Page 78 of Icarus

He’d save up more money. Their house would be sober. They’d pick friends who respected that and ditch the ones that didn’t. Maybe they would live somewhere more rural. Not in the middle of nowhere, because that might actually be worse. But maybe a township or something. Somewhere with a detox center nearby . . . a good hospital.

If they tried, maybe it would be okay.

Even if a real relationship didn’t work out, they could look out for each other. Help each other heal from everything that happened before they went their own ways.

Icarus was almost eighteen. He’d be a man in less than a month. He trusted himself to figure it out.

Whisper

The morning found him soft and bright, curled toward the edge of the bed.

Icarus stretched and yawned and turned over to find Helios awake and looking at him. Helios’s eyes darted away quickly.

Fear, again.

Icarus had never had someone look at him like this so often. Like he was bigger than he was, like he was dangerous.

He reached across the space and brushed his thumb against Helios’s cheek. Skittered his fingers over the arch of Helios’s eyebrow, brushed his wrist against Helios’s jaw as he pulled his hand back and away.

Pant

They kissed again in the pantry.

Helios apparently having reached the limit of his politeness and composure somewhere between Icarus putting milk on the table and getting a box of cornflakes.

He pushed Icarus farther into the dark warm room, begged him down to the floor, and clambered into his lap, long legged and heavy, asking to be touched.

He ran the bridge of his nose up the side of Icarus’s neck, teased his teeth against Icarus’s ear, and flicked the tip of his tongue at Icarus’s bottom lip until Icarus caught him with a firm hand on the back of his neck.

Shook him once. “Less.” Instead of more.

He leaned up into Helios’s space and brushed their mouths together. Holding Helios back until he keened. Icarus was sure Helios wanted something much more elaborate, but this alone made Icarus feel raw, feel flayed open. Helios scrunched his hands into Icarus’s shirt like he understood that Icarus couldn’t take gestures bigger than this and Icarus was grateful.

So he cupped his hand behind Helios’s head and lowered him backward down to the floor.

“Give me anything,” Helios asked.

“I’m trying.” He thought a bit, then curled his arm under Helios’s thigh, lifting to rest it on his hip. Shoved his knee beneath him, until they were twisted like girls.

Helios grinned. “Really?”

Icarus rolled his spine like the crack of a whip and Helios slammed his head back on the granite.

“Stop underestimating me.”

He turned Helios inside out. Rested his forehead on Helios’s knee until Helios clawed at the floor and said a litany of beautiful and rude things about him.

Then, because he was technically still a guest, Icarus cleaned up his mess.

Check

Icarus had never spent so much time with another person in his life, so he begged off to be by himself for a while to recharge. He walked through the backyard and to the edge of the trees while Helios went back to sleep.

Icarus stuck his feet in the fence and climbed over to sit on the wood.

He pulled out his phone and texted Celestina:

Icarus: How are you?