Page 72 of Refraction

17

Calvin hadnever flown first class. He felt like a king. Or like the President. Some big celebrity. He got a croissant, and hot scented towels, and a real glass for his water. With ice.

He’d put out his jeans shorts with the lace around the legs and his sparkly tank top before bed, and in the morning, they had turned into knee-length khaki shorts, a red T-shirt, and a navy baseball hat.

Silly Timmy.

He still felt like hell, mostly just really tired, but he’d slept on the plane some, and honestly? He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but seeing his man.

He pulled his baseball cap onto his head as he got off the plane. He had a plain black carry-on full of his important stuff, because Timmy had also taken away his I Love New York bag with the sequins on it.

How was Tucker supposed to recognize him?

Tucker was standing at the bottom of a long-assed escalator, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, a white straw cowboy hat. Calvin stared a second, because his Tucker was skinny. Like seriously-what-the-hell skinny. Then Tucker caught sight of him, and it didn’t matter, because that smile lit up the world.

Skinny or not, was he really expected to give his tiger a man-hug? He waved and started walking the rest of the way down the escalator.Hurry it up already.

“I can’t believe I’m here.”Screw the man-hug, Timmy.He spun his hat to the back, threw his arms around Tucker’s neck, and kissed him.

Tucker’s arms wrapped around him, held him close for a long minute like he was precious. “Did you check bags, honey?”

“Yeah, I have a suitcase. It’s so good to see you. I missed you.”I’m sorry I’m a mess, why haven’t you been eating, you need to call people, they worry, I should have texted you back, will you kiss me again?So many things in his head, he tried to breathe and make them all wait.

Tucker smelled so good, like everything he’d missed but more, and those arms were exactly what he needed. He could already feel his soul starting to stitch itself back together.

“I missed you like a lost limb.” Tucker leaned in, took another soft, gentle kiss, resting their foreheads together for a second. “Come on, let’s get your bag and we’ll go.”

They waited at the carousel until his bag came around. It was large and plain black, one that Michael had bought him the first time they went to Paris for a shoot. He found it easily, recognizing the leopard strap around the outside.

“Hang on.” He turned Tucker just so and then leaned up and kissed him on the cheek as he snapped a selfie. He showed it to Tucker. There was a sign over Tucker’s head that read “Austin.”

“We’re cute, right? Just let me text….”

Tucker chuckled softly and took his suitcase. “Tell him I promise not to eat you up.”

“I will. He told me to apologize to you, by the way. What do you want me to tell Marge?”

Tucker shook his head, shrugged, the motion awkward and natural, all at the same time. “That I got you, I guess.”

“Okay…,” he said, thumbs flying. “Tucker says he’s got me and….” He looked at Tucker. “Sends his love, right?”

“Always.” Oh. Okay, that was right. That smile was real and fond and yeah. Right on. Better.

He finished his text and sent it off with a smile, sure already that this visit was going to be good for them both. “Okay, lead on, tiger.”

Tucker hadn’t been lying about the heat. Walking outside was like stepping into a sauna, but Tucker walked him across the street to a parking garage filled with a thousand shiny trucks. “I’m over here.”

Tucker clicked his key fob, and a huge red truck lit up. “I’ll put your bag in the back. There’s a cover.”

He practically squealed, he was so delighted. “I love your truck!” He hadn’t been in a truck since he lived in Vermont, and the trucks they drove were nowhere near this fancy. He let Tucker put his bag in and ran around to the passenger side, eager to check out the inside. “It’s so sexy!”

“Thank you, sir. I like her just fine.” Tucker leaned over, opened the door for him, and kissed him as he loaded up, the leather seats soft as butter.

“If anyone had picked me up in a truck like this in high school?” He whistled. “That would have been one hot night.” He reached over and turned on the radio.

“My pickup when I was a teenager was great. It was a jacked-up beast, bright yellow. I loved it.”

He had to shake his head. He hadn’t expected Tucker to drive a screaming red truck. He’d figured it would be way more understated. So the bright yellow jacked-up thing just made him laugh. “And who did you pick up in that pickup, cowboy?”

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