“Forty minutes?” Declan seemed shocked. “Is that how far it is to the closest town?”
“The closest town with a repair shop. There’s another town about twenty minutes away, but it’s smaller.”
“Got it.”
Geir wasn’t quite sure how to say the next part. He decided to just share the facts, and then leave the situation in Declan’s lap. “Tom won’t look at the car until tomorrow morning. If he has everything, it still might be another day. If he needs a part, it could be a week.”
“Like Monday or Tuesday? Shit. I wasn’t planning for that. It’s Wednesday now, right?”
Geir shrugged. Days were meaningless, but for once he almost wanted to know. “It could still be finished tomorrow morning. Tom can probably tell you when he comes out.”
“Right, but, fuck. Where am I going to sleep? I slept in my car last night, which was kind of fun and I pretended that I was camping. Because, you know, I’ve never actually been camping, but I liked being outside even though I was glad I was in a car where it was safe. I wouldn’t want to be out in a tent in the woods, unless maybe there were other people with me. Not like I have a tent. I guess I’ll get a hotel. I knew I should have taken out that money.”
Geir watched Declan, wondering when he would wind down. He found his monologues endearing and imagined what it would be like to have that bubbling energy flowing around him for just a little bit longer.
Not that he was going to find out. Humans left. They died. Declan would be gone in a blink of an eye.
He tried to focus on Declan’s rapid flow of words, giving himself a moment to sort them out. “There’s no hotel. In the town with the garage. There’s a bed and breakfast that’s also about 40 minutes away, but that’s to the south, and the garage is west.”
“Where’s Cleveland?”
“About two hours east and a little north, but that’s without traffic. We’re a little closer to Toledo, but not by much.” Geir felt himself getting sucked into conversation, the words flowing a little faster from his stiff tongue.
“Ahhh…” Declan nodded, wisely. Geir was pretty sure he had no idea where Toledo was, and might not have even heard the word before.
Geir wasn’t sure whether he should marvel that Declan had even made it to adulthood or wrap him up and make sure he never had to worry about anything again.
The base of his spine tingled as he imagined wrapping him up close, but he squashed the thought immediately.
“So…” Declan stepped forward a little bit and made his eyes soft, like he was some seductive damsel in distress, “...maybe I could stay with you?”
Geir had been hoping for and dreading this outcome, and now that Declan had said it, he wasn’t sure how to respond.
“I mean…” Declan drew himself up and lowered his voice, putting on a veneer of masculinity like a poorly sized suit of armor, “I can do some work around here. And pay my way, of course, once I get some money. But I’m sure I’ll have the money. I just need an ATM. And I can cook. And clean up if you like? Or… I don’t know. Split wood? Is that something people do out here?”
Geir repressed a smile. That false masculinity hadn’t even lasted to the end of the monologue. Declan was just too irrepressibly cheerful and feminine, too unconsciously sensual and graceful to pull it off. As funny as it was watching him try to drop his voice, Geir hated the idea of him feeling like he needed to be someone that he was clearly so ill-equipped to be.
“You can stay,” he said slowly. He realized that he hadn’t felt this… present in years. Maybe decades. It was like Declan was waking him up. “You don’t need to do anything. Your cooking might be better than mine, though.”
“Ooh! I’d love to cook! Just point me toward the kitchen.”
Geir inclined his head to the left. The house wasn’t big. You could see the kitchen from where they were standing.
“Right. Should I go get started? Or maybe get some of my things from the car? Or, where am I going to sleep? This couch is fine if you don’t have a guest room. Or if it’s easier, I don’t mind sharing a bed.” He said the last part lightly, like it would be nothing but convenience to have that soft brown hair on the pillow beside Geir’s, to have those long limbs all laid out beside him so close that they could touch.
Geir grunted again. He was a slow-thinking creature, unused to the speed and colorful buoyancy of Declan’s thoughts. “You can sleep on the couch. After we get your things. You can go anywhere in the house or the area around it, but don’t go down by the lake.”
“Ooh! There’s a lake! What’s in the lake?”
“It’s forbidden,” Geir growled, feeling foolish as soon as he’d said it.
Declan broke out into giggles, and he felt even stupider.
“It wasn’t that funny,” he finally huffed.
“No, it’s just that… Beauty and the Beast, there’s this line where the Beast tells Belle not to go to the West Wing,” his laughter was making it hard to even understand him, but he persevered, “and she says, ‘what’s in the West Wing?’ and he says ‘it’s forbidden.’” He dropped his voice gruffly to quote the Beast, then cracked up again. “It was exactly like that, except, like, with the lake.”
“That’s um, a movie?” Geir had heard the story before, it was common in a lot of cultures, but he had only a passing memory of having heard of a movie.
Declan rolled his eyes. “It’s a movie. Hey, do you have a TV?” Geir shook his head. “Internet?” He shook his head again. His whole house would probably be disappointing and drab to Declan after his glamorous life in New York.
Instead, Declan rubbed his hands together. “It’s like camping. This is going to be so much fun!”
Chapter 3
Declan
Declan leaned back in his seat, patting his full belly and letting his hand linger a moment longer. When Geir had seen the purple sequined hoodie he was going to wear, he’d grunted and tossed him one of his own large t-shirts.
It wasn’t anything special to look at, just a plain navy-blue shirt, soft and faded with age. But it was Geir’s shirt, and it felt like warmth and protection.
Declan had worn it while the repair guy came to pick up his car and, as Geir had predicted, given him a funny look. He hadn’t taken off his makeup though, and Geir had just grunted and stepped a little closer. Well, the repair guy could fuck a goat, because Declan had Geir to protect him.
Then, he’d worn the shirt while he made lunch, even though he didn’t strictly need to.
Geir hardly had a scrap of food in the house, but Declan enjoyed the challenge. He’d found a can of mushrooms and some eggs to make omelets. There was a large canister of flour, nearly as tall as his hip, that he’d dug into to make biscuits.
The really good part had been the heaping handful of fresh figs Geir had brought him, looking slightly bashful. He’d picked them fresh from a tree somewhere out in the woods, and it made Declan feel warm inside.
While Geir was gone, Declan had found a skein of white twine and fancifully wrapped it around his waist, making a bit of a belt and keeping the shirt from billowing out into the food.