To You and Back

Chapter 16: Something More Than

Peter sat on the hardwood floor by the line of windows, his back to the cool glass, and a tumbler of gin dangling dangerously from the tips of his fingers. He was clad in soft pants and a sweater, bare feet on the warm wood, one knee raised. He held the phone to his ear with the other hand.

"What?" Charlie asked again, his voice over the line brittle. "What more could you possibly say? What more could you ask me to believe?"

Peter swallowed around a lump in his throat. "Nothing," he replied softly. "It's in your hands now."

The called ended, and he let the hand with his phone fall away from his ear to his lap. Dark eyes closed as he let his head fall back, dark hair pressing on glass that was cool against his scalp. Behind him the night was clear, a strip of midnight blue sky just visible from his place on the floor. Beyond the railing the city scape unfurled like an ocean to the horizon, dark buildings and winding streets twinkling with lights, more brilliant than the stars, swirling around the dark rectangle of the park. It was a view more special and familiar to him than any other, the reason he had bought the apartment, and one that connected him to his most prized memory. Manhattan, its skyscrapers glittering around Central Park, stretched out in a panoramic...

**

TEN YEARS AGO

...that took over an entire wall of the bedroom. A painting of silhouettes that had twinkle lights imbedded, so that when turned on they lit the buildings, giving it life of its own. It had been the first thing Charlie bought with money from his part time job, and it had a place of honor behind his bed. Most nights he would spend hours with the curtains drawn and the lights on, his head at the foot of the bed and looking up at the sparkling city, imagining a future when he would live there. Right now, though, the lights were off, and he wasn't looking at the picture, for he was too busy with the boy on the bed with him.

The two fifteen-year-old boys were locked in a kiss that miraculously didn't leave them dead from lack of oxygen. Rolling back and forth on the narrow single bed, clothes were about to come off when the other boy suddenly pulled away.

Looking down at Charlie, he panted, "You've done this before, right?"

"No," Charlie said, out of breath himself. "That's kind of why I brought you home."

"You make me sound like a stray dog."

"That a problem?"

The boy looked down at him, at the beautiful boy with shinning blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, who had his pick of anyone, boy or girl, and who had chosen him. "Nope," he said, and resumed the kiss.

No sooner had he done so, there was a sound from outside, a sort of thumping, and he pulled away again. "Is someone home?"

"No," Charlie said sharply, beginning to get irritated at the interruptions. Reaching up, he pulled the boy back into the kiss.

But the sound came again, louder, and closer, and the boy pulled away. "Okay, I definitely hear someone out there. Are you sure it's not your brother?"

The boy had good reason to be scared; Michael was known for being protective, and only last week had punched a college prep tutor for making advances on his brother.

"Oh, my god," Charlie said in exasperation. "No, I don't know, I'm in here with you."

"Can you go check?"

With a sharp sigh, Charlie pushed him off and got to his feet. He went to the door and opened it. Across the hall was his brother's room, which should have been empty, but there was a hem of light from under the door, and a moving shadow from within.