Jess kept pace with Shaine, catching him up on street gossip he'd collected that morning. Shaine only half-listened, more intent on not slipping in the icy mass of slush that covered the sidewalk and was now beginning to freeze as the temperature dropped. The sky, flat grey all day, was now merely a darker and more yellowish shade, lit from streetlights below rather than sun above; Shaine sent a silent entreaty to the clouds to just snow or go away, and not spend yet another day hovering low over the city, but they paid no attention at all.
Not that they really had any reason to do anything but ignore him, now.
For another month, the rent had been paid, and he could make sure Jess had a safe and tolerably warm place to sleep. Now they needed food to fill the empty shelves in his tiny kitchen, and though the grocery store they were headed for was a bit of a hike, it was the cheapest one in walking distance.
It helped, that instead of spending whatever money he could make on drugs, Jess was now helping with the rent and groceries and other necessities. Jess' wide dark eyes and charming smile were a definite advantage when he was out panhandling, and Shaine encouraged him to stick with that and opportunistic shoplifting. Sex for money meant nothing to Shaine, but he knew Jess too well to believe his young friend could do the same, and Jess' soul was already in enough shreds. And Shaine's other, safer ways of making some extra cash weren't something Jesse could do—even if Shaine had any intention of explaining, which he didn't.
Jess' rambling ended when they reached the grocery store, and the discussion turned to what to get. Neither had the skill or inclination to cook anything complicated, so for the most part their shopping trips consisted of food in cans and boxes, and food that went in the freezer. The strong tastes of instant food had, at first, made Shaine nauseous; he'd grown accustomed to that, as he had to the noise of the city that had assaulted his sensitive ears, and to countless other new experiences.
None of it mattered as much as protecting Jess as best he could. He'd adapted, and so well Jess had never noticed. Not that Jess had been in any condition to notice anything beyond his own misery, for most of the time Shaine had known him.
Paying always took a few minutes, since Jess' income tended to be in the form of coins; the woman at the cash didn't mind. They rarely did, unless it was extremely busy.
Between them, they could carry everything without much trouble.
They cut through a park, traded greetings with a couple of acquaintances, paused to compare notes on life for the last few days with someone they knew somewhat better—where they'd had luck in shoplifting or panhandling, who was doing what and the current activity levels of the cops, usual sorts of things.
Shortly after spotting Jess on the streets the first time, Shaine had decided that he had to stop wandering and settle down; accordingly, he'd found a single-room basement apartment, with all the utilities included, at a price he'd be able to manage alone. Unfortunately, the heat was controlled by the apartment upstairs, and the cement-tile floors and paint-over-plaster-over-cement walls tended not to hold a great deal of heat. Nonetheless, it was certainly better for Jess than sleeping outside, and cold didn't particularly bother Shaine. And the landlord had no objection to being paid in cash each month, without asking questions.
Shaine unlocked the door, flipped on the light, and both paused to remove slushy boots—Shaine was, by nature, extremely fastidious, and had simply laid down the law; that one, at least, Jess had never challenged.
A mosaic of second-hand throw rugs from yard sales and thrift stores covered most of the floor; they crossed it to the corner that held what passed for a kitchen. Jess stacked cold stuff in the freezer and fridge while Shaine put the rest away on the shelves above the sink.
“Going out tonight?” Jess asked, filling a glass with milk and heading over to sit on the bed. The room was small enough that the double bed dominated it, and left scant room for other furniture. Clothes were in the closet or a collection of stacked plastic milk crates. In one corner, under the window, stood a chair Shaine found comfortable, with a reading lamp and a stack of paperbacks on the small table next to it. On a pair of upturned milk crates sat an old fourteen-inch TV and a small stereo probably discarded because one of the two cassette decks no longer worked. The furniture had all come second-hand from one place or another, except the milk crates, which they'd filched from beside a store one night.
Shaine considered that, while he scooped a handful of cookies out of the bag and sprawled in the chair to nibble on one. “Nah, I don't think so. This weather is depressing, I'm really in no mood to deal with assholes tonight.” He probably should, there was February's rent to keep in mind, but one night wouldn't make any great difference.
“Good timing, then.” Jess leaned down, without spilling his milk, to grab his black canvas backpack and drag it over. One-handed, he untied it, and fished out a paperback, which he tossed to Shaine. “Forgot it earlier.”
Shaine caught it neatly. “Thanks.” Jess had figured out in a hurry that Shaine read voraciously, regardless of genre or subject, fiction or non-fiction; a week seldom passed that he didn't present Shaine with at least one, usually paperbacks, shoplifted from used or new bookstores. Any in good condition Shaine traded in at a used bookstore close by, and the others he donated. The library had fussed so much over Shaine's inability to prove his address or even his identity that he'd given up on getting a card.
Besides, he knew Jess liked being able to give him something, and he wasn't about to discourage anything that made Jess feel good, not when there was so little risk involved.
He'd had long enough to learn to recognize the way Jess dropped his gaze just a bit and shrugged.
Jess stretched out on the bed on his stomach, reached out to turn on the TV, and flipped through the three channels they could actually get relatively clearly. He settled on something, a sitcom from the sounds of it, and dragged a pillow into reach to cross his arms on, his empty glass on the floor next to him. Hardly mind-broadening... but, well, neither was some of what Shaine read, and if it gave Jess a chance to relax and escape reality for a while, so be it. Shaine switched on the lamp, turned off the overhead light, and got comfortable with the book he was two-thirds finished. Distracting as the noise of the TV was, there was something comforting in it, and in Jess' presence only a few feet away.
Hunger, later, sent him to the kitchen to toss chicken-and-broccoli-flavoured rice mix into a pot of boiling water; when it was ready, he split it between two plates, and gave Jess half, before returning to his book.
Sudden quiet made Shaine glance up; Jesse stretched lazily, and yawned.
“There's never anything interesting on after the late night movie. And I think I'm tired.”
“Sleep couldn't hurt,” Shaine conceded.
Not long later, they were curled up together in the bed, under the layers of blankets Shaine had hunted down here and there. Jess snuggled close, and Shaine slid an arm over him to keep him there. Sometimes, Jess complained that Shaine took more body heat than he shared, but that wasn't something Shaine could change, and these days Jess ignored it except on particularly cold nights. The company, Shaine thought, mattered more.
“Know something?” Jess murmured dreamily after a few minutes.
“Mmm?” Shaine said drowsily.
“We're gonna have somewhere nice to live someday. A whole house, and maybe we can make the basement into a couple of good apartments for people like we used to be. And we'll have a stereo with big speakers, we can play music all we want, as loud as we want, 'cause the cops never mess with real people, just with people they don't think are people. And a decent TV, with cable. And we can walk into a store and buy all the cool clothes we want, and we'll buy a really awesome car, a classic Mustang. Should we paint it black or red? Maybe a convertible. Anyway, then we can drive to a restaurant, a really good one, and we can order everything we want. A big steak and lots of fries. Chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and cherries. And after we're done, we can go home to our own house...” The words trailed off.
Shaine stroked Jesse's hair affectionately with one hand, forbore to ask where they were to get the money for house, stereo, TV, clothes, car, and dinner. He'd heard variations on the theme dozens of times.
“Yeah, Jess,” he said softly. “Someday.”
Someday maybe I'll figure out a way to get you there.