Page 14 of The Wicker King

SPARK

They left the car at the lot and walked home.

August pulled out one of his last cigarettes. He checked his pockets for a lighter but came up empty.

Jack raised an eyebrow, then dug one out of his pocket. It wasn’t one of those plastic ones you could buy from a gas station. It was metal and heavy. Expensive.

Jack leaned in and lit the cigarette while August cupped his hands around it, protecting the flame from the wind.

“Thanks.” August took a long drag, then tipped his head back and blew the smoke up at the trees.

He looked over. Jack was watching him.

“Why do you even have that?” he asked.

Jack shrugged, then tossed it to him. “Keep it,” he said, turning away. “Try not to lose this one.”

THE RIVER

Jack owned him. In a way.

It was difficult to explain, but the feeling was as familiar to him as his own name.

When they were twelve, August had almost drowned. He’d slipped into the river while hunting for rocks and been pulled beneath the current without a sound.

He didn’t remember much about being underwater. It had happened too fast. What he could remember was Jack pulling him from the water and pushing the death from his lungs. He’d expected fear, maybe even tears. But Jack wasn’t scared. He was angry.

“You can’t just die so stupidly,” he’d hissed. “I need you. You’re mine.”

August had gazed up at him as he spit river water into the dirt. He had been terrified. Jack’s words echoed in his bones so deeply that it hurt.

August had been replaying that moment in his head over and over for years.

August had wanted to roll over for him. Wanted to bare his neck. Wanted to give himself up, so ferocious was his gratitude. As Jack’s fingers trailed through his hair and as he wrapped his Pokémon sweatshirt around August’s shoulders, something in August broke. Or changed. He wasn’t sure. But he’d known then that he was important. He was valuable. He was Jack’s.

Saving him was a debt August could never pay.

RUG BURN

“Ow. That fucking hurts, man!”

“Just a second; it will get better, I promise.”

“OW.”

“Or at least it will if you quit moving around so much.”

“Just … please. Fucking shit, Jack, JACK!”

“Shhh shhh. Just relax; it will go smoother if you’re relaxed.”

“Relax?! How can I relax if you’re … Ah! Fuck.”

“You’re doing really well, August. Just … let me.”

“No. NO. Stop. We’re stopping.”

“But I’m almost finished!”