Valor on the Move

With a shaky exhale, Rafa lifted Shane’s hand and kissed his palm. His lips were dry against Shane’s skin, and his breath hot. “I know you would. God, Shane. I was sure you were dead,” he whispered. “I know we can’t do this. But…” He reached up, hands grasping in the dark, and pulled Shane’s head down. When their lips met, they kissed softly.

When Shane sat up again to lean against the rock wall, he sighed in the darkness. His ass was numb and his head throbbed where the bullet had grazed him. But Rafa was safe and alive and warm beneath his touch, and that was all that mattered. Because there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about anything outside the cave for the time being. Still, he wanted to know. “What happened yesterday? Why did you want to run away?”

Rafa muttered, “I found out I’m an idiot. So dumb.”

“That’s not true, but tell me why.”

Rafa was silent for a few moments before pushing himself up. Feeling his way in the dark, he sat next to Shane against the wall. He put his hand on Shane’s thigh, almost like he was holding on before he started talking. Shane wrapped his arm around Rafa’s shoulders, and Rafa fit against him so perfectly. Like he belonged there.

“They know I’m gay. My family. Well, apparently Matthew didn’t really, but he’s never been the most observant. But Chris, and Adriana, and…” He exhaled loudly. “My parents. My mother and father know. They’ve apparently suspected for years. My mom said…”

When the seconds ticked by, Shane caressed Rafa’s shoulder and prompted, “What?”

His voice was so small in the darkness. “She said she thought we were on the same page. That I’d keep on hiding. Being with Ash in public. That I’d keep being gay ‘private.’ Forever, I guess. So they didn’t think we even needed to talk about it. It was like…like it’s something I can just keep in a box, and it has nothing to do with my life. Like it’s not who I am.”

Fucking goddamn it. Shane’s nostrils flared as he forced down the surge of fury and stayed calm. He rubbed Rafa’s arm gently. “I’m sorry.”

“And I realized—remember that bill a few years ago, about ‘constitutional marriage’? My dad supported it. They waited until he’d gotten reelected, and I guess they figured they had nothing to lose. They trotted us all out for the announcement. It was a few days before Thanksgiving. I was so caught up in my first semester at school that I hadn’t even been paying attention to what was happening in Washington. So there I was, with lights and cameras and so many people, and I had to smile while Dad talked about taking away civil rights from gay people.”

As Rafa took a shuddering breath, Shane rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. He didn’t know what else to say other that Ramon Castillo was a selfish, close-minded bastard.

“I’d been building up to it. Coming out, I mean. I was finally in college, and he was reelected, and I was getting my nerve up to do it. But after that night, I just…I wanted to disappear. Vanish into thin air. That’s when Ash and I came up with our plan. And I told myself he didn’t know. My father didn’t know he was talking about me. That I was one of those people. I told myself he would never have backed the bill if he’d known.” He whispered, “But he did, Shane. Even if it wasn’t for sure, deep down he knew.”

He kissed Rafa’s temple. “I’m glad you didn’t disappear.”

“But I did. I haven’t really been me. Not until this summer. Until I started cooking for you. When I’m with you, I don’t have to hide.”

“I like watching you cook.”

“Yeah?” His voice had a hopeful lilt that grabbed at Shane’s heart.

“Yep. Food tastes amazing too. You’re going to be an excellent chef.”

“I hope so. I just wish my parents understood it.”

“Maybe after this, they’ll try harder.”

“Maybe.” He leaned his head on Shane’s shoulder. “I know they love me,” he murmured. “They do. But it’s been so hard pretending to be someone else.”

“I know.” Shane stroked his curls.

After an easy silence, Rafa said, “You said your parents were good about it from the start?”

The familiar wave of guilt and sorrow washed through him. “Yes. I was very lucky. They were surprised at first, but not for long.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen. They just listened and nodded, and my mom cried a bit. She said it was because she didn’t want my life to be hard. But then she said everyone’s life was hard, and it was nothing to cry about it.” He smiled at the memory. “She did that a lot. She’d have these conversations or arguments with herself. Me and my dad would just listen and wait to see which side won. The next day, he drove me to Brooks Street to surf and have a slushee.”