First Flight (8 page)

“I thought you and Kevin were an item,” Desmond said.

Chris didn’t like the way he said it, but he stayed quiet.

“Well, we were, until a couple of months ago,” Jesse said, with a quick tilt of his head. “He’s an a-absolute jerk, so I broke up with him.” He glanced at his mother before he went back to poking at his lasagna.

“Oh
good
,” Leanna said, serving Chris more lasagna without asking. “And now you and Chris are going out?”

“Thank you. You did not like Kevin?” Chris had learned not to tell people why he liked certain foods. No one wanted to hear that the noodles made him think of the skin of carcasses, hiding delicacies in the same way.

“There’s just something about him that I didn’t care for. He seemed…,” Leanna said, frowning and bobbing her head as she thought, “unhealthy.”

“No, Chris and I aren’t official or anything like that,” Jesse said, “I know the rules. Anyhow, so that’s why I’m kind of a mess. Could you pass the bread, Dad? Thanks.”

“If you’re not official, then why’re you kissing?” Desmond’s expression darkened as his brows drew down over his nose.

“Because I—”

“Because kissing is nice,” Chris said, the look on Desmond’s face worrying him. “And because I chose Jesse.”

“Chose—”

“Chose me as a friend,” Jesse said, quickly, “
just
a friend. That’s all. It won’t happen again.”

“Good.”

Chris ate his lasagna, quietly, sitting on the questions that the little discussion had stirred up.

“
J
ESSE
? At dinner, you said we weren’t official. Official what?”

Jesse dropped into his desk chair and nodded at Chris. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I should have— Well, I really should have been
thinking
, but anyhow. So. Uh, you remember that I told you how some people don’t like gay people?”

“Yes. Why?”

“My dad’s not— I mean, I know I’m lucky, because he didn’t kick me out of the house or anything when I told him about being gay. But he doesn’t like me to talk about liking guys, or talk about dating them or anything like that. So I’m not supposed to. And I’m not supposed to have guys over for, um, kissing or anything else,” Jesse said. He kicked his shoes off and pushed them aside. “So it’s important that he knows you and I aren’t officially boyfriends or anything like that. And besides, we
aren’t
, because neither of us has said ‘wanna go out with me’ or anything.”

“Oh,” Chris said, sitting on the end of Jesse’s bed. “I thought there was some sort of form to write on.” After a few more thoughtful moments, he said, “And we will not be kissing, anymore.”

“Well….” Jesse got up and closed the door. Returning to his computer, he started up an old episode of
Battlestar Galactica
, then sat down beside Chris. “Okay, you have to promise me that you won’t tell my parents about this.”

“I promise,” Chris said.

“I haven’t exactly been the good son they think I am.” Jesse’s expression was sheepish and pleased all at once. “I figure that as long as they don’t know about kissing or anything else, that’s as good as not having done it in the first place.”

“You broke the rule? But they don’t know, which makes it all right?” Chris didn’t think that was right. If Jesse said so, then that was what happened, but it didn’t fit with the picture he had of Jesse.

“It sounds bad, when you say it like that.” Jesse’s pleasure faded, leaving only embarrassment. “But yeah, basically. I mean, it’s not
fair
, being able to have a boyfriend, but I can’t
do
anything, I can’t
say
anything? I might as well
not
have one.”

“That does seem wrong.” Chris shook his head. “But we are not official. So there will be no more kissing.”

“And that sounds
really
depressing,” Jesse said with a sigh. “We don’t have to be going out to kiss or anything else.”

“We don’t? Oh.” That was an interesting idea. “But….”

“But what?” Hope lurched to life; Jesse would
not
push.

“But the rules say we can’t. And I don’t know who is supposed to do the asking.” Chris shrugged. “I thought that maybe you don’t want to be boyfriends, because you have not asked, but then I thought maybe
I
am allowed to ask. But I don’t know.”

“You’re allowed to ask,” Jesse said, taking Chris’s hand. They could think about the rules later, when there was room in his head for more than just the ringing incandescent
yes
that filled it. He had to swallow before he could speak, and even then his throat was dry. “But if you want me to, I can.”

Chris nodded, eyes wide.

There was something about the look that made Jesse’s heart kind of fall over, maybe, since it wasn’t really a skip. It also served as a reminder that Chris wasn’t as worldly as he seemed at times. “So, Chris? You wanna go out with me?”

“Yes!” And then, greatly daring, Chris leaned over and tried to kiss Jesse.

“Mmph, ow,” Jesse said, leaning back and touching his lip. “Stupid Kevin.”

“I’m sorry.” Chris touched Jesse’s lip as well. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Maybe. And we shouldn’t really be risking having Mom and Dad catch us, anyhow.” Jesse sighed and went back to his desk chair, pausing the show they weren’t actually watching. “You wanna finish watching
Lord of the Rings
? We stopped right before your favorite part, I think.”

“Yes, please!”

Chapter Eleven

T
HERE
was something looming over him. Looming, and then something
touching his mouth—
Chris put a hand up and ran into warm fabric over something—no, some
one
—and opened his eyes.

Jesse moved back, just enough to let Chris’s eyes focus. “Hey,” he said, “I made you breakfast. Your favorite.”

“Hi,” Chris said, and moved his hand up to Jesse’s lower lip. “You did? Why?”

“Because I’ve been a
huge
dick, lately. You made me breakfast and lunch for weeks, and I only said thanks, instead of, you know, fixing anything for you.” Jesse took a breath and moved his hand, carefully perching on the edge of Chris’s cot. “Among other things. We should go eat.” Because if they didn’t, he was pretty sure he was going to try things that would do his lip no good at all, in addition to making Chris late for work.

“Oh.” Chris still wasn’t entirely sure why being a
dick
was a bad thing. Jesse had told him that was what the thing between his legs was, but the thought of food was more compelling than worrying about what Jesse might be. “All right.”

Downstairs, he discovered that Jesse had indeed set out his favorite breakfast (cereal with a couple of eggs broken over it), in his favorite bowl, beside which was his favorite spoon. Chris sat down, added milk and honey to the mess in the bowl, and began to eat.

“Do you wanna walk this morning? It looks like the weather’s okay,” Jesse said, from where he leaned against the counter. “I can drive you, too.”

“Walking is fine,” Chris said, stirring his breakfast. “And I will come home for lunch with you.”

“All right.” Jesse sipped his coffee, then shook his head. “I have no idea what I’m going to do with myself.”

“Your mother said you should clean your room.” Chris shrugged and picked up his bowl, drinking the milk.

“Yeah, I guess I could do that,” he said, frowning at the idea. “Whoopee.”

“S
O
,
WE
have the afternoon to ourselves,” Jesse said, then finished off his fries. “You wanna do anything in particular?”

“I don’t know,” Chris said, licking salt from his fingers, “do you?”

“Uh, no, not really.” Jesse shook his head, but the image of Chris’s tongue stayed with him. “Oh, I know, we could go to the zoo.” They hadn’t been there yet. The aquarium, yes, but not the zoo. And what better way to make sure he behaved himself than being surrounded by packs of small children and humorless parents?

“What is the zoo?” Chris tried to remember if they’d ever talked about it before and couldn’t, so he ate the last of his burger instead.

“It’s a place where you can see all kinds of different animals, like elephants and flamingos and snakes and stuff. It’s pretty cool.”

Chris nodded and rounded up the trash nearest him. “All right, let’s go to the zoo.”

“
T
HERE
’
RE
more birds this way,” Jesse said, checking his map against the signs posted at the intersection of pathways. “Uh, looks like…. Oh.” He blinked up at the sign.
Raptors, Carrion Birds, Tropical Aviary
.

“Looks like what? A sign?” Chris waited politely, until a familiar sound brought his head up. “Oh. That was—excuse me,” he said, and walked off.

“Chris!” Jesse hurried after him, catching up just as he arrived at a large enclosure holding two huge black birds. “Hey, what’s—”

“Why are they locked up?” Chris’s face was strange and his knuckles white as he gripped the fence, leaning over as far as he could. “All the other animals have not been locked up, why are they?”

“I don’t know,” Jesse said, “uh, maybe to keep them from flying away? Or to keep them safe?”

“But that’s wrong, that’s
wrong
, they need to fly, to, to….” Chris made a plaintive sound, a creaking little cry.

The ravens hopped closer to the bars of their cage, tilting their heads this way and that as they looked at him. The one nearest Chris made a liquid pinging and he closed his eyes.

“Chris?”

Chris cried again, and the second raven made an inquisitive noise in return. A third sound escaped him, this one slightly different, and the first raven spread its wings. The right wing was whole, but only a third of the left remained. The bird settled its wings and pinged again.

“Oh,” Chris said. “Oh, that’s….” The second one stretched, too, but its wingspan was only half of what it should have been. He screwed up his face and made a sad imitation of the first one’s ping, then tried for something that came out as
quork
.

Jesse stared as the first raven
laughed
. The second one folded its wings and very clearly gave a wolf-whistle, and Chris just said
quork
again. His boyfriend talked to ravens. It was bizarre, yet sort of charming. He waited for a lull in the conversation, then quietly asked, “Everything okay, now?”

“Yes,” Chris said, nodding at him. “They’re safe and eat good food every day.”

“Good,” Jesse said. He pointed at the informational plaque to their right. “The sign over there says they were found out in the woods, hurt, and that they were brought here. If they could have let them go, they would have. The zoo gets a lot of its animals that way.”

“Oh,” Chris said, but he didn’t bother to look. He tried to make a pinging sound, but as before it just sort of sounded strangled. The second raven clucked at him, and the first trilled. “They only know that I am a man.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said, looking around. They were alone, so he slipped his arm around Chris.

“I am not surprised.” Chris sighed and leaned into the embrace, letting go of the fence. “Someday, I will know who I am. And then I will have two names.”

“And I’ll call you whichever one you want. Are you ready to go see the vultures?”

Chapter Twelve

“
Y
OU
guys take care!” Edie hugged Jesse and Chris in turn, then bounced off after Lucas, leaving them alone in front of the movie theater.

Chris waved as she looked back, then glanced at Jesse. “Jesse? Could we go out to the tree?”

“Sure,” he said and led the way through the parking lot.

Jesse saw them first, four black shapes winging their way through the evening sky. He nudged Chris and pointed them out, watching in fascination as they came closer, drawn by the distressed sound that Chris made.

The ravens were large, with bright sharp eyes and heavy sharp bills, their glossy feathers reminding him of Chris’s hair. One of them perched above Chris’s head, within arm’s reach, and clucked at him.

Chris blinked up at the bird, then made a more inquisitive rusty-gate sound, followed by a
quork
.

Another of the birds hopped down from its branch and lit beside the first one, twisting its head this way and that to get a look at Chris. The two of them murmured together, then the first raven clucked and chirruped at the man.

Jesse held his breath as they spoke, human and bird, trying to decipher the look on Chris’s face. Were these his parents? Or maybe aunts, uncles, or other relatives? Was this a happy reunion? Did either of them truly understand what was being said?

And then came other questions, like what if Chris turned back into a bird? What if
he
turned into a bird? (On the one hand, he and Chris could be together and no one could complain. On the other, his parents would be really upset, and he would miss his friends and stuff. On top of that, eating garbage didn’t appeal to him.)

They were men, sitting in this tree, men who smelled of the city. It would have been prudent—normal—to avoid them. However, one of them had sounded like a hatchling, alone and needing succor. A hatchling alone was not something Light-on-water could ignore, not after five broods of her own.

She could not understand how this big pale lumpy
man,
who was nothing like her sleek mate or their perfectly shaped offspring, could speak to her. Light-on-water could hear, in the strangely accented notes, the echoes of her lost one, the one who had disappeared.

“Leave men,”
Fell-from-tree said, from the far end of a branch.
“Bad.”

“Bad!”
Plays-with-stones echoed, ever the little sister.
“Bad, bad men.”

“Not bad!”
Chris said, putting his arm around Jesse.
“This one is good. He feeds me good food, feeds me eggs and liver and meat.”

“Liver!”
Plays-with-stones said, and fluttered up to sit right above Jesse’s head. She leaned over and peered at him.
“Liver? Give it!”