Bad Wrong Things

by C.P. Harris

Clint and I were like hot oil kissing water. Gasoline crooking its finger at an open flame. We came together like animals in heat, marking and pissing over our territory. And love had everything, yet nothing, to do with it.

I stood there confident in knowing that the worst mistake I’d ever taken part in was the best decision of my life.

“I’m not the same man you left, Raven. I promise I’m not. But you’ll have to put me down first if you plan on leaving me like that again.”

I’d deserted Mansfield before he and I had reached an agreed upon conclusion. And in addition to denying Clint closure, I’d also denied him peace.

My body remembered, and it wanted more. Clint was a man consumed when fucking me. Taken over, possessed. Sex with him was a drug, addictive and potent.

“Promise me. And if you can’t promise me all those things, then please, lie to me.”

“I’ve missed you so much I’ve gone blind. Feeling my way through life. My senses are fucked, Clint. Nothing looks the same since you, nothing smells or tastes the same. The world is bland.”

The ritual of Clint cleaning up his mess ended with me shaking on hands and knees, my chubby cock hanging, racked by the aftershocks of another orgasm.

No never stopped us. Especially not after we’d decided that turning ourselves into monsters would be the only way to cope with the pain. To be more deserving of it.

I was in love with him. With the straight man that took me in and saw me as a son. And I wanted to scalp every slut that got to ride his cock.

I wanted to come to him as something more than what he saw when he looked at Joey. I wanted Clint to burn for me.

“If we concentrate less on what makes us different and more on what makes us the same. If the stars can shine alongside the sun, then so can we.

“You remember,” I said, brows reaching for the sky. “I remember everything you say to me, Clint.”

“You being territorial over me feeds my need to be loved or some shit.” “Is that with everyone or just me?” I leaned my hip into the counter. “Just you. Fuck everyone else.”

I didn’t see this freight train called attraction coming until it had me roped to its tracks while barreling down at full speed. I had to shake it. I was a mad man to think he and I could ever be friends.

I wanted to beg him to try, to see me as something different. To see me as a possibility because I saw him as the only option.

“Were you pissed at seeing me with a man because you think it’s wrong or were you jealous, damn it!” “Both!” The side of his fist met the counter, rattling the dish rack. “All of the goddamn above! I was shamefaced and angry at myself for wanting you. Pissed because you being with a man is wrong, if that man isn’t me. Jealous because the only set of hands that should be setting your body on fire are mine.”

“Look around us, Clint,” he pleaded, and I did so. “The moon and stars aren’t here to judge and condemn us. Being together has never been more simple than it is right now.” “Live in the moment,” I whispered. “This moment, not the next.”

Raven and I were at opposite ends of life’s spectrum with many years separating us. But the process of hurting and healing was the same for us all. Our emotional connection strengthened under the stars.

“I fucking love you, Clint. And if you’re brave enough to let me show you, I promise I’ll never stop.”

“The mouth and the heart are connected. That’s why words hurt. I’d never give either to anyone but you.”

“Anything. I’ll fucking agree to anything to have you.”

Clint secretly hoped I’d come to my senses, realize our perfect family was too precious to put at stake. Didn’t he get it? I would’ve sacrificed everything for him.

“When did your feelings change?” “When the best part of my day became returning home. When I realized home was wherever you were.”

“When the curve of your neck stopped being just the curve of your neck. When it became a place I wanted to bury my troubles away in. A place I hungered to breathe from. When the sun in my eyes stopped being a simple annoyance, but a plot of the universe to keep me from gazing at you. When seeing you do what you love stopped only being an inspiration of pride, but also an inspiration for my attraction.”

Gone were the days where being fucked was the highlight of the experience. Clint made me want to learn how to be loved, not taken—but I wanted to be taken too, so much.

“What if I hurt you? What if I realize I can’t do this after all?” “What-if sounds like a problem for the future. Don’t pull away right now, Clint. Because that will hurt me. Right. Now.” For the second time, I asked him to put full faith in me. “Trust me.”

“We don’t need that,” I said stubbornly. “I haven’t waited all this time to have your dick in me only to have a rubber cock-block.”

“My filthy mouth is the least of your concerns. My ass is gonna take you down whole. And I want your meat raw when it happens.”

“I don’t need protection from you, Clint. I want everything you got.”

“I want so much of your cum in me.”

“I want to leak you for days.”

“Does it look like I need you to come with a warning? Just come and never stop coming, Clint.” I dipped my middle finger inside me, straight to the last knuckle. Fuck waiting for Clint to ready me. I’d been ready for years.

“Fill me up, Clint. Make me choke on it.”

“I’m gonna shatter every trace of who’s been here before me,” he promised, making me virginal and robbing me of my purity at the same fucking time.

“Get used to those hickeys, sweetheart. From now on, they’ll be a permanent fixture. And don’t you dare try to hide them.”

I wanted Clint wild-eyed for me. Crazed with horniness and jealousy. I wanted him to take and take until I was a tiny, invisible speck because he’d inhaled every drop of me.

“I need to get to sleep right now, because I can’t wait to wake up to you.”

“I’m sitting here playing Rummy, vying for a prize I’ve already won, yet still dying for the chance to win you again because I can’t get enough of winning you.”

“I’ll never forget how it feels to be inside you, Raven. Your body, your mind, your heart… Never.”

“I’ve got a lot for you this time,” I said, gauging the fullness of my sack as it swung. “I’ll be slurping it out of you all night, Raven.”

“I hate that others have been here,” I said. “That out there, right now, someone’s remembering you were the best fuck of their life.”

Clint parted me and inhaled my landing strip like a line of blow.

“I’d never ask you to choose between us. I only ask that you fight to have us both, and I’ll fight with you.

“If you want my forgiveness, Clint, you’ll need to beg for it.” “Please forgive—” “On your knees. Between my thighs.”

“I said no. Are you going to fuck me anyway, Clint?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because it’s been too long since I took something without a care for what anyone else wanted. Because I can’t un-remember how much I love it now. And because I want to.”

“You sleep with me, or you don’t sleep at all.”

We fucked way too much, but not nearly enough. We enabled each other. We were our own referees, and our judgment on what constituted a foul was biased at best. At worst, we simply didn’t care. The more flags, white or red, the merrier.

We were deviating off course, the line separating us from a pack of wild animals thinning.

“We trampled over shouldn’t five fucks ago, Clint. Maybe more.