by Alexa Land
“It’s too much, though,” I told him as I took his hands. “No one should have to sacrifice everything for their partner. And you would have to sacrifice everything: your job, your time, your whole life.”
“But it’s not a sacrifice, Christian, because I love you.”
“It won’t all just be on Shea’s shoulders, either,” Skye said. “I’m going to help too, and so is your dad.”
“My dad can’t help anybody,” I said.
“Sure he can,” Skye insisted. “He just has certain limitations. I had a long conversation with him over the phone. Zan’s willing to do whatever he can to help you. He loves you so much, Christian. Granted, he’s pretty heavily in denial. But he said until a cure’s found, which he totally believes in, you and Shea can move in with him and he’ll help take care of you. He also suggested hiring nurses to come in several hours a day for the stuff that you might be too embarrassed to have one of us deal with. I thought that was a good idea.”
“We can’t bring a bunch of strangers into Zan’s home,” I said. “What if one of the nurses went to the paparazzi? They’d make a fortune by ratting him out.”
“There are plenty of agencies that screen their employees thoroughly and ensure privacy,” Skye said.
I stared at him for a long moment before saying, “So basically, I go off on a drunken bender and meanwhile you two, along with my slightly unhinged father, plan my entire life for me.”
“Yup, and we’re totally right while you’re totally wrong. Now get that shower, Z. You reek. Use lots of soap. Probably want to lather, rinse, repeat.” Skye spun around and vacated the bathroom.
I sighed as I watched him walk away, then turned to Shea and asked, “Are you still mad at me?”
“Not really, but you did scare the crap out of me, Christian.”
“I’m so sorry. I know I’m not dealing with things very well.”
“You think?” He kissed my forehead, then said, “I’ll go get us some dinner, I bet you’re starving. I am, too. Don’t forget what Skye said about the soap.” He closed the door behind him as he left.
I stripped off my wet clothes, turned the shower back on, and stood under the warm water for a long time. My head was absolutely pounding, but I figured most of that was a hangover. My mouth felt like cotton, too. Ugh. That was the problem with drinking. Sooner or later, you had to sober up and then you had all of that waiting for you.
I shampooed my hair and washed myself thoroughly, then toweled off and brushed my teeth. As I combed out my overgrown hair, I stared at myself in the mirror. My green eyes were bloodshot and my complexion had a slightly grey tinge to it, putting me somewhere in the zombie-to-vampire range. Awesome.
A visit to my closet reminded me I hadn’t done laundry in quite a while. I pulled on a pair of black low-slung jeans and a grey t-shirt consisting of more holes than fabric and went out into the living room. “Wow,” Shea said with a smile, turning his attention away from the takeout containers he was unpacking onto my table. “That’s quite a look.”
“You missed Christian’s rock star phase,” Skye told him. “It’s a shame too, because it was really something to behold. He’d show up in nothing but those jeans and a couple silver necklaces and call that dressed. Why’d you outgrow your rocker phase, Z?” he asked me. “I miss it.”
I shrugged and said, “Just not feeling all that rock and roll lately.”
“What’s the Z stand for?” Shea wanted to know.
“Zane, the name Christian uses for his art,” Skye said. “Has he ever shown you his work?”
“Just the scrapbook his friend Chance made for him.”
“I want to see that,” Skye exclaimed, and after I pointed it out to him he vaulted over the back of the couch, took it from the coffee table and started leafing through it.
“Why Zane?” Shea asked as he folded the brown paper bag the take-out had come in.
“It’s the names ‘Zan Tillane’ merged together,” I explained. “I was always worried about using my last name because it’s fairly uncommon, so I guess I started using Zane as a way of...I don’t know, honoring my relationship with my dad, I guess. It’s kind of weird. I’m proud to be his son, yet I could never tell anyone, in case the media found out about me and my entire life got dragged into the spotlight.”
“I never knew the story behind that name,” Skye said, looking up at me from the scrapbook. “I’m glad I do now.”
“Speaking of Zan, how was he when you spoke to him?” I asked. “I was supposed to go see him yesterday. I really fucked up.”
“He was relieved when I called him a few minutes ago,” Shea told me. “He also said, ‘Remind my son that once he gets his shite together, he still owes me a Harry Potter movie marathon.’ You’ve now been reminded.”
“He’s right, I do.”
Shea followed me into the kitchen and took some plates from the cabinet as I sighed quietly and pulled all my prescription bottles from the back of the drawer, then lined them up on the counter. I slid one bottle toward him. “This is what I took the day you came by and wanted to know what I’d combined with alcohol. It’s my strongest pain killer. I don’t take it every day, just when needed.” I separated out seven bottles and said, “This is what I take every day. These four,” I pulled some bottles forward, “are taken in combination to slow the growth of the tumor. The remaining three help with the headaches I always have. They started getting worse recently, right around the time my motor skills took a downturn.”
“Did you call your doctor?”
“Yeah. He’s on vacation until next week.”
“Couldn’t you speak to someone else?”
“There’s no point,” I said as I grabbed a paper towel and started shaking pills onto it, some in multiples. “He’s the only one that understands my history and the million different drug combinations we’ve tried over the last three years. No other doctor can step in blindly and do anything for me.”
“Why have I never seen these pill bottles before? Were you intentionally hiding them from me?”
“Pretty much. You don’t need to be continually reminded of what’s happening to me.”
“Skye’s right. You do keep a lot to yourself.”
“I guess so.”
He took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. “I’m not giving you this because I think you’re too frail to do it yourself,” he said. “I just have good manners and like to help out.” He grinned a little as he handed me the glass.
“Thank you.” I scooped up the tablets in three batches because I’d learned the hard way that it was impossible to swallow over a dozen pills at one time. After I washed them down, I told him, “I know I have a major chip on my shoulder about people treating me like I’m infirmed and I know I really need to get over that. I also realized, once I stopped and thought about it, that you were always the type of man to open doors and do thoughtful things for me, long before you knew I was sick. That’s just who you are. It wasn’t fair of me to resent your natural helpfulness after I told you about my condition.”
His grin got a little wider and he slipped his hands around my waist. “Where’d that come from all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know. It’s the truth though.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek, then said, “Disappearing for days was a really shitty thing to do to you and I feel terrible about it. I promise I’ll never do anything like that again.”
“You’re dealing with a lot and the pressure got to you.”
“Still. That was such a stupid thing to do.”
“I’m just relieved you’re alright. When you disappeared I imagined the worst, but Skye kept talking me down and assuring me it was going to be alright. He’s such a good guy.”
“I really am,” he called from the other room, and Shea and I both chuckled. “Now would you wrap up the not-at-all-private conversation and come back in here so we can eat this Chinese food? I’m hungry enough to gnaw on the couch!”
I went to pu
t the glass in the sink and that was when I noticed it was completely full of empty liquor bottles. “Well shit,” I murmured. “I see where those four days went.”
Shea knit his brows as he looked at the bottles. “I didn’t think it was possible for one person to drink that much and live to tell about it.”
“None of those started out full, but still.”
“Well, that’s good at least. Now come on, let’s go pry Skye off the furniture.”
We joined my friend at the dining table. He’d picked up the sketches I’d scattered all over the floor and asked about them, so I explained about my father’s extravagant present as I scooped fried rice onto my plate and passed the container. “I love the idea of an art and music center,” Skye exclaimed. “Can I volunteer to teach the kids to sculpt?”
“Absolutely. No giving the ten-and-under set welding torches, though. I’m going to guess there are laws against that sort of thing. Also, you may not be allowed to give them rusty hunks of metal that you find in dumpsters.”
“Well, despite your efforts to immediately suck all the joy out of it, I can work around your totally oppressive rules.” Skye grinned at me and added, “Seriously, this sounds like so much fun! I’ll help you get it up and running too, if you want.”
“Thanks. The whole thing’s pretty overwhelming. My dad’s having his lawyer look into zoning ordinances, setting up nonprofit status, insurance, and so on. At least I don’t have to worry about that stuff. Meanwhile, I’ve gotten hung up on the outside of the building. My dad intended it to be a great big canvas for my artwork, but I guess I’m kind of daunted. The thing’s huge and I don’t have a clear idea of what I want to do, but I feel like I need to hurry up and think of something right now, before I lose the ability to paint. Actually, for all I know, I might have already lost it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump and haven’t painted in weeks. I’m afraid of what I’ll find when I give it a try.”
Skye considered what I’d said for a few moments as he chewed an eggroll, then pushed his chair back and crossed the room to a canvas bag in the corner. He plucked three cans of paint from it, stuck them under his arm, then slid both my living room windows open before coming back to the table and lining up the cans in front of me. “So, go find out.”
“You want me to paint something now?”
“Yup.”
“Where?”
Skye waved his hand. “Pick any one of your painfully dull white walls and go to town. Normally I wouldn’t advocate doing something like that to a rental, but it turns out you’re filthy freaking rich. So, screw the security deposit!” He smiled at me before tossing the end of the egg roll in the air and catching it in his mouth.
I considered that for a beat, then said, “Yeah, okay.” I got up and tucked two cans in the crook of my left arm. I shook the third as I walked over to the biggest empty wall in the living room. After thinking for just a moment while chewing on my lower lip, I popped the lid off the can of black paint with my thumb and started to paint. I was used to working quickly (usually under the threat of imminent arrest) and this was really small-scale compared to what I was used to, so in just minutes I’d completed my picture. I used the hot pink and blue paints to add some accents, and then I crossed to my front door and threw it open, because the apartment now reeked of spray paint. That immediately created a strong cross-breeze with the open windows, so the apartment began to air out quickly. It also made me break out in goose bumps, but it was worth it.
Skye let out a whoop and leapt to his feet, applauding, while Shea mumbled, “Oh wow.”
It was just a picture of the three of us sitting around the table, but it had turned out pretty good. I’d managed to capture Skye’s and Shea’s personalities in their expressions and their body language, which had been my main objective. Since I worked in fairly broad stokes I’d barely noticed the changes in my fine motor skills, which was a relief.
“I’ve never seen you work before,” Shea said as he got up and crossed the room to me. “That was amazing.”
“It was?”
“You’re incredibly gifted. Not only that, but between watching you produce this work of art out of nowhere and this, um, thought-provoking outfit, that was pretty much the sexiest thing ever.” He grinned at me before leaning over and kissing my shoulder, which was exposed through a big rip in the t-shirt.
Skye came over to us, eating directly from one of the white take-out boxes with a pair of chopsticks. “You need to start dressing like this again, Z, because you are a freaking rock star. This is so awesome! You just need to go down to that big, giant building, quit overthinking it, and paint the hell out of it. You totally got this.”
“You’re right,” I told him.
He flashed me a brilliant smile. “I know! I usually am. My brother disagrees, but it really is the truth. Now let’s put on some parkas and finish our dinner. This food’s going to be stone cold in about two minutes now that we’ve turned it into the arctic tundra in here.”
*****
Skye hung out with us for a couple hours. He acted no different than usual. Maybe he was great at keeping up illusions, or maybe he really was coping well with my revelation. Either way, he treated me the same as he always had. The three of us laughed and joked, and Skye regaled my boyfriend with every embarrassing Christian anecdote he could come up with, of which there were many. I was surprised how happy I felt, given the incredibly dark place I’d been in just a few days ago.
When my best friend went home to his fiancé, Shea gently pushed me back on the couch, then climbed on top of me and kissed me for a long time. He rested his forehead against mine and said softly, “I missed you so much. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew it had to be bad. Part of me thought you might have packed up and moved to that care facility already, even though your Jeep was still out front.”
“I wouldn’t do that without telling you.”
“Please don’t do it ever. You have to admit the idea your dad, Skye and I came up with is a good one. We’ll all help take care of you along with a team of home health care nurses.”
“Let’s not talk about this now. Please?”
He looked in my eyes and sighed quietly. But apparently he was willing to let the subject drop for now, because he ran his tongue up my neck, then licked my earlobe. Desire shot through me, and I slid my hands down his broad back and cupped his ass. Shea ground his hips against me and I could feel his erection already straining in his jeans as mine swelled beneath him. He reached between us and began massaging my cock through my clothes as he kissed me again, his tongue claiming my mouth.
I really liked the way he was taking the lead. His confidence had grown so much in the time we’d been together, and that was really sexy. It actually felt incredibly good to let him take control. I realized what I needed and wanted all of a sudden, and whispered, “Fuck me, Shea.” My heart started racing as he sat up a little and looked at me, a question in his eyes. I just nodded, pushing down my nervousness.
Shea swung off me and picked me up, then carried me to the bedroom as he kissed me tenderly. He stripped us both, then took his time exploring my body with his lips and tongue and fingertips. I knew I was ready for this, even though I gasped and flinched instinctively when he lightly ran a fingertip over my opening. He looked up at me and I told him, my voice rough, “Please don’t stop. I really want you inside me.”
“You sure?” When I nodded, he kissed my stomach and began lightly massaging my thighs as he took my cock between his lips and sucked me. It was a good instinct, relaxing me and giving me something else to focus on. I moaned, parting my legs for him, and he began lightly tracing soft little circles around my opening.
I pulled open the drawer on my nightstand and retrieved the lube with a shaking hand. I didn’t say anything. I just laid it on my belly, signaling I was ready for the next step.
Shea was incredibly tender and patient with me. I whimpered when his lubed fingertip first penetrated me and he stopped what he wa
s doing and looked up at me. “I’m okay,” I told him. “Please keep going.”
It was the first time anything had been inside me since the night of my rape so many years ago and panic had welled up in me. But I wasn’t that boy anymore, scared and helpless and forced. I was a man in love with a partner I trusted completely, and I wanted my man inside me. That faceless rapist had taken a lot from me, but he wasn’t going to take this, too. I breathed deeply and parted my legs wider, gently stroking Shea’s soft hair as he kissed my inner thigh.
He worked me open slowly, carefully. For all I knew, it might have taken hours before he got one finger in me, then a second. I lost all sense of time. He kept alternately kissing me or sucking my cock, his free hand lovingly caressing my body.
Eventually I told him I was ready, and he eased his cock into me slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time. It really hurt at first and I gasped at the pain. He eased off and said, “You gave me good advice when it was my first time. You told me to push back as if I was trying to push you out of me. That really helped, so maybe you should try it, sweetheart.”
Once he reminded me of that trick, it got a little easier. It was still an incredibly tight fit, and pretty uncomfortable, but my body was able to open up enough to accommodate him. He kissed me and stroked my cock, his other arm around me, sliding in slowly until finally he bottomed out in me. He looked in my eyes to gauge my reaction and I smiled up at him. “You okay, Christian?” he asked, and when I nodded he began moving in me.
As his cock started rubbing that spot deep inside me, pleasure took over. My body relaxed and I exhaled slowly. I began to stroke my cock, rocking my hips in time with his thrusts, and begged, “Harder, baby. Please.”
Shea got up on his knees, his hands grasping my waist, and watched as his cock slid in and out of me. He moaned and began thrusting harder and faster, his orgasm building. When we were both close I sat up and hugged him to me, bouncing on his thick shaft as I cried out. As soon as I felt his cock twitch and the first blast of cum fill me, I began cumming, too, my cock pressed between us. He held on to me, thrusting wildly, yelling as he came.
