Fire and Rain by Andrew Grey Page A

room.
    “It’s okay. You know it was just a dream. It wasn’t real.”
    “I know,” Isaac sniffled. When Kip returned, he handed Weeble to Isaac.
    “It’s all better. You have Weeble now,” Jos said and helped Isaac get back under the covers.
    “I have to go,” Isaac said. Jos got him out of bed and took him to the bathroom. Isaac yawned more than once, and when he was done, he washed his hands and then hurried back into the bedroom, jumped up on the bed, and scrambled under the covers. He held both Weeble and Pistachio, settling easily. Isaac went right back to sleep, but Jos doubted he would. He left the room and met Kip in the hallway outside. Neither said a word; they just walked down to the kitchen and Kip put a kettle on the stove.
    “He scared the life out of me,” Kip admitted as he sat down at the table.
    Jos agreed and managed to sound coherent despite his attention being drawn to Kip’s bare chest. He was strong and fit, with defined pecs and big arms. A dusting of hair in the center of his chest trailed off to a line that ran down his ridged belly. “I thought someone was really hurting him.” Jos needed to stop staring but found it damn hard.
    “I did too.”
    “I hate that he gets so scared.” Jos wiped his eyes. “I know it’s all my fault. I should be doing better for him.” He rested his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. “Maybe he would be better off with someone else to care for him. They sure as hell couldn’t do worse than I am.” He sniffled and looked at Kip.
    “Hey, Isaac loves you, and that’s what’s important.” Kip put a hand on his shoulder. “This has been a very difficult few days, and I think you’re feeling worn a little thin right now.”
    “You think?”
    “Yeah, I do. Lots of things have come to a head, and you’re trying to deal with them all at once.”
    Jos shook his head. He felt like he was made of glass and was going to shatter into a million pieces at any second. It took all his energy to hold himself together. And he had to for Isaac.
    The teakettle whistling pulled him out of his funk and back to the present. Kip got up, and damned if Jos couldn’t help following him with his eyes, especially as those gray shorts slid just a little bit lower on his narrow hips with every step. Kip put tea bags into two mugs and poured the water. Then he brought them back to the table and placed one in front of him.
    Jos barely noticed. Those shorts were obscene and hid practically nothing. He turned away, swallowed hard, and lifted his mug. Of course he swore when he burned his tongue, and Kip jumped up and got him an ice cube from the freezer, holding it to his lips. Jos sucked on it, the cold helping, and noticed that Kip didn’t take his gaze from his lips.
    “You know, you’re really beautiful,” Kip said. “Guys aren’t usually pretty, but you are.” Kip touched Jos’s cheek with his thumb, stroking lightly. Jos closed his eyes and soaked in the gentle attention. For a few seconds, he tried to remember how long it had been since there had been someone in his life who was gentle and caring. His mother had been neither; well, at least with him. When it came to Isaac, she’d been less cold and had spent more time with him, but she would never, ever have won Mother of the Year.
    “I’m not…,” Jos countered, desperately wanting Kip to argue with him. He liked being told he was pretty. Hell, he liked being the center of someone’s attention in a good way, rather than how Tyler had acted in the alley. The way Kip looked at him, with warmth and gentleness, made him want to sit still and stay like that forever. He could escape into Kip’s deep jade eyes and never move. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about apartments and jobs and what was going to come next. He could just be and let go of everything building up inside to the point that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it together.
    “Yes, you are,” Kip told him.