by Tia Fielding
Chapter 10
Addiction was a terrible thing. Lying there in the moonlit bedroom, Aaron could read the history of it on Quinn’s face, in the faint lines across his forehead, at the corners of his eyes, and in the thinness of his face. He didn’t like that Quinn, who’d once been young and vibrant and full of life, had chosen to hurt himself like that. And yeah, maybe that made him the world’s biggest hypocrite the way he’d been drinking lately, but somehow it upset him more that Quinn, who until now had been enshrined in his memory as someone forever beautiful, had ravaged himself with drugs than it did that Aaron was currently working on doing the same with booze. Maybe it was because Aaron had never thought he was special, but he’d always remembered Quinn that way. Despite the way everything had ended between them.
And now here they were, lying on the bed, their faces turned toward one another in the faint moonlight, and Aaron suspected Quinn was waiting for him to make the first move. No, more than that, he needed Aaron to make the first move. That was nothing like the old Quinn either.
Aaron rolled toward him, and then lifted his hand and touched Quinn’s cheek. Quinn’s eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a soft breath, and Aaron’s heart clenched. He’d spent a lot of time telling himself that he hated Quinn MacGregor, but it had always been a lie. Even now, years later, they were drawn together like magnets, unable to resist this. Even if this was the dumbest idea in the world, it felt right in ways that Aaron couldn’t fully articulate. Whatever Quinn had come here for tonight, whatever he needed, he wasn’t the only one.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he said. “Gonna kiss you too.”
The second sounded even more confronting than the first, and he was sure Quinn would refuse.
Quinn’s mouth twitched in the darkness—nervousness or the start of a sneer he’d tugged back under control, Aaron couldn’t tell. “Okay,” he said. “It’s been a while, though.”
“I’ll take it slow,” Aaron said.
Quinn pressed his mouth into a thin line for a moment. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Shut up.” Aaron slipped a hand behind Quinn’s head, guiding him gently as their mouths met and opened. Quinn’s tongue darted quickly against Aaron’s, and then drew back again. He was nervous, Aaron thought, of the softness of the kiss. This wasn’t the sort of kiss that was a prelude to fucking. This was the sort of kiss that led to making love. Aaron felt a rush of power to have unsettled Quinn in such a simple way, even as he resolved to soothe him with the same kiss. He slipped his tongue into Quinn’s mouth slowly and discovered the taste of his mouth. The bitter aftertaste of coffee and cigarettes.
Aaron groaned, and pulled Quinn closer. Quinn came easily. Aaron could feel his erection pressing against his thigh.
“I want you on your back,” Aaron said. “I want you face to face.”
Quinn rolled away from him, into a seated position with his feet on the floor. Then he stood and slid his borrowed boxers down. The moonlight painted his skin in light and shadow. Aaron saw scars on his back that he hadn’t noticed before, and he watched the way the muscles in Quinn’s ass flexed as he bent and pulled the boxers free of his ankles.
Aaron wished he could move so fluidly. He tugged his shirt over his head, and then sat and wrestled his boxers off. He was sweaty with exertion before they’d even started, but his dick was hard and throbbing, and no way was he stopping now.
And then Quinn walked out of the room.
The fuck? Aaron stared blankly after him, unsure if he should be mortified, or furious, or concerned. He still hadn’t decided when Quinn reappeared in the doorway, his jeans bundled up in his hands as he searched through the pockets.
A moment later he was back, lying on the bed, clutching a foil-wrapped condom and a packet of lube.
“Never figured you for a boy scout,” Aaron said.
Quinn rolled his eyes and spread his legs.
Aaron reached for the supplies. He tore the condom packet open, and rolled the condom over his dick. Gripped himself tightly at the base of his shaft so he didn’t come too soon, and then hefted himself over to land on his knees between Quinn’s legs, grimacing at how ungainly the movement was. He took most of his weight on his left knee, unwilling to test the right one yet, and grateful as hell that the amputation was below his knee so that he didn’t have to put his weight on his stump.
He slid a hand up Quinn’s thigh, finally getting that skin-on-skin contact he figured they both needed tonight. The soft dark hairs crinkled under his palm, and the muscles in Quinn’s thigh tensed under his touch, and then relaxed again. It was a heady feeling, having this much control over Quinn’s involuntary reflexes. It was almost disappointing to lift his hand so he could tear the packet of lube open.
Quinn’s body stiffened as Aaron slipped his hand down past his cock, past his balls, and pressed into the warm crease of his body. Aaron wished he could see what he was doing, but he wanted to offer Quinn the security of his warmth. He didn’t want to leave him exposed. He went by feel instead, his fingers pressing gently against Quinn’s tight opening. He slipped a fingertip inside, and Quinn jerked and moaned, his hips shifting.
“Fuck!” It escaped Quinn’s mouth on a hiss of air.
“Take it for me,” Aaron said, his heart beating faster because he knew this was how Quinn needed it. He slipped his finger deeper inside Quinn’s body, twisting it against the tight wall of muscle.
Quinn moaned and shifted again.
Aaron felt Quinn’s muscles ease against his finger, even as Quinn squeezed his eyes shut and scowled. Jesus, even his scowl was gorgeous. Aaron had always thought so.
He withdrew his finger and then pushed two back inside. Quinn clenched around him. Aaron began to scissor his fingers gently, and then crooked them, looking for that sweet spot.
“Jesus, fuck! Aaron!”
“Found it, huh?” Aaron was unable to stop a cocky grin spreading across his face.
Quinn snorted. “It’s not like it changed addresses in the last decade, asshole.”
Aaron laughed, and Quinn’s mouth twisted as he fought his own grin.
Sex hadn’t been fun when they’d been kids. It had been intense, messy, sometimes awkward, and desperate. He didn’t think they’d ever laughed.
Aaron worked his fingers for a few more minutes, and then shifted back to ease the dull ache in his lower back. He looked down at Quinn’s cock. It was pressed hard up against his abdomen. It was leaking clear precum. Aaron wanted to taste it. He ducked down and licked the head of Quinn’s cock. It leapt under his tongue, and Quinn moaned.
Aaron rose again, licking his lips. He ran his hands along the inside of Quinn’s thighs, pushing them more fully open, and then up. Quinn shifted, reaching down to hold his legs up, and Aaron cupped his balls and squeezed them gently. Quinn moaned.
Aaron notched his cock up against Quinn’s tight entrance, and leaned forward again. He stretched out over Quinn. He took his weight on one hand, the other guiding his cock, and was gratified when Quinn lifted his chin up for a kiss. Aaron drew Quinn’s bottom lip into his mouth, and slowly pushed the head of his cock inside Quinn’s body.
Quinn groaned. There was a ragged edge to it, and Aaron waited, his heart thumping, for Quinn to tell him to stop.
Quinn’s head dropped back onto the mattress. His eyes were closed. “Keep going.”
Aaron went as slowly as he’d ever gone with anyone, pushing in a fraction, drawing back, and pushing in again. He felt Quinn’s muscles tense and flutter around his straining cock. He felt those muscles yield slowly, inch by inch. So fucking tight! Aaron wanted to push in up to the hilt, to set his own frantic pace, to find his own pleasure, but he couldn’t. This was better than hard and fast. This was an act of trust.
Aaron’s body shook as the head of his cock pushed against Quinn’s gland and Quinn’s body arched against him. Quinn’s hands found his hips, his fingers digging in as he held him Aaron and breathed raggedly into his ear. “Fuck, Aaron. Oh. Oh
fuck.”
Aaron groaned as he felt his balls come to rest against Quinn’s ass. “Holy shit.”
Quinn opened his eyes, his dark gaze meeting Aaron’s and holding it.
Aaron pulled back, feeling Quinn’s muscles flutter, and then thrust slowly back in. He angled his hips so that his cock rode against Quinn’s gland, and Quinn gasped and shuddered. His hard cock throbbed between their sweaty bodies, and Aaron grinned.
“You want that fucking now?”
“Do it, Aaron. Fuck me.”
Aaron began to thrust more quickly. He groaned as he felt Quinn’s legs wrap around him, pulling him closer. He wished he was closer; wished he could kiss him, but he was concentrating on angling his thrusts now, concentrating on finding a rhythm, concentrating on holding himself above Quinn without his body giving out on him. He was trembling so much with the effort that if he leaned down for a kiss, he thought he’d collapse on top of Quinn.
Quinn didn’t break his gaze.
Aaron thrust steadily, bringing those eyes in and out of focus as he shifted back and forth. They seemed preternaturally bright in the faint light of the moonlit room. Aaron couldn’t look away if he tried.
“Aaron,” Quinn murmured, his fingers tightening on Aaron’s hips. His voice cracked as he raised his hips to meet Aaron’s thrusts. “Aaron!”
Aaron gasped for breath. “Quinn!”
Quinn arched up. He tightened his legs around Aaron. His whole body jerked and shuddered, and he came first. Aaron’s balls contracted as Quinn shuddered and his hot cum spurted between their stomachs. Aaron snapped his hips quickly. A shiver ran up his spine and then he came as well, his cock pulsing inside Quinn’s trembling flesh.
Aaron gasped. “Jesus!”
Quinn panted for breath.
Aaron withdrew. His hands were shaking so much he could hardly pull off the condom. He grimaced and dropped it on the floor, too fucking wrecked to put his leg back on and make the trek to the bathroom right now.
“Did you just—” Quinn rolled up into a seated position. “Fucking gross, man.”
“Fuck off,” Aaron murmured, relaxing into the mattress.
Quinn rose to his feet and padded around the bed. He picked up the condom and disappeared out the door.
Fucking finicky for an addict, a part of Aaron wanted to yell after him, but it felt like a low blow tonight, even for them. So he yelled, instead, “Get me a beer?”
He heard the toilet flush, and then, a little while later, the floorboards creaked as Quinn headed for the kitchen. He was back shortly afterward, a lit cigarette in his mouth, a beer in one hand, and a coffee mug ashtray in the other. He passed Aaron the beer, and then settled back in the bed beside him, a pillow jammed between his spine and the headboard.
Aaron sat up and cracked the beer open. He watched Quinn smoke, each inhale illuminating his face.
“What’d you come here for tonight?” he asked at last.
Quinn shrugged and looked away. “Don’t ask me that, Aaron.”
Aaron’s stomach sank. It wasn’t regret. It was the same disquiet he’d felt before. The feeling that he and Quinn were right together, but that nothing good could come of it.
“You can stay if you want,” he said. “But chances are Uncle Will’s gonna turn up in the morning with breakfast.”
“Yeah.” Quinn’s mouth turned down. “I don’t exactly want to run into the law.”
“I figured.” Aaron sipped his beer. “What’s stopping you from going back to Chicago, Quinn? Whatever you’re here for, it can’t end well.”
“Uncle Ian’s dying,” Quinn said, his voice low. “You probably don’t remember, but he was…he was always good to me. I don’t give a fuck about the rest of the family, and I’m not here to step into my dad’s shoes, okay?” He looked for a moment like he was going to say something else, but shook his head instead, and took another drag on his cigarette. “All this shit with Charlie and my—her kid, and with you…shit, I never saw any of it coming. I never thought I’d run into either of you again.”
“I thought of you,” Aaron said softly. “In Afghanistan. You know they say your life flashes before your eyes? That was bullshit in my case, but afterwards…I did a lot of lying around in a bunch of different hospital beds, with nothing to do but think. And I thought of you a lot. Not how you are now. I thought of you when you were seventeen, and how alive I felt that summer. How perfect everything was. Was it just nostalgia?”
Quinn’s mouth curled up in a bitter smile. “No. It wasn’t nostalgia, but we were dumb kids who thought we could get away from this town. It just dragged us both back in though, didn’t it? There’s no escaping it.”
“Like a black hole,” Aaron said.
Quinn snorted. “I was thinking more like the grave.”
And there was more truth in that than Aaron wanted to admit.
* * * *
“Aaron? You in here, kid?”
Aaron jerked away, his heart beating frantically as he twisted to look at the other side of the bed. But Quinn, and all trace of him, was gone.
“Aaron?” Uncle Will called again, and opened the door. “There you are. I bought you a breakfast burrito.”
“Okay,” Aaron said. “Give me a second here.”
“I’ll put the coffee on.”
It took Aaron a while to get his leg attached and to pull his boxers on. He stood, wincing at the pain in his stump. His crutches were in the den, he thought. He’d take his leg off after Uncle Will left and use them for the rest of the day. Give his stump a break.
He walked out to the kitchen, hating the awkwardness of his gait.
Uncle Will was making coffee like he promised. “You look like hell.”
“I actually slept okay,” Aaron said. It wasn’t even a lie. “Brody came over yesterday and helped with the rest of the wallpaper in the den.”
“It’s looking good,” Uncle Will said. “It’ll look a hell of a lot better once you paint.”
“Yeah.” Aaron sat down at the table and unwrapped his burrito. “What’s going on with the MacGregors, Uncle Will?”
Uncle Will sighed. “How about you leave the MacGregors to me, kid?”
“It’s going to come to a head between Jimmy and Quinn, isn’t it?”
Uncle Will dragged his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. He had more gray these days, but he carried it well. He was a handsome guy. He had a movie star smile that didn’t belong in somewhere as shitty as Spruce Creek. Aaron had crushed on him when he was a kid, which was embarrassing to think about now, but he figured that probably half the town could say the same thing.
“Probably,” Uncle Will admitted at last. “That’s Brody’s opinion, is it?”
Aaron shrugged, because he didn’t want to admit he’d talked, and more, to Quinn.
“Well, it’s no secret,” Uncle Will said. “Jimmy’s a hothead. He’s trouble, and he’s sure as hell not happy that Quinn’s back in town, because some of the MacGregors’ boys will be whispering that Quinn should be first in line to take over.” He shook his head as he carried Aaron’s coffee over to the table and set it down. “You know, a man can talk until he’s blue in the face, but people like the MacGregors? They don’t listen. There’s going to be bloodshed, because the MacGregors don’t know any other way. All I can do is hope to keep enough heat on them that doesn’t spill over outside the clan.”
Aaron sipped his coffee. “Do you think it will?”
Uncle Will closed his eyes briefly. “Hell, I hope not, but if history’s any indication…”
Aaron’s chest ached as he thought of his dad. “Yeah.”
Spruce Creek was nothing but a shithole town in the middle of Nevada that most people had never even heard of. It didn’t matter a goddamn to the outside world, and its underbelly was full of redneck meth dealers who thought they were gangsters. Kick over a rock in Spruce Creek and you’d uncover a dozen little scorpions that didn’t look like shit. They could still kill you though.
Spruce Creek had killed the best man Aaron had ever known. It was almost a foregone conclusion it’d kill another man he’d once loved.
Quinn wasn’t a fool. He’d come back to town with his eyes open. He’d made his choice.
In the end, the bitter, hard, closed-off man with flashes of vulnerability that Aaron had fucked in his bed last night would be just another distant memory, just like the boy from that golden summer was now. A memory for Aaron to love and to regret and to mourn, and nothing more.
Chapter 11
Just like that summer a decade ago, Aaron had given Quinn exactly what he’d needed before Quinn himself knew what to ask for, exactly.
When he’d slipped out of bed just past five, it was the most relaxed he’d been in…well, months. Of course, it wasn’t just the amazing sex. That would’ve been a stupid thought to have—Quinn could get that anywhere. No, it was Aaron.
When Quinn was a teenager and had started to figure out the constant low-level danger his family lived in because what they did for a living, getting rid of an equally low level of alertness and fear had been rough.
There were times when he’d managed to relax, like when he sank into a good book or a computer game. Some movies had done that for him, too. But it wasn’t until that summer when he realized he could feel completely safe around a person other than his mom.
Charlie and Aaron had become his safety net. Sure, he’d had a crush on the blond sheriff’s kid at school for a while before that party. Hell, he’d come out as bi to his mom before that party, and she’d told him to live his truth in the safest way possible. That meant to never, ever tell his dad.
Quinn had an addictive personality, and now that he was off drugs, his faulty brain was looking for other things to get hung up on. He didn’t like the fact that his heart was jumping onto that bandwagon and showing his brain which way to go.
Nobody that had any ties to Quinn would be safe in this town if shit really hit the fan. Sure, Jimmy had settled for the time being, but Quinn knew his cousin. When they were kids, he’d learned that Jimmy held grudges and would, eventually, lash out, sometimes out of nowhere.
