Something Like Thunder

  Caesar returned to bed, pulled back the covers, and hopped in. He leaned across Nathaniel’s waist, propping himself up with one elbow. This gave him perfect access to Nathaniel’s cock, which he took hold of gingerly. Nathaniel glanced down to see him rolling the foreskin up over the head before tugging gently on the loose skin.

  “Wow! This is so cool!

  “It’s not a toy,” Nathaniel complained.

  “I beg to differ. Does this feel good?” Caesar ran his tongue around the ring of skin, causing him to moan. “What else do you like?”

  “I don’t care,” Nathaniel said, his head flopping back on the pillow. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t stop.”

  Caesar kept playing, trying out different techniques, all of which felt good. When Nathaniel whispered a warning that he was getting close, Caesar replied with “Yeah. Do it!”

  Nathaniel did, his hips bucking. Caesar didn’t swallow, choosing instead to watch the show. From the impressed noises he made followed by a happy laugh, he wasn’t disappointed.

  “We’re going to need a towel,” he said. “Maybe two.”

  “Just get up here,” Nathaniel replied.

  “Seriously. This is really—”

  “Now.”

  Caesar obeyed, Nathaniel grabbing him tight.

  “Ew! We’re going to get glued together.”

  “I don’t care,” Nathaniel said. “You know why?”

  Caesar stopped resisting and relaxed into his arms. “Why?”

  “Because you’re right. This isn’t a one-time thing.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah,” Nathaniel said with a squeeze. “I promise.”

  Chapter Seven

  The drive back to Texas was more relaxed than Nathaniel had imagined it would be. Sure, he was still racing toward home in the hope of learning the truth, but now he had a boyfriend at his side. One who went down on him somewhere in Oklahoma. Caesar had seemed so shy and repressed when Nathaniel had first met him. Then he had discovered a more confident side, a guy who liked to make his girlfriend laugh. And now… Nathaniel didn’t have anyone to compare him to, but he sure seemed wild. Not that it mattered. He didn’t focus on the sex much because best of all was how Caesar kept reaching over to take his hand during the drive, eyes shiny as he grinned.

  As they passed through Dallas, Nathaniel decided they needed to talk. “We could tell your parents,” he said, testing the waters. “We aren’t doing anything illegal.”

  Caesar mulled this over. “I don’t think they would let you keep living there, and right now I’m really liking the idea of you being around.”

  “Yeah, me too. We’ll have to be careful. No messing around at the house.”

  Caesar snorted. “So anytime we want to do it, we’ll have to find a bush somewhere? That doesn’t sound safe.”

  “We just have to be smart. That’s all I mean.”

  He wasn’t so cautious when they reached Houston. He dropped off Caesar at the Hubbards’ house before driving over to his former residence. He didn’t worry about Dwight being home or running into his father. Heath. Nathaniel didn’t concern himself about any of that. He simply hoped luck would be on his side. And it was. His mother met him in the entryway. As much anger that had pounded through his veins over the past twenty-four hours, he never felt he had lost her, which made accepting her hug easy.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

  “I need answers.” Nathaniel took a step back. “I want to know everything.”

  Star nodded. “Come to the kitchen with me. Are you hungry?”

  “No,” he lied. “I just want to talk.”

  His mother had been expecting him. Or maybe she needed to revisit the past because a handful of Polaroids were spread out on the table, next to them a thick stack of photos. Star sat in front of these, Nathaniel looking over her shoulder until she scooted aside and patted one of the wooden chairs. Nathaniel took a seat, eyes not leaving the images. Most of them were of Victor and her.

  “This was from our European trip,” she said, tapping a photo of Victor sitting on the banks of a river, an open bottle of wine next to him. “Paris. He liked it there, but not nearly as much as he liked Dublin.”

  “Where was I?” Nathaniel asked. “Had I already been born?”

  His mother nodded. “Your grandparents did a lot of babysitting back then. Mostly because I was still naïve enough to think—”

  “Wait,” Nathaniel said with a huff. “You were gallivanting around Europe with this guy and just left Granny and Gramps to raise me?” He snatched one of the photos. In it his mother stood with one hand on her hip, the other pointing a long baguette at the camera like it was a sword. She looked so young. “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  He scrunched up his face. “And they let you go to Paris?”

  “No. I was fifteen when I got pregnant. With you.”

  Nathaniel’s anger ebbed. He felt… weird. Like he’d been a burden his entire life, an unhappy occurrence. An unwanted baby. He just never knew it before.

  “I love you,” his mother said, searching his face. “I wanted you! I never once thought about giving you up. I never considered… There was no alternative in my mind. The second I found out I was pregnant, I knew I would keep you. It wasn’t easy at times, but I have no regrets.”

  “Then how come I’m not with you?” Nathaniel said, gesturing to the photos. He reached for the stack and started flipping through. Most were of Victor, his hair grown out and messy before a trim and gel returned definition to the mohawk. He only smiled in a handful of the pictures, his nose lightly sunburned. Others were of them together, Victor with an arm around his mother’s neck as he threw a peace sign. But they remained a lonely duet. Nathaniel looked up and swallowed. “You wanted me. He didn’t.”

  Star shook her head. “That’s not true.”

  “Then why hasn’t he been around? How come he never calls or sends a stupid Christmas present to make up for being such a shitty father?”

  “Nate,” his mother said, pleading with him.

  “Tell me!”

  “He didn’t know.”

  Nathaniel stared. “What?”

  “I was fifteen. He was thirteen.” Star licked her lips nervously, then hurried to explain. “You have to understand, Victor wasn’t like other people. He wasn’t like anyone I had ever met before. Or since. He was an old soul, or seemed mature back then, because I thought he was my age when we first met. Victor was running with his cousin at the time. That’s who introduced us. We used to be friends, I guess. We were so wild. Victor too, but he was thoughtful. Always thinking, always talking. Pretty soon he was all I cared about.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him?” Nathaniel said, his throat tight.

  “He was thirteen.” Star exhaled. “Victor got into trouble for stealing a gun. Not a real one. Just an air pistol, but it was enough to scare his mother into taking action. She sent him to a military academy, and I found out shortly thereafter that you were on the way.”

  “He wasn’t allowed to get mail?” Nathaniel said. “You couldn’t write him a letter?”

  “Victor had a lot of complicated philosophies.”

  “Meaning?”

  Star hesitated. “He wasn’t fond of the idea of relationships. Or commitment.”

  Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest. “He sounds ridiculous.”

  “He wasn’t.” Star sighed wearily. “Or maybe he was. I thought I could change him, that I could slowly win him over and make him mine.” She shook her head. “I was so stupid. So young and stupid.”

  Nathaniel studied her, clamping down on the sympathy that her sad expression summoned in him. Instead he focused on reading between the lines. “You didn’t tell him about me because you thought it would scare him off.”

  “It would have terrified him,” Star said. “I know, because I was freaking out myself. As much as I wanted you, I worried I wouldn’
t be a good mother, that I wasn’t ready, and that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you. What help would a thirteen-year-old boy be? So I turned to my parents, and we made a plan. I went to stay with my aunt in Kansas City and— Jesus, I know how old-fashioned this sounds, but it wasn’t like that. I needed my privacy, needed to get away from the prying eyes in that awful small town. So I had you, and when I returned to Warrensburg, I didn’t feel the need to tell anyone where I had been. Or why.”

  “They must have seen.”

  “It’s not like I took you to school with me.” Star chewed her bottom lip. “I’m not proud of this, but when in public, we pretended you were my little brother.”

  Nathaniel’s stomach turned. “Is that what you told him?”

  “Yes. He was surprised, but your grandma was a lot younger then. It wasn’t impossible, but we made sure to call you Nate.”

  “How come?”

  Star’s smile was sad. “Victor Nathaniel Hemingway.”

  Nathaniel felt raw inside. “You named me after him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he never noticed?”

  “I don’t think he ever knew your full name. At the time he was… distracted. Whatever happened to him in the military academy nearly broke him. It took a while before he found himself again, and when he did, he was even more aloof than before.”

  “Poor guy,” Nathaniel said without sympathy. Then he reminded himself that he wasn’t angry at Victor. How could he have been a good father when he was never given a chance? “Did he ever meet me?”

  “Of course!” His mother reached for the photos he had been sifting through, finding one and handing it to him. Nathaniel was very small, just finding his feet, which is probably why his smiling mother held one of his hands. Victor held the other. In the photo, Nathaniel was looking up at him and wearing a slightly puzzled expression, as if he wasn’t sure who this person was. Or why he seemed so familiar. As for Victor, his head was turned away from both of them, looking at something off camera.

  “Is this the only one?” Nathaniel asked, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

  “The only photo of you together?” Star asked. Then she nodded. “I think so.”

  “I want it.”

  “Okay.”

  “I also want his phone number and his address. You chose not to tell him about me back then, but now it’s my decision. He needs to know that he’s my father.”

  Star appeared strained. “Heath is your father.”

  “He’s nothing to me!” Nathaniel snapped. “Him or his stupid son! I can almost forgive the decisions you made, but I can’t forgive them.” He thumped one of the photos of Victor. “I don’t care what his issues are. I’d rather you stayed with him!”

  “I was trying to give you a family. I wanted you to grow up with a father, but with Victor that wasn’t possible. Heath wanted a family.”

  “Dwight knows all of this, doesn’t he? That’s why he hates me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you. And no, aside from a few confusing memories, he has no idea. His mother was an addict. That’s how she and Heath met. They were together a few years, but she always struggled with drugs. Eventually, she chose them over her own child. Heath wanted his son to have a mother just as much as I wanted a father for you. I know it must sound cruel or manipulative, but you were both young enough that we felt it wasn’t too late. We were trying to do the right thing.”

  “Well you failed. I’d rather have been raised by Granny and Gramps than live the life you gave me.” His mother appeared hurt and more than a little ashamed, which made him feel bad. His tone was more gentle when he continued. “You should have left him the first time he hit you.”

  Star looked away. “I thought about it. I really did. But I didn’t want to abandon Dwight. He was just a little boy. Besides, if I have one weakness, it’s thinking I can change the men I love.”

  Nathaniel put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to stay with him. We’ll get a place of our own. I’ll get a full-time job. College can wait, or I’ll do night classes. All that matters is us being together. And you being safe.”

  His mother took a deep, shuddering breath and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “You’re the only thing I ever did right. You know that?” Then she composed herself. “I made my choices. Now I have to live with them. I won’t screw up your life more than I already have.”

  “Fuck college,” Nathaniel said. “Fuck everything else. You’re all that matters to me.”

  “That’s not true,” his mother said. “I don’t want it to be. I’ll leave when I’m ready to leave. I’m stronger than you think.”

  Nathaniel considered it all from a distance, how scary it must feel to get pregnant at fifteen; how even at his age, he wouldn’t be ready or capable of dealing with something like that. “I know you’re strong,” he said. “That’s what makes it so hard to understand.”

  “Love rarely makes sense,” his mother said. “You’ll discover that for yourself.”

  He frowned and considered the photos, moving them around as if trying to solve a puzzle. “I want to see him,” he said. “Maybe I won’t tell him who I am. But I at least want to meet him face to face.”

  “I’m sorry,” his mother said. “I really am.”

  He didn’t understand what this meant until he saw the tears spill down her cheeks. Getting out the next two words made his throat ache. “What happened?”

  “He’s gone,” Star said, shaking her head as if even she didn’t want to believe it. “Victor died a long time ago.”

  * * * * *

  “Suicide.” The word felt acidic on his tongue, as if it would burn through his mouth, leaving him unable to speak again.

  Caesar was wide-eyed, his expression uncertain as he stood up from his bed. Nathaniel could hardly blame him, since he too found all of this difficult to comprehend. He hadn’t told Caesar everything. Just that Victor had taken his own life. The story was easier that way. Cleaner. The reason his real father wasn’t around was because he was dead. He didn’t need to know all the details about Heath. Nathaniel didn’t want to focus on those. All he could think about was a man he had never met and never would. He didn’t feel justified in mourning his passing. And yet he did.

  “Why?” Caesar managed.

  “Nobody knows. She thinks he had some sort of mental illness.” He said this unwillingly, as if the words increased the possibility that he might suffer from the same problem. Then again, even the darkest moments of his life didn’t stir such thoughts.

  “Come here,” Caesar said, offering his hand.

  Nathaniel hesitated. A hug, or even a kiss, wouldn’t make this better. He stepped forward anyway, certain this was a bad idea when Caesar reached for the hem of his shirt. “Now’s not the time.”

  “I know,” Caesar said. “I just want to feel close to you.” He lifted Nathaniel’s shirt tentatively, pulling it off completely when he didn’t meet resistance. Then he did the same with his own, reaching next for the button of his shorts. Nathaniel didn’t look, wasn’t aroused as Caesar stripped down to his underwear. Instead he locked eyes with him, astounded that Caesar’s were watery with sympathy. Nathaniel felt the need to cry but was unwilling. He removed his jeans. Caesar extended his hand again, and this time Nathaniel took it and was led around the bed. Caesar climbed in first, remaining on his knees so he could pull Nathaniel in after him.

  Caesar kicked the covers down enough to slip under them, still pulling on Nathaniel, reluctant to release him. “Lay down,” he whispered. “Turn around.”

  Nathaniel felt puzzled as he did so, stretching out on his side while facing the far side of the room. A moment later, Caesar slipped an arm around his chest, pulling him close. The body pressed against his was warm. Comforting. He leaned into Caesar and allowed himself to bask in the sensation. He felt the reassuring beat of another heart against his back, listened to the calming sound of breathing as Caesar’s lungs filled and emptied.


  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Nathaniel wasn’t. Not right now because all the pain he had been through, all the hard truths he had just learned, convinced him of one thing: He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. Regardless of what it took, his time with Caesar wouldn’t end badly. They wouldn’t be separated, wouldn’t lie to each other, no matter how good their intentions. Nathaniel would do everything in his power to see them through to their happy ending. He pulled on Caesar’s arm to draw him even closer.

  “I love you,” Nathaniel said, not taking another breath until the answer came.

  Caesar placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. “I love you too.”

  * * * * *

  “I wish there was something I could do,” Rebecca said.

  “It’s fine.” Nathaniel met her gaze in the bathroom mirror. This was an awkward setting to have this conversation, but they had work to do in here.

  “It’s not fine,” she said, calling his bluff. “I can see from your face that you’re hurt. I wish I had a magic spell to bring him back to life for you. Or at least make it possible for you to speak to him.”

  “I think I’d rather forget the truth.”

  “Obliviate,” Rebecca said, waving the hair clippers like they were a magic wand.

  “Sorry,” Nathaniel said. “Even J.K. Rowling can’t fix this mess.”

  “He must have family. Have you tried tracking them down?”

  “Sort of.” Nathaniel turned around to face her and leaned against the counter. “I keep calling my mom with questions, and each time I do, I regret it. Victor’s dad ran off when he was young and she doesn’t know his name. Something ending in Hemingway, presumably.”

  “That was Victor’s last name?”

  He nodded.

  “Nathaniel Hemingway. Sounds poetic.”

  “Sounds like somebody else, not me. Anyway, Victor was close to his mother. I found her on the Internet.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. In an obituary from a few years back.”

  “Oh.”

  Nathaniel took a deep breath. “The only other family my mom knows of was his cousin. Last she heard, he went to prison for sexual assault. I haven’t tried finding him. I’m not sure I want to talk to someone like that.”