Rafael
As soon as he arrived home, Rafael threw himself into cleaning the place, vacuuming, dusting, organizing. Picking up things and putting them in the right location. It soothed him as he set aside the craziness of the morning. Unfortunately, the moment he finished, Dustin’s face popped into his head.
He pulled off his dirty T-shirt and tossed it into the laundry before taking a shower. He’d been looking forward to spending the day with Dustin, but after his verbal eruption in the truck, he’d been having second thoughts. Dustin had seemed horrified at the idea of doing anything sexual with him. He’d always known the man wasn’t interested in him in that way, but Dustin’s reaction had been like a cold slap to his ego.
The shower felt good, the water hitting his body in all the right places. He braced his hands on the tile wall and let the water cascade down his back. The morning’s events played through his head. God, he’d practically admitted his feelings to Dustin right there in the truck. His only excuse was that he’d been high on hope when he’d awoken to find Dustin’s head on his chest. Fuck, that had felt good. More than good. It had felt right. Like that’s how he should be waking up every morning.
But Dustin had made it abundantly clear the feelings were one-sided. That had nearly broken him. He needed to get his shit together and go out and get laid. Wipe Dustin from his thoughts. All this time he’d thought he had a good handle on things, but the morning had proved him wrong.
He knew he would have to work doubly hard to keep his feelings under wraps and just be Dustin’s best friend. Everything that had happened earlier was fixable—he hadn’t done something stupid, like kiss Dustin. He reminded himself, as he’d done so many times, being Dustin’s best friend was better than not being in his life at all.
Even knowing that, once he dressed, he still checked his reflection in the hall mirror. His favorite 501s, a burgundy Dr Pepper T-shirt, and his favorite old Nikes. He figured he needed to be comfortable, but he still wanted to look good.
Not that it mattered. He shook his head at his foolishness. Dustin didn’t care what he wore because Dustin didn’t look at him like that.
As he pulled out of his neighborhood, his phone rang and his mom’s number flashed across the screen on his dashboard. She was the last person he wanted to deal with, but he knew if he didn’t answer, she’d call every five minutes until he did. He sighed, bracing himself before he answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, Rafael, I’m in a terrible mess. I need your help.”
Her carefully mastered woe-is-me-voice was spot-on. “What’s the problem?”
Sniffles came through the speaker, but he knew from experience there were no real tears.
“Mom?”
“I tried calling your sister, but she won’t answer me. Can you believe that? Ignoring her mother in this time of need?”
Yes, he could. He was already wishing he hadn’t answered.
“I knew you would help. You’ve always been such a good son.”
Son. Schmuck. Enabler. It was all the same. So many times he wanted to cut ties with her, but he’d never been as strong as his sister.
“Mom?” he prodded, eager to find out what she needed this time. Probably liquor. Well, money for liquor.
“My check is late and my electricity is going to be turned off tomorrow. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Do you have your bill in front of you? If you send me a picture of it, with the account number, I’ll call in a payment. How much do you owe?” Asking was a waste of time. His stomach clenched as he waited for her answer.
“Oh, I don’t know. A lot. I don’t know where the bill is, honey. If you could just loan me some money, I can make the payment myself. I don’t want to bother you.”
And there it was. There was never a bill. Never a crisis. Jennifer Patino just wanted the money. Over the years he’d paid countless bills she could never actually produce.
“How much, Mom?” He was an idiot. This was a dance he’d done too many times. He needed to put an end to it. He’d watched enough Dr. Phil over the years to know he was doing this to make himself feel better, not her. But she was his mom. Yeah, she’d sucked at it from the moment she became one, but she was the only one he had.
“About five hundred will cover it all.”
“How many months behind are you?” Why he even asked was beyond him. He knew she was lying. She knew she was lying. He guessed he just wanted to see how far she’d go with it.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe three?”
He was being played like a fiddle. “I’ll transfer funds as soon as I pull over.”
Cue fake love.
“Oh, sweetie, I knew I could count on you. Thank you. I love you, Rafael.”
“Love you, too.” But she was already gone.
He pulled into the Walmart parking lot and parked long enough to transfer funds into her account. An easier method than running to her house at all hours to give her money. Especially since she lived half an hour away. He knew he needed to be stronger and stop indulging her, but for today, he pushed her out of his mind.
That done, he continued on his way to Dustin’s, his thoughts again returning to his bedroom. God, he’d wanted to kiss Dustin. But that would have ruined everything. He just needed to work through his feelings and find a way to move on, but still keep his friendship.
By the time he made it to Dustin’s, he’d talked himself into believing things would be just fine. Until Dustin walked into the sunshine, wearing aviator glasses, faded and well-fitting blue jeans, and a blue graphic T boasting “Pilots Do It Better” across his chest. As always, his dark blond hair was in a perfect swoop on top. No getting around it—Dustin looked sexy as hell.
Rafael’s dick twitched when Dustin gave him that slow, easy grin. “Hey.” Dustin’s musky scent filled the cab and Rafael fought the urge to breathe him in.
He nodded, not sure he could talk yet. What the actual fuck? His body was reacting like a horny teen’s.
Dustin cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “You okay?”
The man could always tell when he was stressed. “Mom called.”
Dustin’s face softened. “Money?”
“Yeah.” Dustin knew all about Rafael’s mom. It was nice not to have to explain everything. He just understood. “So, Home Depot?”
“Uh-huh. Can we grab some lunch after? I never ate breakfast.”
“Sounds good. I only had a granola bar.” Right on cue, his stomach growled.
Dustin laughed. “Want to hit the food first? We could run through a drive-thru and eat in the truck.”
That sounded good, so they drove through the Wendy’s close to Home Depot.
As they ate, Rafael began to feel better. Things seemed normal, no awkwardness between them. It would be okay.
“So, about last night,” Dustin began, sliding his glasses to the top of his head and taking a bite of his burger.
Rafael nearly choked on his chicken sandwich. He grabbed his soda and took a drink while he side-eyed Dustin. “What about it?” Damn, that came out sounding testy.
“I mean, are we okay? Did I do something? I mean, did I make a pass at you?”
Rafael’s heart slammed into his chest. “What? No! I told you, nothing happened.”
Dustin’s cheeks turned bright red. “Promise? I just want to make sure you’re not trying to keep me from feeling embarrassed. If I did anything…well, I just don’t want to fuck things up.”
“I swear. Nothing happened. Seriously, you’re making a bigger deal than it is, Dusty.” He had tried for nonchalant, but he wasn’t sure he’d pulled it off.
“I don’t ever want to do anything that would chase you off.”
Rafael smiled. “Never gonna happen.”
Dustin’s ocean blue eyes darkened. “I can’t lose you, Raf.”
He swore the air got sucked out of the truck and his lungs burned while he tried to tear his gaze from Dustin’s eyes. His friend, usually so full of confidence, seemed vulnerable. Rafael carefully chose his words and licked his lips, his meal forgotten for the moment. “You’ll never lose me, Dusty. Never. No matter what.”
A slow, almost sultry grin spread across Dustin’s face. “You just love me for my plane.” And just like that, the confidence returned.
Rafael rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
* * * *
Their trip to Home Depot ended up being an expedition of grand proportions as Dustin decided he needed to fill the rolling toolbox with all new tools. And since Rafael had no idea what kind of tools were used on planes, he just stood by and watched his best friend pick them out like a kid in a candy store. He could feel the excitement vibrating off Dustin as they stood in line to pay for the tools and pick up the toolbox he’d ordered.
They got everything loaded and headed out on the highway toward the airport. The temperature was already climbing and he worried it would be a hot summer. He hated heat. Unless he was in a pool.
“Hey, any plans for Memorial Day weekend?”
“Just working on my plane. You want to help?”
“Sure. But I was thinking we need to hit the pool, too. The one at my townhouse complex opens up that weekend.”
“Sounds great.”
He flipped on the radio as he flew down the highway, grassy hills and trees on either side of them. He loved the beginning of summer, when new greenery decorated the area and wildflowers popped up everywhere. Knowing he would have about ten weeks off over the summer only buoyed his mood.
When he saw a plane flying low as it came in for a landing, it hit him that it could be Dustin soon. Shit. Dustin was a fucking pilot. And they were about to see his plane. Excitement ran through him as he turned into the gated entrance of the small airport.
He followed the long road that ran along the outer edge, passing a larger brick building with windows around three sides.
“That’s the main office building. They’ve got a lounge up front where a lot of old timers like to come out and just watch the planes.”
Dustin continued explaining as they drove.
“That small metal building by the main office is the fueling station.”
Rafael’s eyebrows raised upon seeing a series of old-fashioned gas pumps. “They don’t look much different than the ones for cars.”
“They’re not, really.” Then he pointed out the tower to the north. “This is a small airport, so there’s just one landing strip.”
To Rafael, it looked really short, but he’d only been on a couple of flights in his life and they were on jets, so what did he know? Rows of long metal buildings stood at the far end of the airport, and even with his limited knowledge of aviation, he was sure those were the hangars.
They passed rows of small, parked planes as Dustin gestured for him to turn into a road leading past even more planes—a few of them looked like more expensive personal planes that a company might own—and then Dustin directed him to turn into one of the rows, driving nearly the full distance before his friend had him stop.
“This is my hangar—at least for a couple of months. Once my plane is running, it’ll be parked out with the others.”
“I had no idea there were that many planes here,” Rafael admitted, thumbing back from where they’d just come from.
Dustin chuckled. “More pilots in Rain Valley than you knew, huh?”
“Definitely.”
“One of the larger hangars we passed houses RV Aviation. They’ll be checking out the plane for me and helping with some of my maintenance needs. Mac Warner, the guy who runs it, told me to let him know whenever I have a question. After I’ve done some of my own repairs, he’ll take over and finish it up. Then it has to pass inspection, which they also handle.”
“So you’re not going into this blind, huh?” He’d worried Dustin might be biting off more than he could chew, but hadn’t wanted to say anything. But then again, his best friend never failed at anything he put his mind to. He was kind of brilliant like that.
“Of course not! I have a plan.”
After they parked and unloaded the huge toolbox, Dustin opened the hangar’s garage-style door while Rafael rolled it inside, the sound of the wheels on the concrete floor echoing in the empty space.
Once they’d place it against the back wall, they started unloading all the new purchases. Dustin organized and got things ready, and Rafael couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. Dustin started dancing while he worked, mouthing the words to a song only he could hear in his mind. His hips moved from side to side, the jeans stretching across his muscular ass and thighs. When Dustin turned to the side, Rafael’s gaze traveled to his friend’s flat belly, wishing that damn T-shirt would ride up. He licked his lips and took a deep breath, trying to look away. This was not the way to get past his feelings.
He shook his head, trying to erase the emotions coursing through him—not just lust, but love. But loving Dustin and knowing the man didn’t return his feelings sometimes proved to be too much. Despair welled up inside, and he blinked back the tears he was usually able to hold back.
“You okay?”
Dustin’s voice jolted Rafael from his mini-breakdown, and his eyes flew open. He cleared his throat and tried to fight the heat climbing his neck. “Yeah. Um, tired I guess.”
His friend grasped his shoulder. “Well, wake up! While you were daydreaming, I received a text that my plane just pulled through the gate!”
“If it doesn’t run, how’s it being delivered?”
“It’s being towed directly to this hangar. God, I can’t wait to get my hands on her. She’s beautiful, Raf. And just think—in July we’ll be flying to Oshkosh! A week of just you and me and my plane. I’m going to get us registered today or tomorrow.”
The sound of a large truck grew near and they stepped outside to see the tow-truck turning down their aisle.
Dustin threw his fist in the air. “Fuck, yes!”
Rafael grinned, more excited to watch Dustin than the plane, to be perfectly honest. Soon, the tow truck maneuvered the aircraft into the hangar.
The small plane was white with thin burgundy and blue stripes along the sides and a white tail with blue edging. A big white letter N followed by a series of numbers stood out against the burgundy on the tail, and Rafael wondered what those were for. Possibly like a license? He would have to ask Dustin.
The wings spanned out from the top of the plane. Like a normal car, the aircraft had two windows on each side, and a front and back windshield. But this was definitely not a car.
Once the tow truck driver unhooked the plane, Dustin talked with him for a moment, then the guy left. Dustin walked around the plane, running his hand over it, his face a mixture of reverence and disbelief. Rafael stayed quiet, letting him drink in the moment. Dustin finally stopped in front of Rafael, his lashes wet with unshed tears.
“Can you believe this?” Dustin’s normally self-assured voice had dropped to a shaky whisper, as if speaking too loudly could burst the bubble.
Rafael nodded. “I know. It’s crazy. I’m so proud of you, Dusty.” He opened his arms and his friend walked into them, clutching Rafael’s waist. They held tight for a moment until Dustin sniffled and pulled back.
“Sorry. Feeling a little overwhelmed. My dad would have been so excited. We talked about this so much, I kinda feel like he’s here right now.” He laughed and wiped away the tears with his thumb.
“That makes sense, actually. From everything you’ve told me, he wanted this dream as much as you did.”
Dustin gave him a hesitant smile. “He certainly did.”
* * * *
Dustin spent the next hour showing Rafael the parts of the plane, pointing out what needed to be worked on, and explaining the many items on the instrument panel. Rafael’s mind kind of went numb—he’d had no idea how much there was to flying.
Considering the plane was from 1976, the interior was nice. The two front seats and back bench seat were covered in a tan leather and the floor had a tan carpeting that appeared fairly new.
As they inspected the tail, Dustin pointed out several rivets missing along the seams where the metal panels met.
“I’ve already purchased rivets and a rivet gun. Can’t believe I left those in my workshop back home. I’ll probably get working on those immediately.”
Rafael ran his hand across the letter N that preceded the numbers on the tail. “What are these for?”
“The number is a registration number, with the letter in front standing for the country. ‘N’ represents the ‘US.’ ‘C’ is ‘Canada.’ ‘F’ for ‘France.’ Some countries have two letters, like the Netherlands use ‘PH.’”
“How do you remember all that?”
Dustin shrugged. “When I was younger, I tried to memorize them all. I kind of read anything and everything plane-related.” His cheeks pinked at the admission.
“That’s really incredible.”
Dustin shot him a smile. “I was shy and geeky in high school. Had to find something to keep me occupied when everyone was at the football games or prom.”
“You were shy?” He had a hard time reconciling that with the force of nature Dustin was now. He made friends everywhere he went and would never back down from a challenge. He seemingly had no fear. But his friend had never opened up about his teen years, and Rafael’s chest tightened a little, thinking of Dustin struggling.
“Shy. Nerdy. Gay. Basically a bully magnet. I got beat up a few times and decided it was better to stay home than venture out.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “Top Gun was on TV one night and I ended up watching it over and over. Ever since I’d gone flying with my uncle, I’d wanted to be a pilot, but that movie pushed me over the edge.”
Dustin’s eyes grew bright as he talked about flying and Rafael loved watching him. He came alive when he spoke about planes. He was already a beautiful man, but this made him irresistible. Rafael wanted to wrap his arms around Dustin and pull him in for a kiss. To drink in his excitement, his vitality—feel that buzz rolling off him in waves. But he balled his hands into fists and fought the urge, knowing Dustin would most likely push him away.
So, as usual, he settled for watching him and listening and keeping his feelings to himself. It got harder every day, though, and he worried one day it would all pour out of him. He chastised himself for letting his emotions run away again.
“Did you know that the Cessna 172 has been built more than any other plane? This is a 172M, even though in 1976 they didn’t tack that on to the title, just calling it a Cessna Skyhawk. But over the years, there have been a lot of variants. I can’t remember which model it was, but one of them set a flight endurance record in 1958—stayed in the air for sixty-four days.”
Rafael gaped. “This kind of plane? How could it do that?”
Dustin laughed. “There were two pilots, and apparently they would fly low over a moving fuel truck and get what they needed. Cars also raced to keep up with them and hoisted up food and supplies, too.”
“That’s crazy.”
“I haven’t checked for a long time, but I’m pretty sure the record hasn’t been broken for a small plane like this.”
As Dustin regaled him with more stories about his beloved Cessna, Rafael felt the pull to him again, low in his belly, but he ignored it. Next weekend he planned to get laid. He needed it. Needed to get Dustin out of his mind.
He ignored the way his heart ached when he thought about never holding Dustin in his arms. He ignored the way his mind nagged at him when he tried to focus on the plane rather than Dustin. And he ignored the way Dustin’s eyes danced as he talked about their upcoming trip.
God, he was in trouble. A week in a tent with the man of his dreams? It would be torture.