Flanked

can you keep going?”
“He’s such a brat,” Flix said. “We’re going to end up carrying him. I don’t even know what we were thinking, bringing him.”
“You’re all pains in the ass,” Devin said. He stumbled toward Joe, but bumped into Flix, who seemed to be refusing to get out of his way. Flix’s eyes had narrowed and he’d opened his mouth, so Joe jumped in before a bad situation got worse.
“When’s the last time anyone checked our surroundings?” he asked.
As one, all of them, even Devin, swiveled their heads, eyes wide. Other than flat land and dead brush, the only object for as far as Joe could see was the metal roof of a half-collapsed building, but he figured he’d made his point.
“There’s nothing there,” he said. “We’re safe, this time. But every time we get distracted, we’re vulnerable. And we have over a thousand miles to go, through places none of us have ever been. Who knows what we’ll face? Even though we’re only two days out, we have no water and we just survived a fire. The only way we’ll survive is by being unbreakable, by sticking together and getting along. You understand?”
Flix and Marcus mumbled stereo versions of “sorry, Joe.” Peter looked at the ground and nodded his head. How much any of them meant it and would take Joe’s words to heart — well, Joe wasn’t sure. Teens that age were so unpredictable. He wouldn’t make them apologize to each other, though; when he was a boy, his father had made him apologize to his step-mom, Maria, when he’d called her an ignorant embarrassment, and all it had done was make Joe resent her more.
He swallowed a few times, tried to find even a little spit to soothe the ongoing pain in his throat, and said, “Let’s go.”
The boys stumbled a bit, shifted on their feet, and began to move. They’d gone a few feet when Flix bounced back to Joe and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry you’re all hoarse, but I’m glad you keep us safe.” He patted Joe’s chest and ran back to his brother.
“He kiss you?” Devin sounded more curious than accusatory.
In answer, Joe kissed Devin’s cheek.
Devin grumbled. After a moment, though, he tucked Joe against him and slid his thumb around until he found Joe’s mouth. He jerked Joe to a standstill and kissed him, brushing over his lips and slipping his tongue inside.
Joe melted against him, savored the feel of Devin’s mouth. He didn’t deserve the affection, hadn’t proved himself worthy, but he craved it anyway.
Devin pushed in deeper, dragged Joe closer, then pulled away. “You taste like smoke.”
Joe wanted to say that Devin tasted like fire, but instead he whispered, “Smoke inhalation.”
They walked along, Devin’s hand slipping back to hold Joe’s, and Joe scanned the sides of the highway. Dawn approached, her feathery lightness streaking low on the eastern horizon. The sunlight glinted off the metal roof in the distance. House or barn, Joe couldn’t tell. He didn’t dare risk their safety by chasing another maybe. Whatever they found, whenever they found it, and God, Joe hoped it was soon, would need to be close enough to the highway to recover from any mistakes they may make. Mistakes he may make.
“It didn’t mean stuff.” Devin bumped Joe’s hip. “Me kissing you. I just...”
Needed you to be real. Joe understood. He kissed Devin’s shoulder and walked on.
***
With the sun reaching high enough to warm Devin’s face, they took shelter in another abandoned house on the outskirts of some town. Wacko. Devin wasn’t pronouncing it right, but he was too tired to care. He sank to the floor on his butt and dug his fingers through the carpet.
No one talked much. Joe didn’t seem to be able to talk at all, though Devin wasn’t sure if that was from the way he’d abused his voice, the smoke he’d inhaled, or his concern for the damage he’d left behind in that small town. It rattled Devin, Joe being so quiet, but he did his best not to let on. They were partners still, even if they weren’t exactly lovers, and he could do some time as the strong one.
Trouble was, his throat hurt like hell, too. Parched. Not only that, he hadn’t needed to piss once the entire night. They’d only stopped for one meal, and he’d barely been able to choke it down. His head throbbed.
At least his vision was beginning to clear. He hoped. Light streamed through the windows; he saw that, vague and diffuse. A blurry blob dropped onto the ground in front of him. One of the kids, surely. He reached out with his toe and poked at the shape. A dull grunt. Peter. Another human-sized splotch moved through the light from a window. Flix or Marcus, Devin couldn’t tell.
Joe sat next to him. He’d know Joe anywhere. Didn’t need to see him, didn’t need him to speak. Just his breathing, his smell.
Joe took his hand and placed an object in his palm. “Eat.” His voice came out raspy and quiet, but at least it came out.
Nutrition bar, what Joe had given him. He recognized the rectangular shape. Couldn’t see it, any more than just a darkening of the palm of his hand, but he could damn well eat it.
Joe stirred beside him. “I want to take Flix and find water.”
“Did you check the taps?” Devin asked.
“He’s not stupid, blondie,” Flix said. “That’s the first thing he did.”
“Shut up, Junior.” Devin didn’t want to fight with Flix. The kid had started to grow on him back in Austin, but the blindness was making him cranky. Or was it the thirst? To Joe, he said, “I don’t think splitting up again is a good idea.”
“Me neither, but we need to check out some other houses, maybe find some locals, see if we can trade. It’ll be easier if you and Peter aren’t there. Someone sees your blond mop or his green eyes, they could try to kidnap you.”
The logic sucked, but it