Page 140 of Beneath the Stain
“Yeah, whatever. We’re playing there tomorrow night.”
Mackey squinted at him. They were both tired and cranky, but he’d sounded a little short. Well, maybe he wasn’t all okay with Mackey seeing his old boyfriend and getting the warm feels. Who could blame him?
Abruptly he wanted to go to bed. Not even so much to sleep but more to get away from what was happening in his chest as he put his hand on Grant’s shoulder and leaned in for a hug.
“Night, Mackey,” Grant said softly. “Get some sleep.”
“See you tomorrow, right?” Mackey said, a bit of apprehension washing over him. He could feel Grant’s shoulder blades through his sweatshirt, and the body in his arms felt light as dust.
“Yeah. I’ll be at the Nugget if I have to get a cab.”
Mackey pulled away, and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask Grant what that meant when his mom, God love her, intervened. “Someone will pick you up, Grant. Will Sam be coming?”
Grant looked at her gratefully. “That would be awesome, Ms. Sanders. And no. Sam, uhm….” The pause left leaden silence, and his chapped lips twisted in his bone-white face. “She’s not particularly excited about the return of Outbreak Monkey. If you’re, uhm, lucky, you might not have to see a whole lot of her until right before you leave.”
Mackey could see the translation in his head, but not a soul was going to say it out loud.My wife knows my old lover is here, and you won’t see her until the funeral.
Well, didn’t that make things easy?
“I’ll see you there,” Mackey said quietly, and he pretended not to feel Grant’s blatant kiss on the cheek in front of his family.
He stood and took three steps forward, then turned to his mom. “Where am I again?”
“Up the stairs, sweetheart, third door on the left. It’s the one with the queen-size on the bottom and the bunk bed spanning the top.”
Mackey had to think, which made his eyeballs hurt. “Isn’t that the same setup we have at home?” he asked, turning to Trav in sort of a dream.
“Yeah, Mackey. I bet she’s got Chicken in a Biskit crackers too.” Trav sounded resigned. Hell.
“And soda,” his mom verified. “Go to sleep, McKay. You can get boggled later.”
Trav steered him up the stairs, and every stair felt like his body weighed three hundred pounds. They got to the room and Mackey was just going to fall on the bed, but Trav sighed and sat down, dragging Mackey to the V of his legs and hauling his sweatshirt over his head.
“How come you got all this energy?” Mackey asked irritably, pushing his hair out of his eyes as his sweatshirt hit the closed suitcase in the corner.
“I wasn’t on stage less than twenty-four hours ago, screaming my guts out,” Trav said. He sounded like Trav again, so Mackey dared to run his fingers through his hair, nuzzling his temple in one of those soft gestures they rarely made in public. Trav stopped untying his tennis shoe for a minute and relaxed into Mackey’s stomach.
“Thank you,” Mackey said, wanting to say this now, before he fell asleep and forgot.
“For what?”
“For keeping all the pissed inside.”
“How do you know I’m pissed?” Trav asked, looking up into Mackey’s eyes.
Mackey cupped his face in both hands and kissed his forehead. “You got a little wrinkle right there between the eyes,” he lied.
Trav arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Do not,” he said pleasantly.
Mackey sighed. “It’s your voice,” he said after a quiet moment. “I can hear it. When you talk to Grant, when you talk to me. I can’t make your voice not do that. I… I don’t know how to make myself feel a way to make your voice not do that.” He closed his eyes tight, and to his horror, tears of tiredness slid out. “Oh God. Not this shit,” he muttered. “This ain’t rehab, and nothing bad’s happened yet, and I’m not gonna be a big oozy hole anymore.”
“Yeah you are,” Trav muttered. “And so am I. C’mon, McKay, give me your foot so I can untie the other one.”
“You know what I’m gonna miss? I’ll tell you what I’m gonna miss!”
“Not hearing your real name?” Trav guessed, dragging down Mackey’s jeans. Mackey stepped out of them and took his socks off by stepping on the toe of one and lifting his foot off. Trav didn’t even give him shit about that stretching them out, which must have meant he was tired too.
“Damned straight.” Mackey bent down and picked up his jeans and his socks and put them in the corner with his sweatshirt. They’d have to do laundry when they woke up, because Mackey wasn’t sure he had more than one outfit and pair of clean underwear left.
