has it, some plastic, blankets if the kids don’t have any.
“I think Joey still has it, he hid it behind his box. Joey’s nice; he’ll let you have it.” JC talks to Lance as he gently pushes him to start him walking. “Then when it’s done I’ll decorate it for you, make it beautiful. I bet you like horses. Would like you your box to have horses on the side? Maybe running in the ocean, and you, Justin, I think I’ll paint stars for you, universes exploding, at the weekend. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.”
JC is excited and Chris bites back a laugh at the look on Lance’s face as JC walks beside him, hands whirling as he explains his ideas. Lance looks toward Justin for help. but all Justin does is shrug his shoulders, as confused as Lance.
Chris thinks about changing the subject, but JC is animated, face alight as he explains his world of colour and beauty. Chris loves him like this, when JC manages to shut the realities of their world away. When he’s like this, Chris can almost see the colours and magic himself, and for precious minutes his world changes, grey tinged with brilliant colour.
“We’re here,” Chris says when they reach the fence and JC falls silent, looking around the same as Chris. Lance and Justin look confused but they stay quiet as Chris finally pulls a section of the fence aside when he’s sure no one is around. JC wiggles through the small gap, then beckons for the others to follow. Justin goes first, then Lance. There’s a tense moment when Lance’s case gets stuck, but Chris pushes from his side and Lance pulls from the other, and at last it’s pulled through. Chris slips through then, letting the fence fall back into place.
As soon as the fence is back in place Chris feels safer. Their shelters are hidden well and it feels like he’s coming home, even if that home is only a structure made of cardboard and plastic.
“Chris, JC. That you?” Justin and Lance jump when Joey shouts, but JC smiles, then runs around the corner. Chris can hear him babble about new kids and soup and Lance and Justin and they’re nice and Chris, then Joey strides round the corner, stopping suddenly when he sees them.
“You been picking up strays again, man?” Joey questions. But he’s smiling as he says it and Chris knows it’s okay, Joey doesn’t mind sharing their space. “Come on, don’t just stand there. Let me escort you to our humble homes.” Joey hams it up with a low bow and Justin laughs before following. Lance follows too, leaving Chris bringing up the rear. When he turns the corner, he sees Lance and Justin standing, mouths open as they look around. Chris can’t blame them; JC has decorated the place in his own special way. Free CDs hang from a string between two drainpipes, twisting and gleaming in the low light. Joey’s shelter is covered in drawings of Superman and disaster scenes. Chris and JC’s box is a mish mash of pictures, things JC has to get down. Unicorns stand next to space rockets that have sparkly fairies on them. There’s even a portrait of Chris, but Chris keeps that at the back. He hates the way he looks, all dark eyes and sullen expression. The brick walls are covered in paintings, colours vivid and faded in turn depending on when they were done. Chris forgets how the place must look to others until he sees it through new eyes.
“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” Joey is laughing at Lance and Justin’s open -mouthed expression. “C’s awesome.”
JC takes the compliment with a blush, then looks behind Joey’s shelter, pulling a folded down box out. “Is it okay if Justin and Lance have this? They need a shelter.”
Chris knows Joey won’t say no, but still it’s a relief when he nods before helping JC push it back into shape. It’s a big box, large enough for two people to squeeze into; Chris knows that, it’s the same kind he and JC use. Seeing Joey and JC have the box shaping under control, Chris pulls a sheet of plastic off the top of his and JC’s shelter, then throws it over the box once Joey has it in place.
Lance and Justin still stand side by side, their fingers brushing together, looking completely overwhelmed. They both stare as Chris pulls the plastic into place and Chris remembers another time, another place many years ago. He knows how frightened they are, remembers the utter terror and confusion of that first night sleeping rough and his heart aches for them. But they’re lucky in one way, at least they’re safe.
“I know it doesn’t look much,” Chris says, as he weighs down the plastic with bricks “but believe me, it could be worse.”
“He’s right.” JC says as he moves in front of Justin and Lance. “I know things are scary, and that you never thought you’d be sleeping in a box on the streets one day. I mean, no one does do they? But we’ll look after you, I promise.”
Justin and Lance still look frightened, but Chris expects that, he’d be more worried if they weren’t.
“You got any blankets?” Joey asks, and Chris hears him sigh when they both reply no. Joey kneels and pulls one of his own blankets from his shelter as well as a pile of old newspapers. JC does the same in his and Chris’ shelter, and working together they soon have the new shelter lined with newspaper and blankets.
“Go round that corner for a bathroom if you need to.” Chris points at a distant corner, then pushes the two to their shelter when they just stand still, almost asleep on their feet. “Go on, get in and sleep. Whatever you do, don’t go wandering on your own. JC and I are on your right, Joey on your left.”
“Thank you.” Lance smiles, polite to the last, then drops to his knees and enters the shelter.
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Justin smiles too, before following Lance. Crouching, Chris frowns when he sees the way they’ve lying, curled up facing each other, but with no parts of their bodies touching. Standing Chris pulls the plastic over the entrance to protect against the persistent drizzle, then stands, relaxing against JC when he’s cuddled from behind.
“You going to let them stay?”
“For now. They need to go home, C. They’re babies.”
“Yeah, they are.” JC sounds sad and Chris hates he’s caused that. Turning, he quickly kisses JC on the lips. “Coming to bed?”
JC nods, so Chris waves goodnight to Joey who’s lying in his own shelter reading an old newspaper by the light of his torch. Then he follows JC into their shelter, resting his head against JC’s chest. Chris is cold and hungry, but as he listens to JC’s heart, he knows there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
~*~*~*~
Chris wakes when the sun shines in his face. He yawns, rubs at his eyes, then gently detangles himself from JC’s hold. Squirming from under the blankets, Chris kneels, then covers JC back up as he mumbles in his sleep. Each movement is painful as Chris backs out of their shelter; his muscles are stiff after yet another night sleeping on the hard ground, so he stands and stretches, grimacing as his joints pop into place.
“Damn, that’s nasty,” Joey says and Chris flips him off as he continues to stretch. Joey grins in response and keeps putting magazines into his bag, singing softly to himself as he works.
Rubbing at his eyes again, Chris bends and looks in at Justin and Lance. They’re curled so tight he can hardly tell one from another, but he can see their hands, tightly clenched together as if they have to touch even in sleep.
“You taking them today?” Joey has stopped packing his magazines and is looking at Chris.
“Guess so. It’s not like I can leave them alone. Elroy saw Justin yesterday; that fucker was going to try it on before I got in his face.” Chris moves to sit next to Joey and picks a magazine off the pile, scanning through it even though he’s read it cover to cover multiple times already.
“Elroy? I thought that freak was still in jail.” Joey sounds concerned and Chris shares the sentiment.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just pleased I was walking past when Justin ran into him. The stupid kid stood there and grinned at him. Elroy was practically drooling.” Chris scowls at the memory, foot tapping in agitation. “I’m gonna talk to them today, see if I can get them to go home.”
“What about your spot? You know someone will take it if you’re not there,” Joey says, then falls quiet, obviously thinking as he packs the last of his magazines. “They can come with me. It’ll be okay.”
Chris is tempted. The last thing he wants to do is convince the kids they have to go home, but they’re his responsibility, and Joey needs to work. He can’t sell his magazines and watch those two at the same time. Not yet anyway. Chris knows how long it’s taken Joey to get where he is now, he can’t have Justin and Lance hanging around. Not when this job is so new, and Joey has so much to prove. “No, it’s okay. They can come with me and hang, be my ready-made audience. Hell, maybe it’ll encourage other people to stop.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Chris says it to convince himself as much as Joey, then puts the magazine he’s holding into the bag before standing. “I’m gonna go wake JC. You want to get those two up?”
“Sure.” Joey stands and looks into the new shelter. Chris hears him say Come on, you have to get up and Justin complains, saying he doesn’t want to. Chris laughs to himself, then ducks into his shelter. JC has cocooned himself in the blankets, the top of his head the only part of him visible, so Chris lies next to him, pulling the blankets down so he can see his face.
“JC. JC. You have to get up.” Chris shakes JC gently, then moves so he’s only inches from JC’s face. “JC. Come on, you have to get up now if you want to get washed.”
JC says something, Chris doesn’t know what, it sounds like gibberish muffled in the blankets, so he moves closer still, kissing JC on the lips. “Come on, JC. It’s morning and we need to get moving soon.”
At last JC opens sleepy heavy-lidded eyes. He squints and yawns before smiling, the huge crinkled-eyed grin that Chris loves so much. “Hey. Morning.”
JC pushes the blankets down further so his arms are free and pulls Chris into a tight hug. He kisses him softly, his tongue ghosting across Chris’ lips, slipping inside for a moment, and Chris willingly opens his mouth.
“Jeeze, you two. There’s kids here, you know” Joey says, expression amused as he peers into their shelter.
Justin is standing next to him, eyes wide. “I’m not a kid, and hey, don’t stop on my account.”
Chris pretends he doesn’t see the blatant curiosity on Justin’s face, hoping it’ll put Justin off from asking questions, but somehow he knows it’s a futile hope.
“You are so a kid, now go and see if Lance is up. We need to go soon.” Joey pulls Justin away with a wink and JC laughs against Chris’ skin. “Did you see his face? Poor baby.”
Chris laughs too, but stops before backing out of the shelter. Justin is sitting on the ground, bag in his lap as he rummages through it. Lance is next to him, hair sticking up in all directions. He’s holding his case again, and Chris wonders what’s inside that’s so important.
“So where’s the nearest public showers? We’ve been using the ones at the bus stations we stop at” Justin says as he pulls out a blue toothbrush. Chris just looks at him, unable to speak. Eventually JC replies, expression soft as he explains.
“There isn’t one, and even if there was we couldn’t afford to use them each day.” Justin looks horrified and JC hurries to reassure him. “It’s okay, there’s a public bathroom close by. We go there and wash up. The attendant turns a blind eye as long as we clean up and get out before the real users start to arrive. It’s good. There’s hot water and sometimes there’s this pink soap that smells nice.”
“I have to shower.” Justin looks like he’s on the verge of tears, and JC is chewing on his fingers with distress. Angry words flood Chris’ mind and he clenches his fists, fingernails digging into flesh until he can speak without shouting.
“Well, you can’t. This is the best we can do. You either do it this way or do without.” The words are harsh and Chris hates the way Justin recoils from them before looking at the ground. Lance reaches for Justin’s shoulder, squeezing it, and Justin looks up.
“Okay.” He sounds resigned and it’s only JC’s hand on Chris’ waist that stops him walking away. Chris has just seen Justin’s innocence crack a little more and he’s the cause. It hurts, but Chris knows it’s only the beginning, and that hurts even more.
“It’s not that bad, really.” Joey pats Justin on the arm. “You’ll get used to it. Then when we’re done, we’ll go get breakfast.”
Justin forces a smile, and JC smiles back before pulling a small bag printed with sunflowers out of their shelter. “Here, put your wash stuff in with ours. You too, Lance.”
“It’s okay, I’ll take this.” Lance is shaking his head, holding onto his case even tighter.
Chris is about to argue, but Lance is glaring. There’s no way he’s going to leave his case and they don’t have time to persuade him. “Okay, fine. It just means you have to drag it around all day.”
Shaking his head, Chris checks the shelters one last time, making sure the plastic covers the blankets, then moves toward the fence. At the entrance, he jumps and peeks over the top. There’s no one coming so he pulls the loose section aside and slides out. JC follows within seconds, then Justin. They have to drag Lance’s case through again but Chris says nothing, just starts walking quickly as soon as Joey hides the entrance.
“Hey, wait up.” JC runs to catch up, so Chris slows his pace until they’re walking hip to hip. JC says nothing at first, but Chris can tell he wants to. “He’s a kid, that’s all.”
“I know,” Chris replies and he does know. Justin’s a kid and he should be at home where he can shower and sleep in a real bed and eat as much as he wants. Lance too; they shouldn’t be here. “I’m going to try and make them go home.”
JC looks sympathetic. “I hope you can. But don’t be mad if they won’t. There’s worse things than being homeless, you know?”
“I know.” Chris reaches for JC’s hand. Looks around, then stretches so he can quickly kiss him on his lips. “I won’t get mad, but if there’s a possibility of them going back, they have to.”
“Or point then toward one of the good shelters.”
Chris stops, at looks at JC. “There are no good shelters.” He says, flatly.
“You know that’s not true” JC says, and he squeezes Chris’ hand. “There’s some wonderful shelters out there, wonderful people who’ll help kids like Lance and Justin.”
“They didn’t help me, or you and Joey.” Chris says. He doesn’t look at JC, he doesn’t have to, they’ve had this conversation a thousand times and JC’s never convinced Chris that the shelters and charity organisations can be a good thing; and he never will.
“I never gave them a chance to help, you know that. As for Joey, he admits himself he was out of control. They tried, but Joey didn’t want help. As for you…” JC sighs and links his fingers through Chris’. “I know you don’t trust anymore, and with good reason. But all shelters aren’t like that. Lance and Justin would be safe.”
Chris starts to walk, hand in hand with JC. He understands what JC is saying and he knows good shelters exist, he’s just never seen any himself. Chris trusts three people, Joey, JC and himself; anyone else is a threat. Meaning the kids stay where they’ll be safe, with them. “There’s no guarantee, JC. It’s too much of a risk.”
JC doesn’t reply, just sighs and leans against Chris when they stop to let the others catch up. When they’re together JC knocks on the door to the public restrooms. Chris hears footsteps, then the door’s opened wide by Brad, who lets them in. He says nothing when he sees Justin and Lance, just gives his usual smile before going back to his small attendant’s room. As far as Brad’s concerned they can do what they like as long as he doesn’t see them doing it.
Chris immediately turns on the hot water faucet at a sink, letting the water heat up as he strips off his black t-shirt and jeans. He hangs them over a cubicle door, then pulls handfuls of paper towels from the dispenser. Chris hears JC hum happily and knows there’s pink soap today. He’s glad about that; he hates when he has to wash with nothing but water.
The water’s steaming, so Chris wets the towels, using them to scub at his body. JC and Joey are doing the same, both of them stripped to their underwear. Joey is singing again – some show tune this time – and JC’s joining in even though he doesn’t know the words. Chris starts to join in too; he loves this time, when they’re warm and semi-clean. He loves the feel of hot water against his skin and the smell of soap, so different to the usual smell of dirt and sweat they all carry. They usually joke and sing, all of them carefree in the precious minutes before they have to pull on grubby clothes.
“I have shampoo.” Chris looks up and sees Lance holding out a bottle. JC is wide-eyed, practically vibrating as he takes it. Shampoo is a rare luxury; what little money they do get goes on essentials like food.
“Thank you,” JC says. He hugs Lance, then sticks his head in the sink, soaking his hair. He’s stopped singing, just makes sighs of contentment as he lathers his hair over and over before rinsing it. Chris can’t stop watching him; he looks beautiful, all sharp lines and skin beaded with water. Justin watches too, until Lance nudges him sharply before rolling his eyes at Chris. Chris laughs out loud, ignoring Justin’s injured expression, instead concentrating on JC who’s squeezing his hair out over the sink.
“Come here.” JC beckons to Chris, then pushes him so he’s bent over the sink. Chris shivers when he feels the water flow over his head, then JC’s hands massaging shampoo into his hair. JC is standing directly behind Chris, his groin pressing against Chris’ ass. Chris can feel JC’s erection pressing against him, and he quickly becomes hard himself.
Hands gripping the sink, Chris concentrates on Justin and Lance’s feet, trying not to shiver as JC moves as he massages, then rinses Chris’ hair. At last JC says he’s done and Chris stands, flushing when he sees Justin staring at him.
“You not washing up?” Chris glares, then feels bad when Justin starts to pull off his clothes without a word. Lance is silent too, moving to the last sink in the row before washing himself with a small towel he takes from his case.
JC offers to wash Justin’s hair, but he says no, face bright red as he avoids Chris’ gaze. JC shrugs, going to Joey as Chris pulls on his clothes, grimacing at their dirty feel and musty smell.
“I’m sorry.” Chris turns and sees Justin looking at him. He looks so subdued that Chris feels like he’s kicked a puppy.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” And he hasn’t, Chris knows that. “You’ll soon learn. That is, if you stay here.”
“We’re staying.” Justin says, chin up, his mouth nothing but a thin line as he stares at Chris defiantly. Looking at him, Chris knows Justin won’t agree to go home yet, if Chris pushes Justin will run, taking Lance with him and that’s the worst thing that could happen. For now all Chris can do is keep him close, and hope he can change Justin’s mind with careful questioning.
“Look, living rough isn’t a place for kids like you two. I bet your parents are looking for you.”
“I doubt it.” Justin’s eyes tear up again as he quickly looks at Lance, then back to Chris. “We can’t go back, believe me.”
Chris does believe him, but he has to try one more time. “Why? What’s so bad that you had to run away?”
Justin doesn’t speak, just looks at the floor as Chris watches him. Then he looks up and his eyes reflect so much pain that Chris almost recoils from it. “I’ll tell you, but not here. It’s Lance’s story to tell too.”
Chris sees Lance look up at Justin’s words, but Lance says nothing, just starts drying his hair, hiding his face with his towel.
“Okay, we’ll be going for breakfast after this; tell me then.” Chris feels bad that he’s pushing so hard so he gives Justin a quick smile before going to dry his hair under the blowers. Chris needs to know their story; that way he can decided if they really can go back.
~*~*~*~
The café looks empty when they walk in, but Chris can hear Sally singing in the kitchen and the smell of bacon wafts through the air.
“Hey, Sally. It’s us,” Joey shouts as he carefully places his bag on a table before moving to the counter. Chris makes sure the kids have sat down before joining Joey, leaning over the counter so he can peer into the kitchen. Sally is cutting buns as slices of bacon sizzle in huge pans and Chris hears Joey’s stomach gurgle, then laughs as his own does the same.
“You lot back again?” Sally says as she flips bacon; she sounds annoyed, but Chris knows better so he grins at her when she looks their way to scowl.
“We come to see you, beautiful. You know that.” Joey lays it on thick and Chris waits for Sally to respond, the same way she’s done for the last eighteen months, ever since Joey started to come to the café with them. She doesn’t disappoint, flipping Joey off with one hand while turning bacon with the other. Joey hams it up, expression sorrowful, clutching at his heart as JC laughs from behind them.
“You want the usual?” Sally questions as she layers bacon on three buns.
“We need two more today,” Chris replies, then looks at Justin and Lance who’re whispering together at the table. “Bacon sandwiches okay for you?”
Justin looks up and nods. He looks miserable; pressed close to Lance and Chris wishes he didn’t have to make them talk.
“Been picking up strays again?” Sally is standing at the counter, full plate in her hand. Joey takes it and goes to their table, and Chris watches as Justin and Lance cram the sandwiches in their mouths, taking huge bites despite the hot bacon. “They’re babies, Chris.”
“I know, that’s why they’re with me.” Chris turns and looks at Sally, fingers tapping against the counter as she stares at him.
“You couldn’t have taken them to a shelter? Or the police? Does it always have to be you?” Sally sighs and places her hand over Chris’s. “You can’t save everyone, honey. I wish you’d learn that.”
“I know.” Chris fights the urge to pull his hand from under Sally’s. She’s a close friend, has been for the last few years. But he hates the way she looks at him, like he’s something fragile. Because he’s not, never has been.
“If you say so.” Sally looks unconvinced, but lets him free anyway. “Come and introduce me then, before the starving hordes descend.”
Chris gives Sally a look -- he hates unfinished conversations -- but lets it go. Walking to their table, he waits for Sally to come over then points at Justin. “Justin. This is Sally; she makes the best bacon sandwiches in the world and I’m going to marry her when I grow up.”
Justin gulps down the food he has in his mouth and wipes his fingers on his pants before standing and offering his hand.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Sally grins and ignores his hand, kissing his cheek instead.
“Hi, honey. No need to stand on ceremony in here, and don’t listen to this goofball. Why would he want a fat old lady when he has this pretty thing?” Sally ruffles JC’s hair making him blush, before she turns to Lance. “And who’s this cute little thing, Chris?”
Lance flushes bright red as he stands, dropping the remains of his sandwich on the plate. He brings his hand up then drops it, clearly unsure what to do, so Sally kisses his cheek quickly.
Chris says. “That’s Lance. He has great shampoo.”
Sally looks at Chris, then ignores him, concentrating on Lance. “Hey, honey. Sit, eat up. I have to go get drinks anyway. You want milk?”
She’s addressing Justin, and Chris grins as Justin forces back his usual I’m not a kid comment before replying “Sure.”
Lance asks for milk too, so Sally promises to bring the drinks over, then pushes Chris toward a chair. “Sit already and eat. I’ll get the drinks; you all want black coffee, I suppose.”
They nod, so Sally leaves and Chris reaches for his sandwich, the only one left on the plate. It’s hot and delicious and he forces himself to savour every mouthful, knowing Sally won’t be working the morning shift again for two days. Justin is whispering to Lance again, face pale as he fidgets with the plastic ketchup bottle that’s usually in the middle of the table. JC is drawing on a napkin, using gentle pencil strokes to capture Joey’s likeness as he chews his sandwich.
The silence is edged with tension, and Chris knows he’ll have to start this conversation, so he swallows the last of his bacon and turns until he’s facing Lance and Justin. “You going to tell us now?”
Justin’s hand squeezes the bottle and a blob of ketchup dribbles down his hand. JC offers the napkin with Joey’s face on it and Justin uses it to wipe away the sauce, crumpling it up and dropping it onto the empty plate after. He stays silent, mouth opening and closing a few times, then Lance places his hand on Justin’s arm. Lance closes his eyes, opens them, then takes a deep breath.
“It’s my story to tell really. My fault that we’re here.”
Justin protests at that, but Lance turns to him, placing a gentle hand against Justin’s lips. “Let me tell it my way, okay?”
Justin nods so Lance drops his hand. “I’m from this small town, you know the kind where everyone knows everyone else? I wasn’t part of the popular crowd, but I was happy. My home life was great, I had good friends, I was in the choir and rode my horse most days.” Lance smiles and Chris imagines Lance’s home, somewhere happy and comfortable. Justin has hold of Lance’s hand now, pressing it hard against his own, and Chris gets a sick feeling in his belly. He doesn’t want to hear what’s coming. “There was only one problem. I didn’t want any of the girls that asked me to dances I wanted their boyfriends. Not that I told anyone. I’m not stupid.”
JC makes a soft sound of support. Chris knows JC understands the same way Chris does. Lance looks up and flashes a quick smile in JC’s direction, then keeps talking. “I met Justin last summer. His mom had rented a house and we met at the local mall. I was looking for a shirt, and he walked up behind me and said my taste sucked, then pushed this other shirt in my hand.”
“I was right, though,” Justin interrupts. Lance nods while smiling.
“Yeah, you were right as usual. I asked him what a kid like him knew about fashion, and he said more than a hick like me did. We sort of glared at each other for a while, then he smiled and told me to put back the shirt and we were going for milkshakes. That was the start of the best summer of my life. We talked every day and went to movies, then one day he…” Lance stops talking, looking around the table. “You do know we’re together, right?”
Chris wants to tell Lance he’d have to be blind and deaf not to see he was with Justin, but JC’s hand tightens on Chris’ leg so he just nods when Joey says, “We know.”
Lance goes on. “One day Justin kissed me. I pushed him away, because, hello, he’s younger than me and we’d never mentioned the boy thing. But he’s persistent and we ended up together.”
“That’s wonderful,” JC says with a smile, and Chris can tell Joey agrees. But there’s more to this story, the way Lance is starting to shake shows that.
“We fooled around a lot, and I guess we got careless one day. One of my momma’s friends saw us kissing in the field where I kept my horse. She told my momma, and by the time I got home, momma and dad were waiting for me. I’ve never seen them so disappointed. They kept saying I’d lied to them, but I hadn’t. I’d just not told them everything. But they kept saying I’d lied and how disappointed they were. They told me to go to my room, and my momma hugged me and said she loved me, but she needed time.”
Lance falls silent when Sally places glasses of milk on the table, then takes a long drink while Joey pours three cups of coffee.
“I needed to talk to someone, so late that night I climbed out my window and went to Justin’s. We talked some and he hugged me until I felt a little better. It was dark by then and I knew I had to go home, so I kissed him goodbye and went back down the road, just like I’d walked down it a thousand times before.”
Chris grips his coffee cup in a brutal grip when Lance stops talking. Lance is obviously shaking now and Justin takes the milk from his hand when it splashes over the side. Chris is about to tell him it’s okay, they don’t need to know, when Lance talks again.
“They were waiting by the big oak tree. My momma’s friend’s boy and his friends – my friends. We’d been friends for years, from kindergarten for some of them, so I didn’t worry about walking past. I didn’t even get to say hello before they hit me” JC murmurs oh baby, but Lance keeps talking, voice flat and expressionless. “I can’t remember most of what happened. Just flashes. Jimmy from choir spitting in my face as he lifted a stick above his head. Amber, the girl I ate lunch with, pulling at my hair. My dad found me later, lying in the ditch. They’d torn off my clothes and left a sign saying This is what happens to fags.. My friends did that. Dad carried me home and I stayed in bed for days. Momma wanted me to go to hospital, but I said no, all I wanted was Justin.”
“They didn’t even tell me,” Justin spits out. “My mom found out at the store when they were talking about the Bass boy who’d gotten what he deserved. She told them they were homophobic assholes and dumped her shopping on the counter. She tried to phone Lance, but his mom wouldn’t let him talk. I had to climb in his window one night.”
Justin wipes an unsteady hand across his eyes, attention totally on Lance. “We talked all night, whispering in his bed. We decided the only thing we could do was run away.”
“So you just took off?” Joey questions and Justin whirls on him.
“What else could we do? Wait until they killed him next time? Or should he have stayed there and listened to what a disappointment he was and read the Bible that appeared on his bed? It was all we could do.”
“Calm down,” Lance says. He pulls Justin close to him, holding him tight as Justin shakes with anger. “He’s only asking questions; it’s okay.”
They all stay quiet, looking away as Lance mops tears from Justin’s face with his sleeve. Even Sally’s stopped singing, and the silence is suffocating. Chris puts his hand over JC’s, holding it as Justin looks up.
“I’m sorry. It just makes me mad” Justin apologises.
“I had to leave,” Lance says. “They kept phoning when Momma went out. They said they’d kill my sister and burn down my house. I wasn’t going to put my family in danger for something I did. Justin wasn’t supposed to come, but he insisted and I wasn’t strong enough to say no. I never am; if I was strong, I’d be at home facing them, not here.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” Chris says, and he fixes Lance with a look. “You’re here and you’ve kept on going. You’re strong. It’s your mom and dad are the weak ones.”
“No,” Lance protests. “You don’t understand; they were trying. Momma said she hated what I was doing, but I was still her son. She wanted what was best for me; a wife and family like all the people in our town. I love my family; look.”
Lance bends and pulls his suitcase from under the next table. He unzips it and folds back the top. Chris can see clothes inside, a damp towel and the stuff Lance used to wash. But Lance pushes them aside and Chris sees a pile of books and photographs mixed with hand-written notes.
“This is my family.” Lance pulls one of the books free and opens the first page. It’s a photo-album, and Chris looks at a picture of a younger Lance with a woman who has to be his mom. She has her hands resting on Lance’s shoulders and a man has his arm round her back. A girl is next to Lance and they all grin into the camera, looking happy and sun-warm. “They love me, you have to believe that, but I couldn’t stay.”
Lance gently touches the page, fingers ghosting over his family before he shuts the book with a snap, pushing it back in his case.
“What about your mom?” JC asks Justin, who flushes, dipping his head.
“I left her a note, said I was going to my dad’s for a while.” Justin looks ashamed for a moment, then looks up, expression defiant. “I wasn’t going to let him leave on his own. I love him.”
Chris bites back a comment about how can he know love when he’s so young. Then he looks at Justin. “How old are you anyway?”
“Sixteen,” Justin says and Chris keeps on staring until Justin caves. “Okay, I’m fifteen, all right? I’m still not leaving him.”
“Fifteen. Fuck.” Chris feels like beating his head against the table, but looks at Lance. “Tell me you’re legal at least.”
Lance looks away and Chris knows it’s bad news. “I’m eighteen, but I’m not going back.” Lance sounds defiant and Chris knows he’s in trouble and sinking fast, because no way can he send Lance back now.
“Neither am I.” Justin looks just as defiant and Chris knows he’s lost that battle too, at least for now. Justin needs to go home and maybe take Lance with him.
“You can stay,” Chris says. He can sense the relief around the table, then feels the sloppy kiss against his cheek when Justin jumps up and hugs him, all long limbs and soft skin. Justin clings for a moment, then hugs Lance. Chris sees JC and Joey looking at him with expressions of support and Sally shaking her head from behind the counter. Sometimes, he thinks, it’s not worth getting up in the morning.
Part 2
fic_requests, krabbypatty requested a ficlet with lambs and an AU. I did the ficlet, posted it, then kept on writing. Which led to this story.I posted this as a WIP over a few weeks, and in that time some wonderful people commented, some every part. Thank you for that, you know who you are.
I also have to thank my beta readers, who went up and above the call of duty.
kifty interlock jaciesplace and grainnesgeul they've all helped more than I could ever say, and all have my gratitude. Also, a special mention to tallories who also helped and did the most fantastic manip for this series that I can't wait to get on my website.This wouldn't have been possible without them. I've changed things since they've seen this, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Carleen. This is for you.
Chris watches eyes half closed as he leans against the wall. He’s half hidden in shadows and his foot moves as he waits, dirty sneaker tapping against wet concrete. Chris can feel water seeping in and makes a mental note to cut more cardboard for insoles, the next job on his list after he’s done here.
The kid he’s been watching for the last five minutes is still standing next to the dumpster and Chris tenses when Elroy stands up, letting his ratty blanket fall to the ground. The kid looks scared and Chris doesn’t blame him. Elroy’s enough to give anyone nightmares with his bloated body, red- rimmed eyes and greasy hair. But the kid stays put, either too stupid or too scared to run when he has the chance.
“Fuck,” Chris curses when he sees the kid smile. Doesn’t he know better than to smile at strange men? Especially ones like Elroy. Chris knows about Elroy’s specialist porn collection, had even woken to the feel of fat hands on his body. A broken nose and a kick to the balls had made sure Elroy didn’t try that one with Chris again, but the kid apparently doesn’t know any better. Is still standing there, all white teeth, curly hair and bravado. Chris has to act, and fast.
Chris smiles himself as he steps from the shadows. He’s pleased to see Elroy blanch a little so smiles wider, showing all his teeth, then stops when he’s within kicking distance. “I thought I told you what I’d do next time you went near kids.”
Elroy steps back a little, then looks at the kid who’s stopped smiling at last. “Fuck you, Kirkpatrick. You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not leader of this place. You’re scum like the rest of us round here. If I want to talk to the kid I will. Got that?”
Elroy jabs a dirty finger at Chris’ chest, and Chris reacts instantly. Snarling, he grabs Elroy’s fingers, bending them back with brutal force. “One, I may be scum but I’m a better class of scum than you. Two, don’t touch me. Got that?” Jerking at the fingers one more time, Chris pushes Elroy away from him, then turns to the kid. “Come on. You don’t want to stay here, believe me.”
"For a moment Chris thinks the kid is just going to stand in the alley clutching his bag to his chest. Then the youngster straightens up and smiles suddenly. From a distance people might have thought he was happy, but Chris knows better. He can see the shivers that run through the kid’s body and the paleness of his face. He looks impossibly young and makes Chris feel impossibly old, but there’s no way Chris is going to leave him with Elroy.
“Come on, kid. Come with me. You’ll be safe, I promise.” Chris starts to move and he sighs in relief when the kid follows.
“I’m not a kid.” The words are soft and Chris keeps walking.
“My name’s Justin.” The words are louder this time, and Chris rubs a dirty hand across his eyes, stopping to look at the kid -- Justin. Who’s following behind, bag still clutched in his arms.
“You are a kid. You proved that when you walked into alleys like that and smiled at a guy like Elroy. You should be at home tucked up in bed, not on the streets.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not, and I’m not a kid and I can look after myself.” Justin sounds annoyed as he starts to stride away. For a moment Chris thinks about letting him go; it’s late and he needs to meet JC soon, but the streets aren’t safe and Chris won’t forgive himself if another kid gets hurt.
“Kid…Justin, wait.” Justin stops and Chris relaxes a little. “Look, I’m sorry, okay. Just come with me, at least for tonight. I have to meet someone, then we’ll go to the soup kitchen. You look hungry.”
“You know where to get soup? I’m starving, yo. We haven’t eaten since yesterday morning when we ate the last of the candy bars.”
“What do you mean, we?” Chris’ worry intensifies and he looks round to see if there’s a fresh-faced girl somewhere.
“I mean, Lance, my bo…friend. He’s waiting at a park a few blocks that way. I came to look for a shelter we’d heard about.”
Chris catches the slip but doesn’t say anything. Justin looks scared, as if the offer of soup’s going to be taken away now that Chris knows there are two of them. Not that Chris would take the offer away. “The shelter’s five blocks that way, but you won’t get a place. You have to be there first thing, and it’s not a place you want to be anyway. We’ll go get your Lance, then meet JC.”
It’s cold and Chris shivers as he starts to walk again, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. His coat is threadbare in places and he’s damp after a day busking in drizzly rain that has never stopped. Only a few coins are in his pocket -- people don’t want to listen to him sing when it’s wet -- but there should be enough for coffee after the soup kitchen, one of the few treats he can still afford.
Chris looks back when he realises he’s alone, then watches as Justin takes a step toward him, before stepping back; standing motionless looking at Chris. “Are you coming or what?”
“It’s just…how do I know I can trust you? You could be taking me to have your wicked way with me, or rob me, or stuff.” Justin looks from Chris to where they’d left Elroy, obviously torn about following or not.
Chris looks at Justin, then shrugs. “It’s up to you, kid. Come with me or don’t. I’ll tell you where the soup kitchen is and be on my way if you want.”
“You’re not going to rob me or anything?” Justin questions, and Chris resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“No, I won’t rob you. As for the anything, you’re a bit young for my tastes, kid. Now come on if you’re coming.” Chris starts walking, relieved when he hears Justin start to follow. “And hey, good call.”
“What.” Justin sounds puzzled.
“Not trusting me. It was the right thing to do.”
“Oh right, thanks.” Justin grins happily then remains silent as they walk. Justin is a step behind Chris, obviously ready to run at a moments notice, and that suits Chris fine. It means Justin has a little common sense at least, and also means Chris doesn’t have to talk. Something he doesn’t have the energy or desire to do after singing all day.
“There he is.” Justin says before running toward someone who’s sitting on a bench, hunched up against the drizzle that still falls. Chris squints as he looks at the person Justin’s running to, then feels like walking away when he finally sees him clearly. Lance looks almost as young as Justin, and Chris wants to swear. Two pretty boys together. They’ll be chewed up and spat out within days.
Chris doesn’t want to see the innocence stripped from their faces, but as he watches them embrace, holding each other for a touch too long, Chris knows he has no choice.
“I guess this is Lance.” They spring apart and Chris feels his belly clench when he sees the way they stand side by side, hands brushing together.
“Yes, sir, I’m Lance. Pleased to meet you.” Lance sounds puzzled but still sticks out his hand. Chris steels himself and grips it briefly, then steps back as Justin starts to explain, words tripping over themself in his excitement.
“Lance, this is…actually I don’t know who it is, but it doesn’t matter. He knows where to get food, and he saved me from this scary guy. You should have seen him.”
“Chris,” Chris interjects. “I’m Chris and we have to go if you want soup. I still have to get JC.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris.” Lance doesn’t offer his hand again but Chris can tell he wants to. Instead he picks up a battered suitcase and stands ready to go.
“So let’s go get this JC, then we can go get food.” Justin moves as he talks and Chris has to hurry to catch up.
“He’s this way, come on.” Chris takes the lead and keeps walking, ignoring Lance and Justin who whisper behind him. It’s too cold to dawdle, so they soon reach the street where JC’s working. Chris sees him kneeling on the sidewalk and feels his chest loosen at the sight. Walking closer, Chris hears Justin and Lance gasp in surprise and feels like doing the same himself. JC has excelled himself; the sidewalk’s a riot of colour, unicorns and rainbows entangled with dragons that snort flames. A total contrast to the grey damp concrete that surrounds it.
“JC,” says Chris softly, kneeling to get his attention. As usual, JC’s in his own world. His fingers are coated with chalk and his hair has streaks of red and blue running through it. His nose is yellow and Chris gently cleans off the smear of colour with the sleeve of his coat.
“It’s time to go already?”
Chris nods and starts to pack up JC’s chalks, pushing them into the box before emptying the coins in the hat into his hand. The coins don’t even cover Chris’ palm, but there’s enough. They’ll eat in the morning at least.
“JC, this is Justin and Lance. Justin, Lance, this is JC. We hang together; he watches my back.”
“Yeah right.” JC laughs, wiping his hands on his white t-shirt, leaving multi-coloured streaks across his chest and belly. “You watch mine, you mean. Hi.”
JC waves at the kids then smiles hugely when Justin moves closer, admiring the picture.
“Hi. Your picture’s beautiful, but won’t it wash away in the rain?”
JC looks up as if he’s just noticed the rain, then shrugs. “I’ll do another in the morning. You coming with us?”
“Erm. I think so.” Lance sounds unsure and moves closer to Justin. They look young and lost despite Justin’s air of confidence, and Chris knows JC has adopted them already.
“Yeah, they’re coming with us.”
“Good.” JC smiles in satisfaction, giving Chris a look that makes him glow inside. “We’ll get you some shelter later; I think Joey has a spare box. You’ll like Joey, he’s nice. But first, soup. It’s chicken night, right, Chris?”
“It’s Monday, so it’s chicken night.” Chris looks at the picture one last time, then starts to walk away. JC is talking to Lance and Justin, happy to have someone new to talk art with, but Chris stays silent. He’s got four people to look after now – he’s never felt so old and worn out.
~*~*~*~
The line’s long at the soup kitchen, but Chris waits patiently as they move forward. He’s hungry – it’s been hours since he last ate – and his stomach growls as the smell of chicken soup fills the air.
Justin is looking around, eyes wide as he tries not to stare at the people who line up. He looks shocked and he bites at his lower lip as he glances at the men in their ragged clothes, the women holding bags containing all their belongings. Chris tries to remember if he was ever that wide-eyed and innocent and decides he never was. Even when he did have a home, he was never innocent; even his happy memories are edged with grey.
Lance holds his suitcase with a white knuckled grip. He’s clearly terrified and stands hip to hip with Justin, eyes lowered against the blatant assessing stares they’re attracting from some. Chris can hear the whispers Fresh meat. Look at them. and he glares at anyone that dares look too long. The word needs to go out that Justin and Lance are under his protection, so he moves close to them, giving JC a quick smile when he flanks them on the other side.
They stand in a group and Chris looks around, meeting the stares of the others, silently showing the newbies are under his care. He knows the message is understood when people look away, only interested in their food once more. The code of the streets is a shaky one, but it’s there, and Chris knows Lance and Justin are safe for the moment.
“Do none of these people have homes?” Lance asks. He almost whispers and Chris looks sharply at him, ready with a sarcastic reply, but JC catches his eye, shaking his head and Chris bites back the words. Lance is just a kid, he doesn’t understand.
“No, none of them do. They sleep on the streets like Chris and I do. Maybe some of them are in squats or have a place in a shelter, but none have homes.” JC sounds sad and Chris marvels yet again at his ability to care for those around them.
The line moves forward and Chris can finally see the volunteers with their huge vats of soup. Justin, Lance and JC are all staring at the vats too and JC runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Chris knows JC is starving; neither of them ate during the day, and the muffins they had for breakfast were a long time ago.
“Listen, when you get your food, stick close to one of us. Whatever you do, don’t walk away.” Chris hopes they understand how serious his warning is. People have been attacked for less than a bowl of soup and a slice of bread. Lance and Justin nod, but don’t look away from the trestle tables where soup is being served. Chris fights the urge to shake them, to make them understand that this is serious. But the urge passes as soon as it flares and he reaches for the bowl JC is holding, moving closer to Justin as JC presses closer to Lance.
Chris holds his bowl out to be filled, mouth watering at the thought of his first hot meal of the day. “How’re you doing?” the server asks, the same question Chris gets asked every time. It doesn’t matter who serves him; they all ask. Sometimes Chris wants to answer honestly, that his whole body aches with cold and weariness, or ask them why they care. But he never does; just answers that he’s okay and moves away, trying to forget the look of pity he sees in their eyes.
JC is chattering to his server, explaining about the picture he created, bowl waving in the air as he describes dragon and unicorns. Chris sees some of the soup slop over the side of the bowl and JC stops talking when it hits his wrist, licking at his skin with an apologetic smile. Lance and Justin’s bowls are full, so Chris grabs slices of bread for them all from a heaped platter, then follows JC who’s herding Lance and Justin to their normal spot near the wall.
JC gracefully sinks to the ground, back to the wall.
“You can let go of those, no one will take them.”
He gestures towards the boys' bags with his chin. Lance looks unsure but carefully releases the suitcase he has been clutching one handed before sitting on it. Justin drops his bag, then sits next to Lance, gulping his soup even as he sits.
Chris hands out the bread before easing himself down, knees popping as he does so. Chris holds his bowl with two hands, enjoying the heat that warms his frozen fingers. Lance holds his bowl but doesn’t eat and Chris realises that he’s waiting for everyone to start in some kind of insane politeness thing.
“I’d eat that before it goes cold,” Chris says and Lance immediately brings the bowl to his lips, drinking steadily. Shaking his head, Chris eats too, sipping slowly, trying to make the meal last as long as possible. Justin’s finished already, using his finger to mop up any last drips, and Lance is not far behind, eyes half closed as he chews his bread. Chris still has all his bread and half his soup. He looks at the kids who’re holding their empty bowls and staring at the vats once more, then looks at his own bread.
“Here, share this.” Chris hands his bread to Justin, who looks at him in confusion.
“But, it’s yours.”
“It’s okay. I ate earlier.” The lie trips easily from Chris’ tongue and Justin accepts it without question, tearing the bread in half before giving some to Lance. JC makes a soft sound of protest and Chris looks at him, mouthing don’t. He knows JC, knows he’s feeling guilty that he ate all his food, but Chris wouldn’t have let JC share anyway. JC’s too thin; he needs to eat.
Draining the last of his soup, Chris stands and takes all the empty bowls back to the table. There’s still a line snaking along the sidewalk; men and women all waiting for their soup. None of them look at Chris as he walks past; he’s just another face in the crowd and that’s how he likes it. It’s safer to blend in; Chris learned that the hard way.
A shout attracts Chris’ attention, and he looks around to see JC standing with his arm pressed against the throat of a man, who’s held against the wall. JC looks furious, glaring at the man who’s turning an alarming shade of red. Running toward them, Chris can hear JC as he gets closer.
“How dare you touch that? It’s not yours,” JC presses harder for a second, “you’ve ten seconds to get out of my sight.” JC drops his arm and the man runs away without a backward glance.
“You okay?” Chris questions, relaxing when JC picks up Justin’s bag which is lying at his feet.
“I’m fine. He thought he could take Justin’s bag. Here.” Justin passes the bag to Justin who’s standing, white faced next to Lance. They look exhausted – heavy-eyed and pale – and Chris knows he won’t get his coffee tonight. He needs to sort some shelter out for them. Get them somewhere they can sleep before the rain gets any heavier.
“We going to Denny’s tonight?” JC asks, and Chris shakes his head. JC looks disappointed, probably thinking about the hot chocolate he usually has each night. But Chris knows he understands.
“Naw. We need to get back to the alley, see if Joey still has that spare box and get these two set up.” Chris thinks about what he needs to get, the box if Joey still has it, some plastic, blankets if the kids don’t have any.
“I think Joey still has it, he hid it behind his box. Joey’s nice; he’ll let you have it.” JC talks to Lance as he gently pushes him to start him walking. “Then when it’s done I’ll decorate it for you, make it beautiful. I bet you like horses. Would like you your box to have horses on the side? Maybe running in the ocean, and you, Justin, I think I’ll paint stars for you, universes exploding, at the weekend. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.”
JC is excited and Chris bites back a laugh at the look on Lance’s face as JC walks beside him, hands whirling as he explains his ideas. Lance looks toward Justin for help. but all Justin does is shrug his shoulders, as confused as Lance.
Chris thinks about changing the subject, but JC is animated, face alight as he explains his world of colour and beauty. Chris loves him like this, when JC manages to shut the realities of their world away. When he’s like this, Chris can almost see the colours and magic himself, and for precious minutes his world changes, grey tinged with brilliant colour.
“We’re here,” Chris says when they reach the fence and JC falls silent, looking around the same as Chris. Lance and Justin look confused but they stay quiet as Chris finally pulls a section of the fence aside when he’s sure no one is around. JC wiggles through the small gap, then beckons for the others to follow. Justin goes first, then Lance. There’s a tense moment when Lance’s case gets stuck, but Chris pushes from his side and Lance pulls from the other, and at last it’s pulled through. Chris slips through then, letting the fence fall back into place.
As soon as the fence is back in place Chris feels safer. Their shelters are hidden well and it feels like he’s coming home, even if that home is only a structure made of cardboard and plastic.
“Chris, JC. That you?” Justin and Lance jump when Joey shouts, but JC smiles, then runs around the corner. Chris can hear him babble about new kids and soup and Lance and Justin and they’re nice and Chris, then Joey strides round the corner, stopping suddenly when he sees them.
“You been picking up strays again, man?” Joey questions. But he’s smiling as he says it and Chris knows it’s okay, Joey doesn’t mind sharing their space. “Come on, don’t just stand there. Let me escort you to our humble homes.” Joey hams it up with a low bow and Justin laughs before following. Lance follows too, leaving Chris bringing up the rear. When he turns the corner, he sees Lance and Justin standing, mouths open as they look around. Chris can’t blame them; JC has decorated the place in his own special way. Free CDs hang from a string between two drainpipes, twisting and gleaming in the low light. Joey’s shelter is covered in drawings of Superman and disaster scenes. Chris and JC’s box is a mish mash of pictures, things JC has to get down. Unicorns stand next to space rockets that have sparkly fairies on them. There’s even a portrait of Chris, but Chris keeps that at the back. He hates the way he looks, all dark eyes and sullen expression. The brick walls are covered in paintings, colours vivid and faded in turn depending on when they were done. Chris forgets how the place must look to others until he sees it through new eyes.
“It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” Joey is laughing at Lance and Justin’s open -mouthed expression. “C’s awesome.”
JC takes the compliment with a blush, then looks behind Joey’s shelter, pulling a folded down box out. “Is it okay if Justin and Lance have this? They need a shelter.”
Chris knows Joey won’t say no, but still it’s a relief when he nods before helping JC push it back into shape. It’s a big box, large enough for two people to squeeze into; Chris knows that, it’s the same kind he and JC use. Seeing Joey and JC have the box shaping under control, Chris pulls a sheet of plastic off the top of his and JC’s shelter, then throws it over the box once Joey has it in place.
Lance and Justin still stand side by side, their fingers brushing together, looking completely overwhelmed. They both stare as Chris pulls the plastic into place and Chris remembers another time, another place many years ago. He knows how frightened they are, remembers the utter terror and confusion of that first night sleeping rough and his heart aches for them. But they’re lucky in one way, at least they’re safe.
“I know it doesn’t look much,” Chris says, as he weighs down the plastic with bricks “but believe me, it could be worse.”
“He’s right.” JC says as he moves in front of Justin and Lance. “I know things are scary, and that you never thought you’d be sleeping in a box on the streets one day. I mean, no one does do they? But we’ll look after you, I promise.”
Justin and Lance still look frightened, but Chris expects that, he’d be more worried if they weren’t.
“You got any blankets?” Joey asks, and Chris hears him sigh when they both reply no. Joey kneels and pulls one of his own blankets from his shelter as well as a pile of old newspapers. JC does the same in his and Chris’ shelter, and working together they soon have the new shelter lined with newspaper and blankets.
“Go round that corner for a bathroom if you need to.” Chris points at a distant corner, then pushes the two to their shelter when they just stand still, almost asleep on their feet. “Go on, get in and sleep. Whatever you do, don’t go wandering on your own. JC and I are on your right, Joey on your left.”
“Thank you.” Lance smiles, polite to the last, then drops to his knees and enters the shelter.
“Yeah, thanks, man.” Justin smiles too, before following Lance. Crouching, Chris frowns when he sees the way they’ve lying, curled up facing each other, but with no parts of their bodies touching. Standing Chris pulls the plastic over the entrance to protect against the persistent drizzle, then stands, relaxing against JC when he’s cuddled from behind.
“You going to let them stay?”
“For now. They need to go home, C. They’re babies.”
“Yeah, they are.” JC sounds sad and Chris hates he’s caused that. Turning, he quickly kisses JC on the lips. “Coming to bed?”
JC nods, so Chris waves goodnight to Joey who’s lying in his own shelter reading an old newspaper by the light of his torch. Then he follows JC into their shelter, resting his head against JC’s chest. Chris is cold and hungry, but as he listens to JC’s heart, he knows there’s nowhere he’d rather be.
~*~*~*~
Chris wakes when the sun shines in his face. He yawns, rubs at his eyes, then gently detangles himself from JC’s hold. Squirming from under the blankets, Chris kneels, then covers JC back up as he mumbles in his sleep. Each movement is painful as Chris backs out of their shelter; his muscles are stiff after yet another night sleeping on the hard ground, so he stands and stretches, grimacing as his joints pop into place.
“Damn, that’s nasty,” Joey says and Chris flips him off as he continues to stretch. Joey grins in response and keeps putting magazines into his bag, singing softly to himself as he works.
Rubbing at his eyes again, Chris bends and looks in at Justin and Lance. They’re curled so tight he can hardly tell one from another, but he can see their hands, tightly clenched together as if they have to touch even in sleep.
“You taking them today?” Joey has stopped packing his magazines and is looking at Chris.
“Guess so. It’s not like I can leave them alone. Elroy saw Justin yesterday; that fucker was going to try it on before I got in his face.” Chris moves to sit next to Joey and picks a magazine off the pile, scanning through it even though he’s read it cover to cover multiple times already.
“Elroy? I thought that freak was still in jail.” Joey sounds concerned and Chris shares the sentiment.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just pleased I was walking past when Justin ran into him. The stupid kid stood there and grinned at him. Elroy was practically drooling.” Chris scowls at the memory, foot tapping in agitation. “I’m gonna talk to them today, see if I can get them to go home.”
“What about your spot? You know someone will take it if you’re not there,” Joey says, then falls quiet, obviously thinking as he packs the last of his magazines. “They can come with me. It’ll be okay.”
Chris is tempted. The last thing he wants to do is convince the kids they have to go home, but they’re his responsibility, and Joey needs to work. He can’t sell his magazines and watch those two at the same time. Not yet anyway. Chris knows how long it’s taken Joey to get where he is now, he can’t have Justin and Lance hanging around. Not when this job is so new, and Joey has so much to prove. “No, it’s okay. They can come with me and hang, be my ready-made audience. Hell, maybe it’ll encourage other people to stop.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” Chris says it to convince himself as much as Joey, then puts the magazine he’s holding into the bag before standing. “I’m gonna go wake JC. You want to get those two up?”
“Sure.” Joey stands and looks into the new shelter. Chris hears him say Come on, you have to get up and Justin complains, saying he doesn’t want to. Chris laughs to himself, then ducks into his shelter. JC has cocooned himself in the blankets, the top of his head the only part of him visible, so Chris lies next to him, pulling the blankets down so he can see his face.
“JC. JC. You have to get up.” Chris shakes JC gently, then moves so he’s only inches from JC’s face. “JC. Come on, you have to get up now if you want to get washed.”
JC says something, Chris doesn’t know what, it sounds like gibberish muffled in the blankets, so he moves closer still, kissing JC on the lips. “Come on, JC. It’s morning and we need to get moving soon.”
At last JC opens sleepy heavy-lidded eyes. He squints and yawns before smiling, the huge crinkled-eyed grin that Chris loves so much. “Hey. Morning.”
JC pushes the blankets down further so his arms are free and pulls Chris into a tight hug. He kisses him softly, his tongue ghosting across Chris’ lips, slipping inside for a moment, and Chris willingly opens his mouth.
“Jeeze, you two. There’s kids here, you know” Joey says, expression amused as he peers into their shelter.
Justin is standing next to him, eyes wide. “I’m not a kid, and hey, don’t stop on my account.”
Chris pretends he doesn’t see the blatant curiosity on Justin’s face, hoping it’ll put Justin off from asking questions, but somehow he knows it’s a futile hope.
“You are so a kid, now go and see if Lance is up. We need to go soon.” Joey pulls Justin away with a wink and JC laughs against Chris’ skin. “Did you see his face? Poor baby.”
Chris laughs too, but stops before backing out of the shelter. Justin is sitting on the ground, bag in his lap as he rummages through it. Lance is next to him, hair sticking up in all directions. He’s holding his case again, and Chris wonders what’s inside that’s so important.
“So where’s the nearest public showers? We’ve been using the ones at the bus stations we stop at” Justin says as he pulls out a blue toothbrush. Chris just looks at him, unable to speak. Eventually JC replies, expression soft as he explains.
“There isn’t one, and even if there was we couldn’t afford to use them each day.” Justin looks horrified and JC hurries to reassure him. “It’s okay, there’s a public bathroom close by. We go there and wash up. The attendant turns a blind eye as long as we clean up and get out before the real users start to arrive. It’s good. There’s hot water and sometimes there’s this pink soap that smells nice.”
“I have to shower.” Justin looks like he’s on the verge of tears, and JC is chewing on his fingers with distress. Angry words flood Chris’ mind and he clenches his fists, fingernails digging into flesh until he can speak without shouting.
“Well, you can’t. This is the best we can do. You either do it this way or do without.” The words are harsh and Chris hates the way Justin recoils from them before looking at the ground. Lance reaches for Justin’s shoulder, squeezing it, and Justin looks up.
“Okay.” He sounds resigned and it’s only JC’s hand on Chris’ waist that stops him walking away. Chris has just seen Justin’s innocence crack a little more and he’s the cause. It hurts, but Chris knows it’s only the beginning, and that hurts even more.
“It’s not that bad, really.” Joey pats Justin on the arm. “You’ll get used to it. Then when we’re done, we’ll go get breakfast.”
Justin forces a smile, and JC smiles back before pulling a small bag printed with sunflowers out of their shelter. “Here, put your wash stuff in with ours. You too, Lance.”
“It’s okay, I’ll take this.” Lance is shaking his head, holding onto his case even tighter.
Chris is about to argue, but Lance is glaring. There’s no way he’s going to leave his case and they don’t have time to persuade him. “Okay, fine. It just means you have to drag it around all day.”
Shaking his head, Chris checks the shelters one last time, making sure the plastic covers the blankets, then moves toward the fence. At the entrance, he jumps and peeks over the top. There’s no one coming so he pulls the loose section aside and slides out. JC follows within seconds, then Justin. They have to drag Lance’s case through again but Chris says nothing, just starts walking quickly as soon as Joey hides the entrance.
“Hey, wait up.” JC runs to catch up, so Chris slows his pace until they’re walking hip to hip. JC says nothing at first, but Chris can tell he wants to. “He’s a kid, that’s all.”
“I know,” Chris replies and he does know. Justin’s a kid and he should be at home where he can shower and sleep in a real bed and eat as much as he wants. Lance too; they shouldn’t be here. “I’m going to try and make them go home.”
JC looks sympathetic. “I hope you can. But don’t be mad if they won’t. There’s worse things than being homeless, you know?”
“I know.” Chris reaches for JC’s hand. Looks around, then stretches so he can quickly kiss him on his lips. “I won’t get mad, but if there’s a possibility of them going back, they have to.”
“Or point then toward one of the good shelters.”
Chris stops, at looks at JC. “There are no good shelters.” He says, flatly.
“You know that’s not true” JC says, and he squeezes Chris’ hand. “There’s some wonderful shelters out there, wonderful people who’ll help kids like Lance and Justin.”
“They didn’t help me, or you and Joey.” Chris says. He doesn’t look at JC, he doesn’t have to, they’ve had this conversation a thousand times and JC’s never convinced Chris that the shelters and charity organisations can be a good thing; and he never will.
“I never gave them a chance to help, you know that. As for Joey, he admits himself he was out of control. They tried, but Joey didn’t want help. As for you…” JC sighs and links his fingers through Chris’. “I know you don’t trust anymore, and with good reason. But all shelters aren’t like that. Lance and Justin would be safe.”
Chris starts to walk, hand in hand with JC. He understands what JC is saying and he knows good shelters exist, he’s just never seen any himself. Chris trusts three people, Joey, JC and himself; anyone else is a threat. Meaning the kids stay where they’ll be safe, with them. “There’s no guarantee, JC. It’s too much of a risk.”
JC doesn’t reply, just sighs and leans against Chris when they stop to let the others catch up. When they’re together JC knocks on the door to the public restrooms. Chris hears footsteps, then the door’s opened wide by Brad, who lets them in. He says nothing when he sees Justin and Lance, just gives his usual smile before going back to his small attendant’s room. As far as Brad’s concerned they can do what they like as long as he doesn’t see them doing it.
Chris immediately turns on the hot water faucet at a sink, letting the water heat up as he strips off his black t-shirt and jeans. He hangs them over a cubicle door, then pulls handfuls of paper towels from the dispenser. Chris hears JC hum happily and knows there’s pink soap today. He’s glad about that; he hates when he has to wash with nothing but water.
The water’s steaming, so Chris wets the towels, using them to scub at his body. JC and Joey are doing the same, both of them stripped to their underwear. Joey is singing again – some show tune this time – and JC’s joining in even though he doesn’t know the words. Chris starts to join in too; he loves this time, when they’re warm and semi-clean. He loves the feel of hot water against his skin and the smell of soap, so different to the usual smell of dirt and sweat they all carry. They usually joke and sing, all of them carefree in the precious minutes before they have to pull on grubby clothes.
“I have shampoo.” Chris looks up and sees Lance holding out a bottle. JC is wide-eyed, practically vibrating as he takes it. Shampoo is a rare luxury; what little money they do get goes on essentials like food.
“Thank you,” JC says. He hugs Lance, then sticks his head in the sink, soaking his hair. He’s stopped singing, just makes sighs of contentment as he lathers his hair over and over before rinsing it. Chris can’t stop watching him; he looks beautiful, all sharp lines and skin beaded with water. Justin watches too, until Lance nudges him sharply before rolling his eyes at Chris. Chris laughs out loud, ignoring Justin’s injured expression, instead concentrating on JC who’s squeezing his hair out over the sink.
“Come here.” JC beckons to Chris, then pushes him so he’s bent over the sink. Chris shivers when he feels the water flow over his head, then JC’s hands massaging shampoo into his hair. JC is standing directly behind Chris, his groin pressing against Chris’ ass. Chris can feel JC’s erection pressing against him, and he quickly becomes hard himself.
Hands gripping the sink, Chris concentrates on Justin and Lance’s feet, trying not to shiver as JC moves as he massages, then rinses Chris’ hair. At last JC says he’s done and Chris stands, flushing when he sees Justin staring at him.
“You not washing up?” Chris glares, then feels bad when Justin starts to pull off his clothes without a word. Lance is silent too, moving to the last sink in the row before washing himself with a small towel he takes from his case.
JC offers to wash Justin’s hair, but he says no, face bright red as he avoids Chris’ gaze. JC shrugs, going to Joey as Chris pulls on his clothes, grimacing at their dirty feel and musty smell.
“I’m sorry.” Chris turns and sees Justin looking at him. He looks so subdued that Chris feels like he’s kicked a puppy.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” And he hasn’t, Chris knows that. “You’ll soon learn. That is, if you stay here.”
“We’re staying.” Justin says, chin up, his mouth nothing but a thin line as he stares at Chris defiantly. Looking at him, Chris knows Justin won’t agree to go home yet, if Chris pushes Justin will run, taking Lance with him and that’s the worst thing that could happen. For now all Chris can do is keep him close, and hope he can change Justin’s mind with careful questioning.
“Look, living rough isn’t a place for kids like you two. I bet your parents are looking for you.”
“I doubt it.” Justin’s eyes tear up again as he quickly looks at Lance, then back to Chris. “We can’t go back, believe me.”
Chris does believe him, but he has to try one more time. “Why? What’s so bad that you had to run away?”
Justin doesn’t speak, just looks at the floor as Chris watches him. Then he looks up and his eyes reflect so much pain that Chris almost recoils from it. “I’ll tell you, but not here. It’s Lance’s story to tell too.”
Chris sees Lance look up at Justin’s words, but Lance says nothing, just starts drying his hair, hiding his face with his towel.
“Okay, we’ll be going for breakfast after this; tell me then.” Chris feels bad that he’s pushing so hard so he gives Justin a quick smile before going to dry his hair under the blowers. Chris needs to know their story; that way he can decided if they really can go back.
~*~*~*~
The café looks empty when they walk in, but Chris can hear Sally singing in the kitchen and the smell of bacon wafts through the air.
“Hey, Sally. It’s us,” Joey shouts as he carefully places his bag on a table before moving to the counter. Chris makes sure the kids have sat down before joining Joey, leaning over the counter so he can peer into the kitchen. Sally is cutting buns as slices of bacon sizzle in huge pans and Chris hears Joey’s stomach gurgle, then laughs as his own does the same.
“You lot back again?” Sally says as she flips bacon; she sounds annoyed, but Chris knows better so he grins at her when she looks their way to scowl.
“We come to see you, beautiful. You know that.” Joey lays it on thick and Chris waits for Sally to respond, the same way she’s done for the last eighteen months, ever since Joey started to come to the café with them. She doesn’t disappoint, flipping Joey off with one hand while turning bacon with the other. Joey hams it up, expression sorrowful, clutching at his heart as JC laughs from behind them.
“You want the usual?” Sally questions as she layers bacon on three buns.
“We need two more today,” Chris replies, then looks at Justin and Lance who’re whispering together at the table. “Bacon sandwiches okay for you?”
Justin looks up and nods. He looks miserable; pressed close to Lance and Chris wishes he didn’t have to make them talk.
“Been picking up strays again?” Sally is standing at the counter, full plate in her hand. Joey takes it and goes to their table, and Chris watches as Justin and Lance cram the sandwiches in their mouths, taking huge bites despite the hot bacon. “They’re babies, Chris.”
“I know, that’s why they’re with me.” Chris turns and looks at Sally, fingers tapping against the counter as she stares at him.
“You couldn’t have taken them to a shelter? Or the police? Does it always have to be you?” Sally sighs and places her hand over Chris’s. “You can’t save everyone, honey. I wish you’d learn that.”
“I know.” Chris fights the urge to pull his hand from under Sally’s. She’s a close friend, has been for the last few years. But he hates the way she looks at him, like he’s something fragile. Because he’s not, never has been.
“If you say so.” Sally looks unconvinced, but lets him free anyway. “Come and introduce me then, before the starving hordes descend.”
Chris gives Sally a look -- he hates unfinished conversations -- but lets it go. Walking to their table, he waits for Sally to come over then points at Justin. “Justin. This is Sally; she makes the best bacon sandwiches in the world and I’m going to marry her when I grow up.”
Justin gulps down the food he has in his mouth and wipes his fingers on his pants before standing and offering his hand.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Sally grins and ignores his hand, kissing his cheek instead.
“Hi, honey. No need to stand on ceremony in here, and don’t listen to this goofball. Why would he want a fat old lady when he has this pretty thing?” Sally ruffles JC’s hair making him blush, before she turns to Lance. “And who’s this cute little thing, Chris?”
Lance flushes bright red as he stands, dropping the remains of his sandwich on the plate. He brings his hand up then drops it, clearly unsure what to do, so Sally kisses his cheek quickly.
Chris says. “That’s Lance. He has great shampoo.”
Sally looks at Chris, then ignores him, concentrating on Lance. “Hey, honey. Sit, eat up. I have to go get drinks anyway. You want milk?”
She’s addressing Justin, and Chris grins as Justin forces back his usual I’m not a kid comment before replying “Sure.”
Lance asks for milk too, so Sally promises to bring the drinks over, then pushes Chris toward a chair. “Sit already and eat. I’ll get the drinks; you all want black coffee, I suppose.”
They nod, so Sally leaves and Chris reaches for his sandwich, the only one left on the plate. It’s hot and delicious and he forces himself to savour every mouthful, knowing Sally won’t be working the morning shift again for two days. Justin is whispering to Lance again, face pale as he fidgets with the plastic ketchup bottle that’s usually in the middle of the table. JC is drawing on a napkin, using gentle pencil strokes to capture Joey’s likeness as he chews his sandwich.
The silence is edged with tension, and Chris knows he’ll have to start this conversation, so he swallows the last of his bacon and turns until he’s facing Lance and Justin. “You going to tell us now?”
Justin’s hand squeezes the bottle and a blob of ketchup dribbles down his hand. JC offers the napkin with Joey’s face on it and Justin uses it to wipe away the sauce, crumpling it up and dropping it onto the empty plate after. He stays silent, mouth opening and closing a few times, then Lance places his hand on Justin’s arm. Lance closes his eyes, opens them, then takes a deep breath.
“It’s my story to tell really. My fault that we’re here.”
Justin protests at that, but Lance turns to him, placing a gentle hand against Justin’s lips. “Let me tell it my way, okay?”
Justin nods so Lance drops his hand. “I’m from this small town, you know the kind where everyone knows everyone else? I wasn’t part of the popular crowd, but I was happy. My home life was great, I had good friends, I was in the choir and rode my horse most days.” Lance smiles and Chris imagines Lance’s home, somewhere happy and comfortable. Justin has hold of Lance’s hand now, pressing it hard against his own, and Chris gets a sick feeling in his belly. He doesn’t want to hear what’s coming. “There was only one problem. I didn’t want any of the girls that asked me to dances I wanted their boyfriends. Not that I told anyone. I’m not stupid.”
JC makes a soft sound of support. Chris knows JC understands the same way Chris does. Lance looks up and flashes a quick smile in JC’s direction, then keeps talking. “I met Justin last summer. His mom had rented a house and we met at the local mall. I was looking for a shirt, and he walked up behind me and said my taste sucked, then pushed this other shirt in my hand.”
“I was right, though,” Justin interrupts. Lance nods while smiling.
“Yeah, you were right as usual. I asked him what a kid like him knew about fashion, and he said more than a hick like me did. We sort of glared at each other for a while, then he smiled and told me to put back the shirt and we were going for milkshakes. That was the start of the best summer of my life. We talked every day and went to movies, then one day he…” Lance stops talking, looking around the table. “You do know we’re together, right?”
Chris wants to tell Lance he’d have to be blind and deaf not to see he was with Justin, but JC’s hand tightens on Chris’ leg so he just nods when Joey says, “We know.”
Lance goes on. “One day Justin kissed me. I pushed him away, because, hello, he’s younger than me and we’d never mentioned the boy thing. But he’s persistent and we ended up together.”
“That’s wonderful,” JC says with a smile, and Chris can tell Joey agrees. But there’s more to this story, the way Lance is starting to shake shows that.
“We fooled around a lot, and I guess we got careless one day. One of my momma’s friends saw us kissing in the field where I kept my horse. She told my momma, and by the time I got home, momma and dad were waiting for me. I’ve never seen them so disappointed. They kept saying I’d lied to them, but I hadn’t. I’d just not told them everything. But they kept saying I’d lied and how disappointed they were. They told me to go to my room, and my momma hugged me and said she loved me, but she needed time.”
Lance falls silent when Sally places glasses of milk on the table, then takes a long drink while Joey pours three cups of coffee.
“I needed to talk to someone, so late that night I climbed out my window and went to Justin’s. We talked some and he hugged me until I felt a little better. It was dark by then and I knew I had to go home, so I kissed him goodbye and went back down the road, just like I’d walked down it a thousand times before.”
Chris grips his coffee cup in a brutal grip when Lance stops talking. Lance is obviously shaking now and Justin takes the milk from his hand when it splashes over the side. Chris is about to tell him it’s okay, they don’t need to know, when Lance talks again.
“They were waiting by the big oak tree. My momma’s friend’s boy and his friends – my friends. We’d been friends for years, from kindergarten for some of them, so I didn’t worry about walking past. I didn’t even get to say hello before they hit me” JC murmurs oh baby, but Lance keeps talking, voice flat and expressionless. “I can’t remember most of what happened. Just flashes. Jimmy from choir spitting in my face as he lifted a stick above his head. Amber, the girl I ate lunch with, pulling at my hair. My dad found me later, lying in the ditch. They’d torn off my clothes and left a sign saying This is what happens to fags.. My friends did that. Dad carried me home and I stayed in bed for days. Momma wanted me to go to hospital, but I said no, all I wanted was Justin.”
“They didn’t even tell me,” Justin spits out. “My mom found out at the store when they were talking about the Bass boy who’d gotten what he deserved. She told them they were homophobic assholes and dumped her shopping on the counter. She tried to phone Lance, but his mom wouldn’t let him talk. I had to climb in his window one night.”
Justin wipes an unsteady hand across his eyes, attention totally on Lance. “We talked all night, whispering in his bed. We decided the only thing we could do was run away.”
“So you just took off?” Joey questions and Justin whirls on him.
“What else could we do? Wait until they killed him next time? Or should he have stayed there and listened to what a disappointment he was and read the Bible that appeared on his bed? It was all we could do.”
“Calm down,” Lance says. He pulls Justin close to him, holding him tight as Justin shakes with anger. “He’s only asking questions; it’s okay.”
They all stay quiet, looking away as Lance mops tears from Justin’s face with his sleeve. Even Sally’s stopped singing, and the silence is suffocating. Chris puts his hand over JC’s, holding it as Justin looks up.
“I’m sorry. It just makes me mad” Justin apologises.
“I had to leave,” Lance says. “They kept phoning when Momma went out. They said they’d kill my sister and burn down my house. I wasn’t going to put my family in danger for something I did. Justin wasn’t supposed to come, but he insisted and I wasn’t strong enough to say no. I never am; if I was strong, I’d be at home facing them, not here.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” Chris says, and he fixes Lance with a look. “You’re here and you’ve kept on going. You’re strong. It’s your mom and dad are the weak ones.”
“No,” Lance protests. “You don’t understand; they were trying. Momma said she hated what I was doing, but I was still her son. She wanted what was best for me; a wife and family like all the people in our town. I love my family; look.”
Lance bends and pulls his suitcase from under the next table. He unzips it and folds back the top. Chris can see clothes inside, a damp towel and the stuff Lance used to wash. But Lance pushes them aside and Chris sees a pile of books and photographs mixed with hand-written notes.
“This is my family.” Lance pulls one of the books free and opens the first page. It’s a photo-album, and Chris looks at a picture of a younger Lance with a woman who has to be his mom. She has her hands resting on Lance’s shoulders and a man has his arm round her back. A girl is next to Lance and they all grin into the camera, looking happy and sun-warm. “They love me, you have to believe that, but I couldn’t stay.”
Lance gently touches the page, fingers ghosting over his family before he shuts the book with a snap, pushing it back in his case.
“What about your mom?” JC asks Justin, who flushes, dipping his head.
“I left her a note, said I was going to my dad’s for a while.” Justin looks ashamed for a moment, then looks up, expression defiant. “I wasn’t going to let him leave on his own. I love him.”
Chris bites back a comment about how can he know love when he’s so young. Then he looks at Justin. “How old are you anyway?”
“Sixteen,” Justin says and Chris keeps on staring until Justin caves. “Okay, I’m fifteen, all right? I’m still not leaving him.”
“Fifteen. Fuck.” Chris feels like beating his head against the table, but looks at Lance. “Tell me you’re legal at least.”
Lance looks away and Chris knows it’s bad news. “I’m eighteen, but I’m not going back.” Lance sounds defiant and Chris knows he’s in trouble and sinking fast, because no way can he send Lance back now.
“Neither am I.” Justin looks just as defiant and Chris knows he’s lost that battle too, at least for now. Justin needs to go home and maybe take Lance with him.
“You can stay,” Chris says. He can sense the relief around the table, then feels the sloppy kiss against his cheek when Justin jumps up and hugs him, all long limbs and soft skin. Justin clings for a moment, then hugs Lance. Chris sees JC and Joey looking at him with expressions of support and Sally shaking her head from behind the counter. Sometimes, he thinks, it’s not worth getting up in the morning.
Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 05:07 am (UTC)*dances* It's back! And I still adore it dearly!
*hugs*
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Date: 2004-03-26 10:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 01:26 pm (UTC)Thanks for taking the time to comment.
I hope you like the rest of it.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 01:30 pm (UTC)I must admit, the request was for Lambs but it was the TrickC pairing that I was feeling the most. I think I fell in love with them a little myself by the time I was done. And while we're admitting things I made myself teary at times, which is probably something you shouldn't admit about your own work, but it's the truth.
Thanks for taking the time to comment, it means a lot.
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Date: 2004-03-26 06:51 pm (UTC)I know that you KNOW you did a truly fantastic job with this, but it bears repeating, because you really Really did.
I love the edit, you've only changed a few things in this part, only slight additions, but they're =AWESOME=!!! Wonderful support for the world you've created here, and beautiful set up for the back-story that was missing in the alpha version.
I adore this. Earlier today, I was trying to decide what story's TrickC pairing was my favorite, but DUH, it's so this one, it really truly is.
*hugs*
Be proud Ter, you're awesome, completely.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-26 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-27 03:11 am (UTC)Oh man, you've made me come over all giggly. Thank you!
I didn't want to alter things too much, so I'm glad that the slight changes worked for you. It was my betas who asked about the back story, which is why I added that in. Sort of hinting at the prequel that I'll write.
I adore this. Earlier today, I was trying to decide what story's TrickC pairing was my favorite, but DUH, it's so this one, it really truly is.
I may go cry now, seriously. I know how much you love TrickC, so thank you. I'm speechless, I really am.
Thank you. For everything.
*hugs you tight*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-27 03:52 am (UTC)Nothing that different but at least it's done.
Glad you still like it, hon.
How are you anyway? I haven't seen you on the flist lately.
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Date: 2004-03-27 05:15 am (UTC)I'm hoping to get some story ideas typed up then. I at least need to get my Joey Challenge fic typed. Even if I am incredibly nervous of it. I'm so afraid it's going to suck. lol.
*hugs you*
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Date: 2004-03-27 06:29 am (UTC)I'm in the middle of my Joey story, and I'm sure your story won't suck at all. None of the stuff I've read of yours has ever sucked, but then again, I always think my stuff sucks so we can be as bad as each other *g*
*hugs you back*
no subject
Date: 2004-03-27 03:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-27 04:57 pm (UTC)But really, you'll be fine. You're a good writer and you shouldn't forget that. I've confidence that your story will rock.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-27 04:59 pm (UTC)lol.