Work Text:
It had felt like a particularly rainy spring in the Valley, the smell of soaked soil still permeating the air with freshness and a touch of damp. The old den wasn’t exactly warm, but it was an improvement from the crisp Roarton air, dried enough inside with a couple days’ relief from the seemingly constant storm. Summertime and its smatterings of heat couldn’t come quicker.
Kieren fished a packet of fags from his pocket. He tipped the carton towards Rick, who thanked him as he plucked a ciggy.
“Got a light, gorgeous?” He teased with noir flair.
“Wish I had some of those strike-anywheres,” Kieren produced a disposable lighter, “I’d use your forehead.”
Rick leaned forward, fag dangling from his mouth. Kieren couldn’t hide a little smirk as he lit him up carefully; the cave encouraged closeness.
“That’ll help with the buzz.”
“You’ll help with the buzz,” Rick mumbled, lazily taking a drag.
Kieren felt his stomach flip. There was nothing like being together in their place, with the promise of no prying eyes. The two of them hunched side-by-side, the scent of the Rick’s denim jacket intermingled with tobacco. It was almost as intoxicating to his young system as the White Lightning.
He let his head fall onto Rick’s shoulder, taking a swig from the plastic bottle before lighting up himself. The smoke stung a bit at his tired eyes, accumulating where the boys sat and puffed.
“Here,” Kieren nudged Rick with the bottle, glancing up at his torchlit face. Rick met him with a look that made Kieren’s insides feel heavy, taking the booze without breaking his gaze. Rick had fallen hard for those big brown eyes. Kieren’d fallen hard for Rick’s.
He took a swig with shallow breath, making bubbles in the bottle as one drink turned into a couple. Kieren grabbed at it playfully, Rick rasping a bit as he capped it. He caught Kieren’s skinny arms with bruise-like force. It was often the way with Rick; he was blunt, always coming on like he was jumping from a diving board. Kieren inhaled sharply as the space between their bodies closed, fingers falling softly against the other’s neck. Rick’s mouth was on his and this was what he’d been waiting for all afternoon.
His jeans started to feel warm.
Rick was going to miss this. The idea was, someday he’d be past it. But for tonight, his brain was foggy and blissful. And Kieren was fucking fit. He loved his frayed black denim and those circles around his eyes from making art in the night. His soft lashes and ginger hair. His big boots that made him look and feel a bit taller. Those things were special in Roarton. He was unafraid.
Fuck, he didn’t want to leave this.
He helped Kieren gulp the last of the bottle and touched him through his pants. It felt good to be wanted. Felt good to see what he did to him.
Ren could kiss like a firecracker. Rick’s mouth opened against his mate’s, lips grazing teeth. Kieren hummed with exhilaration, their legs becoming tangled as they fumbled to align their hips. They hadn’t gone much farther than this, Rick dreaming about the soft hair on Kieren’s belly as they rocked against each other clumsily.
His cold hands snaked beneath Kieren’s shirt, making him jump. Rick persisted, fingers on the other's nipples.
“Oy!” Kieren rolled back with a grin, Rick hugged him closer.
“Still wanna get those pierced, d'yer?” Rick giggled into Ren’s mouth.
“Nah—" Kieren moved Rick’s hands to his waist, smiling bashfully at his own impulsive ideas. The other relished the feeling of warm skin against his, knowing full well it couldn’t be forever.
“Don’t do your lip. Be like kissing a fishhook.”
“Relax, haven’t even done me ears.”
“Haven’t done yer nails in a while,” Rick pressed his lips against Kieren’s again, hard. “I like the black.”
“You’re about the only one who does.”
“Maybe I like that, too.”
Rick eyed their graffiti on the cave wall from years past, Ren Rick 4Ever. He smiled dopily, one hand on Kieren’s chin and one dangerously close to his crotch. Kieren wondered eagerly when they’d graduate to experimenting skin-to-skin. He was more than ready. Rick was not.
“Drunk,” Kieren chastised, though he was in no better shape. He took a deep breath, feeling short on oxygen with Rick’s hand on his thigh, thinking confidently that he’d get what he wanted in time. He popped another cig into his mouth. “Another?” The fag wobbled in his lips. Rick couldn’t look away.
“Sure, why not.”
They moved a little ways closer to the entrance of the cave, more room for the smoke to air out. The cool air washed over Kieren, easing his hormones.
“You’ll miss me,” Rick murmured, “When you go off to school?”
“‘Course I will. But you can always come visit me, y’know. When home gets to be too much.”
“Right,” he agreed absently.
“Got plenty of time ahead, though. All summer.”
Rick wouldn’t trade this night of messing around with Ren for all the guilt that threatened to bubble to the surface.
“I’m not counting down the days,” he continued, “but… it’s exciting.”
“I’m really proud of you,” Rick tried to be sincere. “For getting out of here. On pure talent.” His smile was convincing enough.
“And a winter of fucking applications,” Kieren took a drag from his ciggy. He took Rick’s hand. “Couldn’t’a done it without you. Wouldn’t be here without you.”
Rick smiled tightly into the night.
“I think I’ve gotta go, Ren. It’s getting late.”
“Right,” Kieren gave Rick’s hand a final squeeze. “See yer tomorrow?”
“See yer tomorrow.”
Rick turned on his torch, Kieren watched him go, a dark silhouette against the illuminated trees ahead.
That was the last he ever saw of Rick Macy.