Copper and Salt, page 12
“I take it back, maybe you would! Dig in for me.”
Alex chose a muffin at random and peeled the paper off, his long fingers quick and delicate. “You must eat too,” he said, indicating the tray.
Oren picked up a piece of sausage and winked at him, making Alex laugh again, soft and charmed.
“You got that fever down, Mr. Costea,” Bethany said as she removed the blood pressure cuff. “That’s very good! Means you’ll be able to leave today, as long as you promise to take care of yourself. No running on that ankle—in fact, no strenuous activity at all for the next few weeks. Take things slow and easy and don’t push yourself too hard.” She glanced at Oren. “You make sure of that.”
“I will,” Oren said quietly.
“Do you have somewhere to go?” Bethany asked. “It’s not hospital policy to ask, but I’m worried about you two. Something weird’s going on, that much is obvious.”
Alex hunched his shoulders but Oren just smiled at her.
“We have somewhere to go, don’t worry. We’ll be fine, I promise.”
They were out of the hospital by noon, blinking in the winter sunlight, Alex balancing on the crutches Bethany had given him.
Oren shoved his hands in his pockets, considering their options. “We can hitchhike to Cheyenne, but I think a bus is going to be our best bet. It’ll take a little longer but we’ll attract less attention.”
Alex nodded silently and followed Oren down the block away from the hospital. Thankfully, the bus station wasn’t far, just a few blocks over, but Oren was watching Alex uneasily by the time they got there. He was white, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced again, and he swayed as Oren pulled the door open for him.
“Easy,” Oren said, alarmed, and pointed at the hard plastic rows of seats. “You, sit. I’m going to buy our tickets. I’ll be right there the whole time, okay?” He indicated the ticket counter, just a few yards away, and Alex nodded again, sprawling in one of the seats and dropping his crutches on the empty chairs beside him.
Oren bought their tickets and was relieved to hear that another bus was leaving within fifteen minutes and they’d just made it in time. He hurried back to Alex, who was sitting with his elbows braced on his knees, his head hanging.
“Hey,” Oren said, scooting the crutches out of the way and sitting down beside him. “How are you feeling, donkey?”
Alex’s mouth curved a fraction and he leaned against Oren’s shoulder. “Am alright. Just tired.”
“Bus is leaving in fifteen minutes,” Oren told him, rubbing his back. “You can rest once we’re on it, maybe nap.”
“Bine,” Alex murmured.
They waited in silence until their bus was announced and then made their way aboard, Oren shepherding Alex ahead of him up the broad steps and down the aisle.
Alex chose seats at the very back and Oren stowed his crutches in the overhead compartment before sitting down next to him. The bus was almost empty, just a few other passengers closer to the driver, and they had the back to themselves.
Oren rubbed Alex’s thigh and Alex tilted toward him again, putting his head down on Oren’s shoulder.
“Where will we go?” he asked in a small voice.
“Once we get to Cheyenne?” Oren said. “Well, I’ve got a safe deposit box at a bank across town. It’s got enough cash to keep us afloat until we’re ready to tackle this properly, so I’ll use it to get us clothes and food and toiletries and a motel room. The main thing that’s holding us up is the marriage. We have to find someone willing to marry us, no questions asked, and that may take a day or three.”
Alex lifted his head. “Mihai—”
“I know,” Oren said. The bus rumbled out of the terminal in a cloud of smelly black smoke as he pulled Alex closer. “I’m doing everything as quickly as I can, but this has to be done first.”
Alex sighed and put his head down again. “Thank you,” he whispered, almost inaudible above the bus’s engine.
“For you?” Oren said, keeping his voice light. “Any time, pal.”
The trip took an hour and Alex slept almost the entire way, rousing as they hit the Cheyenne city limits and slowed down for a stoplight.
At the bus terminal, Oren found a bank of ancient payphones and called a taxi while Alex waited. When it arrived, he helped Alex into the warm, tobacco-scented interior and put his crutches in the trunk. Then he slid into the car himself, taking Alex’s hand and leaning forward to address the driver.
“Wyoming Bank & Trust on Yellowstone Road, please.” He sat back and squeezed Alex’s hand as the taxi pulled away from the curb.
Oren paid the driver with the last of his cash. “This won’t take long, you can keep the meter running,” he said, and helped Alex out onto the pavement in front of the bank. Alex looked small and fragile in the pale green scrubs Bethany had given him, and he swallowed hard as Oren opened the door for him.
Inside, a friendly woman at the nearest desk greeted them and Oren pulled out his wallet, handing her a copy of his fake ID.
“I’d like to get into my deposit box,” he told her with a warm smile.
“Of course, Mr. Alonzo,” she said. “If you’ll just follow me.” At the vault, she pointed to a chair. “Your friend can wait there, if he likes.”
Oren put his hand on Alex’s shoulder and Alex looked at him, his eyes wide and worried. “I’ll be right inside this room,” Oren said, pointing. “Can you stay here? It won’t take me a minute.”
Alex swallowed again but nodded, sinking down to perch on the edge of the chair as Oren went inside the vault.
It took him less than a minute to clear out the contents and drop it all into the bag that was already in the box. When he came out, Alex was visibly tense, obviously pushed close to his mental limits.
“Come on,” Oren said, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get you horizontal.”
It was a testament to how exhausted Alex was that he didn’t ask for clarification. He just stumbled out the door after Oren and back into the waiting taxi.
“Nearest decent motel,” Oren told the driver.
They were pulling into a motel parking lot within five minutes and Oren gave the driver a hefty tip before bundling Alex out.
“Just a little further,” he said, slipping an arm around his waist to steady him. “Do you want me to carry you?”
Alex shook his head, his eyes heavy, and Oren smiled at him, affection blooming warm in his chest.
“Donkey,” he said, and Alex’s lips twitched.
Safely in the motel room, Oren pointed Alex at the bed. “You. Sleep.”
Alex balked. “But you—”
“I’ll be right here,” Oren said. “I won’t leave without telling you. I will need to go get clothes and food for us at some point though, so would you rather I do that while you’re asleep or awake?”
Alex’s throat worked and Oren gave him a gentle push toward the bed.
“I—I do not—cannot I come with you?” Alex asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and dropping his crutches.
Oren stepped between his knees, cradling his face in both hands as Alex tipped his head back to look up at him. “I wish you could, sweetheart, but it would attract too much attention. We’re keeping this low profile, remember?”
Alex’s lashes swept down and he leaned forward, pressing his cheek against Oren’s stomach. Oren curled a hand around the nape of his neck, scraping his nails lightly against Alex’s scalp.
“Can you do this?” he asked quietly.
Alex nodded against Oren’s scrubs. “While I sleep,” he said. “But will you… wait?”
“Until you’re actually asleep?” Oren bent and took a quick kiss, soft like butterfly dust. “Yeah, baby, I’ll wait. Get yourself comfortable.”
Alex obeyed, crawling under the covers and pulling his knees to his chest. Oren sat down next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re safe,” he said quietly. “Keep the door locked and don’t open it for anyone, not even the maid. I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“Te iubesc,” Alex whispered, his eyes closed.
“One of these days you’re going to tell me what that means,” Oren said.
Alex smiled and tucked a hand under his cheek. “Perhaps.”
Oren waited until Alex was asleep before he stood up, grabbed some cash from the bag, and tiptoed from the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind him.
He asked for directions from the desk manager and then walked briskly down the sidewalk in the direction of the nearest supermarket, where he got everything he thought he and Alex would need for the next several days.
An hour later, laden down with bags, he hurried back to the motel, careful not to slip on the wet pavement, the snow still melting. A sign caught his eye as he passed a small store and he hesitated and then ducked inside. Two minutes, he told himself. I’ll just ask, and if they don’t have it, I’ll go.
When he fumbled the motel door open and staggered through, Alex was sitting up in bed, his arms around his knees, watching for him.
Oren kicked the door shut, dropped the bags and locked the door before crossing the room and crawling onto the bed.
“Look at you,” he murmured, kissing Alex’s cheek. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”
Alex turned his head and caught Oren’s mouth, straightening his legs and drawing Oren down on top of him.
Oren hummed, pleased with this development, and deepened the kiss, licking inside Alex’s mouth as it opened for him.
They kissed for several long, leisurely moments, Alex’s hands running up and down Oren’s ribs and Oren bracing himself with an elbow on either side of Alex’s head, but finally Oren broke away with a regretful sigh and sat up.
“I got you some clothes,” he said. “Wanna see?”
Alex’s eyes were dazed, but he nodded, pushing himself to a sitting position and crossing his legs as Oren hopped off the bed to rummage in the bags.
He pulled out a pair of soft jeans and held them up. “I had to guess at your inseam and waist, so try them on,” he said. “If they don’t fit, I’ll take them back and get a different pair.”
Next were several T-shirts, and then Oren lifted out a dark green sweater and tossed it over.
“I know it’s not quite the same, but you seemed to like the one of mine that you were wearing… before,” he said.
Alex felt the sleeve, his mouth working. “The color of Mihai’s eyes,” he whispered, looking up. “Mulțumesc, Oren.”
Oren smiled at him, feeling that damn butterfly in his chest spreading its wings yet again. “Oh, I got you something else, too.” He pulled out a copy of the book Alex had been reading and tossed it onto the bed next to him.
Alex picked it up, smoothing a hand across the cover. “Oren—”
“We’re going to be stuck here for a couple of days,” Oren said, sitting down on the bed beside him. “Figured you might like a way to pass the time.”
Alex dropped the book and reached for him, pulling him down again. Oren laughed breathlessly against his mouth and rolled them so that Alex was balanced on top of him.
“Much better,” he said, smiling up at him. “I’m a lot heavier than you—I don’t want to squash you.”
“You could not,” Alex said, crossing his arms on Oren’s chest and propping his chin on them. “I am much stronger than I look.”
“I believe it,” Oren said. He ran a gentle thumb along Alex’s cheekbone, exulting in the way Alex’s lashes fell and he leaned into Oren’s hand.
“I figure we’ll call in for dinner, and I’ll borrow the motel computer, do some digging for how to get married on short notice,” Oren said after a few minutes. He smiled ruefully. “Not exactly something I’ve got much experience on. You can come with me, if you want, since I’m not leaving the motel itself.”
“Yes please,” Alex said instantly.
“Well, those clothes aren’t going to try themselves on,” Oren said. “Get hopping!”
Alex looked at him for a long minute and Oren just grinned until Alex sighed and leaned in for a kiss before rolling off and sitting up.
“So strange,” he muttered, more to himself than to Oren.
The jeans fit, Oren was delighted to see, a little too big in the waist but long enough, and Alex stuck out his good foot and wiggled his toes where they protruded from the denim cuff.
“I like them,” he said, looking up with a wide smile.
Oren pushed the scrubs down and picked up his own pair of new pants, stepping into them and dragging them up over his hips. When he glanced up, Alex was watching him, eyes wide and dark, lips parted.
“What?” Oren said. “Is it my hair again?”
“I—no,” Alex said. “Your hair is fine.”
Oren narrowed his eyes but Alex just ducked his head and picked at a loose thread on his jeans, so Oren shrugged and pulled his scrubs top off. Bare from the waist up, he rooted through the bag until he found the shirt he wanted. When he straightened, Alex was watching him again, sneaking glances from under lowered lashes.
“Are you—are you checking me out?” Oren said.
“No!” Alex said, swiveling to put his back to Oren.
Oren swallowed delight and filed Alex’s reactions away to examine properly when he had more time. “Ready to go?”
Alex bent and picked up his crutches and swung himself toward the door, where he waited, his eyes on the carpet, as Oren stepped into his shoes and closed the distance between them.
“You know what occurs to me,” Oren said before he opened the door. “I don’t think you and I have ever kissed standing up. We should remedy that.”
Alex looked up and Oren tilted his head invitingly, taking a step forward, then another, until their bodies were flush together and Oren could slip his arms around Alex’s narrow waist.
“What are you waiting for?” he murmured.
Alex’s eyes darkened and he lowered his head until their mouths met, sliding together warm and easy, like coming home or camping under Oren’s favorite tree on summer nights, the stars wheeling above him in the endless skies and the breeze on his face.
When Alex lifted his head, Oren clung to him, disoriented.
“Goddamn, you’re good at that,” he managed after a minute.
“Only when I have good partner,” Alex said, smiling at him.
Oren grinned back and reached for the door. “Let’s go find ourselves a preacher.”
12
It turned out that finding a preacher wasn’t necessary. The county clerk would issue them a marriage license and marry them on the spot, no questions asked. The problem was going to be the legal documents required.
Oren turned to Alex, reading the page over his shoulder. “I don’t suppose you have a passport.”
Alex snorted.
“That’s what I thought.” Oren sighed and turned back to the screen. “Okay.” He pulled up his email, which he checked about once a month, and composed a message.
While he waited for a reply, he looked at Alex, settled in the chair next to him, his long hands in his lap. Oren felt the by-now very familiar urge to smooth away the little furrow in Alex’s brow, kiss a smile onto his lips and chase away the shadows, but Alex straightened.
“You have email,” he said.
Oren glanced at the screen. “That was fast.” He read the message and glanced at the time before hitting Reply. ASAP, he sent.
Less than a minute later, another message appeared. Be here in an hour.
Oren rubbed his hands together and closed the browser. “Hungry? We’ve got an hour to kill. I feel like pizza.”
“You do not look like pizza,” Alex said in tones of utter reason, and Oren nearly fell off his chair.
“Did you just—did you just make a bad joke at me?”
Alex ducked his head, a grin spreading across his mouth.
“Oh my God, I’m contagious,” Oren said, laughing helplessly. “I’ve corrupted you.”
They ordered a pizza and ate in the room, knees touching as they sat on the bed side by side. When it was time to go, Oren called for a taxi and they went down to the front to wait for it.
The cab dropped them off in front of a large apartment complex, water-stained brick with ivy desperately clinging to it where it hadn’t been frozen off completely and weeds in the parking lot.
Alex looked uncertain but followed Oren inside the building and into the elevator for the seventh floor.
“Whatever happens, just roll with it,” Oren said as the doors slid open and they stepped out into the dusty hall.
Alex’s brow furrowed. “Roll… what?”
“Just… follow my lead,” Oren said, and knocked on a door.
There was a loud thumping, a sudden yelp, and then quick footsteps pattering toward them before the door swung open and a pixie in a tank top scowled up at them.
“You’re late,” she snapped, flicking multicolored dreads over one shoulder.
“No, we’re not,” Oren said reasonably. “You’re just saying that to make me defensive and try to throw me off my game.”
The girl studied him for a long minute and then grinned, bright flash of white in her dark face. “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said cheerfully. “Who’s the hottie?”
“This is Alex,” Oren said. “Alex, this is Anouk.”
Anouk held out a sleek hand and Alex took it. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “You are fine as fuck, anyone ever told you that?”
Alex slanted a look at Oren.
“I don’t even go for men, but holy damn, you are easy on the eyes,” Anouk said. “Are you single?”
Oren sighed and stepped between them as Alex started to look a little hunted. “Retract the claws, you know you’re not actually making a pass at him so just knock it off already, would you?”
Anouk shrugged and spun, her neon hair flying out in a bright nimbus around her head. “So you need papers, do you, Gorgeous?”
