Page 26 of Fortress
After they said goodbye and hung up, Roger took a minute to stare at the receiver. He’d barely known Tobias for six months—they’d spent maybe a week together total.He’d known Jake almost his whole moron life. So where did he get the knuckleheaded sense that he’d fight and lie and cook and care just as much about Tobias as the fool he sometimes thought he’d half-raised?
That should have worried him more, made him quadruple-check the tests he’d run the first time Tobias crossed his threshold, wondering what he could have missed.But for once, he was willing to let it go, leave the work safely triple-checked.
Maybe the kid had a supernatural something that could work through even the most paranoid hunter’s shell, but Roger was willing to bet, just like Jake had so long ago, that it was just Tobias.
Chapter Five
For Tobias, the days between Christmas and the New Year blinked past, moving from lazy mornings in the apartment (curling so close to Jake that Tobias could count every individual rise and fall of his chest) to exploring the city. It was strange after so long on the road to stay in one place, to have days to explore a town undisturbed by ghosts or lurking monsters. Tobias wanted, in a way he hadn’t been able to want things for most of his life, to see what there was around him.
After visiting the Boulder tourist office, they went to the local university’s natural history museum and wandered through the exhibits. Tobias had a hard time looking away from the Navajo rugs, bold patterns grabbing the eye even after centuries of wear and time. He had to correct Jake that they were looking at a triceratops skull, not some medieval dragon. Jake wasn’t that interested in the informational plaques next to each exhibit, but judging by the smile he couldn’t quite hide, he didn’t mind Tobias reading out the highlights.
Though Jake was maybe too appreciative of the weaponry and axe-heads in another display. Tobias might not know as much as he wanted about real customs, but he was pretty sure that Jake shouldn’t have referred to them as “fucking awesome decapitators” quite so loudly.
They returned to the Boulder public library another day, which Tobias found both familiar and not. Like with the bagel shop and their first night back in the apartment, walking into the library gave Tobias an odd feeling of dissonance. While he couldn’t identify significant changes other than new bookdisplays, nothing looked—no, nothingfeltthe same. He was seeing these places now without the paralyzing terror that had distorted everything before.
New Year’s Eve, they ended up back in the park, surrounded by fellow Boulderites (couples, friends, families) gazing up together as fireworks burst across the crisp winter sky. The loud pop and crackle of fireworks first made Tobias jump, but as nothing happened but a spray of pretty lights across the sky, and with the safety of Jake’s arm around his back, he relaxed.
The crowd counted down together the last seconds of the year, and when they shouted, “Happy New Year!” Tobias almost spilled his hot cocoa as Jake turned him, kissing him sweet as a whole cluster of fireworks burst at once.
A brand-new year, and the first of his life outside Freak Camp—the life Jake had given him.
Jake hated the idea of Tobias owing him anything. More specifically, that Tobias would do something only because he thought he owed it to Jake.
But Tobias wasn’t afraid anymore. He just needed to find a way to persuade Jake that he was ready. They were ready.
The morning of January 5th, Tobias woke again before dawn, but instead of closing his eyes until he fell back asleep, he slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen. He tried to be absolutely quiet, but no matter how silently he could move, he couldn’t stop the microwave from humming or manage to catch it before the timer ran down and started beeping. He winced at that, keeping one ear tuned to bedroom. When he heard the first creak of the mattress, he rushed back down the hallway.
“You have to stay in bed!” he announced to Jake, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and looking befuddled, his hairstanding up in all directions. Tobias made a pushing gesture with his hands, imploring. “Just a few more minutes. I’ll be back.”
“Uh.” Jake looked like he was fighting a grin, but he composed himself as he scratched the back of his head. “I was gonna go take a piss? Then I’ll get straight back to bed, I swear.”
“Yeah. Yes. That’s fine. I’ve got... you’ll see. Just... stay.” Tobias backed out of the room.
Five minutes later, he had everything balanced precariously on the pizza pan, mugs rattling against the plate and bowl with every tremble of his hands. He set the whole thing down on the counter, then inhaled and exhaled slowly before rubbing his palms dry on his pajama pants and picking it up again.
He didn’t drop it on the way to the bedroom. He didn’t think he would, even with the hand trembles that he couldn’t seem to control. But he was more nervous than he had expected, more aware of the old pressure to performperfectly, more afraid of failure (and its consequences) than he had felt in a while.
Ironically, it was the familiar weight of that fear, the training that had drummed into him the importance of performance over any demand of body or soul, that kept his pace even to the bedroom, kept the laden dishes neatly balanced. He didn’t dare to look at Jake’s face as he entered. He was sure—hebelievedthat this was a good gift. Not nearly what Jake deserved for his twenty-first birthday, of course, not nearly equal to anything that he’d given Tobias, but there was never a chance of that. It was something, though, and something that Tobias could do. Something that a real might do for someone precious.
“Whoa, whoa,” Jake said. “Did you make a grub run while I wasn’t looking?” He was sitting against the wall behind the bed, comforter dragged up to his waist but not quite covering the ribbon of skin around his navel. Tobias could see that much, even without looking up, still watching his feet, watching thecarpet. When he got close enough, Jake reached out to take the pizza pan, carefully closing his fingers around the edge next to where Tobias’s held it in a white-knuckled grip. When he settled the tray on his lap, Tobias breathed in relief and raised his eyes.
Jake blinked down at the instant oatmeal, bacon, eggs, and mugs of coffee on the tray, like he’d forgotten what exactly someone was supposed to do with food appearing in one’s lap. His face was flushed, warm even with only a thin T-shirt covering his chest, so maybe Tobias had made the meal too hot, left the oatmeal in the microwave too long even though he’d followed the packaged directions perfectly.
“I may not have done it right,” Tobias said in a rush. “I mean, it may not be any good. I microwaved the bacon like you showed me and tested a piece just to make sure it wasn’t, you know”—freak food, he didn’t say, but rushed on—”and it’s not as greasy as you like it, but—”
“Toby,” Jake said, and it was quiet, but Tobias shut his mouth immediately. When Jake met his eyes, heat warmed Tobias’s cheeks. “You just made this,” Jake said, “the most awesome birthday ever.”
Tobias had to look down, even as he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “I read about it. It seemed like—something I could do for you. And I wanted—” Tobias stopped to take a breath and raise his eyes. “I wanted to bring you food, like—like you used to bring me.”
Something moved in Jake’s face, and he reached recklessly for Tobias over the tray. Tobias met him halfway for the kiss, one hand on Jake’s hand, the other stabilizing the coffee cups.
When they came up for breath, Jake studied the array of food. “You better have a plate in there for yourself. It’s my birthday. You don’t want me eating alone on my birthday.”
Tobias grinned again and pulled a spare plate from under the heaping plate of scrambled eggs. “I tasted a couple thingsalready, but figured w-we could share.” He pulled a fork and spoon from the pocket of his pajamas. Jake kissed him again—quick, sloppy, wonderful—and reached for the fork on the tray.
What the hell Jake Hawthorne ever did to deserve someone like Toby in his life, he had no fucking clue. Breakfast inbed, hot damn. He was going to need the next three months just to figure out what to do for Toby’s birthday. He’d have to find the right balance between awesome and sappy and definitely drop some hints ahead of time to make sure that whatever he did was perfect. Nothing would suck more than trying to make Toby smile and ending up giving him a panic attack with oranges or some shit like that.
He was mulling over possibilities (maybe he’d take Toby to one of those old-fashioned concerts where everyone sits down quietly the whole time, or maybe a science museum or an aquarium; he always geeked out over the Discovery channel) when Toby casually asked, “So, do you know where you’re going out tonight?”
