Page 50 of Jackrabbit

Colt’s eyes darted up to meet Beau's before flicking to the house and back. And right at that moment, Beau couldn't pretend he hadn’t just offered what he’d offered. The boy had taken up residence on his couch several times, but it had always been an accident. This wasn't.

“Come on.”

Toast watched Beau walk in first, his tail flicking from his hammock by the back door—right up until he caught sight of Colt. Then he stood with a frantic, long meow and scrambled off his perch. His feet pattered across the floor, and he shoved himself between Colt’s ankles, already purring.

“Shower’s third door on the right.” Beau set Colt’s helmet on the island. “Laundry room’s next to it. Should be some clothes folded on top of the washer you can pick from. I’ve got an in-line water heater, so don’t worry about the hot water running out, neither.”

Without a word, Colt went down the hall, damn near tripping over Toast because the cat was following so closely. Beau was pulling fruit out of the freezer when the bathroom door shut, and Toast gave an affronted yowl. Beau leaned back to look into the hall, where Toast was settling outside the bathroom door, huffing like he couldn’t believe the audacity of his adopted human.

Beau shook his head and loaded the blender with cherries, pineapple, plain Greek yogurt, a banana, protein powder, avocado—he got the feeling Colt wasn't going to eat, but this would work for recovery for the moment. He waited until the shower switched off before blending it. It finished just as the bathroom door opened. Beau flipped the blender off.

Colt yelped, his feet thumping on the hardwood.

“Hey, crispy boy,” Colt murmured. “You trying to kill me?”

Toast chittered.

When Colt made it into the kitchen, Toast was riding across his shoulders, pressing his nose into Colt's wet curls and purring. Colt had taken Beau's gray sweats and an old band tee Beau used mostly to work on cars at home. They were huge on him.

And he looked adorable.

Beau smacked that thought down and turned away to pour the smoothie into a cup.

“Thank you,” Colt said as he sat himself on the couch. He settled Toast on the back and nuzzled the fur around his neck, and Toast's purrs turned crunchy and pleased. “I know I'm a mess.”

Humming, Beau handed Colt the smoothie. “Drink this and sleep. The mess will still be there in the morning.”

Colt kept one hand on Toast and sipped his smoothie while he watched Beau clean. His eyes were heavy, and by the time Beau had the blender drying on the rack, they were half closed. Toast was still purring on the back of the couch, and Colt was leaning against him while Toast licked Colt’s hair like he was a dirtykitten. The boy had been running on adrenaline the entire day. It was a miracle he’d made it this far before the crash, all things considered.

“Lay down.” Beau scooped Toast up, ignoring his protest, and grabbed the empty cup out of Colt’s hand. Toast crawled up to perch on Beau’s shoulders as Colt blinked awake, and Beau nodded toward the basket by his couch. “There’s blankets right there.”

“‘Kay.” Colt grabbed the top blanket and dropped down to bury his face in the back of the couch.

He was out in less than a minute, his breaths going slow as Beau dried the cup and set it back in the cabinet. Beau took a glass tumbler out of the same cabinet and poured two fingers of whiskey in it. He sat down in the armchair by the back doors. If the chair happened to face the couch, that was no one’s business but his own.

Toast just might love Colt more than he loved Beau. Right after Beau settled himself, he nuzzled Beau’s cheek and hopped down to trot across the room. He jumped up onto the couch and shoved Colt’s legs with his body until there was enough room for him, turned in a circle, and settled down with his nose buried in his own tail.

The whiskey glass was cool against Beau’s skin as he pressed the rim against his forehead and watched Colt’s back rise and fall.

***

Beau’s eyes snapped open. The clock read 4:17 AM. Why the hell was he awake? He rubbed his cheeks and blinked blearily at the ceiling.

A loud, distressed yowl echoed through his house, the kind Toast almost never made. The cat had spent hours glued to Colt’s side, comforting him, and he was gonna ruin all that by screaming at the asscrack of dawn.

Yawning, Beau rolled out of bed and slipped his shirt back on. He padded across the room and out into the hallway, but stopped at the couch to makesure Colt was still out. The blanket was dangling onto the floor, and there was a glass of water on the coffee table. Colt wasn’t there at all.

Toast yowled again, and Beau followed the sound through the kitchen and to the door leading to his garage. The furry menace was stretched up with his front paws against the wood while he made all that ruckus. Colt must be in the garage, and it didn’t take a genius to guess why.

“Alright.” He nudged Toast away from the door with his foot. “I’ll go get your boy. Just shut your fuzzy trap, will you?”

The cat gave him an unimpressed sneeze, and when Beau opened the door, Toast tried to dart through before Beau could. Beau caught him around the middle and dropped him back in the hallway, ignoring his indignant meow as Beau slipped into the garage and shut the beast out.

His eyes zeroed in on the sim immediately, up and running, the light from the three screens washing the garage in blue because Colt hadn't turned on the overhead lights. With a soft, puffed-out exhale, Beau walked barefoot across the mostly clean floor and came to stand behind the seat.

Colt was sweating, his cheeks pink from fatigue, exertion, the sauna the garage became with the doors shut in monsoon season. His hands were tight on the wheel, and he was running a sim with nineteen other cars. No sound, but Colt had his noise-cancelling headphones on. As he watched, Colt took a tight turn, tried for an opening, and crashed. The sim blipped and started back on the grid, and Colt blinked.

From the number of runs listed in the sim data, Colt had been at this for a long time. Beau came around the side where he knew Colt could see him, but Colt kept his gaze firmly on the sim. So Beau reached out and removed the headphones.