Bonds of Love

by Snyder, J. M.

But as Matt’s breath evened out, Vic found himself drifting off after his lover. It was so easy to slip into Matt’s drowsy mind, curl up beside him, and let the matched rhythm of their hearts lull them both to sleep. The heat of the afternoon cocooned around them, the noise from the television so much static that canceled out the world until nothing existed but their hands on each other, the touch of skin on skin, the rush of heated blood through tired veins.

  Sometime later Vic woke with a start. Sunlight slanted through the blinds, a deep golden hue that marked the end of the day. Shaking his head to clear it, Vic sat up and stretched, a growl of a yawn escaping his throat. As the remote control fell to the floor he retrieved it, clicking off the television in the process. Then he turned around, saw Matt still asleep at the end of the couch, saw the clock on the wall behind him pointing at quarter after four. For one long moment he considered lying down again, ignoring the clock, cuddling up against his lover and forgetting about Kyle and his cookout just about to start. Let Matt sleep through the whole thing, and join him in his slumber.

  But no, Matt wanted to go. In Vic’s world, there was one rule: what Matt wanted, he got.

  With a shove, Vic pushed himself off the couch. He stretched again, reaching for the ceiling, as energy coursed through his body. Every part of him stood on edge, alert, alive. His hands smoothed down his chest, over his waist, to the thick bulge at the front of his boxers. Every part…

  Vic gave himself a healthy squeeze and moaned against the shards of pleasure that spiked through him at his own touch. Oh, yes, he was up all right. He sent a mental nudge in Matt’s direction, a soft caress that played over his lover’s sleeping mind like a spring breeze. ::Matty, you awake?::

  That earned him a low groan. Vic turned to step over Matt’s legs and, straddling them, stood before his lover. One hand fisted the erection in his shorts; the other rubbed up Matt’s thigh to poke at his crotch. Vic sent another thought his way, the two of them coupled together in ecstasy, a raunchy mental picture that teased a little sexy smile from Matt’s face. The cock beneath Vic’s hand jerked to life, but as he tried to unbutton Matt’s boxers to get at it, Matt’s hands caught his. In a voice that sounded more awake than Vic would’ve thought, Matt teased, “Are you trying to get me up?”

  Vic laughed. “Feels like you’re already halfway there.”

  “I dreamed of you,” Matt admitted. A tug on Vic’s hand pulled him closer; Vic knelt on the couch, one leg on either side of Matt. When he sat down on Matt’s thighs, the snaps straining at the front of his boxers popped open to expose a thick, hard length. Matt’s fingers curled around the bulbous tip. “Why, hello there.”

  With a guttural sound in the back of his throat, Vic pinned Matt to the couch, his ardent kiss demanding. His cockhead left a smear of pre-cum across Matt’s T-shirt as it bumped along his belly. “Take me,” Vic whispered into Matt’s open mouth. To punctuate his point, he thrust against Matt, on fire for this man beneath him. “God, Matty, now.”

  Matt laughed as Vic sat back. “One, no lube.”

  In response, Vic dug between the cushions of the couch until he found a half-empty bottle of silicone-based lubricant. It was right where he’d left it the last time they fucked in the living room, but Matt’s eyes widened in disbelief as Vic plucked it out from the couch. “This is why we don’t invite people over to visit,” Matt joked, taking the bottle from Vic. “But we’ve still got a problem.”

  Vic growled, “Which is?” His body burned, every synapse ignited, every nerve quivering for Matt’s touch. The only problem he could see was that they weren’t already doing it. Mentally he warned Matt, ::I’m going to beg in a minute. That won’t be pretty.::

  With a laugh, Matt plucked at Vic’s tank top. “You gotta lose some of these threads, big boy. You’re overdressed for the occasion.”

  Vic poked at Matt’s boxers, still hiding his lover’s genitals from view. “Oh, and you’re not?”

  Tamping down a smug grin, Matt snapped open his boxers. From its bed of black curls, his cock swung up to point at Vic, its plum-colored tip flared above its dark, reddish length. As Vic’s fist closed around the shaft, Matt opened the bottle of lube and drizzled clear gel onto the head of his dick. The liquid warmed as it trickled down, over Vic’s fingers, down to nest in Matt’s kinked curls. Tightening his grip, Vic began to stroke Matt’s erection, his hand gliding over the lube. His lover’s eyes slipped shut, his mouth opened in a slack O, and a lusty moan rumbled through him as he thrust up into Vic’s hand. But when Vic’s fingers eased into his boxers to cup his balls, Matt tugged at his tank top again. “Your turn. Take it off.”

  Vic didn’t want to move and lose this intimacy—Matt’s body against his, his cock throbbing in Vic’s hand, the desirous flush that pinked his cheeks and wet his lips. What he wanted was this thick length in him, as far as it would go and driving deeper with hard thrusts that matched the fire building in him. He didn’t want to take the time to stand, undress, get situated again…he wanted Matt now, right now, this instant. The familiar flare of strength coiled through his muscles as Vic let go of Matt’s dick long enough to grab the front of his tank top with one hand, a fist full of his boxers in the other. With a leonine growl that drowned out the tear of fabric, Vic stretched his arms, pulling his clothes apart. Seams ripped as the boxers disintegrated beneath his strength; his tank top peeled off like a second skin.

  Matt’s eyes grew wide. “Jesus,” he whispered as he reached out to touch Vic’s stomach. “Do you know how hot that was?”

  Vic’s response was another urgent kiss that pressed Matt to the couch. His lover’s hands cradled his ass, spreading him wide, as their kiss deepened. Vic raised up on his knees; when he felt the tip of his lover’s cock between his buttocks, he sat down on Matt’s shaft, taking in the full length. The burn of entry spread like a wildfire through him, enflaming his senses. He kissed Matt hungrily as they moved together, each thrust harder, faster than the last. Vic felt insatiable as passion engulfed him, driving them both to the brink of release time and again, until Matt exploded deep within him and set Vic’s very soul ablaze.

  * * * *

  They arrived at Kyle’s at quarter to six. Vic found a place to park in front of a neighboring house, away from the clutch of cars that clogged Kyle’s driveway. It looked like a nice, quiet street, the houses small and unpretentious, the lawns trim and neat. But when Vic climbed out of the car, he heard loud music pouring from a closed garage nearby, and a choppy car engine revved unseen in another back yard. From Kyle’s place came the delicious sound of male laughter, and a splash of water that indicated his guests were already making full use of the pool. Skirting around the back of his car, he groaned as he opened the passenger side door for Matt. “Shoot me now,” he muttered.

  “Be nice,” Matt chided. He held the large bowl of potato salad out for Vic to carry, then extracted himself from the car. “This might be fun.”

  Vic heard his name called out in Kyle’s bright voice and shook his head. Whatever this evening held, “fun” was not on the agenda.

  “You boys are late!” Kyle laughed as he held the gate to his privacy fence open, affording a view of bare skin and cool water inside. He wore a pair of blue swim briefs that made his sun-burnt skin look orange, and the flabby paunch that overflowed the top of the briefs made Vic wonder if Kyle had bothered to look in a mirror after getting changed. When he stepped out on the lawn, Vic almost expected to hear sirens as his neighbors phoned the cops. Speedos on a body like that were a crime.

  Matt walked two steps ahead of Vic, flashing Kyle an insincere smile as he shed his sunglasses. “Hey, Kyle. Long time, no see.”

  Kyle’s grin turned lecherous. “I was afraid you guys weren’t coming.”

  “We were a little preoccupied,” Matt said. He reached back for Vic, who held the bowl of potato salad in the crook of his arm, but when Vic tried to take Matt’s hand, his lover surprised him by grabbing at his crotch instead. Matt massaged his cock, outlin
ing the sudden hardness in the front of Vic’s jeans. Kyle stared at them, mouth agape, but Matt just gave him a maddening wink. “You know how time gets away from you.”

  Discomfort flickered across Kyle’s face. Vic had no problem picking up on the thoughts that whirled through his mind—the images he tried to push aside, memories of Matt’s nude body now pictured in Vic’s strong embrace. He looked from Matt to Vic and back again, and Vic sensed his coworker’s balls shrivel into hard little nuggets as an immense feeling of inadequacy washed over him. Conceit showed on Matt’s face and crowed through his head like a victory dance.

  “Yes, well,” Kyle started.

  Vic shoved the bowl at him, then lunged to wrap Matt in his arms with a playful snarl. He wasn’t one for public displays of affection, but Matt had something to prove to Kyle, and Vic had to admit he enjoyed seeing the man put off guard. Matt laughed as Vic nipped at his neck, folding his body around his lover’s with a possessive air that left Kyle out. “Watch it,” Vic grumbled, loud enough for his coworker to overhear, “you’re turning me on all over again.”

  “Like that’s a bad thing,” Matt snickered. Mentally, he added, ::Thanks for playing along.::

  Sucking on Matt’s earlobe, Vic shot back, ::Who’s playing?::

  “Guys,” Kyle tried again, his laughter strained. “What will the neighbors think?”

  “That at least someone over here gets laid,” Vic muttered. He stood and let Matt up, but hooked a finger through one of the belt loops on Matt’s jeans before his lover could get very far. Cutting to the chase, he asked Kyle, “The food’s on, I hope?”

  Kyle motioned them through the gate. “Come in, come in. My guy ran out to get some more propane for the grill or I’d be hanging all over him the way you two do. Are you like this twenty-four seven?”

  With a laugh, Matt admitted, “Only when we’re together.”

  He turned and caught Vic in a quick kiss that sent a charge straight from his lips to his dick. Vic’s skin smoldered from that kiss, which Kyle studiously ignored, but when Matt moved away, Vic no longer held onto his pants—his finger had burned clean through the belt loop. The flesh was still red, and when Vic closed his hand into a fist, a faint tendril of smoke puffed up between his fingers.

  Oh, shit.

  Kyle was already heading back to the pool, where a couple of guys splashed each other in the shallow end. Matt followed him, but his step faltered at Vic’s unspoken curse. ::What’s wrong?::

  Vic opened his palm, saw the first small flame lick around his thumb, and closed his fist again to smother it. ::Seems like I’m running a little hot here.:: Matt turned, a frown already on his face, but when he tried to take Vic’s hand, Vic pulled away. “Don’t,” he warned softly. “You might get burned.”

  Ignoring him, Matt took his fist in both hands and pried the closed fingers open. “I gave you the damn power,” he reasoned. “Let me see.”

  Flames now covered Vic’s palm, dancing over reddened flesh. They didn’t hurt, didn’t even tickle. But they had burned through the denim of Matt’s jeans, so Vic suspected the fire was real.

  From somewhere behind Matt, Kyle called out, “Are you two at it again?”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Vic promised. The fire in his palm flared at the surge of emotion in his blood.

  Matt closed Vic’s fist, extinguishing the flames, and planted a quick kiss on the corner of Vic’s mouth. “Think happy thoughts. For me? And try to keep the home fires down to a simmer, if you know what I mean.” With a grin, he added, “And hey, if Kyle’s lying about this boyfriend of his, you can always offer to light the grill.”

  * * * *

  A half hour later, Vic stood near the grill, a cooler full of ice and beer on the picnic table beside him. Every now and then he slipped his hand into the cold ice as if retrieving a can, but he was just trying to keep down the flames that continued to break out across his palm like a bad case of hives. Matt leaned against the table in front of the cooler, hiding Vic’s flame-encrusted hand from the guests in the pool. How he would eat without drawing attention to himself—or char his burger beyond flavor—remained to be seen.

  Kyle had disappeared into the house in search of food; with a flourish, he pushed open the sliding screen door that separated the deck from the kitchen, holding aloft a plate topped with raw burgers and hot dogs. “Guess who’s here?” he cried out with a laugh.

  The man following him was no one Vic knew. After the way Kyle had talked the guy up, Vic hadn’t known what to expect, but this wasn’t it. Short, a bit on the stocky side, with thick legs that hinted at an athletic hobby like running or cycling, the man who carried the propane tank out onto the deck had a shock of bleached hair two shades too light for his dusky skin and dark eyebrows. He had an earring in one ear, a diamond stud that winked in the dying sunlight, and a hint of a gold tooth when he smiled at the guys in the pool. That smile slipped when he saw Vic, and almost shattered when he noticed Matt.

  Matt’s hand clawed at Vic’s wrist. “Christ,” he whispered. “Vic…”

  Vic probed into Matt’s thoughts, amused at his lover’s reaction. ::Surprised at Kyle’s catch?:: he joked.

  ::Jordan,:: Matt’s mind screamed. That one word ricocheted between them, a name that curdled Vic’s blood. ::Oh, my God, Vic, that’s Jordan. That’s the guy I used to know, the guy on the phone, Jordan—::

  “Hey, Matthew,” Kyle’s boyfriend purred. An innocuous smile slid across his face like oil over water. “What a surprise seeing you here. Say, haven’t you dated everyone at this party? Or just us three lucky bastards?”

  In the cooler beside him, Vic clenched his hand around a cold beer can. He felt the power surge through him, felt the fire flare to life; two seconds later, the cooler exploded in a spray of beer and sparks and ice.

  * * * *

  Chapter 16

  Jordan.

  Matt glanced at his former high school classmate and looked away again, as if the sight of the man were too much for him. Questions flooded his mind. Why here, now, after all this time? And with Kyle, how…?

  And, most important, what the fuck was Matt supposed to say or do about it?

  Before he could articulate any of these thoughts, could even begin to put them into words in his own mind let alone ask them out loud, the cooler erupted behind him. He caught the brunt of it, ice and beer showering the back of his shirt as if he’d just won the championships and his teammates had dumped the cooler over his head to celebrate. Too late, he ducked; water and booze trickled down the back of his neck, beneath his shirt, chilling his bare skin. He caught one glimpse of Jordan’s face, eyes wide at the sudden display of Vic’s power, then he turned, praying to God and all the saints above that his lover hadn’t spontaneously combusted along with the damn icebox.

  For one long moment, the world was silent. In the pool, the water went as still as a sheet of silk. The laughter that had brightened the day just moments before was gone, dried up. Even the birds in the trees didn’t dare make a sound. Everyone, everything, held its breath in the agonizing second it took Matt to turn toward Vic. Please let him be all right, he prayed. His thoughts roared through him with the surge of blood in his ears; far away he could hear a distant beat, Vic’s heart, thudding like a tribal drum signaling war. Please, God, oh please, oh please…

  When his eyes met Vic’s, the world rushed in around them. Water splashed, laughter pierced the day, birds twittered in relief. “Jesus,” Matt whispered, reaching for Vic. He found his lover already reaching back, and he fell into Vic’s one-armed embrace. Ignoring their wet clothing and the crowd, Matt pressed his body against Vic’s. “Oh, God. What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack? Don’t do that again.”

  And then Kyle was there, stumbling among the ice already melting on the sidewalk. “Holy shit,” he gasped, looking from Vic to Matt and back again as if waiting for one of them to explain what had just happened. What could they say? What would they say?

  But Kyle’s m
ind must’ve pieced together what he saw with what little facts he had. He dropped to his knees in front of the nearby gas grill and started to fiddle with the controls. “Oh, hell, man,” he blubbered, fear in his voice, “I’m so sorry. Damn. I’ve heard of this stuff happening, you know? Don’t turn the gas off all the way, pressure builds up in an empty tank, whole thing blows to kingdom come. Good thing no one got hurt.”

  The fact that the grill was fine, only the cooler had exploded, didn’t seem to faze Kyle. Because it was as good an explanation as any, Matt kept quiet. Glancing up at them, Kyle asked, “Ya’ll all right, right?”

  “Yeah,” Matt said. His own voice sounded shaky, and he cleared his throat to chase away the fear he heard in it. He reached out for Vic even as he cuddled closer to his lover. ::We’re all right.::

  Vic’s hesitant reply startled him. ::Um, Matty, no.::

  For the first time, Matt realized that Vic hugged him with only one arm. Vic held the other away from them, and the hand that had once been covered in flame, the hand responsible for the explosion, was raw and bloody. In a small voice, Matt murmured, “Oh, shit.”

  By the grill, Kyle stood, determination so deeply etched into his features that Matt would’ve laughed if he could. He took a step toward them. “Now don’t panic, guys. Let me see…”

  As Kyle reached for him, Vic pulled away. He growled deep in the back of his throat, but Kyle ignored the warning. “Let me take a look at it, big guy. I know first aid—”

  When Kyle touched Vic’s wrist, Matt saw his lover’s hand clench in an unconscious fist. “Kyle,” he tried, taking Vic’s injured hand gently in both of his. “Let me take care of it. Is your kit still in the bathroom downstairs?”

  Vic’s growl filled Matt’s mind. There was an undercurrent of pain in his lover’s thoughts, just beginning to seep through the anger and adrenaline that had set off his power in the first place. ::Just hush,:: Matt chided. Without words, he replayed a memory for Vic, one night years ago when Kyle had had a group of friends over to watch a movie, and the damn fool burned himself opening a hot bag of microwave popcorn. He’d pointed Matt to the bathroom off the kitchen, where he kept a stocked first aid kit, then spent the rest of the night trying not to smear burn ointment on everything he touched.