Something Like Peace

by Kris T. Bethke

  “Please,” I panted, still watching, unable to look away. “Vincent, please.”

  “Made for this,” he murmured, then kissed my knee. He loosened my grip on his wrist, and transferred my hold to my leg, showing me he wanted me to pull it back and up. “All right, honey. Relax. Let me just—”

  “Fuck,” I breathed out as he pushed in with three fingers. The stretch and the burn were unbelievable, but God, it felt fantastic. Then he nudged my prostate, pressing hard for a second, and I practically screamed as my body curled in on itself. “Vincent! I’m gonna come. I am. If you just…a little more…right there.”

  “No,” he said decisively, and he pulled his fingers free.

  “Don’t stop! Oh my God, please, please don’t stop.”

  “Not stopping,” he assured me as he positioned himself between my thighs and pushed up my legs until my knees were at my chest. “Giving you more.”

  And he thrust in, sliding his cock into me with one long powerful shove.

  My world went completely white for a moment, my body protesting the intrusion and loving it at the same time. I screamed and panted and groaned, clutching at him, pulling him to me, trying to get him closer.

  Vincent ignored my wants, and instead, started pounding away. The rhythm was fast and hard and it hurt in the best possible way. My body was shaking, my dick was leaking, and all I wanted was more, harder, faster. I chanted the words, begging with my voice and my body, but Vincent was in control and all I could do was take what he gave. He thrust in again and again, the motion steady and just this side of punishing.

  Then he grabbed my cock, changed his angle, and with a long, drawn-out scream, I came all over his hand and my chest. I shot so hard I hit myself in the chin. And through it all, Vincent kept banging away, drawing it out, making it last. Finally, as I was just about to cry for mercy, he froze and grunted, shoving inside one last time.

  He collapsed on top of me and I easily took his weight, not even caring that my cum was squished between us and making a mess. We were both panting heavily, and parts of me were sore, but I’d just been given the best fuck of my entire life. I took a deep breath, then another, before I could wrap my arms around Vincent. It was peaceful, lying there with him. I’d never felt quite like that in bed with another person. I kissed the top of his head.

  I’d have to find the words to thank him later.

  Chapter 6

  For fifteen days, we filmed TV during the day and fucked like bunnies at night. Well, not every night, but most of them. It took me only a couple of days to relax completely. To be able to work with Vincent during the day without constantly thinking about what we did in bed together. And God, could he make my body sing. I’d come harder and more often in the last two weeks than I had in any of my previous thirty-five years.

  We didn’t spend all our time fucking. We talked, too, about our lives and careers. We gossiped about people on set. Vincent told me that Lucas wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was about his interest in certain people, and I did my best neither to confirm nor deny the statement. He said my lack of response was all the answer he needed. I gave him a blow job to distract him.

  I learned he loved his dog more than he loved most people, and that his mother was in a nursing home that he paid for, but they hadn’t spoken for thirty years. She’d disowned him when he told her the truth about his sexuality. He got a little choked up when he talked about how glad he was that times were finally changing, that tolerance was at an all-time high, and that marriage equality was the law. He hoped that someday it wouldn’t be an issue at all. I agreed with him, and told him so, but when I reached out to comfort him, he growled, turned me over and fucked me hard. I was more than happy to give him what he needed.

  But in all our conversations, we never once talked about what happened next between us. I was scared to bring it up. I didn’t want him to tell me it wasn’t anything serious. I was getting very attached and I knew it. But I couldn’t let him see. So I took my cues from him, just like I always did, and enjoyed our time together without showing how much I was coming to care for him.

  Which was why I really shouldn’t have been surprised when he disappeared without a word.

  Wrapping the 100th episode had been bittersweet. It was a huge accomplishment to make it that far, and we were all thrilled. But at the same time, Court was leaving the show to go do whatever it was retired actors did. He’d been with us since the beginning, when only he, Lucas, Mary Alice, and I were principle cast. Allison had been added midway through the first season, and Aaron started guest starring at the end of season two. Now we wouldn’t be working together anymore. And when we came back to film after a couple of days break, we’d be shooting a funeral scene that was going to cause us all to break down. It was going to be hard.

  The rumor was that the chief’s chair would be empty for a few episodes, eventually to be filled by a new actor. There were a rumblings and rumors as to who the producers were going to sign, each guess more outlandish than the last. I wasn’t going to speculate.

  The wrap party had been huge. Normally, when an episode ended, cast and crew just took over the back room at DeLorio’s for a big dinner. It was just like a great big get-together. End-of-the-season parties were bigger and longer, more organized. But this had surpassed it all.

  There were decorations, presents, and cake. Court made a speech, and so did several others. It had started early and went late. People drank far more than they usually did, and there were tears mingled in with the good-natured teasing and joking. Someone had put together a reel of Court’s best on-screen moments intermingled with his hysterical fuck-ups. It was a spectacular party, and that, more than anything else, made it feel real to me. So when things were winding down, and Vincent caught my eye and gave me a subtle head-tip toward the door, I was more than ready to leave.

  We went back to my place, as we had every other night we’d gotten together. I didn’t really care that we went to my house instead of his hotel suite. He said it was small this time around, because he’d waited too long to book it, and his dog took up most of the space. It didn’t matter to me, and I loved my bed, so I was more than happy to meet him there.

  He fucked me slow and sweet, drawing it out and making it last. That same peaceful feeling suffused my being when we were finished, and I fell asleep sated, sticky, and sore, wrapped around his slightly smaller body. But when I woke in the morning, he was gone. I waited for him to call or text, something, but he didn’t. And as the hours stretched into days, and the days became weeks, I realized that he wasn’t going to. That it didn’t mean the same to him as it had for me. And I had to be okay with that.

  I hadn’t yet gotten there when he was scheduled to direct again. In fact, I wasn’t even close. I’d never been a “love ‘em and leave ‘em” kind of guy. The handful of women I’d slept with over the years had been ones with whom I’d actually had a relationship. Not that I’d been much good at relationships, but at least there’d been more between us than friends with benefits. I wasn’t entirely sure Vincent and I even qualified as that. So when I got the shooting schedule three weeks later, and saw that Vincent was directing again, I quietly had a panic attack before I was able to pull on a mask of professionalism and leave my dressing room.

  I greeted him when I saw him, but other than his usual head-tip, he gave me no indication that there was anything more between us. I felt awkward and weird. I had trouble focusing, and I was bumping into anything I was near. Vincent didn’t acknowledge it, though I knew he noticed because the man missed nothing, but I was garnering looks from others. Finally, Lucas grabbed my elbow and steered me a little way off the bullpen set.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

  I put on my brightest smile. “Sure.”

  Lucas snorted out a laugh. “For someone who pretends for a living, you’re a horrible liar. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I said quietly. It was a lie and the truth at the same time. I shook
my head ruefully. “I thought maybe, but no. It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m okay.”

  Lucas studied me for a long moment. “Man, you’ve been restless and strange for the last few weeks, but nothing like this. Tell me what I can do to help you.”

  Lucas had become one of my best friends over the past five years, and I was lucky and honored to have him. He wasn’t always the warmest guy, but when you got past his defenses and he let you in, you were golden. I gave him a shoulder bump and a real, if sad, smile.

  “Thanks, but there’s nothing to be done. I’ll figure it out.”

  “You sure?” He was checking, giving me another opportunity to confide in him.

  I almost did. I almost told him exactly what had happened between Vincent and me. At the last moment, I nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. I wasn’t sure why I was holding back from him, of all people. I knew Lucas wouldn’t judge, and I knew he’d keep my secret. But I still couldn’t bring myself to tell him. Someday, maybe, but not today.

  Lucas was not convinced, but he left me to return to set. I closed my eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. When I was done, I was as ready as I was going to be. I was a professional, and I’d worked in less than ideal situations before. This was one of my own making. Vincent had never hinted at anything more between us, so it was all on me.

  With that thought in mind, I manned up and returned to work.

  * * * *

  There were a few awkward moments as filming went on, but we had the episode in the can after six days of shooting. I was just a little bit more relieved than normal when we were finished. Even though Vincent had been nothing but professional and cordial, I still found it awkward and strange to be working with him.

  It seemed my original justification for not getting involved with a coworker was sound.

  But it didn’t matter because we were done, and there was no telling if he’d be back again before the season was through. We still had seven episodes left to shoot, so chances were Vincent would be at the helm of at least one of them. But now I knew we could work together, so we at least had that going for us. In time, things would get less weird for me.

  Probably not until I stopped reliving our time together, though.

  I was showered and changed, and packing up my things, when there was a light knock on the door. I absently called for whoever it was to come in while I bent to unplug the phone charger from the wall. I stood again and turned, only to stop dead at seeing Vincent leaning against the closed door.

  He was wearing that gorgeous green shirt again. And I knew he’d changed purposely, because he hadn’t been wearing it two hours ago when I’d seen him last.

  “Why didn’t you call?”

  His question was quiet and laced with hurt. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, shocked down to my toes. Had I read the whole situation wrong? Vincent’s usual confidence seemed to be missing as he stared at me with wounded eyes.

  I gave him the truth because he deserved it. “I didn’t think you wanted me to. You never said…and you never called and…” I shrugged, not having the words to accurately describe my thought process. I wanted to remind him that I was the new one at this, but I didn’t think that would serve anyone. So I just stood there, clutching the charger cord, and waiting.

  Vincent continued to stare for a long moment. Then he pushed off the jamb with an easy roll of his shoulder and walked toward me. His usual swagger returned with each step, and I could practically see his confidence fill him. It was nice to know he had moments of doubt and insecurity, too. It made him seem more human instead of like some kind of superhero. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t prefer this confident and arrogant Vincent.

  He stopped only when he was in my personal space, and once again I somehow felt like the shorter one even though I was looking down into his eyes. They were warm with affection, the hurt I’d seen gone, and he reached up with one hand to cup my jaw. My eyes slid shut of their own volition. I had missed his touch more than I realized.

  “I missed you, these last few weeks. Let’s not do that again, hmm?”

  “God, no,” I breathed out.

  His chuckle was warm and sexy, and I shivered at the sound. He reached up with his other hand, cradling my face in his palms, and he pulled me down until our lips met. Before he kissed me, he spoke, “Come back to my hotel tonight. I’ve got a good suite this time.”

  I laughed and lunged, kissing him hungrily. He returned it full force. Only when we were desperate for breath did Vincent pull back. I loved seeing his luscious mouth all kiss-swollen. He grinned, and my heart started pounding again.

  “DeLorio’s first. Then my place. I want you to meet my dog.”

  I nodded my agreement fast.

  * * * *

  The Irish setter was big even for his breed, and covered in silky, golden-red fur. He was also insanely well-behaved. He sniffed at my hand as we were introduced, then just sat there, letting me pet his head while Vincent poured out a measure of food. The dog didn’t jump or bark, he just waited patiently. When Vincent was done, he gave the command, and the dog ran to his food bowl.

  I stood from where I had been kneeling on the floor, grinning from ear to ear. “Valentine? Really Vincent, you named him Valentine?”

  Vincent’s grin was devilish. I couldn’t help but kiss it.

  “Don’t get too comfortable,” Vincent chastised as I kicked off my shoes and crossed to the sofa in the living area. “We’ll have to take him for a walk in a little bit.”

  I blinked. “You want me to come with you?”

  Vincent cocked his head to the side as he studied me. “Of course.”

  I leaned forward and braced my forearms on my knees. “And if the paparazzi catch us? The pictures will be plastered everywhere.”

  Realization dawned on Vincent’s face, and he padded across the carpet to join me on the couch. He pulled me into his arms and kissed the side of my neck.

  “I’ve been out a long time, Dan. And I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships that didn’t work out for one reason or another. I’m not worried about being photographed. Nor am I ashamed to be seen with you.” He took a breath. “But if that’s not something you want, I can understand. I’ll take Valentine for his walk on my own.”

  I leaned into him, letting him take my weight because I knew he could handle it. There were a lot of thoughts running through my head, not the least of which that I wasn’t ready to risk everything by coming out if I didn’t have a good reason. Of course, just making the statement should have been reason enough. But I wasn’t certain that it was, and my inner turmoil made it hard to think straight.

  I gave him the only truth I had at the moment. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Fair enough,” Vincent said, and I could tell he meant it. He kissed me again, hard and long, and stood when I would have pulled him closer. He liked it when I whined at his leaving, and his grin was full of heat and promise. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

  I blew out a shaky breath and tried to get myself under control.

  * * * *

  Vincent was true to his word, and twenty minutes after he left the room, he was back. I heard him tell Valentine to lay down, then I heard the jangle of the leash as he set it on the coffee table. He called my name, his voice a little worried.

  “In here,” I called from the bedroom, then held my breath.

  A moment later, he entered and stopped dead. I smiled at his gaped jaw, and stretched and preened under his gaze. Naked and laid out on the bed, my ass in the air and a pillow shoved under my hips, I knew I made a tempting picture. I’d set out to entice him, to make him want, and from the speed at which he was removing his clothes, I was pretty sure I succeeded.

  “Christ, just look at you,” he breathed. His pants came off, and he tossed them at the chair before climbing onto bed behind me. His hands immediately went to my ass, kneading my cheeks and pulling them apart. I felt his breath on my crack a moment before
he kissed the small of my back, then went still and inhaled deeply. “That’s my soap. Oh, you got all clean for me. Because you want me to play with this ass.”

  “Yessss,” I hissed as his talented tongue licked from my balls to the top of my crack. In our time together, I’d learned that I loved ass-play. I loved when he licked and sucked at my hole, when he fingered me until I was a gibbering mess, begging for him to take me. I loved the feel of his cock sliding in my ass more than just about anything. It wasn’t the same with the plug I’d bought after he left. I liked the weight of it, the stretch, but it wasn’t him.

  “What was that?” he murmured against my perineum, just loud enough for me to hear. He kissed and nipped the skin, making me jerk, then he draped himself across my back. It put his mouth at my ear and his hips right on my ass. I bucked, but he pressed down to keep me from moving. “You bought yourself a toy?”

  “What?” I asked, confused. Then I realized I’d been talking out loud and embarrassment swamped through me. “Um. Yes.”

  “Did you think of me while you used it?”

  I blushed so hard I was sure I was actually giving off heat. “Yes, you ass.”

  “No, honey. Your ass. And I’m going to lick it and suck it and finger you until you come screaming. And then,” Vincent paused to nibble my earlobe. “Then I’m going to fuck you until you come again.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I whimpered. “Please.”

  Vincent’s gave that sex-filled chuckle he had. “Gladly.”

  Chapter 7

  Our communication wasn’t exactly better this time around. We still hadn’t talked about anything having to do with us, and I still didn’t know where we stood. But Vincent left with a kiss and a goodbye, and he texted to let me know he’d arrived safely at his next destination. I knew his schedule was packed for the coming weeks. He was doing a movie, then another TV show, before returning to Seattle to direct the season finale of Rourke and Geary. I was glad to know when I would see him again, and even happier when there were sporadic text conversations with him in the intervening time.