tagGay MaleRain Falls Ch. 07

Rain Falls Ch. 07


When he woke me up it was still dark.

"Get dressed, Baby." He nudged me. "We're going to Austin."

"Now?" I grumbled. "What time is it?"

"Five-ish," he replied. "It will be easier to get out of town before rush hour."

"Did you sleep?"

"Yes." He rolled off the bed. "A little. I'll be fine."

"Seriously, Eric." I squinted at him accusingly. "Are you on crank?"

"A little," he admitted.

"Well, shit," I groused and climbed out of bed, defeated. There was no way that I'd convince him to sleep if he was doing speed. "The least you could do is share."

"Do you want some go, Baby?"

I looked down at my body as I padded toward the bathroom, wondering if my oft abused system could handle the stress. "Yes," I yawned.

"Ok." He followed me into the bathroom. "After you eat something."

"Did you eat?" I asked, emptying my bladder.

"A little," he smirked and left me to my morning routine.

I speculated on how he managed to keep his body looking like that with the rate that he was going. He hardly ate, slept less, and did uppers. It was always such a fight for me to try to prevent my body from becoming grossly emaciated. The way he was living had to take its toll on his body too.

He served me an omelet, which I ate out of reflex, not even paying attention to what it was stuffed with. I was half asleep and trying to focus on what he was doing. Crank was so unstable that street people didn't mess with it so I didn't have much experience with it. He removed an aluminum foil wrapped package from the freezer and opened it. It was full of blue drying crystals. Buried in the rocks were tiny ziplock bags full of an off-white, chunky, powder. He took a mirrored placemat, the kind with the little rubber feet, off the top of the fridge and chopped up two lines for me. As soon as he was ready, I set my plate down. I hadn't finished the omelet but I knew that I had very little time. The drug would start to melt very quickly. I snorted both lines and then stuck my fingertips under the faucet. Bringing my wet fingertips to my nose, I inhaled the water droplets, trying to quench the searing fire in my sinuses.

"Feel the burn," I quipped and rolled my eyes. The taste coated the back of my throat and mouth almost instantly. The taste of crank wasn't as bad as ecstasy but it was harder to get rid of. The taste of coke wasn't as bad as crank but coke numbed your throat and it was impossible to get rid of. I had convinced myself that whoever invented Jolly Ranchers was a cokehead.

The other thing about crystal, the other reason it wasn't as popular as coke among the street rats, it didn't make you fuzzy. It made everything clear and sharp. In my opinion, it didn't make me feel like I was on drugs. It just made me feel AWAKE. Cocaine made me feel invincible and euphoric. Ecstasy was really my poison of choice. It gave me tracers and the same general happiness of cocaine but with the added bonus of amplifying all of my senses. Every sound, sight, and touch was intense and surreal. Pot brought me down gently and provided me with the serenity that I often couldn't find on my own. I stayed away from heroin. I'd seen too many people die on the nod. I had almost no experience with pills. They weren't that common on the street, or possibly, they weren't shared as much. They only time I took drugs was if someone gave them to me. I had never paid for them myself and I wasn't about to start.

After cleaning the kitchen, we headed out. Eric picked up an overnight bag on our way out the door. "What's that?" I asked.

"I figured we'd stay the night. Austin can be fun."

"What about your project?"

"I'm in a holding pattern," he explained. "I want to give the wood more time."

"How long does that take?"

"A few weeks to dry it completely but it was already dried indoors. I'm very careful about where I get my supplies. I want to be sure of what I'm working with. I destroy enough of my work on my own. It really pisses me off when I lose something to shoddy material. Sometimes it can't be helped. There will be flaws in the wood or stone that aren't apparent until you get into it. If you get lucky, those flaws can add to the beauty of the piece, if not, they can destroy the whole thing. If I bring home something that gets ruined because I didn't examine it carefully enough I feel like I deserve what I got. If my work is ruined because the material wasn't handled properly in the first place, it makes me homicidal."

"Can't you eliminate the possibility by doing all the prep work yourself?"

"Yes. In theory," he replied. "It's not very economical. If I only worked in one medium it would make more sense. I could haunt the quarry or the mill yard. I would need a lot more space for storage and it would cause more forced delays on my projects, but it could be done."

I remained quiet until we passed through downtown and got underway on I-35. "Do you ever read?"

Eric visibly flinched. "What number are we at?"

"I have ten left." I smirked at his grimace. "I find it completely fascinating that you can talk about your work all day long but the second I ask anything personal, you panic."

"Not panic," he argued. "I just don't like talking about myself."

"Why not?" I asked.

"If I answer that it counts," he warned.

"Ok. But answer the reading question first."

"I don't read very often and, when I do, it's non-fiction."

"How boring," I opined. "I read to escape life. The last thing I have any interest in doing is reading about reality."

He smirked. "I don't like to talk about myself because it makes me feel like people are just looking for a reason to disagree with you. They're searching for flaws or chinks in the armor."

"I'm not," I told him. "I'm just trying to learn things about you."

"What good does it do you to know if I like to read?"

"If I wanted to buy you a birthday present I now know not to buy you a mystery novel," I pointed out.

"When is my birthday, Rain?" he asked softly.

I knew that he was trying to prove his point but I wasn't going to let him think that about me. "I haven't gotten to that question yet," I told him. "I'm saving that one for later."


"Because it's very generic and it's possible that I can learn that without wasting a precious free question on it," I explained. "It's like asking your favorite color or food. I could learn those by careful observation. I've only got eight more questions and I want to use them to learn as much about you as possible."

"You asked me my favorite food," he pointed out.

"That's because I hardly see you eat. Besides, you didn't really answer."

"Sure I did." He smiled at my raised eyebrow. "Ok. Coffee ice cream," he smirked. "Quid-pro-quo."

"You can ask me anything you like. I will always answer you to the best of my ability," I promised.

"What's your favorite movie?" he asked.

"Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."

He laughed, "They die!"

"I know," I sighed. "Life sucks and then you die. They went out with flair though."

"I was always sure that they had a three-way going on with that chick," he remarked which made me laugh.

"It was a common theme," I replied. "Did you ever see Paint Your Wagon?"


"It's a musical starring Clint Eastwood. It's about the debauchery of gold miners," I told him. "The two main characters buy and share a wife."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he laughed. "My mother loves that movie."

"We didn't invent sex, Eric," I teased. "Your parents had sex at least once."

"Ack!" he exclaimed. "Stop or I'll make you run alongside the car."

"Eric Unger is a prude?" I taunted.

"No," he chuckled. "I just don't need that worm planted in my head. The last thing I want is for that thought to pop up the next time I get you into bed."

"Ok," I snickered. "I'll stop. I guess I lucked out. I never have that particular worry."

"What's your favorite book?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Too many to name," I replied.

"Pick something," he suggested. "I'll keep in mind that it's one of many."

"Interview with a Vampire," I said. "By Anne Rice."

"A vampire story?" he grinned. "And you complain about the biting."

I grinned. "It's about vampires but it's more about the homoerotic relationship between the two main characters."

"Homoerotic?" he chuckled.

"Yeah. The main guy, Louis, is straight but the guy who turns him, Lestat, is so obviously in love with him. Only, Louis is this tortured soul that never figures out that Lestat is desperately in love with him. He thinks Lestat is just psycho crazy."

"Sounds like a tragedy," he commented.

"It is, in a way."

"So, no happy endings for you, huh?" he joked.

I shook my head. "Life doesn't really work that way."

He chuckled. "I thought you were reading to get away from real life."

"Yes but... MY life," I explained. "I prefer my escapism to be realistic. Suspension of disbelief and all that. I need to be able to get into a story. Get invested. And in real life there are no happy endings."

He glanced at me before returning his attention to the road. "There can be."

"If I ask about your parents does it count?" I asked.

"I guess not."

"Good." I smiled. "Do you get along with them?"

"I'm pretty sure that's about me," he smirked.

"It's borderline."

"Ok. I'll let it slide." He paused, thinking. "I love them. They're pretty cool, as parents go. I didn't have all the trouble with them that other kids had with theirs. So, yes. I get along with them."

"What do they do?"

"My dad is a lawyer. My mom is an OBGYN."

"Wow," I breathed. "You said that you were from Plano. I guessed that your parents had money but fuck. A doctor and a lawyer?"

"My mom comes from family money. She didn't have to work but she chose to anyway. Having money doesn't really makeup for being absent."

I didn't know how to respond to that. I wanted to comfort him but, considering where I came from, it seemed ridiculous.

"They're better now," he went on. "They've calmed down over the years. They aren't so dedicated to their practices. You'd probably like my mom. She's a big reader too."

"Would they like me?" I asked.

"You personally or our relationship?"

"Either... Both."

"They'd like you. You're sweet." He took a breath and let it out. "As far as us? I don't know. They're pretty conservative but not bible thumpers. I'd like to think that they will accept it, eventually."

He'd said 'will' not 'would'. As if it was a forgone conclusion that they would be presented with the issue. Did he had plans to introduce me to his family as his lover? The idea was daunting. It was too soon to be thinking along those lines. We had only been together for five days.

As hyper as I was, leg bouncing, fingers twitching, I didn't want to ask him any more questions. I decided to lean back in the comfy seat and watch the sunrise.

We got into Austin a little after nine. We went straight to the courthouse but it took hours to get to the right people and fill out all the paperwork. Which I had to do twice because the first time I had used my address.

"Use mine," Eric said.


"Because what's the chance that you'll still be living there in eight weeks?"

I wanted to tell him that it was pretty fucking high since I couldn't get any other place with no identification. But I didn't because I knew what he was getting at. He'd only told me to move in with him about fifty times in the last five days.

"Besides, it's safer. Wouldn't you rather have these documents going someplace that you don't have to worry about them getting lost or stolen?"

"What if we aren't together?" I snapped.

He looked hurt that I would suggest such a thing. "I would still make sure that you got them," he replied. "I wouldn't keep them from you. No matter what happens."

I couldn't fight the logic and I didn't want to see that hurt look in his eyes again. It devastated me that I had put it there. I was crashing and irritable but it didn't excuse what I had said. I found myself wanting to comfort him again but the capitol building was not the place for guy on guy PDA. Instead, I got up and retrieved another copy of the forms to fill them out again.

On our way out of the building we had to stop to look at the structure. Not as a whole, up close and personal. Eric was standing on the grass running his fingers over the granite blocks that made up the building. "This was done by hand," he informed me. "Can you believe that?"

He was referring to the blocks themselves. Each of the huge granite blocks had a border around the perimeter that was smooth as silk. The area inside the border was left rough. Having absolutely no point of reference, I had no idea why that was such a big deal. I just wanted to get out of there. But then, as I said, I was bitchy.

"Do you have any more of that crystal?" I asked once we got in the car.

He shook his head. "Not with us."

"Well fuck," I sighed.

"Are you jonesing?" he asked.


"I'm sorry, Baby," he said. "I didn't think about it. I just use it as a pick-me-up on occasion. I don't make a habit of it." He looked me over, trying to judge my condition. "I just want to make one stop and then we'll find a hotel and take a nap. Ok?"

We didn't go very far. We went down the block and stopped at a Half Price Books. I grinned at him. "Are you trying to find a driving instruction manual?"

He chuckled. "Something like that."

We separated in the store. He sent me off to find something to keep me entertained while he worked. I browsed around, steering away from the more erotic stuff that I liked to read. If he was going to cut me off while he was working I didn't need to get myself all hot and bothered. I picked up some sci-fi/fantasy and some suspense.

I had found five books that I wanted and was sitting on the floor in the fantasy section, with books stacked all around me, when Eric found me.

He squatted down behind me and whispered in my ear. "Are you having fun, Baby?"

I turned my head to see him with a smile on my face. "Yes."

The move brought my lips inches from his and he didn't shy away. He kissed me right there in the middle of the store. It was just a gentle brush of the lips but it was clearly a kiss to anyone who had seen us. He didn't even glance around to see who might be watching first. The sheer bravado of the man constantly floored me. "I'm ready to go anytime you are. I'm not in a hurry though. Take your time."

"No." I gathered up my choices and put the rest back in their proper homes on the shelves. "I'm done. Let's go lay down."

He arched his eyebrow suggestively. "I like the sound of that."

We got to the counter and I chanced a look at what he was buying. He had chosen a cookbook, a book on wood carving, a career aptitude book based on a test by Jung, a copy of Interview with a Vampire, and a Texas Driver's Manual. Although, to be fair, the driver's manual was free. I had to fight the urge to laugh.

"There's a part two coming out this year," the cashier told Eric when she rang up the Anne Rice book.

"I haven't read it," Eric admitted.

"It's good." The girl smiled coyly at him, blatantly checking him out. "You'll like it."

I rolled my eyes. Could I not go anywhere with him without him getting hit on? I appreciated the fact that he was gorgeous. I appreciated that fact as often as humanly possible. But I wanted to just go one place where I didn't feel like I had to fight for him.

"My boyfriend suggested that I read it," Eric told the girl. He reached over and took the books out of my arms and slid them across the counter to go on his tab. The girl and I both just blinked at him, though, I'm sure, for totally different reasons. "Is that it, Baby? Just five?"

I nodded and then realized that I was acting like a simpleton. "For now," I replied when I found my tongue. The girl seemed to snap out of her trance at the sound of my voice and she rang up the rest of our purchases without any further flirting.

"Did that bother you?" he asked when we were back in the car.

"No," I assured him. "It just surprised me. You're always surprising me."

"How?" He started the car and pulled onto the street. "In a good way or a bad way?"

"In a good way. You're just so open. It's like you don't care what other people think. Like you're not afraid of anything."

"I don't care what most people think," he replied. "Why should I? I don't even know those people and I'll probably never see them again. If they want to waste their time and energy worrying about what we may be doing, let them. Makes no difference to me."

"This is the bible belt, Eric. Those people can become violent."

He quickly glanced at me. "I'd never let anyone hurt you, Rain. Ever," he swore. "But if it bothers you for me to be affectionate in public, I'll stop. I may not care what they think but I do care what you think."

"It doesn't bother me. I like it. I love the fact that you're not ashamed to let it be known that we're together. But it does scare me," I admitted. "I just wish that we lived someplace where there was no need to be afraid. Where everyone could be who they were and love who they love." It was the first time that the big scary 'L' word had been thrown out there. Even though the context was more universal than referring to us specifically, I watched Eric's reaction carefully. He had none.

We spent the rest of the short car ride in a pensive silence. We pulled into the parking lot of a hotel, not a motel. Even though I now knew there was far more money backing Eric than I could even comprehend, I couldn't help but cringe at the wasted expenditure. I looked around at the room thinking that I could live in, what was to me, the lap of luxury, for a month for what he's heedlessly paid for one night in that room. He set the overnight bag down on a padded bench and wrapped his arms around me.

"I have wanted this for so long," he murmured against my neck before he grasped my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. He turned on the water and quickly divested us both of our clothing before pulling me under the warm spray with him. To be honest, I wasn't in the mood. I was tired and cranky and hungry. But I wasn't going to stop him. I couldn't count the number of times that I had put out for total strangers when I didn't feel like it. I wasn't about to deny someone that actually mattered to me.

I started to relax the moment he tilted my head back and began running his fingers through my hair. He watched my face while he washed my hair and massaged my scalp. Once he was satisfied with my hair, he moved down to my body. There wasn't a single centimeter of my skin that his fingers didn't explore and bathe. He reached around my body to wash my back, never turning me, so that he could continue to watch my face. He got down on his knees in front of me to wash the lower part of my body but he still looked up, into my eyes. I braced my hands on his strong shoulders and lifted my legs to allow him to wash my feet.

We didn't utter a single word the entire time. I couldn't tell what he was thinking either. His face was so hard to read some times. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe I was just in denial of what was so clearly stamped there for anyone to see. As soon as he set down my feet he used his hands to urge me to turn. He spread my cheeks with his hands and laved my hole. The touch of his tongue to my entrance sent me from zero to Oh My Fucking God in less than a heartbeat. It had never happened to me before and I couldn't make sense of it. I hadn't even gotten aroused while he was bathing me but the second he had his tongue on my ass I was ready to pop off. I widened my stance and put my palms on the wall in front of me to give him better access.

"I'm going to come, Eric," I groaned. He'd had his mouth on me for less than a minute.

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