Against the Wall

by Alexa Land

  “You’re doing great, Shea,” I told him. He smiled at me, one of his hands tangling in my hair, the other resting on my lower back where the t-shirt rode up. I began taking him just a little faster and harder, watching his reactions closely.

  I could tell when he truly started enjoying it, when thinking and worrying gave way to pleasure. His eyes slid shut as he arched his back, his hips moving in rhythm with mine, and he murmured, “God yes,” before words gave way to sexy little moans and cries of pleasure.

  I ramped up my thrusts even more, to the point where my body was slapping against his with each down-stroke. I kissed him deeply, my tongue claiming his mouth as I pumped in and out of his tight little hole. He clutched me to him, his legs coming up to wrap around my waist, and I threw my head back and cried out, overwhelmed with pleasure.

  I fucked him hard as he yelled and started to cum, shooting all over his belly. In the next moment I was cumming too, my body almost convulsing from the force of my orgasm. I’d let my lids slide shut, but I opened them now, staring into the depths of his impossibly blue eyes as I ground out, “Oh fuck, Shea.” We clutched each other as our orgasms shook us. I came so hard that I saw spots, thrusting into him again and again, yelling incoherently.

  As I started to come down from that shattering orgasm, I was grateful for his strong arms around me. It felt like they were holding me together. I buried my face between his neck and shoulder, the last few reflexive thrusts of my hips slowing until I finally stilled in him. Both of us were shaking. Shea reached over and pulled the blanket over both of us, then continued to hold me securely as I tried to come back to myself. I had no explanation for it, but that had been the most intense sex of my life.

  “You okay, sweetheart?”

  That had come from Shea. He was hugging me to him, nuzzling my hair. It was as if I’d been the virgin, not him. All I could do was nod for now, not trusting my voice.

  It was a good minute or two before I finally began to regain my senses. That was when I realized I was laying right on top of Shea and probably crushing him. I reached down and held the base of the condom as I eased myself from his body, then rolled off him and discarded the rubber in a nearby wastepaper basket before pulling up my briefs and jeans. When I turned to face him, he drew me into his arms and kissed me gently.

  When I found my voice, I looked in his eyes and whispered, “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “I’m so much better than okay.” His smile was glorious. I curled up against his bare chest, wondering when exactly our roles had reversed, when I’d become the one that needed comforting and reassuring. He must think I was completely nuts for acting like this, but he was too nice to say anything.

  For just a few minutes, I let myself enjoy this. Being in his arms felt so good. It felt safe, like nothing could hurt me as long as I stayed right here.

  Finally though, I sat up and pushed my hair out of my eyes. There were voices downstairs, Shea’s roommates had obviously returned. “I think that’s my cue to get out of here and let you get back to the plans you made with your friends,” I said.

  “Or don’t.” He looked so tranquil as he tucked a hand under his head and watched me.

  “I have to. I’m expected in Oakland and you have a birthday to celebrate.”

  “Stay, Christian.”

  I was already pulling on my shoes, though. “This was just a one-time thing, remember?”

  “I know you said that, but you can’t tell me what just happened between us wasn’t extraordinary. Even I know that.”

  I turned to look at him and admitted, “It was. That was absolutely amazing. But when I said it was just going to be this one time, I meant it.”

  As I stood up and zipped my jeans he asked, “What are you so afraid of, Christian?”

  I fastened my belt and didn’t look at him as I said, “Hurting you. I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.”

  I started to go, but Shea was up in a flash, gathering me in his arms and resting his head on my shoulder as I leaned my forehead against his bedroom door. “Thank you for not wanting to hurt me. I’m a full-grown man though, despite all evidence to the contrary,” he gestured at the posters beside us, “and I can take care of myself.”

  “I know. But still.”

  “I have no idea what you’re running from, Christian, but I want you to know something.” He turned me gently to face him and picked up my chin so I was looking into his eyes. “I’ll be right here. If you change your mind in an hour or a day or a month, you know where to find me. I want more from you, whatever you have to give.”

  I leaned in and kissed him, because I had to. I wanted more too, so much more. But that was such a mistake. He’d get hurt if I let him get close to me. That was an absolute, unavoidable fact.

  “Thank you, Shea,” I said, keeping my voice fairly steady even though I felt really emotional. “I’ll never forget this. I hope you have a great birthday.”

  I left him there and went downstairs. His roommates were in the living room, clustered around the board game. Everyone stopped talking and looked at me with so much hope and anticipation when I appeared in the foyer.

  I paused and told them, “You have an amazingly wonderful friend. Take good care of him for me, okay?” I left without waiting for their reply.

  Chapter Three

  I walked several blocks back to the bar, trying to recall where exactly I’d left my Jeep. It really felt like December, a strong wind cutting through my thin t-shirt and making my teeth chatter. When I finally reached my car, I pulled a black ski jacket from the backseat and put it on. I also located a little zip-top bag of pills that was in a duffle bag on the floor and washed them down with a half-empty water bottle. Then got behind the wheel and started the engine.

  Instead of driving away, I just sat there for a while, trying to process what had happened. That hadn’t just been great sex, it had been much more. I felt such an intense connection to Shea. If things were different, I knew for a fact I’d want to pursue something with him. I’d have loved to get to know him and spend time with him. It would have been a joy to teach him to draw, and to let him teach me who the rest of those cardboard figures were that lined his living room.

  Okay, enough already. I was depressing myself, and that just wasn’t helpful. I turned up the heater and put the car in gear.

  Before visiting Skye, I decided to stop by the mural I’d been working on last night to see what it looked like in the light of day. I cut through town and found an almost-legal parking spot half a block away. When I rounded the corner into the alley, I was surprised to find someone was already there, studying the mural thoughtfully.

  “Hey, Chance.”

  He turned his head to look at me and smiled. He was dressed in a black denim jacket along with a marled dark red scarf and matching fingerless gloves, one hand wrapped around a big cup of coffee, the other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans. “So, you’re insane,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Quite possibly. What gave me away?”

  He gestured at the mural with the coffee cup. “You were painting here, and yet your escape route was over there.” He swung the cup to indicate the seedy hotel two doors down. “Does that mean you actually leapt from rooftop to rooftop like Spiderman in your efforts to allude the authorities?”

  “Yes.” Chance raised a dark eyebrow at that and I added, “It worked out. I survived.”

  He shook his head, turning his attention back to the mural. “You clearly have a death wish.”

  “I really don’t.”

  “This is extraordinary, though. It’s going to end up being one of the best things you’ve ever done.”

  I eyed the girl’s face critically and said, “I don’t know about that. Now that I see it in the light, the highlights are all wrong.”

  “You’re just a perfectionist, this is amazing. I like the way your style’s evolving. I can always tell your earlier works from your more recent stuff. You’re really
starting to figure out your voice.”

  “There isn’t much of my early stuff left. It’s either been painted over or the buildings have been demolished. Just goes to show the incredible futility in trying to leave a lasting mark on the world.”

  “You kept photos though, didn’t you?” Chance asked. “I always take pictures of your murals and I’m so happy every time I come across one I haven’t seen before. It’s like a giant, city-wide Easter egg hunt.”

  “Nah, I never keep pictures of anything. It’s nice that you do, though. Someday, that’ll be all that’s left.” I turned to him and asked, “Are the pictures on your phone? I’m curious which ones you’ve found.”

  “There are a few on here, but I always go back and take photos with my real camera after I discover a new mural. They deserve better than just a snapshot.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and swiped through it, being careful not to tip over the coffee in the process.

  “This was one of my favorites,” he said, turning the screen toward me. “It was right around the corner from my apartment. I was so sad when someone bought that old building and painted over this.” On the screen was one of my earliest murals. It was of two young boys, each eight feet high, laughing, running and holding hands, a colorful fantasy city around them. “They painted that building grey,” Chance continued. “From this to grey. I wanted to cry.”

  “Wow, you really are a fan. I kind of wondered if you’d just been bullshitting me last night.”

  “Oh no, I’m the real deal. I’ll even admit that I’ve been in this alley for two hours, just hoping you’d come by.” He returned the phone to his pocket.

  “Okay, now that has to be bullshit. No one would do that.”

  “I would, and here’s proof.” He reached up and touched his fingertips to my cheek. They were icy. “The coffee went cold over an hour ago, too. But somehow, I just knew you’d come back here sooner rather than later.”

  “Based on what?”

  “Based on the fact that you live for this and you got interrupted last night. I knew you’d want to come take a look and see how far you’d gotten, maybe plan ahead for tonight.”

  “I can’t come back here tonight,” I told him as I picked up his free hand and held his frigid fingertips between my palms to warm them up. “The police know to check back repeatedly with works in progress. It’ll be a few days before they give up and go back to their usual patrol patterns. I’ll have to start another mural somewhere else in the meantime.” I looked back at the mural with more than a little longing. That was what I really wanted to be working on, but I didn’t have much choice.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “I know. So what are you doing today, now that you’ve successfully stalked me?”

  Chance shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “You’re not working today?”

  “Nope. I really needed a day off, for the sake of my mental health.”

  “In that case, come on a field trip with me. I’m about to head over to Oakland, my best friend’s renting a warehouse over there. He’s a sculptor, I think you’d love his work.”

  He tilted his head and looked at me curiously. “I’m a total stranger and you know what I do for a living. Are you really willing to trust me around your friend and his studio? What if I’m a druggie looking to rip him off for my next fix?”

  “You’re not.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I trust my instincts, so I know you’re a good guy, Chance. Now come on, let’s get you a fresh cup of coffee and then crank the heater in my Jeep. I feel responsible for turning you into an ice cube.”

  “That’s stupid. You didn’t tell me to wait out here.”

  “Yeah, okay. I don’t feel guilty.” I started to head out of the alley the way I’d come in. When Chance started to follow me, he was limping severely. “Shit, what happened?”

  He sighed and said, “It looks worse than it is.”

  “But what happened?”

  “That trick last night was a total freak. When he tied me up, my leg was in a really bad position and I ended up straining a muscle. I would have told him, but he’d already bound my hands and put a ball gag in my mouth by that point.”

  I turned my head to look at him. “Do you mean the baby-faced guy that you picked up at Rounders?”

  “Yup.”

  “Wow. He looked so vanilla.”

  “Never judge an ice cream by its carton,” Chance said, tossing his empty cup in a trash can when we reached the street. He paused and asked, “Don’t you need your painting gear? You must have stashed it somewhere, since it wasn’t on you when we met last night.”

  “Nah, I have duplicates of everything I need. I’ll leave that stuff here for when I can start working on that mural again.”

  At a neighborhood convenience store, I bought us both large coffees and a couple good-looking bagels that were stuffed with cream cheese and diced black olives. “A man who laughs in the face of carbs. I like it,” my companion said as I pocketed my change and handed him his breakfast.

  “I forget to eat half the time. So I figure, when I do eat, I can pretty much have whatever I want. It all evens out.”

  “Plus, running from the police is excellent cardio,” he said.

  “It really is.”

  *****

  We pulled up in front of my friend’s warehouse art studio about an hour later. Traffic had been heavy crossing the bridge, but Chance was good company. We’d both seen the same artists’ retrospective at one of the local galleries a couple weeks ago and discussed it in depth. He really had a passion for art, though he claimed he had no discernable talent of his own.

  “This place is huge,” Chance murmured as he stepped onto the sidewalk and looked up at the building.

  “It needs to be. Skye does really large-scale sculptures. Also, half of this space is being converted into his fiancé’s dance studio and eventually a theater for the performing arts. Dare had surgery a few months ago and is still healing though, so they’ve been going slowly on the renovations.”

  We could hear Lady Gaga blaring even before we stepped into the warehouse. Skye and Dare were in the middle of the big open space, ballroom dancing to her song Applause. It was an odd mix, yet somehow they were making it work.

  Chance leaned close and yelled over the music, “Okay, I’m officially in love with your friends.”

  “Just wait. You’ll never meet anyone like Skye, not if you live to be a hundred.”

  A big black and white dog loped over, greeting us both with a wagging tail and slobbery licks. Benny didn’t really understand the concept of strangers. “Hey pup,” I said, scratching his ears. Chance held out a hand tentatively for the dog to sniff, then kept an eye on him as the boxer trotted off to jump up and down around his owners.

  It took him a minute to realize we were here, but once Skye spotted me, he let out a whoop and ran at me flat out. I burst out laughing and tried to dodge him, but he caught me around the waist and swung me in a circle. He dropped me back onto my feet and dotted my cheeks with kisses, then hauled off and punched me in the arm. “I missed you!” he yelled over the music. “And that’s for being allegedly too busy for your best friend. Douche!”

  His fiancé turned down the music and crossed the space to us as Skye aimed his brilliant smile at my companion, introduced himself and said, “Welcome!”

  “I’m Chance, and thank you. I like your blue hair.”

  “Thanks. It’s fading out though, I need to color it again.” He blew upwards, ruffling his overgrown royal blue bangs, then picked up his partner’s hand as he joined us. “This is my fiancé, Dare. Dare, Chance.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Chance said.

  “Likewise. Come on in and join the dance party. Skye’s supposed to be welding, but you know how that goes.” He grinned at Skye affectionately.

  “I was working up to it. You know the routine. First Gaga, then work. Then more Gaga,” Skye said as he led the way into the sp
ace.

  As soon as we stepped around a little partition, Chance exclaimed, “Holy fuck!” His blue eyes had gone wide at the sight of Skye’s sculptures.

  The middle piece was just about complete. It stood about fifteen feet high and depicted a male dancer leaping through the air, arms over his head, one muscular leg stretched in front of him, the other behind. Somehow the whole thing was balanced on a thin, arched beam, meeting the figure at the ankle of the backwards-facing leg. The support was made of shiny stainless steel, along with the base it was attached to, while the figure was composed of rusty scrap iron. Somehow the support suggested movement instead of grounding the dancer. The whole thing was completely brilliant.

  Two huge armatures were just beginning to take shape on either side of that sculpture. They were still in the earliest stages, little more than iron cages. But I could already see how they were going to complement and even emphasize the central piece.

  “I really wish I’d brought my camera,” Chance murmured, approaching the dancer slowly. “This is beautiful. Skye, you’re amazingly gifted, just like Christian.”

  “That’s sweet, thanks. Feel free to come back any time if you want to take pictures.” Skye was studying the piece and knitting his brows slightly. I knew that look. He was even more of a perfectionist than I was, and if he saw one little thing that seemed out of place to him, he wouldn’t hesitate to pry it off and re-weld it. That was why, even though the sculpture was technically complete, it wouldn’t truly be finished until the day six months from now when he turned it in for his senior project.

  “Are you okay?” Dare asked as he watched Chance’s pronounced limp. “Want to come sit down in the living room?”

  “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. Sitting down does sound like a good idea, though,” Chance said.