The Parable of the Mustard Seed Page 10

  John’s gut clenched, hard.

  “We were supposed to go to a movie tonight,” Caleb said. He turned to face John, and shrugged. “That’s where Dad thinks I am, but I bailed.”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  Caleb’s forehead creased. “Because I don’t want him, John! He’s a nice guy, and he has anxiety, so like he’s cool with me when I’m like…like the way I am. But I don’t like him in that way.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line for a moment and then drew a deep breath. “And I’m not a kid. I know who I want, and if you don’t want me then that’s fine, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. You can’t talk me out of my feelings, John.”

  The blood roared in John’s skull.

  “I love you,” Caleb said, lifting his chin defiantly. “I love you, and I don’t want to try to love anyone else, even if you don’t love me in the same way.”

  For a moment John stood frozen on a precipice, Caleb with him, and he was too afraid to move in case he caused Caleb to stumble and fall. But the lie was hurting Caleb too, wasn’t it? The pretence that John loved him just as a friend. That hadn’t been true for a long time, and it wasn’t fair to pretend Caleb was the only one who felt it. It wasn’t fair for him to carry that alone. And every justification he’d ever made about why this was a bad idea crumbled like sand in the face of Caleb’s certainty. Because how could breaking Caleb’s heart now be better than maybe breaking it in the future? A thousand worst case scenarios flashed through his mind, and always would, but the truth remained unchanged.

  “I love you too,” John said, and Caleb’s eyes filled with tears in anticipation of being let down yet again, and John burned with guilt. “And you are so brave in telling me that, and I’m so scared of hurting you, but I can’t lie to you anymore either. I love you, Caleb, the same way that you love me.”

  Caleb’s indrawn breath was as sharp as a blade cutting through the air. “Do you mean it?”

  “Yes.” John wasn’t sure if the admission was a relief, or a regret. “I mean it.”

  And then Caleb was moving toward him, his eyes shining with unshed tears, and John opened his arms to meet him and they were kissing. And this time John didn’t push him away. Couldn’t have, if his life had depended on it, because all his walls had tumbled down and he was holding the man he loved in his arms. And even if this led them somewhere that John would later regret, he wasn’t sure he could ever regret this kiss. And he was stupid and selfish and reckless and unworthy, but he was kissing Caleb all the same.

  Caleb’s mouth was soft, the pressure barely-there. He drew back, his breath hot on John’s lips. “John,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to do this properly.” But before John had a chance to pull back too, Caleb was gripping his shoulders. “Show me, please.”

  John closed his eyes for a moment and curled his hand around the back of Caleb’s neck. He leaned back a little so that their gazes could meet. He didn’t have the words for this, so he raised his free hand and ran his thumb along Caleb’s bottom lip. He liked the drag of it. Liked the way that Caleb’s eyes widened and he shivered, his fingers digging into John’s shoulders.

  “Like this,” John said, half afraid his voice would crack, and kissed him again. He sucked Caleb’s bottom lip for a moment, and then released it so that he could slide his tongue along the loose seam of his lips. Caleb’s mouth opened under his, and John felt a jolt of want run through him when their tongues touched. John almost smiled at the sugar-sweet taste of Caleb’s mouth; he’d been eating red frogs again. John chased the taste with his tongue, slipping it over Caleb’s teeth and against the roof of his mouth before he withdrew again, and sucked for a moment on Caleb’s lower lip.

  Caleb made a small, surprised noise. He released one hand from John’s shoulder and slid it through his hair instead. John could feel Caleb’s fingers trembling against the scalp.

  John deepened the kiss, this time darting his tongue against Caleb’s, and then pulling back to coax Caleb’s tongue to follow. Caleb pressed closer to him.

  “John.” Those fingers digging in. “Please.”

  John tilted Caleb’s head back so he could meet his gaze. “What do you need?”

  Caleb’s eyes were wide, his breath choppy. He pushed himself against John, and John felt his erection pressing into him. “Please.”

  “Okay,” John said. He held a hand against Caleb’s cheek, and Caleb leaned into it like a cat. “Okay. Take a breath for me.”

  Caleb nodded, and sucked in a breath.

  “I know…” John swallowed. “I know there are things that will be hard for you to ask for, but I’m going to need you to try, okay? You’re in charge here, so you have to tell me what you want, and what you’re ready for.”

  “John, I…” Caleb’s voice cracked, and a flush rose on his face. “I want…I want to come.”

  “Okay,” John said. “How do you want to do that?”

  Caleb squeezed his eyes shut, and John’s heart broke a little. They’d beaten shame into him, and fear, and John wanted nothing more than to strip Caleb’s clothes off him and teach him how to love his body, how good it could feel. But he couldn’t push. He couldn’t.

  Caleb squirmed, eyes still shut tight. “Y-your hand?”

  John pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You want me to bring you off with my hand?”

  “Y-yeah.”

  “I want to do that too,” John said, and Caleb’s eyes flashed open. “Come and sit on the couch with me.”

  He took Caleb’s hand and led him to the couch. Sat down, and pulled Caleb onto him so that Caleb was straddling his thighs, his knees digging into the cushions. They kissed again, reigniting the heat between them, and John slipped his hands to the fly of Caleb’s jeans and popped the button. The rasp of the zip was the loudest sound in the world apart from Caleb’s ragged breathing.

  “You’re so beautiful,” John told him, and Caleb huffed out a laugh.

  “No, you are.” Caleb’s trembling fingers tugged at the hem of John’s T-shirt. “Can you take this off? Can I see you?”

  “Anything you want.” John tugged his shirt off, Caleb helping to pull it over his head.

  “Holy shit.” Caleb trailed his fingers across John’s chest, his skin pale against John’s, his face bright red. “I mean, I’ve seen you at the beach and stuff, so I knew, but now I get to touch you.” His fingers moved to John’s arm and followed the path of his tattoo all the way up to his shoulder and throat.

  “Do I get to touch you too?” John asked.

  Caleb bit his bottom lip and nodded, his eyes wide.

  “Can I touch your dick?” John asked, his heart thumping wildly even though he managed by some miracle to keep his tone even.

  “Fuck. Yes, please.”

  John grinned and licked his palm, and Caleb’s hips jerked forward without even being touched. Then John peeled Caleb’s jeans open and cupped his palm over the erection straining against Caleb’s underwear. Caleb’s moan was like music.

  “Please, John. Please do something. Please touch me.”

  John ran his fingertips under the elastic band of Caleb’s underwear, watching the muscles in Caleb’s abdomen dance at the touch. Then he slipped his hand inside, and closed his fingers around Caleb’s hot, hard dick.

  He’d never even allowed himself to imagine this before, not in his waking hours, and the reality was as short-lived as every fantasy John had shut down with prejudice. Caleb bucked and gasped and was coming before John had barely given him a full stroke, his cum wetting John’s fingers and staining his underwear.

  “So fucking beautiful, Caleb,” John said, his own dick aching. He pulled Caleb forward into a kiss, and slid his clean hand up and down his spine.

  “Sorry,” Caleb mumbled, and hid his face against John’s neck.

  “What are you sorry for? You’re beautiful, and that was hot as hell.”

  “I know you’re lying,” Caleb whispered. “That was like ten seconds. I know you’ve been w
ith guys before who—”

  “I’ve never been with anyone before who compares with you,” John said. He waited until Caleb straightened up again. Waited until Caleb lifted his gaze to meet John’s. “Because I never felt this way about any of them.”

  Caleb blinked, and a tear slid down his cheek. “Really?”

  “Really,” John said. “I love you, remember?”

  “I love you too,” Caleb whispered back, and dived back into John’s embrace.

  It wasn’t the first time John had held him when he cried, but it felt like the start of something new. And right now, right here, with Caleb in his arms, it was easy to pretend that nothing else mattered. Not his job, and the dubious ethics of getting into a relationship with a guy whose case he’d once investigated, not Darren and the fact that he trusted John with Caleb, and not even Caleb himself, and the way that this could all go horribly wrong. Just for now, John was going to believe that he was making the right decision.

  Chapter Nine

  John showed Caleb and Darren into the interview room where Brian was setting up the camera.

  “You need a drink or anything?” John asked.

  Darren shook his head.

  “How about you, Caleb?”

  Caleb’s gaze darted from John to his dad and then back again, seeking permission, or possibly searching for the trap in the question. He opened his mouth and then closed it.

  “I’m going to get a Coke,” John said. “You want one too?”

  Caleb nodded warily.

  He looked different. New haircut, new clothes, but his dark eyes still held the same haunted expression they had since John had hauled him out of that tank. He still hunched over when he sat, as though he was protecting himself from invisible blows.

  John went and got two cans of Coke from the machine in the lunchroom. When he returned to the interview room, Brian had everyone seated and ready to go. But at the mention of Simon, Caleb shut down.

  “Hey,” John said, and slid a sticker across the table. “Do you know what this is?”

  It was a pink triangle. Underneath it, the words SAFE PLACE were printed. Brian and John had already heard from Naomi the form that Caleb’s sin had taken.

  Caleb shook his head.

  “This means that this police station is a safe place for kids like you,” John said. “Kids who are gay, or who think they might be gay, or who are still trying to figure it all out.”

  Caleb lifted his gaze to John’s, and then dropped it again. He folded in on himself, as though he was trying to disappear into the narrow space between his shoulders.

  Brian leaned forward. “Caleb, nobody in this room is going to punish you for who you are. I’ve got three daughters at home, and I love them to bits, and nothing will ever change that. And I’ll bet your dad feels the same way about you too.”

  Caleb darted a wary glance at Darren.

  “It’s true.” Darren’s voice cracked.

  Caleb snaked out a hand and took the sticker. Pulled it back across the table and into his lap, where he stared at it for a long while in silence. And then he said, at last, “It’s my fault. I kissed him.” His voice cracked and broke. “I kissed Simon, and Brother Leon saw.”

  “You’re looking chipper, Senior Constable Faimu,” Liz said when John arrived for work on Monday morning.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” John asked. “We’re living the dream, Acting Senior Sergeant Grant, living the dream.”

  “Harry threw up in my cereal this morning,” Liz said. “If this is the dream, I want my money back.”

  “You should write a strongly worded letter to whoever is in charge,” John suggested. “Meanwhile, what’s on the docket for today?”

  “Oh, you’ll be sorry you asked, dream boy.” Liz punched him in the shoulder. “Three drug overdoses last night, possibly related. No fatalities, but one kid’s still critical and it’s made the front page of the Courier Mail, so the bosses are pressuring us for a result.”

  “Isn’t it drug squad’s problem?” John asked, but the question was rhetorical, because since when would drug squad not try to duck-shove this onto someone else?

  “It’s our problem now,” Liz said. “Let’s get a coffee, and go talk to some kids who should have made better life choices.”

  Still, John couldn’t help smiling as he followed her back down the stairs to the car park. The job was shit, and parts of it would always be shit, but there was nothing that could take the shine off this Monday morning.

  By Monday afternoon, the shine had definitely dulled, but John’s spirits picked up again as he headed down the motorway. Peak hour traffic was as shit as always, but the promise of sharing a meal with Caleb and Darren cheered him up. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, nodding his head along to the song on the radio.

  He was at the house by six, pulling up out the front and being met at the gate by an ecstatic Cricket.

  “Hey,” Caleb called from the top of the front steps. He flashed John a shy smile. “How was work?”

  “About the same as always,” John said, climbing the steps. “Is your dad home?”

  “Not yet.” Caleb grabbed John by the shirt collar and brushed their mouths together softly. It was sweet and chaste, and nothing like they’d done on Saturday night. “If he was here, I wouldn’t be doing that.”

  John smiled at that, but unease rose in him. Darren was his friend, and this…this was a breach of trust. Not of Caleb’s trust, but certainly of Darren’s. John and Darren were a team when it came to Caleb, and John was scared he’d destroyed that. He didn’t want to keep any secrets from Darren, not over something as big as this.

  “So, we need to talk,” he said as he followed Caleb inside.

  Caleb turned, his expression suddenly wary.

  “It’s nothing bad,” John said. “At least I hope it isn’t. I think that we need to tell your dad that we’re together.”

  He saw the indecision cross Caleb’s face.

  “Secrets aren’t good,” John said. “Not for any of us.”

  “I know.” Caleb furrowed his brow. “But what other guy my age has to tell his dad when he gets a boyfriend?”

  “What we have,” John said slowly, “the three of us, is a system that pretty much works, yeah? When something big happens in your life, or when something changes, you tell your dad, and you tell me, and we figure out how to navigate it together. That’s the way we’ve always done it, and it’s kept you with us, Caleb.”

  “Except what’s changed?” Caleb asked, lifting his chin in a challenge. “My feelings haven’t. Yours haven’t. What’s changed?”

  “Don’t be smart. You know exactly what’s changed.”

  Caleb sighed, and showed John his palms. “Look, we’ll tell him, okay? But maybe not right away. Maybe, just this one time, I want to try to figure something out on my own. You and me, this is new, and shouldn’t I get to enjoy that before I’ve got Dad and Dr. Harper sticking their noses in it? I want to have a boyfriend, John, not an intervention about it!” His mouth quirked, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Just for a little while. I just…it gets really exhausting not just having to manage my emotional responses to shit, but to worry about Dad’s too. Can’t it just be about us first?”

  “I get that,” John said, his chest aching at the plaintive note in Caleb’s voice. “I do.”

  “I’m doing better recently,” Caleb said. “I’m doing so much better.”

  “I know that too.” John pulled him into an embrace and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

  “I think the new meds are working,” Caleb said. He traced his fingers up John’s spine. “I’m sleeping better.”

  “Good.” John’s breath ruffled his hair.

  They’d been here before, plenty of times. The new meds would work right up until they didn’t, John guessed. Right up until Caleb’s trauma and PTSD found a workaround, like they always fucking did. Or maybe that was John’s pessimism ta
lking. Maybe this time Caleb could actually take a step forward without taking two back again. John wasn’t his psychiatrist, but Dr. Harper had said plenty of times that these were early days yet. It just didn’t feel like it, when Caleb and everyone around him had felt the weight of every minute for the past eight years since he’d been found. But John supposed that eight years wasn’t that long at all compared with the decade of abuse that had come before it and had culminated in Simon’s brutal death. At least Caleb was in a place now where he could talk about his own recovery, setbacks and all. He hadn’t been able to do that for a long time.

  Caleb leaned back slightly and lifted his head. He held John’s gaze. “We’ll tell him,” he said. “We will. But he’s got this expo in Melbourne coming up, and I know he’s going to ask you to stay over with me if you can, and John—” Caleb bit his lip and flushed. “Don’t let my dad cockblock me now, please!”

  Visions of sleeping with Caleb in his bed and all that might entail flooded John’s mind, and he felt heat rising in his face. “That’s fucking unfair, you brat.”

  Caleb laughed. “I’m a brat now? I like it.”

  “Lucky I like it too.” John rubbed his thumb along Caleb’s jaw line. “But were not necessarily having sex while your dad is in Melbourne. We’re also not necessarily not having sex.” He wrinkled his nose at Caleb’s dubious expression. “We’re not on a timeline, is what I mean, and we’ve got a couple of really big discussions in our future first, okay?”

  Caleb bit his lower lip. “You do like the way I look, right, John?”

  “Caleb.” John hooked a finger under Caleb’s chin and lifted his face. “This is not about a lack of attraction, trust me. You’re hot, and you’re smart and you’re funny. Fuck, mate, I could get hard just thinking about you.”

  This time Caleb’s flush was paired with a shy smile.

  “But we’re not rushing into anything, remember?”