Jake C. Wallace's Blog, page 18
December 3, 2013
Wednesday Briefs #11 Diventando: Becoming
Copyright 2013 JC Wallace Welcome to another installment of Diventando: Becoming. If you are new and haven’t read the previous chapters, click on Wednesday Briefs in the left hand column and start with #1. This week the prompt I chose: use a football term. Enjoy and feel free to leave a comment. Once the drug paralyzing his body had worn off, Owen had struggled and fought for hours against the restraints holding him to the gurney. He’d screamed and yelled and pleaded until his throat was raw and his voice had given out. Nothing made sense anymore. He’d come to the hospital for a death sentence and got what? A prison sentence? Did he have some highly contagious disease making him a threat to public safety? But why throw him into a dark room, alone, without an explanation? Shouldn’t they be treating him? Unless...it was too late. He was going to die alone and in the fucking dark. Please, someone, get me out of here. This had to be a mistake. Someone, somewhere, had mistaken him for someone else. Soon they would realize their error and set him free. There would be apologies and pleas for him not to sue. Anything. He’d agree to anything to go home. Too many explanations as to why he was in that room competed for dominance in his exhausted mind. No matter what explanation he considered, though, one thought stood out. He was in big, hairy balls, trouble and no one was going to save him. The lock clicked and the door opened. The bright light stabbed sharp pains into Owen’s eyes. He clamped his eyes shut until the pain subsided. The overhead light was on and someone was moving around the room. Tattoo Nurse stepped up to the bed. “Have a nice nap?” he asked with a sadistic chuckle. “Why am I here?” Owen’s raspy voice barely made a sound. The man ignored his question and fiddled with something on the table next to the gurney. “Please,” Owen whispered, imploring the man to answer. Owen tensed as the back of the man’s hand connected hard with his cheek. The pain exploded through his head. Owen breathed through the agony as his eyes watered. “You will not speak unless asked.” What the fuck? Had he fallen down some freaky ass rabbit hole? Stepped into the twilight zone? He had to be dreaming, right? Tattoo Nurse turned around and, shit, he had an IV needle. He shoved the needle into the back of Owen’s hand and pushed it around under his skin. “Fuck,” Owen said through gritted teeth. Owen started to doubt the title of “nurse.” Sadistic bastard was more like it. Finally, the man hit the vein then haphazardly slapped on pieces of tape to hold the IV in place. Fucking touchdown for his team. Owen debated whether to say something about his straining bladder. That might get him another smack. If he pissed his pants, would his sadistic nurse have to clean it up? The man would probably let him rot in the urine so that wasn’t a good idea. Along with the pain in his hand, an icy cold sensation filtered under his skin at the sight of the IV. The cold worked its way up his vein and into his arm, expanding to fill his chest and gut and legs. Even his head took on a chill and soon his teeth were chattering. What was in that IV? Ice water? The door opened and a woman in a lab coat and holding a clipboard entered. Her olive complexion was ruddy and she wore brown framed glasses with thick lenses. Her ashy brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her expression was devoid of any emotions as she surveyed Owen with cold, detached eyes. “Has subject number 3134 been given the PX62, Malcolm?” Who was subject 3134? Tattoo Nurse—Malcom—turned and nodded. The woman wrote something on her clipboard and stepped closer to the bed surveying Owen. Every few seconds she stopped to note something on her papers. Was she even going to speak to him? You will not speak unless asked. The shivers that racked his body grew stronger. Even his bones were cold. Still the woman said nothing. “The solution seems to be having the intended effect. I would say we can safely move onto the next phase,” she said to Malcolm. “Yes, Dr. Sealy. I’ll set it up now.” The cold infiltrating his hand ceased to Owen’s relief. He needed answers. None of this was right. “Dr. Sealy?” Just talking flared the pain in his cheek. She continued to look at her clipboard. “Listen, I think you have the wrong person. I came here for my checkup, and for some reason, Dr. Noel sent me here. What’s going on? What the hell is wrong with me?” Dr. Sealy blinked and looked to Malcolm. “It’s talking to me,” she said, with a look of disgust. Owen frowned. “Yeah, it’s talking to you,” Owen said, trying to speak above a whisper. “And it wants some answers.” Malcolm turned and slapped a wide piece of tape over Owen’s mouth. Owen’s eyes widened at the action. They fucking taped his mouth! Owen struggled briefly in the restraints and screamed into his taped mouth, but neither person paid any attention to him. Adrenaline flooded his mind, paralyzing all thought except for one. They were going to kill him. A hot spike stabbed into his hand. Another IV bag had been set up. The heat spread under his skin like molten lava and raced through his body in record time. Sweat beads formed on his skin and ran in rivulets down onto the bed. The intensity of the heat grew in his gut, flaming and searing. He cried out, but the tape muffled the noise. The heat continued to rise until he was sure he’d spontaneously combust. As in his dream, tense expectation spread through Owen with a restlessness that burned beneath his skin. Screams echoed in his head yet he clearly heard a voice speak to him. The voice from his dream. “I will be free.” # # Check out the other flashers this week at http://wedbriefsfic.com/category/wednesday-briefs/
November 28, 2013
Happy Thanksgiving!! What I am grateful for...
Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans! I give thanks everyday for what I have in my life but being that it is officially the day I will share what I am grateful for in no particular order.
1 - That I am not a turkey!
2 - my awesome kid...s and grandchild
3 - my family - including those no longer with me
4 - that I have become a published author and am writing what I love
5 - for everyone who has read my stories and enjoyed them - Thank you!
6 - I am not hungry or homeless or suffering greatly - my load is bearable
7 - the men and women in the military risking their lives for my freedom - your sacrifice is not forgotten
8 - Men and men and men
Lastly #9 and 10 - All of my friends who have welcomed me for who I am and have not judged me for being that person. You are all awesome and are the bright spot in my day!! My life is truly better with all of you in my life. I love the laughs and silliness and raunchiness and kinky fun. Oh, and the naked pics too!
Even you don't celebrate Thanksgiving take time to remember what you're grateful for today!! See More
November 26, 2013
Wednesday Brief #10 of Diventando: Becoming
Copyright 2013 JC Wallace This is installment #10 of Diventando: Becoming. If you have not read the previous chapters, click on Wednesday Briefs in the left hand column. This week I used the prompt: Failure is not an option. After reading this chapter, check out the list of authors flashing. Enjoy!
Owen was unsure what to say. Not leaving the hospital? He didn’t...What...
Warning bells rang in time with his thudding heart. Dr. Noel’s face was neutral. The men in black wore steely expressions and Tattoo Nurse was sneering at Owen as if he were a bug he wanted to squash.
Owen swallowed hard. “Um...I don’t understand. What do you mean I won’t be leaving the hospital?” Shit. Was he going to die today? He felt achy, feverish, and every gland in his body was swollen and tender, but that was nothing compared to yesterday with Turk. If he had to guess his current life span, he’d say at least a month or longer but not hours.
Oh, shit. He had to call his parents. Tell Wayne. What about Turk? No. Best not to drag him into his drama of dying. Wayne could tell him later.
But wait...He didn’t want to die in a hospital.
“I have to see Wayne,” he said before the doctor could say anything.
The doctor narrowed his eyes. “Maybe later. Right now, these gentlemen will escort you to another unit of the hospital. This is not my area of expertise.”
Owen snorted. “What isn’t your area of expertise?” Owen didn’t bother to disguise the anger in his voice. “Tell me what the heck is wrong with me, because I’m freaking out here. I came here with leukemia, or so I thought, and you tell me I don’t have it—never had it—and now you’re shipping me off somewhere else without an answer?”
The doctor’s expression turned hard and his eyes cold. Didn’t take him long to lose his patience with Owen.
“You will go with these men and not question what I’ve told you.” He folded his arms over his chest.
Did he think Owen was five? Hell no. “I’m just going to leave now.” Owen slid tentatively off the exam table and stepped to the left, hoping the men would make way, but no one budged. The Tattoo Nurse chuckled and, wow, that had sounded evil.
The men in black watched Owen’s every movement as if he were prey they were stalking. Fear flooded Owen’s system and pushed his heart rate to an impossibly high rate. A pain in his heart, spread across his chest, up into his jaw and arm and, shit...Was he having a heart attack? A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, over his cheek and fell from his jaw. With the pain came heat, rising to an unbearable level. Several more beads of sweat journeyed down his face. He swiped at them with the back of his hand.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Owen said. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
Owen shuffled backward until he had the exam table between himself and the others in the room. He had to get out of there. At this point, failure was not an option.
“You have no choice, Owen,” Dr. Noel said, turning his head to Tattoo Nurse and nodding.
Owen pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Quickly, he unlocked it and hit the phone icon. As soon as he did, Tattoo Nurse came toward him on one side of the exam table and the two men in black came around the other side. Adrenaline shook Owen’s hands as he hit the Recent Calls list and Wayne’s nunber. He pushed his phone under the exam table and charged Tattoo Nurse, pushing him as hard as he could. The man flew backwards onto the floor. Owen rushed the doctor who merely stepped aside. Shocked, Owen lunged for the door, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. Another hand grabbed his arm and together those hands dragged him backward as his feet struggled to catch ground.
In one motion, Owen was slammed onto his back on the exam table. The wind rushed from his lungs. Gasping for breath, he heard a muffled yell from beneath the table.
Wayne.
“Wayne! Help me! Wayne!”
A hand clamped hard over Owen’s mouth. One of the men in black glared down at him with those dark, soulless eyes. In the background, Wayne still screamed his name, begging Owen to answer.
Why were they doing this to him? What was so wrong with him that they had to force him to stay?
A pinch in Owen’s arm forced a whimper from his throat. In his peripheral vision, Tattoo Nurse stood with a syringe in his hand. Fuck, the man had dosed him with something. A rush of warmth fogged Owen’s brain and dulled the panicky fear. His muscles lost their strength, relaxing against his will. He blinked several times as his vision blurred.
Wayne’s voice got louder and Owen saw that Tattoo Nurse was holding his phone. With a malicious smile, Tattoo Nurse dropped the phone onto the floor, raised his foot and brought it down hard. Owen heard the crunch of the glass and plastic and Wayne’s voice stopped. The hand over Owen’s mouth moved and Owen gasped in a deep breath ready to scream, but nothing came out. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Above him, Doctor Noel scowled with disgust.
Owen prayed Wayne had heard him scream and was searching for him. Any minute he envisioned the door would fly open and his hero would bust in and save the day. But as the men loaded Owen’s limp body onto a stretcher and strapped him down, that hope faded.
Whatever had been in that syringe had rendered everything but Owen’s mind useless. The men in black rolled his gurney down several long hallways and through several doors. Every second took Owen further away from Wayne and freedom. One final door and Owen’s gurney was placed in the center of a small hospital room with no windows.
Tattoo Nurse leaned over the gurney and smacked his palm hard against Owen’s cheek. “Sleep tight,” he growled then disappeared.
The light went off and the door slammed shut, leaving Owen alone in the dark.
##
The Wednesday Brief bloggers have a new web site. You can now read a snippet of all of the free Wednesday Briefs stories in one place, then jump to each site. Check it out!
http://wedbriefsfic.com
November 23, 2013
Christmas Delights - A Christmas Anthology from Love Lane Books
Getting so excited!!!! In six short days, Love Lanes' Christmas Delights will be out! An anthology of stories focusing on Christmas and the winter season. All stories are Male/Male romances featuring fourteen new authors (including me!) and a selection of existing authors.
My story Waiting for Snow will be included. Get a sneak peek here!
Available FREE on December 1st from Love Lane Books, AllRomance E-Books and Smashwords.
Check out the blog for release date information and information about the authors: Love Lane Books Christmas Delights
Mark it on your calendars!!!!
November 19, 2013
Wednesday Briefs: Installment #9 of Diventando: Becoming
Copyright 2103 JC Wallace Time for another chapter of Diventando: Becoming. If you haven’t read the previous installments, scroll down this page and read it from the beginning. Enjoy!Owen pulled his knees to his chest and tried to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair. He was past exhausted. After his dream-filled night, Owen was at the hospital in Burlington waiting to see Dr. Noel. Wayne had called the office and low and behold, they had told Owen to come in to see the doctor. In addition, the doctor was going to fast track his tests and get the results today. What specialist did that? Owen didn't care. The sooner he knew his fate the better. Now that he was there, Owen couldn’t express how much he hated hospitals. The clinical surroundings reminded him of his mortality, which was nearing the end of the line. He was here to find out, not if, but when he was going to die. He’d already had his blood drawn and had a CT scan. Now, he only had to wait for the doctor to deliver the bad news.And it would be bad news. A shudder ran through Owen. Soon he’d be leaving his family, his friends and Turk. Owen closed his eyes. Turk. The dream from the night before still clouded his mind and he relived it over and over. The vibrations, the all-encompassing power behind that bodiless voice, the bite of the wind against his skin, and Turk, all had a tangibility that belied the fact that it had only been a dream. If Owen focused too closely on those sensations, he’d sink into the dream as if it were happening again. Earlier, on the way to the hospital, Wayne had needed to shake and yell at Owen to pull him from the catatonic state. Despite the freakishness of the dream lurking into the day, Owen shivered, recalling Turk's bare chest with those hard muscles and the man had been wearing a kilt. Where the hell had the kilt come from? Owen didn’t have a kilt fetish—or hadn’t had one until now. Those muscular, hairy thighs partially covered by the red and black plaid kilt, the “V” of Turk’s waist, the dark hair peeking out from—“Owen McIntyre.” Owen startled and opened his eyes. A man with colorful tattooed sleeves on each arm and wearing grey scrubs stood before Owen. He definitely didn’t fit the stereotypical nurses Owen had encountered. “Follow me,” the man said, without cracking a smile. A few chairs away, Wayne had stretched out with his hat pulled over his eyes. Owen nudged his cousin’s ankle and Wayne jumped up and off the chair, as if someone had lit a firecracker.Wayne rubbed at his face. “Must have fallen asleep. Where to now.”“I’m heading to see the doctor. Go back to sleep.”Wayne nodded and slumped back onto the chair. Poor guy was exhausted. Owen followed the nurse into the examination room. Owen sat on the exam table. The nurse sat at the computer and clicked a few buttons. “So, this is your first time here. We received the records from your former doctor. Leukemia, huh?” The man gave Owen a stony glance. “Yeah,” Owen said as the exam room door opened. A short man with a partially balding head came in. He was a little pudgy and unlike his tattooed nurse, he actually smiled. Holding out a hand, he approached Owen, “Hello, Owen. I’m Dr. Noel.” Owen shook the man’s sweaty hand. “Hi.”The nurse rose and stood near the door. The doctor sat at the computer and clicked some keys then turned to Owen. “Owen, I’ve read over the files you sent. I must say I don’t receive many paper files anymore.”Owen tried not to appear nervous. He hadn’t actually come by the files legally. Thanks to Drew and his hacking skills, Owen had obtained his records without alerting his doctor at home or his parents. “Um, my mom keeps copies of everything. I think it makes her feel like she’s doing something.”The doctor nodded and then cocked his head. “You were treated by a Dr. Celo?”Owen nodded.“It seems that most of your treatments were done in his office. Did you ever spend time in a hospital?”“Not a hospital, no. Dr. Celo has his own clinic that has some rooms in it. I spent time there when I was really sick.”Dr. Noel stood and took a few steps towards Owen. “And Dr. Celo first diagnosed you when you were sixteen?”Owen nodded. “Yeah. He’s been my doctor since I was a kid.”“From his credentials, I see he is a general practitioner who has treated you for a rare form of leukemia for over ten years.”Was that a question? Owen shrugged. His doctor was good. Was there some jealousy coming to the surface here? Dr. Noel narrowed his eyes. “Since you’re initial diagnosis, you’ve been in remission several times; however you’ve never been in remission for longer than two years.”Owen bit down on his cheek and nodded again. Was this some kind of pre-death sentence torture to numb him for the final blow? It might actually work.Dr. Noel crossed his arms over his stout chest and pursed his lips. “Well Owen, I have reviewed your test results and consulted with one of my colleagues.”There was an annoying pause and Owen wanted to crawl out of his skin. The doctor was eyeing Owen suspiciously, as if trying to decide something. A sudden need to flee flooded Owen’s veins and twisted his stomach. He should have gone to Dr. Celo. Dr. Noel dropped his arms and a smile came to his face. “I have good news and some not so good news for you."Owen wanted to smack the smile off the doctor’s face. “Hit me with it.”“You don’t have leukemia.”The words circled Owen’s head like angry bees, buzzing and buzzing. Did he say...?“You mean it’s still in remission? But I’ve been sick,” he insisted.As Owen said the words, the doctor shook his head. “No, Owen. You don’t have leukemia and you never have.”Owen was sure his mouth was hanging open.“Yes, I have checked your test results and consulted with a leading oncologist and his conclusions match mine,” Dr. Noel said with annoying smugness.Owen hadn’t imagined being sick all of those years. He’d damned near died several times. That was probably the bad news-something else was wrong with him.“So what’s the bad news?” Owen asked, bravely. He’d come ready for a death sentence. What could be worse news than that?The door opened, and two very large men dressed in black from head to toe stepped into the room and closed the door behind them. Owen hunched back as the room capacity shrank. “The bad news? You won't be leaving the hospital.” ##Check out the other authors flashing this week: The Wednesday Brief bloggers have a new web site. You can now read a snippet of all of the free Wednesday Briefs stories in one place, then jump to each site. Check it out! http://wedbriefsfic.com/2013/11/20/wednesday-briefs-november-20-2013/ Nephylim MA Church A.R. VonMC Houle Elyzabeth VaLey Shelly SchulzRob ColtonChris T. KatCia Nordwell Jon KeysTali SpencerAndrew GordonRenee StevensJulie Lynn Hayes
November 13, 2013
Wednesday Briefs #8: Diventando: Becoming
Copyright 2103 JC Wallace
Welcome to installment #8 of my weekly flash story: Diventando - Becoming. If you haven't read the first seven installments, scroll down this page and start from the beginning. Warning: Some of these installments contain graphic sex scenes between men.
Each week we are given a list of prompts to choose from. The prompt I chose this week: "How can you say that?"
After catching up with Owen and Turk, check out the list of other authors flashing this week at the end of this installment. Enjoy
Diventando - Becoming #8
A restless sleep plagued Owen that night. Sweat soaked his clothes and bedding. Internally, a raging furnace blasted through any cooling effects his overworked air conditioner might have offered. His muscles twitched and bones ached and his mind raced. Thoughts and emotions batted for recognition. Guilt, remorse, longing, fear, anger, loss...all wanted to be front and center in the spotlight. Memories, good and bad, as well as family and friends, appeared and then faded in his dreams. Unfortunately, his dreams didn’t allow him to escape from the knowledge of his impending death.
Wayne came into Owen’s room several times during the night, leaving him water, wiping his sweaty forehead, sitting on his bed—just in case. A part of Owen wished to die in his sleep while another part panicked at the thought of dying. After hours of tossing and turning, Wayne convinced Owen to take something to help him rest. Wayne’s weary, exhausted face told Owen that Wayne wouldn’t sleep until Owen did. Owen took the pill without protest and soon sank into a deep sleep and into another dream.
Owen stood in a darkened forest beneath towering, leafless trees. Their gnarled, fingerlike branches, illuminated by the full moon, intertwined above his head. A volcanic heat, the likes of which he’d never felt before, radiated from his core. His chest was bare and his sleep pants hung on his emaciated frame. This wasn’t his body. Well, it had been his body after his last battle with his illness. Now, almost two years later, his mind was reminding him of how his body would waste away before his death.
He ran his fingertips over his ribs, each one on prominent display beneath his taunt skin. His collarbone protruded sharply. The joints and bones of his elbows and wrists were visible. He swiped a hand over his head. He had hair. Thank God. After his last round of chemo, he’d gone completely bald. It had taken over eighteen months for his hair to return to its original thickness. He didn’t every want to be bald again.
Owen surveyed the dark woods with a keen eye. Nothing looked familiar. He’d spent many hours throughout his life in the woods behind his house, exploring and escaping life. Having been sick for so many of his teen years, friends were rare. In those retreats to the woods, Owen had found peace and comfort, which is probably why his brain had chosen to place him in this setting. He felt safe here yet...Something else was here, waiting impatiently on the fringe of his consciousness. Tense expectation spread through Owen with a restlessness that itched beneath his skin and he knew what waited...
Death.
Death waited with an impatience emanating from Owen’s victories over his illness, which had allowed Owen to continue living. Owen had clawed his way up that cliff over and over to stay in the land of the living. He had cheated death one too many times and now, Death paced, like a caged tiger, waiting for the door to his enclosure to open, waiting to claim what was rightfully his—Owen’s soul.
“What are you waiting for?” Owen yelled into the darkness. “I’m done fighting. I give up! Just get it over with!”
Silence was the answer.
“Come on, Death, you fucking coward. Come and get me!”
A loud humming noise filled the air, emanating from some unknown source. Panic clogged Owen’s throat as the pulsing infiltrated his skin, quivered in his muscles, expanding until Owen was confident that his molecules would separate and fly into the atmosphere. When searching for any clue as to his final destination—if any—after death, Owen had read hundreds of stories of near death experiences. Many of those stories had mentioned the vibration as part of their transition, as the vehicle for crossing over.
Shit. This was it. The end.
A swift, sharp wind rushed down through the trees and pushed hard at Owen. The whistling and howling that accompanied the sudden gust, morphed and twisted into words.
“I am not Death. I am life.”
Owen struggled against the unyielding wind at his back, and tried to respond, but the swirling wind pulled the air from his lungs.
“You have been denied me for far too long, but I have always been here. Waiting and watching.”
Owen forced in a lungful of air. “NO! I want to live, but I don’t have a choice!” God, how he wanted to live.
Owen’s feet were forced to move forward despite his struggle to remain where he stood. The humming expanded and contracted as the wind whistled through the trees, yet their branches remained still, unmoved by the force battering down on Owen.
“There is a choice. Stop the fight against me.”
Owen held his arms out as if the action would impede his forward movement, but it was fruitless.
“How can you say that? All I’ve ever done is fight to live!”
A crackle of energy charged the wind, sending an emotion racing through Owen. It felt a lot like anger. Whoever or whatever was doing this was pissed.
“Others have fought against me, kept me locked away with their science. I have lost all patience for their meddling.”
Owen’s forced steps quickened with the growing torrent, which was guiding him around trees and rocks and brush, as if following a predestined path.
“I don’t understand what you mean!”
The rush of the wind swiftly carried Owen’s voice away from his ears, causing him to wonder if he’d even uttered a sound.
“I will show you life.”
Ahead in the darkness, a pinpoint of white light appeared, swelling and expanding. With a sudden, flashing brilliance, the light illuminated the hidden spaces untouched by the moonlight. The intense sphere of light encased Owen and the surrounding forest. The wind ceased with an abruptness that left Owen flailing and bending at the waist to avoid face planting on the ground. Once he steadied himself, he stood upright.
Owen blinked. In a clearing, in the center of the brilliant light, stood a tall man with his back to Owen. The dark skin of his naked torso shone in the light, highlighting his hard, tight muscles. A red and black plaid kilt hung low around his hips. Damn, that was hot.
When the man turned, Owen gasped.
Turk,” Owen whispered.
Turk’s met Owen’s gaze. His stern face softened, and that coy lopsided grin Owen found so appealing appeared.
“He is life,” the voice said.
The man was magnificent and beautiful and yes, definitely full of life. Turk’s smile twisted, transforming into a malevolent, wicked sneer and then he spoke.
“Yes, I am life. But I am also death.”
# # Now check out the other authors flashing this week:
Victoria Adams
Chris T. KatMA Church Nephylim Jon KeysRob ColtonLily Sawyer Renee StevensTali SpencerShelly SchulzAndrew GordonJulie Lynn HayesCia Nordwell
November 9, 2013
Trey's Greatest Gift - A Gay Romance Short
I wrote this birthday-themed short story to celebrate Vicktor Alexander's November Birthday Extravaganza!
Warning: Contains explicit sex scenes between two men.
Copyright 2103 JC Wallace
~~~~~~~~~ The thrumming beat of the music hummed through Trey’s bones, while dozens of hot sweaty bodies, ripe for the picking, writhed on the dance floor. Groins and hard muscles ground and rubbed and rutted against one another in a homoerotic mating dance. God, Trey needed this. Shirt off, pants slung low over his hips, Trey reveled in the heated touches, the slide of skin against skin, the dirty words whispered against his ears. The arousing scent of musk and sweat filled his nostrils, conjuring images of his face buried in someone’s ass, sucking and biting, his tongue fucking their hole. Shit, he hadn’t thought he could get any harder.
In front of him, a pretty, little blond twink humped against his thigh, but he wasn’t what Trey needed tonight. No, he needed someone to push him against a wall and fuck him so hard he’d feel the burn for a week. That someone was currently behind him, hands gripped tight on his hips, an impressive bulge grinding into the crack of his ass, sending throngs of heat through his groin. Leaning back against the bare, hard chest, Trey slung his arms around the anonymous man’s neck. Reaching around him, the strong hands previously on Trey’s hips pulled the writhing twink against Trey’s groin. Friction sparked as thrusts from behind jammed Trey’s pulsing cock against the hard stomach in front.
Trey felt stoned, flying with the music. His skin tingled with every touch. He had no idea who these two men were, but they were definitely a study in opposites, living on different ends of the manliness scale. But, oh, they were the perfect presents to soothe his wounded pride and help him forget the suckiest day of his life. Yeah, it had sucked big time, but that had changed once he’d stepped into The Cove, the hottest gay bar on the south side. And, fuck, if he hadn’t hit the jackpot. The big guy was going to fuck Trey until he screamed for mercy, and the blond was going to suck Trey’s brains out through his cock. And Trey was going to forget all about Donnie dumping him earlier that night during his twenty-eighth birthday party. His now ex-boyfriend had planned Trey’s party, invited a shitload of people then had dumped Trey in the worst possible way in the middle of it all. Trey tried to block out his guilt of pushing past his best friend and co-worker Daryl on the way out. He clamped his eyes shut at the pained look in the man’s eyes, but if Trey hadn’t escaped that apartment, he would have lost it. He shook his head to rid himself of the vision.
The man behind him, reached up, and hooked the blond’s head, pulling his face toward Trey. Wide, glassy eyes reflected the colored lights pulsing to the music. A lopsided grin met Trey’s lips and as Trey closed his eyes, a wet tongue forced its way into his mouth. Trey opened and the young man started eating and grinding against Trey’s lips in rhythm with his hips. A gravelly voice spoke into his ear, “That’s it. Kiss that bitch. So fucking hot.”
Hot lust exploded from every cell in Trey’s body, and he attacked the supple mouth, eliciting a moan that vibrated across his tongue. Thrusts against Trey’s ass increased as teeth nipped at the skin of Trey’s neck, and a slick tongue left cooling trails on his burning skin. Inside of him, a wild torrent was building momentum, growing and expanding, too massive to be contained within his skin.
“I think I’ll rip your jeans off and stuff my cock in right here,” the man growled.
Trey’s gut clenched, and he whimpered into the blond-haired man’s mouth. Raising his hand, the big man pushed the twink’s head to Trey’s chest where he greedily latched onto a nipple, sucking for all he was worth. Trey hissed and arched his back. A hand shoved into the back of Trey’s pants and a dry finger plunged into his greedy hole. Trey pushed back, forcing the finger in farther.
“You are such a slut for it, aren’t ya? And what about the kid? Got quite the mouth, huh? Imagine your dick down his throat.”
Trey panted and groaned, eyes clamped tight, lost in a rocking cradle of bliss. Hips pushed forward and then pushed back. Lost in the fluid movements and the savage tempo of the music his sensations morphed as Trey expanded and contracted like the rhythmic breathing of a diaphragm. A hum spread beneath his skin, the vibrations increased as the finger rubbed his prostate and threw electric sparks throughout his body. Riding the razors edge, he needed something more, something to bring on his orgasm and shatter him into a million sated pieces. Gasping for breath, Trey’s pleas were lost in the raging music. Just as Trey thought he’d spend a frustration-filled eternity working to get off, another finger was shoved in next to the first followed quickly by a third. Trey’s chest bellowed, air rushed his lungs and, like an explosion, rushed out. Before a sound could escape, a large hand clamped over his mouth, containing the scream that went on and on as Trey’s balls emptied into his pants.
Feeling as if he’d been thrown into water and didn’t know which way was up, Trey flailed to right himself. He didn’t know if he was floating or falling. The racing thud of his heart drowned out sound, and his eyes refused to open. The hard plane and hands that had been holding him up disappeared and he was definitely falling...into the darkness...alone. Before he crashed, arms wrapped tight around him. “I gotcha,” the honey smooth voice declared as Trey continued his journey into darkness.
* * * *
Trey felt like road kill that had been baking under the broiling sun on tar black asphalt. He sniffed. God, he even smelled like road kill. What in the hell had he been doing and where the hell was—
An icy spray pelted his skin and he screamed, trying to back away, but strong hands held him still. He opened his eyes, blinded by water and bright lights. An evil chuckle echoed in the space around him. He flailed and his feet slipped. When he reached out, he only grabbed air. The strong arms wrapped around his stomach, saving him from falling.
“Calm down,” the deep voice demanded.
“What...What...the fuck?” Trey sputtered, trying to move his head from the arctic water beating on him, but a hand continually forced him back under. “Let me go!”
His struggle was fruitless. His muscles were slack and lacked strength. His head dropped forward, and he blinked his eyes repeatedly to clear the blurred vision. He was still wearing his black dress pants, but the expensive silk shirt, his socks and the black leather shoes he’d worn for his party were missing. Two arms covered in dark hair wrapped tight around his middle. Bile pushed up from his stomach, and the floor started to move and tilt. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he was going to lose whatever was in his stomach. He heaved and then swallowed repeatedly.
“You gonna be sick?”
Trey shook his head as his stomach clenched. He nodded. The arms yanked him from beneath the spray of water, and stuffed his head into the toilet. He fought his stomach because he truly hated throwing up. He’d rather get his tooth drilled. More heaving and he swallowed hard.
“Don’t fight it. You were drugged and you need to get whatever’s in there out.” The man’s arms remained around his stomach then with a sharp upward thrust, those forearms pushed into Trey’s stomach.
Air rushed from his lungs and Trey gasped. “Son of a—”
Trey gagged and then threw up everything in his stomach. It wouldn’t have surprised him to find his toenails in the bowl. The arms disappeared, and Trey slumped over the bowl, lacking the strength to move his face away from the foul smelling water. He continued to heave, but nothing more came out.
A wet cloth appeared by his face. Trey lifted a shaky hand, taking the cloth and wiping his mouth and—ewww—his chin. The hand took the cloth, and a bottle of water appeared. Gratefully, he swished the water in his mouth and then spit it into the toilet. He felt like falling in and flushing himself.
Drugged. Shit, it must have been the big guy and the twink. What the hell had they given him?
A towel draped over his back, and the warmth against his icy skin passed a shudder through him. The iciness crawled through his body and the shudder turned into a trembling shiver. Soon his teeth were chattering and his vision fogged again. Fuck, maybe he needed to go to the hospital.
Hands burrowed under his arms and lifted him. “Come on. You need to get out of those wet clothes and into something dry.”
Trey tried to rise, but his shaky legs gave out and his vision darkened. He didn’t pass out, but he wasn’t able to respond as the man bent down and chucked him over his shoulder. He wanted to ask all sorts of who, what and where questions, but the muscles in his jaw were busy rattling his teeth.
Dumped carefully onto a bed, Trey tried to focus on the face hovering over him, but it was useless. Trying to focus only turned his stomach. He lay limp and useless as the man stripped him of his clothes, and Trey thought about the dangerousness of the situation. This man could do anything to him, and Trey would have to lie there and take it. The panic filling his mind had no outlet. He couldn’t speak or move. Apparently, enough of the drug had been absorbed into his system.
Despite his fears, the man redressed him, flopping Trey around like a wet noodle. The heat of the clothes soaked into Trey’s skin, but the cold had infiltrated his bones and his muscles shook in an attempt to warm him.
Trey forced his mind and mouth and vocal cords to cooperate and managed to say, “C-c-c-old.”
“Get under the covers. You’re shaking like crazy. Sorry about the cold shower, but you passed out in my living room, and I had to wake you up.”
Trey couldn’t remember anything after The Cove. Again, with some manhandling, the man got Trey settled on a pillow and covered him. Trey opened his eyes to darkness and his breath hitched. He hated the dark. Hated it with a passion and now, being unable to move, he felt trapped.
He started as a body molded to his back, the heat soaking through his clothes. “Calm down. I’m right here. I imagine the drugs doing a good job on your head, but you’re going to be okay. My body heat will help warm you up.”
The voice was smooth and composed, and Trey had no choice but to believe the words. An arm worked its way under Trey’s head and another wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against a hard chest. He thought he should protest, but God, the gesture rushed him with a feeling of safety he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Donnie had never elicited that reaction in Trey.
The hand on his stomach started to rub small soothing circles, and Trey heard a loud sigh escape his own lips. He shivering slowed as the heat reached his core. He frowned when a cheek rubbed over his hair.
“I was so scared tonight when you passed out on me,” the man whispered into the darkness. Was that confession meant for Trey’s ears? Did the man think he was sleeping? “You’ll never have any idea how I feel about you. I wish I could tell you.”
Those words...Trey had to remember them. Somehow, he knew they were very important, life changing. He fought the overwhelming exhaustion spilling over him, coating every cell in his body, trying to pull him under. He wanted to ask where, when and why, but he was so damn tired.
He managed to turn his head. He wanted to let this person know he was listening, wanted to respond. The hand on his stomach continued the repetitive circles and something familiar assaulted his senses. A smell sparked a memory, which he tried unsuccessfully to chase through jumbled thoughts.
The man released a breath he must have been holding. The hand on Trey’s stomach disappeared and then rested against Trey’s cheek, gently turning his head. For a brief second, an anticipatory silence filled the room with only the whispered sounds of their breaths audible. A feather soft touch brushed Trey’s lips, gentle and undemanding, and his stomach flipped with the desire fighting to surface. The sensation lingered, but then mixed with the feeling that he was floating then crashing. He could no longer fight off the encroaching sleep.
The lips pulled away and Trey’s lips cooled.
“I love you, Trey.”
Oh, shit, he thought before he plunged into the depths of sleep.
* * * *
Trey fought to pull himself from the heaviness of sleep. He had to claw and fight to surface and something niggled at the back of his brain. Something had changed. Something was different, and he tried to pull together the fragmented thoughts. Donnie. Donnie in their bed. Donnie in their bed during his birthday party. Donnie in their bed fucking their friend Seth. Donnie wrapping his arms around Seth, telling Trey that he loved Seth.
Yeah, something had definitely fucking changed. Trey squeezed his eyes against the tears burning his eyes. His chest constricted, and he couldn’t breathe. He’d been with Donnie for three years. Successful, powerful, confident Donnie. Trey had been in it forever, but apparently Donnie had only been hanging out until he’d found someone to love. Donnie had never told Trey that he loved him, not once. Trey had assumed Donnie felt the same as he did. Trey had taken it for granted that Donnie loved him. Fuck, he was an idiot.
Trey wanted claim ignorance, but he couldn’t lie to himself. What had started out as a burning hot, torrid month of sex and dating had quickly settled into what Trey had considered a relationship—in terms of what he knew a relationship to be. Now that he looked back, he had to face the truth head on, and the slap it delivered across his face stung deep. The lack of touching, the lack of intimate gestures, the lack of caring behavior, well, those had all mirrored the relationship his parent shared. And when he thought about it, his parents had never appeared to be happy, had never appeared to be in love. Cohabitants were how he’d describe them. Ah, shit. He’d been Donnie’s roommate with benefits and a guaranteed date for parties and work functions.
Trey buried his head into the soft pillow, and the scent sparked his confusion. Turning onto his back, he cracked open one eye. Sunlight filled the room he’d never seen before. He was in a large bedroom with chocolate covered walls, lying in a massive sleigh bed made of dark wood. An obscenely large flat screen TV covered one wall, and across from that, a bank of French doors covered the other wall. Had he fallen down a rabbit hole? No way was he with that burly dude from the bar. That man had low rent and pleather furniture written all over him.
The memory of being drugged hit him brought him upright. He ignored his pounding head and churning stomach. Every muscle ached as if he’d toiled an entire day in manual labor. Where was he? What had happened? He wiggled his butt. Not sore. No ache. He sighed heavily with relief. No one had fucked him last night. No one had fucked him for over two weeks. Now he knew why Donnie never wanted to have sex anymore. He was busy banging Seth. Fuck heads.
He turned and found the bed empty. No one was there with him, but he had expected someone to be there and didn’t know why. He squinted to see the photos on the large dresser across the room, but his gritty and sticky eyes wouldn’t cooperate. His mouth was dry and tasted as if he’d been chewing on rotten garbage. He’d sell his soul for a drink of water. Turning his head, he found two unopened bottles on the nightstand. He grabbed one and sucked it dry. Placing the empty bottle onto the nightstand, he threw the covers off his legs. He was wearing someone else’s black T-shirt and grey sweats. He pushed a tentative hand into the sweats. Shit, his briefs were gone. Okay. Someone had seen him naked. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Just as he was about to push off the oversized bed, the door to the bedroom opened. Trey squinted at the figure. He blinked again, trying to clear the fuzzy vision. Not too tall, blondish hair, curly on the top. Round face.
“Happy Birthday, sleeping beauty.” That voice.
Yup, awesome birthday, Trey thought then the voice registered with the fuzzy vision of the man. Trey shook his head and smiled. “Thank fuck,” Trey said with a relieved chuckle. Daryl. He was at Daryl’s house. Just how he had gotten there, he didn’t give a shit about at that moment.
A loud snort filled the air. “There should be a thank you in there as well. I saved your sorry ass. What the fuck were you doing with Gunther and his boy toy, Evan? Those two are notorious for drugging men and doing some nasty shit. Luckily, I grabbed you before they got you out of there.”
Fuck. He lowered his head into his hands. He didn’t know who Gunther and his boy toy were, but he was slowly getting back bits and pieces of practically being fucked on the dance floor. His cheeks heated and his embarrassment was undeniable. It had been a couple of years since he’d even been to that bar. Last night, he’d gone to the Cove to forget the entire awful evening, to forget Donnie humiliating him, to forget that he was alone, again. God, he deserved what had happened. He clenched his jaw tight and squeezed his eyes. No way was he going to cry like a baby—especially in front of Daryl.
“Hey.” Daryl stood in front of him, wearing his usual button up shirt, cargo pants and loafers. “You need help to get to the bathroom?”
The slight hint of amusement in Daryl’s voice caught Trey’s attention. Trey raised his chin and perused Daryl’s unremarkable, average body, his rounded face, plump lips and blue eyes. Daryl had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Trey furrowed his brow, trying to remember anything after the bar. Something was trying to surface, something he was supposed to remember, something important. Trey blinked and shook his head, as if the actions would bring the memory bobbing to the surface.
“How did I end up here?” Trey asked.
Daryl ducked his head in his usual shy manner, focusing on his shoes, twisting his hands together. Trey noticed a nasty bruise across the knuckles of Daryl’s left hand, but he didn’t ask how it had gotten there. Trey had met Daryl when Trey had started working for a large construction firm. Daryl was the CPA and Trey a site foreman. They often had to meet about budgets and issues with money for different jobs. They found that they both liked baseball and despite being fans of rival teams—Daryl liked the Red Sox and Trey the Yankees—they’d settled comfortably into a friendship. Donnie didn’t like Daryl, saying that Daryl was weak-willed and wishy-washy. Another strike against Donnie.
Daryl sighed. “When you left the party, I knew it was because of something Donnie did. I went to find him...I knew...I mean he was always suck a jerk to you.”
Daryl’s voice had lost some of its original confidence. He didn’t have the best self-esteem. Trey had tried to fix him up with women, but when it came to talking to them, Daryl got that deer frozen in the headlights look. He could act like such a spaz sometimes, but when it was just the two of them, he was different, relaxed, open—nice. The total opposite of Donnie.
“I found him in your bedroom with his hands all over Seth.” Daryl’s voice took on a surprising force, and a fire lit in his blue eyes as he clenched his fists at this side. Trey raised an eyebrow at the transformation. “You saw him didn’t you? You saw that asshole with Seth and that’s why you left.”
Trey rubbed at the pain in his chest with the vision of Donnie bucking into Seth on their bed. He managed a nod.
Daryl scowled. Trey was sure he’d never seen that expression on his friends face. His expression was generally jovial and pleasant, maybe too pleasant, maybe too jovial. Now, seeing any emotion covering Daryl’s face, real emotion, Trey recognized that jovial and pleasant expression for what it was...a mask. Shit, Trey felt as if he didn’t really know Daryl at all.
Daryl paced, continuing to seethe, continuing to spit and sputter his obvious hatred for Donnie that went deeper than the incident at the party. “Fucking asshole!”
Trey snorted, and Daryl turned on him with wild eyes. Trey cringed. “Sorry. You just never swear.”
Daryl shook his head. “Yeah, well I call a spade a spade. I can’t believe he did that to you during your fucking birthday party. You were having a good time for a change. You were laughing and talking and then he had to ruin it for you. You didn’t deserve that!”
Trey worked to process the words. “You were having a good time for a change.” Did he usually have a bad time? Memories of parties and events and baseball games...Sure, he’d had fun, except...except for when Donnie was around. Donnie was constantly on Trey’s back about what he said, how he stood, what he wore, how he made Donnie look around others. More than once Donnie had accused Trey of embarrassing him. Trey had tried hard to live up to Donnie’s expectations but had failed consistently. He lowered his head.
“He pissed me off,” Daryl continued in his irate tone, “so I punched him in the face.”
Trey’s head shot up. “You hit Donnie?” Donnie had about four inches and twenty pounds of muscle on Daryl. Except for the bruise to his knuckles, Daryl looked unharmed. Donnie would never have let anyone get away with punching him in the face due to the embarrassment factor alone.
Daryl nodded, hands on hips, his entire body holding his defiance.
“And you’re still alive?”
Daryl scoffed and then his face softened and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I was prepared to die.” He shrugged.
“Why did you hit him?” Daryl’s confusing behavior was throwing Trey into so many different directions.
Daryl sighed, a load of bravado escaping with that breath, and his body seemed to deflate. His eyes flicked down to look at the carpet. “Because he fucked up your birthday. He cheated on you and...He hurt you.” The once confident voice wavered again, and the corners of his mouth fell.
Trey didn’t know what to say to that and after an uncomfortable silence, Daryl said, “I’ll go and get you something to settle your stomach.” Before Trey could utter a word, his friend left.
Trey sighed and rubbed at his temple. Yesterday morning, his life had been chugging along on an even keel—and now—his world had been flipped and shaken and resembled nothing he’d known. Standing on shaky legs, he went to the bathroom, trying to walk straight as the floor tipped and tilted. He relieved himself, washed his pale face and ran some toothpaste over his teeth with a finger. He passed for almost dead at that point.
Daryl hadn’t returned to the bedroom when Trey had finished so Trey went to find him. Down the hall, Trey entered the familiar living room filled with leather furniture and another large flat screen on the wall. Trey had been here dozens of time to watch baseball games. Daryl had a sweet surround system that made watching the game an awesome experience.
Daryl wasn’t in the living room. When Trey turned toward the direction of the kitchen, he saw Daryl. A large granite topped island, separated the kitchen from the living room. Daryl was standing on the other side in front of the sink, his back to Trey, but Daryl wasn’t moving. His head was lowered and the stillness of his body kind of freaked Trey out. Just as Trey was about to say his name, Daryl drew in a deep shuddering breath and released it slowly. The set of his shoulders, the shudder, made Trey think Daryl was more upset than he’d thought. Yeah, what Donnie had done sucked, but Trey was beginning to believe it wasn’t as horrible as he’d first believed. He hated to be alone, but wasn’t it worse to be with someone who didn’t love you?
I love you.
Trey’s hand covered his heart as a gentle heat blossomed beneath his breastbone. Someone had told Trey that they loved him—recently. Definitely hadn’t been Donnie. The feeling of arms encircling him, the whisper of soft words, the feeling of heat and desire and lips, caressing and soft. Trey ran his fingertips over the tingle ghosting over his lips. Trey raised his chin, eyes focused on Daryl. His friend. No, his best friend. The person he felt the most comfortable with in the world. The person who Trey shared everything with and who supported Trey, cheered him on and looked at Trey as if he mattered.
Fuck.
“You’ll never have any idea how I feel about you. I wish I could tell you.”
“I love you.”
Oh, hell. Daryl loved him? Wanted him? Daryl was gay? Truthfully, Trey had always assumed Daryl was into women. Yet, Trey had never seen Daryl with a woman or a man for that fact. Daryl spent all of his free time with Trey so...Trey slapped his hand against his forehead. Duh!
Hearing the noise, Daryl turned, the surprise apparent on his face, however he quickly schooled his features. The mask was back. His friend was good at that.
Daryl walked around the counter and held out a glass of something fizzy. “Here. It’s ginger ale. It’s all I got.”
Trey took the glass and sipped. The bubbles tickled his nose and he sneezed. “Thanks,” Trey said. “And thanks for everything else. Things got a little out of control last night.”
Daryl nodded. “It’s what friends do.”
Trey surveyed Daryl’s eyes, his face, and his mouth. The mask was there, but it was cracking, fading. The effort to keep it there must be immense. Trey really looked at Daryl who squirmed under his scrutiny. Why hadn’t he seen it? It the truth was written all over Daryl’s face, plain as day, and Trey had been so wrapped around Donnie, he’d never seen it. And wasn’t he a shit for that.
Trey stepped closer to Daryl. His friend was so different from Donnie—beautiful, muscled, tanned Donnie who looked as if he’d walked right off of GQ. Daryl looked as if he’d walked off the cover of a CPA magazine. Yet, beneath the exterior beat a fucking heart of gold, a loyal friend, a loving son, a dedicated worker, a real man who never said a bad word about another human being in his entire life. And he loved Trey—fucked up Trey, who couldn’t get beautiful Donnie to love him.
Daryl stepped back as Trey continued to advance on him. Daryl licked nervously at his lips and continued his retreat until he backed into the island. His eyes widened as Trey stepped up and they were toe to toe.
Trey leaned down and set his drink on the counter by Daryl’s arm then stood up and studied Daryl. In those blue eyes, he saw longing, the desire and the love. Trey reached his hand up and ran a finger down Daryl’s cheek. A visible shudder ran through his friend’s body, and suddenly Trey had visions of kissing Daryl’s plump lips, running his hands over bare skin, fucking Daryl on the counter, over the couch, in his bed. What would have been ludicrous just yesterday was now logical and made perfect sense.
Daryl worked hard to retain that mask, and managed a chuckle. He pointed over his shoulder. “I got you a cake.”
Trey raised his eyebrows, but didn’t take his eyes from Daryl, didn’t stop caressing his cheek. “Of course you did. You’re always doing nice shit for me. Bringing me coffee on the site, packing an extra lunch for me and reminding to eat, calling to check on me...”
Trey moved his feet to the outside of Daryl’s so he could get closer and press their bodies together. Daryl’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, but he didn’t move away.
Trey ran his fingers through Daryl’s blond curls. Daryl closed his eyes, leaned into the touch and sighed, practically melting into Trey. When Trey ran the hand down Daryl’s neck and over his chest, Daryl bit his bottom lip and tried to suppress a moan.
“Do you have something to tell me?” Trey whispered.
Daryl shifted nervously. “I-I forgot the ice cream?”
Trey chuckled and pushed harder against Daryl and their bulges lined up perfectly. They were about the same height. Daryl probably had an inch on Trey.
“What...what’re you doing?” Daryl asked with a raspy whisper.
“You have something to tell me,” Trey said, and rubbed his thumb over the hard nub of Daryl’s nipple through his shirt. Daryl hissed and Trey swore he heard a whimper. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“I don’t...know what you...want,” Daryl said, a deep moan escaping, his eyes closing for a moment as Trey pinched the nipple.
Trey brushed their lips together, a feather light whisper that rushed heat to Trey’s groin. This was Daryl, his best friend and Trey was so turned on. Why hadn’t this happened before? How long had Daryl felt this way?
Trey pulled Daryl’s bottom lip in between his teeth. Biting down, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Daryl. He released the lip and soothed the spot. Tension coiled Daryl’s muscles. He was holding back, restraining his reaction.
Trey ran his hands over Daryl’s back, kneading the muscles, soothing the man. Daryl was shaking, probably from a combination of excitement and terror. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Trey said, echoing the words he’d heard last night from Daryl.
An overwhelming urge to protect the man, keep him safe, make him feel good, smacked into Trey. God, Daryl deserved it, deserved to be the center of someone’s world. Trey nuzzled Daryl’s neck, licking and sucking, as he pushed against Daryl’s erection. Daryl’s hands were still gripping the edge of the counter. Trey knew Daryl didn’t trust what was happening and feared reaching out only to lose what he so desperately wanted. Trey knew this about Daryl. God, he did know a lot about Daryl, except for the fact that the blond-haired man loved him.
Trey put his mouth next to Daryl’s ear and rested a hand against the side of Daryl’s neck. Daryl’s pulse beat rapidly against Trey’s palm; Daryl’s shallow breaths pushed against Trey’s chest, and Daryl’s hard, erect cock dug into Trey’s groin.
“Last night, you told me I’d never know how you felt about me and wished you could tell me,” Trey whispered.
Daryl immediately shook his head as he struggled to lean back, but Trey wrapped a hand around his neck and steadied him. Trey pulled their foreheads together. “You said you loved me,” Trey whispered. “Is it true, Daryl? Do you love me?”
Daryl searched Trey’s eyes and Trey saw the hesitation, the fear. Daryl had too much to lose. Trey had to prove it was safe for him to say it again.
“Don’t answer that yet,” Trey said, sealing his mouth over Daryl’s plump lips and parting the seam with his tongue. Trey’s head rose and fell over the undulating rhythm of their kiss. Any thoughts about needing to wrap his brain around kissing Daryl fled. This felt so right. They fit perfectly.
Daryl still had a death grip on the counter. Trey had to relax him, get him to open up and enjoy what they were doing. Trey continued to kiss Daryl and soon Daryl gave more as his tongue flicked out into Trey’s mouth.
“Fuck, you taste good,” Trey said between kisses.
Daryl deepened the kiss, but still no hands.
Trey yanked up Daryl’s T-shirt and attacked his nipple. In a heartbeat, Daryl’s hands were in Trey’s hair, tugging, and the sting pushed Trey to suck harder. Trey moved to the other nipple, reached down and yanked open Daryl’s belt, popped open the button, and then pulled down the zipper. Instantly, the cloth-covered bulge was in Trey’s hand. Daryl’s hips bucked slightly. The man’s chest heaved under Trey’s mouth and their sharp breaths filled the air.
Trey kissed his way down Daryl’s soft stomach, licking over the trail of hair beneath his belly button. Peeling back the white briefs, the red head of Daryl’s cock was right in Trey’s face. Licking his lips, Trey imagined Daryl’s shaft deep inside of him, but not this time. Trey was going to fuck Daryl until he screamed his confession. Trey mouthed at the spongy head and Daryl pushed forward.
A low groan filled the air. “F-feels so good,” Daryl panted as he petted Trey’s head.
Trey smiled around the head then slid down the rigid shaft until the head bumped his throat. Daryl’s hand clutched and released Trey’s hair repeatedly. His new lover was fighting to remain in control. Trey so wanted him to lose it, but not yet.
The gasps and whimpers from Daryl filled the air and Trey pushed his palm against his own hard cock to knock back his orgasm. Shit, he was going to cum just from sucking Daryl off. It had been years since Trey had experienced hot, can’t-get-enough, cum-in-my-pants sex. How had he gone so long without it and why? The jolt of pleasure tightened his balls as he pushed a palm against his cock again. The hands in Trey’s hair tightened, causing tears to sting his eyes. Trey pulled off Daryl’s cock, panting, and willing the tingling in his groin to back off.
Daryl’s hands tried to pull Trey’s head back to his dripping dick, but Trey stood and plunged into Daryl’s mouth, thrusting his tongue in and out. Unlike their first kiss, Daryl wrapped his arms tight around Trey, rubbing and caressing. Daryl’s hands squeezed Trey’s ass, eliciting a satisfied “mmmmm” from Trey.
Reluctantly, Trey broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Daryl’s, trying to slow down and make it last.
“I want you,” Trey whispered. “Please, let me fuck you.”
Daryl’s eyes grew wide and pulled his head back. “Um...it’s been a while.”
“How long of a while?” Trey asked, licking the side of Daryl’s neck.
“Three years.”
Trey lifted his head. Those blue eyes searched Trey’s imploringly. Daryl wanted him, wanted Trey, but he was scared. Trey would be scared after three years, too.
He rubbed a palm over Daryl’s cheek and Daryl turned into the touch. God, he was starved for affection.
“I’ll be very careful, baby. I promise.”
Daryl bit down on a trembling lip, his eyes shiny, no doubt overwhelmed by the endearment. Daryl nodded his head and a ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Trey smiled wide and kissed him before he grabbed Daryl’s hand and practically dragged the man into the bedroom.
With swift efficiency, Trey stripped Daryl. Daryl wrapped his arms around his naked waist and turned his head away. The expression on Daryl’s face confused Trey. “Did you change your mind? If you don’t want to...”
Daryl shook his head. “No, I want to. It’s just...” The redness in his face, the inability to look Trey in the eyes—was he embarrassed? “My body. It’s not...You like muscular guys like Donnie.”
Trey closed his eyes and breathed deep as a knife plunged into his chest. The pain in Daryl’s blue eyes— he never wanted to see it again.
“Daryl, look at me.” When Daryl didn’t move Trey cupped his face and turned his head until Daryl had to look at Trey. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I didn’t know how you felt. I’m such a shit. I should have known and I’m sorry. Please forgive me. You’re perfect.”
Daryl’s lip trembled again, and he sniffed as a tear escaped the corner of his eye. Trey wiped the stray tear with the tip of his finger.
“I will make it up to you. I promise.” Trey sealed the vow with a searing kiss that curled his own toes. Daryl lunged at Trey, swinging him around and pushing him onto the bed. Trey flailed as he fell backward then chuckled as Daryl divulged him of his remaining clothing with amazing speed. Trey laughed as Daryl opened the nightstand drawer and tossed a huge bottle of lube and a strip of condoms at him.
Trey held up the strip. “This should get us through the night. Come here, baby.”
Daryl smirked and climbed up and straddled Trey’s hips. Trey grabbed the lube and coated his fingers. Reaching beneath Daryl, he rubbed against the small opening. Daryl stiffened then slowly relaxed. Daryl leaned forward and placed his hands onto the bed on either side of Trey’s head, initiating a kiss. That sweet mouth was tentative, but gained confidence and was soon sucking and licking at Trey’s lips.
Trey pressed a finger into Daryl and they both stilled. Daryl’s hot breath fanned Trey’s face. Slowly, Daryl began to rock on the finger. Trey grasped Daryl’s dick with his other hand and let Daryl’s rocking push the cock into his fist.
With his eyes clamped shut, the concentration apparent on his face, Daryl continued to rock, increasing his pace. Whimpers of pleasure escaped as Daryl pushed onto the fingers and into the fist. Trey added another finger, stretching the digits until he could fit another finger. Never had he imagined he’d be fucking his best friend. Now it was all he wanted to do.
Daryl’s thrusts became erratic and while Trey wanted him out of his mind, he wanted inside of him. Trey pulled his fingers out and Daryl fell forward, his head resting on Trey’s chest, panting. Trey grabbed the condom and ripped it open with his teeth. By feel, he rolled the condom on not wanting to move Daryl. Before he could reach for the lube, Daryl snatched the tube and squirted it on his palm. Reaching back, he rubbed the lube over Trey’s sensitive cock, pulling a hiss from Trey’s lips.
A mischievous grin crossed Daryl’s face. He lifted up and reached back, lining up with Trey’s cock and lowering himself, slowly. Trey grabbed Daryl’s hips to keep him from going too fast. He didn’t want to hurt him. The intense concentration was back on Daryl’s face, and Trey watched for any sign of discomfort, but he found none. With a moan, Daryl's ass settled on Trey’s groin. Trey gritted his teeth, willing his hips to remain still, waiting for Daryl to signal he was ready.
Daryl wiggled his butt and writhed on Trey’s cock, and that was all the sign Trey needed. Trey pulled Daryl’s hips down and pushed up with his hips, reveling in the hitch in Daryl’s breath. Trey wasn’t going to last. He hadn’t topped since he’d been with the Donnie who never bottomed. Donnie didn’t even suck dick either. God, why had Trey put up with that shit?
Enough, he told himself. Daryl was here. Daryl loved him and felt awesome and tight bouncing up and down on Trey’s dick as Daryl. Short whimpering pants came from Daryl with each of Trey’s thrusts. The lust and pleasure covering his friend’s—lover’s—face was beautiful. Daryl was beautiful. With that thought, Daryl opened his eyes and a tight band clamped tight around Trey’s chest. The trust, the openness, the need in those pools of blue hit him hard, and Trey couldn’t look away.
Thrusting harder and faster, heat bloomed in Trey’s gut, traveling through his body, sweat covering his skin. He could fuck Daryl forever. He never wanted it to end. He wouldn’t let it.
Trey reached up and laid a hand on Daryl’s cheek. Daryl closed his eyes nuzzling his palm. He vowed right then, right there, to do anything to keep that mask off Daryl’s face and to see the real man. The real man Trey loved. Trey loved him as a friend and now that was turning into true love—all thanks to that fuck head Donnie. He’d have to send him a thank you note.
Daryl moaned, his head falling back on his shoulders. Trey was close and he wanted Daryl to go first.
He grasped Daryl’s cock, pulling hard, and the moans turned into one long groan. The pace increased and the slapping of skin echoed in the room. Daryl’s head fell forward, his mouth slack, his shoulders hunching, stomach muscles contracting.
“Baby,” Trey gasped, his balls tightening, his jaw clenching.
Daryl fell forward, his hands on Trey’s chest, elbows locked. “Trey...I love you!” Daryl cried out as creamy, hot spunk shot across Trey’s chest. The pulsing muscle around Trey’s cock sent an electric shock into his balls. Trey thrust up hard, and then again, and he was cumming, his hands grasping Daryl’s hips, pulling him down hard. “Fuck, yes!”
Clamping his eyes shut against the overwhelming emotions, Trey’s hands fumbled and found Daryl’s shoulders and pulled him down to his chest. Clutching him tight, Trey gulped air. There wasn’t enough air.
A hand stroked Trey’s hair. “Trey? It’s okay, hon. Just breathe.” The hand moved to Trey’s chest and settled over his heart and calm passed into Trey’s body. “Are you okay?” Daryl’s voice was uncertain, wavering.
Trey opened his eyes to that uncertainty and nodded. “It was just...It was intense, you know?”
Daryl nodded, still searching Trey’s face for any indication of what he was truly feeling then Daryl nodded again and tried to climb off Trey. Grasping Daryl’s arms, Trey stopped him. Daryl cocked his head with a questioning gaze.
“I love you, too.” There Trey had said it and he meant it. Every word.
“Yeah?” There was a small play of a smile on Daryl’s lips.
“Yeah,” Trey said, poking Daryl in the stomach.
Daryl grabbed Trey’s wrists and stretched his arms over his head, pinning them to the mattress. Trey made a mock attempt to struggle then smiled.
Daryl leaned down, his face inches from Trey. “Happy Birthday, Trey.” With that, Daryl met Trey’s lips in a kiss filled with love and desire and contentment. A peace unlike Trey had ever felt before expanded and filled his body. Daryl was Trey's greatest gift. ##
Warning: Contains explicit sex scenes between two men.
Copyright 2103 JC Wallace
~~~~~~~~~ The thrumming beat of the music hummed through Trey’s bones, while dozens of hot sweaty bodies, ripe for the picking, writhed on the dance floor. Groins and hard muscles ground and rubbed and rutted against one another in a homoerotic mating dance. God, Trey needed this. Shirt off, pants slung low over his hips, Trey reveled in the heated touches, the slide of skin against skin, the dirty words whispered against his ears. The arousing scent of musk and sweat filled his nostrils, conjuring images of his face buried in someone’s ass, sucking and biting, his tongue fucking their hole. Shit, he hadn’t thought he could get any harder.
In front of him, a pretty, little blond twink humped against his thigh, but he wasn’t what Trey needed tonight. No, he needed someone to push him against a wall and fuck him so hard he’d feel the burn for a week. That someone was currently behind him, hands gripped tight on his hips, an impressive bulge grinding into the crack of his ass, sending throngs of heat through his groin. Leaning back against the bare, hard chest, Trey slung his arms around the anonymous man’s neck. Reaching around him, the strong hands previously on Trey’s hips pulled the writhing twink against Trey’s groin. Friction sparked as thrusts from behind jammed Trey’s pulsing cock against the hard stomach in front.
Trey felt stoned, flying with the music. His skin tingled with every touch. He had no idea who these two men were, but they were definitely a study in opposites, living on different ends of the manliness scale. But, oh, they were the perfect presents to soothe his wounded pride and help him forget the suckiest day of his life. Yeah, it had sucked big time, but that had changed once he’d stepped into The Cove, the hottest gay bar on the south side. And, fuck, if he hadn’t hit the jackpot. The big guy was going to fuck Trey until he screamed for mercy, and the blond was going to suck Trey’s brains out through his cock. And Trey was going to forget all about Donnie dumping him earlier that night during his twenty-eighth birthday party. His now ex-boyfriend had planned Trey’s party, invited a shitload of people then had dumped Trey in the worst possible way in the middle of it all. Trey tried to block out his guilt of pushing past his best friend and co-worker Daryl on the way out. He clamped his eyes shut at the pained look in the man’s eyes, but if Trey hadn’t escaped that apartment, he would have lost it. He shook his head to rid himself of the vision.
The man behind him, reached up, and hooked the blond’s head, pulling his face toward Trey. Wide, glassy eyes reflected the colored lights pulsing to the music. A lopsided grin met Trey’s lips and as Trey closed his eyes, a wet tongue forced its way into his mouth. Trey opened and the young man started eating and grinding against Trey’s lips in rhythm with his hips. A gravelly voice spoke into his ear, “That’s it. Kiss that bitch. So fucking hot.”
Hot lust exploded from every cell in Trey’s body, and he attacked the supple mouth, eliciting a moan that vibrated across his tongue. Thrusts against Trey’s ass increased as teeth nipped at the skin of Trey’s neck, and a slick tongue left cooling trails on his burning skin. Inside of him, a wild torrent was building momentum, growing and expanding, too massive to be contained within his skin.
“I think I’ll rip your jeans off and stuff my cock in right here,” the man growled.
Trey’s gut clenched, and he whimpered into the blond-haired man’s mouth. Raising his hand, the big man pushed the twink’s head to Trey’s chest where he greedily latched onto a nipple, sucking for all he was worth. Trey hissed and arched his back. A hand shoved into the back of Trey’s pants and a dry finger plunged into his greedy hole. Trey pushed back, forcing the finger in farther.
“You are such a slut for it, aren’t ya? And what about the kid? Got quite the mouth, huh? Imagine your dick down his throat.”
Trey panted and groaned, eyes clamped tight, lost in a rocking cradle of bliss. Hips pushed forward and then pushed back. Lost in the fluid movements and the savage tempo of the music his sensations morphed as Trey expanded and contracted like the rhythmic breathing of a diaphragm. A hum spread beneath his skin, the vibrations increased as the finger rubbed his prostate and threw electric sparks throughout his body. Riding the razors edge, he needed something more, something to bring on his orgasm and shatter him into a million sated pieces. Gasping for breath, Trey’s pleas were lost in the raging music. Just as Trey thought he’d spend a frustration-filled eternity working to get off, another finger was shoved in next to the first followed quickly by a third. Trey’s chest bellowed, air rushed his lungs and, like an explosion, rushed out. Before a sound could escape, a large hand clamped over his mouth, containing the scream that went on and on as Trey’s balls emptied into his pants.
Feeling as if he’d been thrown into water and didn’t know which way was up, Trey flailed to right himself. He didn’t know if he was floating or falling. The racing thud of his heart drowned out sound, and his eyes refused to open. The hard plane and hands that had been holding him up disappeared and he was definitely falling...into the darkness...alone. Before he crashed, arms wrapped tight around him. “I gotcha,” the honey smooth voice declared as Trey continued his journey into darkness.
* * * *
Trey felt like road kill that had been baking under the broiling sun on tar black asphalt. He sniffed. God, he even smelled like road kill. What in the hell had he been doing and where the hell was—
An icy spray pelted his skin and he screamed, trying to back away, but strong hands held him still. He opened his eyes, blinded by water and bright lights. An evil chuckle echoed in the space around him. He flailed and his feet slipped. When he reached out, he only grabbed air. The strong arms wrapped around his stomach, saving him from falling.
“Calm down,” the deep voice demanded.
“What...What...the fuck?” Trey sputtered, trying to move his head from the arctic water beating on him, but a hand continually forced him back under. “Let me go!”
His struggle was fruitless. His muscles were slack and lacked strength. His head dropped forward, and he blinked his eyes repeatedly to clear the blurred vision. He was still wearing his black dress pants, but the expensive silk shirt, his socks and the black leather shoes he’d worn for his party were missing. Two arms covered in dark hair wrapped tight around his middle. Bile pushed up from his stomach, and the floor started to move and tilt. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he was going to lose whatever was in his stomach. He heaved and then swallowed repeatedly.
“You gonna be sick?”
Trey shook his head as his stomach clenched. He nodded. The arms yanked him from beneath the spray of water, and stuffed his head into the toilet. He fought his stomach because he truly hated throwing up. He’d rather get his tooth drilled. More heaving and he swallowed hard.
“Don’t fight it. You were drugged and you need to get whatever’s in there out.” The man’s arms remained around his stomach then with a sharp upward thrust, those forearms pushed into Trey’s stomach.
Air rushed from his lungs and Trey gasped. “Son of a—”
Trey gagged and then threw up everything in his stomach. It wouldn’t have surprised him to find his toenails in the bowl. The arms disappeared, and Trey slumped over the bowl, lacking the strength to move his face away from the foul smelling water. He continued to heave, but nothing more came out.
A wet cloth appeared by his face. Trey lifted a shaky hand, taking the cloth and wiping his mouth and—ewww—his chin. The hand took the cloth, and a bottle of water appeared. Gratefully, he swished the water in his mouth and then spit it into the toilet. He felt like falling in and flushing himself.
Drugged. Shit, it must have been the big guy and the twink. What the hell had they given him?
A towel draped over his back, and the warmth against his icy skin passed a shudder through him. The iciness crawled through his body and the shudder turned into a trembling shiver. Soon his teeth were chattering and his vision fogged again. Fuck, maybe he needed to go to the hospital.
Hands burrowed under his arms and lifted him. “Come on. You need to get out of those wet clothes and into something dry.”
Trey tried to rise, but his shaky legs gave out and his vision darkened. He didn’t pass out, but he wasn’t able to respond as the man bent down and chucked him over his shoulder. He wanted to ask all sorts of who, what and where questions, but the muscles in his jaw were busy rattling his teeth.
Dumped carefully onto a bed, Trey tried to focus on the face hovering over him, but it was useless. Trying to focus only turned his stomach. He lay limp and useless as the man stripped him of his clothes, and Trey thought about the dangerousness of the situation. This man could do anything to him, and Trey would have to lie there and take it. The panic filling his mind had no outlet. He couldn’t speak or move. Apparently, enough of the drug had been absorbed into his system.
Despite his fears, the man redressed him, flopping Trey around like a wet noodle. The heat of the clothes soaked into Trey’s skin, but the cold had infiltrated his bones and his muscles shook in an attempt to warm him.
Trey forced his mind and mouth and vocal cords to cooperate and managed to say, “C-c-c-old.”
“Get under the covers. You’re shaking like crazy. Sorry about the cold shower, but you passed out in my living room, and I had to wake you up.”
Trey couldn’t remember anything after The Cove. Again, with some manhandling, the man got Trey settled on a pillow and covered him. Trey opened his eyes to darkness and his breath hitched. He hated the dark. Hated it with a passion and now, being unable to move, he felt trapped.
He started as a body molded to his back, the heat soaking through his clothes. “Calm down. I’m right here. I imagine the drugs doing a good job on your head, but you’re going to be okay. My body heat will help warm you up.”
The voice was smooth and composed, and Trey had no choice but to believe the words. An arm worked its way under Trey’s head and another wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against a hard chest. He thought he should protest, but God, the gesture rushed him with a feeling of safety he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Donnie had never elicited that reaction in Trey.
The hand on his stomach started to rub small soothing circles, and Trey heard a loud sigh escape his own lips. He shivering slowed as the heat reached his core. He frowned when a cheek rubbed over his hair.
“I was so scared tonight when you passed out on me,” the man whispered into the darkness. Was that confession meant for Trey’s ears? Did the man think he was sleeping? “You’ll never have any idea how I feel about you. I wish I could tell you.”
Those words...Trey had to remember them. Somehow, he knew they were very important, life changing. He fought the overwhelming exhaustion spilling over him, coating every cell in his body, trying to pull him under. He wanted to ask where, when and why, but he was so damn tired.
He managed to turn his head. He wanted to let this person know he was listening, wanted to respond. The hand on his stomach continued the repetitive circles and something familiar assaulted his senses. A smell sparked a memory, which he tried unsuccessfully to chase through jumbled thoughts.
The man released a breath he must have been holding. The hand on Trey’s stomach disappeared and then rested against Trey’s cheek, gently turning his head. For a brief second, an anticipatory silence filled the room with only the whispered sounds of their breaths audible. A feather soft touch brushed Trey’s lips, gentle and undemanding, and his stomach flipped with the desire fighting to surface. The sensation lingered, but then mixed with the feeling that he was floating then crashing. He could no longer fight off the encroaching sleep.
The lips pulled away and Trey’s lips cooled.
“I love you, Trey.”
Oh, shit, he thought before he plunged into the depths of sleep.
* * * *
Trey fought to pull himself from the heaviness of sleep. He had to claw and fight to surface and something niggled at the back of his brain. Something had changed. Something was different, and he tried to pull together the fragmented thoughts. Donnie. Donnie in their bed. Donnie in their bed during his birthday party. Donnie in their bed fucking their friend Seth. Donnie wrapping his arms around Seth, telling Trey that he loved Seth.
Yeah, something had definitely fucking changed. Trey squeezed his eyes against the tears burning his eyes. His chest constricted, and he couldn’t breathe. He’d been with Donnie for three years. Successful, powerful, confident Donnie. Trey had been in it forever, but apparently Donnie had only been hanging out until he’d found someone to love. Donnie had never told Trey that he loved him, not once. Trey had assumed Donnie felt the same as he did. Trey had taken it for granted that Donnie loved him. Fuck, he was an idiot.
Trey wanted claim ignorance, but he couldn’t lie to himself. What had started out as a burning hot, torrid month of sex and dating had quickly settled into what Trey had considered a relationship—in terms of what he knew a relationship to be. Now that he looked back, he had to face the truth head on, and the slap it delivered across his face stung deep. The lack of touching, the lack of intimate gestures, the lack of caring behavior, well, those had all mirrored the relationship his parent shared. And when he thought about it, his parents had never appeared to be happy, had never appeared to be in love. Cohabitants were how he’d describe them. Ah, shit. He’d been Donnie’s roommate with benefits and a guaranteed date for parties and work functions.
Trey buried his head into the soft pillow, and the scent sparked his confusion. Turning onto his back, he cracked open one eye. Sunlight filled the room he’d never seen before. He was in a large bedroom with chocolate covered walls, lying in a massive sleigh bed made of dark wood. An obscenely large flat screen TV covered one wall, and across from that, a bank of French doors covered the other wall. Had he fallen down a rabbit hole? No way was he with that burly dude from the bar. That man had low rent and pleather furniture written all over him.
The memory of being drugged hit him brought him upright. He ignored his pounding head and churning stomach. Every muscle ached as if he’d toiled an entire day in manual labor. Where was he? What had happened? He wiggled his butt. Not sore. No ache. He sighed heavily with relief. No one had fucked him last night. No one had fucked him for over two weeks. Now he knew why Donnie never wanted to have sex anymore. He was busy banging Seth. Fuck heads.
He turned and found the bed empty. No one was there with him, but he had expected someone to be there and didn’t know why. He squinted to see the photos on the large dresser across the room, but his gritty and sticky eyes wouldn’t cooperate. His mouth was dry and tasted as if he’d been chewing on rotten garbage. He’d sell his soul for a drink of water. Turning his head, he found two unopened bottles on the nightstand. He grabbed one and sucked it dry. Placing the empty bottle onto the nightstand, he threw the covers off his legs. He was wearing someone else’s black T-shirt and grey sweats. He pushed a tentative hand into the sweats. Shit, his briefs were gone. Okay. Someone had seen him naked. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Just as he was about to push off the oversized bed, the door to the bedroom opened. Trey squinted at the figure. He blinked again, trying to clear the fuzzy vision. Not too tall, blondish hair, curly on the top. Round face.
“Happy Birthday, sleeping beauty.” That voice.
Yup, awesome birthday, Trey thought then the voice registered with the fuzzy vision of the man. Trey shook his head and smiled. “Thank fuck,” Trey said with a relieved chuckle. Daryl. He was at Daryl’s house. Just how he had gotten there, he didn’t give a shit about at that moment.
A loud snort filled the air. “There should be a thank you in there as well. I saved your sorry ass. What the fuck were you doing with Gunther and his boy toy, Evan? Those two are notorious for drugging men and doing some nasty shit. Luckily, I grabbed you before they got you out of there.”
Fuck. He lowered his head into his hands. He didn’t know who Gunther and his boy toy were, but he was slowly getting back bits and pieces of practically being fucked on the dance floor. His cheeks heated and his embarrassment was undeniable. It had been a couple of years since he’d even been to that bar. Last night, he’d gone to the Cove to forget the entire awful evening, to forget Donnie humiliating him, to forget that he was alone, again. God, he deserved what had happened. He clenched his jaw tight and squeezed his eyes. No way was he going to cry like a baby—especially in front of Daryl.
“Hey.” Daryl stood in front of him, wearing his usual button up shirt, cargo pants and loafers. “You need help to get to the bathroom?”
The slight hint of amusement in Daryl’s voice caught Trey’s attention. Trey raised his chin and perused Daryl’s unremarkable, average body, his rounded face, plump lips and blue eyes. Daryl had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Trey furrowed his brow, trying to remember anything after the bar. Something was trying to surface, something he was supposed to remember, something important. Trey blinked and shook his head, as if the actions would bring the memory bobbing to the surface.
“How did I end up here?” Trey asked.
Daryl ducked his head in his usual shy manner, focusing on his shoes, twisting his hands together. Trey noticed a nasty bruise across the knuckles of Daryl’s left hand, but he didn’t ask how it had gotten there. Trey had met Daryl when Trey had started working for a large construction firm. Daryl was the CPA and Trey a site foreman. They often had to meet about budgets and issues with money for different jobs. They found that they both liked baseball and despite being fans of rival teams—Daryl liked the Red Sox and Trey the Yankees—they’d settled comfortably into a friendship. Donnie didn’t like Daryl, saying that Daryl was weak-willed and wishy-washy. Another strike against Donnie.
Daryl sighed. “When you left the party, I knew it was because of something Donnie did. I went to find him...I knew...I mean he was always suck a jerk to you.”
Daryl’s voice had lost some of its original confidence. He didn’t have the best self-esteem. Trey had tried to fix him up with women, but when it came to talking to them, Daryl got that deer frozen in the headlights look. He could act like such a spaz sometimes, but when it was just the two of them, he was different, relaxed, open—nice. The total opposite of Donnie.
“I found him in your bedroom with his hands all over Seth.” Daryl’s voice took on a surprising force, and a fire lit in his blue eyes as he clenched his fists at this side. Trey raised an eyebrow at the transformation. “You saw him didn’t you? You saw that asshole with Seth and that’s why you left.”
Trey rubbed at the pain in his chest with the vision of Donnie bucking into Seth on their bed. He managed a nod.
Daryl scowled. Trey was sure he’d never seen that expression on his friends face. His expression was generally jovial and pleasant, maybe too pleasant, maybe too jovial. Now, seeing any emotion covering Daryl’s face, real emotion, Trey recognized that jovial and pleasant expression for what it was...a mask. Shit, Trey felt as if he didn’t really know Daryl at all.
Daryl paced, continuing to seethe, continuing to spit and sputter his obvious hatred for Donnie that went deeper than the incident at the party. “Fucking asshole!”
Trey snorted, and Daryl turned on him with wild eyes. Trey cringed. “Sorry. You just never swear.”
Daryl shook his head. “Yeah, well I call a spade a spade. I can’t believe he did that to you during your fucking birthday party. You were having a good time for a change. You were laughing and talking and then he had to ruin it for you. You didn’t deserve that!”
Trey worked to process the words. “You were having a good time for a change.” Did he usually have a bad time? Memories of parties and events and baseball games...Sure, he’d had fun, except...except for when Donnie was around. Donnie was constantly on Trey’s back about what he said, how he stood, what he wore, how he made Donnie look around others. More than once Donnie had accused Trey of embarrassing him. Trey had tried hard to live up to Donnie’s expectations but had failed consistently. He lowered his head.
“He pissed me off,” Daryl continued in his irate tone, “so I punched him in the face.”
Trey’s head shot up. “You hit Donnie?” Donnie had about four inches and twenty pounds of muscle on Daryl. Except for the bruise to his knuckles, Daryl looked unharmed. Donnie would never have let anyone get away with punching him in the face due to the embarrassment factor alone.
Daryl nodded, hands on hips, his entire body holding his defiance.
“And you’re still alive?”
Daryl scoffed and then his face softened and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I was prepared to die.” He shrugged.
“Why did you hit him?” Daryl’s confusing behavior was throwing Trey into so many different directions.
Daryl sighed, a load of bravado escaping with that breath, and his body seemed to deflate. His eyes flicked down to look at the carpet. “Because he fucked up your birthday. He cheated on you and...He hurt you.” The once confident voice wavered again, and the corners of his mouth fell.
Trey didn’t know what to say to that and after an uncomfortable silence, Daryl said, “I’ll go and get you something to settle your stomach.” Before Trey could utter a word, his friend left.
Trey sighed and rubbed at his temple. Yesterday morning, his life had been chugging along on an even keel—and now—his world had been flipped and shaken and resembled nothing he’d known. Standing on shaky legs, he went to the bathroom, trying to walk straight as the floor tipped and tilted. He relieved himself, washed his pale face and ran some toothpaste over his teeth with a finger. He passed for almost dead at that point.
Daryl hadn’t returned to the bedroom when Trey had finished so Trey went to find him. Down the hall, Trey entered the familiar living room filled with leather furniture and another large flat screen on the wall. Trey had been here dozens of time to watch baseball games. Daryl had a sweet surround system that made watching the game an awesome experience.
Daryl wasn’t in the living room. When Trey turned toward the direction of the kitchen, he saw Daryl. A large granite topped island, separated the kitchen from the living room. Daryl was standing on the other side in front of the sink, his back to Trey, but Daryl wasn’t moving. His head was lowered and the stillness of his body kind of freaked Trey out. Just as Trey was about to say his name, Daryl drew in a deep shuddering breath and released it slowly. The set of his shoulders, the shudder, made Trey think Daryl was more upset than he’d thought. Yeah, what Donnie had done sucked, but Trey was beginning to believe it wasn’t as horrible as he’d first believed. He hated to be alone, but wasn’t it worse to be with someone who didn’t love you?
I love you.
Trey’s hand covered his heart as a gentle heat blossomed beneath his breastbone. Someone had told Trey that they loved him—recently. Definitely hadn’t been Donnie. The feeling of arms encircling him, the whisper of soft words, the feeling of heat and desire and lips, caressing and soft. Trey ran his fingertips over the tingle ghosting over his lips. Trey raised his chin, eyes focused on Daryl. His friend. No, his best friend. The person he felt the most comfortable with in the world. The person who Trey shared everything with and who supported Trey, cheered him on and looked at Trey as if he mattered.
Fuck.
“You’ll never have any idea how I feel about you. I wish I could tell you.”
“I love you.”
Oh, hell. Daryl loved him? Wanted him? Daryl was gay? Truthfully, Trey had always assumed Daryl was into women. Yet, Trey had never seen Daryl with a woman or a man for that fact. Daryl spent all of his free time with Trey so...Trey slapped his hand against his forehead. Duh!
Hearing the noise, Daryl turned, the surprise apparent on his face, however he quickly schooled his features. The mask was back. His friend was good at that.
Daryl walked around the counter and held out a glass of something fizzy. “Here. It’s ginger ale. It’s all I got.”
Trey took the glass and sipped. The bubbles tickled his nose and he sneezed. “Thanks,” Trey said. “And thanks for everything else. Things got a little out of control last night.”
Daryl nodded. “It’s what friends do.”
Trey surveyed Daryl’s eyes, his face, and his mouth. The mask was there, but it was cracking, fading. The effort to keep it there must be immense. Trey really looked at Daryl who squirmed under his scrutiny. Why hadn’t he seen it? It the truth was written all over Daryl’s face, plain as day, and Trey had been so wrapped around Donnie, he’d never seen it. And wasn’t he a shit for that.
Trey stepped closer to Daryl. His friend was so different from Donnie—beautiful, muscled, tanned Donnie who looked as if he’d walked right off of GQ. Daryl looked as if he’d walked off the cover of a CPA magazine. Yet, beneath the exterior beat a fucking heart of gold, a loyal friend, a loving son, a dedicated worker, a real man who never said a bad word about another human being in his entire life. And he loved Trey—fucked up Trey, who couldn’t get beautiful Donnie to love him.
Daryl stepped back as Trey continued to advance on him. Daryl licked nervously at his lips and continued his retreat until he backed into the island. His eyes widened as Trey stepped up and they were toe to toe.
Trey leaned down and set his drink on the counter by Daryl’s arm then stood up and studied Daryl. In those blue eyes, he saw longing, the desire and the love. Trey reached his hand up and ran a finger down Daryl’s cheek. A visible shudder ran through his friend’s body, and suddenly Trey had visions of kissing Daryl’s plump lips, running his hands over bare skin, fucking Daryl on the counter, over the couch, in his bed. What would have been ludicrous just yesterday was now logical and made perfect sense.
Daryl worked hard to retain that mask, and managed a chuckle. He pointed over his shoulder. “I got you a cake.”
Trey raised his eyebrows, but didn’t take his eyes from Daryl, didn’t stop caressing his cheek. “Of course you did. You’re always doing nice shit for me. Bringing me coffee on the site, packing an extra lunch for me and reminding to eat, calling to check on me...”
Trey moved his feet to the outside of Daryl’s so he could get closer and press their bodies together. Daryl’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, but he didn’t move away.
Trey ran his fingers through Daryl’s blond curls. Daryl closed his eyes, leaned into the touch and sighed, practically melting into Trey. When Trey ran the hand down Daryl’s neck and over his chest, Daryl bit his bottom lip and tried to suppress a moan.
“Do you have something to tell me?” Trey whispered.
Daryl shifted nervously. “I-I forgot the ice cream?”
Trey chuckled and pushed harder against Daryl and their bulges lined up perfectly. They were about the same height. Daryl probably had an inch on Trey.
“What...what’re you doing?” Daryl asked with a raspy whisper.
“You have something to tell me,” Trey said, and rubbed his thumb over the hard nub of Daryl’s nipple through his shirt. Daryl hissed and Trey swore he heard a whimper. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“I don’t...know what you...want,” Daryl said, a deep moan escaping, his eyes closing for a moment as Trey pinched the nipple.
Trey brushed their lips together, a feather light whisper that rushed heat to Trey’s groin. This was Daryl, his best friend and Trey was so turned on. Why hadn’t this happened before? How long had Daryl felt this way?
Trey pulled Daryl’s bottom lip in between his teeth. Biting down, he heard a sharp intake of breath from Daryl. He released the lip and soothed the spot. Tension coiled Daryl’s muscles. He was holding back, restraining his reaction.
Trey ran his hands over Daryl’s back, kneading the muscles, soothing the man. Daryl was shaking, probably from a combination of excitement and terror. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Trey said, echoing the words he’d heard last night from Daryl.
An overwhelming urge to protect the man, keep him safe, make him feel good, smacked into Trey. God, Daryl deserved it, deserved to be the center of someone’s world. Trey nuzzled Daryl’s neck, licking and sucking, as he pushed against Daryl’s erection. Daryl’s hands were still gripping the edge of the counter. Trey knew Daryl didn’t trust what was happening and feared reaching out only to lose what he so desperately wanted. Trey knew this about Daryl. God, he did know a lot about Daryl, except for the fact that the blond-haired man loved him.
Trey put his mouth next to Daryl’s ear and rested a hand against the side of Daryl’s neck. Daryl’s pulse beat rapidly against Trey’s palm; Daryl’s shallow breaths pushed against Trey’s chest, and Daryl’s hard, erect cock dug into Trey’s groin.
“Last night, you told me I’d never know how you felt about me and wished you could tell me,” Trey whispered.
Daryl immediately shook his head as he struggled to lean back, but Trey wrapped a hand around his neck and steadied him. Trey pulled their foreheads together. “You said you loved me,” Trey whispered. “Is it true, Daryl? Do you love me?”
Daryl searched Trey’s eyes and Trey saw the hesitation, the fear. Daryl had too much to lose. Trey had to prove it was safe for him to say it again.
“Don’t answer that yet,” Trey said, sealing his mouth over Daryl’s plump lips and parting the seam with his tongue. Trey’s head rose and fell over the undulating rhythm of their kiss. Any thoughts about needing to wrap his brain around kissing Daryl fled. This felt so right. They fit perfectly.
Daryl still had a death grip on the counter. Trey had to relax him, get him to open up and enjoy what they were doing. Trey continued to kiss Daryl and soon Daryl gave more as his tongue flicked out into Trey’s mouth.
“Fuck, you taste good,” Trey said between kisses.
Daryl deepened the kiss, but still no hands.
Trey yanked up Daryl’s T-shirt and attacked his nipple. In a heartbeat, Daryl’s hands were in Trey’s hair, tugging, and the sting pushed Trey to suck harder. Trey moved to the other nipple, reached down and yanked open Daryl’s belt, popped open the button, and then pulled down the zipper. Instantly, the cloth-covered bulge was in Trey’s hand. Daryl’s hips bucked slightly. The man’s chest heaved under Trey’s mouth and their sharp breaths filled the air.
Trey kissed his way down Daryl’s soft stomach, licking over the trail of hair beneath his belly button. Peeling back the white briefs, the red head of Daryl’s cock was right in Trey’s face. Licking his lips, Trey imagined Daryl’s shaft deep inside of him, but not this time. Trey was going to fuck Daryl until he screamed his confession. Trey mouthed at the spongy head and Daryl pushed forward.
A low groan filled the air. “F-feels so good,” Daryl panted as he petted Trey’s head.
Trey smiled around the head then slid down the rigid shaft until the head bumped his throat. Daryl’s hand clutched and released Trey’s hair repeatedly. His new lover was fighting to remain in control. Trey so wanted him to lose it, but not yet.
The gasps and whimpers from Daryl filled the air and Trey pushed his palm against his own hard cock to knock back his orgasm. Shit, he was going to cum just from sucking Daryl off. It had been years since Trey had experienced hot, can’t-get-enough, cum-in-my-pants sex. How had he gone so long without it and why? The jolt of pleasure tightened his balls as he pushed a palm against his cock again. The hands in Trey’s hair tightened, causing tears to sting his eyes. Trey pulled off Daryl’s cock, panting, and willing the tingling in his groin to back off.
Daryl’s hands tried to pull Trey’s head back to his dripping dick, but Trey stood and plunged into Daryl’s mouth, thrusting his tongue in and out. Unlike their first kiss, Daryl wrapped his arms tight around Trey, rubbing and caressing. Daryl’s hands squeezed Trey’s ass, eliciting a satisfied “mmmmm” from Trey.
Reluctantly, Trey broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Daryl’s, trying to slow down and make it last.
“I want you,” Trey whispered. “Please, let me fuck you.”
Daryl’s eyes grew wide and pulled his head back. “Um...it’s been a while.”
“How long of a while?” Trey asked, licking the side of Daryl’s neck.
“Three years.”
Trey lifted his head. Those blue eyes searched Trey’s imploringly. Daryl wanted him, wanted Trey, but he was scared. Trey would be scared after three years, too.
He rubbed a palm over Daryl’s cheek and Daryl turned into the touch. God, he was starved for affection.
“I’ll be very careful, baby. I promise.”
Daryl bit down on a trembling lip, his eyes shiny, no doubt overwhelmed by the endearment. Daryl nodded his head and a ghost of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Trey smiled wide and kissed him before he grabbed Daryl’s hand and practically dragged the man into the bedroom.
With swift efficiency, Trey stripped Daryl. Daryl wrapped his arms around his naked waist and turned his head away. The expression on Daryl’s face confused Trey. “Did you change your mind? If you don’t want to...”
Daryl shook his head. “No, I want to. It’s just...” The redness in his face, the inability to look Trey in the eyes—was he embarrassed? “My body. It’s not...You like muscular guys like Donnie.”
Trey closed his eyes and breathed deep as a knife plunged into his chest. The pain in Daryl’s blue eyes— he never wanted to see it again.
“Daryl, look at me.” When Daryl didn’t move Trey cupped his face and turned his head until Daryl had to look at Trey. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I didn’t know how you felt. I’m such a shit. I should have known and I’m sorry. Please forgive me. You’re perfect.”
Daryl’s lip trembled again, and he sniffed as a tear escaped the corner of his eye. Trey wiped the stray tear with the tip of his finger.
“I will make it up to you. I promise.” Trey sealed the vow with a searing kiss that curled his own toes. Daryl lunged at Trey, swinging him around and pushing him onto the bed. Trey flailed as he fell backward then chuckled as Daryl divulged him of his remaining clothing with amazing speed. Trey laughed as Daryl opened the nightstand drawer and tossed a huge bottle of lube and a strip of condoms at him.
Trey held up the strip. “This should get us through the night. Come here, baby.”
Daryl smirked and climbed up and straddled Trey’s hips. Trey grabbed the lube and coated his fingers. Reaching beneath Daryl, he rubbed against the small opening. Daryl stiffened then slowly relaxed. Daryl leaned forward and placed his hands onto the bed on either side of Trey’s head, initiating a kiss. That sweet mouth was tentative, but gained confidence and was soon sucking and licking at Trey’s lips.
Trey pressed a finger into Daryl and they both stilled. Daryl’s hot breath fanned Trey’s face. Slowly, Daryl began to rock on the finger. Trey grasped Daryl’s dick with his other hand and let Daryl’s rocking push the cock into his fist.
With his eyes clamped shut, the concentration apparent on his face, Daryl continued to rock, increasing his pace. Whimpers of pleasure escaped as Daryl pushed onto the fingers and into the fist. Trey added another finger, stretching the digits until he could fit another finger. Never had he imagined he’d be fucking his best friend. Now it was all he wanted to do.
Daryl’s thrusts became erratic and while Trey wanted him out of his mind, he wanted inside of him. Trey pulled his fingers out and Daryl fell forward, his head resting on Trey’s chest, panting. Trey grabbed the condom and ripped it open with his teeth. By feel, he rolled the condom on not wanting to move Daryl. Before he could reach for the lube, Daryl snatched the tube and squirted it on his palm. Reaching back, he rubbed the lube over Trey’s sensitive cock, pulling a hiss from Trey’s lips.
A mischievous grin crossed Daryl’s face. He lifted up and reached back, lining up with Trey’s cock and lowering himself, slowly. Trey grabbed Daryl’s hips to keep him from going too fast. He didn’t want to hurt him. The intense concentration was back on Daryl’s face, and Trey watched for any sign of discomfort, but he found none. With a moan, Daryl's ass settled on Trey’s groin. Trey gritted his teeth, willing his hips to remain still, waiting for Daryl to signal he was ready.
Daryl wiggled his butt and writhed on Trey’s cock, and that was all the sign Trey needed. Trey pulled Daryl’s hips down and pushed up with his hips, reveling in the hitch in Daryl’s breath. Trey wasn’t going to last. He hadn’t topped since he’d been with the Donnie who never bottomed. Donnie didn’t even suck dick either. God, why had Trey put up with that shit?
Enough, he told himself. Daryl was here. Daryl loved him and felt awesome and tight bouncing up and down on Trey’s dick as Daryl. Short whimpering pants came from Daryl with each of Trey’s thrusts. The lust and pleasure covering his friend’s—lover’s—face was beautiful. Daryl was beautiful. With that thought, Daryl opened his eyes and a tight band clamped tight around Trey’s chest. The trust, the openness, the need in those pools of blue hit him hard, and Trey couldn’t look away.
Thrusting harder and faster, heat bloomed in Trey’s gut, traveling through his body, sweat covering his skin. He could fuck Daryl forever. He never wanted it to end. He wouldn’t let it.
Trey reached up and laid a hand on Daryl’s cheek. Daryl closed his eyes nuzzling his palm. He vowed right then, right there, to do anything to keep that mask off Daryl’s face and to see the real man. The real man Trey loved. Trey loved him as a friend and now that was turning into true love—all thanks to that fuck head Donnie. He’d have to send him a thank you note.
Daryl moaned, his head falling back on his shoulders. Trey was close and he wanted Daryl to go first.
He grasped Daryl’s cock, pulling hard, and the moans turned into one long groan. The pace increased and the slapping of skin echoed in the room. Daryl’s head fell forward, his mouth slack, his shoulders hunching, stomach muscles contracting.
“Baby,” Trey gasped, his balls tightening, his jaw clenching.
Daryl fell forward, his hands on Trey’s chest, elbows locked. “Trey...I love you!” Daryl cried out as creamy, hot spunk shot across Trey’s chest. The pulsing muscle around Trey’s cock sent an electric shock into his balls. Trey thrust up hard, and then again, and he was cumming, his hands grasping Daryl’s hips, pulling him down hard. “Fuck, yes!”
Clamping his eyes shut against the overwhelming emotions, Trey’s hands fumbled and found Daryl’s shoulders and pulled him down to his chest. Clutching him tight, Trey gulped air. There wasn’t enough air.
A hand stroked Trey’s hair. “Trey? It’s okay, hon. Just breathe.” The hand moved to Trey’s chest and settled over his heart and calm passed into Trey’s body. “Are you okay?” Daryl’s voice was uncertain, wavering.
Trey opened his eyes to that uncertainty and nodded. “It was just...It was intense, you know?”
Daryl nodded, still searching Trey’s face for any indication of what he was truly feeling then Daryl nodded again and tried to climb off Trey. Grasping Daryl’s arms, Trey stopped him. Daryl cocked his head with a questioning gaze.
“I love you, too.” There Trey had said it and he meant it. Every word.
“Yeah?” There was a small play of a smile on Daryl’s lips.
“Yeah,” Trey said, poking Daryl in the stomach.
Daryl grabbed Trey’s wrists and stretched his arms over his head, pinning them to the mattress. Trey made a mock attempt to struggle then smiled.
Daryl leaned down, his face inches from Trey. “Happy Birthday, Trey.” With that, Daryl met Trey’s lips in a kiss filled with love and desire and contentment. A peace unlike Trey had ever felt before expanded and filled his body. Daryl was Trey's greatest gift. ##
November 7, 2013
Vona Logan's long awaited sequel in The Hard, Hot' N Sweaty Series!
Blurb:
The past threatens to tear Aidan and Matt apart, but when Matt takes off, Aidan will stop at nothing to bring him back.
Aidan and Matt had conquered the mountain which almost killed them both and their relationship is secure. Or is it? Without warning the past inevitably rears its ugly head and the sparks begin to fly. While Aidan knows exactly what he wants, Matt's fierce independence and insecurities threaten to tear them apart. Aidan sets out to prove to Matt he isn't going anywhere and Matt needs to face and conquer the ghosts from his past. Does Aidan have what it takes to hold onto his man and will Matt allow himself to be loved?
Buy Hard N' Deep at ManLoveRomance Press
If you haven't read the first story here it is!
Blurb:
Caught between a rock and a hard place two men stare death in the eyes and all bets are off.
Aidan Walker never envisioned death would come for him so soon, but holding on for dear life he knew his time is up. Matt Raine lives for the adrenaline rush his professional rock climbing career brings him, but saving another climbers life was not on his daily to-do list. During agonizing minutes of terror, Matt rouses something in Aiden he would've never thought possible. After their ordeal Aidan finds he can't get Matt out of his mind and Matt seems to have the same problem as he surprises Aidan with a naughty visit.
Can Aidan accept Matt in his life or is the price too high?
Buy Rock Hard at ManLoveRomance Press
November 6, 2013
Wednesday Briefs #7 Diventando: Becoming
Copyright 2103 JC Wallace
Welcome to installment #7 of Owen's story that now has a title. Diventando: Becoming. Yes it has a title finally!! If you haven't read an of this weekly story, click on Wednesday Briefs in the left hand column of this page for all 7 installments. When you're done check out the other flashers this week. Enjoy!
My prompt this week was "You look like a vampire on a day pass."
As Wayne lowered Owen onto his bed, Owen caught sight of his ashen face in the mirror. He looked like vampire on a day pass. He was so weak. His muscles were slack and useless. His breaths were thready and shallow. Wayne pulled off Owen’s jacket and Owen’s arms fell heavily onto the bed. Wayne was silent as he bent down and removed Owen’s black shoes. Fuck his life— what was left of it.
Once Owen’s shoes were off, Wayne continued to kneel on the floor with his head down. Owen wished he knew what to say to comfort Wayne. They had been close since childhood, but even more so since Owen had become ill. Since then that friendship had cemented into a solid bond. During each bout with his illness, each relapse, Wayne had moved into Owen’s house for months at a time, taking on tasks no one should have to or want to do. What man wanted his mother giving him sponge baths and changing out his catheter? Wayne had stepped up for Owen and had done it all without complaint. Nothing Owen said could ever convey just how grateful he was for Wayne.
“Wayne?” A sudden chill hit Owen hard and he opened his mouth to keep his teeth from chattering.
Wayne flinched hearing his name and then raised his head slowly. Within Wayne’s eyes, the harsh truth slapped Owen. God, how was he supposed to handle Wayne’s pain as well as his own?
Wayne schooled his features and cleared his throat as he stood. “We have to call your parents.”
Owen closed his eyes as Wayne grasped his arm and helped him to lie down. Owen was so tired, his muscles, his mind, his bones. At that moment, he didn’t want to deal with anyone, especially his parents.
Before Wayne could pull away, Owen grabbed his shirt. “Not tonight. Please, Wayne.”
Wayne furrowed his brow and exhaled noisily. A flash of something lit his eyes. Anger.
“How long Owen?” The clipped tone, the set of his jaw, the rigidity of his muscles, all pointed to a pissed off Wayne.
Owen pulled at the hem of his shirt, avoiding Wayne’s glare. “Couple of weeks. It’s been worse over the last couple of days. You know I’ve never make it past two years. Well, this time it’s a little early.”
Owen could hear the grinding of Wayne’s teeth. The stillness in the room was stifling. Owen hated tension. Yell and get it over with was his motto.
“Then why in the fuck didn’t you go to the doctors, Owen?”
This was the moment of truth. Once Owen spoke his intentions, his secret would be out and nothing would be the same.
Owen sighed wearily and looked up at Wayne who still glared though his body was less rigid.
“I’m tired, Wayne.”
“We have to talk about this now, Owen,” Wayne said firmly.
Owen shook his head at Wayne misunderstanding his meaning as butterflies practically tore through his stomach. Once he said this out loud it would be real not only to the people he loved but to himself as well.
“I can’t do this again. I can’t...”
The flicker of recognition in Wayne’s face startled Owen. Before Wayne could speak Owen said, “I’m always sick and, if I’m not sick, I’m wondering when I’ll get sick again. This isn’t a life, Wayne. No matter how much I fight, it always comes back. It’s never going to go away,” Owen barely whispered the last words.
Wayne frowned and lowered his head. “You can’t give up Owen. You’ve beaten this before.” His voice was rough.
Owen forced a pathetic chuckle. “I’ve won the battles, but this illness is going to win the war.”
The magnitude of that statement stabbed Owen with its finality. He was going to die. Not maybe. Not someday in the future. Soon. How soon he didn’t know. Owen closed his eyes against the sting of tears. God, he didn’t want the people he loved in pain and mourning his loss, but he didn’t have control over that. He didn’t have control over much of anything. The only thing he could do was call the doctor in Burlington and see if he could get in sooner. He needed to find out how much time he had left. Then, he could plan and prepare everyone for what was going to happen.
Wayne shook his head as if that action would change Owen’s choice. But Owen had made his decision. Eleven years of fighting was a valiant effort, worthy of praise and rest. An eternal rest.
“Can you drive me to Burlington if I can get an appointment? I have an appointment with a doctor there in a couple of weeks. I’m hoping I can see him in the next couple of days and get more of an idea of how long I have.”
Wayne eyed Owen for several long ticks of the clock. Owen prayed Wayne wouldn’t refuse to take him. If he did, Owen didn’t know how he would get there.
“On one condition,” Wayne said as his face took on a suspicious look of hope.
Ah, shit.
“You listen to that doctor if he says there’s a chance to beat this. You can’t give up. You...just can’t.”
Owen did the only thing he could do for Wayne at that moment, he nodded.
The rigidity fled Wayne’s body and his face softened. He had an expression filled with hope.
“I’m going to get you some water. What else do you need?”
Again, right into the role of caregiver. Owen blinked and shook his head. “Nothing Wayne. Thanks.”
Wayne left the room and Owen rolled onto his side, hugging his pillow. He closed his eyes and thought of Turk and heat bloomed in his chest and filled his belly and groin. The fun they could have had together if only...This was probably for the best. It wasn’t as if they really knew one another. It’s not as if Owen felt anything for the man.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
##
Now check out the other flashers this week!
Chris T. KatMA Church Shelly Schulz Nephylim Cia Nordwell Renee StevensElyzabeth VaLey Victoria Adams Andrew GordonTali SpencerJon KeysJulie Lynn HayesLily Sawyer
