A Love Like Fireflies

"Mr. Goodman! So glad you could join us today!" sang out Mr. Patronus, who ticked off Nick's name with a flourish that seemed exaggerated, even for him. "Now, you need to put your shirt on like our Mr. Dorcey here. Quickly now!"

Nick grinned slyly at Pete, and grasped the bottom hem of his t-shirt with both hands. With a fluid motion, he whipped the shirt off over his head, and wadded it up. He stood, naked from the waist up, in a shaft of afternoon light that streamed in through the tall terminal windows.

Mr. Patronus's sharp intake of breath surprised Pete, He turned to look at the trip advisor, who in turn only had eyes for Nick. More specifically, he only had eyes for Nick's insanely developed chest and ab muscles, which were lightly furred and rippling with power. Nick caught Pete's eye, and the sly half-grin widened. He searched for the shirt in his bag, taking his own sweet time, alert to every passing gaze that swept over his body, and there were many in addition to Mr. Patronus's unblinking goggle. Finally he pulled on his own "YES!" shirt, which he had modified slightly by ripping out the neck, cutting off the sleeves, and slicing open the armholes almost to his waist. If Mr. Patronus thought his plane ride would be relaxing, he clearly hadn't anticipated being able to see Nick's powerful torso in profile throughout the flight.

"Err, thank you, Mr. Goodman," Mr. Patronus struggled to say.

"Oh, Mr. Patronus, one thing. Could you make sure that Pete and I are rooming together? We're old friends, and it would be fun to catch up."

"Well, I don't think I ... it's just that the lists were made up months ago and ... I ..."

Here Mr. Patronus trailed off, as he watched Nick rub his hand across his 6-pack abs. His fingers traced playful circles across his flat, strong belly, and in so doing lifted his shirt so that Mr. Patronus could see the rippled expanse of tan skin that lay underneath.

"Please, Mr. Patronus? I'd be grateful if you would consider it."

Mr. Patronus looked unlikely to survive much more of Nick's casual stroking. It was when his middle finger slid briefly under the waistband of his sweatpants that the trip advisor snapped.

"Oh, I see," said Mr. Patronus. "Well, I guess we can make an exception, since it's a special case." He flipped the sheets on his clipboard, and with 10 seconds of scratching with a pen all was settled. The advisor then backed away, not wanting to lose sight of Nick but afraid to be caught looking at him. That he tripped over a carelessly placed carry-on was understandable.

"Why did you do that?" Pete demanded once Mr. Patronus had picked himself up and scurried off to greet two more latecomers.

"What, ask to room together?" Nick replied, innocently.

"Yes, that's what. Why did you do it?"

"Because, Straight Pete, you're the only person I know on this trip that my parents insisted I take."

"But we don't know each other," Pete spat out angrily. Nick's presence here had undone the tight knot of denial he had used to tie up and stow away the experience at the photo shoot, and he wanted to keep it out of his mind. That would be harder with Nick sleeping in the same room.

"What? We've been introduced, we've worked together, and, if I remember correctly, we kind of made out. That counts, in my book. What more would we have to do for it to count in yours?"

"Can you keep your voice down, please?" Pete hissed. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to hear Nick casually referring to the two of them making out, because, well, they hadn't, had they? No, of course not.

"Sorry. I guess I'm just super stoked about jetting off to Whateverstan so that we can help them herd goats or something. 'Cause that's going to be awesome."

"Look, I'm excited about this trip, and if you're not then maybe you shouldn't go," Pete said, hopeful that Nick might actually take him up on it.

"I think you can put me down for 'not excited.' But I've turned down a couple of great gigs to take this stupid trip that my parents think will help me 'grow,' so there's no sense staying and being bored and broke. I'm in for the duration."

"Tickets! Tickets everyone!" sang out Mr. Patronus as he made his way down the line of YES! travelers passing out plane tickets. Because they were standing near each other, Pete and Nick would be sitting next to each other for the next 16 hours as they slowly made their way to the host country. Not surprisingly, when they boarded the plane they found Mr. Patronus sitting directly across the aisle from Nick. The better to keep an eye on the boy, of course.

They settled into their seats, and Pete busied himself adjusting his backpack under the seat, arranging his reading material, checking for the locations of the three closest exits, anything he could do to keep from having to have anything to do with Nick. Nick, meanwhile, sat back and watched this manic burst of activity with an amused grin. Finally, when Pete had exhausted every available distraction, he sat back in his seat with a sigh and looked out the window at the airport, where a gentle rain was starting to fall in the fading light.

"So, Straight Pete, how ya been?"

Pete closed his eyes, shook his head almost imperceptibly. This was going to be exactly as bad as he thought it would be. He turned to face Nick.

"Look, cut it out with that name, okay?" he said under his breath. Pete glanced around the cabin, trying to ascertain whether anyone had heard what Nick had called him.

"Why?" Nick asked brightly. This was fun. His face suddenly turned serious, a mask of concern. "Does Straight Pete have something to tell me?"

Pete felt an immediate heat in his cheeks. What the fuck? Suddenly he thought he could feel a wetness on his lips, and to his horror realized he was having a flashback--but was he remembering Nick or his own spunk on his mouth? Neither one was anything he wanted to think about. He felt sick to his stomach.

"Hey, lighten up, man, I'm just givin' you shit," laughed Nick. He was clearly having fun with this.

"Just don't call me that, okay?"croaked Pete. If this was what the next three months were going to be like, he wasn't sure he could take it.

"All right, all right--chill out, Petey," came the smiling reply.

Pete made the most dismissive face he could muster and turned back to the window.

"So, what you been up to since the X&Y job? I haven't seen you around, so I wasn't sure if you were still working."

Pete's hopes of ignoring Nick into silence were dashed. It was clear he would have to go on the offensive.

"Look, I don't get you," he said to Nick, trying to keep his voice both low and laced with scorn. "Like what you did to Mr. Patronus back there. That poor guy just about expired while you did your stripper dance. What's the point? Do you really want sweaty, closeted, middle-aged geography teachers drooling over you? Is that what gets you going? 'Cause it sounds sick to me."

"Dude! Why so pissed off? I was just having fun. You don't think Mr. P was having fun? I guess you didn't notice him limping off to the bathroom before we got on the plane. He came back five minutes later looking much more ... comfortable. Wanna guess what he was doing in there?" Nick flashed his bright white, perfectly straight teeth in a smile of pure self-satisfaction. "I just like to help people. I think I helped an old guy out today." He leaned back in his seat, with his hands behind his head.

Pete meant to fix his seatmate with an icy stare of judgment, but what he saw when Nick reclined was Mr. Patronus staring gape-mouthed at the broad expanse of tan, muscular flesh that was now exposed from Nick's upstretched arms down to his narrow waist. The trip advisor would be joining the Mile-High Club, Solo Flight Division, as soon as the seat belt light went out.

Pete looked back at Nick, his icy stare of judgment tinged for only a split-second with wonder and perhaps even envy at what this guy could accomplish with the smallest gesture. It was only a momentary flash that Pete instantly buried, but Nick saw it. He saw it, and knew how the summer was going to go. He closed his eyes and settled in for the long flight.

They flew in silence and relative peace through the night. In the morning they landed, changed to a smaller plane for the flight further east, and then again about mid-day to an even smaller one, this one pulled reluctantly through the smoggy air by two asthmatic propellers. Flying had never been Pete's favorite activity, and he was relieved when this last craft finally put down in the middle of a remote valley, at the edge of a small city far from the industrial urban center. This would be home for the next three months.

In the bustle of disembarking, Pete lost sight of Nick for a moment, and the hope rose inside him that he might escape his three-month prison sentence of rooming with that dolt. But Mr. Patronus, who had hardly gazed upon anyone or anything else for the last 16 hours, immediately located Nick making small talk with a ticket counter agent. Complete ignorance of her language didn't hold him back, and the two looked ready to sneak off to a quiet broom closet for a personal study in foreign relations when Mr. Patronus descended upon them.

"Mr. Goodman! Please--the group is assembling over here. Thank you, uh--Svetlana, is it? Yes, thank you for your attention to Mr. Goodman, but I need him over here. I mean, our group is over here. Thank you!"

Mr. Patronus hustled Nick back to the group, and planted him directly next to Pete, who was less than thrilled to see the bane of his existence returned to him.

"Now, everyone, your hosts will be here shortly to take you to your accommodations. You have my phone number in your packet, so don't hesitate to call me if you have any problems. I wish you the very best with your YES! experience, and I will see you in a month at our check-in meeting. Now go be good Americans, everyone!"

Nick turned to Pete. "Well, Petey, we're here. Excited yet?"

"I'm tired, I'm hungry, and you smell," cranked Pete. This was two-thirds true; Nick didn't smell, and in fact had weathered the long journey suffering nothing worse than a becoming tousle.

"Now, you don't sound like a good American, Petey. Don't make me get Mr. Patronus on your ass."

"I thought you were the one who wanted that troll on your ass," Pete spat. "Or wasn't that the point of making him drool over your stupid body?"

"Now, now, Petey. I was just having fun. I'll try to behave appropriately from now on." They both knew he didn't mean it.

"Peter Dorcey? Nicholas Goodman?" The voice calling their names was accented, but still quite understandable. They turned to see two young men looking expectantly at them.

"Yes, here," said Pete, advancing toward them. Nick followed.

"Pleased to meet you," said the one of the pair who had called out their names. "I am Imre, and this is Karvaly. We will be your hosts this summer." The two locals extended their hands, and Pete and Nick shook them in the firm manner that they hoped established them as Good Americans.

"Have you all of your baggage?" asked Imre, who spoke perfect, if somewhat BBC-inflected, English. Pete and Nick nodded. "Splendid. Shall we?" Imre gestured to the doors of the terminal.

"But, excuse me, Imre? Isn't there supposed to be a, you know, um, adult person here?" Pete asked. "I mean, you seem very nice, but you're our age."

Imre smiled. "Yes, of course. My grandmother has hosted American students for years. But she had a fall last week, and cannot drive the car. So, Karvaly and I came."

This seemed to put Pete's mind at ease. He looked about for Mr. Patronus to catch his eye (this was easy because his eye was always on Nick) just to be sure that he saw them leave with Imre and Karvaly. Can't be too careful in a foreign country. Mr. Patronus smiled and waved. Mostly, it seemed, at Nick's departing ass.

CHAPTER FOUR

The guys piled into the Imre's grandmother's car, which was a tiny, vaguely Ford-ish sedan of Eastern European origin, built with all of the craftsmanship that forced labor can muster. Pete attempted to close the door behind him, but found that it wouldn't latch. However, Imre immediately placed all his weight on the accelerator, and the car roared, coughed, and then roared again down the street away from the airport. Pete decided he would just have to hang on and hope the door didn't swing open. With his other hand he groped around for the seat belt, but instead found Nick's hand. He recoiled, but not before Nick placed grabbed hold of it, and then held it as if they were heading to the prom in the back seat of their chaperone's car. He smiled sweetly at Pete, who yanked his hand back.

With a whoosh Pete suddenly found himself hanging out over the street as the door he was holding swung open. He saw cobblestones rushing by below him, and he did the only thing he could think of: he screamed. Screamed like a little girl. Quickly Nick grabbed him by the arm and reeled him back into the car. Terrified, Pete panted and shook while Nick held on with both arms wrapped tightly around him.

"It's okay, I've got you," Nick said, with no trace of irony in his voice.

"Thanks, man. Holy shit that scared the fuck out of me."

"Everyone all right back there?" Imre called brightly, as if people attempted to eject themselves from cars all the time around here.

Nick answered for them. "We're fine. Beautiful city you've got here."

"Thank you. With recent investments, primarily from the Belgians, it is less of a ... of a ... Karvaly, what was that word the last exchange students used?"

"Shit hole," came Karvaly's cheerful reply.

"Right. It is less of a shit hole now. I am glad you like it."

Nick tried to suppress his laughter, with imperfect results.

"I'm okay now, you can let go," whispered Pete.

Nick didn't.

"Are you sure? Mr. Patronus would give anything to be in your place right now."

"If Mr. Patronus had been in my place he'd be spread across the cobblestones in that square back there because there's no way you could have lifted his fat ass back into the car. Plop, splat, no more fawning Mr. P. Now please let me go."

Nick did, this time.

"Save someone's life and that's the thanks I get. Nice." There was no bitterness in Nick's voice--he was still just playing, and that infuriated Pete even more.

"Look, you got your wish and we're going to be spending the summer in this shit hole, together. Fine. I don't have to pretend to enjoy your company."

Nick just stared, waiting for the next explosion from Pete.

"Stop looking at me that way. I could have gotten back in the car myself, and I wouldn't have even needed to if you hadn't been groping me in the first place. What was that all about, anyway?"

"You grabbed my hand, so I thought you wanted to get romantic. I was just trying to play along, Petey. No hard feelings." Nick was enjoying this immensely.

Pete realized that he was being played, just as Nick had played with Mr. Patronus. But Mr. Patronus let himself in for it because Nick clearly gave him wood. So why was Nick doing this to him? Was it just to push his buttons?

"Whatever," Pete spat conclusively, and turned to the view outside his window. They passed the rest of the drive in silence.

Imre's grandmother lived in a small house clinging to the hillside above the town like a forgotten barnacle. As the car shuddered to a halt on the side of the road near the house, Pete could finally relax his grip on the door and step out.

It was late afternoon, exactly what time Pete had no idea as he had forgotten to adjust his watch for whatever time zone they now found themselves in. They were ushered into the house, which seemed to have been built around the time of the Vlad the Impaler. But it was clean and comfortably furnished, and Imre's grandmother greeted them warmly and offered them food, as she would do twelve times daily for the next 3 months. They ate a light dinner, and then Imre stood.

"I am sure you would like to see your room, and get settled in after your long flight. Come with me, please." He and Karvaly each hefted a suitcase, and led the guys up a dim, winding staircase. The top floor of the house was divided by a narrow hallway, with doors leading to a room on either side. At the end of the hallway a door opened onto a balcony that overlooked the city.

Imre opened the door on the right side of the hallway, revealing a room with a bed, a dresser, and a desk. Large windows opened onto the balcony and the sweeping view beyond. As twilight claimed the valley, the lights of the city were beginning to twinkle far below them. It was beautiful. Pete hoped this would be his room, and Nick would be on the other side of the hall. He also hoped the door locked.

"This is where you will stay, and Karvaly and I are in the room across the hall," Imre said.

"We're sharing this room?" asked Pete, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but clearly alarmed.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Well, there's just the one bed," began Pete.

"Which is just fine. It's a great room, and million-dollar view. Thanks!" Nick spoke like a Good American.

"We will leave you to settle in. The bathroom is at the bottom of the stairs, to the left."

"Yeah, thanks." Pete managed to get out, his throat still clotted with the shock of this latest turn of events.

Imre and Karvaly left, closing the door behind them. Once their steps had died away down the stairs, Pete swiveled on Nick.

"Just fine? This is just fine? What the hell are you talking about this is just fine?" Pete's voice rose steadily as he blustered at Nick, furious.

"Petey, buddy, chill. What are you going to do about it? It's the room they have. Plus, I'm serious about the view--look at it!"

"But the bed! The bed! That thing is barely a double. We're going to be sleeping on top of each other!"

"Heh, heh," chuckled Nick, in his best lecherous growl.

"Oh fuck off!" Pete flung back at him.

"Look, Petey, you would be here no matter what. Are you pissed because it's me you're here with? If any of the other guys on the trip were here you'd still be sharing the bed, just with him instead of me. Does it really make all that much difference?"

"Nick, did you ever stop to think that maybe I was planning on rooming with a friend of mine, until you had Mr. Patronus cross off his name and write yours in instead? Did you even think of that before you did your cocktease shirtless bit and stuck me here with you? Did you?"

Nick, for the first time, looked contrite.

"Did you really have a friend lined up?"

Pete looked at Nick, angry but a put a little off balance by the genuine note of concern in Nick's voice.

"Well, no, but I could have. You had no way of knowing."

"I think you'll find, Petey, that I have ways of knowing a lot of things." Nick turned to unpack, leaving Pete to fume in silence.

About twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door.

"It is Imre. May I enter?"

"Yes, of course, come on in, Imre," called Pete, who was putting away the last of his things.

"As it is your first night here, Karvaly and I wondered whether you would like to go out with us to the city, or if you would like to rest."

"Hell, yeah, let's see the town!" came Nick's immediate reply.

Imre and Nick turned to Pete, expectantly. He sighed.

"Well, I am kind of tired, but it would be nice to see some of the city. All right, let's go."

The four young men climbed back into the rattling car and started down the hill. This time, Pete made sure that Nick got the bum door. He slammed it shut, and it latched with a smart clicking noise. Bastard, thought Pete.

They entered the city just as the sky was darkening from the lapis blue they had seen from the balcony. The city was medieval in origin, and had been renovated, it seemed, at about the time that America was declaring its independence. There were columned buildings in stately disrepair on every block; it was a city of remembered grandeur. The car pulled up in front of one such pile, and Imre switched the engine off.