Bonds of Love

by Snyder, J. M.

Guiding himself into place, Matt crawled over Vic’s bulk as the bulbous head of his cock eased between those fleshy buttocks. Vic tensed beneath him, hands grappling to pull Matt into him. But when he butted against the first firm ring of muscle in Vic’s ass, he stopped. Leaning down, he purred into Vic’s ear, “I haven’t thanked you for the bear yet.”

  “What?” Confusion flickered over Vic’s features as he struggled to comprehend what Matt was saying. He wasn’t one for talking during sex, Vic Braunson—he committed himself to the act, got deep “in the zone” and Matt loved the consternation that blossomed in his lover’s mind whenever he tried to interrupt their intercourse. Vic’s deep voice grumbled, “Matty, can’t we talk about this later?”

  Matt gave his hips a small thrust that threatened to send him farther into Vic’s center but didn’t. Vic held his breath in anticipation, then let it out in a frustrated growl. Matt had to bite back his grin. “You’re so fun to tease.”

  “Matty,” Vic warned.

  Lowering his lips to his lover’s ear, Matt whispered, “The bear’s the same color as your eyes when you come.”

  “Which I’m hoping—”

  Then Matt drove into him with a hard thrust, and whatever else Vic was going to say dissolved into grunts and gasps of pure pleasure.

  * * * *

  The next morning after his shower, Matt dressed quietly in the darkness of their bedroom, unwilling to wake Vic just yet. Dropping his gym bag by the front door of their apartment, he snagged the cordless phone from its cradle, then dug the phone book out from the end table in the living room, and headed for the balcony. He opened the sliding glass door, careful not to let it jump the track and rattle Vic awake, then slid the screen out of the way to step outside. Leaning back against the wrought-iron railing so he could keep an eye on the kitchen and, beyond that, the hall that led to their bedroom, Matt flipped through the phone book until he found Kyle’s number. He dialed it, then listened to the phone ring. The guy worked the early shift, and should be getting ready for work. If Matt could just catch him before he left…

  “Hello?” Kyle’s bright voice answered, no trace of sleep in it.

  Matt was glad he hadn’t awakened him. The only morning grumpiness he liked to hear was Vic’s. “Kyle,” he said, trying to make this quick. “Matt. Listen.” Then his manners caught up with him. “Thanks for inviting us Saturday.”

  Kyle laughed, so loud that Matt had to hold the phone away from his ear with a grimace. “No problem! Glad you guys could make it. It was great seeing you again. I mean that.”

  “Listen,” Matt said again. He caught a faint stirring in his mind, Vic beginning to wake, and he knew if his lover heard him on the phone first thing in the morning with Kyle, of all people, that cute grumpy act of his might turn into stony silence. “You haven’t seen my cell phone anywhere, have you?”

  “No, why? You lose it?”

  Matt shook his head in disbelief. No, I have it right here, you idiot. Why the fuck else do you think I’d call? But he was playing nice, and he bit that back with a forced grin. “I seem to have misplaced it. I was thinking maybe one of your friends might’ve…I don’t know, picked it up maybe? Or it could’ve fallen off my belt when we were in the bathroom—”

  Suddenly it came to him—when he’d been at the bar refilling his drink, and Jordan touched him. When he realized it was Jordan, not Vic, and he’d scrambled away…didn’t something fall to the ground then? Off the table maybe, or off his belt perhaps? Then the towel fell, so he didn’t get to see what it’d been, and when he tried to scoot back, his foot kicked the towel and whatever it hid under the bar, Matt could still hear the skittering noise it’d made as it disappeared out of sight…”I think it’s out back by the pool,” Matt told him. “I think maybe I dropped it there.”

  “So far gone you don’t remember, eh?” Kyle laughed again. “You were pretty wasted, man.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Matt muttered.

  Kyle didn’t hear him. “We’re just about to head out,” he said. We’re, Matt caught that—so Jordan was spending the night now, was he? “If you want to swing by here sometime today and take a look out back, that’s fine with me. I’ll leave the gate unlocked. I’m working another double today so just come on by whenever. Unless you want me to get it now and give it to Vic when I see him? No guarantee.”

  Matt could imagine how well that would go over. “I’ll just stop by on my way to the gym,” he said.

  Back inside, he locked the balcony door, deposited the phone book on the coffee table, and dropped the phone into its cradle. His sneakers made no sound as he headed down the hallway to their bedroom, where Vic was nothing more than a dark shape beneath the covers. Entering the room, Matt skirted the bed and sank to the mattress beside his lover. One hand touched Vic’s shoulder, then traced the shelf of his collarbone down to the middle of his chest. Beneath Matt’s fingers, a strong, steady pulse throbbed. He let his touch play up the thick cords of muscle in Vic’s neck, then around the curve of his lover’s jaw, to rub gently behind Vic’s ear. His forefinger strayed over the tiny gold hoops in Vic’s earlobe, then followed the shell-like whirls of his outer ear.

  Beneath him, Vic drew in a rumbling snore that tapered off in a contented sigh. Matt leaned down and pressed his lips to his lover’s temple. “Love you,” he whispered.

  A firm hand slipped from the sheets to cover Matt’s knee and Vic’s eyes fluttered open, but from the blank expression in them, Matt knew his lover was still asleep. His next kiss covered Vic’s lips and those dark blue eyes closed again with another sigh. Into Vic’s mind, Matt whispered, ::See you tonight.::

  Vic’s love for him welled up in Matt like a hot flash. He caught Vic’s hand in his own, kissed the battered knuckles, then tucked the blankets in around his lover before heading out. At the door he stopped and glanced back. From somewhere deep within the bed sheets came a single thought. ::Love you, too.::

  Then Matt noticed the clock on Vic’s bedside table and realized he’d better get going if he had to swing by Kyle’s place on his way into work. With quiet steps he headed down the hall, grabbing his gym bag on his way out the front door.

  * * * *

  Chapter 20

  Matt slowed his car as he turned onto Kyle’s street. An eerie feeling of déjà vu settled over him—how many times in the past had he been behind the wheel of his late model Jaguar, peering through the tinted windshield, out over the black hood, as he approached Kyle’s house from the far end of the road? Before he met Vic, how often had he swung by Kyle’s on his way to the gym, for a cup of morning coffee or after work, for a drink or two with his friends? They used to have a lot of fun together—no matter what Vic thought of his coworker, Kyle was always good for a laugh, and many times Matt had been close to giving into his insistent advances because life had been so lonely back then. That fateful day they went to the gym together, Matt remembered trying to convince himself perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, if he and Kyle…

  He smiled at the memory, and glanced in the rearview mirror to see his own lips grinning back. Then he’d met Vic, and the whole stint with Kyle was over before it ever even began.

  He slowed the car further, until he crawled down the street. But there were no cars in Kyle’s driveway, nor parked in front of his house, which had a closed air about it, as if devoid of life. At the curb, he eased to a stop and watched the house for a minute to ensure it was empty. If Kyle were running late, or Jordan had stayed behind…

  But it appeared that no one was home.

  Matt took his foot off the brake and the car inched forward, until he could see the gate on the other side of the house that led to the pool beyond. No one was hanging around, waiting for him to arrive. The gate stayed shut, and none of the curtains on the windows in the house fluttered or moved as if someone watched him from inside. Just go up already, he told himself. It wasn’t trespassing—Kyle knew he was here. Just go and get it over with. If the phone’s there, fine. If not, you’ll
just have to report it lost when you get to work.

  Goaded into action, Matt yanked up the parking brake and turned off the ignition. He sat and listened to the engine tick as it cooled, but it was the only sound on the street. In the whole world, even.

  What was he afraid of? He was alone, with no one around. What had happened on Saturday was in the past—Matt suspected that neither Kyle nor Jordan had dwelled on the cookout half as much as he did himself. He was being stupid about the whole thing, he knew it. At the moment, here, he was alone. No reason to get all riled up and worrisome when no one else was even home.

  Pocketing the keys, he climbed out of the car and stood with a stretch. The slam of the car door echoed around the subdivision like a gunshot, punctuating the silence.

  Hands in the pockets of his shorts, Matt jogged up the slight incline to Kyle’s gate. He tried to look like a man on a mission—get the phone, get back in the car, get to work—and hoped none of the neighbors Kyle claimed were so damned nosy decided to call the cops to report a trespasser. When he reached the gate, Matt risked a glance over his shoulder at the still empty street. His car sat like a black bruise in the otherwise pastel colors of trim yards and cookie cutter homes.

  An odd thought gripped Matt, so sudden, so powerful, that his hand clenched into a fist around the gate’s latch and his breath caught in his throat. They should get a place of their own, he and Vic. Not here, of course not, but somewhere in the city, a nice little bungalow perhaps, or maybe a brick rancher. Something more than a handful of rented rooms in an apartment building, something theirs. With a privacy fence like Kyle’s, and a patio out back where they could sit in the evenings, and a breakfast nook where Matt could cuddle with his grumpy lover in the mornings. A house.

  A home.

  He’d mention it tonight. Just sort of breeze the idea by Vic, feel him out, see if he’d given it any thought. What better way to say, “I’ll love you forever,” than a thirty year mortgage hanging over their heads?

  With a grin, Matt opened Kyle’s gate. One look at the blue water, sparkling with sunshine and twinkling into ripples in the wind, and Matt added an in-ground pool to his list of amenities their future house would have to have. Imagine eating a late dinner on the patio, the low footlights around the pool illuminating the dark water, the only light after the sun went down. Add himself in that picture, naked, back-paddling as he waited for Vic to undress and join him in the pool. The two of them draped in water and shadow, bodies throbbing against each other as they made love in the deep end.

  Your cell phone, a voice in his head prompted.

  Matt shook the thought away and hurried over to where the dry bar waited. His sneakers made little noise on the concrete, and the sound of water gurgling in the pool reminded him he was running late for work. He wouldn’t have time for a morning swim if he didn’t get busy. Behind the bar, he moved aside the tall stool and dropped to his hands and knees to peer under the table.

  A faint squee filled the air as the gate swung on its hinges. Matt jerked upright, but a stiff breeze ruffled his hair—that had to be what had set the gate in motion. He leaned back down to peer under the bar.

  He couldn’t see beneath it, it was so close to the ground. He lowered himself farther, stretching out on his stomach, the concrete warm through the thin T-shirt he wore. With his cheek pressed to the clean, white walkway, he stretched an arm out under the bar, groping blindly and feeling like an idiot, splayed on the ground like that. All for a damn cell phone—

  His fingers brushed the towel he remembered kicking away Saturday night. Matt pulled it out, then dove back in for the item hidden beneath it. His fingertips fumbled over smooth metal and as he got his hand around it, he could’ve crowed. “Ha!” he laughed, extracting his phone.

  Then he heard the scrape of wood on concrete, and felt the foot rails on the bottom of the barstool hit his shoulders. Matt tried to move but the stool sat pressed against his back, holding him into place. Two stool legs framed either side of his neck; his arms were out at his sides, and the remaining two wooden legs pinched and hemmed in his hips. Someone had snuck up on him and placed the stool over his back, trapping him. Someone…

  The stool creaked beneath sudden weight. Matt felt a bare foot caress the back of his thigh—the big toe plucked at the leg of his swim trunks, then continued over the flimsy fabric to push against his ass. He felt bare toes massage his buttocks, then slide down a bit, between his legs, to toy with his balls. For one breathless moment, Matt savored the touch, firm yet gentle, kneading his sac through the shorts, rubbing him against the hard concrete and sending a trill of delight humming through his entire body.

  Then he realized where he was and he tried to turn but found himself pinned beneath the stool like a captured butterfly. He shook his hips to dislodge the foot on his backside. “What—”

  “Hello, Matthew,” Jordan purred, his voice like sugar laced with arsenic. “I didn’t think we’d ever get a moment to ourselves, did you?”

  Matt craned his neck back, trying to see behind him. Was Kyle there, too? Jordan’s toes curled between his buttocks and Matt squirmed to shake them away. “Get off me,” he growled.

  His pulse quickened as adrenaline flooded his system, but he couldn’t crawl out from under the stool, he couldn’t get away. He felt Jordan above him, leaning over the stool; he felt hot breath on the back of his neck, and a gentle finger brushed across his nape like the gossamer threads of a spider web. Matt slapped at the hand to keep it at bay. “This isn’t funny,” Matt tried again. A sudden inspiration flashed through him, and he added, “Vic’s in the car. Waiting for me. When I don’t come back—”

  “You lie,” Jordan said with a laugh. “I saw you drive up, Matthew. I know you’re alone.”

  “I thought Kyle said you were leaving with him.” But the moment the words were free, Matt couldn’t remember if that’s what he’d heard or not. He couldn’t imagine Kyle would stand for this—Jordan’s toes rolled over Matt’s balls and dug at the crack in his ass in a manner that was way too familiar. If Vic knew, he’d rip those toes off one by one and shove them down Jordan’s throat. So why didn’t Jordan’s so-called boyfriend take issue with the touch? “Where the hell is Kyle, anyway?”

  Jordan leaned down over the seat of the stool and blew softly on Matt’s hot neck. “You heard him,” he said, laughing when Matt tried to swat him away. “He had to leave for work. He dropped me off at my house and I drove back here to wait. For you.”

  “What do you want?” Matt muttered. With a swish of his hips, he tried once more to dislodge Jordan’s toes and failed. “Get your goddamn foot out of my ass already, will you?”

  Jordan didn’t comply; instead, he ground his foot down harder, mashing Matt’s nuts against the concrete. Matt bit back a sob, a mingled cry of lust and pain that scared him. He wasn’t enjoying this, he wasn’t, but some masochistic part of him realized that if it were Vic teasing him like this, he just might get off on it.

  But it’s not Vic, he reminded himself. Don’t forget that one little fact.

  Above him, Jordan lowered his voice to a seductive whisper. “What I want,” he sighed, his breath tickling along the hair on Matt’s neck, “is something only you can give me, Matthew. Something you gave me a long time ago, something I want back. I was the first, wasn’t I? So, really, if you look at it from my perspective, the powers belong to me.”

  Matt let out a bark of laughter that echoed off the tiled pool. “Yeah, you were the first,” he admitted, “but, shit, we all make mistakes. These powers aren’t yours, asshole. You don’t deserve them. And they aren’t even mine anymore. I can’t just give them away.”

  “Whose are they then?” Jordan wanted to know.

  “Vic’s.”

  The name infused Matt with an overwhelming emotion that seemed to spiral out from the center of his being; just thinking of his lover strengthened him, and when he pushed up against the stool, he felt it wobble above him. “I said, get off me.” />
  A tiny sound of surprise escaped Jordan, who pressed down harder on the stool to keep it in place and almost squashed Matt’s balls in the process. “He loves you, does he?” Jordan asked. “For yourself? Or for the powers?”

  Anger roiled in Matt. “He loves me,” he shouted. Maybe if he talked loud enough someone would overhear, maybe call the cops. What good were nosy neighbors if they didn’t get involved when you needed them? “Fuck you, Jordan. He doesn’t even like the powers, okay? He puts up with them because he loves me.”

  Jordan jumped on his words. “Then give me the powers.”

  Despite his trapped position, Matt laughed. “Yeah, Vic would go for that.”

  “Use a condom,” Jordan said. “Or pull out before you come. Then call me up and I’ll come over, clean it up, drink it down. Instant superhero, isn’t that right?”

  Matt shook his head in disbelief. “Somehow I don’t think Vic would agree.” With a shake of his hips, he tried again to remove the foot between his legs, if only to relieve the ache that pulsed in his balls. Jordan didn’t budge. “Can you let me up? I’m running late for work.”

  “I’ll pay you for it,” Jordan offered.

  The desperation in Jordan’s voice disgusted Matt. “Just get off me.”

  For a moment, he thought Jordan was going to argue or push the issue. But then he sighed and stood, and Matt felt a little dribble of cum dampen the front of his shorts from the sudden release of pressure on his throbbing nuts. The stool was moved aside; Matt pushed himself up on his hands and knees, then sat back as he secured the cell phone to his belt. He didn’t look around, didn’t want to see Jordan again, and didn’t know how he’d get from where he sat by Kyle’s pool to the driver’s seat of his car without falling apart. His hands trembled, and when he blinked, his vision threatened to blur. When Vic heard about this—

  Suddenly a thick arm wrapped around Matt’s neck. He clawed at Jordan as the chokehold tightened, cutting off his air. Bright white spots bloomed in his vision; when he closed his eyes, the darkness behind them was tinged with red. The headache that had disappeared the night before came rushing back like a bully drawn into the fight. Matt’s throat closed, his lungs felt oddly hollow, and his head beat in time with the pulse still echoing in his crotch. As the grip tightened, putting undue pressure on the veins in his neck, he gasped and dug his fingers into Jordan’s arm, but his nails scraped over thick skin, useless. He had no leverage to fight back with, nothing to let him grapple with Jordan and extract himself from the arm constricting around his neck…