by May Archer
“What’s this?” Cam asked.
“It’s my good luck charm,” Cort told him, running a hand over Cam’s hair. “Saved my ass a hundred times or more.”
“Really?” Cam’s voice was disbelieving, as though he thought Cort was bullshitting him.
“Really,” Cort confirmed. He took a deep breath. “When I was a kid, I was bitten by a dog.” He hesitated before adding, “It was my stepfather’s dog. A big-ass German Shepherd. I still have a little scar.” He shifted his hand and moved a finger up to trace the edge of his lip. “Anyway, uh, I had this crazy fear of dogs after that. All of them, big or small, so at first they tried to place me in homes where they didn’t have animals, but they can’t always manage it, you know?”
Cort blew out a breath. He’d never spoken this shit aloud to anyone before in his life, and he was pretty sure he sounded like an idiot. Cam didn’t move or say anything, but Cort could tell he was listening, could feel Cam was focused on him, not on the plane bouncing down the tarmac. “I was placed with the Dempseys when I was ten, and they had three dogs. Vicious, yappy little things. They were sweet to Craig and Rhonda, but assholes to me and Damon. They’d growl and bark and—” He cleared his throat. “Damon didn’t care, because he was older - taller, bigger. But I was this tiny, scrawny, little kid.”
“Not possible,” Cam mumbled, making Cort laugh.
“Well, I didn’t just pop out this size, badass,” he joked. “But yeah, I was runty even for my age. I hadn’t gotten into football or any kind of sports at that point. Craig Dempsey, he was a man’s man kind of guy. He didn’t tolerate weakness, or having a gay kid like Damon or a bisexual kid like me living in his house, either, but that’s a different story coming way later. He, ah, felt like it was his duty to make me stronger by facing my fear, so he made me feed the dogs by myself every night.”
Cam pulled back to look at him, his eyes wide and angry in a way that warmed Cort’s chest. “What did you do?”
Cort shrugged. “The first time? I cried! I mean, my choices were to take my chances with the dogs or take my chances with Craig. And if Damon had tried to interfere, Craig would get pissed at him instead. So, Damon gave me this quarter. Told me it was magic and it would protect me.”
Cam smiled, just a little. “And you believed it?”
“God, no. Even then I knew there was no such thing.” He swallowed. “But, here’s the thing. Damon gave it to me because he wanted me to be brave, right? Because, for whatever reason, he loved me and wanted me to be okay. And so, whenever I have it with me, I remember I’m not, you know, alone. That’s the magic, I think.”
The plane picked up speed, and Cam’s hand clenched around the quarter. He buried his face in Cort’s chest again with a small moan.
“You know, air travel is really safe most of the time,” Cort said, stroking his hand down Cam’s back. “Way safer than cars and trains.”
“I know,” Cam said, the sound muffled by Cort’s shirt. “And the number of aircraft accidents goes down all the time. I’ve looked it up.”
“Just think about how much more dangerous other forms of transportation are, and how people have lived to tell the tale,” Cort said, as they barreled down the runway. He felt the weightless jerk in his stomach that told him the plane was now airborne, and he began to talk faster. “Like, ah, have you ever seen how people strap those helicopter blades to their lawn chairs and stuff?”
Cam stiffened in Cort’s hold. “What?”
“Seriously. I saw it on TV. One guy even took a hot air balloon mechanism and attached it to one of those plastic rain barrels people use in their gardens. You know the kind I mean?”
Cam nodded, pulling away again to look at Cort in confusion, maybe wondering what the hell Cort was rambling on about.
It was a damn good question, and one Cort didn’t have an answer to. His main goal here was distraction, and he’d quickly learned nothing distracted Cam as effectively as Cort being ridiculous. Cort pulled Cam’s head back against his chest, and dug his fingers into the incredibly tight muscles at the base of Cam’s neck.
Cam let out a whimper - a sound so like the one he’d made last Friday, Cort felt his dick begin to swell, as though the fucking thing had a direct connection to Cam’s vocal cords. Focus, Cortland. Cam is frightened.
“Right, so, the only problem was, he had no idea how to steer it. The dude launches himself up - I swear to God, wearing nothing but his underwear and swim goggles. He goes so high, he gets fucking hypothermia. He passes out, and when he comes to, he’s miles and miles away from his house, where he started the adventure. Like, in the next state. They had to send out people to rescue him.”
“But… How did he… Why would he do that?” Cam demanded. He didn’t attempt to pull away, and in fact he seemed to be pushing into Cort’s touch, seeming to enjoy the sensation. He twisted to get more comfortable, and one of his hands came to rest on Cort’s thigh.
Cort increased the pressure of his thumbs on Cam’s neck.
“I don’t know. Maybe because he had no idea he wasn’t supposed to?”
Cort could feel Cam’s frown against his chest. “That completely defies logic. How would he know how to build the mechanism but not know how to control it? Or not know it would be dangerous to launch himself into the air with no sure way to get down?”
Cort snickered. “Babe, have you not realized that hardly anything in life is logical? Logic and magic are both pretty scarce.”
Cam shook his head, his body growing more pliant against Cort’s, even though his hand was still clenched around the quarter. “You’re totally wrong. Almost everything is logical. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. There are three hundred sixty-five days in a year. One plus one is two.”
“Those things are facts,” Cort said, glancing out the window to see they were now surrounded by puffy white clouds. “That doesn’t necessarily make them logical. Why are there three hundred and sixty-five days, not an even hundred? Why does the sun rise in the east instead of the north? You can’t explain it, there’s not a logical explanation behind it, it just is.”
He scratched his fingers through the hair at the base of Cam’s neck, felt him shudder slightly, and continued in a lower voice.
“Sometimes the truest things are the weirdest ones, the ones you think couldn’t possibly work. And I think…” He hesitated. “I think a lot of the time when people do really remarkable shit, it’s because they didn’t know they couldn’t, or they didn’t listen when people told them they weren’t supposed to.”
Cam was quiet for a minute, digesting this. Cort watched his fingers play against Cam’s neck, and felt Cam’s fingers - the ones not holding his lucky quarter - contract against his thigh before the man relaxed against Cort more fully.
“Gimme an example,” Cam said, one hundred percent serious, and Cort had to bite his lip to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had listened to the bullshit he sometimes spouted and seriously considered it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so important. It was odd, and really, really satisfying.
“Okay, think about the first dude who rubbed two sticks together and made fire. I mean, he couldn’t have known for sure it was going to happen. If you didn’t know anything about friction, and some guy came to you and grunted that he was gonna make a spark by rubbing two boring-ass sticks together, you’d think he was off his rocker. But he didn’t know it was a stupid idea, so he did it, and voila. Fire.”
Cam snorted. “Voila, fire?”
“Hush,” Cort said, yanking a lock of hair at the crown of Cam’s head. Cam inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away. In fact, he sank further into Cort’s lap. Cort lifted his knee onto the seat sideways, and shifted so Cam was leaning against him more fully.
“That actually makes a lot of sense.”
Cam sounded so surprised, Cort yanked his hair again. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“No, no. I
mean, I’d just never thought of it like that before. My dad, when he started Seaver Tech, he was the same. Everybody thought he was going to fail. His own parents wrote him off. ‘Don’t come crying to us when you end up bankrupt.’ My mom’s parents were just as bad. Nobody would invest in the business at first. I remember hearing my parents put up our house as collateral, and if he’d failed, they would’ve been homeless with a baby to support. That’s really stupid, when you think about it.”
Cort chuckled. “Massively stupid.”
“But it paid off.” Cam’s voice was still disbelieving.
“Given that we are currently sitting on a leather sofa in the sky, winging our way to a private island, I’d have to agree.”
Cam jerked his head up and looked out the window, then back at Cort in surprise. “We took off. We’re already in the air.”
“Yup.”
Cam’s eyes widened and his lips turned up in a small smile. He glanced back down at the quarter in his hand. “Uh. Thanks. I think maybe I’m good now.” He held the quarter out on his open palm for Cort to take back.
Cort pushed Cam’s fingers closed around the coin. All the things he could say - My fault I made you do this in the first place. and Thank you for making me feel necessary. and Come lean on me again. - sounded like sappy bullshit, so he stuck to a simple, “You hang onto it.”
Cam swallowed and looked down at his lap. “You know, I don’t know if I could have done what my dad did. I’m, uh, risk-averse. I think I mostly do what I’m supposed to. One foot in front of the other, you know?”
It sounded as though Cam was reciting something he’d heard somewhere. The ex again? That asshole had better hope he and Cort didn’t meet up anytime soon.
Cort frowned and ducked his head, so Cam’s eyes met his. “Bullshit.”
“What?”
“I said, bullshit, badass. You take risks all the time, and I know what I’m talking about. My friend Derrick used to say I should get ‘No risk, no reward’ tattooed on me someplace.”
“This doesn’t surprise me.” Cam raised one eyebrow.
Cort chuckled. “And you still haven’t seen my League of Legends skills.” Cam rolled his eyes, but Cort continued, “The way you see yourself is seriously flawed, babe. You’ve done nothing but take risks since the minute we met. Sneaking up to skinny dip in the pool, making out in stairwells, flying me to St. Brigitte as your date. Maybe I have a good effect on you.”
Cam’s eyes were piercing as they focused on Cort, and then his lips tipped up into a smile.
Cort gave Cam a wink, then took his seatbelt off and stood, taking the opportunity to stretch, and adjust himself while Cam couldn’t see. Whatever effect Cort had on Cam, Cam was definitely having one on him. Something about the guy’s smile and the way every emotion played so openly across his face totally killed Cort’s self-control. “So, do you have movies on your laptop? I brought some cards, if you want to play a game. Poker, or I dunno… Never Have I Ever?”
“Cort?” Cam said, his voice strained. Cort turned and glanced down at him in concern, but Cam didn’t look worried or upset, he seemed…
Turned on.
“I don’t want to play card games,” he said, taking off his own seatbelt to Cort’s absolute surprise.
“You don’t?”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I want to do something a little riskier.”
Oh. Holy. Shit. He licked his suddenly dry lips. “Riskier, as in?”
“As in, hold still.” Cam reached out and unbuttoned Cort’s jeans in one smooth movement. He sank to his knees beside the couch and looked up at Cort, waiting for approval, but Cort’s mind was a total blank slate.
Cam wanted to…
Cort’s pulse pounded, all the blood in his body traveling immediately to his cock, but still he had to ask, “Cam. Baby, are you sure?”
He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, of a moment of vulnerability Cam had shared. Cort’s loyalties were all fucked up, and he didn’t want to hurt Cam again.
But Cam nodded, his eyes glazed with want, and all Cort’s good intentions drifted away into the cloud deck. He had no fucking clue what was happening right here, but nobody had ever accused him of being risk-averse. So, they’d do this. And he’d make sure Cam didn’t get hurt, somehow.
“Do it,” Cort said, low and commanding.
Cam responded instantly, pulling Cort’s jeans down to his ankles. Cort toed off his shoes and stepped out of them, kicking his pants aside. Cam threaded his fingers into the waistband of Cort’s boxers and looked up at him again, waiting for direction, waiting for permission.
Oh, fuck.
Cort’s dick was so hard he could feel precum leaking from the tip. Cam’s eyes flicked to Cort’s heavy bulge and he licked his lips before looking back up at him.
“You want to take my boxers off, too, Cam?”
Cort braced his hands on the low, curved ceiling of the plane so he wouldn’t be tempted to rip his own boxers off and take himself in hand. He was completely getting off on the way Cam was looking at him, and no way did he want this to end too soon.
“Yes,” Cam whispered.
Cort hesitated for a second, wondering how far he should push, but just as before, he could read Cam perfectly. Cam needed this. “Yes, what?”
His eyes closed and he shivered slightly. “Yes, please,” he begged.
And that was it. Game on. He could see the light flicker into Cam’s eyes that said he was giving himself over to this, to Cort.
“Take them off,” Cort instructed. His boxers were gone almost before the words passed his lips, and his cock was rock hard and pulsing in the cool air of the plane.
Cam bit his lip and sighed, and once again the sound seemed to bypass Cort’s brain and travel directly to his dick. He dropped one hand from the ceiling to cradle Cam’s jaw, his thumb brushing over those gorgeous, plump lips, then he cupped the back of Cam’s head and gently guided him forward.
Cam didn’t need any further permission or encouragement, and apparently, he didn’t need a warmup. He swallowed Cort down to the root in one gulp. Cort cried out, his head swimming at the sensation.
Cam stared up at Cort and at the sight of those trusting, lust-hazed blue eyes, Cort nearly lost it. His hand clenched in Cam’s hair, and he forced himself to relax, to let Cam take this at his own pace.
“So, so, good baby,” he praised as Cam pulled nearly all the way off Cort’s dick, ran his tongue over the tip, then sank all the way back down again, nearly choking himself in the process. “Easy,” Cort said.
But Cam didn’t want that. He made a small humming noise in the back of his throat, a sound of disagreement. He grabbed Cort’s hand from the top of his head and moved it around to the back, pushing slightly, and his eyes pleaded with Cort as he sank down so far his eyes watered. Cort heard what Cam was trying to tell him as clearly as if Cam had spoken aloud. Take it.
“You want to choke on it, Cam? You want to take my cock all the way down your throat?”
The moan Cam gave, the helpless pleading in his eyes as he wrapped his hands around Cort’s ass and pushed his nose into Cort’s pubes, were confirmation enough. Cort wouldn’t ask if Cam was sure, wouldn’t discourage him from having this exactly the way he wanted it, since it was exactly the way Cort wanted it, too.
With both hands, he grabbed Cam’s head, his fingers threading into the soft brown spikes of Cam’s hair, and held him still. Cam’s eyes burned up at him, full of love and trust Cort knew he hadn’t earned. If Cam could trust him again - would trust him in this, at least, then Cort wouldn’t let him down. He rocked back, watching Cam’s cheeks hollow as he sucked, then thrust forward, into the scorching hot cavern of Cam’s mouth.
Time seemed to spiral, and Cort found himself in a feedback loop of desire, the almost painfully good feeling of Cam’s mouth on his dick, and the answering pleasure he could see in Cam’s eyes. It was the best he’d ever had, better by far than any one-night hookup or ba
ckroom blow job, and it wasn’t because Cam had any particular skill - though, fuck, could the man use his mouth. It was because of the way Cam’s eyes were focused on him, wanting Cort to take him, wanting Cort to own him, wanting Cort himself.
And suddenly, this pleasure wasn’t enough. He needed Cam to be with him. Just like last week, he needed to offer Cam something more real than he’d ever offered anyone before.
He slid himself out of Cam’s mouth, a shudder wracking his body at the sight of Cam’s swollen, spit-slick lips.
“Stand up, baby,” he commanded.
Cam got to his feet immediately, his chest heaving, Cort’s hands cradling his jaw. Cort leaned forward and kissed him, sliding his tongue along Cam’s and tasting himself on Cam’s tongue as though he’d embedded himself under Cam’s skin. Exactly as it should be.
He unfastened Cam’s shorts and pushed them down, along with his underwear, only breaking the kiss for a moment as he stripped off their shirts, and then he held Cam against him, skin-to-skin. His hands roamed the light muscles of Cam’s abs and around to his strong back. He wasn’t as obviously built as Cort, but he hid undeniable strength beneath his clothes, and that strength inflamed Cort beyond belief. He gripped Cam’s hips and thrust against him, his cock sliding against Cam’s stomach. Both men moaned.
His hands dipped further, skimming over Cam’s ass, dipping between his cheeks. Cam broke away from their kiss and shuddered out a breath.
“Please?”
“You want more, Cam? You want me?”
Cam nodded, his eyes blazing, no trace of hesitation or shyness. “Yes,” he said. “You are exactly what I need.”
Cort swallowed, his throat tight. Cam was all welcoming openness, giving of himself again and again with no hesitation. It was fucking humbling. And for the first time in a long while, Cort felt a pang of nerves, followed by a flash of resolve.
