Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Juno had never been hiking before. Not really. He'd had plans to do it a few times with some guys he met who worked at the mall. He ruined one of his monthly eating-out budgets to get decent shoes and an outfit. Then plans fell apart.

Or they'd gone without him and forgot to mention it. The friendship eventually fizzled, and he hadn't thought about it again until he was perusing must-see things around the US. There were too many to put on his list. There were state parks and caverns. There were natural springs and manatees and island beaches entirely made out of shells. There were glaciers in Montana, and hot springs, and geysers. There was the strip in Vegas and the most twisted road in all of San Francisco. There were rainforests in the Pacific Northwest and redwood trees so huge someone could drive a car through them.

He'd seen photos of Arizona sunsets—all purples and pinks and oranges. And lightning storms in the middle of an empty desert. There were animals he couldn't name and tidepools with swimming creatures he'd never even heard of.

And he had to choose a handful of those things and possibly kiss the rest goodbye. Forever.

He wasn't even sure why the Eternal Flame hike made it on his list. Maybe because it was close. Maybe because he wanted it to mean something. He'd read an article that said it had been burning for hundreds of years, but then he read one that said the flame sometimes went out, and people had to light it again.

He started on the trail after Piper began to lead the way, and he stared down at his feet as they ate up space on the path. "If the light is burning, this is as bad as it gets," he murmured, then regretted it deeply.

He wasn't a superstitious guy. He didn't believe in intelligent design, or God, or a conscious universe. He didn't believe in spirits watching over him. The only thing he had faith in was that when life ended, that was it. He understood that energy never went away, and that's what all humans were: energy. But he trusted that there would be no consciousness.

He counted on that.

He needed it. He wanted to know he'd be part of the collective of the universe, and he wouldn't have to be aware anymore. No pain, no suffering, no sorrow. No happiness, no joy, no ecstasy.

But he was playing with fire now. Literally. His lack of spirituality was working against him because he had nothing to pray to for this thing he desperately wanted. And he wasn't expecting a happily ever after. Men like him didn't get those.

"Sugar?"

Except…maybe they did. In some form. The sound of Piper's voice made him smile. He looked up through his shades and had to turn his head, but he found Piper after a beat and caught up with him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am."

Piper reached out his hand, and Juno took it. Piper's lips were impossibly soft as they laid a warm kiss over his knuckles. "Tell me if you need to quit."

Juno squeezed his fingers and shook his head. "I promise I'm good." And he meant that.

The hike was longer than he expected, though he was invigorated by Piper's enthusiasm. It was cooler than where they'd come from and less humid. It was overcast with the promise of rain, which Juno wasn't going to mind at all. He knew his lovely Boy Scout would have ponchos or something in his little bag of wonders.

Juno was presently eating all the M&Ms out of the trail mix bag and throwing raisins into the forest, wondering if there was a chance for them to become grapevines next spring.

That led to a sudden, buried memory of one of the older kids in a group home telling him that seeds would grow in his belly if he ate one and then drank water after.

He'd been eating watermelon at the time and not bothering to spit out the little black bits. He was six and terrified that the boy had been telling the truth. He refused water for the next week and was nearly hospitalized with dehydration. He'd been put in a different home after that because his caregivers had known someone had said something, but Juno refused to talk.

"What are you thinking?"

Juno looked over at Piper as they started to climb over the small creek. It was low, so they had several rocks to balance on. Juno used Piper's hand to guide himself over and breathed a little easier once he was on steady land.

"I was six when I met Oliver for the first time," he said. "I'd just been moved out of a group home after some kid bullied me and I was hospitalized."

Piper sucked in a breath. "What the fuck?"

"He didn't hurt me. He just messed with my head, and I stopped drinking water. It was bad enough I needed an IV," Juno told him.

Piper pulled him to a stop. "I won't pretend to understand your experience, sugar, but you can't say he didn't hurt you if you ended up in the hospital."

Juno supposed he was right, but he'd suffered in so many other more insidious ways that this felt like nothing. But Piper was sweet, and Juno couldn't help but get addicted to how protective he was. He wanted to drop to his knees right there and promise to be his forever so long as Piper promised to keep him.

The idea of labels was getting harder and harder to resist.

"I could be mad about it, but I met Oliver in the next home, and that was the best day of my life."

For a moment, Juno thought Piper might get angry that he attributed that to someone who wasn't him, but Piper just smiled wider. "I hope I get to meet him someday. He sounds wonderful."

Juno breathed a little easier. "He is. I was thinking about inviting him and Miles over. Uh…once I figure out my whole housing situation."

"Juno…"

"No, I know," he said in a rush. He didn't want to talk about this now, but he figured it couldn't hurt to give Piper some peace of mind. "I'm probably gonna say yes to moving in as long as you don't want to throw me into the Atlantic by the time we're done with this trip."

"Only to cool you off," Piper told him, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before tugging him along. "And I'd be right there with you."

"I can't believe you're not married to some fucking supermodel with those moves," Juno told him.

Piper just laughed and kept his hand as they made their way up the trail. There were more people on the trail now, the closer they got, and Juno started to get anxious.

"How much further?"

"It's right up there. I can hear the water," Piper said.

Now that he mentioned it, Juno could too. It wasn't the rush of a huge falls, but it wasn't a gentle trickle either. The air was wetter there—not quite humid. It was almost misty in a way. It was a moment he understood why people in the past believed in the fae. The place felt a little surreal, like they were stepping into another world.

They made their way down the trail, and then finally, Piper squeezed his hand. There was a small crowd near a collection of tall rocks with water flowing down. And then Juno's heart squeezed because he could hear what they were saying.

"…went out last night."

"That guy over there has petroleum. He's going to light it."

"Yeah, it was out last time I was here too."

His heart felt like he was crawling out of his stomach. You don't even believe in that bullshit , he told himself, but maybe it was a sign. He blinked, looking for changes in his vision, but it remained steadfastly the same.

"It's okay," Piper told him, pulling Juno's back against his front. He leaned down to speak right against his ear. "It goes out sometimes. But the reason it burns hasn't changed."

"How did they start it before they had lighters?" Juno asked. He still felt a little off-kilter, but he was safe in Piper's arms.

"That's a good question. I was never much of a historian, but I bet my brother would know."

"Did you ever take him here?"

Piper laughed. "No. He's not much for hiking, but he likes to read about ancient geography and geology and things like that when he gets bored."

"Oh God, he's going to think I'm stupid," Juno moaned.

"He won't. He's not a big fan of that word. He finds it meaningless, and I agree with him."

Juno scoffed and tilted his head back to look up at Piper. From that position, he could see all of him—with both eyes. His heart swooped in his chest. He couldn't stare at him like this for long, but maybe he could keep this. "How is it meaningless?"

"Because no one is stupid. It's a word meant to insult someone's intelligence, and that implies that their worth is only in how smart they are. And that's a fallacy because everyone is smarter than everyone else in their own ways. I might know more about space than you, and Phoenix might have an encyclopedia of knowledge about how rocks are formed, but neither one of us will ever be experts on the things you are."

"Trauma?"

"You're so much more than that, and you know it," Piper said.

Juno knew his answer hadn't been fair. He knew perfectly well he had strengths other people didn't. He was just feeling low. And maybe a little afraid. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Piper said and held him a little tighter. Then his breath caught. "It's going. The flame is going."

Juno slowly pulled away, taking several steps forward until he could see it. It was such a small thing. Underwhelming in so many ways, and yet, he felt warm inside. Thousands of people, if not more, flocked to see the exact spot. So many people thought it was important.

That it was worth something.

Why couldn't he be important to someone too?

Piper touched him on the waist, then wrapped an arm around him as they watched it burn behind the water. There were people around them, but for the moment, Juno was only aware of their heartbeats. No one else existed.

"Thank you for this," he murmured.

He could take this moment back with him. Not just the sight of the flickering fire in the small grotto but of everything else that it meant. He twisted his fingers with Piper's and held tight.

"I really like you. I want to be yours."

"Then you are," Piper said, like it was as simple as that.

"And you?—"

"It was decided a while ago," Piper interrupted, almost like he didn't want Juno to ask. "Even if this ends, you have my heart."

Juno didn't believe him. That was the bullshit kind of love in books and on TV. People could feel like that in the moment, and two months later, they could forget the color of their ex's eyes and the sound of their voice. They'd move on. They'd love again. This wasn't unique to either of them.

And yet, Juno let himself hold those words. Maybe they weren't true, but for now, they could be his reality.

The trek back to the car was quieter. Juno expected to feel like something big had changed between them, but things just felt more settled. Piper did what he always did—he checked back on him when he got too far ahead. He smiled at the sight of him. He stole kisses like he couldn't help it. He touched Juno like they were young and just learning to hold hands for the first time.

And Juno was profoundly aware that a lot of these were firsts for Piper. He'd been in the closet for most of his life, and he was just now living as himself. Juno had been out, but they were firsts for him, too, because before this, he'd never let himself exist without his armor.

It was still a little terrifying when he thought about how much power that gave Piper to hurt him, but Juno also knew he'd survive it because that's what he did. He was a survivor. Just like Oliver. Just like Miles.

They'd been through enough to give their hearts a nice, hard candy shell. It was breakable, but it was powerful. It was why Juno understood the reasons Miles hadn't called him when his ex had thrown him out—hurt as he was by it.

And it was why he knew Miles would simmer in disappointment when Juno finally admitted to keeping this big secret. But ultimately, it wouldn't matter. Miles knew Juno would get through it—whether he had help or not.

"I have an idea," Piper said as he unlocked the car.

Juno glanced over at him. "Shoot."

"A picnic date for dinner."

Juno's brows furrowed. "Not to be a stick in the mud, but I've already gotten like four mosquito bites here in the parking lot. I'm not feeling super enthused to offer myself up as a whole-ass buffet."

Piper laughed as the pair of them climbed in. The world felt a little funny, spinning gently as his body adjusted to sitting still, and Juno closed his eyes against it. "I didn't mean outside. We can lay a blanket out in the living room and get takeout. That way, we can focus on other things besides cooking and cleaning."

Other things. Juno knew exactly what that meant. He suppressed a small shudder of want and swallowed heavily. "Yeah. Yes."

"Yeah?"

Juno looked over at him and held his gaze. "Absolutely."

Piper found a little mom-and-pop place that had amazing reviews for their southern fare, and he placed an order for their family dinner before heading back to the rental. There were a few hours before they'd need to pick it up, and Juno was looking forward to taking a shower and scrubbing all the sweat off him.

The mood in the car was tense, but in the best way, and when they pulled into the driveway, Piper reached for his hand, and sparks shot up Juno's spine.

"I want to make you come," Piper said.

Juno coughed. He wasn't used to people being so forward with him, and he liked it, but it was going to take some adjusting. Most people played games—they teased, which he didn't hate, but it left him guessing what they wanted, and half the time, he got it wrong.

With Piper, he always knew.

"Is that okay?" Piper asked. "I know you said you wanted to wait, but I'd like to touch you. To make you feel good."

"Yeah." The word came out ragged, and Juno swallowed, then cleared his throat. "Yes. But I really need a shower first. I don't want to think about how bad I smell to you right now."

"I like it, but a shower sounds nice too." Piper opened his door and climbed out, walking around to meet Juno halfway. They held hands as they walked inside, Piper dropping the bag near the couch.

A minute stretched out into two. Neither of them seemed to want to break the silence. Then Piper tugged on his hand, and Juno closed the distance between them. Tilting his head up, Juno basked in the warmth when Piper cradled his face. They didn't kiss. They didn't speak.

They shared air. They shared silence.

Juno wasn't sure he could handle Piper's intensity, but he also didn't ever want to live without it. He just wasn't ready to say that. Not aloud. Not when it would give Piper even more power over him. God, if only the man knew just how wrapped around his finger Juno was.

He was utterly and completely screwed.

Piper dragged his thumb under Juno's left eye. "I like your freckles."

Juno let out a small laugh. "I forget I have them. They go away in the winter."

Piper leaned in and brushed his lips over Juno's sun-pinked skin. He was a little tender, though he knew the feeling would be gone by morning. "Can I spoil you right now?"

"Why?" Juno hadn't meant to ask it, but now that he had, he didn't take it back.

Piper didn't seem bothered. He moved his hands to Juno's waist and held him. "I like it. I've never felt like this before. I don't have a thing for taking care of people. But there's something about you that's making me crave it."

"Pity," Juno said, slightly bitter. "I mean, I don't blame you. I've had a pretty pathetic life, and it seems to be getting worse."

"It's not pity, sugar. I promise you that. I feel sorry for the things you've had to endure and that things might be more difficult for you in the future. But that's not it."

"So what?"

Piper shrugged. "I wish I knew. All I know is that I look at you and I want to make you smile every day."

"Smile?" Juno asked, waggling his brows. This was getting too emotional, and he needed to shift the moment.

Piper's face showed he noticed, but he went along with it anyway. "Amongst other things." He dipped his head in and licked at Juno's lower lip. "Let me make you come."

Well. Juno wasn't going to say no to that.