First Flight (9 page)

“He doesn’t have any,”
Chris said.
“Not now.”

“Sings-like-water?”

Chris wobbled sharply as he turned to look at Light-on-water, his mouth hanging open.
“Sings—Who
is
that?”

“You, you
are
my lost Sings-like-water,”
she said, dropping from wood to warm shoulder. She pushed her beak into his hair and tried to straighten it, but it wasn’t nearly as cooperative as feathers or baby down.
“What happened? Why are you like this?”

“He is a man! Not yours!”
Fell-from-tree squawked.

“He has not been right since he fell,”
Light-on-water said, then nibbled at Chris’s hair again.

“My mother was Laughs-and-straightens,”
Chris said.
“Is that you?”

“You called me that as a hatchling, but my name is Light-on-water,”
she said.
“Why? Where are your beautiful wings, your fine tail?”

“I don’t know,”
Chris said.
“I remember I fell. I fell, because I gave up my wings. For something I could not find in the sky. This one.”
He patted Jesse.

“How?”
Sees-caches said, creeping along the branch toward the man and his own mate.

“I don’t know,”
Chris said.
“I don’t know anything.”

“Strange,”
Plays-with-stones said.
“Strange, strange Sings-like-water.”
She stepped forward and flitted gracefully onto Jesse’s shoulder, the better to see him.
“Hello.”

“Hi,” Jesse said, leaning back to look at her. He still had no idea what was being said, but it seemed like the proper response.

Plays-with-stones tugged at the fleshy bit that stuck out from the side of Jesse’s head.

“Ow,” he said, twisting his head, trying to get his ear away from the curious bird. “Please stop that.”

Hm. Stuck fast, and apparently not to eat
.
Too bad
. She turned her attention to the soft stuff under her feet, pulling at the edge of it. It didn’t seem to be edible, either, and she muttered to herself at the discovery.

Sees-caches jumped and hopped along until he could settle on Chris’s other shoulder.
“You chose this one?”

Chris nodded.
“Yes. He came in summer, singing.”

“I remember!”
Plays-with-stones bounced onto Jesse’s head, ignoring his exclamation of surprise.
“Lots of noise, and Sings-like-water always watching.”

“No noise!”
Fell-from-tree snapped.
“Hush!”

“Will he feed hatchlings?”
Light-on-water leaned forward, looking at Jesse.
“Can he build a strong nest?”

“Twice as much as he feeds me,”
Chris said, though he didn’t actually know. The answer felt right, though, and he nodded again.
“We have a good nest, strong and safe.”

“A nest now? How many eggs?”
Light-on-water knew men were strange, but nests and eggs out of season? That was almost incomprehensible.

“No eggs,”
Chris said, and realized that he didn’t know anything about humans and offspring, other than they were noisy and sometimes terrible.
“Not yet.”
Pronouns were a human thing, so the fact that Jesse was a man didn’t register with Chris’s family. It also didn’t exclude the possibility of the two of them producing eggs.

“No eggs.”
She clucked and pushed hair behind his ear.
“It is not time for eggs, that’s why. They will come in spring.”

“Yes.”
Maybe. Chris had no idea, so he’d have to ask Jesse or Leanna.

“It is late,”
Sees-caches said, cocking his head and casting his gaze at the dimming sky.

“It is,”
Light-on-water said.

“Bad late,”
Fell-from-tree said.

“Then go,”
Chris said. He wanted to touch them, hold them close, but he didn’t know if they would let him.
“Rest well, eat well.”

“Rest well, eat well,”
Light-on-water said, then attempted to straighten his hair one last time.
“My not-lost Sings-like-water.”

“
C
HRIS
?”

The ravens had gone an hour ago, and it had been dark for about forty-five minutes.

“Sings-like-water,” Chris said.

“What?”

“My name. She called me that, Sings-like-water.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes.” Chris turned toward Jesse, though he couldn’t really see him. “Who am I?”

“You’re Christopher and Sings-like-water,” Jesse said.

“Who are they?”

“They’re my friend,” he said, patting along the bark of the tree until he found Chris’s hand. “I love them.” The words slipped from his mouth, easily, and for a moment he wondered just when he’d fallen for the strange young man.

“You only love Christopher,” Chris said, pulling his hand away.

“You were Sings-like-water first,” Jesse said, scooting over and putting his arm around Chris. “You’re still Sings-like-water. You love your spoon and eggs and liver and all good things like that, and, I don’t know, you’re better at being human. Even so, there’s still something different about you. Even Lucas noticed it and he doesn’t really know you. I love
you
, no matter what your name is. True, it’d be kind of weird to try to kiss a raven, and I’d never fit in a nest, but….”

“They don’t understand, either.”

What could he say to that? “I’m sorry.”

“I want to get down, now.”

It took them some doing to get out of the tree, but they managed. On the ground, in the faint light of the stars and the quarter moon, Chris caught hold of Jesse’s shirt and looked up at him. Jesse didn’t think about it, he just tipped his head, leaned down, and kissed him. He was gentle, this time, as he touched Chris, as he teased Chris’s mouth open; this time was theirs alone.

Chris whimpered as Jesse deepened the kiss, as Jesse touched him. He wrenched his mouth away, gasping. “More? Is there— I want— Show me,” he said, “Jesse—”

“Shh,” Jesse said, and led him over to the car. “Just lean there, yeah. Okay.” He started off with another kiss, slow and sweet, sliding his hands over Chris’s sides.

The heat of Jesse’s body, the feel of his hands and the taste of his mouth, they all drew him away from thinking and Chris was grateful for it. He tried to reciprocate, but he kept getting distracted and settled for just holding onto Jesse.

He shifted his weight, easing his left leg between Chris’s. “All right?”

“Uh-huh,” Chris said, letting his head fall back. Jesse was kissing his throat, the side of his neck, stopping when he got to the collar of his shirt. “Should I?” He let go of Jesse and put his hands on the top button of his shirt.

“If you want to,” Jesse said, and brushed a kiss across Chris’s lips.

“Yes,” he said and started unbuttoning. The idea of Jesse’s hands touching his skin, touching him without fabric in the way, made the little voice buzz with approval. Chris looked down as Jesse’s hands moved, but he was just undoing the buttons at the bottom of the placket. A few moments and their fingers met in the middle, getting in each other’s way instead of opening the last button.

“Let me,” Jesse said, “please?”

“Okay,” Chris said, nodding and letting his hands fall away. Once his shirt was open, Jesse pushed it back and pulled up the thin T-shirt he wore underneath, his hands spread wide across Chris’s skin. He hummed and moved his feet as Jesse’s fingers found his nipples; he made a throatier sound as he accidentally rubbed up against Jesse’s hip.

“Are you okay?” Jesse let go of him, peering at what he could see of Chris’s face. “Did that hurt?”

He shook his head and pulled the other young man closer. “It was good,” Chris said, curling his hands in Jesse’s shirt.

“Good,” Jesse said, and then he kissed Chris again, sweeping his thumbs over hard nipples.

Chris was beginning to get the hang of kissing, parting his lips in invitation and pressing his tongue to Jesse’s. His concentration moved lower almost immediately, however, as Jesse was
pinching
him. Not hard enough to hurt, but he’d never paid any real attention to the little round brownish-pink bits on his chest. He had no idea that they could feel like that. Each squeeze seemed to run straight down between his legs, and when he pushed himself up against Jesse, it was…. He tried to say something about it, but it just came out as a strange noise.

“Hey,” Jesse murmured into his ear, putting a scant inch or so of distance between them, “Chris? Can I”—he let his left hand drop down, covering the fly of Chris’s jeans and the definite erection behind it—“can I see you?”

“Dark,” Chris pointed out. His body wanted something more, but he didn’t know what and he had no words to ask for it.

“Yeah,” Jesse said, and pressed the heel of his hand down over denim. “Do you want me to, uh, go down?”

“Down where?” He didn’t want Jesse to go, not now. “Do you have to leave?”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” Jesse said and kissed him on the cheek. It was weird: Chris wasn’t refined or delicate or sheltered, he simply didn’t
know
. Still, somehow, talking to him about blow jobs just seemed
wrong
, like it would sully him or something. “No, I meant, uh, I can do something about this, if you want. I’d like to, but it’s up to you.” He pressed his hand down again.

“You can?” Chris pushed up into the pressure, closing his eyes. “Yes, please.”

“All right.” Jesse kissed him again, short little kisses from Chris’s cheek over his lips to his chin, bending his knees as he worked his way lower.

Chris opened his eyes because Jesse was kissing his chest and licking him and then— “
Oh
, what, what was that?”

“This?” Jesse carefully bit Chris’s right nipple and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, smiling as Chris moaned
yes
above him. Switching over to the left earned him a
Jesse!
and at that, he dropped to his knees.

Chris could only breathe and watch Jesse’s shadowy figure as he popped open the button on his pants, as he pulled the zip down.

“Oh wow,” Jesse said, his smile turning into a smirk as he discovered that Chris hadn’t bothered with underwear. “Bet that feels better. Look at that, mm.” He worked Chris’s jeans down a bit, then leaned forward and wrapped his hand around Chris’s cock.

“Uh-huh,” Chris squeaked, “I like that.”

Jesse made an amused sound and stroked him, slowly. He resisted the urge to say something cheesy, leaning forward instead and gently closing his mouth over the head. The half-expected cry still surprised him, the sound lost and wild.

Panting, he touched Jesse’s hair. “Jesse, what are you
doing?
”

“Going down on you. Do you want me to stop?”

“No! But….”

“What?” Jesse kept stroking him, slow and steady.

“It’s dirty?” But it had been so much
better
than just touching, and he really wanted Jesse to do it again. His little voice was somewhat confused, but didn’t object—couldn’t object, really.

“You took a shower this morning,” Jesse said, “you’re fine.”

“No, you have to wash your hands after the bathroom. So it’s dirty.”

Oh. That made an appalling amount of sense. “I love the way your mind works,” he said. “It’s okay, this time. If you’re really worried, I might have some condoms in the glove box.”

“It’s okay?” Finding condoms, whatever they were, would take time. And that meant he wouldn’t be
going down
. If Jesse said it was okay, then it must be.

“Yeah,” Jesse said, though he was compelled to add, “but it’s seriously up to you. If it’s going to bother you, I’ll find a rubber.”

“It’s okay,” Chris said, petting Jesse’s hair. “Go down again?”

“Awesome,” Jesse said.

Chris didn’t have a thought to spare for looking, though he was curious about what Jesse was doing; his whole world had become sensation. The wet heat of Jesse’s
mouth
and the touch of his hand—No,
hands
, Jesse was touching him with both hands, all of it good but not quite
enough
. “Almost—Jesse?
More!
” The last word was a moan as Jesse hummed around him and touched him again, another of those places he’d never thought of. Bright fire consumed him, a sharper, clearer pleasure than he’d ever known.

Jesse hummed again and ran his tongue around the head of Chris’s cock, teasing at the edge of his foreskin, hand moving steadily as Chris shivered and cried out above him.

He could do nothing but breathe as he regained his senses, breathe and settle back into his body, which felt strange. “Jesse, I can’t—” Chris wobbled and abruptly slid down the fender to sit on the ground, breathing fast and brain still fuzzy.

Jesse moved to sit beside Chris, putting his arms around him and tugging at him until Chris was more-or-less sitting in his lap. “You okay?”

“Don’t know,” Chris said, then yawned. He kissed Jesse, awkward but determined. To his delight, Jesse kissed him back, still holding him close. He scrunched down and curled up, tucking himself under Jesse’s chin. “That was good,” he said, after a few minutes of quiet.

“Yeah? Good. You ready to go home?”

“Okay.”

Chapter Thirteen

“
H
AND
me the top sheet, would you?” Jesse held out his hand. “Thanks.”

Chris passed the soft cotton sheet over, silent.

Jesse spread the sheet out on his bed, then turned around. “You’re still thinking about yesterday, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Chris lifted his hands, then let them fall again.

He shook his head. “Screw it,” Jesse said, and walked around the end of Chris’s bed to put his arms around the other young man. “I’m sorry, Chris.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry that I can’t help.” Jesse put a hand on the back of Chris’s head. “Sorry I can’t make it right.”

Chris wrapped his arms around Jesse, let his head rest on his shoulder.

“I want to. God, I want to fix things. I love you, and I wish saying that would just
fix
it.”

Neither of them noticed Desmond creep by the open door.