By Any Other Name (6 page)

Devon cracked up. “I thought Adrien was the only one who called them elf-a-go-go shorts?”
Michael forced a chuckle and lowered his shoulders a fraction. “Nah, most of us have heard him muttering that phrase enough that we all call them that when he’s not around. We just like to let him think he’s the only one who thinks the shorts are… well, pretty much every young gay boy’s fantasy of what he’d find at the North Pole.”
Devon snorted. “You guys talked about this when you were younger, didn’t you?”
Michael shot the clearly love-struck idiot an incredulous look. “Of course we did. The elves’ costumes before Andy took over were truly hideous, and we saw them every single year. We couldn’t help but talk about them.”
Pulling up next to a random, beat-up old Chevy Nova, which closely resembled Andy’s, Michael put the Jeep into park and left the engine running. “Well, I’m gonna work on his car for a bit while he’s inside and can’t stop me. It’s been running pretty rough, and he refuses to let me loan him the money to replace the engine. So I sneak in a little work on it here and there.”
Devon blinked at him before cracking a big ass grin. “Heh. Now who’s the stalker?”
Wildly grateful for the opportunity to vent a little of his long repressed anger at the man, Michael glared at Devon. “Fucking. Dick.”
Although it felt good to call the man a dick, Michael really needed to deflect Devon’s attention to something else unless he wanted to have it out with the man about the whole Andy situation right now. Thankfully Devon didn’t catch the depth of Michael’s ire, instead just laughing as though at a shared joke as he released his seatbelt and opened the passenger side door.
“Hey, I admit I’m a little twitchy on the subject right now, but if he says no, doesn’t that still mean no, cabron?”
After a heartbeat where he wondered if Devon had somehow gotten wind of Andy’s incident, Michael got out, scooped up a handful of snow from the roof of Andy’s car and flung it at Devon in the best imitation of light heartedness he could muster.
“Screw you, Sarge. Go get your costume. Tell Dieterman I said hi. I’ll have to catch up with him while he’s here.”
Devon slid into the driver’s side of the Jeep. “Will do. Tell Andy I’ll be at his party, okay? I just gotta go find the right costume and get Dieterman settled first.”
Michael didn’t really know how to respond to that. He had a hinky feeling about Dieterman’s sudden reappearance in their lives, especially given the other man’s patently obvious crush on the sergeant back before he got medically discharged. Consequently, he muttered a nondescript farewell while quickly popping the hood of the Nova.
“Yeah Sergeant, but I notice that you’re wearing different shoes than you showed up at Adrien’s with. What, do you keep a whole freaking wardrobe over there? It’s a little freaking early in the game to be moving in with him isn’t it?”
Devon didn’t answer, and Michael spent the next few minutes, until the Jeep pulled out of sight, praying Devon would leave quickly enough that he wouldn’t get caught screwing around with some complete stranger’s vehicle.
Once the black Jeep’s taillights passed the fourth row away from him, Michael dropped the hood the vehicle he was pretending was Andy’s. The bus line that ran out to the mall would get him close enough to home to walk back to his place and pick up his own car. He had to get his own costume ready and then get back over to Andy’s to help with the decorations like he’d promised. However, this time he wouldn’t allow himself to get distracted by Andy’s extreme hotness. Something had pissed Andy off, and Michael meant to find out what it was.
Fortunately, a bus came within ten minutes of Michael’s arrival at the bus stop. Less than forty-five minutes later, he was unlocking his front door. Vowing to remember his gloves next time, even if he was planning on being in a car, Michael rubbed his chilly hands together as he headed toward the kitchen for a hot drink. Instant cocoa wasn’t as good as Mrs. Simpson’s home brewed nectar of the gods, but it would get him warmed up from his twenty minute jaunt through the cold. Unable to shake the feeling of something being off with the whole Dieterman scenario, Michael pulled his phone from his pocket to call Devon. As the water warmed for his cocoa, he’d check in with Devon about when the other man was planning to meet up with Dieterman.
When the call connected, Michael nearly dropped it. Instead of Devon’s deep tones rumbling back at him, Adrien’s light tenor tickled his ear.
“Hey, Michael, what are you up to? I thought you were gonna go check on Andy and make sure he’s okay… how’s that going?”
Confused as to why Adrien would be answering Devon’s phone right now, Michael paused before he answered. “Hey back, Adrien. You okay, little elf?”
Adrien huffed a little before he replied. “I’m not an elf anymore, Michael. You know that. And you can’t reach Devon at this number right now… he, um… he left it at my place.”
Adrien stumbled a little over the last words, his voice catching as though his throat had suddenly clogged up. Michael paused again before releasing a deep sigh.
“I know. I picked him up from Mrs. Simpson’s place.”
A loud gulping noise came to Michael through the phone.
“Well, Crap-doodly. That just blows, Michael. Now she’ll probably trick him into becoming her patient or something.”
Absolute silence echoed between them as Michael searched for an acceptable reply to that statement. Then a haughty sniffing sound occurred.
“Hold on a second, Michael. I need to go where I’ll have a bit of privacy.”
Sounds of movement, the hard smack of flesh against wood, and then a suppressed yelp came to Michael’s straining ears.
“What was that noise? Are you okay?”
He could practically hear Adrien roll his eyes. “Geez, Michael, chill. You know if I was actually hurt I’d let someone know. Don’t be an ass.”
Michael grunted back at him before switching into a calmer tone and slightly more eloquent wording. “Right, I’m just a little nervous about this whole possible stalker thing. I mean, Adrien… if I didn’t know you I’d be tempted to stalk you after that little display, you know?”
Adrien hissed at him. “Shut up, Michael.”
Low, rich laughter rolled out of Michael and into the phone. “Sure thing, Adrien, I’m shutting up about that topic entirely. Hey, where are you at? I can swing by and pick up Devon’s phone and bring it back to him.”
Michael paused to shrug as he poured his cocoa into a to-go cup, snagged his keys and headed back outside. This time he remembered to grab his gloves and scarf, though. He grinned as he thought up the perfect hook to get Adrien to agree to his picking up the phone to return it to Devon.
“That way, if he wants to call to let you know exactly when he’s gonna get there tonight, he can.”
A warm, needy tone entered Adrien’s tone at Michael’s words. “He said he was gonna come?”
Snorting, Michael shook his head as he answered. “Oh, I’d call that one a definite yes. He practically threw me out of his car as soon as we got to where I needed. He said something about wanting to rush out and get a costume before he had to meet Dieterman to let the guy into his place. Tell me where you are, brat, and I’ll come get the phone to bring to him.”
Adrien sounded positively giddy as he answered. “Okay, okay… and stop calling me a brat. I’m over at Benji’s folks place. Apparently the ‘rents left his little sister on her own again to go to some society function, so we’re hanging out with her for a bit.”
Michael grunted again and this time the sound dropped nearly an octave lower. Missy and Benji’s folks really didn’t deserve such great kids.
“Well, aren’t they just nominees for best parents of the year. Eh, I’ll be there in fifteen, twenty minutes tops, alright?”
A smacking sound echoed over the line. “Uh, yeah, we just started eating, so waiting for you is no problem. There’s even a pineapple and ham pizza if you want to join us. You and Missy are the only two people I know who actually eat that crap willingly.”
As Michael slid behind the wheel of his car, he laughed so hard his sides ached. “I cannot believe you still get into such a twist about fruit being on pizza. I gotta hang up—I’m leaving the parking lot. Later.”

Several hours later Andy proudly opened the door to his house as the first of his guests arrived. Adrien’s phone began to ring, the tone of Bonnie Tyler’s song all about holding out for a hero bringing a bright red color flooding into his cheeks. Andy arched an eyebrow at him. Hell, he’d blush too if he got caught using that lame-assed Needy Nancy song as a ringtone too. A quick glance to the right showed Markus was also quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow at Adrien as they were all tortured with the strains of the music drifting into the quiet of Andy’s foyer. Adrien grimaced and slid his finger over the screen of his android phone to answer. As he held the phone to his ear, a puzzled expression drifted across his face.

After a moment where he cocked his head to one side and frowned, he raised startled eyes to Andy’s face. Adrien’s normally sunkissed face blanched.

Andy felt Markus, Benji, Sam, David, Anthony, and “E” all crowd in close. Adrien raised stricken eyes to them.

“Holy Crap-doodly, guys, it’s a level seven alert.”
Seven pairs of equally worried eyes passed looks of concern back and forth. “E” spoke first.
“What color, Adrien?”
Adrien gulped. “I—it sounds like a Black Sparkle.”
Andy and Sam both sucked in a harsh breath.
Andy squeezed out one word. “Who?”
Adrien shivered all over. “I’m pretty sure it’s Michael and Devon both. You all know your assignments. We gotta move fast. This one sounds bad.”
Benji and Markus raced back to Benji’s car to check on the siblings.
Anthony and “E” jumped into Anthony’s GMC Jimmy to check on the parents and then round up the police.
Andy saw Adrien and Sam glance over at what they thought of as his piece of shit Nova. He knew they were probably wondering if it would last long enough to get them to Devon’s place. Andy shot them both dirty looks from under his bright blond bangs.
“I’ll have you know that Michael has been sneaking into the parking lot at the mall nearly every day for two weeks rebuilding this engine. It’s practically new at this point. And don’t you dare tell him I knew.”
Sam chortled. Adrien just shook his head, gesturing at the vehicles doors.
“Okay, Mr. Supermodel with the smexy man on a string… can you unlock the damn car and get it running so we can go save these two big bumblers?”
As Andy took in the terrified look on Adrien’s face and the seriousness of his calling a level seven Black Sparkle alert, he shot Adrien a look and fumbled his keys out of his pocket. Dropping them on the snow covered sidewalk twice because his hands were shaking so badly, Andy almost wept with relief when Adrien lost his patience and snatched them up.
“Get your ass over to the passenger side, Andy. Sam’s driving. He’s not gonna lose his shit worrying like we will, and he always speeds, so we’ll get there fast, possibly with a police escort.”
Andy blinked at Adrien as the other man’s words crawled toward him through the frozen sludge of his senses. The idea of Michael in danger made absolute mush of his normally rapier wit. Adrien huffed at him.
“What? Get in the damn car. The ring-tone was Devon and the stupid Moses code thing was that crap Michael’s been trying to teach me since freshman year in high school.”
Sam snickered. Adrien turned, smacking the car keys into his brother’s hands and scowling at him. Sam lifted a honey gold eyebrow, glancing at the only other twink in their group with a claim to the name Samuel. Andy distractedly recalled how confusing it had been until Samuel David Rose had settled on being called by his middle name. Sam Jimenez grunted a damn good question at his brother.
“What do you want David to do?”
Adrien glanced wildly around, clearly at a complete loss. Andy placed a hand on his arm to quiet him. Meanwhile, fighting back his own panic to speak in his normal soft tones, he addressed Michael’s baby brother.
“David, can you stay here and keep the rest of the party-goers entertained and out of trouble? We’ll call you as soon as we know anything, I promise.”
David nodded, squared his painfully thin shoulders and made his way back into the house, closing the door gently but firmly behind him. He looked back through the little glass window in the center of the door, his unruly mop of curls flopping over his forehead. Andy and Adrien both sighed.
Adrien spoke first. “I can’t imagine—”
Andy cut him off. “I know. He’d just wither up and die. Let’s go get his big brother for him… and your man too. Muscle-bound idiots always think they can handle everything without any help.”
His last sentence tapered off into a muttered growl, but Andy was pretty sure Adrien was close enough to make it all out. Adrien nodded jerkily at his younger brother. Sam met his gaze for a second before his eyes dropped and his shoulders sagged. Andy shook his head as he made his way to the car. Those two really needed to get their shit together. They had no fucking clue how lucky they were, or how much Andy would’ve given when they were growing up to trade places with either of them. For right now they all needed to concentrate on getting Michael and Devon out of whatever mess the two Dumkopfs were in right now. He slipped into his seat and fastened his seatbelt. He—oh god, they had to get there in time—the things he’d said to Michael, treating him like some cheap lay. Over the top and drama queeny as it might sound, it really would kill him if those were the last words between the two of them.

When the door slammed shut behind Adrien, Andy didn’t even take a moment to think about what might or might not be safe. He simply pounded on the door until Sam yanked hard on his arm, dragging him over to the side of the little porch. They hopped the rail, pushed through the little shrubs and Sam boosted him up just in time to see Adrien come careening around the side of the couch. In classic Adrien style, the man seemed to trip over the motes of dust in the air. Andy could see the terror on his face and the trajectory of his helpless little body toward the big blown glass thing standing at the end of Devon’s couch. Devon called it his modern art sea urchin. Andy knew because he’d bought the damn thing for Devon during that long ago weekend they’d spent together. In less time than it took to draw in breath to scream, Adrien fell. One arm swept out before him, knocking the sculpture to the floor. Andy’s heart stood still in his chest as he watched one of the longest, stoutest spires of glass break at the tip, leaving behind a wickedly sharp edge.