Gabe was moving before he even knew what he’d intended. Another tug, a twist and a spinning step and Deuce was the one captured against the table. Their mouths tore apart, ragged panting filling the kitchen.
And then their eyes met.
Blue eyes glittered like a summer sky. Generous lips were full and ready. Just right for more kisses. Gabe knew that he would have that same look after going down on him, and he wanted to keep it safely in his imagination. Clearly. He swept his tongue over Deuce’s tingling lips, then decided he couldn’t wait another minute to feel his cock inside him.
“Turn around,” Gabe whispered. “I’m about to tear your ass up.”
*
A sensuous thrill passed through Deuce at Gabe’s sexy words, so he turned, leaned over the table while he felt Gabe open him up, and press his cock against his waiting hole. He could feel Gabe preparing his cock for its plunge by lubricating it. He knew it had to be done, but his nerves were jumping. He was anxious, wanting, until suddenly he felt himself being impaled, and cried out. Cries, sobs, gasps and moans filled the room while their bodies slapped at each other. Flesh on flesh, heat on heat, sweat pouring off both of them.
Gabe acted wild, raw, and uninhibited as he continued to bump and grind his own cock into Deuce who said with a guttural voice, “My cock, jerk it!”
Gabe reached around, grabbed it, and played rough with it until both men gave one last shout and spewed together. Afterward, Gabe slumped over Deuce, neither moving at first. And then slowly they began to move, but only to wilt toward the floor.
“Oh, God, that was good,” Gabe said while trying to catch his breath. When he did, he turned toward Deuce. “Let’s talk, okay?”
“I thought we already had,” Deuce answered. “What’s left to confess? We’re different men now than we were before. I don’t know about you, but I have no more secrets.”
“You’ve probably got plenty, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”
“Really?” Deuce asked while he got up and put his head under the faucet for the water to pour over. “Damn, that feels good. I can’t remember the last time I got so hot.” He grinned, and looked over at Gabe. “Oh, yes I can. It was the last time we were together. You’re a firecracker, my friend.”
“Stop all this gibberish, Deuce, you’re just trying to avoid this.”
“Look, when somebody says they want to talk I know trouble is coming. I’ll tell you right now, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, it’ll keep.”
“We’re not putting it off.” Gabe looked around at Deuce’s apartment. “What the hell are you doing living in this dump?”
“Dump?” Deuce said angrily. “What’re you calling a dump?”
“All right, so maybe I’m being a little too critical, but you can’t live like this. With no food, and look at the damned furniture. Where’d you get it, at some poor man’s auction?” Gabe hesitated, and looked at Deuce concerned. “What do you use for money?”
“Look, the truth is, I only gamble as much as it takes to keep a roof over my head. Food is…I get food at the vendors when I’m out.”
“Vendor food? Hell, Deuce I’m surprised you’re still alive, or not in the hospital for food poisoning.”
“I do the best I can. If I go back to my old life I’ll wind up in prison, or dead. That leaves me with very little, but I get along.”
“Have you thought of getting a job?”
“I never learned how to do anything. I traded school for a deck of cards and never looked back. Learning Criss Cross, Bottom’s Up, and Aroo did me more good than studying algebra or reading up on dead poets, presidents and Shakespeare.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s not doing much for you now.”
“Would you please tell me how knowing the name of every friggin’ president we’ve ever had, when he was in office, and how he lost his friggin’ virginity is going to help me now?”
“Knowing that stuff is just a stepping stone to something bigger…a diploma, you dumbass, and if you’re lucky, a degree. These are the tools you need in finding a job.” He hesitated a moment, and then cut his teasing eyes over to Deuce. “By the way, guess which one of those so-called boring presidents lost his virginity in the school library.”
Deuce’s eyes widened, and surprise broke out on his face. “Are you serious?”
Gabe began laughing. “Hell no. I was just blowing smoke. But look at the way you livened up. You were actually interested.”
“Bastard,” Deuce replied while he tried to keep from smiling. “So what’s all this about? Why are you raking my ass over the coals?”
“I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Especially now that I’ve seen how you live.” He looked around. “Why don’t you give all this up, and come stay with me? You’d have time to find a job, and when you get on your feet again you could move out…or stay. It’s totally up to you.”
“I don’t know,” Deuce said, and then after a short silence he looked back over at Gabe and shrugged. “I guess I can think about it. I’ll do that much.”
Gabe’s smile was wide, as if he’d won a battle. “Good,” he said. “I’ll help you pack.”
* * * *
They spent the remainder of the day moving Deuce out of his apartment, and into Gabe’s, but at about six o’clock Gabe had to always check in at the police precinct. The night that was scheduled looked pretty mundane, so he figured he’d be home early. He’d be riding shotgun for a while until it was time to spend a few hours policing the neighborhoods looking for anything that looked suspicious. If he didn’t get caught up in anything he could call it a night when the other cop showed up, otherwise it meant paperwork, line-ups, and interrogations that could go on until the wee hours—if he was lucky.
*
A few days later, while Deuce was waiting at home, he fell asleep on the couch. It seemed as if he’d only been there for a few minutes when for some reason he began hearing what sounded like the insane ticking of the clock. When he tried to go back to sleep, the ticking seemed to be getting louder and louder as if it were trying to get his attention. With that he jumped up, jerked his head around, and looked at it.
Oh, my God, it was three o’clock, and Gabe wasn’t home.
This wasn’t like Gabe. Now that the two of them were together Gabe always made sure he called if he was going to be detained, but tonight he hadn’t. Deuce knew something must have happened. It was hard to pinpoint when he would be home since he didn’t actually have set hours, he just clocked in at the precinct around six, did what he had to do, went where he was needed, and then when he was relieved he would clock out. He might punch a clock, but even when he wasn’t on duty he always had an eye out in case there was trouble. As a result his hours were erratic, and he wouldn’t make it home sometimes until very late. Deuce knew that it didn’t matter how much time it took, Gabe would be out there until the job was done. Clearly, his dedication to what he did was something that heroes were made of.
For that, Deuce admired him.
Now, Deuce worriedly looked out the windows, and glanced at the phone wondering if he should call the precinct to find out if they knew where he was. The only problem was, it might upset Gabe if he thought he was checking up on him, so that was out.
While Deuce and the clock was having another insane moment in time, his edgy nerves made him jump when a knock sounded at the door. Not wasting a minute, he hurried up, went to the door, and as he looked through the peephole his breath stopped. It was a couple of police officers. Taking one last breath, he flung the door open, and looked at them with concern.
“What’s happened?”
The two officers looked at each other with somber faces, and then back at Deuce.
“Oh, God, don’t tell me. He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“He’s at Mount Sinai. He’s been hurt, and it’s bad, but he’s getting the best care possible.”
“I need to get to him.” He looked at the t
wo officers. “I don’t have a car. Could you…”
“Sure.”
Deuce grabbed his jacket, locked the door, and prayed while the two officers broke every traffic rule on the books to get him to where Gabe was. The siren wailed as they skidded along the streets, going in and out of traffic like the bumper cars at the midway.
“God, don’t let him die…don’t let him die…don’t let him die…” Deuce kept praying every mile they put behind them.
As soon as the cop car drove up into the emergency drive, Deuce jumped out, and ran in. He looked here and there until he finally saw the nurse’s station and ran up to it. “I need to see Gabe Wesley.”
The nurse quickly looked down at a roster, and then back up to Deuce. “He’s in recovery right now, and can’t have visitors until the doctor says so. Sorry.”
“But I’m…I’m…a priest,” Deuce lied. “Uh…I need to…”
“You’re here to perform the Last Rites? But he’s…” She looked down at the roster. “The doctor didn’t say anything about that.” Slowly her eyes raked down his clothes. “If you’re a priest, where are your cleric’s clothes?”
“Uh…I was called…uh…” Just then one of the cops came up to the counter. “Nurse, he’s a close friend of the patient. He’s not here to perform a cleric’s duties, he’s just concerned about his friend.”
“But the doctor said Mr. Wesley couldn’t have visitors. I’m afraid you’ll have to take it up with him.”
“All right. Who is his doctor?” Deuce said.
“Dr. Ethan Spencer.”
“And where is Dr. Spencer now?”
“Most likely with the patient.” She happened to look up and saw a man walking down the hall toward them. “No, there he is now. Dr. Spencer,” she called out. “This man wants to see Mr. Wesley. I tried to tell him…”
“It’s all right, nurse,” he said, and turned to the two of them. “Is either of you Druce…something…”
“I’m Deuce Gannon.”
“Well, he’s been calling for someone…it was hard to make out what he was saying, but that sounds right.” He looked at the officers. “Are you together?”
“Yes, sir,” the cop said.
“I don’t understand. Is he in custody?”
“Oh, no,” the cop said. “We brought this gentleman here. He’s a friend of Gabe…uh, Mr. Wesley’s.”
“We really shouldn’t let anyone in but family.”
“But he’s been calling for me.”
“Doc,” the cop said, concerned. “Deuce is the closest thing to family Gabe has. I would consider it a personal favor to the Police Department if you would allow him in. I think he would be able to do a lot for him.”
“My God, he’s not dying, is he?” Deuce asked.
“No, but he’s in serious condition, and we won’t know anything for a few hours yet.”
“Doc,” Deuce said. “I’ve just got to see him. Gorman here is right. He has no family. Neither of us do. We only have each other. Please, could you bend the rules just a little in this case? I think it would help him a lot to know I was there with him.”
“Mr. Deuce…”
“Gannon. My name is Deuce Gannon.”
“Mr. Gannon, what I’m trying to say is, if he happens to wake up while you’re there, he’ll have a reaction.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you’re a friend, and as you say his only family, you’re right. It should do him a lot of good. But if you’re…not…well, it might affect him negatively.”
“Doc, we’re roommates…” Deuce’s words stopped as he wondered if he should tell the doctor the truth. Finally he tugged on the doctor’s arm, and took him aside, and spoke in softer tones. “Doc, we’re lovers.”
The doctor’s eyes widened. “You mean you’re…”
Deuce nodded impatiently. “Hell, I don’t care who knows it, Gabe needs me. He needs to know I’m here for him. Doc, I love him, and I think he loves me. Please…don’t keep us apart.”
The doctor’s eyes misted up as he looked at Deuce’s anxious face, and he nodded. “He’s in Recovery. It’s down the hall and to the right.”
Without saying anything to the police, Deuce turned and hurried down the hall. When he got there he stopped quickly, and went in slowly and hesitantly. When he saw Gabe with every kind of tube imaginable sticking in him, he felt like crying. Gabe had always been so strong, and able to take care of himself and everyone else, it was hard to see him lying there having others take care of him. He looked so different than he usually did. He didn’t resemble a weakling by any means, but his usual bulky frame looked to have slimmed down some.
Deuce walked up to the bed slowly and looked at the face he had come to love. Weak, fighting for his life, and so very dependent on others. It just wasn’t like him. And yet, it didn’t make Deuce think any less of him. If anything it made his feelings go deeper. After all, who could love a man who didn’t need them? A man who always had everything under control? A man who stood tall and untouchable? Not him. For the first time Deuce discovered he didn’t want perfection in his lover. He wanted one who was human. A man who needed him. A man who might make a mistake, but was sorry for it later. He wanted the mistakes, the sins, the wrong things he might say just before he said he was sorry. That’s what Deuce wanted.
He wanted Gabe—not the Night Flyer.
As Gabe opened his eyes and saw Deuce, they flickered with the reaction the doctor predicted he would have. “So what do you think of me now?”
When Deuce heard those words he looked at Gabe and smiled. “I think you’d better wear a bulletproof vest from now on.”
“Doesn’t it make you think less of me?”
“Are you kidding? I think you’re the bravest, the kindest and the most selfless man I’ve ever met.”
“You mean you don’t want us to go our separate ways now that you know I’m just a man like you?”
“Gabe, what the hell are you talking about? Even when you had your super powers you were a man just like me. The fact that you could do a few things I couldn’t didn’t make you into some alien. I started reading up on that Cellular Regeneration you told me about, and found out that all this just makes sense. It was bound to happen. You had your fifteen minutes of fame, and now…”
“I don’t want fame, and never did. I just wanted to give the bad guys what they deserve. No limelight for me—”
“All right, all right, I know what you’re saying, but it’s all over now anyway. But just the same, whether you want it or not, it happened. Hell, you happened, and nobody’s gonna forget it. Oh, it might die down, but there’ll be people telling their children, and grandchildren about the Night Flyer who once risked his life to clean up the streets of this fine city. I know you’ll disagree, but if they were smart, they’d build a statue to you, and I wouldn’t be surprised to know that some smart writer out there might be inspired to create a superhero called the Night Flyer.”
Gabe snickered. “You’re more delusional than I am.”
“Well…maybe I’ll get myself on a committee to get all that done.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’ll get on a committee to make gambling legal in this state.”
“Good luck with that,” Deuce said, laughing. Suddenly his laughter died down when he saw the sad look on Gabe’s face. “Hey, I can tell something is still bothering you. What is it?”
“I need my glasses.”
“I’ll bring them the next time I come. Now, what’s bothering you?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just sad to see it go. I mean, I don’t understand why God would give me these super powers, and then take them away. Is it some kind of revenge?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for sleeping with a priest, and now he’s punishing me by taking these powers of mine away.”
“Look, Gabe, you must be the luckiest son of
a bitch I’ve ever run across.”
“Lucky? Why?”
“Why? Because you flew in the air, for God’s sake. Hell, you had bullets bouncing off your chest, you had electricity zooming out of your fingertips. Not only that, you had—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, and now I don’t. My dream came crashing down just because this God of ours can’t seem to forgive me for one little old sin of—”
“Look, I learned a little while I was a priest, so listen to me. You’re not being punished because you sinned, in fact God’s not punishing you at all. If anything he’s played favorites with you by giving you a taste of what it feels like to be what you’ve always wanted to be. Hell, man, most people don’t even get that much. How many people are out there now walking around wishing, praying every day that their dream will come true? But unlike you, their wishing for things like houses, cars, riches, a good job, all while you were flying through the air, and catching flying bullets. And yet you’re still complaining. I don’t know why God doesn’t just send down another bolt of lightning and knock some sense into your head. All right, so it didn’t last long enough to please you, but my God, Gabe, you’re a human being. Just keep working out, and when you go out put on a bulletproof vest. You may not be the superhero you were, but hell, you’re still a good-lookin’ hunky guy that can give them bad guys hell. Just remember this. God gave you a gift. He gave that little boy in the window a taste of what it would be like to be a superhero. No, don’t rail your fist against God, instead count yourself lucky, and thank Him for it. Most people don’t even get that much.”
Night Flyer Page 8
