few minutes, Trent had reappeared with a bowl of assorted berries, topped with whipped cream. He had a flash of what they could do with those berries and cream, but figured that wasn’t Trent’s plan. At least, not immediately.
Trent peered up at him from a spoonful of fruit he’d just consumed, a dollop of the cream still clinging to his upper lip. He licked it up with a quick swipe of his tongue and Shawn groaned before he could stop himself. Trent gave him a quirky smile.
“You’re quite the rascal.”
Shawn snickered. “Rascal? Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “So, I was curious ’cause I don’t really know very much about you. I mean…were you born here in Vegas? Do you have family nearby?”
Trent arched his eyebrows then nodded. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Except for the Vegas part. I already know you’re from LA.”
“Vicki?”
“Nah. Lee told me.”
Shawn shook his head. “Lee?”
“Best friend. We grew up together in Pahrump, and he’s one of the guys at Station 32.”
“Oh, that Lee. Is he…?”
“No. He’s not gay. But we’ve known each other since kindergarten.”
“Damn. I wish I had someone I’d been close to for that long.” Shawn frowned. “How’d he know where I was from?”
Trent shrugged. “Usual inter-departmental gossip, I suppose.” He locked eyes with Shawn again. “He informed me the day of the blood drive.”
“Oh.” Shawn squirmed in his chair. “Did you ask him?”
“Didn’t have to. When you’ve known someone for as many years as we have, they can tell.”
“Tell?”
“That I liked you.”
Shawn swallowed, working up his courage. “I liked you then too.”
“Hmmph.”
“What?”
“I guess I was being silly.”
Shawn reached across the small glass table and took Trent’s hand.
“No you weren’t. I understand now.”
Trent squeezed his hand, but didn’t let go. They talked some more, filling each other in on some highlights of their early years, why they’d chosen their respective careers. There had been similar reasons driving their job decisions. They both liked the outdoors, not being stuck behind a desk and the satisfaction of helping people.
Shawn also learned that Trent had been raised by a single mom that he didn’t have much contact with—that they’d lived in a trailer and had barely scraped by. Shawn shared with Trent how his family, while big and middle class, didn’t really want him around that much. Hadn’t for a while. Their religious background didn’t allow for a gay family member, unless, of course, he’d been willing to ‘pray the gay away’.
The most revealing thing about their conversation was that they’d both been cursed with severely homophobic brothers.
“Chris told me he was glad I was moving away. He said that he was the only one in the family that had the courage to say to my face that he hated me—that they all felt that way about me.”
“Fucking prick.” Trent had a pained expression on his face. “I’m sorry.”
Shawn exhaled slowly, the talk of his brother forming a knot in his stomach the way it always did. It was a reminder that he really was all alone in the world.
Trent stood then moved to kneel beside his chair. He took one of Shawn’s hands and sandwiched it between his own.
“They obviously don’t realize what they’re missing by not having you in their lives.”
Trent caressed him, his strokes strong and assured. Comforting.
A surprising wave of emotion rose up in him and for a disconcerting moment, he thought he might tear up. He swallowed around the lump in his throat to tamp it down. He needed Trent to take him away from the ugly thoughts their conversation had brought up.
“Take me to bed?”
Without answering, Trent rose then gently tugged on Shawn’s hand, encouraging him to follow. The last thing Shawn needed was encouragement to go with Trent, but he liked the sensation of feeling wanted. Once they were inside his bedroom, Trent yanked
Learning to Kill: Stories